The figure perched on one of the crenellations extending from the side of the Tower. Like a Gargoyle the being was still as stone as though listening. The sun’s fingers hadn’t crested the horizon yet and so it sat. Grey blue flesh like rubber and stone, taloned hands and a face full of tentacles. Large ungainly wings sprouted from the figures back, it could afford the true form for now.
The sun was coming, but for now this was his realm. The dark predawn was his. The witching hour. The hour when the Outer Door was most closest to this world. It could feel the rotation of the world, the shifting of magic along its surface. Petty Gods and mortals alike scrambling for power within the confines of the ancient walls. It turned pale green eyes to the sky spreading its wings. How it longed to be free again. To fly among the dark spaces between the stars, devour worlds. But now, now it had been tainted by this world. A shard of this world had been lodged inside this being that did not belong to this world. Time had meaning now, however slight it might be.
Shifting its hip, the single strange blade moved against its pale skin. With that it stood. Suddenly it froze as a pale blue flash rippled at the horizon as the sun crested. The being shivered in surprise as a rush of power suddenly filled it. It had been thousands of years since it had been able to replenish its magic and yet here it was. Aberrant magic. Filling to gaping hole.

Turning it seemed to taste the air. There was someone here. Another child of madness. How had it gone unnoticed?

Adéla awoke. Images, indistinct and incomprehensible, flashed through her mind. She wasn’t sure just what she had seen. But she had seen something, something… terrifying.

It suddenly became apparent that something was not right. She took a breath, but it felt… wrong. She was covered in something, but she didn’t know what. Her entire body felt… wrong. So very alien and wrong, but she couldn’t put a word to it. Sensations from body parts she knew for a fact she didn’t have flooded her brain, as well as some sixth sense of… something.

She reached up with a hand, feeling at the material covering her face. It was just cloth, but it felt old and ratty, threadbare, somewhat like bandages almost - but she had no bandages on her, any remaining injuries had been healed by one of the Tower’s White Mages. “What th-” She began to speak, but stopped immediately. Her voice too was not her own.

What the hell had happened?

Markov slid through the halls like a shadow. The person was a knight, how had he missed this? There was an aberrant, but how? Markov approached the outside of the living quarters. Turning left and then right he seemed to sniff at the air. “What the hell..” Approaching the outside of Adéla’s door markov leaned in peering at the door. One of the new recruits...how truly odd.
There was a knock at the door of Adéla’s door.

Adéla looked up, somehow able to see through the material on her face despite it covering her eyes. Someone was knocking at her door. Normally she would’ve panicked at someone knocking at the door while she… was whatever she was, but for some reason she didn’t. She still had legs, and so she proceeded to push herself off her bed and move to the door.

“Who is it?” She asked in the strange, inhuman voice she now possessed, though for some reason it retained a trace of the feminine about it, and her accent. “What do you want?”

“Urthar, High Priest of Therax.” Markov was banking on this not actually meaning anything but he simply wanted to see if it garnered a response from her. He waited a moment before following up with. “But you probably know me as the Tower’s Master of Words. do you mind if we have a little chat?”

Markov had returned to his human form as he suspected that whatever had happened to this knight would probably be quite a shock and adding his own true form to the mix would probably be the equivalent of pouring gas on a fire.

“I should probably know who that is, and I suspect you’re going to enlighten me shortly, but as of right now the name Therax is one I’ve never heard before.” Adéla replied through the door. “Though, the latter title definitely does mean something.” She unlocked the door, “I would warn you about my current appearance but something tells me you’re here because of that, or at the very least you’re not the easily spooked type.”

She pulled open the door, stepping back to allow Markov entrance before closing it behind him. “So.” She said simply, waiting for him to continue.

Markov took her in slowly. “As suspected. My apologies for not coming sooner. It would appear that one of your parents is not who you think they are. And by that I mean, you have a third parent.” Markov gestured to the bed. “You might want to sit down” With put his weight on the walking cane he used in his human form. “It would appear that you are a child of an Elder God.”

Markov let the statement hang to test and see if Adéla had even a clue about what was happening.

“Okay so, for the record I don’t know any of this, so you can stop pausing for reactions for now. I don’t know what an Elder God is, or why I have tentacles. And I’m being a lot calmer right now than I have any right to be.” She nonetheless sat down, cocking her head to the side, “I never actually knew my parents, so you’re going to have to try a bit harder with surprising me on that one.”

Markov grinned. “You’re an aberration in a human shell. An Elder God is a being beyond mortal comprehension that lives beyond the Outer Door, which just came open. Hence your sudden transformation. Therax’s spore must have infected you as a child which is why this happened. It hasn’t happened until now because you had no access to Aberration magic which comes from beyond the Outer Door. With it coming open even briefly it was like setting fire to dry wood. Which is why you now look like you do.” Markov drew a circle in the air in front of him and within it a mirror was projected for Adéla’s benefit.

Adéla sat for a small while, taking in her new appearance. She appeared to be clad in a dark scarlet robe or something like that, with off white bandages or loose linen wrappings covering her face. She wasn’t too eager to see what would be under those wrappings if she was to be honest. Flowing from under the robe was a mass of tentacles - which explained all the unusual sensations from earlier - and the skin she could see on her hands was a sickly pallor. “An… Aberration?” She asked, curious, “You’re going to have to forgive me for not knowing exactly what that is. I know absolutely nothing about magic or magical things.” She looked back over at Markov, “So… what does this mean for me, exactly?”

“It means that you aren’t of this world anymore. You belong to a different family entirely, if family is even the right word for it.” Markov dismissed the mirror. “That is not to say that you aren’t still at least partially human but it does mean that you are not normal anymore.” He leaned back against the wall. “It also means i’m going to have to teach you how to use our form of magic.” Eyeing her “but first we should get you back to normal. Focus on what you look like in your human form and will yourself to be as you were.”

“That sounds like the premise for a cheap B horror movie.” She commented idly, “You’re gonna have to teach me a lot more than that you realize, I’m one of the few people with essentially nothing in the way of magic or knowledge of it.” She nonetheless closed her eyes, picturing in exhaustive detail how she looked normally. She didn’t open her eyes as she felt the changes happen, only when they stopped. Looking down she saw, to her relief, her regular body, in the loose fitting clothing she usually favored. “So…” Pausing, she readjusted herself, “Go on.”

Markov smiled at that. “See, your lack of magical knowledge is actually helping. We don’t have to break any of those dumbass habits that Galendar mages learn” Markov pointed at the door. “Manifest your tentacles and tear it off the wall.” Markov leaned back. “Just think about what you want and then focus on only transforming your arm or simply manifesting the tentacles from the surface of your body. The choice is yours in this form.”

Adéla raised an eyebrow, “Dumbass practices?”

Shrugging, she decided not to comment too much for the moment, instead raising her arm and pointing it at the door. It occurred to her that this might not be the most subtle and quiet way of learning how to use… whatever this magic was called. Aberrant magic? Aberratiomancy? She had no idea, and it probably didn’t matter. She thought just like she had a few moments ago, imagining the writhing mass of tentacles she had had previously bursting forth from her arm. As she opened her eyes, she became keenly aware of five thick sickly tentacles where her fingers used to be. She had a hunch however, that they would be considerably stronger than fingers, and reached out with them to wrap around the door, effortlessly ripping it off its reinforced hinges.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, still holding the door in the wriggling appendages, “So, what do I do now, since this seems to be Aberrant Magic 101 or whatever you would call it.”

“Nothing, once you’ve master manipulating your form then we can continue on to learning how to consume thoughts and emotions and then onto applications of Void magic. The biggest problem will be your limited capacity to hold onto aberrant magic. Since you’re half human you will have less capacity to store magic, so you will have to use it more wisely. When we are finished with your training I’ll grant you access to my magic to fill your reserves. After that it will be up to you to find your own sources of Aberrant magic.”

This was going to be interesting. Markov had never had to train an Aberrant blood before and yet it was interesting to finally be able to communicate with a being similar to himself. The only thing holding her back would be her will. It was still fragile and all too human. A pity really. If it had morphed with her then this would be a different exercise altogether yet here we are. “The sun will be up soon. Do your best to not use your magic out in the open as it will require more energy, Galendar’s sun is unusual, it saps open Aberrant magic quickly.”

The first thing on Adéla’s mind was snarking. “So I’m a vampire now, sans burning if I stay outside for minutes instead of hours?” She allowed herself a fleeting moment to snicker before a genuine question came to mind. “So… sorry for not knowing any of this, but, uh, is there any way to increase the amount of Aberrant magic I can store for ripping doors off of hinges? Actually, how much does it actually use up to turn my arm into tentacles and rip a door off its hinges? I’m going to assume turning into a mind twisting horror around other people is a bad thing too. And if I may ask, sorry for all these questions by the way, where could I find some of this Aberrant magic of my own - once I don’t have somebody holding my hand so I don’t accidentally kill myself?”

Markov chuckled darkly “In order: Yes, but your will needs to be converted, it’s still in a mortal form. Not much actually, manipulating your form is pretty basic and only draws slightly on the magic in order to convert your form. I’d advise against doing so unless absolutely necessary, some people can be rather sensitive about it. As for finding it, you’ll need a spacial rift to the Outer Dark, that or you draw it directly from the Outer Door when it is open.” Markov walked over and settle in on the bed to wait for any further questions she might have.

Adéla walked over, pausing for a minute to think. “Nothing else comes to mind for now, what’s next?”

“Get some sleep. I need to find out why the Outer Door opened and if anything managed to slip through. Get use to your abilities and then we’ll talk soon” With that Markov stood and left the room.

Lazarus looked up from the book and narrowed his eyes at Harn. This was something entirely new, a Second Lived for sure. No outward signs of life from the inhabiting soul. Absolutely fascinating. Harn's words finally dawned on Lazarus and he leaned forward to look at the soul crystals. "You said they were powering Golems? I haven't seen that sort of magic in a while." Picking them up he turned them in his hand. "They aren't good quality which means that they were probably the work of a lesser necromancer. Someone who can trap souls but can't reanimate the dead on their own hence the Golems." Lazarus looked up "As far as an easier way to defeat them you'll just have to aim at the soul crystals and destroy or dislodge them. Otherwise you'll have to completely destroy the Golem." Lazarus sat back folding his hands.

Sirius was only six years old when he first came face to face with his brother. The memories of the circumstances were hazy: they hadn’t grown up together and his mother never even mentioned he had a brother but apparently he did and apparently this strange creature was him.

Sirius was young and had led a sheltered life, away from anything and everything his mom perceived as dangerous or in any capacity, capable of frightening him. Calder’s huge body covered in shiny scales definitely had that capacity. Yet Sirius couldn’t stop staring. In front of him was a true marvel, something he’d never seen before, and all he remembered thinking was “I bet he’s strong”. Sirius wasn’t, he still hadn’t displayed any magical talents and anyone looking at his weak little frame could guess he’s never going to be an athlete either. The creature in front of him was a complete opposite and yet they shared some blood.

The young boy didn’t realise when Mr.Sparrow stepped aside and left him facing the troll on his own. When he did, panic surged in him and he looked around frantically hoping to spot him somewhere nearby. Once it became evident that wasn’t the case, he shrank into himself, looking up at the giant reptilian and hoping their first meeting wouldn’t be their last as well.

Calder looked down on the young boy. His father has sired again, not that he cared. He’d never known his father, except as a name. He’d met him once, but only briefly. Time with daddy hadn’t been part of the contract that dictated his very existence. His mother He’d seen more frequently but the contract had little room for love, so he received little enough from her, though she tried to get around the contract as often as possible. That bothered Calder when he was little, why give your word if you didn’t intend to follow through? Now he knew, and wondered if this little boy knew yet. He doubted it, He wondered if he should teach the boy, he might thank him later… Calder considered his own teachers. He had no intention of thanking them, so he decided to spare the boy his lesson on living with fae. He’d learn soon enough. Instead Calder merely asked a question, though the boy couldn’t possibly know the answer, Calder wondered how the boy would react. Calder’s voice sounded like a roiling sea, water hissing about covered in foam and crashing down on itself in tremendous waves. “So you’re our father’s latest spawn? What debt did he pay with your birth?”

“I... I am dad's son...” Sirius spluttered, misunderstanding Calder's words. When he opened his mouth, the troll could surely bite his head clean off. His second sentence contained more words Sirius had never heard before and there was nobody around to ask either. His throat was dry and there seemed to be no words left there for him to speak. This adventure wasn’t turning out quite the way Mr.Sparrow had promised.

“Can you prove that?” Calder was in between jobs at the moment, and had been enjoying a day studying and working his magic at a small lake. He stood on gravel beach, near the mouth of a stream, where the two bodies of water collided. Beyond the beach a light forest grew, full of young oaks, ash, and willow trees, with very little shrubbery. Calder glanced at the lake and with a sharp hiss, brought forth a small orb of water that wobbled and took on many different shapes, some the boy would recognize others he would not, but none of them were the usual spherical shape of a water drop. Calder even differentiated textures, with soft things being made of mist and vapor while hard things were formed of ice, ever more complex and horrifying things the water made. All things Calder had seen, many of them things he had fought, and beaten. Calder spoke once more, as he let the water fall onto the pebbles at his toes. “Can you entice the water to dance at your whim?”

The little boy's eyes were as wide and round as dinner plates. He stared at the display and couldn't believe his eyes. A shy smile formed on his lips as more textures were introduced and the shapes became more intricate and sophisticated. The water dropping to the ground startled him and made him look up at the troll once again, his attention slowly returning to his words. The boy gave a brave nod and stared intently at the lake ahead. In his mind dragons and witches were fighting each other with icy teeth and swords.. but in front of him none of this became reality.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and held his breath, his face quickly turning red with the effort. As the nothing continued to occur, he got annoyed with himself and ran to the lake dipping his whole hand in. He could feel the water resisting him but he was intent on subduing it. As he took his hand out there was an irregularly shaped ball of water in it, slowly trickling between his fingers. Half of it was spilled by the time he took it to the troll but when he handed it over it was already in the shape of a slushy snowball.

“Is that okay?” The boy panted, eyes alight with the hope for a praise and a pat on the head.

Calder grinned, it was quite good actually for a first attempt. They boy had a strong will to be sure, perhaps he’d be useful, when he could do more than conjure snowballs. Calder hissed again and the snowball evaporated, before he responded. “That will do for now. What is your name?” Calder refrained from touching the boy, not knowing how resilient the boy was Calder didn’t want to crush the boy on accident. Being gentle wasn’t a task Calder was asked to perform, ever really much less often. He was made to smash everything in his path, and to always rise again when he himself was smashed.

He’d always liked the simplicity of his life, not like most of the sidhe, or other courtiers, where everything was on a tottering balance that had to be constantly tended. Calder considered the opportunities the boy before him offered, he’d be most useful if no one knew of his existence but Calder was not talented in crafting veils, so hiding the boy would be impossible… Calder would have to think carefully if he was to gain anything from the boy’s existence and sudden appearance in the never.

Of course, the child had no notion of being used and couldn’t recognise the signs in Calder’s eyes. All he wanted was to make his brother happy and somehow the snowball seemed to do the trick. “Sirius!” the boy responded eagerly. “And yours? And can I call you big brother?”

“Calder Dylan, if that will make you happy I will allow it.” It wouldn’t cost me anything after all. How would I explain him to my Lord? The truth usually worked, let’s start there. Perhaps bumping into that bimbo Méabh would help set the stage nicely… She’d certainly try to snatch the boy for her own uses, and I’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to simmer her properly. Still, I didn’t want to do that yet, you needed to learn a few things first. I begin walking along the beach, showing you how to do little things with water. Since you’d started with a snowball I showed you how change the water to ice, back to water, and then to steam. Though, it would take some practice before you could do it as well as I, you seemed to have the same knack for water magic I had, it would serve you well here, and in turn me.

There was a familiar blonde who was in a particular study. Not her own, of course. She lay across the desk of her beloved, face buried inside a particular book about stygian history. Raven didn’t particularly like reading in her human years, but as her divine blood kept her heart beating over the years she found ancient pleasure with eyeing the pages and devouring their sustenance. It’s not a bad idea to read about the history of her previous business partners, after all. Wars, confusion in leadership, peace, politics, it was all there. The way the stygian were, and the stygian empire is now are two completely different things. Raven didn’t really love stygian leadership to begin with, even when she was woven inside it, but they sure gave her some hell of an adventure in her human years. Her thoughts dance back to the day she stood on Christian’s back as he reined electric spit over an entire army of druids. A quiet mouth cascades a warm chuckle from her memory.

Warm hands found Raven’s back as she laughed. Christian had slid into the study quietly and crept up on her. Everytime he saw her his heart skipped a beat. It was hard to adjust to this after so long of never seeing her, now he saw her everyday without fail. “What’s this? I never figured that you would be the kind to read anything and yet here you are?” Christian slid into the chair behind the desk and leaned back in it a little as he ran his eyes over her again. “And might I ask what you are laughing at?”

Raven’s smile didn’t waver. She knew the dragon would have come in here sooner or later. Her eyes didn’t wander from her book, but to acknowledge his presence she leaned back into his hands a little, like a cat brushing up against its companion. “A lot of things change,” Her mellow voice rumbled in her throat. “After all the years I’ve come to like reading. Reminds me of the old days.” Her small grin blossomed. “I was thinking back to when we basically obliterated the druids.”

The Dragon smiled as he settled a bit. “Yeah, I remember that. You know weirdly, the Dark Druids haven’t been a problem since we won that first war. I haven’t seen them in all the years that you’ve been gone.” Shard pursed his lips as he continued to stroke her back lovingly. “Infact a lot of things went quiet over the years.” His eyes were a thousand miles away as he absently stroked her back.

She turned to face him. “But you’ve just gotten louder, huh? building something so noticeable…” She lifted a hand to cup his cheek and gently caress it with her watery touch.

Christian caught her hand against his face. “Well I had to be noticeable with you gone that way you could come find me when you got back. “ His eyes finally came back to the present as he looked at her. “So this might be a bit forward but did you have any thoughts on a wedding?” Christian twisted her ring a little to remind her.

Raven’s smile faded a little. “I’ve never really gave it much thought, to be honest.” And she was right. Throughout all the years of running around in the stars she’d never thought of the adventure proceeding the one on her finger. It was foreign to her,traditions for ceremony. Raven’s eyes wandered around the room, as if an idea would be held elsewhere from Shard’s features.
“We could do it here. Things have settled down and most of the Knights have returned. I’m sure there are plenty of women here that would flock to you to help you prepare if you wanted. Ralrisk would never admit it but I’m sure she’d be happy to help and Eve would for sure.” Christian settled his arms on the desk next to her and leaned his head on his arms. “Or we can always put it off a little. I have all the time in the world, lucky for me.”

Raven’s focused frown turned back to its usual warm uplift as she entwined her fingers in Christians and squeezed. “Why don’t we give it a little time, then, when we get a particular idea for it we can capitalize on that.” Raven chuckled. “I’m sure all my men on my crew would love to see me all dressed up and happy, anyway.” She paused. “Akira, too, and all the others. They should come and celebrate as well.”

Christian nodded “That sounds excellent to me.” He squeezed her hand gently as he sat with her. Christian’s eyes suddenly narrowed as something rippled through the Tower. “That...was odd..” Sitting up Christian’s eyes clouded over with liquid bronze. “What..was that?”

Raven felt a strange shiver down her back. She quickly stood up and put a hand on one of her sheathed weapons. “I sensed that too.” She clenched her teeth.

Christian rose and the air crackled around him. “Someone opened a Way, that’s not possible. That requires an Avatar...And Lazarus is still in the Library and you are here with me..” Christian looked at her and flicked his hand. The Ace of Storms sprung from it and unfolded in his left hand. “Care to come on an adventure?”

Raven smiled grimly. “Let’s suit up on blackwing.”

Akime was pulled out of her sleep by the distinct feeling that something was wrong. She didn’t remember waking up or even opening her eyes, but suddenly her heart had skipped a beat and then she was awake. The confusion that would normally follow was absent from her mind. Her perceptions were crystal-clear, a by-product of always keeping her essence sight open and hundreds of years of practice in doing so. By now, she was so used to it, that she could sleep while still keeping an eye out for anomalies.

And this was a big anomaly. Somewhere to the west a kind of magic had entered the world that she’d never felt before. It bore some similarities to someone she did know, yet seemed just as alien at the same time.

Quickly, Akime jumped off the bed and opened a map with flourish, spreading it out on the desk. It depicted the entire world, through and through, in enough detail to warrant its huge size: over three meters on each side. Taking a moment to find the red cross that marked the position of the Tower of Stars, Akime put both index fingers on it and closed her eyes. As she recalled the feeling, she started judging the approximate location of the disturbance. Her left finger started creeping west of the tower, the unease growing in Akime’s gut until it reached its peak. The woman’s eyes opened as her nail came to a halt over Sun’s Rest. Finally she called out to Ibuki, waking her companion with the request for a tape-measure. The latter rose with a low grumble and measured the distance soon after. The sight of his bedhead would have drawn a smile, were she not so worried. Akime waited patiently for him to calculate the distance with her arms crossed and her eyebrows drawn.

“A hundred and thirty miles west, approximate latitude and longitude: 48.9539300 and 4.3672400.” He took his eyes off the map and looked at Akime. “Is it bad?”

“Quite. I can’t know for sure yet.” She paused, then continued. “It’s alien yet it seems to have resonated with one of the new recruits. Her aura has suddenly altered, whether it’s possession or simply an awakened power I don’t know, but at least it seems like Markov has already approached them.”

“So he has noticed as well. Has he alerted Shard yet?”
“No.” Akime shook her head, already stripping the pajamas and slipping some daywear on.
“Alright then. I’ll give him a call. Are you going after it?”
“No. I’m not sure what it is and what it’s intentions are, if it’s even corporeal. I’ll go talk to Markov as it’s partially similar to his essence, he might know more. We might need to take action quick so before you report to Christian, go wake Cole up and ask him to find me a statue of anything with wings. When you’re both done, head out to the top of the tower and I’ll meet you there. Noon’s coming soon so I’ll be able to see quite far, let’s just hope it won’t be too late.”
Ibuki nodded and sized her up. “Are you panicking?”
“No.” Akime snapped and stormed off.

“The master of Words” was a title that to Akime felt too humbling for what Markov really was. She didn’t truly know the man, and sometimes wondered if anyone ever will, but she knew that if Christian trusts him, then so can she. Her steps were heavy and rushed as she made her way towards Adela’s room, hoping that the old man wouldn’t be half as worried as her. She started speaking to him as soon as he came in sight, raising her voice to overcome the space still separating them.

“Master Markov, good to see you. I felt something slip through the Outer Door, I’m not sure if it was sentient or just an echo of whatever’s going on beyond, but it’s something I’ve never felt before. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” She came to a stop and gave a goofy smile. “Please tell me I worry too much.”

Markov turned on her and frowned. “Mistress of Sight, I see that you’ve already felt it. I should have known that you would feel the tremor. I assume you felt Adela’s awakening. Which would be why you are here I assume?” Markov shifted his walking cane from the floor to his left hand. Abandoning the pretense of frailty he had cultivated. “The Outer Door is open. Well, it’s mostly open. That was the first shove so to speak, Galendar’s magic pushed back on the door. I need to see it to determine what will need to happen in order to seal it.”

Adela. A girl then. Already dealt with, by the sounds if it. “The first shove? Are you sure nothing came through? I'm prepared to investigate it and normally I'd have left for the location if the disturbance already but I don't know what we're dealing with so I thought I'd consult you first. Can my powers be of any use to you, Master?”

“Yes, and yes. It was only magic, that or it was a lesser servant. If something of my power came through I’d have felt it. Your magic will be useful, you have a void shard, we’ll be fine. We can open a way it will get us close to Sun’s Rest.” Markov nodded down the hallway. “Don’t call me Markov, Call me Urthar. I’m the High Priest of Therax, and unless you really want to lose part of your mind don’t look at me too closely.” With that he started walking down the hallway. “I need a Gateway in order to do this. And they are in the basement so if you feel like taking a walk then let’s get going.”

Akime gave a soft chuckle of relief, amusement and a pinch of nervousness. In all those years she had sternly avoided anything to do with the Tower’s foundations. The woman reached into her pocket and produced a mobile phone, which she stared at for a few excruciating moments before managing to call Ibuki.

“You and Cole are dismissed, I’m off on a field-trip with the Master of Words. You two play nice and stay out of trouble.” She chirped and hung up. She had no idea what void stone she was supposed to have but if… Urthar said she could help, that was good enough for her. It was a pity her meeting with Lazarus had to wait, but there was always tomorrow… hopefully.

Urthar lead them down to a set of innocuous stairs. They were carved into the bedrock of the tower. There was no door to them, the walls were layered with the same marble as the rest of the wallway. Urthar looked back down the hallway. His devoid eyes looking from her to another door further back. “You could go back.” He stood at the top of the stairs looking back down at the black. “Of course then you’ll never know what lurks in the dark.” With that he descended the stairs.

And while Akime was perfectly fine not knowing some things, she knew sometimes not knowing was just a temporary state of mind that had to be overcome. That, or maybe it was just her wretched curiosity. This despite her aversion to darkness, she followed without a moment's hesitation.

The stairs descended for a ways before finally leveling out into an open room. It was filled with dozens upon dozens of cases and displays. The artifacts and objects within them extruded strange energies and whispers of a dark past. “The lower levels are a mirror of the Obsidian Tower in the Wastes beyond Galendar. This is where Shard keeps the artifacts he has collected that can’t safely be stored in the display rooms above and need to be locked away somewhere. The Vault isn’t safe enough so we bring them here. And yes, the stairs are much more deadly than they appear.” Leading her through the room and further down the stairs. They pased through strange rooms filled with objects for torture and experimentations. Rooms filled with vats of strange liquids and rooms filled with beings frozen in stasis before Urthar finally lead her into a wide circular room with a series of circles set into the floor they were made of various metals and were set at different depths leaving channels in the floor where one ring was set deeper than others.

“Welcome to the Way, The Tower’s best kept secret.”

As they progressed, Akime found it hard to keep her hands of things and her curiosity at bay. She could extend little flames from her own aura and let the flick around the items they passed, feeding her information about their history or composition but she had to resist. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d first faced Christian and his mercenaries and the memories were suddenly vibrant and fresh. Back then the men and women were housed in a completely different part of the city, yet their power was made obvious by their possessions even then. She had felt a few artefacts on her way down the halls and even come unpleasantly close to one- a gateway to Yishreenok’s realm that Lazarus had warned her to not even look at. Thus as she followed Urthar further into the tower’s basement, she kept both her hands and her senses close to herself.

“And who makes use of that secret?” Akime inquired as the Master of Words announced they’d reached their destination. Her foot ran over one of the metal circles, wondering why she’d never heard of a teleportation device if they’d been created already. Then again, there were those gateways between worlds, so perhaps it wasn’t all that impossible for channels to exist linking locations of the same world. “I didn’t know we had such a thing in the Tower. How does it work? Who invented it and when?” She asked curiously, momentarily forgetting the urgency of their situation.

“It requires an Avatar’s power to make use of it. Lucky me don’t need that, the Way is one of the only things in existence that can connect two places in Galendar together. It acts like a worm through an apple; burrowing through space. It was created by the Dust Coven, atleast that is what I’ve been told. They used it to send their Walkers to defend sections of the Waste. It made use of the Lord of Waste’s power to open such portals. It's much different from traditional translocation magic with simply picks up a piece of space and moves it somewhere else, deposits the person and then moves the piece of space back. That sort magic is taxing and dangerous. This however has its own problems. It requires incredible amounts of energy; however in the end it means you can strike anywhere and there is almost no defense against it.” Urthar walked to the center of the rings. “Any other questions?” There was no impatiens in his voice, he simply stood patiently.

“Wait. Strike?” Akime asked surprised. “Do you know what we’re striking against? Or are you just using the expression in broader terms?” Her curiosity was piqued and she’d definitely have to ask how the Tower’s master acquired such a thing, but now wasn’t the right time. If Urthar wanted to invest monumental amounts of energy to reach the disturbance spot ASAP, then he must be worried about it himself.

“Broad terms. Once upon a time we used the Way to assault Lord Morrowblade's compound in Galendar, he was so dug in a frontal assault would have cost us dearly. So we opened a way right into that bastards inner sanctum. He was surprised to say the least.” With that he turned and walked to the edge of the room. With deft practiced hands Urthar touched a handful of symbols carved into the walls of the room. After which he began tracing lines on the floor. Wherever he touched pale green light began to emanate from the symbols and lines.

“I didn’t know you had anything to do with Lord Marrowblade’s assault. But I suppose everyone in this tower has a history, especially a man of your calibre.” She shrugged, positioning herself on the opposite end of the circle. “What do you want me to do?”

Urthar pointed at the center of the circle. “Stand there. We’ll use my magic for this. No need to involve Shard, he’s been up at night a lot so I think it's best if you and I take care of this.” Finishing his lines Urthar walked over to Akime. All pretense of frailty gone. “This is going to feel strange so just be ready.”

Akime smiled. She had to agree, Shard had been up a lot since Raven came back. She walked to the center of the circle and crossed her arms, unsure what to do with them. It wasn’t often that she’d interacted with the tower’s “old man”. She’d seen him when she first came to the Tower, and then many times since, shadowy figures drifting along the bricks and creeping along the hallways, barely seen but distinctly felt at night. Yet, even after she became a regular visitor, the man had avoided her. He was old by any definition, but for the frail human one and she had been curious as to what made him settle exactly here but she didn’t pursue or press him into talking to her. Like Crow, this man had a knack for disguise and as usual, she couldn’t help but wonder why. Today would be a rare opportunity for both some adventure and getting to know him a bit better.

Urthar walked to her and settle his walking stick on the floor, standing upright he looked at her for a moment. “Do not be startled, my true form is usually unsettling. With that Urthar threw back his arms and the muscle and skin rippled and tore apart, beneath the skin was a rubbery pale blue flesh. His stature increased until Urthar was well over six feet tall the lower half of his face erupted into four tentacles and his head contorted to alien proportions with solid white eyes that seemed to see into a world beyond anything anyone in Galendar could see. The last two fingers on his hands merged together and long talons erupted from the ends of them. Urthar’s voice resounded in her head Now lets go find some answers.

With that the aberration pressed his hands together and a pale black light emanated from between his fingers and with a jerk he thrust it upwards. The rings set into the floor snapped up surrounding them. With a pop and a gut wrenching pull the whole world seemed to shift sideways before snapping back into place.

They stood in the middle of a blackened circle of vegetation, trees hung with centuries of moss crowded in above the two of them and the world seemed to watch. It was as if time flowed thick like blood in this place, no animal sounds, no constant breath of life, just the slow growth of a forest as old as the world.

“Don’t worry, I quite like unsettling.” Akime stole a glance at the master’s real form before the world lost its shapes and lurched at her. It stole her breath and she staggered but it was over before she fell, so she managed to catch herself and land on her knees instead of landing on her face. Standing up, she dusted herself and walked out of the circle before it decided to do something else evil to her.

“Now here’s a place where I haven’t been before. This wormhole is handy, I wonder if Christian will let me use it for tourism.” She joked and looked back at Urthar while extending her aura in the nearby area. Her essence senses tentatively touched the trees around them while her eyes explored the alien creature next to her.

The world seemed to warp around Urthar, he was exponentially more powerful than the first time they had met. Radiating a strange alien magic that tugged at the world and played with Akime’s senses at the edges of her vision. It was all too clear that the first time she had seen him, Urthar had been lacking in his magic. Now however he was clearly at his full power. “It takes an awful lot of magic” the statement was the truth but judging from Urthar’s magic it had barely scratched his capacity. “Now to find the Door...it’s been so long.”

“That won’t be too hard, you’re giving me enough ground for comparison. I just hope if anything slipped through, that it wouldn’t be able to feel you. Saying that, I can’t feel anything living but the plants within a kilometre radius so we’re probably safe.” Indeed, with all the magic he was exuding she didn’t have to look very hard to see his essence, as alien and unusual as it was. “That way.” She pointed at the slope of a hill to the north. The trees seemed to be spaced out there, receding to form the edge of either a meadow or the forest itself. “You’ve gotten stronger.” She started as she headed in the pointed direction. “Not to say that you haven’t always been strong. I remember how you completely shut down my essence sight the first time we met. I’ve never met anyone capable of doing it before. I have to admit, it’s somewhat unnerving to think that someone can rob you of your core abilities so easily. Will the new recruit be able to do that too?”

Urthar make a wet repetitive sound that was clearly a laugh. His voice was raspy and guttural “No, she won’t be able to do something like that. And yes, the opening of the outer door refreshed my magic. I can’t draw on magic the same way others can. I store vast amounts of it and only gain more magic from the places beyond the outer door. I cannot use Galendar’s magic” Urthar started walking towards where she pointed.

The path he took continued into the depths of the forest. Leading in silence he brought the two of them into a clearing. Within it were the ruins of a city. The spires were coated in vines and the forest was clearly trying to reclaim it but yet the stone work stood strong. “Ah, it's still standing even after all these years. I am rather impressed to be honest with you. But then again my kind are always good at building things to last.” Picking his way through the ruins Urthar lead Akime further into the ruins.

The woman followed, light on her feet, few branches snapping under her. She enjoyed nature but the lack of wildlife in this specific forest made it less pleasurable and served to remind that they were on a mission. It was interesting to see those buildings but she was always a tad more interested in people than architecture. “I didn't know your species had ever settled in this world. In fact, I don't even see why you would if you can't use your magic here. Even if you can charge yourself up, I personally prefer to have my magic always at hand. What made you come here, Urthar? If you don't mind me asking, of course.”

“To bring this world to its knees.” Urthar pressed onward leading her into a massive temple in the heart of the city. Strange architecture curled along the inside of the temple. Like writhing tentacles it climbed the inside of the structure. “I am the High Priest of Therax. I was sent here to kill the Titan Orieon.” The suggestion that Urthar had made was that he was almost as old as Galendar itself. “And kill him we did. This place was our foothold in Galendar. In the end we slew Orieon and cast him into the earth. His body created the abyss and with his death he slew all of the beings I had brought with me save for the generals. They are scattered throughout Galendar now hiding from the light. The problem is that they probably sensed the door opening as well.” Urthar descended a spiral staircase set into the floor. “Orieon also sealed the Outer Door and limited our power in so doing. In Galendar I am only a fraction of the power I am beyond the Outer Door. Although now I doubt I can ever go back to that. Galendar has corrupted me.”

“And I'm glad it has.” Akime scoffed. She had felt a chill run down her spine when he confessed why he'd come. “It seems I prefer corrupted men, judging by you and Christian. Besides, I'd like to think you’ve also found plenty you like in this world. I was exiled myself so I know time can dull the pain somewhat.”

She followed this strange being confidently, the knowledge of his superiority and the trust she had in him sitting beside each other comfortably in her chest. Perhaps if she'd met him under different circumstances she'd be nervous of both his leadership and his revelations but with time she'd come to trust Shard more than most and if he vouched for the man, then she'd follow him without fear.

“Shard is hardly corrupt, Shard is the most pure manifestation of Galendar’s ecology I have ever seen. He’s a dragon at heart and he acts like it every day. What you might see as greed or corruption is simply his nature. I guess that says something about Lady Raven’s choice in companion but it still remains to be seen how Raven actually feels. Christian was hurt when she left which is close to when I joined him.” The stairs opened into a massive underground cathedral and at the far end against the wall was a massive double door set flush into the rock. The runes that covered it when looked at straight on seemed to writhe and skitter making it difficult to actually get a good look at them.

“Of Course we will see if what both of them are made of eventually.” Urthar turned on Akime. “You’re a True Fae are you not?”

“So they say.” Akime responded with a shrug. “Though it always struck me as unpleasant to call others ‘fake’. And for the record, I didn’t really mean Christian is corrupted, I was being sarcastic since you said our world “corrupted” you, which seems to be what makes people human in my opinion. ”

The woman stepped forwards to stand beside Urthar and ran a finger down the door in front, watching for any change in the skittering runes. In her mind Ibuki screamed in outrage but in reality the room remained blissfully quiet. The babysitter was miles away, just how she liked it.

“Can you feel what is behind it? The empty space. The hunger. The reason I am corrupted is because everything I am is from behind that door.” Urthar looked over the door slowly “It’s come loose, the seals aren’t attached anymore.” Urthar settled on his walking stick slowly. “The door isn’t open but it’s close. I think it was slammed back shut but I can’t tell if anything got through…”

“Well, I can.” Akime smirked, her finger now running close to the gap. She didn’t dare put it right over the gap as the essence oozing from beyond were already giving her the chills as is. Her finger felt colder by the second but touch was an even more efficient way of feeling essence than pure sight, so for the time being she had to put up with it. As the sensation build up on her finger she let it penetrate her and reach her heart where she analysed it and memorised every little detail of it as a sample for later on. As she worked, it became more and more obvious just how much in common Urthar had with the space beyond, and how much was different. She was simultaneously taking fingerprints of both the void beyond and the man in front, both of which could prove useful in the years to come. From now on, she’d be able to track down the Master of Words wherever he went and have no difficulty recognising him even among a swarm of creatures from beyond.

After a minute, the woman expelled the alien essence with her next breath. You never knew what it could do to you to taste other people’s souls or magic, and especially if it doesn’t come from this world. She reached into her pocket and handed Urthar a small pearly vial. “Could you extract some of the air and magic drifting through the gate? You never know when that might come in handy and you seem better suited at attempting it than me.” She spoke as she looked around the room. Something had gone through and it was massive, its essence fleeting but tangible, like a subtle mist that lingered in the room. “And I’m afraid to say something has slipped through. Huge, definitely bigger than you. Friend or foe, I couldn’t tell you.” She looked back at him. “What do we do? Stealth or an all-out assault?”

Urthar frowned “A breaker. Interesting.” Taking the vial he drew from the void and sealed it into the vial. The essence swirled within the vial. “Be Careful with that, it is volatile in Galendar.” Turning Urthar placed both his hands on the door. With an effort Urthar began to draw more magic through the doorway filling the all but bottomless well that was his magic. Urthar’s form filled out more, thickening his muscles and lengthening his form more. The color of Urthar’s skin darkened and then two additional tentacles sprouted from his lower face falling several inches lower than the other four.

For the first time in centuries Urthar felt like the High Priest of Therax. The world began to bend around him ever so slightly as he finished filling his magic to its highest capacity. Turning to Akime he nodded. “It’s a World Breaker, and I don’t know where it is going. Galendar is lucky in that it has the Outer Door to protect it. Therax armies use World Breakers as shock troopers to soften worlds before the invasion begins. I’m still not sure how they plan on opening the door though.” Urthar stroked one of his tentacles thoughtfully.

Akime smiled at the man. It must feel good to sate your hunger for magic after so many years of fasting. The news, however, were far less pleasant than the sight. “Seems like we have to warn Christian after all. We can play rock-paper-scissors for who knocks on his door to deliver the news, I don’t want to witness anything unsightly.” She giggled, then became serious. “And this ‘world breaker’… if I seek it out, can you destroy it?”

Urthar frowned. “I don’t know, I don’t have all of my tools anymore. The Death Scythe is powerful but I really wish I’d been able to recover more.” Urthar considered further before turning, “We can try. Between the two of us we should be able to bring it down. Do you want to take up the trail from here or shall we return to the Tower?”

Akime shook her head. “It’s easier from here as the trail is fresher. Being as Cole isn’t with us, I’ll have to create golems to give us an aerial view but it shouldn’t take more than half an hour. With them being winged, it should--- wait.” She stopped herself and grinned. “You can fly, can’t you? This should make things easier.”

Urthar nodded. With that he flexed his shoulders and a set of rubbery wings sprouted from his back with that he gestured towards the door. “Let’s go, the longer we wait the harder this will be.”

Blackwing was peacefully quiet, as it always is many stories in the sky. Birds singing, wind massaging the sails, and many sleeping crewmates aboard. That all changed when a massive explosion blasted in the center of Blackwing’s beam, rocking the whole ship. It woke everyone, and the smoke could be seen from several miles away. So much for a quiet morning after all.

Amber jumped from her bed, her foot caught in the sheets and she crashed face-first on the floor. An explosion erupted in her brain at least as powerful as the real one, making her doubt for a moment that a real explosion even happened. She sat up and looked around disoriented for a second, her hair falling in frizzy strands in front of her eyes. Then her senses cleared and she jumped out of the room and out on the deck. The cold morning air hit her and coiled around her pjs, making her arms wrap around her for warmth. She stared out at the beam, trying not to shiver.

A whistle on her left made her turn only to see the face of a handsome young man she’d never seen before. His eyes travelled up and down her shorts and tank-top, lingering in places where a man’s eyes always lingered. “Do I need to hit you?” She asked. He smiled bitterly and pushed himself up from the ship’s wall. “Someone already did that yesterday so please refrain yourself.” He peeled his eyes off to stare at the explosion’s direction. “She’s finally making her move.” He grinned.

Adéla was still awake, testing out her newfound abilities and recording the results on her computer. She wasn’t getting too adventurous with them, but some interesting nuances had made themselves known to her through this method. Still, she would have to ask later about any books she could read to further her-

A shockwave rattled through the building, jarring Adéla out of her mildly sleep deprived fog as she jolted to her feet, mind racing. Dressing as fast as she could in the dilatant base of her armor and grabbing her sidearm just in case, she raced to the elevator and upon reaching the floor where she thought the shockwave had originated from, raced for where the source seemed to be.

Ah, so she had been right, at least as to the location. “What in the hell…?” She muttered, looking around for someone who might’ve had at least some idea of what was happening.

Megelis slid into the hallway beside Adéla. “Son of a bitch why in the world is..” Megelis caught sight of Adéla. “I assume you heard that too given the current state of your gear.” Megelis wasn’t wearing any of his armor but his sword was held in his left hand still in the sheath.

“No, I definitely did not feel that powerful shock wave.” Adéla snarked, “You have any idea who’s attacking, if it’s an attack? I don’t see anything else, and no more explosions, it seems to be just the one.” She cracked her knuckles, watching the ship closely, “Perhaps one of us should grab a first aid kit, just in case.”

Megelis frowned. “Sentinel hasn’t alerted anyone… Okay grab a medkit, I think that was the Blackwing.” Megelis turned and tapped a wall panel. “Eve, would you meet me and Adéla at the Blackwing? Something just went down and I’d like some backup in case Adéla and I need some magic.” With that he turned back. “I’ll call the elevator meet you at the end of the hall.”

Adéla didn’t have to go far to find a medkit she could take. It was a rather sizeable affair actually, about as large as an average sized backpack, the nurse she’d gotten it from had said it was designed for EMTs arriving on scene with little support. Apparently, it even included a collapsing stretcher, somehow.

She slung the kit over her shoulder and ran for the elevator. In the back of her mind she wondered if she would have need to use her own recently discovered abilities, but she extinguished those thoughts and caught up with Megelis. “Got it. Let’s go see who’s causing that racket.”

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”GET OUT HERE.”

Marielle snarled. ”I’M TIRED OF PLAYING FETCH FOR YOU OLD LADY. GIVE ME BACK WHAT’S MINE.” Her fist lay on the hard flooring of Blackwing’s largest portion, crumbs of combustion sprawled around it. Lady Marrowblade was the last person she wanted to have her will under constriction. The captain never listens to what she has to say, and at this rate she’ll never give it back. I have to take it from her by force. No bitch has the right to my will but me. Marielle stood up and stretched, eyeing one of Raven’s surprised pirates. “Look,” She growled. “Find Lady Bitchface and tell her that she needs to get her ass kicked.” The pirate gave her a look of disbelief, a look of almost pity. Marielle grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, a dark look capturing her features. ”I know you heard me fucker.”

“That’s enough, Marielle.”

There she was, clad in her full armor. The pirate queen. Her eyes were a deep red, staring into her student like hot ice. Her voice was sharp enough to cut the top of an entire forest.

Over Raven’s left shoulder Shard stood watching with folded arms and eyes full of storm clouds. He made no move to interfere with the two women. Shards armor was different than before, it was composed of a breastplate and the fluid storm crystals connecting his gauntlets and Greaves. The Heart of Storms hung from his left hip in its sword form. “Young Lady, I would advise you to rethink your course of action.” His voice was calm and soothing but there was a clear warning in it.

There she was. The boss’ lover, the Pirate Queen, Raven Marrowblade… a legend in the flesh. Her eyes hid secrets he couldn’t even imagine. “Are you serious?” Sirius whispered, a smile twitching on his lips. “She’s gonna challenge that?!” This girl was braver than him.

Beside him Amber withheld a laugh. This was a long time coming and Raven should have expected it. A girl like Marielle could only be pushed so far until she snapped… and she could never be tamed. It had taken Akime a hundred years to take the same edge off herself, and that was probably only possible because she was already dead. When she spotted the half-hidden master of the tower, her smile froze. The one man she never wished to see again, the same stormy eyes that still haunted her nightmares.

Amber turned and ran back to her cabin. Sirius didn’t spare her as much as a glance.

Marielle’s dark scowl turned upwards in a maniacal grin. ”THERE YOU ARE.” She cackled. Her eyes were bright orange like an old brewing star. ”Took you long enough, old lady. I was just about ready to turn this,” she holds up the pirate further, who makes no effort to squirm from her grip. “Into crisp.” Marielle then gripped air. The pirate she clutched was gone. What?!

He was in Raven’s arms, not a single gold hair out of place.

“Marielle, your frustration is with me. Not with the innocent.” The pirate suddenly appeared in the crowd of Raven’s crew and members of the tower. Almost everyone jolted at the sudden appearance, and the pirate just stared at Raven. He knew his Lady’s power all too well. Raven showed no signs of movement.

Marielle was shaking with rage. “Then stop hiding behind Shard like a DOG, if you’re all powerful, PROVE IT.” Fire surrounded Marielle like a magnet to her skin, slithering around her. ”Give me my will back.”

Raven’s lips gently frowned at the edges. “Marielle...I’ve done this to protect--”

“STOP PROTECTING ME!” Marielle blasted. “STOP. GIVE ME MY WILL BACK TO FIGHT YOU.”

A purple dome spiraled around the two, separating the duo from the crowd as Raven’s heels gently clapped against the floor. She made her way to the center, eyes locked on Marielle. Raven knew at this point there was no use resisting. She wanted her student to be safe at all cost, but she’d long realized it was putting her companions in danger. She was smarter than to let this go on any longer. It has been a while since she brawled against a woman in this manner. There was a flash of expression as Raven eyed the girl of flames, as if she were staring in a mirror. It quickly evaporated back to her usual expressionless demeanor. I wonder if this was how the chimera felt. She entertained the thought while inhaling.
Raven had created a magical barrier around the two, to prevent any recoil for Marielle’s will. She knew that she could never miss be it she had to use her own, her student, however, was more wild with her swings.
Sorry, Christian, our...date...will have to wait for a moment. she slipped the words into his mind. Faster than a blink of an eye Raven’s armor popped into thin air, leaving the woman in a white tank top, black under hand wraps (Save for her tech arm) and long pants that tucked up at the knee, leaving black footwraps covering her bare legs and feet. The woman had her hood up covering her face. Normally this would block all human vision, but this way she could see all. Her bare shoulders displayed black tattoos that shone like oil. Tattoos of a queen of midnight. Standing as still as ice, she waited, before finally exhaling. This granted Marielle her full capacity back.

“As you wish, Marielle.”

The student burst into flames, a loud roar thundering from the explosion, smoke flooding and shaping from inside the dome like an orb before being released at the bottom. Oh...fuck...yes…. Marielle’s heart sang with the union of her captured power, turning her skin into raw energy. The corners of her eyes winced from the pain, but a grin melted and stretched her lips. Locksis…. She laughed. I hope you’re watching. With that she jammed a ten of spades into her arm.

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Not a problem Christian sniffed the air and turned his head to look over his shoulder at the cabin; the strangest feeling that he had smelled something on the air once a long time ago coming over him. With a shrug he dismissed it. A man in grey and tan detached himself from the crowd and made his way over to Shard, the man’s hair immediately gave him away. “Lazarus, come to see the fun I assume?” The other man raised an eyebrow “Fun? Gee I love the prospect of death on a grand scale so early in the morning. Nothing like that to get the Grand Lich’s attention am I right?” Lazarus deadpan was erased by the appearance of another individual. “You know that never works on me.” Shard chuckled and Lazarus looked at him like he was crazy. Ralrisk detached herself from the shadow behind Shard and approached to his other side. Her face was sour like a pouting teenager. “How do you do that.” Shard just chuckled and turned back to Raven and Marielle, “I can smell you a mile away, no matter how you change your shampoo or perfume you still smell like the Shadow realm.” He hastily added when she shot him a dirty look “Not that, that is a bad thing.”

Lazarus peered at Ralrisk. “Is this the brat you took in when her sister tried to kill her?” Shard glared at Lazarus and Ralrisk cowered a little. “Lay off her Lazarus.” Lazarus looked taken aback for a moment. “Sorry, she just grew up really fast. i wasn’t sure.” Shard shrugged “Well when you’re locked-” Lazarus returned the glare and Shard chuckled.

Zachary approached Blackwing and descended to the deck. It appeared that the hot head had decided to go supernova. Vulture landed on his shoulder. Shivering Zachary made eye contact with Lazarus, it was uncomfortable being this close to the Avatar of Death. Vulture adjusted himself before settling in on Crow’s shoulder. “Stupid. You’re going to get yourself snuffed. The hell would you fight Raven for?” Crow frowned. “Dumbass”

Adéla emerged from the elevator with Megelis in tow only to be greeted with… not what she’d expected. She looked back to Megelis for some inkling of what was happening here before shrugging and moving a little closer to better get a sense of things. Spotting a familiar face in the crowd, she made her way over to Christian, folding her arms over her chest as she watched the altercation in front of them. “So… what’s happening here, exactly?”

Christian looked up as Megelis and Adéla arrived “Marielle is renegotiating the terms of her contract with Raven it would appear.” Megelis shook his head. “That sounds like a bad idea, Raven can safely go ten rounds with you. Marielle is in for the ass beating of a lifetime.” Megelis rolled on of the barrels on the deck over and perched on it folding his legs; laying his sword across his lap. “Adéla if you wanna settle in, this shouldn’t take that long.” Christian chuckled at that. A motion caught his eye and he turned towards Ralrisk who was pointedly ignoring Megelis on the other side of him.

You and Ris having a fight? Megelis looked up at Christian whose eyes were now a bronzed gold. She’s been acting all weird since we got on board Nemesis. I don’t know what happened. Shard turned back to the two combatants I suspect that you are probably leaving out a key detail. Megelis snorted Yeah a detail I don’t see as being important but clearly she does.

Adéla wasn’t exactly sure what to think of the situation. “So, she woke everyone up so she could have an argument with Raven? What kind of…” She shook her head, leaning against a nearby beam as she folded her arms over her chest. “Well, I brought this first aid kit here, so if someone ends up bleeding out we can do a little more than just stand around gawking.” She noticed another woman who seemed to be steadfastly ignoring the boss of the Tower. Another person she should know and didn’t, she presumed. Curiosity prodded at the back of her mind but she shushed it for the moment, she could ask when there wasn’t a potentially very lethal fight going on.

Sirius’ eyes narrowed when Marielle’s whole body went ablaze and then averted his gaze. That’s when he spotted the whole elite of the Tower, along with some new faces at the opposite end of the deck. Even the girl who hit him earlier was there. Hmph. Perhaps a piece of debris would avenge him. Then again, the light surrounding Lady Marrowblade probably wouldn’t allow it. For a moment he considered strolling over to the Tower Knights (after all, they were his people whereas the pirates surrounding him were complete strangers) but decided against it. He’d have to walk way too close to the two fighting women and that would probably be unwise. So he just leaned back on the side of the ship and shoved his hands in his pockets. He hoped the show was good, it was early in the morning and it was still pretty cold. Then again – his lips stretched – it seemed like Marielle was about to change that.

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It hurts… Marielle’s grin matched the wild flames dancing around her body. Just a fifth of spades is lethal, using twice the energy could tear her body apart. She was not one to care about pain, though, not so long as her opponent hurt worse than her. Her muscles were stiff as they went for the deck in her pocket, eyeing her master for any movements.

Raven’s eyes shone with concern. Her soft words bleeding into Marielle’s head, a slightly tough edge on them. Marielle… The lady knew that the path the girl was taking was dangerous. Using way more power than her body could handle was not wise.

The student ignored them, however, and charged her. She quickly collapsed the distance between the two and sent a right cross straight for Raven’s head. It felt as if she didn’t move, but the woman’s head tilted to the side, and Marielle completely missed. This threw off her balance and sent her to the wall of Raven’s magic, flames all around her combusting like a grenade. It was as if Raven completely changed the placement of her body as Marielle threw the punch.
Marielle roared and threw herself back at Raven, throwing punch after punch in explosive consistency. The last punch Marielle threw caused an uppercut of flames, smoking the area in grey.

When it cleared, Raven stood, completely unharmed. Marielle stared in disgust. The student threw her arms up in the air, collapsing a ton of molecules and forcing them to speed up. The ball of light in her hands grew to twice the size of her head before throwing it straight for Raven, the light exploding, and filling the barrier dome with physical light.

Raven was behind Marielle. She had her arms behind her back, unphased. Her eyes were distant, as if they were staring through the absolutely livid being in front of her. Marielle quickly spun out of reflex, lifting her leg up in a kick as she used her body to power it. Raven caught it, with no resistance. The captain gently released her hold on Marielle and the motion forced the girl’s body to obey a terrifying push, violently pulling her to the complete opposite end of the barrier.

The slick elixir of Raven’s voice melted into venom. “Stop this…Now.”

Marielle lay on the floor. Her body shook as she placed her palms on the ground and pressed down, forcing herself upright. She spat blood, painting the wooden boards with small dots of red. Parts of her skin were peeled due to the overuse of the power. No… In her hand clutched a card. Using all her effort, while releasing a pained grunt, She jammed it into the tenth of spades. Lady Marrowblade’s face darkened after the card shone from the sunlight. The joker. “Why….” Marielle started inching towards her. “Won’t you..just..DIE?!” She suddenly moved so fast it was hard for the average eye to see, forcing herself at Raven. Marielle’s limbs violently thrashed around in structured punches and kicks, throwing everything against Raven’s body, marking it for death. The pirate queen’s body morphed from the impacts, twisting and cracking from the raw power. The sound of gunfire and smell of burning skin erupted in the air as Marielle threw a long, nasty flurry.

Marielle’s voice contorted to a dark, loud rumble as she laughed. Then, there was another sound. Breaking and evaporating glass. Marielle’s eyes turned from chaotic to surprised, and before the world could see it Raven punched Marielle’s cheek from behind, the ten of spades and joker in the woman’s hand. Marielle had no room or time to scream and was sent rocketing into the barrier’s wall again. A loud rumble snaked itself around the entire ship from the impact, before it gradually fell in decrescendo to complete silence. When the smoke faded Raven was in the center, staring down at her student’s mangled body. Her expression was unreadable, like a grim reaper.

Adéla impassively watched the scene unfold with her mouth set in a firm line. She felt rather sorry for Marielle, at least, from her rather ignorant perspective on the matter. Why the girl had decided to challenge Raven in the first place however, perplexed her. It was painfully obvious she was nowhere near the older woman, so why potentially get herself killed for a little money?

She’d seen similar curb stomps in the Stygian Blade as a matter of fact. Even participated in some herself. Some up and coming wet behind the ears rookie would get it into their head that they were hot shit, and decide to challenge one of the older and more powerful members for their position, or something silly. Such scenarios usually ended up in the challenger being carted out on a stretcher, if not outright dead. She’d had to deal with it herself as she ascended the ranks. A recently joined grunt would get it into her head after a successful raid or somesuch that she was more qualified than the Lord-Commander put in charge of the operation - which usually ended in a corpse. Where the SB recruited such idiots from, she wasn’t sure.

All this came to mind as she watched the fight unfold, and dark images of broken bodies and mangled corpses danced in the back of her mind as she watched the hopelessly outmatched girl wage a fruitless struggle against a far superior opponent. She could still feel the questioning blank stare of countless dead eyes a- no. She closed her own eyes for a moment - that was behind her now. She wasn’t a high ranking member of a terrorist organization, wasn’t executing people daily, was just waiting with a first aid kit for the inevitable outcome of this fight.

Sirius was watching the fight with lips slightly parted and a look of excitement in his eyes. The thundering sounds and blasts of fire and light would have made him flinch if he wasn’t so lost in his own thoughts. He was trying to understand a situation that was beyond his comprehension, a dozen question and scenarios playing out in his mind.

What was the source of such rage? It was obvious to anyone what the little girl was no match for the pirate queen. Yet she had come here, demanding this match… to regain her will? But why not just leave after she got it. There was either something deeper going on here or the little knight was simply that petulant. Or was Marielle just plain suicidal? It intrigued him greatly. He watched her vigilantly and savoured the way their bodies moved in unison.

As the fight finished, almost as quickly as expected, he approached the women… just as a girl peeled off the crowd on the other side and stood in front of him. Ah…. That one. His eye twitched before getting locked by her coldly contemptuous ones.

“Leave.” She said simply, her glare like ice as the few scattered flames still burned behind the barrier.

Sirius frowned with a sour twist to his lips. “High temperatures can cause irreversible damage to a human, body, especially the brain. …Something you’re surely prepared to dealing with.” He mocked, eyeing the first aid kit.

He put a hand on the barrier and glanced Raven’s eyes, looking for any disapproval or warning. “May I?” He asked, ignoring the little twerp next to him.

Adéla continued to glare icicles at Sirius as she pushed him aside. “Perhaps,” she stated coolly, “letting the little sadist attend to her wouldn’t be advisable. I…” She paused, she didn’t know any healing magic, “I have a stretcher, we should get her to an infirmary.”

Raven’s eyes slid up to Sirius’s, then Adéla’s, her expression cold and lifeless, staring thousands of years into the past. Her stare glided back down to Marielle laying on the ground, the red in her look suddenly lifelike when her student stirred. “She’s still alive,” She whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

The cold voice rang out from behind Raven. “She isn't going to pass over in my presence. Death itself bends to my will. You have no fear of killing her.” Lazarus stood next to Shard in the same spot he’d been through the whole fight. “You could even conceivably tear her apart and she would still live if I chose to bar the way.” Shard gave Lazarus a look and he stopped talking. Folding his arms and resuming his stony silence as he observed.

Marielle’s voice was but a mere whisper, but it was enough for the lady to hear. She hears all. ”Why...won’t you tell me where he is…?” She coughed and shivered, whole body going numb. ”You...promised…” Finally, the student’s breathing slowed as she passed out on the beam of blackwing.

Immediately Raven shot her hand out, collecting the moon energy that created the barrier before turning on her heel and walking away. Her lips moved, but nobody could hear it save for one. As the last of the barrier died down a girl ran to the center of the scene, her long red hair glistening from the early morning sunlight as she strode towards Marielle slowly. Before anyone could blink Raven’s armor was back on her body before she vanished from sight.

Rolling his eyes at Adéla’s suspicion, Sirius decided to ignore the threat and crouched down next to Marielle. Carefully he lifted her head and rested it in his lap. At the initial contact he literally burnt his fingers on her skin but a quick water spell fixed that. Mist started rising from his hands as he held the girl’s body up, enveloping her to cool her down gently and steadily.

“Now if we just had a stretcher.” He smiled at Adéla, implying he’s ready to surrender his patient over.

Adéla didn’t say anything, pulling out the stretcher from the oversized first aid kit and gently maneuvering her onto it. She pulled out a small tube and flicked it twice before pressing it firmly against Marielle’s arm, hopefully that would dull the pain somewhat. Slinging the pack over her back she moved to the rear end of the stretcher, looking over to Sirius as she murmured just loud enough for him to hear, “Take the other side, please.” Sirius did without much commentary.

The girl with long scarlet hair approached the duo, eyeing the new patient with her minty glass eyes. She was silent, taking her hand and feeling the top of Marielle’s forehead to check her temperature, deep in focus.

Adéla looked over, “Can we safely move her,” she paused, “Eh… what’s your name?”

The girl looked up and gave a smile with white teeth. A soft whisper flooded into Adéla’s ears. Her voice was like melted butter, and sang like the most exotic birds in spring. ”Hello. I am the main medical source for blackwing. It is nice to meet you. I can tell you’re very caring.” With that her smile faded back to a look of concentration, getting a read on Marielle’s most fatal wounds.

That wasn’t quite the answer she’d be looking for. Adéla pressed again, “Yes, it’s wonderful that you think I’m nice, and we can talk about that later. But I need to know if we can safely move her to the infirmary. Anything we can do out here will be much better in there.”

The strange girl nodded.

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Shard turned to Megelis “I’d say the girl has talent. I think it’s gone relatively uncultivated though until now” Megelis nodded absently “Since when can Lady Marrowblade move faster than I can see?” Ralrisk snorted and Megelis gave her a dirty look. Shard’s lack of intervention made his two lieutenants look at him. The distant gaze made both of them frown. Shard finally spoke “Might be good for her to have an instructor, with that much power she could cause some serious problems for the Tower without discipline…” Megelis watched Shard but his confused stare suddenly turned to a look of abject horror. “No way. Shard! you can’t be serious. That BITCH burned down half of Kevin’s watch with ONE MATCH. One Match!!” Ralrisk maintained the confused look until it suddenly dawned on her who was being discussed. “She’s Stygian! You can’t bring her here.” Shard frowned at Ralrisk “Just because she was born with a Stygian name doesn’t mean that she is a member of the Stygian blade.” Lazarus raised an eyebrow at the conversation. “Who are we talking about?” Megelis turned to Lazarus “Lady Firebrand.” Lazarus eyebrows shot up at that. “Fuck. That. Kaelia the Tarot is fifty different kinds of bad news and that is not including her capacity to melt durasteel. Shard I know you’re different but I didn’t realize you were stupid.” It was Shard’s turn to act surprised. “Kaelia came to us after you left...how do you..?” Lazarus muttered “Reputation, there is only one person who could make these two scared. Besides she’s about as mature as Marielle is, you want her to teach Marielle how to use fire? Jesus when did you acquire a thrice damned death wish.”

Shard gave all three of them a condescending look “Luckily none of you are my Mistress of Sight, I’ll talk to Raven but I think this is a much more productive idea than you are giving me credit for.”

All three of them gave Shard a less than agreeable stare.

“I said I’d talk with Raven, calm down.”

The base of operations for the Knights was in a rundown section of Angel’s Landing. Far enough from the fight to keep them out of the usual lines of fire but close enough that if they were paid for a mission they could easily move out. The building itself was the remains of a rotting mansion that overlooked a hill neighborhood which had been demolished early in the war when the Stygian Liberation forces had stormed the outer circle of Angel’s Landing. It had an easy view of the surroundings for the member on patrol. It was also rumored that the whole neighborhood had tunnels through the hills beneath it allowing the Knights to move quickly from their base to other areas of the decrepit neighborhood.

Akime would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous walking towards the mercenaries’ hideout. Pardon, Headquarters. Knowing that they were probably on her side just as often as they were on the Strygian didn’t mean anything. And that their services were a matter of price was no consolation either, as she didn’t truly believe that anyone willing to trade with human souls would offer a fair deal. Ibuki hadn’t either, which is why he was currently imprisoned in a cell… well… somewhere.

As she was walking down the street her eyes were peered on the run-down mansion at the hill’s base. There was a reason she’d come this way, making herself easy to spot from afar. She was wearing a full-body armour and yet she was making her presence known, a peaceful march that came with a warning. Her movements were those of a predator, hips swaying with cautious grace, the shimmer of a hundred souls drifting behind her like an ethereal mantle. She wasn’t afraid of the men and women in that mansion. But it would be stupid to underestimate them.

Akime had seen them in action with her own eyes and sensed the heat of their magic on her skin. But she wasn’t intimidated by the so-called “knights”. It was sadness that drove her. She had lost a dear friend to Christian Highfell and that wasn’t even the problem. Amber was prepared to die as soon as she joined the resistance, they all were. But keeping her soul trapped… that was a whole different story.

Despite Akime’s eyes never leaving the mansion, her other senses were keenly observing the vicinity for any threats. She wasn’t a brilliant fighter but she was good enough to be able to evade the first blow… and after that all she needed was a simple touch. She squeezed her fist and relaxed it absently. She’d never had to test her skills against an avatar before. But maybe today she’d have to.

Adris Blackeye caught sight of the figure moving towards the mansion long before she even knew the marksman was there. The man was the last in a line of Stygian experiments. One of the ones that had been deemed intelligent and fit for duty. When Shard had freed him, he’d immediately joined up. Sighting in his scope he picked up the figured moving towards the HQ. “Proximity sensors were right. And she’s definitely wielding a superior will Lord Shard”

The lone gunman lowered the rifle and waved down the outer defenses. It looked like today she was getting an audience.
Once she had approached to within shouting distance Adris drew her attention. “The front is open, if you don’t cause trouble you won’t have trouble. Lord Shard will hear whatever it is you have to say.” With that Adris disappeared back into the crenellations of the mansion's roof where he made his perch.

Civilised bunch. Akime marvelled with a small scoff. Of course, that was to be expected – mercenaries don’t make their business by shooting first and asking questions later. She stopped in front of their hive, exploring the exterior for a bit before walking in. The armour gave a soft clang as she stood in front of the first man in sight. “‘If you don’t cause trouble you won’t have trouble?’ I have trouble and Shard is who has caused it. Will you take me to him or do I have to find him myself?” Of course, that was no problem. As the walls of the mansion engulfed her shadow, her senses expanded into the mansion, a hundred little lights and windows, eyes illuminating the auras of dozens of men and women. And of course, there were a few places where the concentration of magic was especially strong and it wasn’t hard to guess the Avatar was in one of those.

“I’ll help” The mountain of a man was easily seven feet tall. Sporting a weapons the size of small trees and his body seemed to radiate its own form of anti magic. It was as if the Giant were emitting a wave of counter magic from his body. “You’re the Bloody one.” The giant grinned. “The Autumn Lord was looking for you before Shard freed me. You were next on the list of prey.” His teeth were jagged and yellow stained.

Leading Akime he headed straight for the largest source of magic in the building.

“I don’t do well with being prey.” Akime smirked as she fell in toe. She wasn’t particularly happy with the man knowing the nickname she had tried to leave back in hell but she couldn’t hold it against him either. Feeling oddly conversational, she decided on a little chat. “Where did he free you from? You strike me as a man hard to contain.”

Falreion looked at her as he walked. “You don’t understand because you were born free. Very few fae are born free of a Lord. The rest of us have to earn freedom from our masters.” returning his gaze forward he kept walking. “I was the Autumn Huntsman, and it was a sight to behold when we were on the hunt, but now. Now things are just as interesting only I don’t have to wait for a hunt.” Stopping before a door he pushed it open. “Here you are”

Akime frowned. How come the past always lingered one step behind you, ready to bite you in the ass when you’d just managed to forget about it? How many more knew? “Now the world is your oyster and everyone is fair game.” She stated flatly and stepped through the door.

“Exactly.”

Christian looked up from his war table. Standing around it were the masters. Orfring Nightshade The master of Blade stood with his arms crossed staring down at the table as well not acknowledging Akime’s presence. The man radiated malice, his armor was made of reforged Stygian steel. Even touching him was inviting death. The next woman at the table was the Mistress of Sight. Violet Highfell, The Shard’s sister and the heiress of the Lightning Blade and one of the most deadly Elementalists in Galendar. The master of Shadow was even more frightening, he was a Godblood by the name of Lazarus Pavaine. He was also the High Necromancer of Yishreenok and the Avatar in waiting. Christian’s other Masters were not present but the four in the room were more than enough to rain death and destruction.

Akime’s eyes slid across the men and women in the room, her eyebrows rising slightly. Apparently she hadn’t been very attentive because the number of people came as a surprise, and not necessarily a pleasant one. Dealing with one powerful individual was, after all, much easier than taking your chances against four, and the Will she could sense was almost enough to choke on. She only recognised Orfring Nightshade but she could tell now that they were all to be respected.

What did you expect, strolling into the lion’s den? Her lips twitched in a contained smile. Ibuki might well have been right that this was a bad idea. Personally, though, she utterly enjoyed it.

“I’m sorry for intruding.” Her eyes stopped on the only man whose aura fit that of the Avatar of Storms. “I’d like a word in private with Lord Highfell.”

Christian gave a nod and the other three members of his inner circle stood and made their way out of the room. Lord Nightshade smirked as he passed.Christian sat back in his chair “What can I do for you? We aren’t being paid by anyone right now so I can’t imagine that you’re a messenger from either side. So why are you here?” He didn’t exude the same malice the others did. If anything it was simply an alien greed.

And greed was dangerous in itself. She wondered how he’d react to her request. Walking up to the table, Akime steeled her nerves and spoke up.

“Lord Highfell,” she started, wondering if calling a thief and mercenary “lord” was even appropriate. “…we’ve never met but our armies have. My name is Akime and I stand on the side of Angel’s Landing’s defenders. I’ve come here because you have something I want back. Something that’s not rightfully yours. Isabelle Venora’s soul. A woman who died by your hand not long ago and was denied the right of passing on.” She half-sat on the table, the dragon-like tail of her armour hanging off the side. “Of course I don’t expect a man such as yourself to offer it for free. After all, our ideas of dignity differ. But I have no idea what you could ask for in return, hence the lack of a huge briefcase.”

Christian snorted. “You clearly have failed your history lessons. Then again you didn’t exactly grow up in Galendar. I’m really surprised that whoever raised you didn’t give you a little more instruction. I am a Bronze Dragon at heart. You’re sorely mistaken if you think my motivation is something other than wealth. Unfortunately, just because I did the killing doesn’t mean I have the soul. She’s part of a Gift now. Lazarus is preparing a batch of souls for the Avatar of Yishreenok. Your Isabelle is probably one of them. And if you want to avoid things like that in the future tell your higher ups to pay us more. The Stygian army pays way too much to pass up for SINGLE jobs. It’s not even a retainer.” Gesturing at the table “What are you prepared to offer? And on top of that what are you prepared to offer Lazarus? Since he’s the second person you have to convince to release her.”

Akime’s brows furrowed. Really, why did the past always linger one step behind you? The words stung because they held some truth. It’s true she didn’t know enough about the man she was facing, a personal flaw of hers that she shared with Isabelle – she considered battle way more fun if you didn’t know enough of the enemy beforehand. As he mentioned of her friend’s soul being a gift, Akime’s heart beat faster. She had a very specific opinion on necromancy.
Sighing slightly she tried to calm the rage. Stop thinking of picking a fight with them. Think of another option. So it could have been as easy as gold?

“Let’s solve one problem at a time, shall we. How much do you want?”

Christian looked her up and down. “Three times your weight in precious metals, gold, silver, platinum, titanium. Whatever. That’s the price for dealing with Lazarus. After that whatever he says goes. Although it's going to be steep.” Christian stopped for a moment. “Never thought I’d set the price on a soul. Yishreenok must be laughing somewhere right now.” Christian shrugged.

I’d have to lose weight. She thought bitterly as she gave a nod. This fortune was going to take a while to collect. After all, she didn’t intend to bring back Isabelle jusr in order to let her fight again and wasn’t going to ask anyone for help either. “That’s because souls have no real value, Shard.” She skipped any formalities. “No amount of gold or platinum can compare to the value of human ideas. Not that I expect you to understand. Anyway, how much time do I have?”

Christian shrugged. “As much as you want. I have no control over Lazarus’s gifts to Yishreenok. That is something you’ll have to take up with him. And as for my understanding of life and ideas I’d say you’re even further away from being able to talk than I am. After all the rumors I’ve heard. I’m surprised that you haven’t had a visit from the God-slayer, Lord Umbral.” Christian smiled with a wicked light in his eyes. “Anything else?”

“A wise man never judges based on rumours.” Akime smirked, getting off the table and reaching out to run a finger along his chin. “Thank you for your time, Lord.” She said with equal amounts of respect and mockery. “I believe I should catch up with your necromancer now.”

Christian chuckled. “You’ve been warned. Lazarus is something else entirely.” Stretching Christian stood up. “Believe it or not I do have a strange purpose. Perhaps one day you’ll understand. Good luck with Lazarus. Perhaps he will have some sort of mercy. I’d have given you the soul for the money; but few if any can fathom Lazarus.” Christian sat back. “We may meet again one day Lady Akime. That is if someone doesn’t get to you first.”

Akime felt like he was waiting to clink a glass with her. But his lax attitude wasn’t shared by her. She wasn’t here to play games or be witty. “Let’s hope we’re not unfortunate enough to meet again, Lord Highfell. Now, if you excuse me.” She nodded instead of a bow and made her way out of the room. Now that she had seen the necromancer’s aura, it was easy to recognise him.

A man with a distinct preference for leather, as necromancers went… Her eyes slid down to his hands and she felt the impulse to clench her fist. She didn’t like necromancers and the thought that it was those hands that had touched Isabelle and ripped her soul away just to use it for his own goals, was disgusting. She didn’t try to hide the hostility in her eyes as she looked to meet “Lazarus’”.

“Apparently I need to talk to you as well. I want one of your souls back.”

The man looked up from a book he was reading as he crouched with his back up against the wall where he’d been waiting for Akime and Christian to finish. “The fuck you want a soul for? Did you really waste Christian’s time for that? Jeez.” Lazarus stood up and closed the book. “How do you even know I have the soul?” Lazarus folded his arms and ran his eyes up and down her before raising an eyebrow. “Wait. You’re.” the laughter was genuine. “Oh shit I should NOT be talking to you let alone considering giving you a soul. If the Avatar found out It’d be my neck on the line.” With that he gestured and started walking down the hall. “You have a name? I mean. I know you have a name but I don’t wanna call you something you don’t wanna be called.”

“Do you honestly care if you offend me?” She scoffed bemused and followed. “Call me Akime, or Phoenix if you prefer.” It clicked quickly that by Avatar he didn’t mean Highfell but Zazriel, the current Avatar of Death. And Lazarus’ words were no surprise, if there was anyone Akime would disagree with it would be that man. “Yet you’re considering it.” She pointed out.

Lazarus scowled back at her. “Look. You didn’t choose who you are and I didn’t either. I know true fae are born that way. Well. Necromancers of the highest degree are chosen. It’s not like I targeted your friend’s soul. This is a war and people get hurt.” The door ahead was not part of the original building and pushing it back revealed a work space with a font of dark energy in it. “Don’t touch it. Infact do your best not to look at it. It’s a crack that needs directly into Yishreenok’s realm. If it even smells you it will send Zazriel to collect you. And I’ll be obligated to help the Avatar.” Approaching the far wall Lazarus began pulling down cubes of green-blue crystal from a shelf. “I need to know who your friend was, otherwise I’ll never find her amongst the dead.”

Akime didn’t want to agree with the man. It was true that more than once she had questioned what made her different from the necromancers and the differences she’d found were few. But they were there, after all, the energy she was using most often came from the recently deceased and it held no traces of their personality. She wouldn’t call it a “soul”. Still, the sight of the green cubes unsettled her more than the prospects of being hunted down by a God’s right hand. “I know how she died, Lazarus.” She attempted to add some respect to the sentence by using his name. “I know it’s as much her fault as her murderer. I’m not holding it against you or your little crew – if I did, I’d have come here with an army. I merely want her back and I’m ready to pay for her. Shard already instructed me on her soul’s monetary value.” She circled around the font, not helping herself with a curious glance and went to stand beside Lazarus. The auras were mangled and mutilated and yet oddly intact. She pointed to the one she needed but didn’t specify her name. With a bit of luck he wouldn’t know Isabelle’s true worth. “It’s her.”

Lazarus plucked the cube from the shelf and held it up for her. “Here, pay Shard’s ransom. And don’t judge him too harshly.” Lazarus gave her half of a smile. “I’m sorry about your friend. She’s lucky. Most people aren’t.”

Well what do you know, a necromancer with a soul of his own. Surprise painted her features. “Just like that? Despite all the trouble you said it could cause?”

“I said you could cause trouble, not the soul.” He waved his hand. “Go on, don’t tell Christian I gave you that. And don’t forget to pay him. If you do he’ll make me drag you back here, take the soul back and find some way of making you worth money.” Lazarus leaned on the table and stared at the wall of souls. “She goes free but you know I have to find someone to take her place. That is the price. If you care enough to come find her then that price should be heavy enough.”

No, it wasn’t. Maybe she was a horrible person for thinking that, but she’d sacrifice a dozen souls for someone like Isabelle. She was a pearl in the gutter, a woman with a true vision she still hadn’t had the chance to share. A child prematurely killed by greedy kings.

Akime gave Lazarus another appraising look. In light of the recent events, maybe he wasn’t so bad. He definitely seemed better than Shard, although she hadn’t forgotten his warning about the man. They said never to judge a book by its cover and even though she still did, she didn’t dismiss the possibility for being wrong. Whether this was a trick, a gesture of goodwill that Lazarus would use against her when she least expects it, was uncertain. And even though she was curious to get to know him better, and maybe have some fun with the Avatar of Death, it wouldn’t just be her own skin on the line if she stayed. For now it sounded best to get going before he changed his mind about Isabelle.

“Thank you.” She said as she turned to leave.

“Do your best to stay away. If we ever cross paths again, I may be forced to try and take you with me to Yishreenok.” Lazarus stayed looking at the wall. “Good luck.”



It had been roughly two years since she’d last had to seek out the Avatar of Storms. It was a hard year for all, with people stuck between the warring sides and trying to keep making a living in the meantime. Work was abundant around Angel’s Landing but the work that was best-paid wasn’t something Akime did happily. Hits, army orders, sabotage, spying, bribing, the whole array. After all, everything was fair in love and war. It didn’t help that she herself often had to lead the defence and didn’t have the time for even the most tedious paid work. So she had to do a few things she wasn’t especially proud of but that helped collect a part of what she owed Shard. The rest she had to travel to get. It was a long and tiring business but soon it would all be over.

So now that peace was finally setting in in the realm, she was headed to meet the Storm Avatar once more. However where she found him wasn’t in the old run-down mansion. Instead he was inhabiting the construction-site of what seemed to be a pretty grandiose design. This time she had made her visitation known by sending a letter in advance. If he was going to handle this personally, and she really hoped he was, he would be waiting for her to arrive. Her and Ibuki, as he was tasked with the huge briefcase that was too heavy for herself to carry. Or so she said.

The structure was the first four floors of a tower. Already the massive structure was becoming a maze of rooms and passages and the scaffolding seemed to suggest that the tower would continue to climb.

The beat of wings ruffled the air as a shadow fell across the construction site. A massive bronze dragon hovered clutching a net in its claws. The net had large slabs of stone in it clearly a similar material to the tower. As the dragon set the net down a swarm of workers converged on the net. Pulling it open they began to move and cut the massive stone pieces. The dragon shifted into a human form and began to walk towards the two individuals.

Christian was wholly different. He wore canvas pants and a grey shirt. His hands were rough from work and he looked tired. “Hello Akime. It's been a while.”

“Hello, Lord.” She smiled sincerely. Whoever he was, she always appreciated the sight of a being as majestic as a dragon. “I like your shopping net. It reminds me of old ladies.”

Ibuki shot her a glare and bowed to the man in front of him. Not because he liked the man, he just didn’t want any trouble. “This is my henchmen, Ibuki. We bring your gold.” Akime pointed with her thumb. She’d been around men too long, Ibuki decided as he offered his hand for a shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

Christian offered his hand in return. “Hello” after shaking Ibuki’s hand he took the case and opened it. “I’ve had to do significantly more of the work than I expected. There are a lot of outstanding debts that I haven’t been able to call in. Thank you for bringing this. It’s purchased part of a dream that has been a millennium in the making.” Turning Christian handed the case off to a passing worker. “Whenever you have the rest bring it”

Akime smirked, putting a hand on her hip. “You should feel honoured, I mined that out myself. If it goes towards the making of your villa, I expect a plaque with my name on it somewhere on a significant spot.” She glanced at Ibuki who was biting his lip, convinced that she had a deathwish. She didn’t care, Shard had given her quite some grief so the least she could do was aggravate him. She showed her hand to Christian. It wasn’t in a much better state than his. “And you have no idea how many nails I broke getting you that.”

Christian shrugged. “You’re welcome to call the Tower home. It’s a beacon for the lost. Sacrifices had to be made for it but in the end I will make the ends justify the means. Even if they don’t. I’ve waited more than long enough for this to see its final stages. My apologies to your nails” Looking at Ibuki he raised an eyebrow as though to ask why he was biting his lip. “Do you have a plan to find the rest?”

“Wait.” Akime scowled and stepped forward, invading Christian’s personal space and looking up to him an inch away from his face. “Are you the same person I met two years ago? What’s happened for you.”

“Nothing” Christian gave her a flat stare. “Just because you assumed that I was a bad person two years ago didn’t make me a bad person. There is nothing wrong with greed; although the fact that I chose to do something with it makes it better by most conventional morality. If I judged you by you on what I know of you I’d say you were a snotty bitch who I should have had Darkeye put a bullet in between her eyes the moment she stepped into his sights.”

Shard folded his arms calmly “Not what you expected?”

Ibuki cleared his throat, keeping a close eye on the situation to make sure it doesn’t escalate. He wasn’t even sure why he was so quiet today. It was either what he knew of the Avatar that made him weary, or his lack of patience to deal with Akime right now. Overall, he wasn’t happy about the whole situation and couldn’t wait to be over with.

“No.” She smirked, stepping back. “I can remember now why I didn’t like you. Then again, I like you better now, for all it matters. Back to business, I have the rest ready for you. In fact, I have twice the amount you asked for. I was hoping that since you set the price for a soul a while back, maybe I could buy two. Hers and yours.” Ibuki slapped his forehead loudly and stomped off with an audible “I’m out of here.” Akime didn’t take her gleaming eyes off Christian’s.

“Doesn’t belong to me” Christian’s delivery was flat and matter of fact. Eyeing Ibuki Christian raised his eyebrow again. “What the hell is his problem? and if you have the payment where is it?” A worker approached and Shard signed off on something after looking at it for a moment. What in the world was this woman playing at? Since Raven had left he hadn’t even considered anything that could possibly jeopardize his future. “Besides, I’m worth more. Nothing against your friend but I’m an endangered species and an Avatar.” Christian turned over the page the worker had handed him. “Besides what the hell would you do with my soul?”

Akime chuckled. So the rumours were true, there was something other than greed at play here. “Ibuki’s problem is me, don’t take it personal. He’s always cranky nowadays. As for your soul, I don’t really need it. I was just curious how far your greed stretches. What the reasons are for it. I see that it would take me more than a few minutes to figure this out. As for the money…” She reached into the pocket of her overcoat, pulling out a batch of paper. Cheques. “Naturally I couldn’t carry around so much money with me in these turbulent times…” She smirked. “Or didn’t want to. So I thought I’d make sure they’re safe. So here are some special cheques for bans all over Glendar. I believe there must be a list of them somewhere among the sheets if I haven’t forgotten to add it. Anyway, the whole amount is there. The catch is that those are really old-fashioned banks and they only hand out money if you collect it yourself. I thought after all this dirty business you deserve a little trip around the world, no?”

Christian gave a snort. “Please, this is like a twenty minute trip at most.” He flipped through the checks. “You really don’t get out much. I took the key to Kevin’s watch vault out from underneath their nose in 5 minutes from standing in Angel’s Square.” Christian looked back up. “I am the fastest being alive when I want to be believe it or not. Found that out a long time ago” Turning he gestured for her to follow as he walked towards the tower.

Disappointed that her attempt to get on his nerves didn’t work, but nevertheless intrigued, Akime followed. “By the way, you must have realised long ago that I got Isabelle’s soul back in advance. I hope you didn’t give Lazarus too much grief over being more noble than yourself.”

Chuckling Christian kept walking. “Nah, I didn’t care i just wanted the money” still chuckling to himself he walked through the front gate of the tower and into the massive entry way. “Besides, I disbanded those mercenaries over a year ago. Lazarus is the Heir to Death itself. He was alway free to go. Same as all my masters.”

The heir of Death. Bummer. Akime sighted slightly and looked around the construction. It was probably big enough to host Shard’s dragon body. She thought for a second, trying to remember his exact size as one. His appearance had been quite a sight to behold so that wasn’t hard and her impressionable mind immediately produced a clear and detailed picture. Hm. Maybe it wouldn’t fit in here after all. What was this going to be anyway? It was way too grand for a single person, even for a man with his ego. Furthermore, apparently he was right that the Stygians were paying well if he could afford all this even though they had technically lost the war.

Furthermore, why was he bragging to her? Last she remembered they were pretty far from friends, or even friendly with each other. Despite the curiosity she was getting restless and bored. The exchange that was supposed to anger him didn’t even make his eye twitch and it seemed like the joke today was on her, a boring delivery of goods she could have sent anyone else to do if she’d known his nerves were steel.

“Where are we going, Lord?” She asked, still refusing to dignify the title with a name after it. “With my debt to you repaid I think it’s about time I was on my way.”

Christian pointedly ignored her walking until he reached an opening in the center. “It's going to reach high enough for people to see it for miles in every direction. Galendar needs to know that we will take on anything for the right price of course.” Christian neglected to speak to the real reason being that he wanted HER to be able to see it. See it from amongst the stars. A way to come home. “It will be able to house, feed, and maintain a small army and all the required staff. And I built it on the blood money of Galendar past.” He stood staring up lost in his thoughts. “You’d be safe here too. You’ve more than paid for the quarters I built using part of the money.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I know how the other Fae Lords are. They won't accept you. The world won't accept you when they find out. This place was as much built for you as it will be built for every lost soul it will harbor. If that is all you’re welcome to go.” He made no move to do anything other than stare up at the tower. Still lost in thought.

Akime all but stumbled over her own feet. “What?!” She stared at him aghast. The first time he said she can call this project home she thought she'd misheard him. Now she was certain she hadn't. She couldn't do more than stare at him fumble for a few moments, the development coming as a complete surprise. Her next reaction was a violent one.

“Where the hell did you get that idea, Shard?” Her tone was ice and magma. In the blink of an eye she had become the woman raised in Hell to lead and rule. “I traded with you because you had something I wanted, and with my debt repaid the deal between us is complete. You can't buy me. I'm never going to become one of your mercenaries. And I don't care how you phrase it, what you're offering is a chain and I'll never take that, even if all the damn courts and avatars come at me at once. I say let them try.”

Christian turned and gave her an appraising look. “You don't know fear do you? Well then perhaps there is one last thing I can offer you before you go. A taste of fear” Turning he pointed off towards a wall. “Look through that wall. Look for the thing sitting quietly reading. It is one of my oldest acquaintances. It is also one member of a prolific species. It's the only one I've ever encountered and I pray the only one I ever will. Look close and remember.”

Akime looked at him for a few more seconds, unsure if the threat would be followed by an attack. From either side.When she was sure he wouldn’t, and when the rage in her own heart settled slightly, she looked at what he pointed at.

The figure was vaguely human until reality seemed to contort around it. The magic held inside the being was completely alien. It bore no signature of wild magic and didn’t appear to be channeled from any known God. Reality seemed to warp and buck around the magic as though it were being pulled and folded back upon itself. It was like staring into the space between stars where madness sleeps. The figure seemed to notice and turned. Its eyes were green fire and black metal as it drew her in a hundred whispers urging her to kill and maim and perform obscene acts under a starless sky in cities long dead. A language that hadn’t been heard in Galendar since the fall of the titan echoed in her mind and it snapped her magic sight like a twig. Leaving Akime staring at a stone wall.

She took a sharp breath and rubbed her eyes. Well then. That was some trophy Shard had there. Surely something that shouldn’t exist. Yet it was reading a book? Bizarre. Just like Shard himself and what little she had seen from his crew years ago. Apparently bizarre was the norm in this tower.

“I can’t figure you out, Shard.” She admitted, giving up on trying to restore her magic sight and looking him in the eye. “You, or your friends or this tower. What’s your agenda? What are you really planning? Why have this huge tower that can host an army? Why keep this thing here? And especially what the hell do you need me for? You’re showing me different faces every five minutes and I don’t even know which one to believe.”

The explosion of laughter was completely genuine. “I’m not keeping that thing here. That is my oldest friend and mentor. Believe it or not Galendar has corrupted him to some degree or another. He’s cut off from his god and has learned to adapt. Although, for the record, I couldn’t keep him here if I tried. I have only one agenda and it is to provide a home for the lost. You wouldn’t understand the other reason for the tower. I barely understand it myself. I keep hoping that if I build it one day I’ll find what I’m looking for. Until then it will be a harbor in the storm for others. As for my faces; you simply think that I am a bad person because I extorted you. I extorted you because I could and because it forwarded this.” He gestured “It’s as simple as that. I’m not good or evil. I just am. The same way a storm just is, it doesn’t knock over trees out of spite, it doesn’t water fields because it wants to help. A storm is a storm. Simple as that, devoid of morality. I certainly may have views on what is right and wrong but they are slim and specific. I did what I had to do to fulfill a purpose.”

A soft chuckle rose from Akime’s throat. “Fair enough. I see your point. I think in that regard we might be more alike than I thought. However I still don’t understand what makes you think I’m one of your “lost ones”. And I’m not ready to settle down yet.” She ran a hand along her hair, quickly imagining the possible repercussions of moving into this place. It would probably be risky and definitely never dull. “As I said before, I can’t offer you my services as a follower. But I think I could be your friend.” She smiled genuinely for the first time, finally admitting defeat. Amber would probably take a while to persuade but she was sure she would understand in time.

Christian smiled and nodded. “Whenever you’re ready. And the knights, mistresses and masters are always free to come and go as they please. I’d never dare hold someone here that didn’t want to be.” Turning to face her he smiled again. “Well then until we meet again.”



Akime was flicking through the books littering a makeshift desk in the Tower of Stars’ library. It was quite evident that this wouldn’t be a permanent fixture, if only by virtue of style - a simple plastic garden table with beaten up edges and a scratched surface. Given how nothing else in the library seemed as rustic, she assumed the desks would be the last item to be delivered, a finishing touch, except perhaps for a few paintings. The good thing was that there was a matching chair to the table and enough books to keep her busy for a while.

The ones scattered over the table were an interesting collection of interior designs, colour schemes, architecture and a catalogue of carpets. Akime smirked as the latter released a little leaflet of a shop all the way in Aria that had evidently been used for a bookmark.

Last time she saw Christian, Akime had caught a glimpse of another side of him she didn’t suspect existed. Her own fault, admittedly, for being so quick to judge.. but hey, war did that to people. It boiled everyone down to “friend” and “foe”. Though he’d officially been playing on both sides, Akime had felt the need to put him in a definitive category and Amber’s death by his hand had made the decision for her. Now that things were returning to normal, so was her natural curiosity increasing in regards to the man. And meeting his beloved by chance had put everything in a completely new, and very interesting perspective.

Closing the book and looking at her watch, Akime realised she’d overlooked one simple fact. The books on the table might not even be his and only the Gods knew how often he was coming to his library anyway. The idea for a dramatic entrance suddenly seemed silly, given how she could be sitting around for ages and he wouldn’t even notice. Smirking, Akime extended her senses and “looked” around for Christian.

While the Tower had made increasing progress towards the Heavens it’s upper rooms and the inner workings of the Forge were still under construction. After the outer Armory and reliquaries were completed the construction had simply continued to climb leaving the core of the Tower hollow until such time as Shard could secure the pieces he needed for a legend forge.

Perched on the top of the construction Shard sat staring up at the stars his legs dangling from the edge of the tower. The construction was almost finished. Barracks had been added, workshops, the library and archive were finished. After they were finished with this floor they could implement the Towers docks for airships. Everything was progressing as planned.

Christian kicked his feet a little as he sat staring up at the sky. His left hand absently cutting the deck of storms in an endless repetition of dropping half the deck into his palm and pushing the other half up and over it. No rain tonight, he wanted to be able to see the sky for once.

A few levels down and all around at the same time, the feet, hands and faces of the people occupying the Tower started emerging in front of Akime, most of them strong-built men, most of them asleep in the dead of night. There was a man, half-obstructed by a door swaying in the draft, and there was one talking to his wife with a smile on his face. Some had gathered ‘round a table down below, playing cards and taking swigs, and others were tossing and turning, unable to sleep. As Akime’s magic filled the tower it was accompanied with the faint sweet scent of araliya petals and a touch of frost that touched each face before drifting away with the currents.

Details filled in the picture she was seeing, each face and body becoming a person different from all others. This one had huge feet, that one had dirt under his nails and a splinter in his ring finger. And there, above them all, fittingly sat Christian Highfell. The master of the tower, all alone with his longing and his lament.

And when the mountain doesn’t come to you, you should go to the mountain. she thought, picking herself up from the table and making her way to the top with soundless steps.

As Akime walked a shadow on the moon passed over her. It felt like a wet oily rag being dragged across her spine. Whispers of madness resounded in the hallway for a brief moment that seemed to stretch on into an eternity. And then it was gone. Like the shadow of a predator moving past. Seeking different prey. The alien feeling lingering in the air. The whispers echoing away down a staircase which lead back down towards the ground of the tower. The gods only knowing what might be Beneath the Tower. So preoccupied was everyone with how high it was being built.

She stopped for a second to look around the empty space and make sure the creature had lost interest in her. Nodding to herself in reassurance she looked up the stairs again and proceeded, keeping her senses well away from the base of the Tower. Knowing that you share a bed with a monster doesn’t make the monster any less dangerous. Yet despite the chill it had sent down her spine, her heart and breath remained stable. There were few things on this planet that could scare her and it wasn’t really a matter of bravery. It was the simple knowledge that when the time comes, you’ll either survive or you won’t, and there’s little you can change about that by worrying. A concept Ibuki clearly disagreed with. But if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that whatever this thing was, it was well out of her league.

Her heel hit the final step and she emerged behind Christian, his back now in front of her real eyes and not the hundred tiny flames. It felt a little odd to be sharing this moment with him, a moment that seemed way too intimate... but alas, the mountain hadn’t moved.

“Am I interrupting?” She asked, her voice softer and more melodic than he’d ever heard before.

“No. Just thinking. I’ve had way too much time for that lately.” He turned to face her, crossing his legs on the stone he was sitting on top of. “What brings you back? And at such an odd hour too.” The dragon hadn’t changed. It was as though time left no marks on his features. His eyes were still the storm cloud grey with the hint of bronze lingering behind them and his body showed no sign of deterioration. “I assume you haven’t stopped by to just say hi.”

“How ridiculous would that be?” She gave a small smile and lifted a hand to show the carrier bag. “I’ve been waiting for you to discover me for the past hour or so. I was in your library. Did you not notice?” Physically nothing but her hair had changed, now longer and sun-kissed to a light wheat-colour. But when it came to her aura one could say she was almost a completely different person. There was something soft about her now, the edge of hostility gone, or just very well hidden.

Shard shook his head. “No, people come and go within the Tower after sundown at their own risk. I rarely pay attention after the day is done. Best not to know.” He raised an eyebrow at the bag. “What’s that? And sorry to keep you waiting. Next time send ahead that you will be coming and I’ll be waiting and we can talk somewhere less..” He gestured. “Out of the way.”

Akime’s smile widened a bit as she approached. She reached into the bag to produce a bottle of vodka and a jar of pickles. “Many people use consumption as a way of bonding with others – some use pipes, other – alcohol. This is the finest vodka I could find, it comes all the way from the Syren Docks on Nerassya. I heard the night was going to be cold.” She shrugged.

Christian laughed as hard at that. “Alright that sounds good to me.” He slid over a little bit so she could sit. “So what have you been up to lately? You seem different.” He took the pickle jar from her and opened it setting it down between the two of them. “And to follow that one up, this seems awful friendly of you. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

The woman took out two glasses and poured some vodka before sitting next to him, back leaning against the frame. “And you don’t think you seem friendlier? Extorting someone is a bad start. Then again, bargaining for a person’s soul is an unpleasant setting as is. ” She took a long sip, looking at Christian over the rim. It was remarkable how different he seemed, considering he hadn't aged a year since she last saw him some hundred years ago. Setting the glass down, she answered. “I’ve been travelling. Meeting new people, seeing new worlds almost. I suppose you could say it’s brightened my horizons. Surprisingly there’s so much more to life than war and picking sides. I suppose that comes as no surprise to you.” A chuckle took over her and she almost snorted the alcohol out. “ “Awful friendly”. I like that. Seems like I’ve left a great first impression as well. As for the offer… you could say I’m seriously considering it.”

Christian nodded. “Yeah, things were way different back then. I had to find a way to build this place. And I didn’t pass up any opportunity for money. The sad thing is I’m still collecting some of the debts to this day.” Frowning Christian slugged the alcohol and sat back. “I spent a lot of time running around after the war. Lots of things to find in Galendar. Lots of...people..to collect.” Taking one of the pickles he engulfed it in a single bite. “Spent time in Kevin’s Watch, Daggerfall, Shadowmarch and Theordar. I actually got the idea for the Tower while I was helping reconstruct Westhaven. Felt bad after the war. The empire put the place to the torch twice and I helped both times. And I loved Westhaven so it was always a shame…” He trailed off at that; his mind wandering the rolling hills of grass and orchards. “Course now I’m here in Angel’s Landing again. I can never seem to shake this cursed place. I always make my way back here for one reason or another so I figured it was best to set down roots right here.”

The heart yearns for home, no matter who you are or what home might look like. Akime thought with a small melancholic smile. She knew the feeling well. She also knew what regret meant, the looking back on past actions and cringing with disgust. And while rebuilding a town didn’t mean erasing your mistakes, she couldn’t blame Christian for trying.

Refilling his glass he looked at her. “What made you consider the offer? Last time you still seemed pissed as all hell and dead set against it.”

“How do I put this…” She started thoughtfully, reaching for a pickle and taking a small bite off it. “I was never actually angry at the offer you made me for Isabelle’s soul. To me a soul is priceless, especially that of a friend, and I was ready to give you even more had you asked for it. Getting the gold was hard but I could have chosen the easy way out, asked someone for help and given Isabelle her freedom back when she was resurrected. Instead I was selfish, perhaps even more so than you. I didn’t want to let her go down the same path of battle and misery I'd been walking for so long. You see, compared to me, she’s but a child. Idealistic, naïve, determined. I suppose you could say she reminded me of myself and I could see my own mistakes reflected in her actions. I wanted to show her an alternative. The entire spectrum of the world, if you will. By the end of the war I’d realised war, despite being the focus of my entire life thus far, was not my calling. I still don’t know what is… but I remember your words. You called this a “beacon for the lost”. I don’t think I’m lost, but it can still be my beacon as well, if you’d allow it to.” She smiled to herself. Finally openly asking for a home. She’d come a long way since those proud and bitter days.

Christian smiled at that . “It’s also a home to those who have no other so I think you will fit right in here. Which is why I offered.” Drinking the second glass he stared off into the distance for a while. “I’m sorry about your friend. Unfortunately it is not in my nature to regret killing. It's simply not a part of what I am to regret the deaths of mortals. If I did I would lement a generation and more.” Another pickle followed before he refilled his glass again. “It used to be that my kind served as mercenaries to grow our vast hordes, attract mates, have children, and die when someone decided they wanted our treasure more than we did. Now, I’m a member of an endangered species and I’m not even really a member. Just sort of an oddity. So I figured that if I was going to make a home for myself I might as well make it a home for others too.”

Akime smiled, appreciating the honesty and decadent to return the gesture. “I’m sorry I reacted badly the first time you offered. I was foolish and scared back then. Scared of being used, scared of being trapped, way too proud for my own good. I saw this as a cage and you as a collector of the interesting and unusual. I’m past that fear now. My freedom is mine to command and it will stay that way until I decide to give it away. It might not be true for other fae, but it’s true for me and that’s all I need to know. Now I’m ready to give you a piece of that if you still need it. A late offer, I know, but an offer none the less.” She smiled, looking up to him with twinkling eyes.

The Dragon nodded slowly. “The Tower isn’t a prison for the interesting and unusual. It's a home for all of us who are beyond what normal people appreciate. Urthar Markov isn’t here because I’ve decided I want to add a piece of the void to my collection he is here because he has nowhere else to go.” Christian shrugged. “So for you this can easily be home.”

Akime nodded with a smile and had to look away. Her cheeks were turning pink and it had nothing to do with the cold or the alcohol. It’d been ages since she had a place to call home. And to his credit, Christian was more benevolent than she’d have been in his stead. He’d either changed a lot or she’d just completely misjudged him. Well, it was evidently the latter. “There’s also something else that influenced my decision. Someone else.” She admitted, taking a long sip of the vodka and watching his face carefully over the rim. “I’ve met Raven.”

The air around the pair became suddenly charged with the feeling of an impending storm as the clouds in Christian’s eyes seemed to clear leaving them a crystalline bronze. “You met who?” The question was clearly redundant but it implied another question fully in its place. The unspoken Where and How. Staying with his gaze fixed on her he waited for the answer.

Oops.

“Well. It was pure coincidence.” She said with a small sigh. She hadn’t spent a long time with Raven but it was quite enough for her to recognise the traces of Christian’s soul she was carrying deep in her heart. It had come as quite a surprise and it had definitively convinced Akime that the man could be trusted. It had explained this tower that was always reaching for the stars. It was hard to imagine what it must feel like to know that the one thing that constitutes your happiness is out there and you’re the only one prevented from obtaining it. Her love for her country allowed her to relate but she had a feeling his longing is even deeper. “You’ll be happy to know she’s alive and well. And she hasn’t forgotten you.”

Christian stood up and walked towards the edge of the tower standing with his feet balanced on the very edge. The sky grew darker as storm clouds rolled in slowly. Thunder rumbling in the distance. “Where did you find her?” The Lord of Storms made no turn towards Akime as he said it. Dry lightning illuminated his figure as he stood silhouetted against the coming storm. The very air swirled with ozone and the dragon’s emotions as they poured off him in staggering waves.

Deciding it was best to answer simply and quickly, Akime said it was off the coast of Natasea where Raven gave her a lift to Pearl Island. They had been caught by a storm that veered the ship off course and prolonged their journey with three days. Eventually Akime had given up on the island as by the time they’d reach the moon would have grown and harvesting a magical pearl would have been impossible. So instead of admitting the whole trip was in vain, Akime had decided to join Raven to her desired destination of Fourthwind and ended up being part of the crew for about a month.

Akime didn't tell Christian all that, cutting the story to the failed voyage to find an Abyss pearl. Not because she didn't want to tell him, but out of respect for Raven. The women hadn't talked much about Christian and Akime hadn't pried until she saw how deeply rooted the traces of him were in Raven’s soul. Then she asked and despite hearing the answer, she still didn't completely understand. Maybe she never would. But ultimately, whatever was going on between them wasn't her business. Still, looking at Christian’s back she couldn't help but think the distance between them was causing both equal amounts of pain.

She set her glass down with a soft cling and wrapped her arms around her as protection against the rising wind.

“I can't tell you more about her endeavours as I don't know much to begin with. But one thing I can do well and that is finding people. I can seek her out again and deliver a message if you like.” She spared him the fact that she couldn't make Raven respond and wouldn’t even try to.

Christian looked at her for a long moment. “Tell her to come home”. Christian finally let go of the storm he’d been pulling together above the tower. With that Christian sat back down on the stone work and let his feet dangle again before he went back to staring up at the stars.

Realising he’s lost to her words once again but having said everything she wanted anyway, Akime finished her drink and quietly departed.

Ludelle had calmed down somewhat but her mood was still far from perfect. Now that she was feeling better physically she found a thousand things to be annoyed at, from the white décor to the lack of computer anywhere around to her own matted hair. Yet she wasn’t allowed to leave because some magical tonic or whatever had been hooked up to her arm and was dripping away as if she had all the time in the world. Luckily she really did feel tired and didn’t want to move just yet. She’d found a calendar and confirmed it’s been over a week of her life that had been stolen. A week and three days. Plenty. Too much.

As more people entered the room the stormy clouds over her head seemed to thicken, especially at the sight of her ex-friend and the I’m-gonna-touch-you-fucker. At first Ludelle glared at the small group, pretending she could blend in with the wall. Then, when Sirius sensed the venom in her stare and beat a hasty retreat (with a shiny smile, of course), curiosity got the best of her and she questioned Marielle’s condition.

“What’s up with her?” Her eyes lashed at Adéla, and so did the next comment. “She one of your next freak experiments?”

Adéla was taken aback by the venom in Ludelle’s words. “What? No! Why are you…?” She trailed off, “Oh.” Sighing, she moved Marielle onto a bed of her own, “No. She decided to pick a fight with someone a hell of alot stronger than her. Things happened as might’ve been expected. I’m bringing her here so she…” she trailed off again, gesturing towards the red haired woman, “can fix her up again. And keeping an eye on this guy.” Poking Sirius painfully hard in the chest, she moved to a position between the two beds and glared balefully at him.

There was the sound of a door closing and then footsteps. Then the redhead appeared, her expression soft as she wandered to Marielle. Her eyes glanced over at Ludelle and she grinned wryly. “Sorry for the interruption. Mind having some company for a little while?” She paused, eyeing the woman. “Can I get you anything?”

“A bullet.” Ludelle’s eyes detached from Sirius for just a moment. “To put in between his eyes.”

Adéla slipped the pistol off her belt, holding the handle out to Ludelle, “Be my guest.”

“Woah, okay, I think I’ve experienced enough hostility for one day.” Sirius smiled, waving his hands up and backing off to the door. The redhaired pirate was intriguing. Her features were soft and her attitude likewise. She seemed innocent and cute… just the type to be corrupted. But of course, he’d never lay a hand on someone like her. He departed with a nod, reassuring the newcomer (as the only one willing to listen) that if she needed him she could just shout.

The young girl looked back and forth at the bickering two until she watched Sirius’s silhouette leave the room.

Ludelle stared at her feet for a moment, then looked at Adéla and the new girl in turn. “What am I doing here? Calder said this was the “Tower of Stars” but… what am I doing here? What do you want with me? Am I a hostage? Or have the Blade reached this place too already?”

The redhead smiled. “For whatever reason Shard and Miss Marrowblade have chosen you to be a part of this place. You are not a hostage, but a member of this large…” She paused, looking for the right word until warmth settled in her heart. “...Family. Yes, family is the word.” With that she looked at Marielle. “Everyone has a place here,” She stroked strands of the magician’s hair out of her face. “Even if...they feel lost.” Strangely, the girl started to hum. Normally it would feel out of place conversation, but the notes somehow snugly fit in the somewhat quiet room. Little did they know of what her humming does in Blackwing’s infirmary.

Ludelle wasn’t quite sure what the weird girl was on about and her thoughts got even more scrambled as she started humming. Her words and her song were surely supposed to be calming but after the whole ordeal with the prison her body was still resisting it. Resisting everything really, evidently the whole world was against her recently, the entire guild, the fucker in the prison, and that little traitor… The girl’s eyes stabbed at Adéla again before looking away. They had some scores to settle. But first, she needed to regain her bearings. Get out of this stupid white room, wash the dirt off her face and hair, and most of all – get back online. If only she could get her hands on some sort of tech, she’d surely feel better instantly.

She looked around the infirmary again, searching. Nothing useful. She sighed. Out of everything the redhead had said, only one name rung a bell: Shard. And he was definitely not part of the Stygian Blade. Not anymore anyway. “A family huh? So no obligations and orders?” She scoffed at the girl. “And I’m just free to leave?”

Adéla shrugged, “Well, yes. You could walk right out the door right now if you wanted.”

The strange girl stopped her humming and turned back towards Ludelle. “Families have obligations, but only if its members are willing to accept them.” A slightly melancholy look crossed her features as she eyed Ludelle. She leaned over her and smiled. “My name’s Iris.” with that she caressed her cheek and exhaled. Suddenly all of Ludelle’s physical pain was gone, as if it evaporated into the thin air. Iris glanced over at Adéla and smiled as she stood up straight and wandered towards the door. She began to hum again, but the noise seemed to transmogrify into words that slipped inside Adéla’s mind.

I can see promise in you. Take care of your friends, they’ll need you.

With that she left the room, and if they looked back at the magician, they’d see her skin and flesh were completely clean of impurities, as if she hadn’t fought at all.
Adéla murmured under her breath after Iris left the room. “Great promise… is that what she sees?” She had to fight the urge to chuckle darkly, whatever promise the girl saw in her, it almost assuredly wasn’t the kind most people here would be amenable to.

She glanced over at Ludelle, noting how she continued to either ignore her or shoot venomous looks. The room suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on her, and she swallowed the urge to run as fast as she could, instead bowing out as politely as she could. “I’ve got to go for now too. If anyone needs anything, please call.”

Ludelle frowned at the door for a few heartbeats after she’d find herself alone again. The scenery had changed but somehow the darkness that had engulfed her for so long was still sticking to the inside of her heart. “Family”, they said. “Here for you” they said. Lies. Shameless deception. How could they all talk so easily about things they didn’t understand? Heal the wounds and no scars would remain?

Deception! How dare they all pretend that her world hadn’t crumbled to pieces, that being betrayed by her best friend and by the love of her life was something a few gentle hums could cure?!

Now that the pain and fatigue had all gone, her rage exploded and lit her nerves on fire. Her eyes scanned the room frantically and, spotting Marielle, the sudden urge overcame her to bash the girl’s face black and blue as it had been. No amount of magic could cure the heart’s ache and her heart was screaming in agony.

In the last moment she managed to steer her fist away from the unconscious girl and into the bed next to her. The frame gave a shrill wail as her fist impacted it with enough force to make the metal legs shudder and bend. Her arm came up again, and then down. On the third hit the bed collapsed and crashed on the ground.

Then Ludelle moved to the wall and started pounding it, sending dust and plaster flying. Her voice counted the hits with a grumble that gradually turned into a wail while the dent grew. At last her skin broke and her blood smeared the wall as she collapsed in a heap and cried her eyes out.

Akime strolled, or rather, marched, into the library and crashed heavily into a sofa with a sigh. Luckily the horrible furniture from the Tower's early days was long gone, else it might have collapsed under the sheer force of the impact. She threw her legs on a coffee table and paused, suddenly apprehensive. Her boots were still muddy from the trip and she hadn't even brushed her hair. Her brow twitched as a piece of soil slipped from the leather to a book.

“Well.” She resigned with a sigh, throwing her head back. She'd looked worse.

Day two of his stay at the tower and it was still a drag. Lazarus pushed the door to the library open and strode into it. Muddy footprints marked a pathway through the middle of the room. “What the..?” Lazarus tracked the trail through the library until he came upon the couch. “You know Senechal isn’t a huge fan of cleaning up after people.” It suddenly dawned on him that this person was quite powerful as he touched on her aura. “Oh, my bad you must be one of the Mistresses.”

Akime turned to look over her shoulder, her hair slipping from behind her back to spill over the back of the chair. Spotting him, a grin blossomed on her face. “I must be, yeah, though I sometimes forget.” Of course, for the Mistress of Sight there were few coincidences and this wasn’t one of them. “I’ve been expecting you. I’m sorry I didn’t request a formal audience; I was a bit busy and didn’t have the time to research on the channels of attaining one.” She turned, leaning an arm on the chair’s back and resting her chin there. “Don’t worry about the mud, it’ll either magically disappear or… disappear in a non-magical way later on.”

“Im sure that Senchal will appreciate that..” Lazarus looked at her for a long moment. “Do I know you from somewhere and why do you want to meet me?” Lazarus wandered over and sat down across from the strange woman all but passed out on the Library couch. “Why does it look like a ferocious animal dragged you through half of the Shadowmarch and back.” Leaning back Lazarus set his swords up against the side of the couch.

Akime giggled. “Because that’s almost exactly what happened.” As the crinkles around her eyes smoothed away and her eyes fixed on him again, she explored his features, wondering why he didn’t remember her. Then again, he’d probably had a fair share of soul trades in his life. “We’ve met before, a few ages ago.” Her eyes ran down his swords, the desire to reach out and explore them sparkling deep in her eyes before being hidden hastily. “I got curious when I sensed your presence here again, I joined the Knights much later than you but in all those years I haven’t seen you around..” She saw no recognition in his eyes so she trailed off and gave him a hint. “You did me a favour before, at the end of the second Stygian war. You smuggled a soul for me, or perhaps you were just doing as Shard instructed. Do you remember now?”

Revelation appeared in Lazarus eyes as it dawned on him who exactly was sitting on the couch. His body tensed for a second but if she meant him any sort of ill will it would have come out while he had no clue who she was. “Why in the world did you join the knights?” The question was strong and on the brink of outrage as he stared at her not comprehending what in the world was going on. It might have been a long time since he left Shard and a long time since he’d been imprisoned but this was something he’d never in his life expected to return to. Hazumi sitting on the couch in the Library of the Tower of stars. Lazarus blinked several times taking it all in. “The reason you haven't seen me is because I’m not a Knight, I stopped being Lazarus Master of Words years ago. Besides, it seems like he’s found himself a new and improved Master of Words and a Mistress of Sight to go along with that too. Lazarus frowned. “Why in the world are you here given how Shard treated you?” Peering into her face he searched for some sort of clue as to the answer.

His snappy tone startled her and reminded her that she was being a bit careless. Again, she was assuming too quickly that people she didn’t know well were friends on foes purely based on their affiliation. Her forward way of communication didn’t always go down well, which is why she appreciated having Ibuki around to reign her in when necessary. “How do you know how he treated me? Furthermore, why would it outrage you, he was more than fair given the circumstances.” She put her feet down and leaned forwards, resting her arms on her knees in an overall very manly stance and stared into his face. “You were a Master of Words? Wait, did he use those titles even back in those days? Goodness, talk about ambition!” She paused again, running her eyes up and down his frame. He’d changed, and for the better, she thought. At least looks-wise. “So you’re not Lazarus anymore? And why are you here?” She cut to the chase. A small spark appeared in her eyes that could be interpreted as intrigue or maybe as hostility.

“It was my job to know what Shard did. Yishreenok made a deal with Shard and I was part of it but it went both ways. I saw everything that happened in that room.” He frowned “and yes he did use the titles back in those days. I think they meant more when technology wasn't as present, but then again the titles meaning has probably changed with the times.” She was different, her eyes didn't gleam with war like they used to and she wasn't wearing the armor or any sort of weapon. “I most certainly am Lazarus, if anything I'm more so than ever.” What had changed her she seemed so different than the first time. “As to why I'm here it’s because Shard broke me out of the Twilight Prison.” He offered no more that that as an explanation.

She scoffed gently. He was speaking in riddles. How could someone be more themselves than ever? And what the hell had he done to end up in the Twilight prison? But most importantly…

“Do I need to worry about you? You said it yourself, you’ve been replaced. This is my territory now and I’ll protect it if I have to.” Okay, maybe she hadn’t changed all that much. This was clearly a provocation.

Lazarus gave her a long look “Please. There is only room for one Avatar in the Knight’s Hierarchy, you are welcome to be part of it.” Lazarus sat back smugly, it was clear he wasn’t under any illusions about his current place. It was very apparent that Lazarus was a guest. It was only a question of how long he stayed.

Akime smiled at his smug look. Being dismissive about someone’s threat was a nice way of making them feel embarrassed and she liked the ease with which he’d switch the tables. Her threat had been half-hearted to begin with, but the grin that ensued was genuine. “Great!” She clasped her hands together. “Now that we have that cleared up, only two questions remain: do you want to be friends and do you care to join me for brunch?!”

The startled look was apparent as Lazarus eyed her suspiciously. “Is this some sort of test? Because the answer is probably yes and yes so long as you promise to not try and kill me.” He waited, she was far stranger than he had thought the first time they had met some many years ago and yet she was oddly appealing. Most people simply scurried and hid when the mortal conduit of Yishreenok’s power wandered by yet here she was.

On her part, Akime found his calm and slightly suspicious demeanour oddly endearing. He reminded her of a cat, one that took it’s time to let people touch it, and that made him twice as interesting. “I don’t think I can kill you unless you let me.” She considered for a moment before continuing. “But I don’t think I have a reason to try. We started off on a good foot and I’ll never forget you helping me out that time. I would have gotten Amber’s soul one way or another but your generosity was more than I was hoping for. Besides, you didn’t get anything out of it, so if anything, I’m indebted to you. I’m not saying we’re gonna be best friends but at least I can treat you to a meal, right?” She smiled brightly, getting up and extending a hand to help him up.

Lazarus extended his hand and then hesitated. “Maybe I’d better not.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I don’t mean that as an offense but I’m not sure how much Yishreenok pays attention to me of late but unlike Shard I took my mantle as a service not as a birthright so IT can see through my eyes and I’m not sure touching you is a great plan. Since it might alert the Grand Lich.” Lazarus gave her a rueful half smile and stood up. It was really just paranoia, he was pretty sure that such a thing wouldn’t get Yishreenok’s attention but it was better safe than sorry. “Alright where are we going?” Picking up his sword he buckled them back onto his belt as he said it.

“Ugh.” Akime grimaced. “Must be unpleasant, sharing your eyesight with someone else. Then again…” She chuckled. “It might be a good way of punishing him, by staring at a dull picture of flowers and sunshine all day long.” She felt curious suddenly to ask what the god is like in Lazarus’ eyes and what their relationship is, and why Lazarus was imprisoned for so long but… later. All in due time. Patience, Cole always said. Then again, he was the one to talk….

Akime shook her head, returning to the here and now. “Unless your tastes now swing to raw hearts and baby hands, I recommend the ‘Lazy lamb’ in town. It’s not too far away and they make excellent fusion cuisine… have you ever tried fusion cuisine? It’s an overblown way of saying “mixing things from different places” and it works quite well in my opinion.”

Nodding Lazarus smiled “I can’t say I ever have and I’ll let you make the calls, my knowledge of Angel’s Landing is a little outdated to be honest.” Walking down the hallway Lazarus called the elevator and held it for Akime. Gesturing for her to enter before him. “You’ll have to be patient with me, it's been a while”

“I get that.” She smiled as she entered the elevator with a fleeting shadow of compassion in her gaze.

The trip to the restaurant was an interesting one in itself. The cityscape had changed in the past hundred years, the segregation in the society becoming more evident like a badly infected wound. The taxi hovered around the middle of the buildings that have become taller and more luxurious but at the same time its foundations had become hollower and darker than ever. Of course, this taxi was created with this in mind, the usual tempered glass floor that allowed passengers to feel like they’re floating, was replaced by a simple non-transparent polycarbonate one. Still, looking down from the windows, one could see that slums had become even darker and more rotten than before. In contrast, the middle section of many of the buildings was open to the street, revealing cafes, restaurants and shops lined up by terraces and walkways lined with flowers and trees.
Yet one thing united them. Here and there one could spot the holes in the skyscrapers with no obvious pattern. Many of them were small, but some were bigger.

“The Stygian Blade have been active. This has allowed more petty criminals to execute their own Justice as well while the police are too busy trying to deal with the bigger issues. Some even openly assassinate people on the street or in closed-door venues. Where we’re going is safe though. There was an assassination attempt a month ago so it’s unlikely they’ll come back.” The driver glanced over his shoulder but didn’t say anything. Something about the man in the back seat was giving him the chills so he’d rather not prolong their trip.

The restaurant was named that for a reason. It wasn’t entirely what Lazarus had expected… whatever that was. There wasn’t a grand sign lading to it, no advertisements aside from the logo above the door saying Laz Sheep since one of the antique plastic letters had been smashed. Unlike most places in the city centre, Freeman street was populated by more shy establishments. They hid their faces and guests behind turning doors and their windows were tinted to prevent anyone from looking in. A worn-out menu tried to draw customers in, but the job was better done by a pretty girl wearing a lamb-like hat and beckoning people in by offering small samples. Inside, the modest exterior suddenly exploded in a splash of vivid colours. Two oversized cardboard cacti stood at the entrance. One had lost one of its “arms” and then regained it with the help of some duct tape. A banjo was conversing with a shamisen on one of the walls, next to it were two crossed guns from two separate continents. A big mosaic on the wall to the right depicted the union of gods and magic schools, surrounded by pictures of an ethnic family, the occasional celebrity spicing things up. Tables were scattered around the space with no seeming logic behind them, many chairs at odds with their neighbours. Boots lined up the walls, the old tables illuminated by fishtanks that played the role of walls, or sculpted bushes with intricate patterns cut into them. The whole place was surprisingly bright, illuminated by different coloured lights that made patches of colour dance around the tiles on the floor… and it was surprisingly empty. Only one table was occupied by a young couple who spared them no more than a glance as they entered.Or maybe it was unsurprising, given the restaurant’s recent history and over-the-top decor.

The hostess, however, was right at their side, smiling brightly and clasping her hands. She was old and half the size of Akime but her voice was loud and cheerful. “Table for two? Would you like a bush or a tank table?”

Akime looked at Lazarus. “You can pick. There’s an upstairs too.”

“Upstairs if you please.” Lazarus gave Akime another sheepish smile. “If I stay too long it might drive out any kind of business on the floor.” With that he gestured for the hostess to lead the way. “As for the table of choice I have no preference as I have no idea what either are.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” Akime commented. “And she simply means you can choose if you want to sit between two dishes or two fishtanks. They always presume you want a booth if they have one free.” Akime explained as they followed the hostess upstairs. The old woman told them to take their time deciding, handed them two thick menus (one green and one orange one) and hurried downstairs. The upstairs was more modest, the only decorations here being the booth-walls and the occasional lucky bamboo or palm tree.

And, of course, the centrepiece. In the middle of the room there were five life-size sheep-models. They were in various stages of jumping over a fence, with the last one laying on the grass, curled up like a cat. The sheep weren’t even very realistic, obviously representing the vision of a sculptor who hadn’t seen one up-close, but the set-up couldn’t have been sheep if only by virtue of the fact that three of them were floating above the ground. Even more unsettlingly, the one that was asleep had its chest rising and falling evenly. Sand covered most of the second floor, and it was deep enough to bury one’s feet in. It felt pleasantly warm to the touch. A long bar lined the façade-wall, which must have once been covered by window-planes but now was mostly concealed by rustling plastic sheets.

“This is where the shooting happened. You might be able to feel some of the blood that soaked in the sand but I can fix that if it bothers you?”

Lazarus shook his head as he took in the whole scene. It was fascinating to see how things had changed in his absence. The towns surrounding Angel’s Landing were nowhere near so metropolitan as this was. Infact some of the towns in Korvan and the southern provinces were actually closer to medieval in comparison to the tech of Angel’s landing. Lazarus scanned the menu without really looking. Recognizing next to nothing on the menu, he suspected it was because he recognized some of the cuisine from other places but it was becoming clear what Akime had meant by fusion. “I think I’ll have to go with whatever you go with since this is an entirely new experience for me.” Squinting at the plastic sheets he let his eyes cloud with quicksilver for a moment. Before he returned to the present. It was amazing what people would kill over. Infact, it was amazing how people really were so callous about killing.

Turning to Akime, Lazarus began to study her. She hadn’t exactly aged since the last time he’d met her but it was clear she had changed. “You never resurrected them did you?” The question just sort of slipped out. He could see the ghost marks around her. After saying it he averted his gaze, it was still new for him going back to interacting with semi normal people.

Shock painted her features at his question. She stared at him in disbelief for a few long moments before uttering a fragile “...what…?”

“Your..” He didn’t finish the sentence. “You have, Ghost marks. It’s what happens to the living when the dead linger around them. I’m sorry I can’t help but notice things like that, I didn’t mean to pry or anything but I just noticed cause I was taking a look at the whole shooting thing and...yeah…” He lapsed into silence. All too clear that he was well out of practice with talking to other people.

Akime stared at him for a few more seconds. Then she looked down, suddenly looking incredibly vulnerable. The world was spinning all of a sudden, past and present blending together in a dazzling fury of light and memories. She didn’t want to hide… but this was something she didn’t want to talk about. The dilemma twisted her stomach and suddenly she lost all her appetite.

“I…” She started but felt the words grating painfully against her throat. “..’scuse me.” She stood and hid in the restroom.

Lazarus stared at the table top for a long moment. “Fuck…” The waitress didn’t approach as she saw the brooding look on his face and turned tail, fleeing back down the stairs.

Akime’s breaths came shallow and ragged and when she looked at herself in the mirror she realised she was almost blending in with the tiles behind her. She exhaled deeply, running a hand through her hair and resting her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.

Are you okay? Ibuki’s worried voice sounded in her head. Yeah. She tried to sound convincing. One amber eye was staring back at her in the mirror. They said eyes are the only thing that doesn’t change from the time you’re an infant. But surely that was the only thing that hadn’t changed, right? She heaved a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter, did it? He wasn’t the first to find out… But… she still felt violated and exposed. But then… since he’d already seen, there was no point in running anymore, was there? Akime took another deep breath, feeling like crying and cursing both.

“None of that. Get a grip and behave like the normal human being you are.” Ibuki’s voice sliced through her thoughts. Akime scoffed. “Human in the broad sense of the word.” There was a smile to his voice.

Then she shut her thoughts and emotions to him and straightened her back. When she went back, a faint smile twitched on her lips. After all, her reaction had been nothing short of hysterical and it was unwarranted… mostly.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized sincerely as she sat back down. “I’m not used to revealing my secrets and regrets on a first date…” She remembered how the first time they met, he saw clear judgment in her eyes and she hadn’t even attempted to hide it. Now that she indirectly felt like he was doing the same, she had to admit he’d taken it better than her.

“That’s okay it wasn’t polite to do what I did I was just taking a peek at something unrelated and I noticed.” Lazarus shrugged. “You may have to call our waiter back i think I scared her away.” Tactfully Lazarus steered the subject away from the outburst. It wasn’t like he really needed to know any of the reasons it was just a curiosity question really.

Best to avoid that at least for now

Something suddenly dawned on Lazarus about the words that had come out of Akime’s mouth. He sat there slack jawed for a moment before he snapped his jaw closed. “We’re…..on a date?” She was probably teasing but it was always best to check. Especially given how many social norms had probably come in and out of fashion in the last hundred years or so.

He scared the waitress away? What, already? And she had a pathetic panic attack caused by a single innocent question? Akime shook her head mentally. They were both such a sorry mess…

Then came the question. Was that a date? Now that brought some blood back to her face. “Em… no… I mean.” An awkward smile and she even managed to meet his eyes for a second. “No offence, it’s just.. force of habit. Despite my best attempts, everyone still remembers my very first nickname so I tend to joke about it. Every time I’m out with a male companion, I call it a date. And sometimes with women too.” A weak chuckle. “If they’re gonna assume they know me, might as well have some fun winding them up.” She finished, burying her toes in the sand.

This seemed to relax Lazarus as it was clear that she had been infact joking about it. “Good to know, I was going to say that might be a bit of a stretch for us right out of the gate like that.” Lazarus picked up the menu giving himself something to do. It had been actual centuries since he’d had anything resembling a date. So probably best not to lead out with something like that. “Sorry about the waitress thing, it's sort of hard to control. You know how Shard does the whole ‘Avatar of Storms’ thing? He doesn’t actually do that on purpose.” Lazarus continued to scan the menu, “It’s a function of the mantle, it reacts to our emotions which is why the whole storm clouds and feeling of death thing happens when you piss us off.”

“Oh really?” She asked, the old curiosity sneaking into her. “I can imagine that has its own drawbacks.” If anything, it must be hard to hide your own emotions when you don’t want them seen. What could make you want to do that to yourself? Akime wasn’t a shy person but she was somewhat secretive when it came to her own feelings and putting them on display sounded odd/ She wanted to ask Lazarus so many things. Why did he choose to become an Avatar of death, what it entailed, why he got imprisoned. All things she couldn’t ask. Finding a safe path along this conversation, littered with traps for both sides to fall in, was going to be a lot trickier than she’d expected. But then again, no effort was ever wasted. “And I always thought Chris, I mean Shard was just showing off.” She stood up. “How about I go order us something to eat after all and then you can tell me how you and Shard met.”

She came back not a minute later with two tall glasses full of a milky-green substance and decorated with mint leaves. Passing one to him, she explained it’s a green-tea milkshake.

Lazarus nodded at that giving her a grateful smile. “It can be a problem yes but it is largely the rest of our emotions remain hidden. It happens for things like anger mostly, sadness, and occasionally surprise. As far as Christian and I go. Well, I killed a Lich by the name of Thomas Pavaine a very long time ago, in the process I gained the attention of Yishreenok. Before that I was an alchemist for the Blackened Throne, the lord of Korvan at the time tasked me with clearing the Black which is a massive forest in Korvan. After I killed him the Avatar of Death appeared to me channeling Yishreenok. As a result I was given the mantle of a necromancer. When Shard came looking for Thomas I had taken the phylactery and was studying it. This was prior to the war when we met; he offered me a job and I took him up on the offer. That was how I met Shard. So...why did you end up at the Tower?” Lazarus folded his hands in front of himself to keep from rubbing them together.

Akime listened, appreciating the small lecture like a rare flower you didn’t expect to find. To suddenly find a question you’ve never asked before and find out the answer straight after was a very satisfying feeling indeed.

“Hmm, so you’ve always been on the front lines, more or less.” She took a sip and wondered what his life had been as a royal alchemist. Would he have had a family, a wife and friends or was he the studious type who had no time to mess about like that? Did he lust for the power he received or did he reluctantly accept it? Was he like the fae, just a speck caught up in the storm of power and influence or was he a master of his own fate. And was Christian looking for powerful artefacts sensing that a war was brewing? Maybe one day she’d ask all that.

“I think it was an interesting string of events how I ended up joining.” She admitted, taking another long sip. “For one, since I was exiled I’d never truly been able to settle anywhere. I dealt with my anger by joining any war or conflict currently plaguing the world and I was at it for almost a thousand years.. Then a very close friend, the one whose soul you gave me, was killed in battle and that changed a lot. She was truly innocent and idealistic and the way she perished without having realised any of her grand plans struck me as an utter waste.Thus when I resurrected her, I forbid her to fight. But… like any teenager she acted out and it took a lot of persistence to convince her there must be other ways of helping people than sowing death…. and to figure them out for myself. Eventually, we promised each other that none of us will kill again unless absolutely necessary and that we wouldn’t join any wars henceforth. So we started travelling. Then we met lady Raven Marrowblade, who turned out to be in love with no other than Shard. She told me quite a bit about him and thus changed my perception of him. He had offered me to join him shortly after I paid-off my debt, you see. When I met him next, I viewed his offer to join the Tower as an offer of shelter and a home and not a cage and leash. Unfortunately Amber still can’t forgive him which is why we can’t take permanent residence there but I keep an eye on it no matter where I am.” She smirked, looking into her beverage. “We’ve all been young and foolish, I suppose. We can only hope that with age and experience we can turn our mistakes into something positive and teach others not to make them.” She looked up to him and scoffed with a shy smile. “And I’m sorry how I treated you the first time we met. I’d like to hope I’m not so prone to killing anyone who looks at me funny anymore. You’re welcome to try.”

The waitress came and brought their breakfast then. It looked like a burger with a thin slice of chicken breast instead of the beef and a thick knot of roasted noodles with broccoli instead of the bread. On top of it all was perched an egg Benedict and some curry-like sauce.

Akime took a bite from her odd burger, pointing the fork to the centerpiece of the room, steering the conversation down a more lighthearted path. “I never got to ask the ice-breaker question. Why do you think this hideous thing is here? Do you think it’s just bad taste or is there more to it?”

“Don’t they call that artwork nowadays?” Lazarus started eating before actually considering the food for a moment “I would also call this artwork with the same condescending tone.” A smile lingered on Lazarus lips at that. “And to be honest I thought you were rather justified with your attitude to be honest.” Lazarus continued to eat at an alarming rate consuming the entirety of the meal in between comments.

This was probably the first time he had anything with taste to it in several hundred years as a result even his comment about it being art was really meant as a conversation piece. She really had changed since the last time, although it was interesting to hear anything about her past. It might be a bit too private of a question but something she said had snagged on his own sense of curiosity. “Wait what do you mean exiled? You’re True Fae, I thought that you would have had your own realm?” Confusion was written across Lazarus face as he continued to think about it. “Actually of all the questions I actually have to ask you I’m most curious as to where you came from before I met you; come to think of it...does Shard even know?”

Lazarus continued to appraise her, as much as he’d have preferred to simply look at her as she was beyond beautiful but now he was searching for something else. Why was Yishreenok after her? At Least in the vaguest sense of the word; since he had yet to receive an order or summons to find her. So much death, was that the real reason that Yishreenok was interested in her? It just seemed so simple of a reason and yet that was the most apparent one for it; what made her different?

“I don’t think they’ve ever called this art in any age or place. My best guess is that the owner won it in a bet or that it was made by his children.” Akime giggled and then eyed him curiously as he literally consumed the whole burger whole. It was reassuring that he seemed to appreciate it despite its oddity. It felt good to know that she could make his re-entering on the social scene at least a bit easier. After all, you could tell that his ordeal had taken a toll on him when you looked at the wrinkle between his brows and the pale complexion of his face. She remembered him smiling the first time they met and had the sudden urge to lure that smile out again. It was there for sure, the smirk and the jesting were just the foreshadowing of it. She wanted to see it.

“Shard probably knows.” She nodded, looking back down to her plate. “At least partially. He knows I didn’t grow up in Galendar and I remember one of his thugs—pardon, mercenaries, calling me the “Bloody one”. That’s why I assumed he’d made my background known to all of you.” She looked at Lazarus again and couldn’t help but smile, thinking back to that day. He’d been the one good thing about it all. “I was born and raised in Hell, in a small state called Zentra. It was conquered by its neighbour Ssakr. After an unsuccessful marriage to the prince and his untimely demise I was banished and haven’t looked back since. That’s another thing that’s made settling pretty hard, aside from the fact that my ill fame escaped Hell with me. But I was normal before that. I didn’t even know what a “true fae” is before I came here as my tutors didn’t deem it essential knowledge. Just being born something doesn’t make you that and if I have my own realm, it’s something I’ve never felt for myself. Maybe one day it will come to me but for now, I’m well and truly stuck in this one.” She grinned. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s not all bad. So… you can decide not to answer if you don’t want to, but how about you? Don’t you miss your own home? The people you left behind?”

Lazarus sat enthralled by her narrative, there were certainly more questions to ask such as why things were unsuccessful with her marriage and why she was banished because of it. Lazarus frowned, it was certainly unusual for a denizen of Hell to leave, but what made it even more unusual was the fact that she was a True Fae. He was highly tempted to ask which of her parents was an Angel, but decided against it. “Don’t have a clue; I’m missing a big chunk of my memories. There is a type of death magic that erases personality. While I was fighting Thomas I got hit by an erasure spell and it wiped everything prior to my time just preceding my journey to the Black. When Christian found me I wasn’t sure why I should return after I’d made a pact with Yishreenok. So I turned my back and never looked back; silly maybe but at the time It was either go through the pain of finding anyone who would have cared about me and trying to explain to them that they mean nothing to me now, or go with the Avatar of Storms and start over. As you can tell I took the second option.”

Lazarus frowned settled in even more as he stared at the mint milkshake. “I know it seems weird; like why wouldn’t I want to know more about anyone I left behind? I’ve just never felt the need to do that.” Why am I telling her this? With a sigh Lazarus sat back in the seat. “Sorry, just because I’m the Avatar of death doesn’t mean I have too be morbid right? After all we are what we choose right?” The ghost of a smile came back as he gave her a look that said he was joking about her being a True Fae and yet clearly not.

Akime gave him a long, serious stare. Then remembered to return the smile. “I suppose in a way it’s better that way. After all, for some things you just have to follow your heart.” Sadness appeared in her eyes as she removed them from him. She remembered how she wanted to discard her own memories and the guilt… she’d even found a few methods but never actually went all the way. She’d chosen to live with her grief… but admittedly, sometimes she regretted it.

“So…” her eyes rose again. “The avatar of death... how did that happen. I mean, are you happy with your life as it is now? What are your hopes for the future?” A thought occurred to her and she couldn’t help but laugh. She leaned over the table, her hair curling on the table in a soft spiral. Dangerously close to the milkshake. “I’m sorry, this is sounding more and more like an interview now. It’s just… for a person who should be my mortal enemy you’re surprisingly likeable. I thought the Avatar of Death would be my complete opposite yet here we are.” She shrugged.

Lazarus snorted at the mortal enemy comment. “Would it make you feel better if I leapt over the table and tried to kill you?” He leaned in to match her lean. Resting his arms on the table and propping his chin in his hand. “It’s a pain honestly, I really don’t DO all that much. Largely I’m free to do whatever the hell I want since typically Yishreenok doesn’t do too much either. Occasionally I have to go kill someone who isn’t a necromancer but has power over life and death.” Lazarus paused and gave her a teasing look. “But then again...You’re kinda pretty so I’ll let it slide.” His face had split into a huge grin at the comment. This was fun and it was about damn time that he had some of that. Between prison and all the wars and one thing after another Galendar hadn’t been good to him for the larger part of his life. Finally he found someone to joke with and yet it was dangerous because what if Yishreenok did decide it wanted Akime to die? Stifling the train of thought he pushed it away. I’m going to cross that bridge if we come to it.

“Shard killed him, the previous Avatar of Death I mean, I inherited the Mantle.” Lazarus waited to see her response to Shard killing yet another person.

Akime felt for him as his job description sounded more boring than it ought to be for someone with such a high and mighty title. Seems like it was more trouble than it was worth, if all it got you was a reason to be imprisoned by the Twilight council and no clear daily duties. Then again, maybe that was the true essence of power. There were those living on the lower steps of life who were prisoners of routine, and those who don’t even fit on the staircase and get to do what they want. Whether they were blessed or cursed to have to create a path for themselves, was a matter of perspective.

The woman laughed at his compliment, her cheeks blushing slightly. Her eyes lit up as he grinned and her lips stretched further. The comment about his attempting to kill her was amusing but void; he wouldn’t be the first to attempt it, nor the last. If anything, it would be interesting to see him try. Perhaps even a bit scary? Looking at his face she couldn’t imagine any interaction that wasn’t enjoyable, though, and god knows where a fight could lead as well?

Just as some indecent thoughts started creeping in, Lazarus changed the topic again. Or had this always been the topic? She smirked, pleased that her connection with Ibuki had been temporarily cut. He didn’t enjoy such thoughts.

“Shard has killed more than we can count, hasn’t he? As a force of nature, it’s only natural I suppose. I can’t hold a personal grudge anymore, I understand that it’s not a matter of choice as much as a necessity to you Avatars.” She leaned back, pulling the straw to her lips again. “The only question that remains is if you’re still holding on to your identity throughout your service and it seems to me there’s plenty of humanity left in both of you still. Once that is gone, I see nothing wrong with disposing of the husks of the people you once were. After all, your only remaining natural predators are the likes of you or people of your calibre, of which there are few. I don’t suppose you disapproved yourself, did you?”

It was strange seeing her blush at the compliment; he wasn’t use to seeing such a response from a woman. While it hadn’t been uncommon for him to indulge during the war he’d never bothered to court all that much. For a moment he considered the possibility of having to fight her, it would probably be less than enjoyable. Would he even consider doing it?

Since his thoughts kept returning to it Lazarus finally considered the possibility of Yishreenok telling him to kill her. Lazarus considered it for a long moment; could he do it? Finally he settled on his answer and that was enough as he went back to listening to her. It was strange to listen to her talk about Shard, especially since the first time she had been pissed about him and now she was at the very least friendly with him now.

“Yeah, he really is a force of nature isn’t he?” Lazarus considered it, strange really. Was it because Shard was an Avatar? That didn’t really seem right for some reason, “I think it is more than that with Shard; maybe it's because of what he is. You’ve seen him in his natural state I assume?” Lazarus smiled up at her, she probably had but it was at least worth asking. “And for the record no; I didn’t disapprove of the killing. Azorian was on an absolute tear at the time, the collection of souls I was doing was a sham. The Avatar was taking them and using them to build an army. So Yishreenok decided to ask Shard to help since Azorian was such an ancient Avatar and Shard had a God weapon. So in the end I helped and we brought Azorian down. The result was my ascendence.” Lazarus swirled his milkshake using the straw. His thoughts swirling like the melting green liquid, it was rather strange really here she was. Realistically one of the only beings that Yishreenok probably cared about and he was going to sit and talk to her. “Thank you.”

“His “natural state” is one of the most unnatural things I’ve seen.” Akime giggled. “I’m kind of happy that there aren’t many men as fearsome and powerful as he is.” She commented, then sat and listened to Lazarus’ story. It captured her imagination, even though it was just a sketch and she wanted to find out more. Of course, there were ways to see that vision…. But he’d refused to even touch her so if she wanted to peek into his memories she’d probably have to steal a little of his essence instead. He might not appreciate that.. but the temptation was there. Back in the castle she’d often been greedy for more, plain words never quite cutting it when actual memories were on offer. She’d violated more than one servant’s memory and even a few generals’.

Her eyebrows shot up as he thanked her. Then her expression relaxed into a smile. “You’re welcome. I appreciate good company and you’ve not disappointing. Would you like seconds or are we ready to leave?”

He looked up at her “I think I’m good on seconds.” Studying her face for a moment he tilted his head. “I see those questions in your eyes. What do you want to ask?” It was an open invitations since it was clear that when he talked it wasn’t always the whole story but just enough to make her want to ask more about it. Maybe he’d done it on purpose, after all it was nice to have someone pay attention from time to time. As he let her think he turned to look out the window at Angel’s Landing. The skyline had certainly changed over the years. He wasn’t sure if it was for the better but the people had certainly changed as well. If Akime was any indication of that then he was sure to find plenty of other interesting people. Turning back he gave her an encouraging smile. “I promise I won’t bite, don’t miss your opportunity thinking too long what it is you want to ask” clearly teasing he settled in with a smug grin on his face as he awaited her question of choice.

She seemed surprised at first before deciding to match his expression. It was a poor attempt, not because she couldn’t pull it off but because right now her curiosity was quickly shining through without much reservation.

“Do I only get one?” She couldn’t hold back the grin. “Okay then…. How did that fight go? And how many other influential people have you taken care of? Brag a little, I see you want to.” She teased, her aura suddenly expanding to twice its original size. It crept towards him like a hand sliding over the table and stopped a centimetre from his face, an ethereal silvery shimmer in the air. “You can tell me, or you can show me. Would you dare?”

Lazarus smiled at that and looked at her aura through his magic sight. “The real question is do you dare?” This was all kinds of dangerous but at this point Lazarus didn’t see any reason to hold back. If Yishreenok wanted her then this was the best opportunity ever. If not then it would confirm Lazarus’ sneaking suspicion that for whatever reason Ysihreenok really didn’t care all that much.

“I’m not the one worried about what the gods think. The only thing that matters is me and you.” The grin widened and her aura closed in. It cupped his face like gentle palms and then went through his skin, slowly, attentively. It smelled of something sweet, an exotic flower planted on temple grounds and used for worship for generations, and of fresh grass and subdued fires and again, not quite either. Akime reached out and grabbed his hand, for reassurance more than anything, as she peered into his soul.

Shifting forward to meet it Lazarus collected up her other hand and gave in a gentle squeeze as he felt the aura meet his. It was her, wrapped up neatly in a single feeling and scent; there was certainly nothing more appropriate he could think of as he relaxed the wards around his soul.

If Shard’s soul was like a storm then Lazarus’ was like being plunged under a river that had long since frozen over and never bothered to thaw. Raw power tugged at the edges of Akime’s aura threatening to submerge her for an eternity below the icy surface of Lazarus’ essence. As it tugged her deeper into the dark it became clear that this was the mantle as something warm brushed against her aura; it was like waking up cold and afraid in bed only to have your lover tug you back under the covers. The scent that rose to meet her was that of a forest on the edge of a distant ocean. Salt hung in the air but the press of wood and water waded in on the ocean tang as she finally met the aura covered by his icy mantle.

Akime smiled. The initial alarm she felt had subsided and now she could enjoy the whole array of his essence. The scent of pines and bark and the sea in all its beauty…. Her aura snuggled closer to his, enjoying the ethereal embrace.

With a tug it shifted to bring the memory forward. It was a mire that stretched on for hundreds of miles in all directions. A constant drizzle fell over the whole area and a large roar resounded in the sky she had been on the monsters trail for days now- a skip and she could see a figure wrapped in an old ragged cloak plunging further forward into the muck of what was now a swarm. The warm rain continued on end. They called one city in Shadowmarch the drowning city because of the incessant rain. The Dragon roar was closer this time; she could feel it in her chest as she slogged after the figure- another skip. Magic, the air was thick with it. Scattered corpses and bones littered the swamp around her, cuts and burns covered her arms and chest and it felt like her lungs had been squeezed. The figure was dead, floating face down in the water with a spear of lightning sticking from his back. Shard grabbed the spear and tugged it out of the dead Avatars back. A black energy began to bleed out of the man slithering across the water. Plants, insects, animal, anything living and close enough to be touched by it died as it slithered across the water. It wrapped around her ankles and surged up her body plunging into her heart. It was like drowning, drowning in the awesome power of death itself.

And like that it was over.

She gasped and recoiled before composing herself. Her eyes focused on the present as she pulled her aura back slightly but still lingering around his. “Well then…” She smiled. “…that was a new experience. Not entirely pleasant, I have to admit. Any other visions you want us to share?” Her heart was pounding but there was a warmth left behind that she didn’t necessarily want to lose. It had been quite a few years since she’d been allowed so close to someone and it felt like a bad drug. And even when she had, it was rarely so oddly pleasant. Welcoming… It was an interesting cocktail of emotions, the bitterness of the memory itself and the warmth of Lazarus’ own attitude. “I appreciate your honesty.” She let out a small breath, still somewhat shaken. “I feel like I should repay you somehow...?”

Lazarus smiled at the question. “Tempted are we?” The smile said he knew he’d caught her. “If you feel like braving it again I have something else to show you. Not nearly as relevant to anything we’ve been talking about but it might interest you.” Lazarus held out his hand again, offering the way to another instance of memory. “And as for repaying me you could always spend more time with me. I’ve been bored out of my mind in the tower lately and this has been a nice change of pace.” It had been strangely pleasant having her share the memory with him, while he’d never done anything else like it but it had been pleasant.

Akime nodded, a grin slowly spreading her lips. “Gladly!” She said genuinely and gripped his hand again, her essence washing over him in a warm wave. She didn’t specify in what sense she said it. She didn’t have to.

This time Lazarus drew her right through his mantle like his aura swept her off her feet and carried her right through the freezing river which covered his soul. This time she stood on a sea cliff looking over a rock littered cove. A massive ship was impaled upon the rocks, long since left to rot on the spires of rock rising from the ocean. With a heave of power the ship shifted and moved, but it wasn’t a kinetic magic. It was necromancy. Death magic poured into the ship as the ship shifted off the rocks. The water rose to meet it as the holes in the ship sealed themselves and the ship settled on the ocean.

The vision ended slowly as Lazarus released Akime’s aura gently, lingering on the contact. His face was a smug grin as he let the vision and the implications of what he had done settle in. Still smiling he waited for the response. Hands still gently holding hers.

It took a few seconds to completely shake the vision off. The colours were so vivid and every inch of the hull and mast had been saturated with crisp detail. The way the holes simply shrunk as wood rose from the sea bed to restore the ship’s original shape, the way the sails seemed to grow out of thin air like a flower bud going into full bloom… It was amazing. Sure, she could animate objects and juggle with souls but this was entirely different. It was almost like defying time itself.

“Lazarus…” She stared into his eyes, half-dazed and half-amused. “You’re making it very hard to let go of your hand.” She admitted. And that was a dangerous thing because in the past she had wanted to keep people close to her forever, and she had managed to imprison their souls within her own. It wasn’t something she could easily forgive herself, even though the compulsion was still there at times. She looked down and retrieved her hand and her essence. “I never knew necromancy could be so… beautiful.” She tried to sound lighthearted despite the growing unease. Inside, her essence was rearing up, greedy to take more than it should. “But… considering you’re Ysihreenok’s avatar, what would happen to you if he suddenly retracted his power? If he starts disapproving, what would happen to you?”

Contemplating for a moment he tapped the table. “I’m not sure he can.” This was certainly an odd statement but it was more or less the truth. “I mean considering that I’ve been in the Twilight Prison for so long and yet he still didn’t remove the mantle?” More finger tapping followed, the heat from her hands still lingering on his as he ran his hands over each other. “The other question to consider is why would he have needed Shard and I to kill his previous Avatar. I mean I know I inherited the mantle which means he has a lot more control than if I had taken it but still. I’m not sure he can.” continuing to think he looked back up at her “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just worried. I don’t like to think of people having power over my friends.” She shrugged, playing with her straw. It was funny, now none of them was quite sure what to do with their hands. “I mean, I suppose technically we’re all more or less at the mercy of nature, time, death and such, and perhaps even the gods… but I like to think we each have our individual freedom and independence as well. Clerics, Avatars, Mantles… those are things I don’t completely understand and in a way they scare me.” She went quiet, considering the possibilities. She wasn’t quite aware of how the gods and avatars worked but if Lazarus was allowed to take the mantle from the previous avatar, then Ysihreenok either couldn’t stop it from happening, or approved of it. In the first case there was probably no reason to worry as it meant that once separated from the him, the god had no reign over the power of an avatar. And yet she couldn’t shake the troubling sight of that dark power slithering across the swamp to enter his body. It reminded her too much of a parasite that was moving from host to host, leaving nothing but a trail of death behind. She glanced up at him again, this time weary. If he was being puppeted by the god, then she should be cautious about how close she lets him. Not because she feared death, her time was long overdue, but because the thought of it taking her loved ones away was unimaginable.

But then, looking at his face she couldn’t deny she felt worried about him as well. More worried than she should be, given that she barely knew him. He’s just a man. a small voice told her, but the memory of his essence was speaking louder. It had opened up to her, embraced her in a way very few people had. To be pulled in was a completely different feeling than to be pushed away. And it wasn’t one she’d experienced often.

She let out a long, defeated sigh and played with the sand around her toes to distract herself. Her mind was saying “stay away” but her heart disagreed. She had a hunch one of them had already won.

Amber sighed, looking at her watch. It had been about an hour now since she saw Shard…. He must have left the ship already, right? Surely by now he’d be back in the Tower…?

Or maybe they hid away in Raven’s berth. She groaned. If Akime was here, she could have asked her to check but without the Mistress of Sight’s abilities she couldn’t be sure. She looked at her backpack with a miserable expression on her face. She’d almost gotten away too. If it wasn’t for Marielle suddenly snapping and demanding payback from the pirate queen, she probably would have made it to Angel’s Landing before anybody could notice.

Well, now that the whole ship was on its feet, chances of sneaking away were severely diminished. But she couldn’t stay here forever either. She’d already called the hotel to request a late check-in but they wouldn’t wait forever and with Ibuki not picking up his phone she wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her was silently cursing at Shard for having to poke his nose in everything and anything that happened around his precious little nest. The other part was cursing herself for being too cowardly to confront him.

When did the hatred turn to fear? In the first few years after she’d been killed she would have gladly given up on anything to get a rematch. Nowadays the memories sprouted mostly fear. Somehow with time his image had turned from that of an equal to that of a god. One that could lord over her future… and had.

She sighed again. She had been foolish. Getting herself caught in the games of god-like people. In a way Akime was no better than Shard. If she forgave one, she should forgive the other. But she wasn’t sure she could.

So! She jumped up, grabbed her bag and ran out the door. Time for a little theft!

Adéla sighed as she looked out over the skyline off the Raven’s port bow, absentmindedly flicking a knife open and closed, open and closed… She wasn’t sure what on earth could be causing Ludelle to be so hostile. It was something that gnawed at the back of her mind, and she’d had to leave the infirmary because of just how hostile the air around Ludelle had gotten.

Eventually pushing herself up and off the deck, she began to slowly walk back to the Tower - probably practice some more Aberrant magic. However something caught her eye and she turned, raising an eyebrow at the the girl running across the deck towards one of the skate gliders. Jogging over, she jumped down in front of her, “Well, hello there.”

Amber all but jumped out of her skin. She stepped back clumsily and almost tripped over her own feet. When she did regain her balance (by grabbing a nearby axe and knocking it clear off the wall) she straightened and flashed a grin that had surely gotten her out of more than one pinch. “Hello there. I was just wondering if there isn’t anybody willing to race me. Are you one of the pirates or one of the knights?” She asked, fidgeting with her fingers behind her back.

Adéla snickered and leaned against the freeboard, “Technically speaking, I’m with the Tower, but I honestly don’t see myself as the knightly type. Granted, I’m not much of a pirate either, though it never hurts to have a bottle of rum handy to smash over someone’s head.” She stood straight again, cocking her head to the side and quirking an eyebrow, “But now I have to ask, who are you with? And what exactly were you planning to race?” She flashed a devilish grin, “After all, I do love a good challenge.”

The other girl’s grin copied her own. “What or who, I don’t care, as long as it’s fast.” She turned and unhooked one of the gliders. “And while I’m always “for” a good skull-bashing, I think you should always made sure the bottle is either empty, or downright toxic – else it’s just a waste of perfectly good booze. As for my allegiance, for now let’s just say I’m on my own.” She turned and handed Adéla the borrowed skate glider.

“Well of course you make sure the bottle’s empty!” Adéla exclaimed with mock indignation, “Obviously you drink it before cracking skulls.” Taking the skate glider, she continued with a simple question, “Where to?” And, after a slight pause, “And may I ask, who am I racing?”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” She stopped and grinned and offered her hand for a handshake. “Name’s Amber. The destination is Arakawa Prince Hotel in Angel’s Landing. And we need to be there in...” She checked her watch. “Twenty minutes.” She slipped her goggles on and handed Adéla a pair. “Don’t fall.”

“Don’t fall you say?” Adéla grinned, “I would give you the same advice actually. I may not look it but I’ve got a good half dozen decades using these things. You might find you’ve got your work cut out for you.” After a moment, she extended a hand as well, “Adéla Láska. I don’t need the goggles though.” A moment’s pause, and a pair of shielded lenses slid into place over her eyes and face, encapsulating them in a mask capable of relaying… essentially anything from wind speed and direction or the temperature to the number of shots left in a gun, straight to her brain.

A very useful mask.

“I’ll see you there, then.” She dropped off the side of the airship, seconds later shooting past it on the skate glider with the thrusters at full blast.

Amber wasn’t far behind, she noticed, catching up rather impressively. That just wouldn’t do, she couldn’t very well lose the race. She grinned, kicking the craft’s afterburner into action with a stray foot as she began to poke around in its onboard software, looking for the soft locks put in place to promote longevity.

Looping around several pieces of construction equipment she caught sight of Amber and winked at her, blowing a kiss as she disabled the soft locks, forcing even more power into the thrusters. Yelling with exhilaration as the wind whipped through her hair, she twisted and turned between the vast bulks of high rises, water towers and more construction cranes.

Amber’s jaw dropped as the other girl disappeared from sight, weaving her way through the city at a speed that shouldn’t be possible. Agrin set on her face a moment later as she decided to at least try and keep up as close as possible.

The wind was clawing at her cheeks and her hair was whipping at her skin but the feeling was unmatched. True freedom, the knowledge that one mistake could lead to your downfall, the trance you entered when your whole future depends on a single moment, on walking the thin line between skill and insanity.

She screamed with joy as she made a loop around a flagpole protruding off a building.

She grabbed the front of the board and slid across the table of some terrified customers of an caffee.

She tilted the sail and shot up, rising ten storeys over the hotel’s entrance before plunging head-first for the landing terrace. In the final second a pair of huge wings sprouted from her back to cushion her landing, disappearing in a puff of smoke a second later as her board landed hard to her side. She turned to stare at its cracked hull.

“Ops.” Amber grinned at the two porters who were staring at the women, trying to decide if they should invite them in or call the security. “Sorry we’re late.” She chirped happily, patting Adéla’s shoulder. “Good one, I really enjoyed that! Even though you cheated. I think you could’ve won even if you hadn’t.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could’ve.” Adéla gently leaned the skate glider against a wall, “I wanted to see just how far I could push that little thruster before redlining it, afterburner and everything.” She grinned, “I can say it did pretty well, all things considered. Now…” she paused, looking over at the porters, “Who were you here to meet?”

“Oh, I'm just checking myself in. Its under the name of Akime Harwen.” The two men in uniforms exchanged surprised glances and then nodded to the girls, moving to take the gliders in. Amber looked back to Adéla, smiling. “Thanks for the race. We should do it again sometime.”

“Oh, definitely. I haven’t had a good adrenaline rush like that in ages.” Adéla offered Amber a hand for a high five, “I’ll be right back, actually, nature calls.” Walking quickly towards the door, she squeezed between two people and disappeared into the building.

Amber laughed as she high-fived the other girl and hurried to the reception herself, leaving the skate glider to the staff to deal with. Much to her surprise, the neatly dressed receptionist informed her that someone named Cole was actually waiting for her in one of the seminar rooms. Perplexed Amber nodded and headed down one corridor, wondering what the heck might have happened for Cole to seek her out. Last she remembered she woke up and he was gone, and so was everyone else on Blackwing. She had no idea where they were or what they were doing but assumed that because nobody picked up their phone it might’ve been important.

On the other hand it wasn’t all that unusual for Cole to choose to deliver a message in person instead of over the phone. He was an animal at heart, after all.



“This is becoming too tedious.” A man complained from the corner of the seminar room.

“Have some patience, Gnot. All good things need time.” Another man responded. He was perched on the table boasting the best view of the half-open door.

“Not rape. Rape doesn’t take time.” Gnot grinned, making his brother roll his eyes in annoyance. How they came out of the same womb, he’ll never understand. At least Ramnir was always silent and when Lucas opened his mouth it was for a better reason.

“Are you sure this will work? I thought she could see our blood or something.”

“No, that’s the boss, the one we’re after. This one is harmless as far as we know. Still, that’s why you have your bat, don’t you?”

“Don’t piss your pants now, Lucy.” Gnot couldn’t help himself, bursting out in laughter as soon as he’d finished his sentence.

“What kind of boss leaves his slaves powerless anyway?” Lucas mumbled.
“A careless one.” Tarus shrugged, fighting the embarrassment he felt from his kin. The moron had been too loud, Cole realised when he removed the hand from his forehead only to realise Amber had already strolled into the room. She had stopped after only a few steps and was now staring perplexed between himself and Gnot, obviously puzzled by the resemblance he bore to said “Cole”. Luckily, Lucas hadn’t missed a heartbeat and before the girl could escape it connected with the back of her head with skull-shattering force. Torus cringed at the sound that preceded Amber’s collapse at his feet. Even Gnot stopped laughing.

“This should mess her up well enough, right?” Lucas asked, examining the blood that was now flowing freely between Amber’s locks.

“You’d hope.” Torus stepped on her back for good measure. He was always weary of souls that could change bodies at will. A small grunt came from the girl, indicating that Lucas had put in exactly the right amount of force. Lucas kicked the door shut and pulled a knife out of his belt. He was just about to use it when Gnot’s fist clenched around his hand, making him drop the weapon.

“You have to start off gentle. Builds up the terror and they scream louder later. Let her catch a breath.”

Lucas grumbled but sat down next to the girl, leaving the knife to the giant. Torus didn’t want to be a part of this, really, so he took the girl’s mobile from her pocket and went to join Ramnir in the corner. He didn’t enjoy torturing people and the only reason he’d accepted was because of the opportunity to help deliver that Akime to his lord. Behind him he could hear the sound of clothes ripping and a gasp and a mumble that suggested the girl might be coming to.

“What the hell…?” She rasped out, sounding like she was gagging on her own blood. Torus was just dialling the number when the sound of breaking bones and a scream filled the room.

“The fuck did you do that for?!” Lucas shouted. Torus turned to see Gnot had stomped on the girl’s arm hard enough to break it. He was grinning, clearly relishing in the way her other hand was clawing at the carpet while his foot pinned her down. Her shirt was ripped open but her bra was intact. Honestly, he’ll never understand the brute’s tastes.

Turning away he pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the tone on the other side.

Behind him Lucas snapped at his accomplice, possibly getting back the knife.

“What the hell do you want?” Amber managed to sob out.

“Clearly, it’s your boss. But before that, we want to see how many cuts it takes for a geist’s body to release its soul.”

The knife found one of the multiple runes covering Amber’s back and she screamed louder than any undead creature had the right to.

Torus frowned, put a finger in his free ear and listened to the phone’s waiting signal.



Adéla hummed an off key tune that changed to frustrated mumbling as she washed her hands, fiddling with the faucet to try and get a consistent flow of water going. “Seriously, who thought these little motion sensors were a good idea?” She grumbled, “Impossible to wash your hands with a couple drops every other second.”

Then she heard a scream.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she whirled towards the door. That voice… it sounded familiar. She ran, jump kicking open the door and sprinting in the direction the noise had come from. Was it a trap, whatever it was? Almost certainly. Did she care? Whoever was causing that scream was going to be making some of their own soon, so no, she didn’t care.

She fumbled for her gun, only to realize she’d uncharacteristically left it back at the tower. A second scream prompted her to move faster, regardless of whether or not she had a weapon. In all honesty the gun would’ve been most useful for forcing someone to back down, and whoever was making…

That voice was Amber’s.

She barely knew her, but considering how the woman was the first person she’d met in months who had spoken to her as something other than in a professional sense, or hadn’t glared venom at her…

Her flesh began to deform as she neared the source of the sound; clothes morphing into a torn and ancient looking crimson robe as her arms changed colors; growing claws in place of fingernails; ripped bandages that looked tainted with some some otherworldly substance proceeded to envelop her arms as her face started to change as well; vile tentacles began to writhe and emerged from under her robe; and thick armor plated her shoulders, torso, arms, and neck.

By the time she arrived, she would do more than scare children on halloween, she’d looked at herself in the mirror before, and a chill of primal fear of old, unknown terrors would run down her spine at the monstrous thing she could become.

She grinned savagely, and kicked open the door.

“Hello, ladies.” She growled in the inhuman hiss that was now her voice. Her gaze alighted on Amber, and her face darkened.

Without warning, tentacles lashed out in all direction, whiplashing the men in the room as their heads cracked against the walls and the tentacles now wrapped around their necks coiled tightly. She spared Gnot however, holding him aloft with yet another tentacle as a second one pried the now bloody knife from his hand even as he spat and cursed and hurled obscenities at her.

She looked down at Amber, and her voice softened, “I… gah, I’m sorry. I should’ve been quicker. Do you think you’ll...?” She trailed off, helpless to do anything. All she could do was hurt, not heal.

Turning her attention back to Gnot, she looked down at the knife she held in her hand, and then back up and him, and threw it, embedding the blade deep in his genitalia, and then the wall behind him. His screams were sweet, sweet music, a grass flute over a background of a bubbling brook, her vision flashed, and she was back in the Stygian Blade, interrogating a young man who had gone just one little step too far. This time, she didn’t backtrack from the memory, but embraced it.

“You done fucked up, boy.” She hissed, her voice somehow even more inhuman, where before it had been laced with fury, now all Gnot could hear was cold, calculating contempt and digust, “I’ll get to your friends in a mome-” she was distracted as one of them began beating on the tentacle that held him with a metal bat, it didn’t hurt all that much, but now she was even angrier, and tightened down her grip on his neck before turning back to Gnot. “You see, if there’s one thing in this world I hate the most, it’s scum like you. You make me sick.”

The man in her grasp blanched, evidently trying to say something. She was of half a mind to let him say it too, just to have another reason to make him suffer.

Another tentacle shot out, grasping onto his right foot, “This little piggy went to the market.” She squeezed down, crushing his foot into a bloody pulp and moved higher up on his leg, relishing his howls and moans, “And this little piggy stayed home.” She crushed his shin, smothering his mouth with the end of the tentacle holding him by the neck to keep him from making too much noise, pleasant as it was, it was distracting. “This little piggy had consensual sex.” She tore off his leg below the knee, waving it tauntingly in front of his now tear streaked face, “And this little piggy had none.” She crushed his thigh, flinging the pulverized lower leg against the wall, “And this little piggy found out just what happens to inhuman pieces of shit!” With a violent motion she twisted the remains of his right leg out of the socket, and then ripped them clean off.

His screams were like music to her ears as she brought him closer, pulling the knife from the wall with the same tentacle she had used to… amputate his leg. She held it up to him as she hummed a nursery rhyme. “P… please!” He begged, eyes showing a by now broken man. She was disappointed. The young twenty something year old had lasted longer, and to more, and had still had the gumption left to spit in her eye - she’d almost let him off lightly just for that.

Gnot was just pathetic.

Planting a light kiss on his cheek and tracing it down to his mouth, she slid a cold, alien tongue in as she followed up with a very slow, very deliberate cut along the same route with the knife, eventually cutting through completely and leaving the entire lower right side of his mouth exposed as the severed flesh flopped down. Licking the blood off the edge of the knife she smirked at him, planting another kiss on the other cheek that left a bloody imprint of her lips before doing the exact same as before and ripping out his teeth.

He blubbered nonsensical things, and she promptly cut his tongue out, tossing it off to the side as she examined the blade. “Very fine knife you chose to torture my friend with, by the way, seems to be some very nice carbon steel. Should hold an edge well.” She grinned, “Which is good, because we’ll need it.” She looked him dead in the eyes, seeing the abject terror in them and licking her own lips in anticipation.

She pressed it down on his breastbone, slowly drawing the knife down the length of his torso until she reached his pelvis, where she turned it sideways and continued to cut, rotating him until she’d made one full circle. Gnot had been reduced to incoherent babbling that she ignored, focusing only on her task. Moving up, she did the same at the point she had begun the incision. Pausing for a moment, she admired her work, cooing to the man, “Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be over eventually.” Gnot didn’t respond, but he was still awake, barely. Grasping part of the flesh she had cut, she dug her fingers in, slowly peeling away his skin until she had a large, bloody piece of it in her hand, leaving the fat and muscle underneath exposed.

Before she could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps met her ears, and with a primal scream she punched through his ribcage and pulverized his until now beating heart, raising the nearly lifeless thing that had been a man and smashing it into the floor, then the wall, then the other wall, and finally hurling the pulped remains into the ceiling before turning to face the door.

The couple that stood at the door seemed suddenly so out of place, like a piece of a different reality that had been tossed here by a violent storm. The woman’s eyes were wide but her mouth was drawn to a very tight line. A piece of flesh fell from the ceiling to her bare feet with a sickening wet sound.

Akime stepped over it and leaned over Amber, wrapping her arms around her protectively. Her jaw was clenched as she explored the damaged links between the girl’s body and soul. A few more and it would have completely departed. So that’s what all the missed calls were about. Stupid, stupid little men….

With shaking hands, Akime spread some of her essence over her friend in an attempt to hold the soul inside. Distressed eyes found Lazarus before steeling themselves and moving to Adéla.

“Let them go. They deserve a trial.” She tried to relay some authority through her voice though she wondered if the aberration would even care to listen to her.

Adéla looked towards Akime. She paused, not doing anything before hesitantly asking, “Will she be okay?”

“Yes.” The voice was the like the grave given form. The temperature in the room plummeted. The man who had followed Akime into the room stepped over to Amber and looked down at her. With a flick of his hand death energy began to cling to the link between her form and spirit. It anchored her soul in place. With another swift motion he numbed the pain receptors in her brain by temporarily forcing the life out of the sections responsible for the pain receptors in her damaged skin. “She will require medical attention, until then she will be fine.”

Lazarus stepped past her into the room proper. A black fire had crept up his hands starting at his finger tips and now bathed his hands and the upper parts of his arms. Through the fire glimpses of yellowed bone could be seen. His eyes filmed over with quicksilver and the beat of dark feathered wings could be heard just at the edge of normal perception. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he surveyed Adéla’s handywork. “Pain.” He paused, “Impressive.” With a twist of his hand he plucked a gossamer thread from the air and inspected it. “What a rotten soul, it didn’t even make it across the barrier, it just fell apart on this side. Fascinating.” Lazarus continued his inspection of the death and mayhem Adéla had caused.

Adéla nodded to Akime, letting the other men in her grasp drop to the ground in heaps, one of them -the one with the bat- was completely unresponsive as he hit the ground, in all likelihood dead as well. She sighed, closing her eyes as the tentacles, armor, robe, and claws all seemed to melt back into her skin before looking up at Akime, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here in time.”

Akime’s mouth was dry and she was sure her hands were shaking. The shock of finding Amber like this was quickly eased as she held her in her arms, and then completely evaporated when Lazarus did his magic on her. She didn’t like necromancers but for the first time she was actually glad to have one around. She tried to remind herself that as she listened to Lazarus examine the scene as if it was an interesting painting. That still made her feel uneasy.

But her worry hadn’t eased. Who were these men? Why had they done what they did? Was the staff of the hotel aware?

And furthermore, what impact would that incident have on that young girl, Adéla?

“So you think butchering those men is proportional punishment? Just because they hurt someone who is already dead? And what about the staff? Would you have killed them too because they didn’t rush in to help?!”

“Bullshit… ” Amber muttered, shifting out of Akime’s arms and staggering upright.

“Amber---” Akime tried to grab her hand but Amber didn’t let her. She smiled at Adéla and thanked her before leaving the room in a rush. Akme stood to follow but hesitated and finally gave up with a sigh.

Adéla raised an eyebrow, looking at the door and back at Akime for a moment before her mouth opened in a small “Oh…” She looked at Akime and spoke slowly, “So let me get this straight, she died at some point and those runes are keeping her soul anchored to that body, and therefore she’s a geist?” She narrowed her eyes, “Last I checked…” she barely whispered, voice balancing on a knife’s edge, “Geists could still. Feel. PAIN!” She took a breath, “What does it matter if she died at some point?! She’s still in there! You-...” she trailed off, “That man got exactly what he deserved, now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go find her.” Hair on the back of her neck standing on end once more, she stalked off, pushing violently through the door to look for Amber.

Lazarus looked over his shoulder distractedly. “She’s not going to make it far without medical attention, as soon as the limiting magic I used on her central nervous system wears off she is probably going to collapse. It won’t kill her but it’s going to hurt like hell.” Turning back to the men still lying down on the ground he shook his head. “There isn’t enough left of this soul to get a good idea of who he was or what he was after beyond simple rape.”

Wincing Lazarus realized how callous that sounded. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound like I was marginalizing the girls experience. Short of ripping out one of their souls I won’t be able to tell what they were after.” He walked over to Hazumi and offered his hand. “That was her. Wasn’t it? I knew she seemed familiar.”

Akime took his hand and squeezed it absently, her gaze still fixed on and beyond that door. She knew she had to find Amber and redo all the anchors but she also knew the girl needed to be alone right now. Alone or with a friend. What had happened to her really was terrifying but so was what the little knight had done to the men in turn. Was the destruction of a soul the appropriate violation of a body? She no longer thought so. Not before an interrogation anyway. Besides, how was she supposed to prevent something like that from happening again if she didn’t know who did it in the first place?

She squeezed Lazarus’ hand again and took a look around the room. At least he understood that physical pain wasn’t the worst thing that could be inflicted upon a person. “Her name is Amber now.” She finally addressed his question. “And sometimes I wonder if it was right to bring her back. If I was sure that whatever lies beyond would be better for her, I’d let her go.” She admitted, giving him a pained look before moving on to one of the unconscious men. He would talk. She’d make him talk. And if he didn’t, she’d simply track his essence back the way it came. After all, there was no better bloodhound than her. She took a sample of his essence and turned back to Lazarus, seemingly more stable. “In a few moments I’ll try to find Amber and make sure she doesn’t depart for good. However I also need to know if the hotel staff had anything to do with this and arrange for those two to be sent to Southgate. …could you call the police for me?”

Lazarus nodded and stepped backwards to the door. “I will be outside, I will also alert the Shard. He will want to know that there was an attack.” With that he stepped out into the hallway to make the calls.



“Amber!” Adéla called, her hands, arms, everything still stained with blood as she wandered around looking for the girl, “Where are you? Are you… do you think you’ll be okay?”

The girl was well ahead, her steps angry and determined, scattering the hotel staff like simple autumn leaves. They shuffled away as if they’d seen a ghost. And in a way, they had. Except this one had the power, and the intention to hurt them.

When Adela caught up with her, she was in the process of beating an old housekeeper’s face in. She paused and turned long enough to affirm to Adéla before dropping the old woman and moving on. “I’ll just beat the shit out of that receptionist, then surely I’ll be better. After all,” she laughed bitterly. “the pain is gone and I’m already dead so that makes everything alright.” Her wounds were still leaking blood but there was something old and stale about it. It left a specific aroma in the air, of wild flowers and rot.

Shaking her head, Adéla walked in front of her, blocking her from moving on. “I lost control in there, I got angry, and while I’m not going to be losing sleep over killing whatever his name was, I should’ve kept myself in check.” She placed a hand on Amber’s shoulder, “Unless you can prove the staff were in on it, I can’t in good conscience let you keep beating their faces in like that. Punch me if you have to, I’ve dealt with far… far worse.”

Her mind flashed momentarily to that street, the taste of uncooked rats and foul water… she closed her eyes for a moment, opening them to look at the girl in front of her again. “Of course if the receptionist is guilty, lead the way and I’ll hold him still for you. But…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say, “You may have died at some point, but so what? You’re still you, still the same person regardless of whether or not your heart beats.”

Slowly, very slowly, she moved to hug Amber. She… wasn’t good at this, not at all. Her skills were in breaking things, killing people, hurting them - not healing them, not helping them. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” She sighed, “But… for what it’s worth, I didn’t know you were, technically speaking undead, and y’know what? I don’t care.”

Amber was reluctant to stop but still she heard Adela out and it was actually surprisingly… kind of comforting. The most shocking part was when she was hugged, however… Because despite being mostly out of it during the fight, she had seen what Adela had become. And now she couldn’t help but chuckle quietly.

“Okay.” She decided. “Come with me and we can decide if that little bitch needs a spanking or not.” She smiled weakly and strode on, the receptionist in sight.



Not an hour after the incident Akime had returned Amber to the safety of the Tower... or at least to the safety of Blackwing. Cole and Ibuki had prepared the room for the upcoming ritual but only one of them had remained in the room - per Amber’s request. She’d also asked for the lights to be dimmed and for Ibuki to stand in the corner - and those were the only few words they’d exchanged on the way here.

Akime dipped the calligraphy brush in the bowl and brought it to Amber’s skin, painting over the stitches, sealing her wounds. Gheists didn’t work the same way as humans and although not fatal or even that painful, the wounds would take longer to heal. The link between Amber’s body and soul had been broken in places like a puppet’s strings being cut and it would take time for them to grow closer again. Akime had offered to find the girl another body but she’d refused and so now the Mistress of Sight had to do her best to repair her. She dunked the brush in the bowl again and drew another sign, this time in an unmarked place. Amber was squeezing the blanket under her but that could be attributed to Lazarus’ magic wearing off as much as to Akime’s actions. The procedure was gross and it stank but Akime had found out long ago that by mixing the blood of a body and the essence of a soul with her own blood made for a pretty reliable anchor. She wasn’t sure why exactly that was and had never found information on anything like it but at some point she’d stopped caring about the technicalities. The important thing was that her marks remained under the skin for years to come.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” She started while she was working. Amber didn’t respond and Akime was happy she couldn’t see her eyes. “I really am.”

“I bet you are.” Amber rasped out. “After all it’s all your fault anyway.”

Akime didn’t respond for a long moment. “Those men will get what they deserve.” She whispered as if afraid to speak too loud.

“No they won’t!” Amber whirled around to stare at the older woman, making her flinch and spill some of the blood in the bowl. “They deserve a painful and slow death and that’s not what you’re giving them!”

Akime felt her own anger rise. “No, Amber, you know that’s not true. We’ve talked about it before, pain can’t solve everything. I’ve made sure your perceptions are as close to those of a living person as I can get them to be but we both know you don’t feel the same way that we do. You can’t just kill people because they’ve hurt you or scared you.”

“Oh no?! And you’ve surely never done it before, when you were the one who was hurt!”

Akime’s eyes went wide with disbelief that she’d go that far. She knew very well that that was exactly why she was saying what she was. Her hand came up to slap the insolent girl…

But Ibuki was there to stop her. He stepped between the two girls pushing them gently but firmly apart.

“That’s enough, you two. The past is the past, bury it and move on.”

The two women looked away from each other, clearly clenching their teeth before any more accusations flowed out. The rest of the ritual was completed without further interruptions.



The air was warm and full of the sound of cicadas. A gentle breeze passed through the grass and ruffled Cole’s feathers – the only sounds in this part of the world. The trip here would be long if it wasn’t for the Tower’s newly discovered secrets and Urthar’s generosity – as it was they had reached here while the men were still breathing.

Akime lifted one of their bodies off the griffin’s back, and let it slump to the ground, holding its head up by the thick leather leash she had put around its neck. It was just loose enough to allow her hand to go through and get a good grip. She needed it for the man’s chest was still fresh with blood and he was missing a shirt.

She turned around swiftly, feeling the world around her waver.
The hilltop was beautiful and covered in summer flowers.
And she hurled the man over her shoulder. One moment he was speeding towards the grass…
…the next he landed, hard, but in another realm.

Akime repeated the process with the second unconscious man and then slumped on the ground herself. Opening two portals consecutively was taxing and she had to sit down and take a breath. Cole’s head came from behind her, nuzzling her arm as he sat around her, letting her back rest against his warm body. She stroked him absently, looking out into the meadow.

The messages she had cut into the men’s flesh was simple. “I thought we had a truce” on one, though her hand had “slipped” a few times around the words, making them somewhat hard to read among the bloody mess. On the other, the message read “Don’t ever forget”. Now that one might tick the Summer Queen off. After all, it was a warning and as such it contained a very bright, very vivid, and very, very detailed account of what had happened to her servant called “Gnot”. Everything was there, even the sensation of the pain he had felt, neatly tied up with the last remaining essence of the other dead man. It would unravel as soon as the Queen touched it and put her in a very, very hot spot for the next few seconds.

Akime sighed, huddling up in the soft feathers and brought her legs close to her chest.