---

Having finished with the others aside from the man in the rafters and one other who he couldn't find, Roger--despite his apprehension--headed in the direction of the kimono-clad Licenti. He hoped not to upset the being as it could likely tear his head from his shoulders if it wanted to, not to mention an array of other likely more scary things.

With this nervousness underlying his actions, Roger slipped through the crowd and found the Licentia, after which he greeted him promptly. "Greetings. I um, didn't expect someone of your standing to show up, but it's nice to have you," he did his best to smile at the Licentia, trying to hide the slight fear that he felt behind the expression.

It showed in his eyes.

"Since you seem willing enough, would you mind meeting us at 2354 West arid drive. It's where we're holding one of the two meetings for the first directive. We want to let the Prae know we mean business."

Archene looked at the human who had come his way and greeted with him. The Licenti smiled at the man a rather warm smile despite it showing slightly elongated canines. It was interesting to meet people like this at times. At least, the man was trying.

"It is understandable. I didn't announce I was coming, but it is good to see my presence is appreciated." The Licenti spoke calmly to the man, "Should I depart for that location now?" His smile didn't fade for single moment.

"Oh...no um, it'll be in a few hours," he smiled nervously. "I'm definitely glad we have people like you here, it will be beneficial to have some muscle and some high profile presence." He paused a moment, "So um...you'll be there then?" He tried to confirm.

"Some muscle?" The Licenti grinned at the Human, not that his remark had meant anything wrong at all, "I will be there. Also," He paused as he studied the man briefly, "It was a good speech." He smiled softly at Roger.

"Thank you," he said, smiling awkwardly and rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'll see you at the second meeting." He smiled brighter and then turned to leave, he had two more to notify...and he was perspiring far too much just from being in the presence of an Eximius Lord. It was daunting depsite the Licenti's surprisingly pleasant demeanor.

---

Zeki gave polite bow to the professor. To be honest, he was slightly afraid he would have had the wrong man, but with Zeki's eccentricities, it would not have even been close to the first time he would have been mistaken for mad.

"Glaedwine, Zeki Glaedwine. I'm a humble storeowner, unofficially of course. The city would be rather...upset if someone of my heritage was to own a store you see."

With that, Zeki tipped his glasses downward with his cane. A light blue flame coming from them would show he was not human, but a Licenti.

"I couldn't agree more about appearances my friend. It takes a wise man to study things for what they truly are. I was hoping you would like the chance to... study things a little bit more closely yourself. I would like to invite you to a little meeting we're having to discuss some of the finer points of the operation. More than mere words to excite a few angry people. Of course, a man of your standing, likely wouldn't want to be too involved. I would just like to give you the chance to see how history turns.

I never find human history to be boring, no matter how many times I watch it. Oh, look at that, I'm digressing again. In any case, the meeting is at 5:30 tonight at 2354 West Arid Drive. We'll have refreshments, here is my card should you come."

A business card was quickly produced reading

Zeki Glaedwine
The Twilight Spirit
Owner

"For every whisper, and every item of supernatural report."
2354 West Arid Drive
555-5555

And with the card given, Zeki turned to leave. He was suppose to be the leader of the rebellion, but the warehouse was getting a little too noisy for his tastes. He liked to think of himself as a quiet man, but truthfully, he liked to hear himself speak, and he couldn't do that drowned out by noise and other people.
-------------

-To everyone in the warehouse-

The actual meeting consisted of far fewer individuals. The meeting place, The Twilight Spirit was not a store meant to fit alot of people. Zeki had set up some chairs in back, in his actual portion of the store. He impatiently tapped his foot as it was 5:29, and he was itching to start. Normally, Zeki liked to delegate these sorts of meetings, but he was at a shortage of capable people at the moment. Roger's great speaking ability and charisma were all the more reason why Zeki had sent him out to rally more people.

The room had a projector up, with Zeki's laptop's contents shown across it. Open was his files, specifically C:/Documents/Operations.

The most recently modified were two titled:

'Phase 1: Jailbreak
Phase 1: Rally diversion.'

All the way down were various titles of things planned, with a fairly large file, taking up several gigs, simply titled 'contingencies'. Most of them were small operation names that didn't seem to specify anything immediately violent.

It made Zeki seem either completely technically inept, or open to those he'd invited to this special meeting. Either way, Zeki couldn't wait to begin.

---

---

Still holding his baseball cap within his hand and at his side, Charles listened politely to the man while he introduced himself properly. Zeki Glaedwine… the name was familiar. That was enough for the professor to know and make a note to research it later. At best it eased his anxiety over the unknown factor of who he was being addressed by, though it did little to make his situation better. The immortal didn’t lose his composure when he watched Zeki lean forward then push down his angular glasses, revealing the unnatural blue of his irises aflame with blue. Giving little away, Charles couldn’t help the fact he visibly tensed. Anyone could note it by the way his grip on the bill of his hat tightened instinctively.

Most would’ve assumed it was because Charles was so near a predator of mankind which created the tension within him, but it wasn’t. Instead it was the undeniable fact this was an unknown Licenti. One he had never encountered or met before within his long life time. When it came right down to most of his experience, most of his encounters with unknown Licentia resulted in him being left bleeding or tortured like a mouse by a larger cat. The thought was anything but pleasant to him.

However, he also knew if Mr. Glaedwine had wanted to kill him then why bother to talk with him? There had been plenty of time and chance to discreetly eliminate him without drawing attention, including proclaim he was a spy sent by the Prae. At the earlier display of how easily the other cheered and agreed to follow him, Charles had little doubt it merely take a simple accuration to set the ‘wolves’ upon him in seconds. Additional logic reasoned that few Licentia ever made their presence known to potential prey. Letting his deduction smooth over his unease, Charles’ eyebrow raised slightly at being called friend then let a frown hover over his lips at the rest of the Licenti’s offer.

Currently, as far as Charles was concerned, his task was over. It appeared the woman’s sister wasn’t here from the fact it seemed his friend wasn’t seeming to have any luck in seeking her out and it made him relieved. Now he could quickly depart from this unsavory event and return to his homestead.

When Mr. Glaedwine offered his card, Charles took it with his free hand. Not because he intended to visit it, but to draw off suspicion about his true intentions when he arrived here.

“We humans are… strange creatures. Even living as long as I have, you see the patterns in our foolishness and reasons for our bravery. Most the time, it tends to be selfishly driven...” Charles commented, then took a brief look at the card out of habit.

His ears picked up the mention of the meeting, likely it was where he assumed the small group of selected individuals were going, and politely placed it into his jacket pocket without farther comment. This was an event he wanted to avoid a second time. It wasn’t that he didn’t admire those that who decided to raise their fists at injustice, but the Licentia were hunters of mankind at their very core. Despite evolution or whatever determined what race each were made into, nothing changed this fact. It was amusing to Charles that the very prey were fighting for the rights of predators who likely had once hunted, killed and devoured their very ancestors in the past. The Prae were viewed to be much worse due to their superior attitude and expectations that all of man would merely kneel to their self assigned roles and rules. Their mistake that soon turn this whole occupation into a subtle and bloody war.

Charles lifted his eyes from the card to spot Mr. Glaedwine departing back through the crowd. Not curious at where the Licenti was going, he turned to Anton to bide him farewell and thanked him for the assistance in finding the woman’s lost sister. He followed that up by apologizing for wasting the man’s time and likely for any deception seen in his actions. Afterwards, the professor quickly made his exit out of a side exit of the building and into the clouding storm looming over head. His nostrils caught the moisture building in the air as his hands reached for his jacket, adjusting it. Then he vanished into the growing twilight melting into darkness.

There was one more place he was required to visit before he was able to retire for the night.

A somber mood was within the prison walls, mostly in solitary confinement. Most of the cells were quiet, except for a few grumblings, even as dinner was being passed through the food slots of the cells. This was not the case in the cell of Maria.

"OI! What gives! Ya call t'is food? I'm Hank Marvin in 'ere with t'is Tom Tit!"

The banging on the door ended with a large kick, resounding down the hall.

"Dad was right, bunch of berks, the whole lot of'em."

Maria hobbled around grabbing her now sore foot, before bringing the tray to her bed. There really wasn't any other room in the cell to eat anyways. Maria thoughtlessly scooped up the food, having long since figured out the only way to actually eat the food was to not look at it. The flavor was too strong, and bits were cold in it. It was like the cook had forgot to actually cook the stuff once he'd thrown it together.

Maria couldn't resist, and looked down at it. Stirfry... apparently.

"I'd kill fer some bubble and squeak 'bout now..."

Maria put the plate down, and laid back on the bed.

"Alright, Maria, maybe ya're going crazy, t'at's alright, so is t'e world. Ya fatha messes with the Prae, they lock'im up. You go and do the same thing, and here ya go. Just one package run gone wrong. Tch, bloody mages. Wish I had a bullet fer each and e'ery one of'em. Why are the Prae in charge anyways? T'is isn't even their world! I miss t'e way things used ta be in t'e slums back them, they were home. Sure, there was Licentia here and t'ere, but a good gun rack, and they'd hardly mess with'cha. Not like these berks. Heck, few of 'em, like the Sylph family were nice. What monsters bring ya cake on ya birthday? Didn't have bees and honey, didn't need it. Wonder how long 'fore the rebellion breaks me out. They can't just let me rot in here for one little flake, can they? Tch. I don't want be here!"

Sprawling out more, she looked at the wall of the cell.

"Wonder how Mum's doing?"

(Slang
Hank Marvin- starving
Tom Tit- shit
bubble and squeak - English meal, with mashed potatoes
bees and honey - money
flake- mistake)

---

---

The rain began to sprinkle just when he arrived. Here, within Ominar, it wouldn’t stay like that for long so he wasted little time. Charles mumbled a few words as metallic colored wings erupted from his back then raised upward, folding over his head to shield him from the weather’s abrupt change. The drops grew in volume and pelted his molded Vis. Each one slid back to the black asphalt and started to form puddles around him while he stood there. Silently he admired the towering structure before him. His head lifted to stare into the giant of stone, brick and wood standing there and expected him to enter. Dared him almost with those empty windows staring back at him.

His expression became more grim than before as his hands lifted to prop up his jacket’s collar closer to his neck, mentally pushing away the chill bleeding into his figure and drove him to enter the institution. His shoes thumped hard against the stone steps, retracing the same path for years now, and his hand glided to the door just within reach. Charles gave it a sharp twist then pushed inward. The door didn’t move. His eyes narrowed in irritation as the frame stuck fast, the wood swollen by the moisture saturating the air causing his frown to deepen. He jiggled the knob roughly to get it to loosen, but he had little luck in his attempt. The rusty hinges merely screeched their protest for several moments and after a bit, finally gave in.

The door swung widened open without warning.

The immortal flinched at the loud bang echoing throughout the empty corridors and quickly he stepped inside. Wet impressions of his shoes settled on the marble floor while he edged deeper, his mouth mumbled a soft word. In the same breath, the metallic wings sucked back into his figure and vanished from sight after being dispelled. Thunder boomed behind him causing Charles to tilt his head backwards where he caught the flash of lightning as the streak split across the darken skies. The brighter light drenched his figure in a misshapen shadow for an instant.

Charles’ hand reached for the door then gradually shut it behind him. He didn’t flinch when it it closed this time and instead started to walk forward. The first thing he noticed was the remodeled scene. He realized it was due to the Prae’s occupation that these changes had been accomplished at all. He had been pouring funds and pleading with Ominar’s city council to fix up the place as it was deteriorating at its very foundation. This threatened the very residence’s who were deemed too mentally ill to exist outside these crumbling walls.

Nothing had happened. They ignored him, like usual, until their city’s control had been seized and changes finally made. His mind was slightly amused at the realization that for any changes to been made, it took the city's freedom away.

He let his mind idle as he walked. The scenes distracting his focus when his memory started to overlap the present with the past. Charles’ mind went into automatic while he edged deeper into the sanatorium, each step a familiar repeat of muscle memory. The present shimmered into the past within a blink of an eye. The comfortable looking chairs became long, cushion less benches along the wall. The paper covering the corridor peeled down to the brick underneath. Sickly, thin looking patients were seated on the few benches left outside. Men and women curled in upright balls. Every single face looked hollowed out, skull like, and eyes were glossed over thanks to the several pills forced down their throats daily.

The past was nothing more than a horror filled recount of mankind's cruelty and neglect over those who didn't belong in 'proper' society. It wasn't the first time in history this behavior repeated either. Shaking off the reminiscing, he came to a stop right at the receptionist’s desk.

Additional differences didn’t limited themselves to the building only, but included the staff too. His last visit he was greeted by a white, plump woman in her early forties with a kindly temperament. Now sitting at the desk, a young woman looked rather sour at having her work interrupted. Her dark skin, bright purple lips with a few layers of makeup and bouncy, tightly curled black hair were cut above the shoulders and the most remember-able features on her person for Charles. He noted them, then tuck the associated traits away in his memory so he could identify her later.

The woman paused in her typing, her right arm shifted upright to support her chin. Arching her eyebrow in question, her eyes stared at him for a few moments and appeared to be wondering why he was here. Skeptical that he was actually just visiting one of the patients, she jumped to the possibility he was going to make trouble. Charles couldn’t fault her for it since he barely looked a day over sixteen and it wouldn’t have been the first time a teenager had tried to pass themselves off as him.

Promptly, he reached in his back pocket and retracted a worn, leather wallet. He fingered through it until he came to his identification card and finally handed it over to the woman to prove his next words. Cautiously taking it, she read it carefully and checked for clear signs of it being a forgery.

Not lingering on his anxiety, Charles spoke in a mature manner. “I’m here to see a Ms. Lilith.”

Her next words surprised him a bit when she smiled. Her hand placed his identification down for a moment and tilted her head, raising from her seat to get a better look at him over the desk. Something appeared to have clicked for her because her tone changed into something much more gentle.

“Damn… Mariam told me you were young, but I wasn’t expecting you to be an immortal teenager, Mr. Aeon.” The woman stated.

Her other hand gestured to his whole figure as if he had put it on display before her. He could hear her teeth blowing a bubble inside her mouth then snap it abruptly with a notable pop, chewing it loudly for another bubble. She didn’t waste anymore time. The receptionist shifted her eyes and hands back to her computer. Her fingers began to click away and brought up the visitor’s form, making one final tap upon the enter key in order to send it to the head office. In the background, a printer beeped. It began to print out a form slowly while she returned her attention to him and introduced herself.

“Name’s Claire Reagan as you might’ve noticed on the name tag, Sir.” Her hand raised a scanner’s lid, then set his identification card easily inside and snapped it shut. A light shone through the crack and it made a dull hum, fully analyzing it in a 3-D fashion. When it finished, she retracted the ID to hit a few keys on the computer causing the machine to create a temporary pass. She spoke while she worked. “Now, hun, I’m using your ID to create a temporary visitor’s pass for the day. When you head out the front doors, which I might add is the only exit, then the pass will be void. This requires you to come back here and fill out a new form before I can repeat the process. It also is standard procedure you pay a fee of 15 pounds for the second pass or you can extend the original by paying about 20 pounds per day up to 3.”

The receptionist placed the card in her lap and rolled back over to the printer. She snatch up the paper, clipped it on a clipboard with his ID card and finally slid back. She passed it over for him to fill out. It included a cheap, office pen wedged in there as well. Charles took the items into his hand and turned on heel, walking back to the nearest chair. His figure sank into the leather while he filled the form out in silence. The only sounds within the office was the sounds of the receptionist typing and the scratches of his pen against the paper. Occasionally joined by the sound of gum being popped.

Charles didn’t take long to wrap up his task then rose to deliver the form to the woman. Claire nodded and filed it away, pausing with a curious expression washing over her face. Her head turned toward him and seemed to study him before asking the question surfacing on her thoughts. “If you don’t mind me asking, but why do you come here every week?”

The immortal sighed and answered. “I made a promise.”

“Why put yourself through that? I mean, most people that come here aren't ever the same as they were in the past. ”

“Love is blind… in this case, it’s very true.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” She commented then continued, reading the form’s information. “I must warn you, sir, she’s been reported as having episodes of violence lately and growing extreme with every passing week. There’s going to be two specialized nurses on standby to monitor the situation and the door is not allowed to be closed.”

The woman pulled out a laminated card from the same scanner. However, she didn’t hand it off until she knew Charles understood the reason he was forced to fill out a form every time.

“You’ve read the full conditions and disclosures about injury regarding visits?”

“Yes. I’ve been reading them for over a few years now, weekly. I appreciate the concern and worry.” Charles answered, hanging his pass around his neck after he took it from her.

“Very good, here’s your card. Now, do you need directions?”

“No, but thank you for the offer. What room is she in?”

“Recovery ward, number 16.” Claire said, her hand reaching into a desk for a paper map then pointed the route out to him.

After checking his understanding a few times, he took the map and again thanked her for her assistance. Charles paused long enough to ask if he could take the map with him. The woman smiled and nodded. She then added one last statement before he managed to get out of earshot. “Try not to upset her, hun. She sent one of our warders into a coma after an episode and demolished her room, so she was moved up a few floors.”

“I shall, Mrs. Reagan. Through pain is no stranger to me,” Charles stated in a calm, unconcerned tone then he vanished from sight into the stairwell.

Charles’ legs ached slightly on his way up, the stairs climb almost endless while he began to dwell on the last time they had seen each other. Only a week had passed but the rapid thumping of his heart and nervousness tingled throughout his system, building apprehension over the upcoming event. His stomach was flipping over itself before he even started. These symptoms seemed to scream that it had been nearly a lifetime. Charles found it amusing how time, despite how jaded he had become, still held her manipulative sway over him.

He wondered if it had more to do with human nature than with the many years he had lived. If that was the cause, some things might never change. The thought was a soothing one at best and gave him a sense of belonging with the rest of mankind. His feet continued the climb until it was no longer necessary.

Charles’ breath stalled when he took that final step, his figure paused on the landing. The door seemed to stare him down and bar his journey for a moment. He second guessed his wisdom in visiting her again. Was it right of him to put her through this pain even for a promise? The question stayed on his mind as he gripped the door, then entered into the lengthy hallway and walked toward the room labeled 16.

Two nurses, males and thickly built, eyed him suspiciously when he approached them. Instinctively he gripped his visitor’s badge and held it outright. Mostly to show them he was allowed to be here. The blond on the right stepped forward then took the badge, the other man peered at him with a cynical look and seemed to expect a dirty little trick. Satisfied, the blond handed the badge back allowing Charles to pocket it. The nurse stepped aside to allow the immortal through. Charles inhaled, still uneased at the situation about to come, while he heard them unlock the door and he walked into the room.

It creaked loudly as if to warn the inhabitant of his coming. The room was completely dark. No shred of light present, either to give him comfort or aid him in locating Lilith. It didn’t take a genius to know this was a dangerous situation, his right foot lead the way deeper into the room while his eyes flickered from one dark corner to the next. She was in here. He could easily conclude this because the hall’s bright light illuminated the door paneling, revealing fresh scratches with blood lacing the grooves. It was as if someone had tried to claw their way out and escape. His shoes creaked along the wooden floor, his weight pushed the boards down and caused them to protest. The sense of being watched raced along his flesh. Goosebumps raised along his skin, made his calm start to stretch thinly with his eyes still rapidly seeking the source in a fruitless search. He forced the door wider.

“Lilith… I know you’re here. It’s Charles Aeon. You remember me, don’t you?”

A rustling sound occurred above him and drew his head upward. Someone moved in the raptors above, the room actually a remodeled attic, when a voice whispered a single word.

“Murder…”

The door clicked shut with a loud snap! Charles eyes widened in surprise, his standing figure now suddenly pinned against the door back. He could hear the nurses shout and try to kick in the door, their concerns muffled by the wood and became background noise in their struggle to get inside. The immortal’s mind had trouble putting together what happened. One moment he was standing, calling out to Lilith then he was abruptly tossed into a close door. At first, the shock of what happened had numbed the pain. Still, he had the sensation of something buried deeply just under his shoulder.

A warm and wet liquid spread from his jacket. It followed the crinkles and grooves then dripped down to the ground. When the first drop hit, it became the loudest. It was followed by another.

The pain kicked in at last around the third drop. The agony seared through his nerves and caused Charles’ awareness to jerk himself back into awareness. Even being immune to death, his basic instincts never failed to react to both injury and fear in the most humanly way possible. No amount of time could change that.

Gingerly, his opposite arm raised to his shoulder. He touched and briefly examined it, feeling something sticking out from the wound’s opening. He hissed whenever he jarred it in the slightest causing him to tilt his head downward. He spied the narrow, wooden and bloody table leg sticking out about an inch from his shoulder joint. It angled into his ribs and, he suspected, broke one or two from how deeply it went.

Charles knew pulling the chunk of wood out now would cause more damage than doing himself any good. He made the decision to leave it as he forced his feet to move, his back started to peel off the surface he was pinned to. He left bloodied footprints behind him with his progression toward his target. The Prae merely stood there. Either she had forgotten him or was locked in a memory, which one Charles couldn’t fully be sure of. Namely as she kept mumbling over and over.

“Murder. . . killed him. H-how could you? I trusted… Murder… filthy murder!”

Charles could still hear the nurses struggling with the door, their fists pounding and bodies slamming against it. His eyes shifted behind him and noted the frame was unnaturally swollen, his mind suspected Lilith had infused it with her Vis. It made sense since she had had plenty of time.

His attention returned to Lilith. A dim, creamy light poured into the scene and illuminated both their conditions. Her feminine silhouette stood nearby and shrouded by the poor lighting within the room. Charles eyes quickly adjusted and saw the details shortly afterwards.

It was obvious she was mentally disturbed. Any fool could easily see that by looking at her.

She swayed in place, her toes balled with each movement she created. Her fingers were covered with an off color, his first guess was blood, from where she had likely clawed the door over and over. His imagination adding her screams to be let out alongside the mental picture. The strait jacket restraints dangled from her too thin frame showing how neglective her nurses had been with her care. Her long locks cascaded down her milky colored skin and covered the pretty blue eyes he recalled lied behind the wild curtain of red. The arms were spotted with vivid bruises, both new and old, clearly seen even by the faint light.

Each new discovery stabbed into Charles’ heart, evidence she had suffered such longanimity, and added to his shame. He started to approach her. He had to stop her from hurting herself anymore and perhaps calm the rage he created, his voice trying to reach her broken mind. His eyes softened while his hand reached to brush her hair from her eyes when he came within range.

“Please… Lilith, don’t do this. You’re hurt. You need help, let me-”

“Get… stay away. . . MONSTER! Murder!” Lilith started to scream, her volume carried in the small room. Her hand rose before him causing Charles’ step to halt from fear at what she was about to do.

The table leg within his side started to jiggle and shake, then shoved forward. Charles grunted in surprise as his head lowered, his eyes spied the source instantly. His teeth gritted when his opposite arm seized the end in hopes to delay her attempt to ‘kill’ him. She clearly either forgot his immortality or just wanted to create the most pain possible on him.

Gasping, Charles tried to reason with her again. “Lilith, please. Stop this… it hurts. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“...Liar… killed my ward! I trusted … Never again!”

It began to become clear, finally, to him that Lilith would never listen to his pleads. She was lost, confused and locked in the past to hear him as she reacted on the echoes of memories years ago. Her eyes glossed over in a furious fog when she tightened her fist and tried harder to shove the table leg farther into him. The realization she wanted to inflict agony on him hurt more than the actual pain in Charles' mind. He had no choice now because if she damaged herself or killed someone, the Prae’s attention would be drawn. They would lock her away within a prism and he would never see her again. This was something he wouldn’t allow to happen.

Charles let a familiar numbness settle inside him. For a moment or two, his heart fluttering in pain and panic at his actions. It feared he would never release the emotion he was locking away as his eyes lowered, hidden from Lilith’s sight. His grip on the wood loosened, now soaked with blood. At last, his whole figure went slack but remained upright.

Lilith stared and stood there, the manipulation of the table leg ceased when she started to walk over. Her balance wobbled and her legs appeared ready to give out from under her at any moment. She paused inches facing him and examined his all too still form. He was saying something.

A snarl and teeth sank into her legs giving her a start, Lilith’s head whirled about to attack what she thought was something humanoid behind her. The mentally unstable Prae never got the chance o when two, large wings sprouted from Charles back and slammed into the back of her head full force.

Lilith’s figure crumbled, caught by his arm before she hit the floor and prevented any more damage. Two large hound like golems stood in wait before he dismissed them.

The nurses managed to enter through the door, Lilith’s control over it now gone with her consciousness. Both stood there in stun silence over the scene that greeted them. Charles could feel the weakness settling into his very muscles and moved to set her upon the untouched bed hidden in the corner. One of the men came forward to take her from him causing Charles’ wing to twitch defensively, reading to beat the man senseless for the thought. His eyes glared hard in warning as he stopped in place.

“Stay where you’re at, I think you’ve done enough damage with your treatment methods.” The immortal spat in rarely shown anger.

His words reflected his venomous mood and were spoken loud enough to ensure either man couldn’t ignore it. They looked at him, worry and fear etched across their faces. It only increased his contempt toward them. Charles didn’t bother being courteous or patient, not after what he noted on Lilith’s very skin, and resumed to gently place the Prae upon the bed. His hand tenderly checked her head for the damage he had caused with his stunt. There was a vivid, purple bruise staining the back of her head. The sight would usually sprout guilt within his core but he stopped it, fearing his temper would get the better of him. Last thing he needed to do was unleash it upon the very source of his ire.

Neither one of the fools would live to see the next dawn... He didn't have time or energy to cover up the murders at this present moment. Charles was honestly surprised he was even able to stand now.

After covering Lilith up with the thin sheet, Charles turned toward the two nurses. His lips tightened in a frown as he began to move toward the door, his wings curled and sucked back into his form. He muttered another word and this time two metallic arms appeared in place of his wings, their base sprouted from his back. They reached for the table leg still stuck in his side. Inhaling deeply, Charles braced for the painful experience to come. The new limbs struggled a bit at first to remove it. They moved and jarred the object, causing his expression to twist in obvious discomfort then faded into relief when it was finally jerked out. He looked at the damage. It was much worst than he originally assumed, his skin already becoming pale from the blood loss. More blood dribbled heavily down his shirt and coat in rivulets, gradually tainted it redder as he let object drop.

The hollowed thump was soon followed by his words. “If you ever want to work in this career ever again then resign your positions at this sanatorium and never return. If I find you here… for each bruise you put on her again, one almost identical will show up on you at the day's end until you do resign.”

Letting those words linger in the air, Charles decided to briefly stop at the infirmary on the way home. He needed to be patched up and afterwards, he intended to drown away his turmoil of emotions boiling under the surface. The effort it took to keep them locked up was exhausting, showing he had to actually focus and force them from clouding his mind. Something that wasn’t like that until recent centuries and displayed how far he had developed since his toxic up bring. Sadly, now it was more a burden than it had brought him any good.

---

The rain poured down from the skies once more. The clouds turned and swirled, their grey shades seemed to reflect his current mood, as Charles Aeon arrived before his modest house. It was a two bedroom, one bath stucco English home with Elizabeth paneling. One of the few and rare buildings that seemed out of time, making it the only place Charles found suitable to buy then remodel back into its former glory. Like himself, it was a statement that some things never become jaded enough to be outdated.

His shoes scrapped along the steps leading to the simple style square door as he reached into his back pockets for his keys. They jingled when he pulled them free then inserted them into the lock, twisting it quickly while he gripped the handle and opened the door. It came free from the frame and swung inward with a soft creak. Soaked and dripping with the rain, Charles dragged his feet into the first room, the hall. The wooden floor was quickly forming puddles where he stepped but he ignored them. Instead, he slammed the door behind him creating a loud thump and moved deeper into the house.

A hand reached for the nearby closet’s handle when his shoe skidded forward. His heavy lidded eyes suddenly widened in surprise and his arms jerked outward to catch himself before he fell. Charles mumbled a curse under this breath while he pressed a single arm against the wall, then leaned down to remove his shoes one by one. He quickly tossed them to the side where they smacked the wall in his frustration over the visit. Relieved to finally be home, he casually removed his jacket and opened the closet to merely just toss it in. At this moment, he was far too mentally drained to care about hanging it up on the door back.

The immortal then moved onto the living room. His appetite had long vanished after Lilith took her wings and sliced into his navel, the wound already healed but the evidence still remained on his clothes. The shirt had a large and wide gash where the Prae had struck hard, her words still echoing in his head. Murder! Murder! He kept hearing her screech during the visit, the words all too true despite his wish for a lie. It was enough to cause him to want to numb the memory and with a heavy heart, he managed to drag himself to the liquor cabinet. Charles brushed his blue eyes over the selection, ranging from expensive to casual tastes, then decided on a merlot from 1962. He gripped the bottle neck and collected a crystal glass, his other hand shutting the cabinet while he made for one side of the nearby walnut chair.

Inhaling, he flopped into the cushion hard and set the glass onto a side table and focused on the bottle. His right hand reached in the drawer then pulled out a corkscrew, placing it into the cork’s hard, woody surface. Gently twisting it in, he grunted and finally gave it a rough tug, breaking the seal with a loud pop.

Charles let the fizz die down, not caring that it was poorly made, while he turned to pour the darkish liquid into the glass. The weight of the liquor shifted, as expected, and the bottle’s mouth lightly kissed the glass’ lip, to easier pour its second-rate essence evenly and slowly; As if putting on a facade for its drinker.


This wasn’t normal for wine, cheap or not, as Charles’ hand promptly let go of the bottle and bolted upright to his feet. The bottle tumbled downward and clipped the table. His eyes would’ve followed it if not for the sensation of a hand drawing close, his head jerked toward the window’s direction. Someone, a short, blurred figure, skirted from view into the edges and vanished from sight towards the front porch. His skin paled in fear, causing him to step back, his foot settling into something wet. Instinctively, his head lowered to spy the blood red stain spreading from the bottle’s opening and soaking into the carpet.

A concussive rapt on the door echoed suddenly, filling the little home with mock thunder; Five times it was, following a pause, and then twice more. Keen ears would note its melodious origins, namely ‘Shave and a Haircut.’ Perhaps someone hoarding two bits sincerely believed Charles was a fine barber…

The professor’s figure stiffened at the noise. His teeth clenched tightly, his fear rising within his throat and his mind trying to clamp down on it. This increase in his adrenaline was enough to sharpen his mind. Pictures and subtle clues flashed through his memories, bringing things he hadn’t noticed before into his attention. The front door knob had been fairly warm when he touched it. Despite the rain chilling the scene, which should’ve made it freezing, as if someone had opened moments before his arrival. Next, his mind floated to when he had slipped, an incident he should’ve realized was unlikely, causing him to recall a solitary set of muddy boot prints in the hall before the front door. His nostrils inhaled catching the scent of a man’s aftershave or cologne, nothing that he had ever worn in his long life time. The immortal’s eyes snapped to the wine glass, noting for the first time it was completely void of dust and a single, smudged fingerprint was dancing along the edge of his wine glass.

The most disturbing thing of all… was the fact his golems were nowhere to be found.

However, that short, blurred figure was present, its previous sighting being no mirage; Clothed like a student, he merely stood outside, in the depressing rain, his shoes perched upon the second and third steps, with his back turned to the door. The hall’s front door had two glass panes flanking it, but the immortal wouldn’t see through them from his position.

And again, that same melodious knock thundered throughout the house, even slower, if that were possible, as if the tune itself had patience that could be tried.

Charles inhaled, trying to control his racing heartbeat. His eyes fell upon the door and seemed to tense against whatever might lie behind it for several moments, his feet fastened in place to collect his courage. Carefully his right foot led the gradual approach to the door, his movement aired his fear too well. After drawing close enough, his eyes peered through one of the glass panels beside the doorway and faintly hoped to spy the individual on the other side. Clearly drenched by now, the figure upon his front steps shifted nervously then every few seconds, glanced back to the door before returning to stare out over the property. It was masculine in shape and possibly one of his students, though Charles doubted it at this time of night. Either way, the man had seemed eager for him to arrive.

Carefully, Charles wrapped his fingers about the cold metal then gave it a slow turn, causing the lock to click. The door creaked open, allowing him to see… the short stranger--a young man--standing right in front of the door, looking right up at him, with a little wave and a cocksure grin as well. Charles stepped back quickly in shock. His hand tightened, glowing with a slight metallic light molding about the skin. It took every ounce of will not to immediately send up a wall between himself and the man that suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Nice night, isn’t--whoa!” Rico said nervously, lowering his hand as the professor prepared magic.

The young man’s brow furrowed, worry tearing at his lips as he continued glancing between Charles’ magical hand and his tense eyes. ‘Good.’ Rico swallowed nervously, raising both his palms outwards, as if to persuade the professor to calm down. He was too scared to move. Then, like a tic, he threw his head back a bit, forcing his black hoodie to release his dark cobalt hair, which flopped down ceremoniously. His matching eyes continued nervously trying to plead. A shiver escaped, raking down his spine.

Charles swallowed the saliva that was becoming a lump in his throat, forcing it downward into his belly weighted with his worry. With some effort, his magic dissipated with a verbal command, causing the young man to lower his hands to his side. Feeling rather foolish, the immortal knew he couldn’t allow this man inside. Something, he wasn’t sure what, was happening and he couldn’t risk the very threat going after the very guest under his roof.

He spoke in a surprisingly icy tone compared to his usual warmth. “I’m sorry, you startled me by being so close to the door. I thought you were farther down the steps, but I was mistaken. I’m not sure what you want, but I believe you might want to consider coming back in the morning. Tonight is a very bad time.”

Not giving the man a chance to reply, he started to close the door; however, the door moved but an inch before somehow resisting him. But it was only for a mere moment, for at the same time, Rico stepped a little closer, putting his right finger on the door and raising his left hand to gesture as he spoke. The door then resumed being cooperative, and the eerie moonlight illuminated his humane appearance: a plain, young man of academic potential and possibly fragile physique.

“But, it--it’s important, P-Professor Aeon…” Rico explained, breathless and worried, “... it regards that man who g-gave you his card. G-Gladwine? No, Glaedwine, I meant.”

Charles froze, his effort to shut the door ceased instantly. His eyes narrowed and stared at the man, feeling a cold sensation grip him. It wasn’t because the man had managed to stop the door or the air was chilled outside, but rather because of the mention of the card. There was only a few ways the man would’ve learned about it and immediately the hairs snaked upright on the back of Charles’ neck. “How do you know about that? Who are you?”

A subtle, predatory glint flicked over Rico’s eyes, his mouth twisting slightly into a toothy smirk. It was obvious that the professor was wrapped up in fear and self-preservation. It seemed to him that Charles had been completely fooled by this persona; Thus, a ‘new version’ of a device had passed its litmus test, and ‘immortals’ made great litmus testers… Sighing mentally, the Prae (yes, Prae) telepathed one of his men, regarding the outcome that he was asked to seek here.

‘It is true, sir?’
‘Totally is, Abri…’
‘Excellent news, indeed. See you tomorrow then...’
‘Yeah, at the usual place…’

There was obviously no connection to the man on Charles’ doorstep and whatever had infested his house, that much he could tell easily while they talked. This meant there was an intruder in his domain, which he should have sensed when he’d first arrived, along with those more obvious clues. That scenario was the only explanation he could come up plausibly and it was one that served only to increase his paranoia, even as he attempted to comprehend the full breadth of the threat. For now, it was just logical to deny anyone entrance into his home until the threat was dealt with. He refused to risk other people’s lives over a matter he knew little about.

Charles’ fingers tightened about the door’s frame and gradually applied more force into shutting the door this time. “I’m sorry, but it’s late and I have something important that must be done first. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Ah huh…” Rico replied simply, glancing away at something in the corner of his eye.

Suddenly, the door Charles was about to shut simply closed on its own, causing the professor to take a sudden step back. It then locked itself with a metallic click, after which the entire knob itself promptly fell off and clattered onto the floor in front of him. And outside, came a voice entirely different to the one that the professor had been listening to; that of a young, eager student was replaced by an older, slightly raspy yet soothing melodious tone, the kind of voice that drawled on in your ear drums and refused to leave.

“Aeon…” Rico stated, an edge in how he said Charles’ last name, “we can do this the short way… or the long way… entirely up to you, man. I just want to… talk. That’s all, really…”

That voice… Dread dropped into Charles’ stomach the moment the words scratched across his mind as a memory fell from his shelves of memories and burst open. The smell of rustic blood, life deadening from his limbs, and finally his sight fading fast closing in on his attention caused him to flinch. His right foot took a step backwards as his left shortly followed, his legs bolting for the kitchen on pure instinct rather than thought or logic. The sense of dread increased like a dead weight within his gut and seemed to slow him down, despite how much he pushed his limbs to increase their speed.

He jerked around the table then reached for the back door’s knob. The only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between himself and that voice, else he was going to experience nothing but pain again. He was immortal, so death meant nothing. Pain, however, was another matter altogether and something he usually avoided when he could. Yet as soon as he twisted the doorknob, it came off of the door; The temperature of its metal was warm, and getting hotter by the second. But then a familiar rapt on the back door echoed, the first 5 notes of that 7-note riff again…

“Two bits,” Rico finished boredly, his drawling voice slightly muffled by the door.

Charles’ hand dropped the knob when it came off into his palm, the surface sizzling his palm from holding it too long. His mind tried to frantically recall the last time he heard that voice. Inwardly, he hoped it would shed light on the unknown and the fear would fade away. All he got was the sensation of dread getting worse, and twisting more in his middle. It did nothing to help him as he turned back to the door where the knocking had happened.

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to face the fear that lurked there. Yet he didn’t move.

Something was happening here and it was obviously unnatural. His mind was making it difficult to focus while he tried to expand his senses into the house, his hands balled into a fist at his sides and his body stiffened. The ageless man’s eyes scrunched tightly close to shut off the visual side of the fear, but it was only a bandaid to the true chaos of basic human emotion stirring underneath his surface.

Sweat beaded down his brow as his nostrils made a sharp sucking sound when he pulled air into his lungs then exhaled. Something wasn’t right… Something wasn’t right… the phrase repeated over and over in his head, the sensation was doing nothing more than fuel his already roaring fear. Within his little library of memories, the immortal scrambled through the numerous shelves for any assistance he could find. Memories were scanned quickly, pushed on by his heart’s rough pace, then shoved to a pile when they proved useless. What was wrong? Charles asked himself, but the answer seemed to linger just out of his grasp causing him more frustration than terror.

“Leave me alone.” Professor Aeon said in a hardened tone, finally coming up with an answer.

His eyes snapped open while his hands glowed. The fists appeared to be covered in vis that shifted through the metallic color spectrum, much like mother of pearls. Around him, places in his surroundings shimmered and formed into distinct canine shapes about the size of wolf hounds. Their coats were thick and shaggy with thick muscles coiling underneath, their figures slightly transparent. The golems stared with deadpan eyes at the door where the imposter had chosen to remain.

Charles realized that there was likely only way out… and was through the one exit he feared going back to the most.

Rico smirked as Charles manifested his golems. A cerulean beam of light emerged in his mind’s eye, overlaying a mental display on his pupils; It detailed a brief summary of the golems’ expected capabilities, as well as the Vis interactions between them and their creator. The display then vanished, as he mentally willed it away.

“I plan to, Aeon,” Rico stated flatly, “... but this would be over much quicker if we could--oh, what’s the phrase. ‘Have a civil discussion.’ … Yeah, that.”

Aeon’s eyes zoomed onto the door, his reply was nothing more than silence. He didn’t dismiss the golems because he knew once he did, he was left defenseless. His terror rose into his throat and seemed intending on choking him as he began to force himself to move toward the door. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want to turn back or flee, but considering he was stuck in a corner, there was little point in giving into his first instinct now. “If you excuse my assumptions, I have a hard time believing that.”

His hand reached out, scratching tentatively at the wooden grains of the door. “Reasonable, given what happened last time. Yeah, I totally see that, man. And I learned my lesson. A repeat of that would just be… redundant.”

“Would it help if I put myself at your mercy? You seem to like mercy, if I recall,” Rico asked him.

A confused expression crossed Charles’ face for a moment, fighting another flinch when he was reminded Rico was still behind the door. His mind quickly searched for what the man meant about the last time. Gradually, he located the ‘book’ then flipped it open to refresh his memory. The story flowed smoothly until the last few pages which were suddenly blank. He didn’t like this one bit and his fist balled up harder, his nails digging into his palm while he spoke. “I get the feeling it didn’t end so well last time. However, your words indicate you won’t simply leave, a fact that I don’t enjoy very much. It’s surprising you have not already decided to infringe upon my property.”

“Well, you chose how it would end last time. So, you only gotcha self to blame, man,” Rico laughed, ignoring the rest of what Charles said as he leaned against the door.

“But yeah, it’s your house. Invite me in if you wanna get this over with so badly, right?”

Once again, Rico knocked on the door, using that same 7-note tune. He really seemed to like doing that. ‘He seems more interesting this time around. More… malleable, I think? Hmm…’

“Fine. Come in, but be warned… I’ll not tolerate any deception.” Charles stated, his figure stiffened and turned to his hounds. “To heel.”

Satisfied, Rico cracked his knuckles together, arms outstretched. Lowering his arms, he willed the door to open. His eyes were already staring up into Charles’ as it did, as though he knew exactly where they were.

“Thank you,” he stated, as he walked through the doorway with a casual gait.

Rico didn’t seem the least bit wary or nervous as he regarded Charles. “No deception, huh?” he asked, pocketing his hands.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Think I can do that,” he said.

Without warning, the entire image of Rico’s student persona: the hoodie, jeans, and a backpack, it all began to contort and twist like it was some kind of nightmarish plastic; Even parts of his skin writhed, though not his hair or eyes, the latter still trained on the professor as he transformed. Then, like paper being eaten away by little flames, the entire skinweave seemed to just burn off, revealing a tanned skin Rico, muscular, and armor-bound, which matched his dark cobalt hair and eyes. His crystal shone brilliantly with dynamic pulses, as though breathing laboriously, while his Prae tattoos shimmered in the moonlight. More importantly, his Vis no longer registered as human to arcane senses.

“Better?” Rico asked, strolling past him towards the living room, his heavy boots making his presence as a Prae in the flesh much more real for the professor.

Charles forced himself to remain where he was standing, his body cocked where his left side was facing the now revealed Prae. Something about the way his face ‘melted’ away drew a disgusted look and made his lips turn up into a thin line. He should’ve realized it was a Prae that was doing this but strangely, the Vis was now only starting to resemble what was currently infesting his home. It was almost as if Rico had spreaded and merged with the very surroundings, becoming one with it.

His head turned to follow the now revealed Prae into the living room. The hounds stuck close to his figure, careful not to get into his path while the immortal cautiously stepped in the ‘guest’s’ wake as far as the doorway. He spoke, hoping to end this visit soon and move on from it, with a soft accuration to his voice. “Now what reason would require me to have the unwanted pleasure of entertaining a Prae within my own home?”

Rico made himself comfortable on the couch, crossing his legs and looking up at Charles as he spoke. He noted his insistence to remain standing, and nodded. Taking his time, he turned his head aside, glancing down at some nook in the upper chest portion of his armor. A large green apple floated up and right into his hand, which he began to peel somehow with his other hand’s thumbnail. His eyes remained locked on Charles the whole time he did this, as though the Prae was transfixed on the immortal’s innermost thoughts.

“As I promised, I’ll keep this short. I have other things to do, too,” Rico iterated, his hands smoothly carving the apple very slowly and methodically.

He paused deliberately, including his apple-peeling. Not necessarily to keep Charles in suspense--although he didn’t care if it did--but to remind himself of a certain fact that his past experiences taught him about the professor. ’Fate’s already got this guy’s soul in the grinder…’ he mused, sighing lightly through his nose.

He resumed peeling his apple. “I’m blackmailing you, Aeon,” he said plainly, as though such a thing was an every every occurrence.

“For what purpose? I doubt an immortal teacher would have enough influence to aid you in what scheme you might be brewing up.” Charles stated, his voice managing this time to keep calm. Though he wasn’t sure how long he could keep the airs on while within Rico’s presence, his eyes careful not to close and try to soothe his ruffled emotions.

The peeling of the apple didn’t help matters very well causing him to frown at seeing the man ‘peeling’ what he viewed to be symbolically him.

Rico paused at that question, considering it. The string of apple skin hung off the side as his hands ceased moving, his thumbnail almost twitching as it waited to resume. The Prae considered his words carefully.

“Well, I simply would like to ask you to… lead that little resistance group forming up. You know the one, it just had a meeting. Initiated by that … appalling Eximius, Glaedwine,” he said.

Charles blinked then raised his left eyebrow in question. Rico resumed peeling, being halfway done. “I’ll clarify… I want you to become the group’s leader… and lead it. Successfully,” the Prae enunciated, narrowing his eyes at the immortal.

He smirked then; he simply couldn’t help it. ‘Haha, boss, I can feel your jubilations!’ he heard a female voice squeak in his mind. He ignored it, for now. Charles’ next reaction was important, as well as his response to the idea in general. He wasn’t going to miss it.

Charles thought for a moment, then continued. “And why would you think I would be able to do this? My history with conflict often ended with me ‘dying’, then waking up in some field when it was all over. In addition, they already have chosen a leader and so the role you’re asking me to take is already fulfilled.”

Rico cocked his head slightly, taking in the information. He chuckled. “Whether you can pull this off now, or can do so later on… is irrelevant to me. And…” he paused again.

He looked down at the hound at Charles’ heel. “If that is true, then this ordeal for you will simply have to be a work in progress.”

He sighed, looking away at the window, beyond which rain continued dashing the ground. “Even in Paradise, fulfillments seldom fulfill,” the Prae stated cryptically, his voice almost a whisper.

It didn’t make sense to Charles why a Prae, of all beings, wanted him to lead a movement that sought to overthrow the very foundations of the occupation within the city. There had to be some hidden motivation or plot he was missing, but his mind couldn’t grasp what it was within his current state. His arm reached out to brace himself against the door frame and remain standing, his focus returned to Rico’s quiet phrase.

“What does it benefit if it’s me or another leading this movement? There’s little improvement in its success unless that’s what you’re counting on?” The immortal questioned, his eyes hardened at the thought of being a pawn sent in to sabotage something the Prae viewed as a threat.

Rico stopped short of peeling the very last layer of apple skin--one more rotation, and it’d finish. Lowering his meal into his lap, he once again regarded Charles, a look of sincerity in his eyes. Though given Charles’ disposition against him, it would most likely be easily missed.

“It would benefit … your students,” Rico rasped slowly, “as in, they would live, at the very least. I imagine that if someone else took your place--someone without students--well, they’d lose that benefit. Because it wasn’t you.”

His explanation was a little wordier than he’d liked, but Charles was a complete failure at grasping the obvious. Or so Rico believed in this case. He sighed again, through his nose. In any other situation, this wouldn’t be necessary. But sometimes Fate, even in Paradise, had to force one’s hand.

Charles’ fingernails dug into the wood, burying deeply in the delicate design. His face had already drained of any remaining color he had gained during the conversation, causing him to gaze into the Prae’s eyes, who simply stared right back. For a fraction of a moment, the professor had hope to spy some evidence of a bluff but the longer he stared, the quicker he realized it wasn’t. There was dead seriousness within the Prae’s eyes, causing his stomach to twist; It felt like he had eaten razor wire whole.

Killing a whole classroom of students, even mages, would toss both Prae and mankind into a war they weren’t ready for. His next words spoke his disbelief more than actually resisting the offer, his eyes continued to stare with pure horror filling them. “You can’t. They didn’t do anything to you, why.. Why involve them?”

Rico grimaced slightly, though the dead seriousness the professor had witnessed was genuine. His thumbnail severed the last bit of apple skin, its carcass floating around the gleaming, skinned fruit in mid air. The skin returned to that nook in his armor. He then held the fruit up, his arm outstretched towards the professor; The image of Charles lined up with the apple from his point of view.

Rico blinked, lowering his arm. “Because… I can remove an apple’s skin and leave it intact,” he explained extremely calmly, pausing briefly before continuing, “so, the skin need not be involved if the apple simply indulges my designs. It is more peaceful this way. I expect the same from your students, and especially you, Aeon.”

The very strange Prae sitting in the living room of the immortal professor had just likened his clandestine dealings with humanity … to the trivial chore of skinning fruit.

The thought of attacking the Prae developed from Charles’ rage, his eyes heated with the emotion as he glared at the coldhearted being before him. However, he didn’t react to it. He had learned a long time ago when someone held the better hand in a ‘game’ that it was better to fold; Even when he held more questions than answers from the encounter. He inhaled and spoke, his tone fighting back the pure venom he felt toward the Prae. “I do this, you won’t hurt them? How can I fully trust your word on that?”

The sheer animosity spewing from the professor reached into Rico’s mind, forcing him to avoid shuddering with relish. He stood up then, his boots clapping the linoleum floor. He strolled over to Charles, tossing his apple from one hand to the other. He stopped just short of invading the immortal’s personal space and, being 3 inches shorter, stared up at him from underneath his sharp eyebrows.

“Before I answer those questions… hit me with everything you’ve got,” Rico said, tilting his chin up slightly.

Charles’ facial features crinkled up into a perplexed manner, his thoughts trying to understand why such a request would’ve been made. His fingers tensed briefly into a firmer fist then released, forced to straighten out fully, and replied. “No, I rather not give the Prae a reason to imprison me for assaulting one of their own.”

The Prae chuckled weakly before him. “ ‘One of their own’ ” he parroted as he glanced down.

Now it was Rico’s turn to exhibit animosity; Plane-dividing hatred rippled out of the Prae’s Anima, touching upon the immortal’s mind briefly and, for a microsecond, letting him experience a living Hell; Like that moment you feel a match burning your finger. You’d pull away normally, but no, imagine it paused and focused entirely on that moment, experiencing that sensation unceasingly, forever. And although it was directed at Charles, it was hardly about him. Rico inhaled explosively, taking back control and examined its effect on the professor.

Charles was taken by surprise, his mind feeling something out of place and immediately brought him crumpling down to one knee. It wasn’t like anything he could remember feeling, but it caused him to utter a single, knee jerk word. “Attack!”

All six hounds with their eyes upon Rico made a soft, rapid snap of their jaws while they launched themselves at the Prae. Rico reacted like a veteran soldier, his speed honed by centuries of constant combat and pain. He assumed a combat stance, his knees flexed and his dukes up. The first two hounds found their skulls in their stomach as the Prae didn’t just simply punch them, as much as he shoved them down. The next two, in the air and ready to rend his shoulders apart, were tapped along their underbellies by his fingers; Rico shifted underneath them, allowing them to land as his eyes stared down the last pair of hounds. He grabbed their skulls almost entirely with his hands, his Vis having infused the hounds he’d tapped earlier. Using telekinesis, he drew all four golems together, ramming one pair of dogs’ skulls into the stomach of the other two and then bending them all in half for good measure.

He then stood to his full height, his eyes still wide and adrenaline pumping through him.

Charles’ mind tried to analyze what had happened, replaying the scene while grappling with the hatred lingering on him. His breathing was harsh and struggling from the mind wracking experience. The seconds turned into a minute before he was able to push himself upright again. His knees still felt unsteady and wobbled slightly under his weight causing him to grip the frame for support. The immortal’s eyes looked upon the Prae, just standing there patiently, then panned about to note his hounds easily disabled.

A fact that was likely due to his rustiness in his skills as a fighter.

Letting his body calm down, Rico carried on like nothing had happened, because in truth, nothing important did happen from his point of view. “You have my word, Aeon… besides, the last time I tried to take a student of yours, you--ah... well, you transformed into a Licentia? Or something. So I killed you."

At his statement, Charles stared in disbelief at the words even when he heard them clear as day. A Licentia? What the Prae said was impossible because one couldn’t change their own Anima, something that broke nature itself and he doubted the very being standing before him was stupid enough to make that mistake. Curiosity gnawed at him about what had happened the last time they had encountered each and why he couldn’t remember a thing. Shaking his head free of his current focus, he tried to focus on the present before unraveling the past.

He quickly added, "And I'd rather not repeat that experience. It'd obviously be--"

He looked Charles from head to toe, as though hammering his point. "--redundant, like I said earlier..."

“Considering you know it won’t work,” Charles inhaled, then added. “Seeing as I have little choice, I’ll cooperate…”

Rico smirked, tilting his head slightly at the dim professor.

“Good,” he replied simply.

Taking a bite out of his apple, he withdrew all of his Vis out of Charles’ house--simultaneously fixing the door knobs and putting things back--and without a warning, vanished without a trace. Yet his presence remained for a single moment.

‘Also, I’ll check later that you’ve sharpened up. Too rusty, old man,’ Rico’s voice said in Charles’ mind as his presence truly faded.

---

Charles’ eyes glared at Rico with an expression masking his true mental state, his steadiness more a bluff than something solid. For the second time today, the professor’s irises held an uncharacteristically icy aura. It was a reaction fueled by rage, hatred, and a subtle hint of fear as they remained on the Prae. Gradually, Rico removed himself from the immortal’s home at last. Charles didn’t move even when sounds stirred outside and everything seemed to have settled down. The room was back to its pristine status once again.

If Charles didn’t know better, he could easily pass the series of events off as a dream.

Reality had fear shortly replace his earlier fuming causing a cold shiver to trace down Charles’ spine. Rico’s words hadn’t been forgotten as it played in his head over and over, finally dying down and brought only a bitter relief. His time was ticking down now. His jawline tensed when he recalled Rico’s mention about ‘checking in later’ and had little doubt it was to see if he had taken the Prae’s threat seriously.

He edged into the hallway, his mind quietly pondered over the reason why the Prae wanted the Resistance to happen, but he came up short in possible explanations. Gradually, he realized he had arrived at his own bedroom. Charles blinked for a moment, surprised, then turned the knob. The hinges creaked, his shot nerves jerked and immediately he stepped back quicker than he expected to.

The professor’s curly head snapped to the side and observed the sound’s origin, his own rattled mentality had imagined it would lash at him. His heart raced heavily in his chest when his side flared from his wound. Hoping to ease the ache, Charles pressed his hand to his upper torso and felt something wet leak through his shirt. He retracted his hand to reveal the red stains upon his palm and fingers. Weakness, something he’d mistaken for emotional drain earlier, washed over when he realised the cause of his condition. He assumed he reopened his injury when he shot to the floor after Rico’s fury overwhelmed him. Knowing he couldn’t simply ignore this, the immortal pushed forward into his bedroom then lowered himself to his bed. He slid out his emergency first aid kit and removed his bloodied bandages, ignoring the small tremors in his hands.

He proceeded to examine his injury. A small hole, where the table had penetrated beyond his ribs, remained after his visit with Lilith. He noted it had been reopened once more. His fingers reached forward and prodded it gently, spying the reddish white tips of his ribs growing back painfully slowly. It would take a good half a day or more to fully mend itself. This was time he didn’t have to spare when something was happening tonight and would spark a resistance act against the Prae occupation most likely.

Why did such reckless individuals feel the need to rush into action? Charles thought while recalling his revolution experience. He inhaled and rose upright after he tossed the box onto the floor and kicked it back under the bed.

His own condition would have to wait until he arrived at The Twilight Spirit. He had done all he could and there was little more he could until he could acquire the proper tools to speed his healing along. Charles hastily made his way to the closet. He reached in and collected an outfit, switching out his bloodied garments for something fresh. He chose dark jeans, tee-shirt and finally a baggy hoodie to complete the whole attire, tossing them on in his impatience.

Checking that he had his phone and anything else, Charles marched toward the front door. He wanted to leave and now, unable to stand being in the very place that had once been infested with a Prae’s vis. It was humorous to think he once thought it would always be safe here and now reality had completely shattered that comforting belief. Tonight he would need to find another place to sleep, but he doubt his paranoia would allow him to get a good night’s rest. Spiteful by the fact, Charles slammed his front door shut then locked it.

Wordlessly, he paused a moment to study the card given to him before he headed out.



It had been so long since the revolution. The fact become too obvious when Charles arrived at the aged shop, the title The Twilight Spirit in outlandish lettering and appearing to be closed for the night. Not waiting to merely stand there, the professor skirted to the nearby alleyway in order to see any side doors he could knock on without getting attention. The effects from his blood loss would kick in shortly and he wanted to be inside when they did.

Finding a door, Charles’ fist made a fast rap upon the door’s surface. While waiting for someone to open it, he pulled his hoodie up higher and twisted about to lean against the side. The professor carefully kept his arm on his wounded side hanging down and never touched his side, the pain throbbing endlessly. Personally, he found him amazed he could even stand at this point. At this point, the longer he waited… the worse his condition would become. In the end, he hoped he wouldn’t be made to wait too long.

Zeki Glaedwine

Zeki hummed to himself as he set up the shop a little more. He acted more like he was preparing for the day rather than closing it, or leading a citywide rebellion against Prae supression of his kind. Honestly, that hardly bothered him in the least. It was the humans being oppressed that bothered him the most. The plate of brownies in the back almost seemed ironic. They were store bought, as Zeki's cooking could only be described as disastrous. It had actually been the first trip he'd taken to the store in months, nothing he needed could generally be bought at one.

So, as he set out paper plates, a knocking came at the side door of the shop. The sounded turned his mood from happy to elated. He wondered what sort of person it would be. Maybe even a spy. He smirked at the thought. It was early though.

"Let them try. Let them try."

He carefully peaked through the peephole. The door opened immediately, a perplexed look on Zeki's face, who couldn't believe his eyes.

"Professor? I certainly didn't expect to see you arrive early, or really at all to be honest. That's why I love humans, they- My word. What have you gotten yourself into?"

Zeki moved quickly to the man's side (the one he was not currently holding), to help him inside the shop.

"I do think you have a rather curious tale of how you received that. Help from the Prae is always available at The Twilight Spirit."

Once inside, Zeki looked at again at Aeon, indecision in his face. His voice dropped from mirthful to unusually serious.

"How bad is it? If you are here, am I right to assume it was a Prae? Or a lackey? Do you have any... means of healing?"

Shelter, he could provide. Anything more? That depended on the severity. Zeki was hesitant to use any magic, it left him vulnerable. He was also hesitant to lose any potential ally. If it was a government Prae that did this though, hospitals wouldn't be safe. It was how he'd lost his last errand girl. Granted, the hospital trip was more her own fault. Zeki had no knowledge of any of Charles's skills, as far as he knew, he was simply a professor.

---

The sound of doors being pushed roughly open could be heard down the hall from Maria's cell. It was an odd sound, a light clack, clack of what might have been metal or high heels on the stone floors. However it was more distinct, perhaps reminiscent of a dog's claws against tile or wood floor.

It was however, not a woman in heels or a canine creature. No, it was a licentia, and more specifically a harpy. As the guards led her down the hall, she spoke, her voice sensual as she practically hummed with amusement and what might have been pleasure, the guards coughing or telling her to be quiet every once and awhile.

“You know I didn't do anything wrong,” the feminine voice said, the guards seeming to ignore it. “We could have had so much more fun, instead of all this. Of course, perhaps you'd prefer me tied up and at your mercy, mmm?” The Harpy said, her words followed by several coughs. Maria couldn't see it, but the Harpy smiled, her neck curving down and between the shoulders of the two guards in front of her. The glanced at her, then at each other, clearly unsettled by her inhuman appearance. “No? You'd prefer something less exotic? Too bad boys. So unadventurous and boring,” she commented. One of them elbowed her in the stomach, eliciting a light grunt. It served to keep her quiet for exactly no time at all. “Well isn't that rude, though I admit I like things a bit more rough than one of your human women,” she giggled, the sound of her voice, and the footsteps of the guards drawing closer to Maria's cell.

After another moment of banter, if you could call the licentia talking at the guards banter, Maria would hear a door across from her open, a harsh shove and squeal, before the door was slammed shut again. The licentia cooed out, her neck allowing her to slip her head between the bars of the door, “Come back soon boys or I'll get lonely~”

One of them yelled “Shut up already monster!” back at her, and the result was a high pitched laugh, that led into a shriek that was more than a little harsh on the ears before the harpy pulled her head back into her little room and gazed between the bars at the room across from her.

There would be a long time of silence following the guard's exit, which was punctuated by the slam of another set of doors and then a mechanical buzzing noise as the automatic locks kicked in and the security systems reset. After a minute or so had passed, the harpy's clawed appendages came up and grasped at the barred 'window' of her cell, before she stuck her head through again and looked to see if she had any other neighbors.

She didn't.

Disappointed, the harpy glanced across from her and changed her angle to reveal what appeared to be a human female. A smile came across her lips. “What's your name, mmm? Mine's Drisrea.” She called across the hall, her words aimed at the girl. She was a curious and sociable creature, if not very respectful of people's personal space, a concept that she didn't entirely understand. Hopefully the girl wouldn't keep quiet, otherwise her time here—however brief—would be quite dull...and Drisrea hated dull.

It was why she did what she did after all. That and the freedom to harass and upset hundreds, feed at her leisure, and free hundreds of poor imprisoned fools, regardless of race.

Oh how she loved her job, not to mention the classy fellow who had given it to her. Hopefully he wouldn't be stingy this time and they'd get to meet up. After all, she was craving some attention, and it was hard for her to get others to give it to her. Perhaps the girl would at least distract her from that craving.

For a time.

---

---

Blue-green eyes stared out onto the relative darkness of the city streets as he walked from rooftop to rooftop, shifting through shadows, not missing a step in the least. Obstacles meant nothing to him as rooftop radiators and even walls phased through his incorporeal form or he stepped through a shadow to circumvent them. Of course, all that was second nature, inconsequential. His focus was somewhere else.

His focus lay on the plan. The grand scheme and all the steps involved in it. To him each footfall was another step taken in a grander scheme. Each glance a calculated look to take in information, understand his surroundings, to understand the city, to understand the lay of the land. It was all to know where he fought, so he could know among who he would dwell and how they could be pushed so the dominoes fell...one by one.

He chuckled lightly to himself as he materialized a silver lighter from the shadows of his form, giving it functionality with a bit of magic, before he extracted a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up, drawing in a deep pull of the smoke and holding it a moment before pushing it out, the feel of the smoke oddly pleasant as it rolled and sifted through his false lungs, the essence of the material moving through his body as it was absorbed into his blood and sent throughout to the rest of his organs. His smile remained as he gazed up into the night sky a moment, letting the moment take him.

For a time he let his mind drift, the world falling away, his plans escaping him, his thoughts falling to pieces as he enjoyed the heavy feeling of smoke in his body, and the lightheadedness it brought to his brain. He chuckled, the sound deep and sonorous as it escaped his lips and met the night air. It was all an illusion, a fabrication. Every part of him, the organs, the skin, the flesh, hair, eyelashes. Every cell, every blood vessel, was a construct crafted from his vis, from his anima.

It was, it existed, but it was not real none of it was vital in the same way it was for a human or a prae....

A scowl crossed his face and he turned and spat on the ground at the mere thought of the deluded creatures. “Disgusting,” he commented, looking down into an alley where a homeless man lay in his own filth and squalor. Yet, it was not the human that disgusted him, nor the filth. It wasn't even the prae as a species. It was how they behaved and what they had done. His eyes narrowed, momentarily losing their humanity as his entire body began emitting wisps of jet black smoke as if a fire burned just beneath the surface of his flesh. Then he a took a deep breath, the smoke receded, he became solid once more, and a smile spread across his face, a small glance at the moon making it widen, a hint of genuine happiness in his eyes for a moment before he resumed his stroll across the rooftops of Ominar.

The thought of his dear sister always helped in moments like these. Thoughts of her...and the delicious web of deceit, destruction, and revenge he was weaving for the prae.

Having grown tired of his cigarette, the nightwalker took it from his mouth, looking at it as he walked, his vis flowing into every molecule that made it up. He glanced at its shadow, and suddenly an idea struck him, his eyes shifting to the nearest shadow before he took a step onto it, his entire body folding and becoming incorporeal smoke, before it was gone entirely.

Moments later he emerged on the other side of the city, a cell phone in hand, the number already dialed. He took he began to move his hand from the device, but instead it duplicated, leaving one arm to hold the phone, while a new one was freed for other activities.

He thought nothing of it. It was normal, after all.

Taking the cigarette into his new hand he began weaving patterns over it with his left arm. While he did so, the phone rang, and eventually someone picked up.

“Hello? Who is thi--” the voice began, but the nightwalker had no time for pleasantries.

He interrupted him, “Light. Spider. Twenty three. Jaywalker. Support. Flame. Wraith Five,” he said, before falling silent. For a whole ten seconds there was no response, before the call abruptly ended. The nightwalker smiled slightly, waiting a whole minute, still weaving a spell into the cigarette while he did so, before his phone rang and he immediately picked up.

“What is it Szayeis? You know it's dangerous to call me.”

Laughing, his tone casual and entirely unbothered, Szayeis replied. “Of course it's dangerous, Haesari, but living is dangerous, especially when you're me.” The prae on the other end made a noise, and from it Szayeis knew he had frowned.

“Don't worry, I called for a reason. I need to know what preparations our favorite little Exeo is making for my arrival. Would you care to tell me, little one.” There was an audible swallow on the other end. Szayeis smirked.

“Of course. Um, so far she has put the hunters on high alert, as well as spread some information through the ranks of her private forces, and her agents positioned in police departments that you'll be arriving.”

Szayeis scoffed, his steps taking him closer to a certain store as he replied, “Yes, and she still breaths. All of these things are common sense for me. This is nothing new. Now, little one, please tell me what she's done that was, mmm...let's call it unexpected.” There was a moment of silence, “Well?”

“Um.... Well, earlier today she.... She asked me to contact the Broker.”

The nightwalker's eyes gleamed and a manic look entered his gaze, his lips parting slightly, widening his smile further. “Oh did she now, and what did she want him to do for her? Do tell.”

“She...she wanted him to retrieve a certain human magi. A professor at the Institute. I believe his name was Dranai Llamant.”

“Interesting.”

“He's a world class illusionist.”

“Wonderful.”

“Wh-what?”

“Well, I had wondered if this would be any fun Haesari. What with my talents and overwhelming mastery of the hearts and minds of others. Well, I thought that perhaps there would be no game. No interplay between enemy forces, no dance, but instead just a droll play by play. Monotonous, dull...boring.”

“I...I don't. You wanted this to be hard?”

Szayeis chuckled in response as he finished his spellwork, the duplicated arm dissolving into particles of wispy vis before being pulled back into him and vanishing. “No. I wanted a challenge and it seems that maybe, just maybe our little Exeo may be up for a bit of a...mmm, party~. Regardless, it doesn't concern you.”

“But what if she--....”

“She won't.”

“But...” he stammered nervously.

“She won't. Trust me. Now, little one, go home and sleep.”

“A-alright.”

“Goodbye Haesari. Shadow six,” he finished, and with that the prae went silent and then hung up. Chuckling to himself, the nightwalker turned his eyes to the street below him before briefly closing them, his awareness shifting before his perception opened up, revealing countless streets and countless buildings and people throughout the city. Ah how he loved the night.

After taking a moment to orient himself, he noted the street signs nearby, before opening his eyes and ending the vision. He didn't need those senses just yet, he had gotten what he wanted.

Glancing down the street he found a building taller than the rest and traversed the shadows to find himself atop it, where he perched, standing at the edge of the roof, looking down at a building he knew to be a quaint little shop called the Twilight Spirit. He smiled, dialed a number on his phone, and then pocketed it, waiting.

It appeared the meeting was yet to begin and so his first act could not proceed, but when things were well in motion...he would act, and the result would be...explosive.

When that time came, he would relish it, for it would mean something wonderful. It would mean the true beginning of the end for his foe. It would mean the end for the prae, but as their reign fell to shambles, he would build his upon it.

When he was done, the prae would speak his name in whispers and the world would tremble at his feet.

---

"Professor? I certainly didn't expect to see you arrive early, or really at all to be honest. That's why I love humans, they- My word. What have you gotten yourself into?"

“You act like I planned this…” Charles muttered in annoyance, his lips frowned at Zeki when the Licenti moved to his side. Seeing little choice in the matter, the professor lifted his free arm then place it around the ‘man’s’ neck. He fought the impulse to recoil from the touch and forced himself to lean into Zeki without betraying his distrust.

When Zeki moved, Charles moved with him. Each step hurt and caused more pain when it jarred his frame, his shoes scuffed across the wooden floor into the shop. He leaned more heavily into Zeki than intended, weakness travelled up his spine and into his limbs as they threaten to give away now that the adrenaline had died down. The last time he had been this terrible was when he tried to burn himself to ashes and that lasted a week, at least.

"I do think you have a rather curious tale of how you received that. Help from the Prae is always available at The Twilight Spirit."

The door closed behind him, Charles noted the shop keeper’s look was conflicted. A commonly used gesture, the immortal had learned it led to either trickery or secrets best never revealed to him. Both usually terrible when they crossed his path as he slid upon the nearest chair, allowing him to shift to an angle and release press on one side.

"How bad is it? If you are here, am I right to assume it was a Prae? Or a lackey? Do you have any... means of healing?"

When the Licenti’s tone dropped to something completely different from his earlier demeanour, Charles eyebrow arched at the offer.

“To answer your question, in order. First, my ribs are cracked and been shoved in by a table leg as if it was a stake. I’ve reopen it again after I arrived home and I doubt that helps in the least. Second, yes it was a Prae.”

Pausing for a moment, Charles lifted his hoodie up to reveal his wrapped torso. The white wrap had been tinted pinkish from the wound, the opening had finally started to clot. He didn’t like the weakness spreading any farther and it would if he kept on bleeding, his mind relieved to realize it would stop shortly. He talked through gritted teeth to contain his painful experience in his tone rather than spill into his word choice. “Third and final, yes. I’m immortal and so have a regeneration factor. The bad part, it seems I traded healing speed for quantity so I can survive quite a bit of damage but a wound like this will take anywhere from a day to three to heal.”

Charles sharply inhaled then exhaled, continuing a bit more. “Magical healing can speed the process up, but right now… I have only one spell on healing and I’m in no condition to use it. So, my options are merely changing the wrapping often, keep the wound clean and take it easy. Do you have any medical supplies which I can do that with? And possibly painkiller?”

---

Departing the meeting, Mairyell walked with his sister, and while they did not hold hands or walk arm-in-arm there was an air of closeness about them. The hunter sighed contently, wrapping an arm around Aeris' waist after they'd made some distance between themselves and the Resistance's first gathering. He squeezed her gently against his form, keeping her close for awhile before letting her walk as normal, mostly so as not to draw too much attention.

His hands slipped into his pockets and his head tilted back as he looked at the moon, which was barely visible in the night as a tiny crescent-shaped sliver in the sky. It was a beautiful night, if ever so slightly chilly, not that such things bothered him much, what with his unique physiology. Enjoying the silent presence of his sister, the vampire ran through a series of different possibilities for the Resistance. Aeris had been right, it could very well start a war...though, he wondered why she thought it would go down that road. He glanced at her for a moment, before looking away, smiling to himself.

Finding himself a tad hungry Mairyell and Aeris made a stop at a small hidden building, that one would have had much difficulty finding in the center of Ominar. It was a vis dispensary, a place wherein vis was obtained legally and sold to licentia so they could feed without disturbing the peace. Mairyell bought two quarts of blood, drank it, taking in the vis within it and distilling the liquid into more energy as it passed through his body. When he was done he had only a single bottle's worth of the stuff, and this he stowed away, giving Aeris a brief smile, implying they could enjoy it later.

With this done he made his way to the location of the second meeting, which ended up being a store called the Twilight Spirit. With Aeris in tow, he walked around to the side door and knocked. While he waited his nose picked up the distinct scent of blood...yet, he couldn't quite put his finger on what sort of blood. After a moment or two he surmised that it must have just been a human with a unique scent. With that put to rest, he frowned at the door. Hopefully Roger, or whomever was letting them in, wasn't going to take much longer.

Click. Click.
”Ah, Mr Strannika, I presume?”
“Correct.”
”And for what reason have you come to speak to Doctor F. today?”
“You know I despise people who talk in third person, Ferdinand. And you aren’t exactly in high standing with me at this point in time.”
”Miri, please. We are both frie-.”
“Acquaintances, Ferdinand. Acquaintances.”
”Does it really matter, Mr. Strannika?”
“It does, as friends implies a mutual enjoyment of each other’s company.”
”Witty as ever, Miri. What do you want?”
“Ferdinand. Ferdy. ‘Doctor F’. Ferd and the Furious. Is it still true you are fairly influential in this little community of ours?”
”Why, yes. And the same goes to you.”
“And, Ferdinand, is it not true you owe me quite a bit for stopping your assassination?”
-A sigh is heard- “Why, yes Miri. I am in quite a bit of debt to you due to the particulars of our business.”
“I am asking a favor, Ferdinand. You, using your influence, prevent any Prae officials from getting far enough to hire an assassin, let alone actually acquire their services. You can do this for me, can’t you?”
”Damn you, Strannika. I suppose I could pull a few strings. Let me see what I can do."
“Also, Ferdy, do you have any info on the resistance meeting thats going on right about now?”
”Yes, what of it?”

The meeting went better than expected. Ferdinand hadn’t put up much of a fight, which wouldn’t be surprising to anybody except Miri, who didn’t know how much his former “coworkers” still respected him for what he pulled off. Alas, Miri was unaware of many things. The night was still young, but not young enough. Miri had missed a vital resistance meeting. How unfortunate. He knew there would be a second one, though. Miri syn Strannika would not allow his agenda to crumble due to him waking up late this morning. No, he was far too stubborn. Pulling out a scrap of paper he had acquired from Ferdinand, he knew the address and the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t arrive late this time.

Miri weaved his way through back alleyways, waving at various individuals he had encountered on his travels. Now, Miri didn’t know this, but one of his old friends had moved out of their longtime apartment, and the new owner was a bit of a neat freak. And so, the stairway leading down from the primary apartment entrance was pretty slippery. So, in typical fashion, Miri fell headfirst down the stairs. Ow. He stood up, peeved. What kind of asshole felt so wholeheartedly entitled that they thought cleaning their stairs was a good idea? Miri quickly stood up, and slammed on the door of the apartment.

”Hmm?”
Miri promptly hit the owner with a right hook and stormed away…
God. What a jackass. He might even be late to the meeting now. Cleaning stairs. What a menial and overall useless task. Miri syn Strannika, possibly last of his proud and somewhat heathen heritage, would not be ended by a mere flight of stairs.

Miri, after becoming quite lost due to disorientation (Falling down a flight of stairs never does anyone good in that department) managed to make his way to the Twilight Spirit. The air smelled of iron. He realized the front door probably wasn’t going to be the entrance to the super top secret meeting of the rebellion, and so circled the building and found a side entrance, along with two others. Famous? Licentia for sure, but other than that he was positive he had seen their faces somewhere. Rather, one of their faces. Maybe a former coworker….no. She seemed far too regal to be part of his former business. The man standing next to her (Sibling, perhaps?) seemed a much more likely candidate. It seemed one of the two was going to leave soon. Might as well try to start a conversation.

Miri approaches the two in a confident manner.

“So, you guys here for the meeting? I’m just going to assume so, as this alley is deserted and this shop doesn’t look like a front for drug trafficking.”

As Aeris and her brother left the meeting, the woman couldn't help but glance in his direction. Iridescent blue eyes watched him, scrutinized his face and body, searching for something she couldn't quite put a finger on. It wasn't until he put his arm around her waist that her gaze became a little less... piercing. She relaxed into his side, her head resting against his shoulder as they walked to their next destination. She didn't even bother to move when he relinquished his grip on her, preferring the closeness to anything else.

They walked in silence for most of their trek. Even when Mai stopped in on a Vis Dispensary to get some fuel, no words were exchanged. ONly the silent promise to share a pint when the time arose.

When they finally reached their destination, Aeris stood silently next to her brother, watching the door intently. However, just as she was about say something a familiar pang resonated through her body, leaving her breathless for a moment. With a small grunt the woman reached out and gently tugged on Sanguine's shirt to get his attention momentarily.

For a moment or two, she didn't say anything, allowing herself to catch her breath. Finally, she sighed, glowering through her brother rather than at him. "Szayeis is here. I can feel him. He's not that far away." Her sentences were clipped, her words curt. Her meaning would get across to him nonetheless: An implied apology, and irritated good-bye.

Seconds ticked by like minutes as she waited for any kind of response from Mairyell before finally just raising herself on the tips of her toes to kiss him en full in front of any passersby.

Just as she was pulling away, a voice from the other end of the alley caught her attention, the feeling of Szayeis being nearby had drowned out any other vis presence she might've felt.

She did not deign to reply, simply looking at the new arrival with her face partially eclipsed by Mairyell's own.

---

Maria's spacing out was interrupted by the sound of a new inmate being brought in. She didn't get up at first, most of the time, it was the same story, angry prisoner struggling as the guards shoved them down a hall, then being thrown in screaming obscenities, then they'd give up in the hole they were in. Most didn't even really give the struggle thing a real try. At least Maria had managed to get two teeth. She went back to spacing out before she heard something... laughter? That was a first. Maria got up, a perplexed look in her eyes as she watched the guards throwing someone in, who seemed to be getting a kick out of it. It was the second person she'd heard told to shut up, normally the guards were oblivious to being sworn at.

It took Maria a minute to really even notice the person was a Licentia. She was so used to living around them, she hardly saw the difference anyways. Sure this one had feathers, but what was the big difference between that and a human.

"Me name's Maria. I'd say nice to meet'cha, but t'is place is the Tom Tit. Bet roaches 'ave better 'omes. Foods terrible. W'at you doing bird for? Piss off some Prae? Not quite sure why I'm 'ere, meself. Some hunters broke into my 'ouse, and I kinda shot'em dead, but I'd consider t'at self defense. Also ran some packages for some store, didn't like t'at. I dunno. I think the Prae just kinda hate me and me old man. Pretty sure t'at's why most of us are here, only a few people in here for stuff like half-inchin' stuff, or actual murder."

Tilting her head slightly, eyes lighting up, which was a strange occurence considering the entirety of her sclera was black, with her pupils being little black points inside of white circles. Her irises had gray layers instead of colors like a human eye, though the patterns were similar. "Oh, I'd say it's nice to meet you, even if we're meeting here," she said in response, sounding oddly perky despite being, well, imprisoned.

She turned to gaze down the hall, tilting her head to listen as Maria continued. She smiled, not understanding much of the lingo, but getting the jist of things from context instead. "Yeah, pissed off some prae is about right for what I did. Of course, they're really just throwing me in here because I'm a licentia. Isn't that cute?" She glanced at Maria's cell, a smile spreading over her lips, her eyes brimming with amusement and joy as a slight pinkish blush came over her face. She apparently hadn't been sarcastic.

"Nonetheless, it's all kind of silly I think. You shouldn't be here either and I bet a bunch of the nice men and women we passed on our way here shouldn't be either. Sure they were rowdy and a few grabbed at my feathers, but I don't mind that. It's no reason to keep someone locked up, ya know? Hehe. Still, it shouldn't be long," she said cryptically, before pulling her neck and head back into her cell and sitting down on the supplied bench.

She brought a hand to the wall, caressing the material and attempting to push vis into it.

No response. Her smile remained. "So what do you plan on doing when you get out, Maria?" The way she said it, she sounded as if there was a good chance they'd all get released one day. Odd, considering there was no real reason that she ought to think that.

The strange licenti woman's serenity was a bit confusing to Maria.

"Oi, what'cha mean it isn't going to be long? Do ya got some contacts or the like? Are ya with the resistance too?"

The Licenti's question silenced Maria for a second, as she actually gave some thought to it? What would she do? She couldn't exactly go right back to her gun store. Even the slums were starting to become well scoured, how she ended up here. She didn't want to go back to delivering packages either now that she'd been arrested. She'd said at the time she didn't want any trouble, and had found it anyways.

"Well, to be 'onest, t'ink I'd probably end up back up 'ere again. Ya see, me old man got 'imself doing bird too, and I think I'd try and bust'im out. Or do something, anything to get back at the bloody Prae. 'e was right, bunch of berks, the whole lot. I was 'appy just running packages and the like before. Now, I'm a wee bit mad at'em."

For a second, Maria imagined having a gun in her hand, and assumed the pose of a shooter, aiming at the nearest guard way down the hall, firing 3 times. It was excessive, but pretty much spoke about what her plan was.

"What 'bout you? That smile and such makes me think ya got something planned? If the resistance is breaking us out, Imma help, that's for sure. I ain't no flamin' conjurer or the like with magic, but get me a gun, and I'll do alright."

What Maria didn't say was her 'alright' probably placed her as one of the strongest sharpshooters in Ominar.

"Resistance, mmm, you could say that," she smiled, and the expression stretched from ear to ear, further accentuating the fact that she was certainly not human. Listening to the rest of Maria's little rant, glad to hear her sympathetic disposition towards the Resistance, she tapped her chin thoughtfully with a finger even as her another finger tapped the stone of her cell. She smiled again, this time less grotesque, "I think I'll find something to eat. Probably just some artificial stuff, nothing from anyone living," she commented a bit absentmindedly, tilting her head, eyes closing. It gave her face the appearance of a porcelain mask with black lines for mouth and eyes, simple, but still evoking expression.

"As to connections, hehe. I don't need connections for this place. It's not even a special containment facility and they didn't know who I was when they apprehended me. Just thought me a petty licentian thief." She laughed, the staccato burst of sound erupting into the hallway and filling it with her glee.

Her finger grew a claw as she exerted her will upon her body, before she began to use it to scratch markings in the wall of her cell, which was a bizarrely silent activity. Perhaps the walls wouldn't allow her to use vis to break them, but they had absorbed and attempted to disperse it well enough. This would do. "So let's just keep up this little chat, mmm? Give the guards no reason for suspicion," she smiled, her eyes narrowing in a conspiratorial expression, her voice loud enough only for Maria to hear. It was odd, even despite her friendly, even bubbly, personality there was something predatory about her gaze. It was probably just a side-effect of her species.

At least...hopefully.

Maria was rather used to Licentia, having grown up with them for the majority of her life. Still, the look made her nervous, Licenti who used it tended not to have good thoughts.

Maria then looked around, and shrugged. On second thought, the look had better damnwell grow. It wasn't a max prison, but the hungrier the better.

"Eh, think ya got plenty of real stuff right 'ere. Then again, stuff 'ere's Tom Tit...." She paused as she realized her lingo would probably be lost. Normally, she didn't care too much, she was who she was no matter who was around. What beauty she may have had was lost by her utter lack of charm.

"I mean... all the food 'ere's all shit. The stuff they give us, and the guards I'm sure'd be the same."

Hearing the part about the little chat, Maria nodded, and decided to at least have a friendly conversation.

"So, where ya from? Don't think I ever seen you round me part of the slums. Place is crawling with Licentia. Knew a real nice couple called the Sylph's right next door. They were 'arpies too. Took care of me when hunters were chasing me. Other t'an t'at, I work in a gun store.... worked. Could say it's a bit of a hobby of mine. Aaaand t'at's me life story. Other t'an t'at, not much to tell."

Tilting her head at the woman's use of what sounded like a name, Drisrea found herself, surprisingly for the first time in their conversation, a bit confused. Then Maria clarified and she smiled again, nodding, "Well, they have stuff I'm sure, but I don't expect them to be giving me proper rations within the next couple of hours. After all...I'm just a licentia," there was an uncharacteristic bitterness in her voice as she said it, likely giving anyone who cared to pay attention a glimpse of how most licentia felt about the prejudice against them of late. After all, just as the prae were--not that Drisrea thought them worthy of it--the licentia were by and large a proud people, even if they didn't always get along with one another.

She continued carving glyphs into the wall, the motion becoming faster now as she got the hang of it, some muscle memory kicking in even as new ideas for her little plan did so as well. She took up using two more fingers, using one to imbue vis into the wall, which the runes trapped. She smiled at that, things were going well. "Mmm, little old me? I'm from a little country in Torqueo. Calls itself Meituran, capital city Dresza, where I was born," she smiled fondly as she spoke of it, "Nice place to live honestly. Not much power or influence really, but it's comfortable living and you don't have to watch your back as much. Less likely for someone to take a bite out of ya there," she laughed lightly, as if the idea of someone eating you was as normal and civilized to her as guns were familiar to Maria. Speaking of guns, "So you've got some skills with firearms, mmm? That's useful~" she purred. Already one whole wall of her cell, from top to bottom, as at times her face would disappear and the flapping of wings could be heard as she flew up and drew more of the symbols upon the wall.

She began work on the next wall, using small amounts of magic to direct the sound of her voice so as not to arise suspicion from the guards. They'd been fools not to do a background check. Sometimes the prejudice was a useful thing, she thought a bit pensively, enjoying the irony at the prae's expense--it felt good. "Sounds like you had a rough time, Maria. I know those hunters can be a pain sometimes, sorry it had to happen to you, but hey, look at it this way, now you've experienced more. Maybe there's something you'll learn from all this! Oh, and you can never look back and say your life was boring, don'tcha think?" She didn't even consider for a moment that having a boring life, to a human, might be--in its way--a good thing. The idea was, as personal space, a foreign concept to her. Of course, she was only 42, still a child--if that--by licenti standards, though a very well accomplished one. Of course, the idea of 'child,' was quite a bit more expansive to her kind than it was to humans.

"Eh, if ya don't get proper rations, feel free to take from me. 'gain, not like I'm a flamin' conjurer, not like I need much. And don't get any ideas, I know ya can do it from that cell."

Maria patted her shoulder at the offer, showing she wasn't taking about food. She'd lived next to Licentia long enough to know what they ate. In some ways, she was a bit too sympathetic to them. Not towards prae however. She'd rather see the lot of them at the bottom of the ocean. Licentia hadn't tried to arrest her, or take over her city. Sighing about rations, Maria looked at the cold slump of food still on her tray. With obvious irritation, she started eating as Drisrae started her tale. If she was going to give that offer, she had to keep up her strength. That, and she couldn't tell what, but there was something mischevious about that Licenti. She rather liked it. Something was going to happen soon, it was a promise in her voice. Maria hated magic, but at this point, she hated Prae more. She nearly gagged on the food..

"Tom tit...."

Turning back to Drisrae, Maria listened to her backstory. From Torqueo? Why on earth was she in this hellhole? Eh, was her business. Then she mentioned the firearms. With a gulp of food, Maria proudly nodded her head.

"Aye, every bird's got to protect themselves. I 'ate magic. I wanna rely on meself and what I can build and know, so yeah, not too shabby a gunner. At this point though, anything that gets me outta 'ere welcome. Me old man didn't believe in violence, and look, he's in the same place as me. Think I'd fancy meself living an 'interesting' life. So, what interesting things ya got planned? I ai't no genius or nuttin, but you're doing somet'ing over there."

She tilted her head slightly, finishing a series of runes before landing on the ground and slipping her head through the bars. "You know, you are an interesting human, though many of your kind are, mmm, fun in their own ways. I like you," she smiled, though this time it was softer, less grotesque and overaccentuated, much more...normal. She drew away, pulling her neck and head back into her cell before she began her task again. "I've got a little thing called a rebellion planned. Something of a wake up call for the prae and humanity alike. Hehe...of course, it's not my plan." She chuckled to herself, claws meeting stone repeatedly in precise movements while her wings flapped just as silently as her claws dug into the stone--the lack of sound in both actions the result of the same spell.

"As to me personally, hehe. I just, I just want to see everyone dance. I want to see the vision that a...friend of mine brought to light," she giggled a little and the sound was both like and unlike the laugh of a young girl as she confessed to her crush and then ran off. It was eerie in its way, if only because of the being it came from. "Anyways, I like focusing on the moment...speaking of which." She landed, pulling her claw from the wall as she turned and stuck her neck through the bars of the small window on the door of her cell. "I'm done," she said, beaming across the hall at Maria, looking altogether quite pleased with herself.

"Of course...I've got to wait for the signal," she frowned at the thought, before smiling again, her claws withdrawing into her fingers as they reformed without them before moving to grip the bottom edge of the window. The metal creaked slightly as her grasp dug in, before her grip relaxed. "Oh man do I hate waiting. Too much tension, you know? I prefer being right in the thick of things! You? Do you prefer fight or flight? I'd bet flight," she nodded vigorously, the comment meant as a compliment of sorts.

Maria finished choking down the 'food'. Gagging, she turned to Drisrae.

"Nah, I didn't get involved cause of me old man, tried the running thing. But, if he's doin' bird, and I'm doin' bird, ain't no sense in running after t'is. Guess you could say both though. I dun care how good of a sorcerer or Prae ya are, a shot from a PTRS fired when ya're in bed will make ya nice and sleepy. I dun have magic, but I'd like to give humans a little bit of credit. Made a nice lil' gun I'm dying to see tested. Got a wee bit of kick to it. I'd just have to get into my old shop. Love to see a sorcerer block that hahahaha!"

Maria's hand made the motion of pumping a shotgun as she spoke. She was definitely a little.... fond of firearms. It was big talk for someone who had never consciously pulled the trigger on someone before.

Maria's laughter quickly turned to grabbing her stomache as dinner threatened to reappear.

"Whose ya friend anyways? He'd better hurry on his signal, mine's got one lined up too."

She looked at the bars.

"Aaaany day now."

She sighed deeply.

"Just count me in..."

The licentia smiled, "Oh trust me, I'm just as eager as you are to get out of here and get things started, but this'll require just a liiiiittle bit of patience. Give it...mmm, maybe an hour or two max, probably much less though. As to my friend, well, that's a secret~" Her smile shifted to a grin, her fingers wrapping tight around the bars on the window of her cell door. She'd stay there, eyes expectant, for as long as it took.

However, as soon as the signal came...well, they'd see.

They'd all see!

---

Cold interrupted by hot, uncomfortable rigidness, hard edges poking into his back and sides, taut ropes constricting his wrists and ankles; specifically designed gloves to stop any motion from his fingers, pushing them together with unforgiving force. He opened his eyes and groaned, shifting in place, finding himself seated on some kind of bench. He'd been leaning/sleeping against a table, which explained the hard edges and marks he knew were forming—though they would fade given time. He took stock of his person, immediately noticing that his Focus had been taken from his person...likely stowed elsewhere.

Straightening up, the professor glanced around the room, finding it had only one exit and certainly not a window in sight. Instead it was stone overlaid with wood panels for décor. There were two pictures hanging on the wall, one depicting what appeared to be a licentia wreathed in inky black vis, roaring at the moon as two armies, one on either side of the being, rushed forth, claws, magic, and weapons bared. The other picture, Dranai noted, with his frown deepening as he did so, was of an abstract swirl of patterns, not unlike what he visualized when working magic.

It was then that a wave of disorientation and small aches and pains hit him almost as if something had been holding them back. He keeled over, head hitting the table a little—not enough to hurt. His vision blurred for a moment as the pain went through him in waves. He gritted his teeth and felt tears in his eyes as he struggled to take in breath...and then he saw Bree, and it all receded.

The man had a serious expression on his face, lips in a taut line, eyebrows level, eyes...cold. Dranai's jaw muscles, despite the pain having ceased, flexed as he felt a tight feeling constrict his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to consider what to say, only to find that words escaped him and that his mouth and throat were unspeakably dry. He began consciously moving his tongue in his mouth as he straightened his posture. After a moment he managed to find words, “Could I have some water at least...?”

His captor, the infamous Dealbreaker, nodded curtly and left the room, moving out of sight. Dammit all, thought the professor, ...not only did he fucking kidnap me for who knows what reason, but he appears to not be the version of himself that I know. Not even a chance of good will in him. He gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply before the dull thumps of the man's boots told him that the Broker had gotten his drink.

A moment later he came into sight, the same cold eyes and taut lips defining his expression and current disposition. Thanking the Broker, he raised his hands and held the cup, though he had to use both hands due to his restraints, before bringing the water to his lips and parching his thirst, banishing the dryness in his mouth and throat. After another sup or two he put the cup down on the table. The Broker made no move to take it...much to his relief.

With that bodily distraction out of the way, Dranai, with no time to waste, began two trains of thought before using a third to meet Bree's eyes, narrowing his own, before he opened his mouth to speak. “You must know this was unwise,” he began, honest annoyance, a measure of fear, and not a small amount of anger lacing his tone.

One corner of Bree's lips twitched upwards...a smirk, if but a passing one. Good, he could get him to react, though the smile was not terribly helpful.

Dranai took note of the expression and used his peripheral vision and impeccable memory to recall if he'd seen any markings on the walls, ceiling, floor, or table of his...prison. There weren't.

He almost smiled. It appeared that Bree had not been careful enough. He would pay for his oversight. After all, he was not dealing with an apprentice mage, but instead a master.

“It's almost funny how ya seem ta think that you've got any power in our current arrangement,” the Broker quipped, no smile crossing his features, his eyes cold. Dranai took no time to reply as his mind directed two totally different patterns of vis into his face, tongue and toes. He began moving his toes within his shoes, unseen, weaving little patterns and exuding trace amounts of vis. Each movement of his face was similar, except those movements he connected to his normal expression shifts and speech. “Is it really so amusing, Broker? After all, last time you regretted it. That is...unless you've forgotten.” His tone was grave, eyes accusing and harsh as he met the Broker's gaze.

“If I remember correctly I cost you thousands in potential favors and in actual job payments for a solid two years after you crossed me. I really have no trouble doing it again, it wasn't very hard, and I admit that it was very...cathartic.” At his words, the Broker's lips turned downwards slightly, the beginnings of a frown. Good.

Then he took a step, sudden, and his hand lurched out, wrapping its fingers around Dranai's neck, tight, but not enough to choke. His mind froze completely, his spellwork interrupted, but he managed to continue the thread of one of them just before it dissipated. “You really shouldn't threaten the man whose got your life in his hands. Do I make m'self clear, professor?” Bree's eyes were narrowed and only inches away, his breath hot as it tickled the hairs of Dranai's neck, sending cold shivers down his spine. It smelled of spirits.

Their little...staring contest lasted for a whole minute before Dranai managed a stiff nod and Bree retreated, letting go of his throat. He swallowed hard, not even having to feign the fear he felt. Taking in a deep breath he made an effort to calm himself. Bree gave him a peculiar look before backing up back into the door frame, and then leaving the room entirely. He heard the sound of the man looking for something as he moved who knows what out of the way.

Dranai took it as his chance to act. First he re-positioned himself and resumed the working of his second spell as the first was completed and prepped for activation. After several seconds counted down, about ten or so, he heard the sounds in the other room cease and boots approach his location.

Taking a deep breath before acting he let his first spell activate and as it did so all his restraints—rope and hand-clamps-- burst into flames that touched him not at all. When the ropes were gone he placed his hands beneath the table before Bree entered the room. He was carrying what appeared to be handcuffs...except, they had rune engravings. Dranai had no intention of letting those damned things touch him, so instead he met the Broker's eyes and then smiled as he let his spell loose. His hands shot up as if to hit the table, but instead a powerful force exuded from them, a shockwave caused by heat differentials created by his first spell, causing the table to fly full force through the air and into the Broker's chest, sending him back through the doorway as the table collided with it and splintered. The same force had also destroyed the implements that had held his hands. With those gone he stretched them, rising to his feet, an imperious look in his eye.

“I warned you,” he said, fingers weaving patterns in the air, barriers swiftly errecting themselves about his form.

He heard Bree rise to his feet, as well as the sound of another pair of footsteps. Shit. he thought quietly as he recalled that Bree had a sister. Deciding that they would capture him again if he did not keep them off balance, the illusionist snapped his fingers once, twice, thrice, in unison with a nearby clock's ticking.

Swiftly an invisible screen of vis overlapped itself with his form, with its total mass taking up about 4 meters in any direction from his person. He began adding complexities, tiny tendrils of energy extending from the projection and connecting with his surroundings even as he took steps forwards, grabbing a table leg. He used a simple spell to remove any broken wood from the leg before twirling it once in his hand and striking it hard against the door frame.

At this point he could see Bree, who staggered at the sound, his half licenti sister doing the same. The professor continued his stride forwards, eyes locked on the Broker. He wasn't out just yet. Shifting his grip on the table leg he let it slide into a reverse grip, the point extending backwards, before he strike that very point against the doorframe again. Both siblings staggered once more, but Bree appeared to be recovering as he reached down to his belt, fingers grasping for one of his many armaments.

Dranai had other plans and he made them known by raising his hand so Bree could see, and then snapping. From his perspective Bree used all the strength in his body to throw himself backwards and into the wall furthest from his person.

However, it appeared the the Broker's sister had already broken his hold on her senses and did not appear at all pleased with him. With no hesitation at all she snatched a sawed off shotgun from behind herself and began bringing it around. Dranai didn't let her finish the motion.

Having no further need of the table leg, he sent a tiny super condensed kernal of vis into its form and then hurled it at her with a small force spell and a flick of his wrist. The leg careened end over end towards the woman. She started to dodge only for the leg to explode into wooden shrapnel, much of it embedding itself in her skin, with some being deflected off of his shields.

However, it appeared that Bree's sister was more resilient than he'd counted on. She got back to her feet and lunged for him, causing the mage to stop in place and take a step back, a frown of worry crossing his features before it became horror as her form passed through his barriers and...missed.

He smiled and stepped around her, leaving part of the invisible projection he'd created earlier in place, making her think she'd just tackled him, pinning him to the ground, when the reality was that he stood behind her. Muffling his footsteps and deafening her to his breathing he turned and ran to the ladder...and ascended. He got all the way to the top before sprinting out of the small shack. He ran a whole two blocks before he stopped to rest a moment, setting up an alert spell spread over the surrounding block. He knew Bree wouldn't give up that quick, and his illusions wouldn't hold up for long after he'd left the area, they hadn't been complex enough for that.

So the question now was, how the hell was he supposed to evade capture.

Then it hit him, he hadn't managed to retrieve his Focus before he escaped.

“Fuck!”

It seemed his day was about to get much worse. That was, if you could call it day anymore as it was around midnight by the looks of it. In fact, he considered, the time might just end up being his only saving grace.

After all...it was the witching hour.

---

---

Eyes expectant, Mairyell waited for their host to answer the door, but it seemed that something else required his attention as he heard a soft grunt exit his sister's mouth. Glancing down with a light frown, he waited for her to explain, knowing she would. However, when finally she spoke up the words that parted her lips were unwelcome ones. His pupils sharpened to slits and his eyes flashed crimson, before he took several breaths, forcing the beast that he kept coiled tightly in his mind from breaking free. It appeared that he would not have to fight it alone, as Aeris rose to the occasion, kissing him.

While it only lasted for a short thirty seconds, the kiss nonetheless felt like an eternity of bliss packed into just half a minute. Those moments had stimulated his Brisn, as well, and so his eyes returned to their indigo hue and he smiled down at her, though the expression tightened as he recalled why she had given him a kiss.

It was a goodbye, a 'be safe,' as they both knew that one of them had to investigate the eximius' presence in the city...and considering how he felt about the bastard, well, it couldn't be him. That and he already had other arrangements. Nonetheless, it appeared that the meeting had another arriving participant. Not missing a beat despite the fact that they'd been seen in that intimate moment, Mairyell nodded at the stranger, “Yes, we were invited. However, it seems something has come up for her...so I'll catch her up later.”

He smiled at Aeris, “I'll see you later, alright? Be safe,” he said quieter, kissing her on the head before he glanced at the door, and then back to her.

Aeris' eyes met the stranger's as she listened to her brother when he addressed him. When he spoke to her, she smiled regretfully up at him before forcing her body from his.

As she passed the stranger to get out of the alley, she nodded silently before disappearing around the corner and making her way East, in the direction that her vis was pulling her.

His eyes followed Aeris till she turned the corner of the alley at which point he exhaled, took a deep breath in and then smiled slightly as he turned his gaze on the newcomer and asked “So...what's the name?”

Zeki Glaedwine

Zeki's expression remained serious as he listened to charles. A knock rapped on his door, making him sigh. This little rebellion really was starting.

Zeki let Charles down as he went behind his counter, pulling out two vials. At the same time, he removed his shades. He'd decided it was probably for the best not to hide anything from anyone here. The reason for them was quickly appearant, as blue flames vented through Zeki's eyes, showing his true nature as a geist, not a simple human.

"Immortal... hmm. Professor Aeon, this isn't a normal store, I do not have normal medication on me. I do, however have this. Gorgon's blood. It should do the trick. I was afraid you were in a position where it wouldn't help, but if you are truly immortal, then this should at least help speed up the process. I also seemed to have mixed up the right and left bottles, but again, if your immortal, it should do the trick. I was wondering what I was going to do with them. They are free of charge of course. If you'll excuse me, I'll go answer the door."

Zeki walked passed Charles, not glancing at him as he slipped him the vials. He wasn't sure how he felt about immortality. Zeki himself was afraid of death, but he was envious of how it motivated humans to change. Always changing. Without that fear, what progress could they have? On the other hand, being completely immortal was something he'd never seen, and that, of course, was interesting.

Zeki then opened to door, to see three people there. His face lit up like a Christmas tree, which, with flaming eyes, was rather creepy.

"Come in, come in! Ignore the blood, my friend here seems to have been attacked by a Prae, it'll take a bit to patch him up. I'm afraid it's a prime example of why we're having this meeting. Refreshments are inside, power point's up. If you'll excuse me, I'm just going check around for a minute. I'd hate for any spies to be outside."

Zeki shooed them inside, giving little room for introductions, or questions of if this was even the right place. It was odd how he noted specifically he'd hate for spies to be outside, as if them being inside was preferable. Glancing around at rooftops, he did see a shadow. Holding his cane at it, he fired a magical shot from the butt of it above the shadow.

"Come inside if you plan on lurking. Your Vis is scaring people."

Zeki continued to scan around for a second, to make sure there weren't other surprises watching. He then turned to reenter his shop. The shade would come, he was sure of it. He didn't even close the door as he walked back in.

"Sorry for that. I have to have my security very.... specific around here. In any case, I am Zeki Glaedwine. Some of you remember me from the rally. I prefer for Roger to do all the speaking, I'm afraid I am not the most eloquant. I am, however, a man of many talents. Or perhaps I should say Licenti of many talents, as you can probably tell.

I will begin the meeting in a minute. Mainly because A) I would very much like for Professor Aeon not to pass out and heal a little bit B) I'm waiting for one more person to come in from outside."

Killian Jones, Azulia Ellison, and Oscar

Collab between myself, @Luna, and @Vietmyke

Killian finished slipping into his shirt just as the phone started playing a classical melody, a perfect fit to Charles in the young man’s opinion, with an eyebrow raised. He walked over to the small makeshift desk located a little bit off to his right. The guy’s hand reached outwards trying to decide if it was a prank or not. If it wasn't the professor, they would most likely be angry for the student ignoring his call. If it was, then there wasn't much the young man could do considering he couldn't text his teacher to leave him be.

He grumbled as his left hand slide the lock screen. The picture that was set as its home screen was from Killian's past. There was five people total sitting on the steps of an abandoned building. A memory which he would forget for the rest of his life. The only likely reason that the guy survived was because of one of friends being a vest while he ducked for cover. His head shook side to side as he forced the very thoughts in the back of his head for the time being.

The human paled at the request that Charles made. His lip twisted as his stomach churned. The man was to go to a crowded airport!? Clear the professor did quite understand the words hiding out until the threat on the his life had smothered. Then again the teacher had took the young man in at a young age so he did owe the the older man. A sigh passed Killian's lips as he slide on a leather jacket, grabbed his spare key, and walked out of the room’s entrance. He walked down the small hallway and turned right towards the doorway while texting Oscar that he would be late for their photo shoot. Once out of the front door the guy locked the house, got inside his car, and drove away.

Charles’ house looked much like it always did, a cozy little english-style home, white stucco accented by wooden bars, and gray slate tiles on its roof. This wasn’t Oscar’s first time visiting the home of his professor- as one of the few individuals at the college comfortable with who he was, it made sense that Oscar spoke to his professor moreso than some of the others at the school. Oscar was meeting up with another student today- Killian, another one of the Professor’s close students. Killian was a nice enough person, quite young by human standards to be attending a university, and rather quiet. Killian avoided saying much about himself, and as far as Oscar had observed, mostly kept to himself. How Oscar managed to find himself in company with this man, his logic circuits were still responding inconclusive, but this was probably one of the things Aeris had told him to just “let happen”.

Oscar and Killian were supposed to meet up that day to work on a project- Oscar was uncertain the nature of the project, as no one had told him, he just knew that he was there to take pictures and analyze data as it became relevant. The house, appeared quiet- perhaps Charles and Killian were already inside? Killian and Charles had a unique relationship, much like his own, and they did not seem to have any particular desire to divulge information regarding their status. Oscar made his way to the front door and began knocking.

Charles’ front door had some noticeable dents in its thick hardwood frame- the result of Oscar’s previous attempts at knocking several months back. Oscar had at the time, not yet fully adjusted to the strength of his body, relative to the resistance of the door. Already, Oscar’s right handed was covered with another layer of material- a leather glove, to prevent it from causing any more considerable damage to less solid surfaces than his own hand, with moderate success. 10 minutes into his knocking, Oscar concluded that perhaps no one was home. This was a strange circumstance, as both Charles and Killian had confirmed with Oscar that they would be meeting at this time. Running a quick risk-assessment algorithm through his logic core, Oscar decided that further investigation of the home would be necessary.

With little difficulty, Oscar pressed his left palm against the heavy oak door, and easily dug his fingers into the door. With as much effort as moving aside a piece of paper, Oscar cleanly pulled the door from its frame, and stepped in, somewhat awkwardly replacing the door in the frame as he entered the home. With no hinges to secure the door, the slab of oak slid down slightly, and leaned against the doorframe at a slight angle. Oscar slowly proceeded through the home, his scanners carefully combing every visible inch of each room as he entered. He made a slow sweep of the building, eventually ending back in the home’s front hall, Oscar came to the conclusion that nobody was home. Curious.

Looking out the window of the car she was sitting in, she sighed.She felt a little less conscious that she was wearing a red and black dress dress now that she was away from the airport. Her blonde hair was in a half braid, the slightly curly locks resting against her bare shoulder. She crossed her legs letting her black wedge touch underneath the glove compartment. Looking at the stranger that picked her up, she decided to ask question. She had too much silence this past week and it was extremely uncomfortable now.

[color=fuschia]”So if you aren't Mr. Charles...who the hell are you”[/color] She asked. Jet lag was hitting her hard at this point, adding to the mix of not getting much sleep since the devastating news. Thanks to her makeup though, she made it look like she didn't have any dark circle. Yes call her a girl for wearing makeup, but she knew well enough to make sure her crystals was not touched. She had a little bit eyeliner on and lip close, but that was about it.

A notification appeared in the corner of Oscar’s vision, a message from Killian telling him that he’d be late. The sentiment made sense. Oscar quickly responded in turn, his thoughts translating into text before sending the message back to Killian.

‘Understood. Is the professor with you? No one appears to be home.’

The car filled with the song’s lyrics describing the young man's life almost to a T. Maybe it was time to move on but then again at one point there were still hunters around the area, deep in their desperate search. This would make staying underneath their noses even harder. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he ground his teeth. Killian wasn't halfway to the airport which didn't help ease his mood. Yes, there had been improvement on how he treated each person but they still needed to show their loyalty. Just had Charles done when the hunters first got wind of the man many years ago. The sudden vibration from the cellphone caused the student's eyes to flicker off the road, just for a second, then flicker upwards in search for a spot to pull over.

The man pulled over to the right avoiding the question entirely at the moment, while also being thankful the back road was solemnly used, and grasped the electronic in his dominant hand. He quickly unlocked the screen while mentally cursing at himself for not leaving Oscar a text. Hopefully the guy was willing to help out tomorrow or perhaps tonight, depending on the evening went. 'Sorry about that Oscar. I forgot that Charles had a meeting tonight but he should be home by now. I need to pick someone up from the airport so it may be a while before we’re back. If you don't mind waiting for us then I will be in your debt.'

How many times had Killian used those words and backed out due to fear? He really was a wolf in sheep’s clothing though his prey was entirely different. The guy shook his head to clear away the lingering thoughts and concerns. He owed Charles his life, so this was the least he could do for the professor. "Killian Damien Jones. I'm a student at the college Charles teaches at. Actually I'm at least one of his students as well. Who are you?" he asked kicking the car in drive and turning towards home.

Oscar stood impassively in the center hallway of his professor’s home. Nodding to himself, Oscar sent the reply. ‘Understood. I will remain in this location until you arrive.’

A quick trace on Killian’s phone revealed that he was not far off. Oscar took it upon himself to continue investigating the house. It was strange that Charles wasn’t home. In all the time that Oscar had known the him, the Professor had been quite punctual, never missing an appointment by more than a few minutes. As such, this was some cause for concern. Likewise, the golems that typically guarded Charles’ were nowhere to be seen.

Artificial beings like himself- though much more rudimentary, Charles’ golems were a curiosity to Oscar, which had always been present during any of Oscar’s prior visits, making their absence distinctly noticeable. He didn’t particularly mind, as the golems were quite aggressive sometimes, but without them, the house was almost eerily quiet.

”My name is Azulia Ellison and I here to see Mr. Charles for circumstances you will know sooner or later” She grabbed two envelopes from the bag she put at her feet. Both had Charles name on it. The envelopes were thick enough that no one could read it through the outside which irked her to no end.

It was not fair that some stranger, not caring that her mom knew this guy, should be allowed to know her mother’s last words before she was. Last time she checked, she was the daughter and what was he, a former teacher and friend, where is the fairness in that. She could feel a hint of a headache attack the back of her skull, adding to the annoyance.

”Azulia Ellison? That’s a very unique name madam.” Killian's responded in a polite voice. He turned right towards the main road while noting the young woman seemed to be getting tired. The man shifted lower inside his seat while mentally hating the fact they had to use this road. The main road always seemed to be the fastest way to Charles home but there was also be dangerous drivers lingering in wait. Thankfully this didn't seem to be one for these times. The guy’s hands slowly gripped the steering wheel tighter as he glanced right and left more often than a normal person would. A left turn would bring them home as well as Oscar’s view if the android chose to peer outside.

Priscus - Outside the town of Vale

Clash.

Steel could be heard colliding with each other in a distant quiet forest outside of Vale, where a boy and man challenged the other's skill. The boy wielding one sword, while the man wielding two, effortless in his motions he would occasionally strike the boy with a flat edge of the blade as to not hurt him but aid in his understanding of what could happen in a fight to the death. An art is what it could be considered, blade dancing, both figures moved with purpose, wasting little energy and conjuring intensity behind every swing. Three blades locked into position, sparks ignited off the edges, two were crossed as to catch the single blade in between being wielded by the boy.

“Shorter movements young one, purposeful strikes, ones that require strength, or speed, are only successful if your opponent is weaker and slower. We do not rely on these qualities as they are chancing, you are a student of I, and thus makes you a student of your grandfather...we do not rely on chance.”

The older man shifted his weight to the right, redirecting the single blade down to the ground, while swinging his right leg for a low round kick, sweeping the boy off his feet. Before the boy could react, his opponent’s blade was to his chest. Shock was what surged through his body and flooding into his eyes, he could not believe the level of carelessness in his technique. A blade swiftly transitioned into a helping hand.

“Understood father.” the boy nodded, accepting defeat.

Alastair reached over to pat his boy on the shoulder, “Nasargiel, you are an Icariat, you have been taught by both your mother and I, and tomorrow you meet the God-Queen as your rite of passage that has been tradition for all Icariat’s, we are a strong bloodline and not many are going to miss this opportunity to see you, my son.” Alastair took a moment to let that sink in, “You will do us proud, I believe Exeo Aismael will also be attending, I like her, and she may be looking for someone in the future to assist her with Medius.”

Nasargiel listened closely to his father’s words, hanging onto each one as his anticipation for the gathering tomorrow heightened, “Medius? Isn’t that far from Priscus?”

“Yes, Nasargiel, but we go where we are needed as Icariat’s, and you will go, you will serve, and you will prove your worthiness to hold our name as your own.” Alastair had a smile in the corner of his eye and stopped Nasargiel in his tracks, placed both hands on each shoulder, “You are one of the finest Prae in Priscus, you do not know it yet, but you are, so if there is a time where Exeo Aismael or any other Exeo calls...it will be your time to be the GREATEST Prae to have ever been in Priscus.”

Nasargiel nodded at his father’s words, such expectation, and trust his father had over his son’s future. The two would walk home in mostly silence the rest of the way, once arriving they both would be greeted by Nasargiel’s mother, she would take Nasargiel to the side and begin his spiritual and psychic training for the day. She too would have her own words for Nasargiel to listen for and she would help him understand that tomorrow was going to be the start of entirely different life than he has had since.

Ominar - The Spire

Nasargiel stood tall over the observation deck located just outside the peak of the 'Spire'. You needed limited access to venture this high above the city, in the 'Spire'. Standing with perfect posture, back and neck straight, chest raised, with his hands resting on his belt. Wind whipping from East to West, he was pondering, travelling through his own mind as to the future of Ominar and Medius. It had seemed ages ago when his rite of passage was complete, the God-Queen imbuing him with all of his potential accessible but yet still too young for complete mastery. Yet, here he was, in Ominar just as his father had mentioned he might be. It actually didn't take long after he was imbued to be offered a position. He wasn't sure if it was because of his last name, his father's reputation, or they actually saw potential in him. Regardless, he was here, standing high above the city of Ominar in the very far distant place from home, called Medius.

When Nasargiel looked down from time to time, he almost deceived himself by how tranquil it was from his position. It almost seemed as if peace had reigned over Ominar, except for the occasional honking or yelling. In reality, Nasargiel knew what those paved roads below held, humans, licentia, and prae, all mixing together to create a chaotic bond of everlasting conflict. He wasn't quite sure on his Exeo's plans for the Licentia, he did know that humans would always play as pawns, and Prae were first and far most important than anything else when preserving life in Medius. Nasargiel did have his own opinions on the matter, he wasn't necessarily sold entirely that all Licentia were evil, nor that all humans needed to be manipulated and controlled, but it was not his place, only the Exeo could weave Medius into what was best for the Prae.

War was imminent in Nasargiel's thoughts, he knew that Licentia being as individualistic as they are would fight for their individuality before giving up any ground. Of course the reason that Prae had such a stronghold in Ominar was because that personality of Licentia was also their downfall, unable to coexist even with each other as each of them had their different set of morales and values. It was as if Licentia lived in their own world, within another world that just happened to exist around them. Then again, maybe Nasargiel's understanding of Licentia wasn't all that great as his entire life since moving to Ominar was confronting them on his Exeo's orders.

His coat still whipped in the wind, hair flowing, eyes peering off into oblivion. The observation deck was always a solid place to comb over his own thoughts. Reflection was one of his mother's teachings,

"Always question what is around you, who is around you, and reflect the decisions, thoughts, and judgments you have made." Nasargiel thought to himself, replaying his mother's exact words.

A loud crash snapped Nasargiel out of his current state of pondering and shook his head a little to the left and right. Slowly, he turned his back to the sun that had been warming his face and shoulders. Approaching the door that allowed him back inside, pulling out a key card and pressing a pad for identification verification. An A.I. said some pretty generic A.I. gibberish, searched through the database and opened the door. Walking down the halls of the 'Spire' were more confusing than any haunted maze could be in the dark. A labyrinth of corridors and entrances that were built to make sure intruders would get lost getting in and lost trying to find a way out. Nasargiel's coat flapped behind him, walking with purpose and strength in each step, not a very large Prae, 5'7" and only about 160 to 170lbs, but it was his aura or Vis that would have most notice him. H

It would be a few minutes before the boy reached the office of his Exeo, upon his approach a female Prae exited the room, she seemed uncomfortable, overwhelmed, and intimidated. A sight that was familiar to Nasargiel in his younger days, when he had first met his Exeo.

Priscus - Grand Hall of the God-Queen - Collab (Yoshua, Celaira, and I)

As the guests were brought into the Chamber of the God-Queen, they would be greeted first and foremost by her twelve Raesori, the prae who alone had been chosen to always be at her side. Allowing the three to pass into the chamber, their forms being ushered between two of the twenty four pillars that ringed the God-Queen's permanent abode. Above all else the resplendence of her aura would be apparent upon their entrance, and while they were, to a degree, shielded from her tremendous vis by Alastair, there was little he could do about the illumination. The same however, could not be said of the elegant prae woman who stood to the Queen's right. With an unseen smile, and a whisper from Amana Van, the God-Queen herself, she gestured and to the visitors the resplendent aura of the Queen would diminish in its intensity.

Of course, they would still be bathed in its warmth. It was clear that the Queen was pleased to see them, to see her children.

"Welcome Alastair, Maeve," she nodded her head to Nasargiel's parents before settling her eyes upon the young prae to-be. Her smile was gentle and everything about her, from the elegant dress, to her smile and aura, was welcoming as she looked him up and down. "...and of course our special guest, Nasargiel. I am so pleased this day has finally come for your son," she said, stepping forwards from the God-Queen's side for a moment to offer a hug to both of Nasargiel's parents.

Yet, she was an Exeo, and with her closeness, came the sensation of her aura. Yet, unlike that of the God-Queen, it was oddly chilling, though welcoming in and pleased in its own way. There was a beauty to it as there was a beauty to sunlight refracted off of ice in winter. After a moment she backed away from the trio to look upon Nasargiel from a proper angle. "You've grown well young one," she said, a warm smile on her lips, one that met her eyes.

All the while, the God-Queen Amana Van sat in her throne, one that appeared to have been created with equal parts comfort and beauty in mind. The throne was gold and white of the purest sort, made of pure crystallized vis, and reinforced thousands of times over the ages. It was the same throne that the very first God-Queen had lit upon, and it would be the throne that all those who preceded Amana sat upon as well.

This made it not only sacred, but revered and more ancient perhaps than any other object in Priscus, with the exception of two, but those were hidden way and guarded almost as fiercely as their eminent Queen. As to Amana herself, well her form was beautiful, surely, but far more notable was the golden figure that encapsulated her. Composed entirely of vis was a flickering image of the God-Queen's Manifest, or her equivalent at least. The reality was that it was her Anima made external, at least in part.

The winged figure was representative of the God-Queen's position and power both, revealing just how tremendous the amount of vis she held within herself, all for the sake of her kind's continued prosperity. Such was her role.

It would be days such as these that defined how important her majesty is, her role among Prae society, to continue the legacy of their proud, ancient race. The chamber defined by Nasargiel as he walked in with his parents was "glorious", it eminated a sense of security, tradition, and honor, but the light from the God-Queen's vis is what stood out the most.. It was a place that not all Prae would even see in their own life time, to be standing not only in this room, but to be present with the very God-Queen herself, Amana Van, was a privelege, one that Nasargiel would not forget and forever cherish.

A prestine kept floor, almost too nice to walk on, it looked as if it had been buffered one hundred times over in a single day. Nasargiel wanted to run his hands over the carvings that branded the pillars as they entered, these carvings had to of had some meaning but beyond Nasargiel's comprehension. Alastair, Maeve, and Nasargiel all reached the appropriate distance from the God-Queen and with one arm in front, and one arm bent in to the lower back, they all bowed their heads in respect to their Majesty.

Nasargiel observed as an Exeo broke rank from her majesty's side and made her approach, graceful in stride, beautiful in figure, and yet she held such a dominant presence. He could not quite put his finger on what pulled him to her but it was something that the hairs on his neck reacted to by rising just as his interest. The Exeo greeted his parents as if she had known them from previous years, of course, the probablity was quite high that she had known them for quite some time, it was Nasargiel's first time and he had to remember this. His world was about to become a whole lot larger than before he entered this room.

The Exeo's voice was rewarding as she praised Nasargiel's growth, he hoped his skills matched her expectations too, he wasn't sure why he cared, but he did, and that was enough to have a sensation of eagerness grasp his body for the moment. He felt ready for what was next, for the next step in his evolution, not as just a Prae, but as a servant for the greater good of his people.

"Thank you for accepting my request your Majesty, here is my son, more of a man than the days you first spotted him." Alastair spoke with admiration in his voice as he looked over to Nasargiel, "introduce yourself." The three stood in a row before the Queen and her Raesori, eyes having adjusted to the light, both Maeve and Alastair look over to their son.

Nasargiel was caught off guard with his eyes trapped and fixed on the throne that seemed to be alive, there was so much vis, an overwhelming amount that his tongue tied for what felt like aeons, but he finally collected himself, looked up toward Amana Van, and spoke, "Your majesty, and her most beloved, my name is Nasargiel Montius Icariat, Son to my father Alastair Icariat, to my mother Maeve Icariat, and Grand Child of Avaryius Vale Icariat. I come today to pay homage to my God-Queen, and ask for her Grace to grant me to become a full Prae under her rule, so that I may be a loyal servant of her and Priscus."

Despite the Exeo's efforts, the room brightened as a smile formed upon the lips of their God-Queen, her luminscent eyes regarding the young prae before they glanced to Aismael. The Exeo smiled in response and stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder before meeting his eyes, a calmness radiating from her and through him. After he met her gaze, she would guide him forwards and alongside her, walking him towards Amana until he was only a foot or two away from her, the throne of their esteemed God-Queen right before them. Below his feet was a rune of power, as old as the throne itself it resonated with ancient power.

Aismael lifted her hand from his shoulder and took a step back, smiling at him, before she looked to their monarch, her expression and demeanor dictating that he should as well.

"You are received by our God-Queen, Amana Van in all of her resplendence. Your request accepted, know that today you will walk away a true Prae, and know too that given unto you will not only be her majesty's most pure of vis, but also the responsibility for your kind so long as you live." She looked to the young prae once more, pausing before she asked, very seriously, "Do you accept these offerings?"

The moment was surreal as the Exeo smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. He was trying to contain his excitement, he had waited many years for this moment described to him by his parents and others alike from where he grew up. His feet were guided by the Exeo as he found himself standing above old runes that he could only assume would play a part in bestowing him the Vis he trained hard for. The throne of the God-Queen was a hands distance away as it pulsated with energy whose amount Nasargiel could not even begin to comprehend. It was when the hand ceased to exist on his shoulder that he caught what the next step was. He saw his Exeo look at their God-Queen and it was in such a way that Nasargiel knew he should follow suit. His eyes touched the God-Queen's and behind him Aismael began to speak, her benevolent voice carried with her strength that Nasargiel could only respect. The Exeo had yet to disappoint his expectations since his arrival.

The Exeo asked Nasargiel in reply to her speech, if he was willing to accept the responsibility of his kind and understand that he would be receiving the most pure of Vis that a Prae could ask for. Nasargiel for a second looked back at Aismael and then forward at his God-Queen, he nodded, "I accept these offerings."

Behind him, her back to his parents, and his back to her, Aismael's gaze met Amana's and a smile spread over her lips. It was one meant only for Amana, but it was fleeting, for a moment after she closed her eyes and took several steps back and as she came to stand beside his parents, she stopped and the ritual began.

Vis flowed in increased amounts from the God-Queen, and she bent forwards till her forehead met with Nasargiel's. In that moment she met his eyes, before closing her own. As her eyes closed, her Ostium opened and the chamber was flooded with exquisite vis. For a moment the young prae might feel as if he were drowning, until the calm and serenity of Amana's mind took hold, soothing his nerves. In that moment of calm and clarity, she spoke--her voice a whisper--though to him it would be as a thrumming call to arms. "Be careful my child. What I give to you now is my legacy to you. Use it wisely...and most of all, follow your heart."

She withdrew and in that moment a rush of energy surged through his form, filling him to the brim, before settling throughout his body. He was glowing, a halo of white light surrounding his form, before it began to dim as his body took it all in and made the vis its own.

Amana leaned back into her throne and watched him with a maternal smile, a sort of pride in her eyes while her Exeo, Aismael Vea-vartari, watched with a different sort of happiness entirely, one that his parents would not notice within the spectacle. "Wonderful," the Exeo whispered, and while the word would sound breathless and reverant to all who heard it, the almost greedy pleasure in her eyes told a different story.

However, as the light faded, so too did her expression, until it was but a thing of the past, with no one, but the God-Queen herself the wiser.

Nasargiel could feel the Vis begin to lift from beneath him and wrap around his legs, it swiftly crawled over his entire body as his Exeo took a step back. The God-Queen began the ritual as the room began to become submerged in her majesty's Vis. Nasargiel felt the gentle touch of his God-Queen, his eyes fixated on hers, they were like magnets channeling their charge to a metal surface, locked, until she closed her eyes. Nasargiel's head felt light, his body was experiencing feelings of levitation, bright light, and the pouring of Vis began overwhelming Nasargiel as he accepted the Vis that had been channelled his direction.

It was a success, Nasargiel could feel his body begin to balance itself out. Energy coursed through his veins with power he had never felt before. To be a full Prae, it was what he had worked so hard in achieving. His Majesty leaned back in her glorious throne, a smile sliding across her face. It assured Nasargiel that he had done her proud, the light surrounding him began to diminish but a new glow certainly resonated around Nasargiel's being and presence.

He even felt as if he stood a little taller, although compared to everyone else in attendance, his accolades did not compare.

"Thank you, your Majesty, I shall not disappoint." The certainty in his voice carried strong as he looked at his God-Queen with unwavering loyalty behind those rare eyes.

Ominar - Aismael's Office

The young Prae boy opened the door with his security clearance and walked in with a strong presence. Head held high, body at attention, ready to show his respect and loyalty to the Exeo at all times.

“M’lady Exeo Aismael Vea-vartari, Nasargiel Icariat reporting for service.”

A slight grin slipping across his cheek as his relationship with Aismael was far beyond formalities at this point, she had been with him every step of the way since his full Prae status.

---

Charles studied Zeki when he slid over to the counter. The Lucenti shortly vanished behind it when he bent down, the numerous sounds of shifted items began and he once more emerged again. His figure up-righted itself and in each hand, two identical vials were held. The clear, murky liquid swirled with each step back toward Charles as the shopkeeper removed his glasses. A faint, eerie ghost fire wafted from his irises, the color flickered and danced like blue flame licking the insides.

At first, Charles didn’t note the oddity until the Licentia came to a stop in front of him. The sudden image was enough to make the immortal twitch in reaction. His fingers tightened into a fist as he inhaled, soothing the jittery alertness spread through his being. A combination of being in unknown territory and terribly injured did little to help his frayed nerves, the night still determined to leave him a paranoid mess.

"Immortal... hmm. Professor Aeon, this isn't a normal store, I do not have normal medication on me. I do, however have this. Gorgon's blood. It should do the trick," The Licenti spoke, his hand offered the two vials as if they were a lifeline,"I was afraid you were in a position where it wouldn't help, but if you are truly immortal, then this should at least help speed up the process. I also seemed to have mixed up the right and left bottles, but again, if your immortal, it should do the trick. I was wondering what I was going to do with them. They are free of charge of course. If you'll excuse me, I'll go answer the door."

Immediately Charles looked askance at the offer. With great caution and little choice, Charles reached out a careful hand. He took one vial and then the other in a single hand. The professor spied the Licenti casually stroll toward the door leaving the immortal to examine the contents. Setting the other vial within his lap, the immortal lifted one to the light and examined the murky substance. It sloshed and appeared heavy for a liquid as Charles frowned, studying the fashion the substance swishing against the likely enchanted container for clues to its intentions. It gave none causing him to inhale in frustration sharply.

He placed it down and repeated the same process with the other vial while he listened to Zeki greet additional guests. From his peripheral vision he watched Licenti's face lite up like some grisly Jack o' Lantern for old hallow eve and for a moment, Charles thought his host's 'smiling' expression might just frighten the new arrivals away.

Instead, they entered willingly. Pausing in his activities, Charles glanced at the two individuals casually strolling in and took stock of their characteristics. The first was above average for a human, his head would easily thump the ceiling back in his own home. The red hair and green eyes reminded him of an Irish man he once knew creating a curiosity if the man descended from that region. Naturally, he didn’t assume the man was Irish by any means and didn’t ask.

The next individual to enter was much shorter and around average height. His muscular features, including his vibrate purple eyes and brown hair, brushed Charles’ memory. It was enough to stir up his wariness over the younger man’s appearance. Something connected the last arrival with something dangerous, but the professor couldn’t quite determine why and it bothered him.

Charles shifted to the wall back less subtly than he had liked. At this point he noted their host’s voice raised to something upon the roof, his cane lifted and something magical sprang forward into the night. "Come inside if you plan on lurking. Your Vis is scaring people."

Lingering there, Glaedwine shifted back into the shop leaving the door wide open in invitation to the eavesdropper.

"Sorry for that. I have to have my security very.... specific around here. In any case, I am Zeki Glaedwine. Some of you remember me from the rally. I prefer for Roger to do all the speaking, I'm afraid I am not the most eloquant. I am, however, a man of many talents. Or perhaps I should say Licenti of many talents, as you can probably tell.

I will begin the meeting in a minute. Mainly because A) I would very much like for Professor Aeon not to pass out and heal a little bit B) I'm waiting for one more person to come in from outside."

“That might be a while as I’m trying to limit the actual damage, personally I’m not fond of painful experiences…” Charles hissed in pain then moved on when he noted the door was still wide open.

" Do you really think it’s wise to invite a wolf among the sheep?” Charles stated through gritted teeth, naturally irritated by the fact he was in no condition to fight off the ‘spy’. Especially if this individual proved dangerous enough to worry about. “It also doesn’t appear you have any sort of security which makes me ponder how well this little group will do in the long run.”

Something rang and vibrated within Charles’ pocket, causing his head to snap down. “Excuse me a...moment.” His side still throbbed and blood, he ignored it as he leaned to one side then removed the compact item into his right hand. Flipping it up like Killian had taught him, his eyes darted over the symbol lingering on the screen and finally flicked it to the side. It revealed a text message from Killian asking Charles where he was.

Pausing for a bit, Charles debated on his a answer for several moments. Deciding to be honestly, his thumb darted on letter to letter to text out a reply. Twilight Spirit. The thought never crossed his mind that Killian might actually come looking for him as he placed the phone down beside him.

Azulia Ellison, Killian Jones, Oscar
Collab between @Luna, @Vietmyke, and myself

Azulia blushed at the mention of her name being unique. It was the first time someone has actually said that to her. She leaned back on her seat more, moving it to where she was laying down at an angle, her back cracked a bit making her groan a bit in pain. [color=fushia]”Are we almost there”[/color]

” Just one more turn. Charles isn't home right now from what my friend told me. I'll text him when we arrive. If you're too tired you can sleep in my room.” his eyes focused on the road. He turned a fina right, noting the robot walking out of the house, as a groan worked inside his chest.”Great. Now that Oscar has destroyed the door completely I'll start deigning my tombstone.” Killian grumbled underneath his breath. The house was supposed to be the exact way that it was left in and now...well now they would soon feel The professor’s wraith.

The man worked the car into the driveway and shut it down completely before opening his door. He walked over to Azula's side and opened it. The guy waited until the woman had gotten out before closing the entrance. A frown formed on his lips and he walked towards the house to inspect the damage. This wasn't good. The teacher needed to either replace or remount the object to its frame, which from one angle looked cracked.

Azulia got out and yawned more, staggering a bit. Her tired mind had to force her to remember to grab her bags from the car and she slowly made her way to house, not paying attention to the other person at her new home. She walked past the broken door and sat down inside leaning against the wall. Damn jet lag, this was a pain in the ass to fight against plus with the lack of sleep she had during the week was a concoction from hell.

Oscar waved in a near careless manner, Killian had arrived with a person that Oscar had never seen before. A quick scan of her face revealed that she had never been introduced to him. She was a short blonde, smaller in stature than Oscar by far. She seemed tired, and unsteady, ultimately ignoring Oscar as she entered the home. He looked at her and cocked his head.

“Might I suggest some food, miss? You seem unwell. Carbohydrates will help bring your body back to proper operational capacity.” He chirped helpfully, his voice a bright tenor pitch, with a slight tinny sound. It appeared that he was ignored. Whichever the case, his attention quickly turned to Killian as the young man entered the house.

The man’s eyebrow lower and as a frown worked upon his face. Charles wasn't home still, a big old neon sign that something was, what could have meant anything from the guy visiting an old friend, to him bleeding out on some back road where no one could help. Not adding to the fact that the home had always felt like an empty space waiting to be filled without the teacher there. Then again it could have just been Killian.

He walked inside the entrance hallway, noting small droplets of blood going towards the living room, then back towards the teacher’s bedroom, Oscar following closely behind him the entire way. A sickening feel flooded his stomach.” Calm down. There has to be a logical explanation here. There are no mutts so it's not likely someone broke inside. Though whatever happened inside the home was within an hour.” the man’s eyes turned towards Oscar.” Alright let's go back to the car. Oscar I would like to speak to you privately.” he said in a whisper.

Azulia nodded her head and exited back out of the house, annoyance filling her that her guardian was not at his home. She grumbled and got back into the car, waiting for Killian to get in the car.

She wondered what they had to stay behind and talk about, but she figured it was none of her business, so she wouldn't shove her nose into it.

He pulled Oscar to the side, while looking back towards Azulia once in awhile, while the other student gave his report. The house was empty, and as far as Oscar could tell- suspiciously so. There were no signs of the house being lived in, nor the golems that Charles’ commonly kept around. Whoever or whatever was inside the the home was long gone it seemed. This was good news but the worry was still placed on his features. The man would have asked another question but decided against it as his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and flicked the screen to the right. Instantly Charles’ message filled the screen.

” Twilight Spirit? Alright then we have our heading.” he said while texting the teacher that they were on their way. The two men walked towards the car and got inside. Killian looked at the woman in the back and gave an attempted warm smile.” Why don't you try to get a nap in. That way when we arrive where Charles is you can address this with a semi clear mind.”

Azulia glanced at him. ”I don't want to sleep until I see the letter” stubbornly saying this, she sat back against her seat, arms crossed. She had let her hair down from the half braid she had, the blonde locks looking a bit bouncy as a result.

[color=fuschia]”As soon as I see the letter, I will have peace of mind finally and I could sleep”[/color] She dropped her head down towards her lap, her voice getting softer with each word.

“I believe Killian is implying that their may be danger related to Charles’ current status. Being well rested ensures that the brain is able to react and respond efficiently to outside stimuli.” Oscar replied as he sat in the shotgun seat of the car- Killian’s vehicle sagging a bit as Oscar’s weight pressed down on it. Pulling off his backpack and placing it between his feet, Oscar looked at Killian.

”Do you believe Charles is in danger?”

”Fine. Why are girls so stubborn?” Killian mumbled to himself as the car started. His attention turned towards Oscar, as his head slowly nodded with each word, before speaking.”That's exactly what I think. Though I'm not sure of who’s blood was on the floor. Since the mutts aren't there we can assume that something happened inside that house.” the man said working the problem out loud. There had to be a logical explanation for the nearly nonexistent mess. The only person with all the answers right now was in Twilight Spirit though his condition was unknown. The guy placed the car into gear, backed out, and started towards town. With everything on all of their minds the ride would have probably felt short or at least that's how it felt to him as they pulled up to the shop’s entrance.