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The elderly owner of the inn had returned in the time the mass of the group had been gone. As the hearth crackled merrily, Denvar had urged the woman that they would appreciate a quiet evening. Ensuring the suggestion with a few golden marks that Mikhail notice was handed over with a wince. It appeared the brothers suspected a need for an evening with only the newly forming court of Fatima in attendance. Bellinar had arrived a short time later his large wings bristling as Denvar and Gen cornered their wayward brother. Faeril did not as she sat in a large chair before the hearth that warmed the inn's common room. "Where in Hell did you go?" Mikhail would hear Gennar hiss to the younger of his brothers, it appeared the trio did not wish to bother the Black Widow with this matter, nor be overheard by anyone else.

Bellinar shrugged his wings, while he was broad of chest and just as tall as Gen, the Tiger-eye Jeweled Warlord Prince did not look a bit sheepish at the scold. "Needed to take a look at the nearby villages. If there was trouble in them, thought you might like to know." His voice was a deep rumble as he glared back at Gen.

"You should have let us know, brother." His twin, Denvar was wirier than his brothers and his voice was softer but there was an iron in it that Mikhail would realize held a note of suspicion. "We lost Xandar, word is the Queen of Winton decided to ship him off to her betters." That seemed to put the larger twin, Bellinar, off balance as their conversation slipped into quieter tones as they moved towards the bar.

While on the walk back Thom peered up at Dareen and shrugged. His cheeks coloring as he looked down slightly. "I got enough of the Craft to use a bit of it, but never got a jewel." His voice was quiet, subdued as he attempted with all his might not to let anyone other than Dareen to hear him. His was a tale that was known, but not talked about among the Blood. Blood parents expected their children to have some ability with the Craft. They were expected to get a jewel their birthright ceremony. Yet there were some children like Thom who had the parentage, but not the power for a jewel. Not even the low ranking white. It was something that was either accepted and worked around with a supporting family, while everyone else would look down upon such a... disabled child. The other choice was what Thom was doing. The child was cast out, disowned and disinherited. A stain on the family that was best forgotten. There were other ways to handle it, as it varied from person to person.

It was lucky for Thom, however, as they reached the inn in decent time. Saetan had only grown more silent and the air about him seemed to sear with the cold at his displeasure of going into a hostile town. That cold turned into frost on the walls of the inn as he paused to lean against one of the supporting pillars. Thom had been more than pleased to fetch Fatima a mug, if it got him away from the frosty chill that was making Faeril shiver as she stared at the Warlord Prince who wore the darkest Jewel in all the known Realms. The three brothers were bristling and torn between stepping between Saetan and Faeril, the fact they knew they would have no chance was the only thing that was holding them back though Gennar did grip the Healer-Black Widow's chair and look ready to intercept any attack. Dunny, seemingly impervious to most things, was cuddled around Fatima's feet in a tight ball as he sought comfort from his Queen.

The fire was dimming slightly as Saetan finally spoke in a voice that sent a slightly frozen mist into the air. "So you are the witch of the Hourglass who spelled me."

"Unintentionally." The Black Widow's voice was hardly more than a hoarse whisper. It was one of the rare time the group would hear true fear in the voice of the woman.

The laughter that followed was anything but kind. "A fully-trained Black Widow does not do things 'unintentionally'. Especially when your kind have been hunted to be turned or burned." The words were a knife wrapped in satin and just as wicked. "What game do you play?"

"I play no games." Temper flared in Faeril's icy eyes for a moment before she gave an apologetic look to Fatima. "I keep to the old ways, Prince Saetan. I wove for a way to free the Blood. To keep myself from the fire and then wove to call those who could do so to myself. I had no choice in who. To know I would have to walk deep into the Twisted Kingdom of madness-"

"So you say." Saetan mocked. "Those that serve the Queens of late claim much the same. You had a choice." His own fall had come at the hands of a potion brewed by one of her caste, and since then... Saetan could not forget the torment caused by the Black Widows who turned away from the ancient laws of the Blood for this new, twisted regime.

Gen snarled. "So we know. She wove til her hands were cut up from the threads." The Warlord's own eyes gazing at the hovering form of Sybl. Faeril looked pained though she said nothing as she folded her hands in her lap, her jaw tightening as she bit back spiteful words. As much as it pained Faeril, she could not say he was wrong. She had cast a spell that had affected the lives of these people. She had justified it for the 'good of the Blood', just as that excuse was used by others in service of the Twisted Queens. For once, she had no towering pride or waspish anger to throw at a Warlord Prince. Rather Faeril found herself soundly on the receiving end of a short and pointed tempered scolding the likes she had not received in years. It stung her pride, and the Black Widow liked it less that it came from such an esteemed man. Moving a hand up she patted Gen's own, before letting her slim fingers fall back into her lap. "Would you rather look into my mind?" The Eyrien men at her back shouted in unison, utterly denying this was even a suggestion. Faeril felt her wings pull tighter against her back as she debated the wisdom of shouting them down. While it would be expected, she was certain if she made the wrong move Saetan could take it the wrong way and their potential alliance would end.

"I would. Of course, I would want assurance that I will not be interfered with." Saetan agreed with a cold glare for the eyriens.

Bellinar smiled and had no friendliness in his eyes. "Oh, we promise we won't interfere with you." "We are not putting you at risk Ashke!" "Hell's Fire, Mother Night and May the Darkness be merciful. No!" All three brothers seemed united in the fact this was not going to happen and Faeril, who they considered a kinswoman, was not going to be put into such danger. Faeril herself was giving Fatima a pleading look, knowing that the men of her erstwhile family would shout her down over this. The give and take of Blood men and women was sometimes unnessecary at other times it was like trying to maintain a herd of Scelties who had some notion that you were not going to do something. The herding dogs were very effective at herding and not just sheep.

Jandar was very appreciative of the fact that the inn had been emptied; one of the brothers must have sensed something was going on. He sensed SaDiablo’s poor mood, but lingered nearby – not so close he’d get scolded, hopefully. He kept an eye on Fatima, who was still being carried by Sybl. He listened to the conversation between Faeril and SaDiablo with his arms crossed over his chest, gaze flicking from person to person.

“So it is true,” he concluded, not surprised by this point, just affirming the matter. “Personally, I do not mind. Your work assured that I have met my true queen, and without it, I doubt I would have got anywhere near as close to my goals as I am now,” he briefly glanced at the black jeweled Warlord Prince at his side. “Besides, as we are now presumably united in the desire to cross over to Kaeleer, this is necessary. I suggest you let Faeril and the Prince settle their issues themselves. He will not cooperate otherwise, and we will once again be doomed to flee due to Alice’s interference,” he explained.

Of course, he would have preferred had Faeril told them the truth initially, but he understood why she hadn’t done so. Jandar was also aware that the others may perceive this as a great breach of trust – the paranoid SaDiablo certainly did. In turn, the Eyrien brothers sensed his hostility and wished to shield Faeril from his wrath. Jandar sighed. He had said what he had to say, but he wasn’t sure it would be enough to convince the others.

When Jandar, Fatima, Dareen and the rest of the group finally arrived at the inn, Mikhail wasn't that surprised when he saw that SaDiablo was with them. He suspected he would want to see Faeril himself. That said, he wasn't going to defend Faeril in case SaDiablo tried to get some answers from her, as Mikhail himself wasn't that sure about Faeril either. He would only intervene in case fight somehow started. Not much was needed for Mikhail or the other brothers to realize the mood among the group that had just arrived wasn't one of the best. Other than Dunny himself, each one of them seemed to have their own troubles to think about. That didn't prevent Gennar to hiss at Bellinar when he saw him, asking where did he go though.

As Saetan began speaking with Faeril, Mikhail simply stood in the corner, staring at both of them with cold, analytical and sharp eyes. Saetan's words were sharp but Mikhail would make of his words, his own as he questioned her about the spell she wove. As they continued, Faeril asked if SaDiablo would rather look into her own mind to be sure her words were true. Such proposition made the Eyrien brothers shocked as they all reacted accordingly, especially since Saetan himself agreed with such proposition. Despite how outraged the brothers were, Mikhail simply stood in silence, watching their conversation.

Dareen looked at the boy and frowned. She put the pieces together rather quickly. "Ah, right. Sorry, kid." Dareen said quietly, empathetically. It was all she could offer, given his reticence to talk about it. She didn't mean to stumble upon a bad part of his history. Of course the backstories of lonely children on the street was rarely a pleasant one. Dareen noted to be more careful.

Once she was in the room, it turned out she was wrong. Faeril had been having a shitty day. Dareen wasn't going to compound it by sticking her nose into her business. Mikhail was dropping flies out of the air with his icy aura. Dareen leaned up against the wall a few feet away from him, watching the interaction unfold. Things were tense. In the way that Dareen felt inequipped to handle. These kinds of weird Blood social interactions weren't really her forte. She preferred talking things out with other mercenary groups or village authorities. People who lived in...well, the real world, as far as Dareen was concerned. Not some other world of webs and spells.

The brothers were upset. It was kind of funny. They really did fawn over her. Dareen looked over to Fatima. "I think we need to hear your thoughts." She said quietly. Dareen was under the impression that the Black Widow was the leader of their group, but it was becoming clearer to her that Fatima was the reason all of this was happening.

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When he heard the words 'Black Widow' he could not help but snap his eyes onto the slight woman. His eyes narrowed and he felt a surge of distrust. Of course, he would, he had been taught to fear them as all in the empire did. They could break men. Sucked their bone marrow out while they still lived. Cursed those who displeased them. He suddenly felt as if he were on extremely uneven ground. He stuck to the shadows, doing his best not to be seen by the vile woman. How could his perfect Queen consort with such evil?

He narrowed his eyes as Saetan wished to look into the woman's mind. Didn't he know that was dangerous? She could trap him there or turn his mind to mush. This was an awful plan. Of course, the Widow was allowing him to look, because she knew he wouldn't get out. He had half a mind to tell Saetan as much but something told him that speaking now would not end well for him. He lowered his gaze to watch Fatima.

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She smiled, accepting the drink and lifting it to her lips. She sipped the frothy liquid, enjoying the bitter flavor course down her throat. She was not paying too much mind to the affairs before her. She was just so tired. And dirty. She wanted a hot bath and a nice nap. The conversation was going about as well as she suspected it would. She was not prepared for Faeril to straight-up admit to catching them all in her web. Did it matter? Fatima trusted Faeril, the woman wouldn't go about ensnaring men just to suit her fancy. No, Fatima had this wild idea that while the woven spell did bind them together it only bound willing souls. For no unwilling soul would do for Fatima's Court. She would never allow it.

She set her mug on the table in front of her. It seemed they were all looking for her verdict. She wished they would have held off on all of this until she'd been able to truly rest. She rubbed her fingertips against her temple before looking up at them. Dareen even implored her to speak and something twisted in her heart. She would feel badly about reacting this way later. But for now, she was tired and grumpy and sick of people harping on her. She longed for the freedom she's had in her younger years.

"Would everyone kindly shut the fuck up?" she said darkly. She was thankful for the silence which followed her quiet proclamation. "If this is what Faeril chooses to do, none of you can stand in her way. Stop acting like you could and instead focus on things you can actually do, hmm?" She glared down the three brothers, her patience on a spider's thread. Always attempting to protect the headstrong woman but never in the right ways. Stupid foolish men. She was getting awfully sick of them. Far too many of them in this room in fact.

She turned bleary, tired eyes upon the Black. "As for you, should Faeril come out of this harmed in anyway..." who was she kidding, she couldn't do anything to Saetan. He was her better. "Well, I should say I'll be quite cross. Even if you don't like what answers you might find do not hurt her. You may have no use for any of us, but we need her." She sipped her beer again and leaned heavily against the table, massaging her head again and willing the stubborn headache to take its leave. She'd drained too much of her own energy to heal it as she normally might. "That good enough for all of you?" she asked bitterly.

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The three brothers glared back at the tiny Queen, but the twins did back down each taking a step away from the Black Widow-Healer. Bellinar was the quicker of the two, some might notice. Gennar, however, remained where he was. The eldest of the brothers glared at the tiny Queen, but his mouth snapped shut on any possible argument as he gripped the back of Faeril's chair. His large leathery wings closing tight to his back. Faeril reached up a hand and patted Gen's own, the large Eyrien glowering at Saetan and nodding slowly. "I will not interfere, Ladies." It was the only concession they would get out of him. If there was one common trait among the Eyrien men in all the race, it was their stubbornness to hold onto a willful temper.

Faeril, for her part, gave Jandar small thankful glance. She had known her spell would cause trouble if it would have come out, but it seemed so unlikely a thing, she was a bit startled it had come out at all. Yet, they all had a right to their reactions and Faeril could not fault the glowering looks she felt coming from the nearly mute Sybl. The young man had grown up fearing and distrusting Black Widows, with reason. Turning her icy gaze to meet the golden eyes of the Warlord Prince, the room dropped from both awarenesses. Saetan had not bothered to answer Fatima aside from an artfully raised brow and a polite incline to his dark head.

Second ticked by then minutes. Nearly a half of an hour. The Eyrien brothers grew restless and Gen was ever a statue as he watched the Black Jeweled Warlord-Prince. Thom hovered at Dareen's elbow, having returned and now found himself a bit at a loss as what to do. The boy rather like the group well enough except for the Eyrien brother, Bellinar and he was hardly sure about what the legendary Black Jewel's intentions were. Some gossip said he liked to assist those who suffered under the twisted Queens. The boy was hardly sure about that... "If he's on our side against them Queens why don't he just use all the power people say he has and blast them to nothing?" Surely it was something the Black Jewel could do? The question hadn't really been aimed at anyone, but it hovered in the air, spoken softly by the boy without him being aware he said aught.

Dunny cocked his head, and gave a whine up at Fatima. 'Perhaps if the Warlord Prince harms the Healer-of-Minds you could bite him? Or I could bite him for you? I know where to bite troublesome men. Should I bite those grumpy Eyriens? Why is the silent one act like a cat around a pack of Scelties? Are we going to chase him up a tree?' There was a privateness to the conversation as Dunny stood on his hind legs to lick at the Queen's dainty hand. 'You are a good Queen. You snarl very well.' The Sceltie Kindred approved.

The link between the members of the Hourglass was a delicate dance. As Saetan returned to himself, he looked astonished and insulted. Yet, there was a trace of bitterness in the golden eyes as he bowed slightly to the seated Black Widow. To any versed in the delicacies of the Courts, it was a bow of a man to a lady of Aristocratic status. "It is an honor to meet the last of the Ashkevron Black Widows." His voice was still cold, yet there was sincerity in it as he studied the tired-looking Eyrien. "Though, you have forgotten some key elements from your apprenticeship."

"I have grown desperate." Faeril croaked slightly sounding like a woman far older than her actual years, looking pale and wane. "You did not need to peer so deeply, Priest." Gen gripped the woman's shoulders and held her steady, worry etched into his face as he looked between the two. Faeril's hand did little to help the man's worries as it shook when she patted his arm. "I am well enough Gen."

"Ulterior motives are usually hidden quite deep. I have made it so far, by being wary of any possible schemes. If I were to be lax, then I would find myself in a perdictament. One I would rather avoid. Though I do congratulate you. You learned your Craft well, Lady Ashkevron. Though you walk a dangerous line, playing with such delicate threads that weave deep in the Twisted Kingdom." There was a warning in those words that skimmed the surface for the rest of the group. Anyone who would know something more of the Black Widows would know the warning was a caution. Faeril was stepping on a delicate Blood Law and pulling threads in the Twisted Kingdom that could lead her to madness. Turning his attention from the Black Widow he studied Fatima. "I will accompany you to Kaeleer, but there is one deterrent." He touched the band of compliance about his neck. A collar for the Queen's 'pet'. "Breaking free of Dorothea will start a war and a Realm-wide hunt to find and slaughter anyone of Dhemlan blood in Terreille." It was why the Black had no broken free before though he was certainly powerful enough to do so.

Fatima snapped, and Jandar glanced at her in surprise – but also appreciation. It certainly was one way to resolve the situation. A very small, nearly involuntary smile stretched his lips at his Queen’s words. He rather liked this snarly side of hers. Finally, after a silent glaring match, the Eyriens relented. When Faeril looked in his direction, Jandar offered her a polite nod, a nonverbal ‘you’re welcome’.

He waited patiently, though he did walk over to the bar to perch himself on a stool. Whatever SaDiablo was doing to Faeril, it was taking a while. During the wait, Thom asked a fairly naïve question, though Jandar did not fault the young one’s ignorance. “It is not so simple,” the Warlord said. “The Queens have ruled in this way for centuries. Even if Prince SaDiablo were free to go against them, he could not beat them all by himself. Despite being the strongest known person of the two realms, yes. To further complicate matters…” he trailed off, and pointedly glanced at the black jeweled man’s collar. “Well, better let him explain himself, if he wants to,” he warned.

When the Prince resurfaced from perusing her mind, he did indeed explain his lack of action so far. He also cautioned Faeril against being reckless, and revealed her as a member of aristocracy. “I did not know you were so prominent a person,” Jandar commented, rising an eyebrow her way. “And though I would not dare caution a Black Widow on her own Craft, please do not overwork yourself to madness.” It was apparent he didn't know exactly what ‘weaving into the Twisted Kingdom’ meant besides it being dangerous, but he definitely didn’t want to see Faeril loose herself to her esoteric craft; she was an important ally.

Then, he swung his head in SaDiablo’s direction, frowning in commiseration. “So that is what they have been holding over you,” he stated. “Nonetheless…We should head to Kaeleer. There, we can gather forces and plan a counterattack. I dare say there are still a fair number of people who would be willing to follow your lead, Prince,” Jandar assured, gazing at the man earnestly, his deep respect for Saetan apparent.

Mikhail didn't moved a muscle while the others continued talking among themselves, instead, he simply listened, keeping a close eye on Faeril's reactions and her expression. Even as Fatima told everyone to shut up, in a surprising outburst, he still didn't move his eyes. Even though he was listening to everything that was being said, while keeping a part of his attention on SaDiablo, it was clear that Faeril was the one who had the other half of his attention.

Fatima's words made the Eyrien calm down a bit. Just like she said, since Faeril herself was fine with SaDiablo looking into her mind, nothing could be done and in case he tried something, even though he was a black, he was severely outnumbered. Still, Mikhail would not move nor say anything unless he had no other choice. After all... SaDiablo wasn't the one who needed answers.

It didn't take long until SaDiablo and Faeril were done. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to the black widow other than being a bit exhausted. Not only that, but after seeing what he wanted, SaDiablo seemed to have found nothing which made him even more suspicious, instead, he chose to agree to go with them to Kaeeler, although the consequences of doing so, just as Saetan himself would say, weren't good ones.

Mikhail heard as Jandar mentioned about how they should probably still go to Kaeeler and that Saetan still held enough influence to be able to gather allies. Nodding to what he said, he gave a few steps forward for the first time since the group began talking.

"At this point, war is almost inevitable..." he said, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was incredibly annoyed by that fact as he took a cold glare towards Faeril. Despite the silence, the message behind that stare would be clear. He blamed her for dragging him into such a mess.

"I don't think there is any possibility of dialogue with Dorothea. Your best bet would to break free from her anyways... And be ready for what will come next." he finished, with an annoyed sigh.

Dareen eyes widened, pursing her lips, as Fatima made her thoughts clear. That wasn't my fault, was it? Dareen thought. It was a little funny hearing such crude language come out of a Queen. Thom had elected to stay by her side, and she couldn't blame him. She had taken a liking to the kid, even though that was normally something she didn't do. Hopefully he wasn't planning on looking up to her.

He asked a question, and Jandar answered pretty succinctly. A practical response. "And, killing the heads of state alone doesn't get rid of the power structures they created to support them. If that makes any sense. Ruling a country requires more than just one person. If we're gonna do this, we gotta do it the right way." She added.

Nonetheless, things got quickly underway. Things were tense, but Faeril emerged from Saetan's entry into her mind unharmed, if worse for wear. Dareen exhaled.

Then, Saetan brought up what was keeping him here. Dareen scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, just genocide? Not a big deal." She said sarcastically, crossing her arms. "Rotten bitch." She murmered under her breath. The others seemed to think it was a necessary sacrifice. "Well-" Dareen sat up straight, glancing around at the others. "There's gotta be another way, right? Can't we trick her? Make her think the Black is still here?" She offered.

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She smiled at the Sceltie, gently running her hands along his face and neck. 'Oh, sweet boy, believe me. If he hurts her I will most definitely bite him. But for now, wait and watch. No sense in stirring up the herd when they're on high alert, right?' She kissed the dog's furry face a few times before turning to attention back to her beer and the Black Widow. "Darkness help us if he does hurt her," she thought to herself and sipped.

As she had predicted - chanced - it went fine even the Black offered to join them in their cause. Her spine stiffened at the thought of masses slaughtered. But then, masses were being slaughtered now, were they not? She listened as each of her trusty team voiced opinions and thoughts. Dareen's idea had some weight to it, though perhaps, in the end, being no more than a pipe dream. Her own mother had kept her hidden from Dorothea but that was only possible because the woman hardly knew of her existence in the first place. How does one hide the black so entirely? Someone so very important to that beast of a woman that she kept him chained to her.

"To discuss the possibility of hiding him and deceiving Dorothea we would need to know the nature of the bonds she has sewn into that ring. What traps she has placed and what eyes and ears she keeps around." She rubbed her face and sighed before throwing back the last of her beer and standing. "I cannot think, I need to rest. Please continue to discuss among yourselves. I just need an hour or two to rest. First I must speak with you Sybl please come with me. And then I would speak to you next, Widow." Fatima stood, a little unsteady on her feet. Luckily the table was there to keep her upright. Not drunk, just weak. She spared Saetan a single glance before she made her way into the sleeping quarters she shared with the other girls. Sybl trailed like a sad puppy behind her - doing his best to keep a great distance between himself and Faeril.

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He entered the room behind his magnificent Queen. Despite her obvious fatigue, she shone so brightly. A single star. She pulled bloodied clothes from her body and let them drop to the floor before moving to the sink. He felt something slip past him and the Sceltie jumped up and settled himself onto one of the beds, watching Sybl. Using a cloth at the sink she scrubbed blood from her arms and face. Sybl watched her in silence, unsure of his purpose in the room. If he was in a bedroom it was for one thing only and did this woman require such a service from him? She had so many of her own men and yet she chose him - a stranger. A giddy feeling rose with his heart into his throat.

She set aside the stained cloth and pulled a nightdress from the air. After dressing she sat on the bed, leaning heavily against the pillows. Using her foot she patted the end of the bed. "Come sit," she said in drained tones. She seemed like she might fall asleep on the spot. He took the direction and sat before unbuttoning his shirt. Her eyes grew wide and she was across the bed with her hands on his. "Stop, no.... no no, oh, I'm so sorry. That's not... I truly just wish to speak." He felt his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears turn bright red. Her warm hands left him and he rebuttoned the shirt.

"I did not intend for you to find out about the Widow. Not yet at least, not until I was sure I could trust you. But I think that I can. Right? I feel it here," she touched her chest over the nightdress. "You feel it too yes?" He nodded shyly.

"I knew it... the moment," She held up a hand and stopped him from speaking. His voice was cracked and hoarse and it did hurt to say anything.

"We have a link, use it freely. I am always open to hear you," she said.

'I knew the moment that I saw you that I was yours. I've been waiting such a long time. I would die for you.' Was that too far? Her face fell and she looked so sad. He wanted to hug her and do whatever it took to make her feel better.

"Don't die for me," she responded. "Live. If you do anything for me though, let it be that you do not speak of what has transpired here or at the caves." He nodded.

'Of course,' he said, 'Not a word of it shall I speak or think to anyone else.'

"Sybl..." Oh the sound of his name as it came from her lips!

'Yes?'

"Come to Kaeleer with us."

'I could not dream of leaving you.'

"I am glad to hear it. I accept you into my circle with all of my heart." Her smiled brightened his whole being. Her light-filled all those dark places inside of him and for the first time he felt wanted. Actually wanted. He threw himself across the bed and embraced her, laying his head on her chest. She stroked his head and softly hummed. Her dress was getting wet. He quickly sat up and realized he had been sobbing. He had been clinging to this little Queen and sobbing like a child.

'I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't-' She stopped him speaking again and used the sleeve of her nightdress to wipe tears from his cheeks.

"No need to apologize. I think you could have used that hug a very long time ago. Now, please ask Faeril if she would come to me?" Sybl nodded and left the room feeling like his whole life had changed for the better. He was living a dream and if this were a dream he hoped he would never wake from it.

That was until he stood back in the main room with a group of people who likely hated his guts. And now he had to go talk to the WIDOW. He shrunk in on himself, trying to appear small despite his height. "My Lady," he croaked quietly, approaching the woman. He offered her a quick bow. "She wishes to see you." And then he walked to the furthest corner as quickly and with as much grace as he could possibly balance. He was terrified of the woman and his best efforts at looking cool left him appearing more like a dog running off with his tail between his legs.

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Faeril nodded to Sybl before she rose from the chair. There was hardly any point to saying much to the man, she had seen the hatred in his eyes and the fear, yet the Healer in her had to offer. To try to ease some of the pain. "I could try to heal that for you, if you would like." She offered in a soft voice meant only for Sybl's ears as he retreated. Not bothering to wait for an answer, she swept up the stairs and into the room where the Queen waited. Pausing, she made sure the door was tightly shut behind her before she turned to face Fatima. "I will not apologize for what I did. I spun a web to draw power to save the Realm. It is one of the reasons that I am so weakened." Her chin was stubbornly set as she gazed with a challenging look at Fatima. "I asked for power, for a Queen. Witch pulled your threads to me, but you could have walked away." Witch, was the soul of the Blood. She was akin to a goddess, yet was tied to humanity and the Blood. The Kindred and humans. She was what awaited those who became Whispers in the Darkness after their bodies died and their jewels gave up the last of their psychic power. To many Witch was merely a tale, a story.

Fatima watched the black widow with wide eyes, allowing her to finish her rambling rant before she responded. "Oh, I don't care about any of that. Nothing to do with me really. You were trying to tell me something earlier about Dareen before I got caught up with Sybl."

Faeril blinked. Her wings drooping as she gave a small laugh. A wane smile crossing her features, relief. Then the woman became impassive again, made of ice. "She has killed Black Widows and others among her band of mercenaries. Innocents." True it was by the manipulation of the Queens, but Faeril still felt the traces of anger for Dareen's actions.

"Oh," she replied simply. How was one to respond to such a statement? The relief the Black Widow experienced at her lack of interest in meddling in the dark places did not go unnoticed. However there were other things to consider. "And how did she explain this to you? And why you?". It pale gold eyes studied the woman carefully. Nothing would go unnoticed

"I do not know why me. Perhaps because I am one of the caste she hunted." She sighed, looking perplexed and slightly angry. "I cannot absolve her of her actions in the past. You know we hid ourselves well if we did not wish to bend before the Twisted Queens. Must I say they killed some innocents for money?" The woman was pacing with such a mix of emotions. "I cannot fault a child for their ignorance, but I cannot forgive murder, Fatima. Dareen wanted to know why she had been brought along. Why she was still with us. Why I did not rip into her mind- unclean doing that..." Faeril shook her head. "I do not feel she is a threat, but I cannot... forget."

Fatima listened patiently, stroking Dunny's fur. Her eyes followed the pacing woman. She felt oddly calm in the face of Faeril's distress. "Has she asked you to forget?" Fatima inquired?

"No. Rather she seems to think my decision on her actions is a fulcrum."

"I suppose in a way you are the one shed sinned against." She sighed softly and said, "she has been a good friend to us and has helped us. She deserves than chance to be better. What do you think?'

Faeril sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair. "I cannot forgive the killing of innocents, but she has done no wrong to us and the chance is... reasonable." She did not wish to say fair. Faeril had seen 'fair' and it was a pyre of witchfire.

"mmmm, I'll talk to her after I sleep. I don't have the energy for that now but I trust her enough not to murder you all while I rest. One last concern. I am low on herbs I need to brew a certain potion I need. Now is not the time to put my men further in edge. My Moon Time can come once we are safe in Kaeleer." Wearily she sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face. "Do you think you can help me?"

"I have the herbs." Faeril sounded relieved almost. "I will brew you the potion."

"Thank you, it is much appreciated." After a long pause in which she studied the woman she asked, "are you okay? He didn't do anything to you right?"

Faeril gave a humorous chuckle. "He was ruthlessly through and knows my mind better than I know myself."

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Saetan studied Dareen through narrowed eyes. He did not particularly trust the woman or any woman in general. Though her idea was not an overly bad suggestion, though she seemed unaware of what exactly a Band of Compliance was. "It is not as simple as making a simulacrum of myself and remaining in Terrielle." His long fingers touched the band about his throat. "When I remove this it will drain a portion of my strength and lash out at the one wearing the controlling ring. The leash to my collar, so to speak. That will let Dorothea know I have broken our bargain and the genocide will begin." His eyes were hard and the air in the room was chilly as he studied the group. He had never wanted to make the deal, to begin with but he valued the lives of the Dhemlan people. That they would find suffering because of him? It pained Saetan a great deal more than any torment Dorothea had heaped upon him. "I am hesitant at the thought of leaving the Dhemlan Blood to death in Terrielle. There has been enough blood spilt, yet you are eager for more?" The look he gave Jandar was one of cool disapproval. Saetan was a man of honor. Perhaps he was ruthless and left a trail of bodies at times, but he was a Warlord Prince and one who had ruled over the Dhemlan Territories in Kaeleer and Terreille. Simply leaving his people did not sit well with him.

"We have until tomorrow. Then it's a luncheon with Lady Alice." Denvar noted sourly as he stood and made to leave. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I say we rest and think. It's been a long enough day." Thom, the young lad, was looking nervously about the group as one would when tensions were high with so many Warlord Princes involved. Bellinar shrugged his large shoulders and moved towards the door, Mikhail would notice there was an especially fat wallet on the man's back right pocket. Something Bellinar did not have before.

Dareen nodded, shrugging slightly. "I figured it wouldn't be easy. I'm guessing the one wearing the ring is Dorothea herself? I'm sure you've probably tried all the easy plans to disable that thing already. But there's gotta be some way, right? Unless we just take everyone of Dhemlan blood with us through the portal, or figure out some Crafty way to make it so she doesn't know, we can't make progress without people dying." Dareen rubbed her chin. "So, I dunno. Seems we're in a tough spot." Dareen had enough blood on her hands already. She didn't want to help condemn an entire people to death. But the moral reason wasn't enough. Some part of her wanted to rationalize it. Why not? Why not leave them all to die?

Well, Saetan doesn't want it, she thought. So coming up with a plan will make him loyal to us. Plus, the Dhemlan people are loyal to him. If they're alive, they can be organized in the revolution. Genocide is also bad the economy.

There. She breathed a sigh of relief. And also, ontop of all that, it's the right thing to do.

Dareen tipped her head towards Denvar. "Sure." Dareen's posture relaxed. Hopefully Faeril or someone could come up with something. Dareen didn't get up from her seat, content to just sit down and think for a little bit. After a moment she extended a hand and summoned her sketch book, opened to a fresh page and thought about what to draw. She decided to draw the mouth of the cave Saetan had taken shelter in.

Mikhail heard Dareen and Fatima's words with a rather grim expression as they discussed if there was another possibility, maybe a way to trick Dorothea... Something which was highly unlikely, having in mind how hard it was being trying to hide from her. Interestingly enough, after giving her brief input, Fatima stated her desire to retire herself to rest, although she did request Sybl's presence with her, which was a bit strange.

Turning his attention towards Saetan as he started speaking about the band around his throat, Mikhail quickly had his suspicions confirmed. Tricking someone like Dorothea would be incredibly difficult, especially on this particular situation, seeing how thorough she was regarding Saetan.

"I didn't think it would be simple... But it has far exceeded my expectations how complicated the situation we are in." he said, sighing.

"Dorothea was... quite thorough in her small 'leash'. I honestly have no idea on how to bypass it. But again, I am not the one taking any decisions." he said, shaking his head. Something about the way he formulated that phrase would make others question themselves if Mikhail would really be bothered by such genocide though...

With their small 'reunion' being mostly over after Denvar's closing words, Mikhail was about to go rest himself, until he noticed something that drew his attention. A noticeable volume on Bellinar's back pocket which wasn't there before. Due to the types of people he worked with, Mikhail knew very well that money almost always was trouble. Especially if one didn't know it's origins. Knowing that a direct confrontation would lead nowhere with the lack of proof and knowledge he had right now, Mikhail decided to postpone his rest, waiting a bit before going out himself and using his sight shield, following Bellinar to keep an eye on him.

Frustrated, Jandar ran a palm through his hair, the fingers tangling into a few tresses before he removed the hand from his head. “And what have the centuries of you being captured brought? Has the situation not been the worst, already? Unwillingness to act seems a bit hypocritical to me, Prince,” he confessed, the impatient aggravation evident in his tone.

With a sigh, he grimaced, and thought on the situation. “Look…Must the collar be removed before we cross over to Kaeleer? Will even passing into another realm alert her?” he questioned. The Warlord was not certain how the collar functioned, and hoped SaDiablo knew more. “And if not a simulacrum of yourself…Could the connection between your collar and her ring be faked? Simulated? What counts as removed anyway, is it as soon as it’s off your neck? Maybe it’d be possible to put it on someone else without triggering the alarm?” He hoped at least one of these suggestions would spark an idea that SaDiablo could use.

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"The Band of Compliance has no latch. As soon as it is broken, Dorothea will know." Saetan's voice was cold as he stood stiffly. Wounded from his punishment at the hands of a Queen and insulted. Angered by the drop in the temperature. The air becoming chilly as the windows fogged and the candles dimmed. "The centuries have kept many alive who would otherwise be dead and I am loath to let the human hounds that Dorothea keeps as her personal army loose on the people of Dhemlan. Death would be a kindness, but a genocide? It would be a wrenching thing for a people so long-lived to watch their entire nation, culture, crumble away into nothing." For one of the Dhemlan people, Saetan felt a keen disappointment in Jandar's demand that his inaction had brought nothing to the Dhemlan people. Saetan wished he had something more he could offer besides the small, petty businesses that helped the Dhemlan people, the underhanded way he stole Dorothea's entertainment away from her. How he pranced and preened and distracted the Queens from looking too closely at Dhemlan. He yearned to escape and break free of Dorothea. To rip the woman to pieces along with the rest of her petty little puppets.

"I shall find some place where I can rest." It was Gen who spoke then, his wings rustling. "Take my bed. I'll stay on watch." The Eyrien offered, the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince inclining his head in acceptance of that offer.

Bellinar was weaving through the streets as he headed towards the edge of the town. A seedy tavern where a rough group of men hovered about the door. They stiffened at the approach of an Eyrien Warlord Prince, having fought such men before and knowing the bloodlust in them. "I'm here to see your boss."

"He's inside. You followed?" One man a Challiot fellow with a long face and a squashed nose answered around a cigarette sticking out the side of his mouth.

"No." The answer was short and tempered with rage at the insult as he stepped through the door. If Mikhail hung about the entry he would hear the whispers of 'fool', 'traitor', and 'winged bat'. The slurs against the Eyrien man an evil whisper as they seemed keen on some prize. Mercenaries. Thugs. If the Dea Al Mon followed Bellinar within the seedy in it would be a sight. The interior was large enough, but benches had been repaired several times, tables were nailed down, the floor was littered with signs of previous fights that had broken out. A man sat in a corner as more of the group of thugs spread out through the tavern, talking loudly and boasting about the Black Widows and outlaws they had rounded up. Bellinar seemed to ignore them as he approached the man. "We have a problem. The Widow I protect is surrounded by even more powerful people. My price went up." The Eyrien looked furious, frustrated as he thumped his first on the table.

Faeril sighed and departed Fatima's rooms. The herbs she needed were grown in the tavern keeper's small garden and she figured she would leave a small offering of marks for the fresh herbs. They were always better to work with. Plus, it would give her a bit of breathing room from a inn full of sharp tempers and problems. Gardens always had a calming effect. 'Just like weaving, but I only get to do it half of the year.' Faeril thought absently as she stooped to gather up the herbs. Gen and Denvar must be within watching the Black. Meaning Bellinar was being polite and watching from a distance most likely. If not? It wasn't like she couldn't defend herself. Pulling her sleeves up she looked about for a small towel as she spotted a weed that was going to strangle one of the necessary herbs. A shed lay in the shadows of the stables, approaching it carefully she felt for the latch and sighed. The woman, the innkeeper, really needed to lock up her belongings better. In a town going through trouble... Looting would start if Alice turned out to be as cruel as she was thought to be.

Ahmar Aezil was relaxing, his booted feet resting on the table infront of him. His gloved hands were interlaced over his midsection. His handsome, stubbled brown face, marked with familiar red tattoos, was shadowed by his hood and obscured by his scarf. Dark eyes peered up at Bellinar as he approached. Though his mouth was hidden, Ahmar's eyes carried his polite smile for him. He didn't get up or react much at all to the Warlord Prince's bold approach.

"Bellinar. Your price? Your honor and pride wasn't enough, I suppose." The tone was cordial, but there was no attempt to disguise his contempt. He rose a placating hand pre-emptively.

"I understand you meant your financial gains- and that will be discussed. Gotta pay off those gambling debts somehow, hmm? But for now, I'd like to know about these powerful people protecting the Black Widow. Who are they? How many? What jewels to they wear?" He removed his feet from the table, placing them back on the wooden floor boards. He interlaced his fingers in a cradle and leaned his elbows on the tables surface.

"You understand that the more heavily protected she is, the more difficult it is to take her alive. An assassination is much easier than a kidnapping. I accepted this condition in order to acquire your services. You tell me where she is, as long as I promise to take her alive. However, we are in the same town, now, closer than ever to the target. Hypothetically, we don't need you anymore. We were to strike soon, and now you've come bringing me news like this." He shook his head.

"And the first thing to cross your mind is how much money you stand to gain?" He raised an eyebrow. "If I were you, I'd be thinking about what I could do to help ensure the survival of my beloved Faeril. And how to most prove myself useful. I'm not just going to callously toss my men into the meat grinder of these 'even more powerful people'. You're in a precarious position, here, Bellinar." Ahmar evaluated the situation.

"For example, instead of barging in here and demanding more money, perhaps come to me with a solution, or a plan? Like this:" Ahmar leaned back now. He splayed his hands out in the open air, as if to illustrate the possibilities.

He put on a pretty good, if exaggerated, imitation of Bellinar. "Ahmar, our operation just got more difficult. The Black Widow is more protected than ever. However, in order to make myself useful, I, Bellinar, have decided to aid you directly. I will lure Faeril's defenders, or perhaps even Faeril herself, out of position. That way we can secure her safely. None of your men get hurt or killed, and most importantly to me, Bellinar, Faeril continues to draw breathe." He lowered his hands into a shrug, then crossed his arms. Some of his men chuckled, watching their leader work. Ahmar's lack of respect towards the Warlord Prince was apparent. Or rather, his dislike of him as a person. The men in the bar had quieted down a little to listen more closely. It was rare to see him interact with someone that disgusted him. Usually, he just ignored them. But he was playing mind games, now.

His voice switched back to it's normal, lighter tone. "Or, I suppose I could just stuff a few extra coins in your hands. Then we keep trailing them for longer and longer until someone else finds them first, and a bloody battle ensues. Or, I just lose interest and leave, and a much less understanding a charitable group of men come along and take the contract themselves." He counted the alternative possibilites on his fingers.

Then he leaned forward, squinting. Now some sardonic wit and sarcasm more clearly entered his tone. "Or, and this would be a real shame, I just keep the money and kill you. Then I go kill Faeril and take her head (literally take her actual head by the way, some people are quite insistent on that) to my client, collect our payment and be on our way. Which would...suck, right? That would suck for everyone. It would suck the most for you, though. Kind of a fail state, really. For me it would just be an inconvenience." He relaxed in his chair again.

"So, I dunno. Your price has gone up, sure. But we're in the home stretch now, Bellinar. Faeril is only a few streets over. And you want to re-negotiate now? Personally, I like the first plan that the hypothetical, smarter, and more handsome version of you suggested. You lure Faeril or her defenders out of position, we snatch her up, and we pay you even more for your services." Ahmar concluded. He was having a little fun with this.

"Everyone's happy. Except Faeril, of course. But, she'll come to appreciate this in time, won't she? What you've done for her?" He smiled a condescending smile beneath his cowl.

He put up both his hands apologetically, closing his eyes for a moment. "Sorry. I got caught up in the sound of my own voice. You were about to tell me the specific details of these new defenders, if I recall." He rubbed his chin and finally stopped talking, letting Bellinar speak his mind.

Mikhail continued to follow Bellinar and paying attention to where he was going. Even though he was using a sight shield, he still took precautions in order to not being seen. Arriving in a tavern in the very edge of the town, Mikhail watched as Bellinar approached the entrance, where a group of men waited by the door. One didn't need to work for the underworld to realize that that was a very shady place. When Bellinar mentioned that he wanted to speak with the 'boss', Mikhail knew that there was something definitely wrong. It didn't seem to be the first time he was going there.

Following Bellinar inside, Mikhail tried his best to avoid the thugs, hiding in the shadows and keep a low profile, as he knew very well that his sight shield wasn't infallible. When inside, instead of being distracted by the state of the place, with tables being nailed to the floor and ample signs of repairs after previous fights, he focused entirely on listening Bellinar and the supposed 'boss' he was going to meet with, trying to discern any remarkable characteristics that could identify them while being sure to extract as much information of the situation as he could. Mikhail already had some suspicions that Bellinar might be either betraying the group or selling information about them, but the moment he spoke to one of the man, whom apparently was the 'boss' of the place, the possibility of Bellinar being working for the enemy became even stronger.

As the conversation between Bellinar and the man continued, with the latter giving Mikhail enough information for him to fully grasp what was going on, Mikhail couldn't help but feel irritated. Not only he never liked to work with a group due to these exact type of problems, having someone disrupting his plans was incredibly annoying. The man, who revealed himself as Ahmar, apparently was working for a client, whom for some reason preferred to have Faeril alive, although the former didn't seem too worried in simply taking her head to his client if Bellinar proved to be too much of an issue due to his greed. With Ahmar now having all the information about Faeril and her group that he needed in order to act, it was just a matter of time before he and his men made their move, which made the situation even more urgent.

Having already listened what he needed to listen and gathered enough information, Mikhail headed for the exit, trying his best to not be noticed. Although it was part of his own rules to never leave any loose ends, the fact that he wasn't working by himself meant that he couldn't simply act like he normally did and even though he wanted to eliminate Bellinar and maybe even Ahmar right now to avoid future problems, it would be better to first return to Faeril, after all, Ahmar and Bellinar, at least for now, didn't know that Mikhail, was already aware of their little scheme. Something which could be used against them, no matter how much information they had about Faeril and her group.

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Bellinar gritted his teeth, his large wings spreading slightly as he rose partway out of his chair. This entire 'bargain' had been doomed from the start, but his debts in gambling had made two options very clear to the Warlord Prince. Sell his service to one of the Twisted Queens or sell out his dear friend and ensure her safety with the action. Faeril, though stubborn and prideful, was not a fool. She would see the wisdom in heeding to a Queen's word. Did she not already with Lady Fatima? That thought jolted through the Warlord Prince as an icy dagger. The Lady Fatima was leading them on a dangerous path that could end with their deaths and it appeared he was the only one who saw it. She spoke pretty words but was flighty and given to her whims just as much as some of the other Queens. A true Eyrien Queen would not be like that. Eyries were far better than to give to such petty things.

"That was what I was offering." No, he had been greedy but Bellinar would never admit that. "Faeril is weakened and the group is leery and nervous with the presence of more potential threats and allies. At the first hard task they will shatter and she, Faeril, will be left defenseless. It will be easy enough to guide her to safety and allow you to take her to a proper Queen." Grimacing, the Eyrien shrugged as he saw no reason to mention that Saetan SaDiablo was in the midst of the Queen's little 'Court'. It would not do for these mercenaries to frighten and skitter away like mice. His debtors would slip a Band of Compliance on him, and then where would he be?!

The minutes would pass and an hour would stretch. The trowel Faeril had been using lay in the garden, the ground about her scuffled and plants broken from a short and silent struggle. Knocking on the door to the womens' rooms, Gendar cleared his throat. "Faeril?" Pushing open the door, he frowned seeing only Fatima. "Lady. Have you seen the Black Widow?" It was not like him to be unable to locate Faeril. She only really had two places to go, her room and the common room. Denvar and he had been patrolling the downstairs discussing 'family matters' in quiet tones. Thom, the boy, had scampered off. Most likely for sleep. As for Saetan? The man had taken Gen up on his offer, though he had been tense about it. 'Probably worried he would get jumped and sold out, reasonable fear.' Gen noted.

With no time to waste, Mikhail made his way back to the inn after having heard what he needed to hear. While he was careful when getting out of the tavern where Bellinar went, the moment he got further away, his priority moved away from staying quiet and undetected to be fast. The information he had was a critical one and he had to relay it to Faeril as soon as possible in order to prepare to what was about to come. While Mikhail tried to reach the inn as fast as possible, he still took the basic precautions in order to not be seen, like keep up his sight shield and try to avoid overly crowded places and moving through alleyways.

It took some time until he finally arrived at the inn. The garden, the first place Mikhail saw, was a complete mess, showing a clear signal of a fight while Fatima and Gennar talked to each other in the middle of the garden. Much to Mikhail's dismay, Faeril was nowhere to be seen and judging by what Gennar just asked to Fatima, he also didn't know her whereabouts.

"Damn! Fatima, Gennar, where is Faeril? This is of utmost importance." Mikhail said, with a very serious and urgent tone, still a bit exhausted from having ran all the way to the inn. Judging by the state of the garden, Mikhail feared that the worse had already happened and someone took Faeril.

"We need to find her right now, at all costs!" he continued, sounding rather nervous as he said so.

"Bellinar... has betrayed us. He sold Faeril and the group and... I'm afraid I might be too late to do something about it. Judging by the state of the garden... Someone else was here." he finished, after a moment of silence, his tone of voice denoting the anger he felt by being betrayed, the disappointment in himself for not have realized it sooner and failed to protect Faeril.

No matter how much Jandar exchanged words with SaDiablo, he couldn’t convince the man to his thinking. Of course, the same went to SaDiablo; the Warlord disagreed with the Prince even if he (partially) understood him. The man had been King of Dhemlan for a thousand years. To be blackmailed with his people’s wellbeing and lives…it was perhaps the one and only thing that could make him impotent. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be willing to recognize that Dorothea operated on the scale of a whole Realm – or perhaps the notion was still so unnatural to SaDiablo that he couldn’t quite grasp her influence.

But no, that did not quite seem right. Jandar was sure he understood, but was likely willing submit to the woman purely for the sake of his former Province. It was exactly how a Ruler should act; concerning themselves only with their ruled nation, dismissing those ruled by others as less valuable. Yet, Dorothea had changed the rules – at the same time, she might be one of the rare ones with the ability to see the larger picture. Jandar begrudgingly respected that point, even if the fact that the wile woman used her ability for evil made him loath her all the more.

“As you will, Prince,” he conceded, with a sigh. “I still believe that the crumbling of a nation and culture is you spoke of is already a long ongoing process, but it seems we will have to agree to disagree as to which crime it is more despicable to let happen; the corruption of Terreile or the destruction of Dhemlan,” he concluded, though with a clear point as to which he considered the worse choice.

After SaDiablo departed for his rest, there was some light chatter about the others, but Jandar had something else on the mind. Seeing as the black jeweled man had no intention to be brought along, how could they cross into Kaeleer – and should they? He considered consulting on this matter with the others, but perhaps an outsider’s perspective was required, which was why he was pondering on involving the very priestess who’d made her ‘request’ to bring SaDiablo with them in the first place.

The Warlord shifted on his feet, and was about to open his mouth when Mikhail made his appearance and proclaimed an unthinkable thing. “W-what?” Jandar sputtered, coughing. He was caught entirely unaware, especially because he’d not even been thinking of Faeril or Bellinar or anything like that. Mikhail’s revelation was a shock. “You…you didn’t kill him, did you,” it was more so a statement rather than a question. “Was it because of who else was there?” he wondered. “Or…?” he trailed off, glancing at the remaining Eyrien brothers. This was something that should be left up to pair of them, while the rest could support them.

“Mikahil, can the rest of you do this without me? I’d like to try and secure a path to Kaeleer, even without SaDiablo’s agreement. I shall head to the priestess and negotiate. But do tell me the location, so I can rejoin you as soon as I can,” he said. “Oh, the boy and the dog should perhaps head with me, and our Lady might be safer with me than accompanying you on your raid,” he suggested.

However, on most of these points, Jandar was willing to reconsider; he did believe that they needed an escape route, however. With all the trouble they’ve been causing and the sort of attention they already had on them, what they most needed was an easy way for them all to disappear and not be found.