The moment the distortion fell, The Cult of Insight fell into disarray. In their confusion, The Army of Touch, broke through the Cult lines and captured the central portion of Shimmertown. Victory for the army is all but assured. Just a few pockets of resistance remaining.

The Pactmakers were given food, medical attention and a bed to stay. However, they were watched heavily by the Empire of Touch's soldiers. For the time, the Pactmakers were not allowed to leave the city. Their close involvement with the town's events and victory made the Empire see them as a potential asset. That aligned with the new found knowledge about the truth behind Shadow Metal made them a danger.

For the time being, Viktor Frost made sure to treat them with the highest respect. There would be a time that he might need them, he knew. the question simply was a matter of when.

Malkev O’Kal sat alone in a makeshift cell. A single room at an inn that the army had taken charge of. Despite the bars, which had been bound to the ceiling and floor by magic, the cell itself wasn’t too terrible. It had a washroom with a bucket of water. A waste bin to relieve himself with. A desk and chair to sit in. A decently comfortable bed, and even a window (although it had been sealed off, of course). Though even with his accommodations, Malkev sat miserably atop his bed. Face burrowed in his hands.

How had it come to this? His brother, dead. His home captured by invaders. His nephew? They would rip him from his hands and hold him as a hostage. This wasn’t a thing that he could agree to, was it? To be a puppet to the Nation of Touch. Could he follow through with such a thing?

The guard at the door to his ‘cell’ entered carrying a plate in one hand, with some of vegetables and what appeared to be chicken. In his other hand, he held a glass of wine.

“Dinner.” He said, while placing the food into the cell so that Malkev could take it.

Malkev lowered his hands and stared at the soldier coldly. A few seconds went by until finally the soldier shrugged and walked away, leaving the food and drink on the floor. Malkev then turned his stare to the food, until finally relenting with a sigh.

Getting off the bed, he picked up the plate of food, but left the wine behind. Taking the food to his desk, he sat and gave the food one last stare before picking up his utensils and eating.

The chicken was season perhaps a bit too much. To the point that it was a touch bitter. However, considering Malkev hadn’t had an actual meal all day, it was a meal much needed. Feeling thirsty and a touch warm, Malkev reached for his drink only to remember that he had left the wine on the floor.

“Leaving the wine to waste, love?” Came a melodic voice behind Malkev.

Startled, Malkev jumped to his feet and spun on his heels. Behind him stood Svephraey, casually leaning against the wall just outside the bars to his cell.

“You?!” Malkev whispered in shock. He quickly glanced to the door of his room only to find it shut. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his head. “How did you get in here?”

Svephraey shrugged, bending down to pick up Malkev’s abandoned glass of wine. Using her freehand, she lowered her elongated turtleneck below her nose. She gave the wine a sniff, and then turned her gaze upwards towards Malkev.

Malkev looked to the wine. His lips feeling parched. He wondered to himself when was the last time he had a drink of anything. Ignoring the wine, he looked back to Svephraey.

“Why are you here, Svephraey? The town will be rid of the cult shortly, just as Kharu-Natjer and the rest of us wanted. What else does he need of me?”

Her eyes seemed to smile tauntingly. Slowly she lowered her turtleneck further. Revealing her full face to him for the first time. It was a face that was surprisingly beautiful.

Svephraey smiled. Then as if to mock him, she took a sip of his wine.

”Aaahhh.” She said teasingly. ”Refreshing.”

“Svephraey.” He said growing frustrated. “You’re the last person I want to see right now. So would you kindly do me a favor? Relay the Kharu-Natjer’s message and leave.”

”But I’m not here on his behalf.” Svephraey said. The barest hint of a smile crossing her lips. ”I’m here for myself.”

”Why? To taunt me?”

”Of course.” She said smoothly, taking another sip of wine. ”There’s pleasure to be found in watching a pup whine and beg from its cage.”

Malkev rolled his eyes. He tugged at his collar uncomfortably. Senses, it was warm. Why did they have to seal his window?

“You and your dog idioms.” He muttered. “I will not ‘whine’ and ‘beg’ for your enjoyment.”

”Oh love, but you already have. Afterall, was it not your whining and begging that got you put here in the first place?”

Malkev gave Svephraey a cold look. “I’ll never understand why the Kharu-Natjer tolerates your presence. It is most… unwelcome.”

Svephraey gazed down into the depths of her wine. ”Have you ever wondered what it means?” She asked, ignoring his comment.

Malkev gave her a frown, not understanding the question. He wiped away a bead of sweat rolling down his face.

”His title.” She said. ”The Kharu-Natjer.”

“Kharu means voice. Natjer means God. So I imagine it means something like ‘the voice of God’.”

Svephraey raised her brow as if surprised. ”My, my. The pup is smarter than it looks.”

Malkev eyed her in annoyance. “One of my men told me the other day. While doing work with Ferris and Octavio, they had a conversation with one of The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves about what the title meant.”

”My mistake. The pup’s smarts are lacking after all.”

“Would you stop!” Malkev shouted in frustration. Being parched, however, his shout came out sounding more like a croak. Senses! He should have taken the damned wine!

”You have it backwards, actually.” She said, ignoring his outburst. Causally she took another sip of wine. ”His title. It means ‘God’s Voice’.”

“God’s Voice?”

Svephraey took another sip. ”The structure of their sentences is somewhat backwards. So the word ‘Natjer’ is the descriptor, while the word ‘Kharu’ is the subject.”

Malkev sighed. It was too hot and stuffy in this room for this conversation right now. He undid the top button of his shirt.

“Why are you telling me this?” His voice came out in a wheeze. His last few words ending with a cough.

”He’s an odd one, The Kharu-Natjer. The man has powers. Powers that don’t seem to fit the mold of any of the five senses. Deterrents supposedly don’t work on his magic. I wonder… Why do you think that is?”

Malkev collapsed into a fit of coughing. Thirsty! He was so thirsty! Why was it so stuffy in this damn room! Senses how was one supposed to breathe in here?!

Not bothering to look at Malkev, Svephraey used her free hand to raise her elongated turtleneck back above her nose.

”You’re poisoned, love. Shouldn’t have eaten the chicken.”

Poisoned?! Malkev released another nasty cough. This time, he coughed up blood.

“Help…” Malkev whined weakly. “Somebody… help…”

”Aaaaah.” Svephraey’s eyes seemed to twinkle with satisfaction. ”Now there’s the whining and begging I hoped for.”

Malkev grabbed at the bars of his cell. Another fit of coughing. His mouth was so dry…

”Here. Have a drink.” Svephraey poured the rest of the wine on to Malkev’s head.

“Guards… Help…” He wheezed out.

Svephraey chuckled and kicked Malkev in the head. The large man fell on his side.

”You’re wasting your breath, love. I am the guards.”

“You?... The guards…?”

”The guards, the cook… I am whoever I need to be… or rather, my Splinters are. Pieces of me gifted to a corpse. Puppets to my every whim. You asked why the Kharu-Natjer tolerates me. Well… this is why.”

“What did I do… for him to… want me dead…?” Malkev’s voice was now barely above whisper.

”Oh love, don’t flatter yourself. I told you, didn’t I?” Svephraey’s eyes seemed to smile. ”I’m here for myself.”

---

A few minutes later, Svephraey knelt beside the lifeless body of Malkev. Hand on his back, she willed a piece of her into him.

She thought back to that day when she sent all her Splinters to their deaths at the clock tower. A desperate attempt to rescue the pactmakers from the cult. The day ‘God’s Voice’ placed his ‘touch’ upon her and somehow enhanced her abilities. That day, she sensed a power beyond…

‘The power behind the magic. The power of gods’ That was what the Sightless had said to the pactmaker named Jen, before their conversation had degraded into a fight.

Svephraey had been asked to have her Splinters keep an eye on the Pactmakers during the battle, and to assist if ever necessary. Well, Svephraey had done as she had been asked. Even going as far as to have a Splinter blow up a building to make sure Jen survived his battle.

What the Kharu-Natjer hadn’t asked her to do was come here herself. She would pay for that, she knew. Despite all her talk of pups and dogs, in truth she herself was a collared dog. Having escaped one prison only to find herself bound in another.

Svephraey removed her hand from Malkev’s corpse and let her magic do its work. Repairing Malkev’s body and undoing any internal damage caused by the poison.

The power of gods. Power that the Lord of Senses supposedly wanted. A power capable of exchanging hands much like her own magic. Svephraey wondered… Could she usurp such a power? Snatch it out from the hands of God himself?

Malkev’s corpse began to stir. A new Splinter born. He opened his eyes and looked at Svephraey, confused.

”Hello, love. Welcome to the world of the living.”

The new ‘Malkev’ frowned, realizing his place in the world. He was her, but not her. Her puppet to do with as she wished. His name was now Malkev. The same name as the one who used to own this body. He would take the man’s place. Serve loyally to the Empire of Touch, but serve her first and foremost.

”Tell me. How do you suppose one kills a god?”

The new Malkev shrugged, unsure of the answer.

Svephraey gave the new Malkev a look of amusement. She patted him on the head belittlingly, before rising to her feet and making for the door.

She needed to return to the Kharu-Natjer. She needed to return before he decided that she had been gone for far too long.

“How?” The new Malkev asked. “How does one kill a god?”

Svephraey, paused. She was surprised by the Splinter’s curiosity.

”I don’t know, love.” She said. ”Though perhaps one could start by carving out its voice.”

General Viktor sat quietly in his study reviewing the many reports given to him by his men. Things had been running smoothly since Malkev had come to his senses and agreed to the terms laid out to him.

Since then, Malkev had joined their cause, speaking out to the people and bringing them to the army’s side. By and large, they had won over control for most of the town with save but a few Cult friendly holdouts on the north-eastern side of the city. The remaining resistance was weak and he expected it to fall by sunrise.

What was more concerning was the reports the girl, Karina, had brought to him. A new cache of Shadow Metal had been discovered. A fresh cache. The first of its kind in perhaps a millennia or more!

It was a good thing that this new cache fell into the army's hands. In the wrong hands, the shadow metal could have hurt Viktor’s efforts in the war considering many of his tactics involved large scale illusions. Though what worried him was not that they had found new shadow metal, but the realization that new shadow metal could theoretically be made at will any time the cult wished it… That is assuming the girl’s reports were to be believed…

Viktor breathed out a deep sigh. Things were getting complicated. For one, the Cult had sided with the enemy. For two, his scouts brought rumor of two other towns that had been affected by Distortions like this one. That meant two other towns, in enemy territory, that potentially had new caches of shadow metal as well.

The winds of war were changing. He could sense it ever so slightly. He had a sense of where it was going, but was still not entirely sure how to proceed.

Rubbing his forehead, Viktor reach for a nearby glass of water when something caught his ear. A gentle blow of the wind. Funny, Viktor hadn’t opened any of his window. He eyed a nearby mirror he placed on his desk. A mirror he used to catch glimpses of those sneaking up behind him. The intruder was quietly climbing up the open window. She had no bow or ranged weapons that he could see.

Viktor continued to act as if he hadn’t noticed anything and casually took a sip from his glass of water. That was when his trap triggered. The intruder, a woman, shrieked. Startled by the chains shooting out from the stray piece of glass Viktor had left out just for scenarios like this one. The glass began to drink in the candlelight coming from his desk. The illusion running on light as fuel.

Viktor stood up, and calmly turned to the woman, his hands clasped behind his back. She struggled desperately against the chains wrapped around her body and wrists.

“A thief,” Viktor began, “an assassin-”

Viktor squinted. This woman, she looked familiar.

“-… or something else?” He muttered off to himself. Viktor frowned. “Who are you?” He asked. "And why did you deem it necessary to climb through my window?”

“My name-” The woman spoke, as she struggled against her bonds. “-is Princess El’lysael. And I climbed through your window, because I wanted to prove to myself that I could. Now if you would, I very much would like to be free of these bonds. Or do you do this to every young girl who finds themselves in your chamber?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at the girl's attitude and her odd reasoning for sneaking in through his window.

He shook his head and slowly he walked to the stray piece of glass that activated his trap. With a light touch of his foot the trap turned off. The chains disappearing with it.

“Princess El’lysael?” Viktor raised his head ever so slightly, a realization coming to his eyes. That was why she looked so familiar “Yes… I see…” But why and how had the princess of the Nation of Sight found herself all the way in Shimmertown?

El'lysael massaged her wrists and looked back at Viktor. "So you're just going to take that comment about tying up young women in stride, huh?" She asked her eyebrow raise this time instead.

“One does not always need to acknowledge the insults of others.” Viktor said calmly.

"Mmm... Insults..." El'lysael muttered, not really caring about what he had had to say.

“You know, you look a lot like him.” Viktor said. “Your father.”

The Princess smirked as she picked herself off the ground.

“Funny.” She said. “People often say I look like my mother.”

Viktor held his tongue. So, the princess didn’t know. The Emperor’s disgusting secret then remained what it was, a secret. The deed the Emperor had done to his very own sister, the poor woman…

“Of course.” Was all Viktor said. “I see that as well.”

Viktor eyed the girl curiously as she collected herself. She wore a traveler’s cloak that looked worst for ware. She appeared as though she had been waring the same outfit for quite some time.

“So tell me Princess. Why and how did the Princess of the Nation of Sight find her way into my new study?”

The Princess met Viktor’s eyes and straightened her posture.

“I wish to help you.” She said. “To help you remove my father from power.”

Viktor sighed ever so softly. Again the winds of war shifted, and a path forward had presented itself.