Moriff had taught him the art of stillness early. It hadn’t come naturally, but when he’d lost his eyes and sight, Silas grew to understand what true stillness was. Impossible, mostly. There was no way of stopping the constant flickerings of energy and heat even when deep asleep with drugs. For most anyways.

Yulia was first, though Silas feared and distrusted her from the events two nights prior, he drew the heat from his temporary ally until she eventually slumped unconscious in the narrow gap they’d discovered in Mozaru’s aircraft. He continued to pull, even as there was barely any heat left at all.

It would be easy to kill her like this.

The thought came unprompted and made Silas freeze. The Vyssorian wouldn’t think twice about it were their situations reversed and she thought there was something to gain; he’d seen as much with Covenant.

But that wasn’t Silas. Thief, liar, beggar, and creetin were all title’s he’d happily claim, but not murderer. He shook his head clear and tucked the board to cover the gap and Yulia inside. Even he was only just barely able to detect the shape of her figure. He moved towards his own hiding spot to repeat the process on himself until the world went dark.

Ahrora was looking for him after the match. Ayla had mentioned as much when they briefly crossed paths. Her returning from the Seoul Sistas’ kite dragon, himself sheepishly removing himself from Mozaru’s flying machine after sabotaging them thoroughly enough to have at least removed them from the leading spot.

He wasn’t avoiding her. Not on purpose at least. The betrayal and hurt that came with her stealing the letter was quick enough to pass. She’d apologized, and more than that, read the precious note to him for the first time. No, the pain twisting and turning in the pit of Silas’ stomach had another source, and it needed to be addressed before he saw Ahrora.

The locks on Madam Copin’s had changed. For most of his life the windows had all been broken- prone to blowing open if not boarded with furniture in the winter months. But Silas found himself clumsily fiddling with his lockpick set, teetering dangerously on the wall beside his mother’s window with one hand and foot invoking the gift enough to keep him poised.

No sooner did the lock click then the shutters fell open, revealing not Aleshta, but a different woman altogether. The surprise wasn’t quite enough to stop Silas from letting himself in anyways, despite the woman's vocal protests.

“Quiet will yah? I’m not here to hurt you just looking-”

“Silas?” Her string of curses stopped as soon as his face was close enough for her to make out in the poorly-lit room.

Silas hummed noncommittally, he could not recognize whoever it was that greeted him; not until she pulled him close to her and he could feel the warms of her hands - the feeling of soft light curls-

“Bianca?” His shock was greater than her own- which earned a laugh.

“You’re not grown at all,” She reprimanded him, but her smile was still audible. “Ain’t they feeding ya wherever ya been?”

He pulled himself free of the embrace finally, taking in the full sight of his once childhood friend- as much as he was able to take in the sight of anything. She’d more than grown enough for them both, and towered over him. There was growth in other areas too- and the reasoning for her having a room of her own was abundantly clear. He hadn’t pulled far enough away to stop from noticing one final unfamiliar feature, and by far the strangest.

Instinctively, his hands reached out to her again, towards the curious flickering of energy in the pit of her stomach. She laughed again.

“Well say something wontcha?”

“You’re pregrant.” Any excitement he’d had was gone before it’d the chance to be given proper voice.

“Really ain’t no hiding a thing from you. Even ol’Copin hasn’t figured it yet.”

He felt like he was going to be sick. The strangeness mixed with familiarity. His mother’s room that was now Bianca’s. Bianca who was working. Who was pregnant. A sharp prod to the chest dragged his attention back.

“Why?” Was the only syllable he could manage. The fourteen year old he’d known had been adamant to get away from the place and make a life different from her mothers. Three years, he reminded himself. He’d been gone too long.

“Now why you asking me a thing like that? Babies are happy things”

“Happy?” He snapped at her despite himself. “Gods Bianca- too think you be so stupid after-”

“And you think I want any of it?” Just as quickly as her own fury has exploded, Bianca reigned it in again. “I don’t want to fight with you Si, please.” Here eyes darted about the sparse room. The same ones that had been there when he’d lived in it. “I have it taken care of. Please sit, and I’ll get us tea.”

“I don’t want tea.” He grumbled, but took a seat at the edge of her bed. “If no one knows yet, I know people we could find a chemical mage or even-”

“Told yah, it’s taken care of.”

“How’s it taken care of if you’re still livin’ here?” He demanded, unable to keep the judgemental edge from his voice. “You forgotten what it was like or somethin?”

He’d gone too far. Whatever restraint she’d had evaporated again. “Who in the hells are you?!” She whirled on him, “Come bargin’ in through the window from wherever you’ve been too and tellin’ me whats what?” Silas wanted to argue, even opened his mouth, but no excuses came. She was right.

“It’s you that's forgotten. I’m the one been living here- Before and since you ran off.” Her voice was shaking, and droplets had started forming in the corner of her eyes. She wiped them away before they had a chance to fall. “But I’ve done good for myself. It ain’t what you think. Know who the father is and everything- a real gentleman, gonna take us away from here.”

Stories of Thalakos, promises of sunsets over a turquoise sea, and the scent of dying flowers. Another wave of nausea hit Silas hard enough to make him swoon even in his seated position. Bianca was by his side in moments, as though the outburst had never happened.

“You can’t-” Silas started, but was interrupted by the door opening. He has no issue identifying the figure standing in its place.

“Knew I heard screamin’ up here. What you doing girl? Letting visitors in free before opening…” Madame Copin’s reprimand died on her tongue as she approached close enough for her poor eyesight to recognize Silas.

“Damned rotted bastard!” She spat at him “got some nerve showin ‘round here again.”

Silas jumped to his feet. “Don’t you-”

His face stung as she slapped him. Hard. Even Bianca gasped from behind the Madame, who’s hand remained open under Silas’ chin. “Even bastards gotta pay. ‘Specially this one- after the way you cost me.”

It was his hand that struck her face this time; an action that stunned all three for a moment before they could react: Madame Copin howling and cowered, clutching a hand to her face. Bianca moved to the old woman’s aid, and Silas stared at them both.

“Where’s my mother?” He finally asked, his voice sounding strangely calm in comparison to his nerves.

“Ungrateful… rotten brat. Oughtta have thrown you out the moment you was born- Nothing but trouble.”

“Where’s Aleshta?” He repeated, only a slight crack to his voice as he used his mothers name.

“How would I know? What good’s an old used up whore to me?”

At first, the rage was enough Silas thought he was going to vomit, but when he took a step forward, a wave of kinetic energy blast forth- knocking both women in front to the ground. He didn’t stop though. He reached forward and grabbed Copin by the neck of her tattered dress, and tossed her against the wall with yet more magic. She had slapped him like a child- like the small scared little boy she’d locked in a closet. Silas was furious as he’d never felt before, but there was more there too. Fear, and sadness. Copin’s face had begun turning purple as she raged at him, and Bianca was screaming at his shoulder as he kept her madam pinned against the wall.

He faced his once friend, and stopped. Madame Copin slumped to the floor, shill whaling and shouting. But it was all just noise to Silas then. He watched the pair in silence for a few short moments, then moved to the small table that served as the second piece of furniture in the room. There he left the blanket that had been intended for his mother, and a purse heavy with coins. “Leave Bianca. Don’t care who promised you what, but you can’t trust them and the city ain’t safe. Get out.”

There was more. More to say, more to give, more to learn, but he could feel both heartbeats on the other side of the walls, ears pressed to hear what was happening. He wondered if they would fear him now. It would make a sort of sense, he supposed, but couldn’t quite make himself understand why before leaping from the same window he’d entered.

Silas’ frustrations at the events at Copin’s didn’t even have time to settle before another nerve was struck. Between Ahrora and other distractions his team had been steadily losing their high placement throughout the week. The greed trial proved their worst undoing. He paced the Zeno’s common room while the others discussed plans of voting. Their final attempt to scrounge votes and land in the top five.

“We’re not even going to try anything else?” He asked no one in particular.

Silas was doubly perturbed. He’d done well in the greed event- uncharacteristically generous even. Not stolen a single thing for himself. But his plan to leave early and claim the team’s loot backfired on them all, as the day ended with too few points, and Manfred having claim to the spoils.

Ayla shrugged at him and began to again explain the offer she’d received from Afraval’s group. Silas just scowled, and eventually left, only Casii following after some prompting to assist in finding more trades where they could.

They stopped first at the houses of team’s they matched with. Ahrora’s first, though the visit was short- Ahrora claiming she’d already convinced her team to give them their votes, and Silas was only complicating things by showing up at all.

Next they went to the Yasoi team from Tarlon. The approached casually, claiming to only want a visit before the closing ceremonies, but it didn’t take long for Silas to eventually turn the conversation to Casii’s family; the struggles of the Constantian Yasoi, and he could practically see the sympathy and guilt radiating from Tyrell as he left Vyshta’s Favoured’s quarters alone.

The eeiako team was easy to convince with a few misleading promises and the gift of one of his wine bottles found during his roses and neskals escapades.

It worked well. Too well in the end. When Zemana’s team were announced the Trial’s winners a few short hours later, Silas remained frozen in his seat, white-faced and nervous. He’d gone too far again, he knew. He’d hoped only to get them back into the top five, winning only served to draw attention to his deception and trickery, making him a mark for any that felt slighted. If they could discover it was him. Manfred and Ayla were the more likely deal-makers of the group, and three of the four deceived groups would be gone the next day, he told himself. He joined the others and politely nodded and smiled throughout the ceremony, but quickly retreated away with Ahrora the moment the attention drifted from the winning team.

There was a notable increase in business at Zenobuck’s, it had been so the entire week of trials, but the few hours before the final portals were to open and take the foreigners home had drawn a final, exceptional crowd. Silas and Ahrora didn’t much mind the wait, it was the final moments of time together they valued more than the coffee. Neither of course would stoop to say as much of course.

“Of all the things to bring home, I can’t believe you’re choosing books.”

Ahrora made no note of Silas’ confused grimace, too busy using her new glass eye to scan the pockets of the other surrounding customers. “I’m going to need to brush up on my Avincian if you’re going to learn to read.”

He wished he had a drink already so he could spit it out at her. “Why would I ever? I can’t!”

“You can.” She kept her head down but Silas didn’t need her face to know her muscles were tightening into a self-satisfied smile. “You’ve just been lazy and gotten by on luck and rotten tricks.” From her pouch she produced a familiar vial. The metallic ink gifted to him his first week, and barely touched since.

“Thought you were done poking through my things.”

“Never said anything of the sort.”

Only after they’d ordered and Silas paid did he manage to drag the conversation away from school and the trials. The topic fell to what had occupied them their few brief days apart- before her half-hearted apology. Speaking of Bianca and what had happened in the whorehouse seemed too personal, too soon, and too much a mood-killer. Instead Silas told her of the visit with others to Molli’s emporium; Tiff, the half-lady, and Molli himself fleecing him ten bennies.

“Isn’t the whole thing a bit weird?” She asked part-way through his description of being unfairly robbed by Evander.

“What?”

“An immensely wealthy man setting up shop in Mudville of all places?”

It wasn’t something Silas had considered before; Molli’s was as much an annual fixture in Mudville as the seasons. He could only shrug and sip his drink. “Oughtta loot the place and find out.”

Her one true eye rolled back. “You’re going to get yourself killed over hurt pride and a handful of coins.”

Silas opened his mouth to protest, but chiming bells interrupted. Too early to mark the turning hour- they were a warning for the opening portals.

Ahrora stood, hands on her hips. “Please say you have a better goodbye for me than talking about a fat old man.”

An unexpected soreness had formed in Silas’ chest with the bells. Her words had him smiling despite it, and placing her cup behind them alongside his own, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull close for a proper send off.

He would miss her: The name of the hollow feeling dawned on him while they waved goodbye- both ignoring the icy glare of Bohrom. But before he could dwell on the emotion long- an unfamiliar hand gripped his shoulder.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Silas barely had a chance to see the portals wink out of existence before the much larger figured behind him forcefully spun him around. It wasn’t possible for his muted senses to discern the face, but the size and accent of the figure lead him to believe it was Nazih; the Darhanic noble he’d tricked into voting his team to first in the Trials. Silas did his best not to cry out.

“Sorry about that, you see-” Then someone screamed.

It was chaos, from nowhere pandemonium as people screamed about aberrations. Silas could sense some himself, on the outer fringes of his senses. The peculiar tears in energy only made him think of the uncomfortable experience with the spectacles. He tried to use the confusion to pull away from the older boy- but Nazih held fast.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Silas thought quickly. “Outside the city. There’s a place there.” While Nazih’s grip remained tight on his forearm, he at least allowed Silas to begin walking south. The final conversation of Ahrora echoed in his mind. “-A place that needs investigating. This distraction will help.”

While unconvinced, the Darhanic was at least curious enough to humor the boy be listening to the tall tale he spun- of horrors and incredible wealth both hidden behind the facade of a circus. Silas had managed to pull fellow rat bastard Fiske on their journey past the crowds of the seagate- where a peculiar Yasoi none seemed to recognize joined them.

"We've come to a truly evil place." Silas said with the utmost sincerity as a juggler, followed by an accordion player passed the mismatched group. Silas made sure to point most of his attention to the new Yasoi in the group. "They have a man trapped up in there, under a spell pretending to a baby- " He jutted his thumb towards the side show tent. "And an entire menagerie of animals that need freeing over there." He pointed with his other hand towards the petshop. "Who do you think needs help most?" He asked Esmi, the image of integrity. The Yasoi ignored him, had she heard him at all, and began to move directly towards the petshop.

"When you told me of this place earlier, I really didn't believe you, twigboy." Nazih said, raising his eyebrows in disbelief while looking around. "This is definitely a sinister place...is it even worth the trouble?"

Silas shrugged and turned to face the tall Darhanic boy. "You don't have to come in if you're scared." He replied curtly. "Be needing someone to stand guard anyways and well..." He raised a hand to illustrate the differences between the two shorter boys and Nazih. "There's money spilling out of this place if we look right." Where his final words before the group split. Silas’ first move was to investigate the sideshow tent before circling it in search of the performers living quartets.

He picked up on a few distinctive signatures: one was clearly that of Tiff, another was the two-headed woman, and a third a lady with a large snake she seems to be dancing with. Moli is nowhere to be found, however. Then, however, he heard a distinctive voice: "She's-a not gonna be goin' in there, bucko!" There were sounds of struggle. "She's be tellin' yah truthful!"

She appeared to be in some sort of trouble. A large man had a small woman by the arm and was not letting her go.

Silas whirled, surprised to see the Kerremand girl so far from home. He hesitated for a brief moment. One helping hand was already more than he was accustomed to giving, and he’d parted more than even with Margot. His better judgment lost in the end and Silas found himself approaching the scene.

"Captain Margot!" He exclaimed with great enthusiasm and a bow low enough his head nearly scraped the ground. "What great honour brings you to our city?" He exclaimed with a slight jab to Fiske's ribs.

The guard who appeared to have apprehended Margot paused. He blinked and glanced at the two new arrivals. "Captain?" he asks. "This lil' runt?" He was skeptical, but released her. The Kerreman quickly pulled her arm back.

"Yes, Captain!" she snaps. "A Captain whose-be doin' business herein." She adjusted her hat and puffed herself up, a salve to her wounded pride. The guard was appropriately chagrined for his actions against a personage of such clear importance. "M' apologies, ma'am.

"She's lookin' at more 'n just apologizings 'f she were a rotten one," Margot grumbled, "but she in't. You're being a lucklike man, bucko. Karl, Fritz!" She opens her arms wide. "Haha! Been timings for me tah see 'em! Whatcha two scoundrels are uppin to?"

"Sight seeing." Silas replied, smile still wide, "with Fiske here." Silas gestured to his companion and led the entire group slightly further behind the tent. "Maybe finding things to make your business here a bit smoother if you're interested in joining." He paused for a moment and took note of the empty space on her shoulder. "Where's your first mate?"

Margot grinned. "Yeh nearmuch messing her up, Silas-boy." She twirled some hair as she walked. "She were built a load of grievance up and making a distraction. Schliem's readylike hard at work." She winked. "Money flowing through this place like a river." She paused and considered. "She's always upping for make more, though. What's he got in mind?"

"This whole place is a sham, except for the money." He agreed "All to good gotta be hidden away. And connections. I'd bet if we find some of old Moli's secrets you won't even be needing cash to move things around here." He looks to Fiske, "I won't take more than 10 bennies of whatever coin we nab. Either of you can have the rest."

"He gots a vendetta, huh?" Margot teased. "Ol' Sal catched him real goodlike, hmm?"

"Not so bad as Margot almost got before our help." He replied to the girl "you already know something that might help?"

"I'll been needing some eyes" He smiled to Fiske and pointed to his own temples. "Hope you can do some reading for me in there."

"Ol' Sal's here, but he'll being mutes his-a signature. Got Schliem looking for the safe. Don't nobody expect a sumpfkrake be a thief." They'd made their way around back now. All the performers were in their designated areas, with the exception of the mermaid, who seemed to be in her chambers.

"And here I thought we set you up to start an honest life," Silas shook his head, but the smile revealed his true feelings. "This place looks good enough to start on our own. We'll reconvene in five. The legless lady and dancer with a snake seemed to know more than most. Best if you want to check their room. I'll start here." He pointed toward the direction of the occupied tent where the meerami rested. Then Silas slipped on his skull mask prize from the Trials, and entered Tiff's tent.

"I was wondering when youse guys would quit yer snoopin' and take the plunge," said Tiff as Silas entered. "Good to uh... see ya, Eyes. How's it goin, huh?"

"Are we so obvious?" He asked sheepishly as he took a seat in the small room. "Well enough, any luck with your sister?"

"Ashi's really lyin' low, wherever she's at," Tiff sighs. "I'll dig her up sooner or later." She looked Silas up and down. He wasn't so bad. Still, she knew him. "Butcha didn't just come here for a social call, didya?"

"Not entirely." Silas shifted in his seat, putting on a show of nervousness and discomfort. "Sort of, I mean well, you see..." He trailed off and lowered his head, all while closely gaging the meerami's energies and reaction "It's about her... and your whole business with Moli. The big plan you and the crew were working on." He trailed off again, attempting to lead her into finishing.

Tiff shot him a warning look. "My, what good hearing you must have," she observed, eyes darting warily about. And motioneing for Silas to follow her out of the tent.

"Lose one sense, gain another and all that." Silas reached out to see if he could sense what it was that had Tiff so on edge as he followed her away from the tents. But there was nothing. He frowned, feeling truly blind. The rational part of him knew messing with someone capable of such powerful magics was likely a mistake. But he pushed on. "You're sure you know the whole plan?"

They are a good ways away by the time that Tiff leans in and rests her chin on his shoulder. "Moli is crazy powerful," she whispers in his ear. "He's always watching and you don't see him, you don't sense him." She shook her head. "We backed off of our plan."

Silas frowned and folded his arms. "So people keep saying, but never why or how." His foot began tapping impatiently on the ground as his exasperation made itself known. "Means finding that out might take some of that power away, you know?" He then stopped again, and spun to face her properly. "Does that mean you're trapped here now?"

She nodded slowly. "I make him the big bucks," she admitted. "Who doesn't wanna see a real live mermaid?"

It irked him more than it should have. Who in Ersand'Enise wasn't being shaken down and taken advantage of by someone bigger and stronger? He himself had been planning to play the girl the fool and bleed her for information. And yet, her tone reminded him of Bianca, trapped and alone in Mudville because of no greater sin than being born there. The double shot of guilt was finally enough for Silas to remove the mask entirely. "Then you have to help us." He said to her urgently. "If we find Moli's secrets, we can get you out."

Tiff chewed on her bottom lip for a moment: an all-too humanlike gesture. She glanced nervously over her shoulder. She took a deep breath in and then released it. "Ain't no way you can get the school involved, huh?"

Silas' nose wrinkled in distaste at the idea. "Not the school." He confirmed with a shake of the head. "No way Moli does so much business here so often without their go ahead and knowing. But we're not alone either." And Silas reached out the the limit of his abilities and gave a small pinch to the elbows of Fiske, Nazih, and Margot, signaling them all to follow to his position

Tiff still looked nervous, insofar as Silas could read expressions and especially the expressions of uhm... mermaids. Her biochemicals, though, different from those of humans but no profoundly so, registered anxiety. Her heart was beating quickly. Her fingers were fidgeting. "I'm mostly just a face," she admitted to him, "but I know a bit." She shook her head. "He's been shipping stuff from overseas. It comes in these unmarked crates. He's got these new people who move 'em: big galoots I ain't nevah seen before, and I mean big, buster: like little Molis. It comes in and then it just kinda disappears after a bit."

She glanced about, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what looked like a smokestick. "Ya want some while we wait for that help of yours? Helps us look less suspicious just standing out here."

Silas nodded, brow furrowed in thought as Tiff explained the little she knew. "Crates, through the port?" That was a start at least. There would be records of what he was moving, or from where. Maybe they'd be lucky enough to happen on some themselves and lighten the load. He proposed as much to his companion between passes of the smokestick. "Do you know if Moli's human?" He asked eventually, attempting to imagine what a group of Moli-sized men would mean if they crossed paths. "Can the other big ones hide themselves too?"

Tiff considered. "I think you might be barkin' up the wrong tree. I dunno for sure, but he might be using the Mudport. It's hard to say, and ya know what the records are like there." She took a moment to consider his second question. "I think he is?" she replied. "I mean, 'side from bein' like... eight feet tall, he dun' look that much like a knife-ear. Still, the one thing I know is if you see 'em, that's where they are. Ya wanna snoop, ya gotta get someone to draw him out, so you can get in."

Silas took a final long thoughtful pull from the stick before straightening; suddenly alert and motioning for Tiff to stand behind him. The energies of Nazih and Esmi reached them moments later. Silas frowned at them and shifted his weight between his feet. Of course the two least likely to help would be the ones to show. He noted the third, new and small energy moving slightly while huddled against Esmi's chest.

"Found a friend?" He asked, nodding to the dormouse. "This is Tiff," Silas side-stepped to give the arrivals a clear view of the Meerami that had been poorly hidden behind the boy's small frame. "Tiff, these are my uhm... Colleagues.”

Esmi was first, introducing herself as soon as she was within earshot- "Hi Tiff, nice to meet you, and yes, this is Sage, she's so cute and fluffy" Sage pops out to see everyone. Only once closer did Esmi finally notice the figure beside Silas was neither human or Yasoi, "Wait what are you?"

Tiff arched an eyebrow. She leaned in closer to Silas. "This one a lil' screwy?" she whispered. Her eyes flicked up and down Nazih a couple of times. "Yeah, looks like a little.... morsel," she answered Esmi, noticing the dormouse.

Nazih eyes went a little wide, he thought having to accept snake people as reality was hard enough. Now a giant fish lady? He dragged his hand down his face, "Silas, what are we doing here?"

A pained, forced grin tightened on Silas's face as the Yasoi spoke.

"She's a friend!" He answered both their questions quickly. They didn't have the time to waste all day with long introductions, whatever distraction the chaos in the city has provided them wasn't going to last long. "A friend that needs our help" He continued, still rocking on his heels as he spoke. "Trapped here; like the animals and the others I told you about." His attention between the two of them shifted as he reached out with his senses behind them, attempting to determine if they were followed. "You in or what?" He asked.

"I want to help, rescue the animals, and take a Grape Dragon that looked bad, and help your friend" Esmi piped up first.

Tiff blinked. On the one hand, Aurelia, the pet vendor, had been one of her few friends around here and releasing a bunch of exotic wild animals around Ersand'Enise would not end well for anyone, least of all the animals. On the other, it might make a nice distraction. "Ya know what? I support you!" Tiff crowed. She turned to Nazih. "What? Y'ain't nevah seen a meerami before?" She paused and considered. "Actually, you're from the desert, aintcha? Nevermind!"

"Great. Now we just need a plan." Silas' smiled relaxed as he flexed his hands. "We did have two more, but they got caught up somewhere I guess." He shrugged towards Tiff. "We'll take the back of the place, you two focus on the animals. Find Fiske first so he can try and cover you; keep our identities hidden and all that."

"We shouldn't stick around here long," he faced Tiff and offered her a hand to lead back towards the tents. "Hope you can read, otherwise we'll have to find the other one we're missing."

"Eh, I know enough to get along," Tiff assured him. "Just don't throw anything literary at me, huh?" She grabbed his hand. "Now, here's my hand." She took in and released a deep breath. "Let's do this!"

Silas followed wordlessly at first, taking time to adjust to the strange feeling of the Meerami's skin, if that's what it could be called, on his own: Cold, even to his frigid hands. "How did you end up crossing paths with the toad man in the first place?" He asked casually, making conversation but focusing on searching the areas they passed for signs of Schliem's energy.

Tiff flashed an unamused duckface. "It involved a net, bucko, swimmin' for my life, and a deal." She shrugged. "Big Sal was supposed to help me find Ashi. Now it's one half-baked excuse after the other. He ain't even really tryin' at this point. Good for nuttin' dago," she spat. "But maybe you're onto somethin'. He ain't human. Ain't no way someone can be that strong and not be part 'o the big academy."

Silas was listening, of course, but he was scanning his surroundings for energies too. They'd side slipped the three galoots, but there was plenty more activity and he was looking for something that would stand out. Then, he sensed it: an octopus... of a sort. It wasn't more than thirty yards distant, in a gated area behind the main tent. Along the way were some stables, a couple of loose supply dumps cordoned off, a few tool and storage sheds, and some caged performing animals. For a moment, he thought that he sensed a human's energy, but it was on his far periphery and far too fleeting.

Silas tugged gently on Tiff's hand, attempting to pull her slightly off-course enough to head towards the gate and small octopus' energy. "Never trust a fat man," He muttered, "greed wide as his waist I'd bet."

"My friend's companion is this way," He nodded to the fence blocking their path "We climb? Or is there a better way around?"

"If you can pick a lock," the meerami responded.

Silas had a lockpick on hand, and made quick work of the job. Tiff flicks some featherlike hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms, watching with a sort of admiration. Then, they're in. The gate swings open with a loud "crrreeeeak."

Silas lets out a breath he'd been holding when the noise of the gates finally ended. A finger to his lips signaled silence, as he slunk into the shadows, trying to keep along the perimeter and out of sight as they made their way towards Schleim.

They slip inside and Silas feels it again: a weird flicker of energy. Tiff feels it too. "We ain't alone," she whispers, using a sonic technique so that her quiet words reach his ears only. "Watch yah back."

The sumpfkrake draws closer, but it doesn't seem to be moving. In fact, it is difficult to even detect the animal.

Silas didn't nod, or make any notable movement in response, but pushed a wave of kinetic energy into the ground, making the terrain behind him slick and impossible to move one easily for those with legs. A shadow of worry crossed his face as the animal's energy began to fade- he reached out to it, attempting to gently warm Schleim with arcane magic to warn of his approach and detect if the creature was still alive.

The sumpfkrake remains utterly still and unresponsive as they drew nearer, Tiff noted to Silas that she couldn't see the little cephalopod. Then, all at once, they felt him come alive. A powerful jet of ink arcs in the air as he leaps away. The target was a pair of enormous men who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. One of them turned and regarded the two interlopers with surprise. "What are you doing here, mermaid, and who the hell is this?

Just as the little monster releases its torrent, Silas managed to duck left, avoiding the worst of the spray. Ignoring the guard’s questions, he turned from them, to make a clapping motion in Tiff's direction. Finally he unleashed a flash of light on the ground to blind the pair.

The attack works a charm. The pair of giants, blinded, stagged and lashed out uselessly. "Treacherous little bitch!" One roared. The other flailed about blindly until his hands seized upon a crate. He spiked it into the ground and sharp splinters of wood flew everywhere. After a moment, they formed into a tornado of a thousand skewers. It heads straight for Silas and Tiff.

"We gotta go!" Silas yelped at the sound of splintering wood and grabbed onto Tiff's arm again, pulling her with him as he fell to his knees, sliding down a slipstream of kinetic magic as they followed the trail of ink left behind by Margot's little hellspawn.

"There's just one problem," Tiff growled. "I don't run." Turning on the spot, still sliding, she gathered all of the ambient energy that she could and…

Two of the pieces of wood struck sparks off of each other, like they were made of something else entirely. More started. Then, the epicenter of the tornado began to shift: emitting light and heat. The bottom began to glow faintly, just before the entire thing disappeared into a growing hole in the ground. One of the galoots stumbled, as if some invisible force was pulling him towards the hole. The other clung to something. Silas and Tiff's momentum slowed and the latter shouted over the ambient roar to the former. "Give it some juice!"

Silas tried to ignore the swirling maelstrom behind him. Did his best not to think over-long as to where that vortex was leading to. At Tiff's word, he drew from the heat from the fire, and gave one final push with the last of his stored energy, launching the pair forwards and pushing their pursuers further still into the tornado.

Just like that, the giant men disappeared. For a moment, there was the horrible sight of them twisting, warping, and then disappearing. "Stop!" Tiff called, stalling her momentum, and the maelstrom winked out. Where it had been mere moments ago was the awesome residual heat of a still-cooling item. It was a tiny black marble, reflective and unfathomably dense.

As the last of the energy left Silas' manas he could feel his blood run cold. Pale hands trembled as he clawed at the ground in an attempt to slow them, his exhausted mana's slow to draw on the kinetic energy. "What happened?" He asked, spinning to face Tiff and the empty space where the two thugs should have been. "Gods, what did you- we- do?" He scrambled back towards the marble, original goal forgotten.

Tiff smiled wickedly, needle-sharp fangs gleaming in the night. "Absolutely nothing," she replied, a twinkle in her eye. It grew until they glowed with delight. "Well, we get out of here, of course." There was a wink.

"Get out?" He called, straining and slipping as his attempt to stabilize the ground failed and he again found himself completely drained and himself stumbling towards the shining object. There were so many people here, and they were so close to Mudville- But Tiff was already leaving, and he had nothing left to even help keep himself upright. He closed his mind to thoughts of the guards, of the consequences of whatever that thing they were leaving behind was, and leapt out to follow the Meerami.

"It'll be fine," Tiff assured him, "Last one only sunk a few hundred feet. It'll even provide a uh... freshwater source here! Now come on, let's go!"

Before long, they sensed others headed their way. Two were the usual galoots, and while they were definitely not weak, the third is something special. It appears to be... a two-headed woman!?

Too exhausted to continue another chase, and not wanting to draw further attention with another incident, Silas yanked Tiff with him down to the ground to roll under the bottom of a tent canvas.

This time, Tiff didn’t resist. She rolled with Silas and the bustle of the nearby market was enough to render their particular signatures hazy to all but the most precise of sensors. "Yah know," she whispered after a moment, eyes darting about, "I could make a run for it right now: dive into that bay and be gone." They shifted longingly out towards the water.

Silas lifted himself back to his feet, and brushed himself off as he took in their surroundings.

"Wouldn't blame you. But I don't think you will." He stalled for a moment to ensure the guards passed their position. "You want to know if Moli has any info on your sister - or leverage to figure it out." Together they walked towards the back exit of the tent, and Silas lifted it for her to pass through ahead of him. "Leave now and you're just as empty handed as before Moli found you- and you know he'll come looking."

She shot him a pained look. "You're not wrong." She shook her head. "I dunno. My whole life, I lived only for myself. Ashi was just... there. I took her for granted." Hesitantly, Tiff twisted on the spot. She was cumbersome on land and uncomfortable. "If it's dirt we want, we check by the Mudport, on Marrone Creek. Strange stuff's been happenin' there, but uh... I'm gonna warn yah now: I think it's way above our pay grade."

Silas did his best to keep a neutral expression, which only resulted in a pinched and pained look. "I've been due for a raise anyways." Even the attempt at humour was stiff. He tried optimism instead; "One last push fish-sticks, then it's free and open seas." Just the idea of the nauseating tides was enough to make Silas's stomach lurched, but he pressed forward to the direction Tiff pointed, making a final effort to reach out and signal to Margot and her partner for reinforcements.

He received a pinch back. Where it was coming from, he could not say exactly, but Margot was somewhere else. Schliem, Silas could still sense in the distance, however. The sumpfkrake seemed to be headed for a large derelict building within Mudville. It was a place that Silas had seen before, many times, but it was a well-known thing among the local urchins that you did not go there: the place was haunted. Meanwhile, they crossed the rickety drawbridge over the creek and began approaching the warehouses lining the Mudport. Silas took note of an unusual number of small boats - all of the same design - waiting around, pulled ashore, or docked nearby. There were more of those unusually large men about and another blood type as well. He'd sensed it before, he was somewhat sure. It was…

“Sanguinaires.” He hissed to Tiff in warning.

"We should find Margot," He whispered, suddenly stuck in his path, yet made no movement to search for the swamp-girl either. Years of stories and instinct told him not to get any closer to the building than they already were. Sanguinares had just been stories then too. Silas inhaled deeply, a failed attempt to loosen the tightness in his chest. "Any good at climbing?" He asked Tiff as he moved towards the cursed place's southern wall.

"Not my forte," the meerami admitted, "but I can go all snakey on it and try. I do much better in the water."

He hesitated again. "Maybe we should split then. Me here, you the docks; keep low, figure out what's going on. Try and save up for another one of those marble tricks. " A weak smile finally breaks his tense expression. "I'll send someone after you if I can, then come with more reinforcements." He took hold of her hand one final time before parting. "Swim out if it gets too hot." And with a squeeze, dropped her hand as quickly as he'd taken it before scaling the wall.

Silas immediately noticed activity in the house. Perhaps this was why it was always taken to be haunted. There was a sonic dampening field, but he’s practiced enough to slip inside. There were screams emanating from the basement. Lines of mostly men stood in the hallways with military precision. Figures lay on tables. In the basement were more guards and that rivaled Moli in size.

Then, he heard another scream. A too familiar one. "No! Please-to-yah, no!" She just bein' a local girl! No harmin', she promise!" Schliem was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, Tiff was not so stealthy: Finding herself chased by two massive guards, she turns to launch another devastating attack. So intense was her manipulation of gravity that they found themselves sucked towards a singularity. They resisted, drawing away from it with massive power of their own, the Sanguinaire Titans caused it to dissipate completely.

They glowered at the Meerami girl. She gulped and backed toward the water: her one chance of escape.

Inside the warehouse, the sanguinaire continued to infect others with a parcticed monotony. Inside the mansion, screams emerged from the basement and then, eventually, giants.

Silas didn't need real eyes to lurch at the discovery. Much worse than a haunting. He stilled on the wall outside, frozen in terror until a cry from Margot jolted him into action. Then the unmistakable rupturing energies of Tiff's magic some ways away. The closer danger was more pressing he decided, and searched for some small passage or opening that he could use to enter.

It didn’t take long to locate Margot’s small engery signature once inside. She was already taken to be in the sanguinaire’s room. There were sounds of struggle. Then, another voice.

"I'm sorry, girl. Please. Don't struggle. I'm just so.... HUNGRY."

"I won't kill you. I won't."

"I'm just hungry. Please. That's all."

More voices: "Hurry up already!"

"Take your fill and let's go!"

Silas was able to slip into the shadows before managing to falsely adhere himself to the ceiling with kinetic magic. He made it to the room to find Margot strapped to a chair, a number of large male figures surrounded her.

“Them shit-suckin' skuggvar-bait dagos!" She kicks and screams. "They the badguys! The fuckin' badguys. She being an innocent local girlish!"

There was an intense beam of heat and it nearly overwhelmed Silas' senses for a moment. One of the newly-created sanguinaires took it in the chest and collapsed backward, clutching at the wound.
At the other end of the long room were tables, crates, and Schliem. The sumpfkrake was barely detectable. It slipped into one of the crates through a handhold gap and extricated a couple tubes of some solution. The sanguinaires, unbothered by their fallen comrade, continue forward towards their meal.

From the moment Schliem revealed himself, Silas dropped from the ceiling, behind the collapsed sanguinare who he ensures will remain on the ground. He mades for Margot before even attempting dealing with the others, using kinetic magic to tear at her bindings to the chair.

He barely got a rip in one before getting thrown clean across the room, glanced off of a shelving unit, but more or less stuck the landing.

Schliem made his way across the room, clinging to the ceiling. Margot ripped the binding off of her second wrist. The sanguinaires scrambled to corner towards Silas while a pair of well-dressed men and a woman slunked into the room, remaining behind the sanguinaires for protection.

Panting from exertion, Silas launched himself upwards on the wall again to be barely out of arm's reach of the giants below. He yelled towards Schliem only a few meters away. "The docks! The Faire! The Meerami or Yasoi. Get help!" Then he fell again, amplifying his weight and force with magic as he crashed down on-top of his attacker.

Schliem ignored him. He'd already been given different orders and a different purpose.

It was a gambit: a big one, Margot always knew, but she'd determined long ago that she'd rather live as a lion than a lamb. The sumpfkrake dropped one of the vials that it stole right into her hands.

Margot uncorked it.
Margot drank it.

Silas again scrambled to find purchase on the floor. The man was too large, too strong, even for kinetic attacks. Quickness wasn't going to win him the day this time. He was able to sense something, some barely noticeable interaction between Margot and her pet. Unwilling to fight further, he emits a pulse of arcane light to cover an escape attempt.

Whatever light produces is drawn from and dissipated by the sanguinares instantly. Silas made for a bolt anyways.

Margo screamed and contorted, her eyes rolling back into her head. She jerked and thrashed, legs still bound to the chair. Then, she stilled for a moment. Her eyes opened. With a kick, she was free and standing, a newly-made sanguinare.

"She's unauthorized!" wailed one of the well-dressed men. "Get her!"
Margot smirked.

But she underestimated them. The first plowed into her and she smashed into the ground. If nothing else, she was buying Silas time to escape. He came back for her!
Nobody ever comes back for the likes of Margot! She could take a bit of a beating for his sake.

Another attempt at creating light flickered into nothingness. Silas cursed, feeling the energy there, under his skin and behind his not-eyes. Warm- hot even, but trapped inside. He whirled one final time to take in what's become of Margot, intending to send a shock-wave of kinetic energy to clear a path for her. Instead white hot, searing light burned through the thick cloth of his blindfold, incinerating it and anything else between him and the converging attackers.

The optic blast scythed across the room devastating result. Three sanguinaires were sliced instantly in half. Another's legs were cleanly removed. Only one defended. "Fuck yessss!" Margot crowed, leaping to another’s head.

She flew across the room, attacking targets of opportunity, and Schliem even managed to re-attach himself to his post on her shoulder.

While one target died a clean death, others were injured and a few even managed to defend.

Then, Salvatore Moli is arrived, along with the blonde woman. He immediately identified Silas and Margo as the heart of the problem.

"The twos man and the lady! Nice clothings one!" Margot shouts. "Them's the key!"

One of the men attempted to run. The other and the woman hide behind their sanguinaires.

It took Silas a moment to regain his senses. Or at least the one he used most, that of his magic. The power he'd unleashed had left an echoing of energy that nearly blinded him to the surrounding energies. Until the impossibly large shape of Moli came into his range. Then it was all in focus. He barely heard Margots words, but heeded them best he could, leaping from the hallway towards the blonde woman.

Avril Frannemas sensed the boy long before he could make contact with her. But did nothing to stop him. Nothing to avoid him. In fact, she pulled him right into her grip. She held him fast by the neck and her eyes narrow.

Then, Margot WAS there. She smasheD a boot right into the blonde woman's face and Avril was sent sprawling backwards. She rose again quickly, furious.

"You insect!" she roared. "How hard have I been trying not to squash you!?" She drew in a colossal amount of energy and released it in a massive blast wave.

Moli, meanwhile, rised back into the air and began drawing. He turned toward the approaching party of Nazih, Esmi, and Fiske.

The first of the three began to feel the telltale signs of an Atomic draw.

Silas slid, but managed to catch himself on his feet, one arm still on the ground. Struggling to recapture the feeling of his last attack, he drew the remaining heat from the basement behind his false eyes and turned his face towards the flying frog man. Beams of while hot energy unleashed again.

Nazih burst through the door, having used his shield as a battering ram for no particular reason, as the door was clearly unlocked. Positioning himself behind Moli and rushing forward with his shield raised, he attempted to push Moli further into Silas' attack.

Margot reached out with a kinetic grip and attempted to hold Moli down. It was a five on one. Moli didn’t have a chance and Avril didn't raise a hand to defend him. The beams of heat swept clean across him and his head.... fell off. It tumbled to the ground and rolled. Then, Moli reached out, headless, and grabbed Nazih. A pair of long, slimy tentacles emerged from his neck to fastens on the Darhanic boy.

Esmi went pale from the severed head rolling on the floor.

Avril promptly disappeared.

In desperation, Nazih wrenched himself free.

"Get away!" screamed Margot. She could feel a massive amount of energy building within the headless man.

The colossal blast echoed across the bay, and a mushroom cloud rose into the sky.

As the fallout clears and Nazih puts all of his skills in Atomic Magic to use drawing from the cataclysm, they see the shields. The makeshift factory where the sanguinaire Titans were being produced stands, more or less unharmed. The scientists creating the monstrosities live on, leaping in a small ketch and fleeing the scene.

The transformed soldiers began to fall as the energy shields dropped. Avril could be seen ever so briefly before she was gone. The command was given to 'eliminate the hostile parties'.

"Eshran preserve " Silas muttered, woozy. He felt the warmth of his own blood begin to trickle down his forehead. The energy was clear- too clear and loud without his blindfold and the reverberating aftershocks from the incredible blast.

But it wasn’t over. No sooner did the group exit the building then they found themselves surrounded again. More of the giant sanguinares wanted form them, cutting off any exit. But the docks were still visible just behind them. If they could only…

Silas unleashed a kinetic shockwave from behind Fiske, launching the other boy forwards to clear them a path through.

Nazih rushed towards the same direction that Fiske went flying, wondering why Fiske would agree to such an insane gambit, but hoping to provide some support.

While the first titan went down hard, badly wounded, and finished off by a charging Nazih, the second one took only a light blow and then a subsequent wound, staggering out of the fight. From there, they learn, protecting themselves from Fiske's sense master's touch. After he splashed down into the water, the Titans closed in on Nazih, now trapped in the midst of them. Then, came Margot.

She managed to take one of them out, but was quickly forced to contend with another, then further set upon by more. The new sanguinaire found herself surrounded. They closed in to finish her off.

Silas reached for Margot's hand, dragging her away from the fight towards the path cleared by Fiske and Nazih, slipping the terrain underneath him to quicken the path and unsteady attackers, but there were too many.

Head still searing, despite the Yasoi's adept healing, Silas halted to a stop, still many, too many sanguinares between him and the potential freedom of the docks. Squeezing hard on Margot's arm, he drew warmth from her, the night air and for a third time let the impossible energy release from his malformed eyes, targeting them best he could towards the dock, and away from the structures of Mudville.

Only for a titan to suck in all the energy that Silas could offer, open its dreaded maw, and breathe fire back out at him. Nazih was able to take advantage of one titan's minor wound to take her out of the fight. Another one, badly wounded, he outright killed. The remainder closed in on him, however, and hurled him to the ground, ready to tear him to shreds, mere yards from the water.

Fiske sputtered and coughed, still recovering from the violence with which he was thrown into the water.

The battle is all over. The students utterly defeated. Silas stands surrounded by enemies closing in from all sides, Margot and the others too far to help or be helped. On the ground lay Nazih, unconscious and battered. Margot was skewered on a tree branch, coughing up blood. Esmi was crumpled into the fetal position, desperately trying to heal the half-dozen wounds in her torso. Schliem protectively tried to cover his fallen master.

The water rippled; Fiske bobbed up and down, being carried away by the current.

He had nothing left to give. Silas' head felt ready to split open there was too much - all too loud. Why hadn't anyone come to help? Where were the zenos? The century? He just needed time- and quiet- quiet and time. Almost unconsciously he began to draw heat from his surroundings. Frost pricked the stones under his shaking knees and spread outwards. Bitter, frozen cold enveloped the boy's surroundings, his body acting as a pure conduit of the gathered heat to an icy white beam of light into the sky.

In that very last moment, as all that Silas could do was buy more time before the inevitable, there was a sound in the sky.

A beast - no, a machine! - appeared in the sky from a portal, and then another.
And then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. They were impossibly loud. They heeled to the side and banked towards Mudville, doors sliding open on their sides and revealing something like... people? But no, they weren't people. They were... snake people? Guns on swivels pointed towards the army of Titans and then they opened fire.It was a hail of fire and lead, deafening and awe inspiring.

For magic was no match for the sheer firepower of the Royal Sabyssian Marines.

Their machine guns mowed down Titans as if they were mere peasants against the greatest of mages.

Rockets blasted out and slammed into the house and the fleeing sailboat. It erupted in a ball of flames.The snake people whooped and cheered. The machines whirled on the spot, coming in to land. The wind was fantastic. It buffeted them and blew debris away. Then ropes flung themselves out of the lead machine, and down slid six snake people. They landed coiled but rapidly uncoiled. Silas felt his magic disappear. But so did the sanguinaire titans. The squad of six spread out. With precision gunfire, the eliminated all remaining hostiles. One of the titans tried to jump one.

Six reared up to her full height, wrapped around him, and slit his neck with a bowie knife.
All that were left were corpses.
"3 o'clock secure!" shouted Kassem.
"Six secure!" called Sara Sota Six, most appropriately. (edited)
"Nine covered!" shouted Aston.
"I've got twelve. All clear," said Simon.
Kyro and Leusi moved in. "Leusi, dampeners off. See to the wounded."

Magic returned.

Luky Seven laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and Esmi's damaged flesh bound itself together again.

The exertion must have made Silas delirious, he decided. It was the only explanation for the incredulous patterns of energy. One of them came closer to him, he was able to interpret the long single limb, hard and scaly skin. He frowned as his eyes closed, nodding ever-so-slightly. "Knew that wasn't no snake-lady." He slurred eloquently, barely remembering the dancing women from Moli’s the first time he’d visited.

"Come with me," Leusi declared, but Esmi was already on her way to Margot.

The Kerreman was barely alive. Her pulse was weak and she had ceased breathing.

She was gently removed from the branch and it took a couple of minutes to restore her to a passable condition.

"See to the other one," Leusi tried.

"The one with the shield.”

Meanwhile, Kyro approached Silas. He'd already lit up his victory cigar.

"Was a helluva fight you put up here, kid." He held out a hand, gun slung under his shoulder.

Silas' nodding continued, as though on auto-pilot. "Popped the fat one," he replied, and stood. "What?" The images from delirium didn't fade. "Who..." The boy was lost as to where to even begin. The nodding eventually stopped. "Is this Eshran's arrival?" He finally landed on asking, still dazed, but what little focus he had was transfixed on the flame the creature purposefully brought to its mouth.

Kyro grinned and let out a short bark of laughter. "Hah, yeah, I guess you could call it that. More properly, we're called Deliverance Squad." Corporal Luky came up on his five. "They're all healed sir." He glanced her way. "Good work, corporal." Then, he turned back to Silas. "I don't expect you to understand much of what's happened here today, kid, but just keep in mind that there are angels out there in the sky lookin' out for yah." he twisted on the spot then. "Deliverance! Status report!"
They called out all sectors secure.

"Clean up, pack on, head out!" the Lieutenant barked. "Move, soldiers!"

"Sir, permission to restart the swamp squid?" asked Leusi. "Girl's crying about it."
The lieutenant scowled. He glanced down at his watch. "We have a minute ten to contact. Get it done faster."

She saluted. "Sir, yes sir!"

Further up the creek, a rope ladder dropped down for Fiske.

In his exhausted and freezing condition, he failed to grab ahold. One of the sirrahi commandos came down to scoop him up. He was cradled in her coils and dropped ashore.

Then, Schliem's body was repaired. The little sumpfkrake's metabolic processes restarted.

The exhausted boy did his best to come to terms with this sudden religious discovery. He'd never thought of the gods as more than stories his mother used to tell. Such dramatic proof of their existence and force would call for some re-evaluation. He blinked his rotted eyes at the horrible angel. "Might have come a bit sooner." There was more than a slight edge of annoyance to his voice. His attention eventually drifted further out from his own person, and something vaguely familiar about the monsters struck him suddenly. "Tiff! Is she- Have you found her?"

Haha!" Barked Kyro, still chomping on his cigar. "You're not wrong kid. Too much red tape with the high-ups. 'Least we came, huh?" He ruffled Silas hair and started to turn when the boy's words reached him. "Not sure what a Tiff is," he admitted, "but Bravo fished a half-dead meerami from the river and fixed her up." Then, he was finished talking to the primitive. He turned and made his way to the machine. "T-minus twenty!" shouted the lieutenant. "Get to the chopper!" Deliverance squad boarded as it hovered low. Silas, Fiske, Esmi, Margot, and Nazih could feel a huge buildup of Temporal energies. Then, the six 'choppers' were ascending into the sky. Moments later and in perfect synchronization, they disappeared from reality.

"Oh, Oraff zijn Dank!" The boy looked somewhat perplexed by this... person's appearance. Perhaps he knows less about the world than he gave himself credit for. He thanked the commando before sluggishly approaching Silas. "Oi! Give me a warning next time, Bastaard!" It seems he was still a bit annoyed from being thrown into the river.

Silas reached up to his head where the cool, rough hand had touched him. Then they were gone just about as soon as he blinked. Fiske was beside him, and Silas just smiled at the other boy and reached up to muss his hair in a similar manner to his own had been. It was only a small stretch. "I knew you had it in you." He said solemnly.

"Had what in me? The ability to swim?!" Fiske looked livid, though he did not slap away the hand that mussed his hair. The boy pointed at everyone in the group. "All of you owe me one now! I will cash it in whenever I wish, you hear me?!" He most likely will not care much about cashing it in…

Silas only laughed, moving his arm to lean on the taller boy's shoulder. "Way I see it, the damned God's owe us one at this point." Gradually, the effects of the strangers arrival stirred chaos into the confused citizens of Mudville. "Bout time to head home?" He asked.

"The God's should give me enough bennies to get a grand mansion for all my good deeds today!" He stood proudly, letting out the part of how scared he really was. "Ah, yes. Home does sound rather nice... I could use some rest..."

A visitor showed up in Silas' room. Desmond was out, but the former urchin was still recovering both mentally and - despite the healing he had received - in some ways physically from the events of the day before. Hugo Hunghorasz was dead - finally, at age 117, in his sleep - and the free city had declared a moratorium on classes and two days of mourning. It was timely. There was a lot to process. The visitor, however, was not.

He was leaning against the edge of the youth's bunk. Somehow, he had made it past all of Desmond's various traps. None had been triggered. "Please don't run," he said simply. "I'm not here to cause you any trouble."

Silas had trouble sleeping since the events in Mudville. There was exhaustion in his body and mind, but disturbing memories of what he'd witnessed crowded his thoughts each time sleep felt close. Wake-fullness did nothing to prepare him for the unexpected visitor. Despite his request, Silas lept to a crouching position, causing the cobbled creation of the bunkbed to creek threateningly. "Who're you?" He asked finally, "Desmond's out if you're looking for him, I don't take messages."

The figure continued to lean, unconcerned. "I'm the Traveler," he said casually, "and, while Desmond's a friend of mine, I'm not looking for him. I'm looking for you."

His casualness was met with every muscle in Silas's body freezing up, and each hair standing on end. This is what sticking his nose in where it didn't belong got him. "That wasn't your operation in the Mudville house?" He asked anxiously, wasting know time to determine what manner of visit this was.

"You know it wasn't," the Traveler offered. "You know a great many things now, in truth." He narrowed his eyes. "And that's good." He was... Desmond, the urchin realized. Then, he wasn't. He was a woman instead, and there was something immediately familiar about her. "The world is full of people who'll try to step on you. Knowledge is power."

"Or a target for someone's boot." Silas snorted in reply as he fell back on his heels to sit cross-legged on the mattress. Running wouldn't do him much good even if he tried. "Isn't that why you hide your face?"

The Traveler did not speak immediately. Instead, she shook her head. Silas noticed that she had only one eye. "It is because the Traveler is most powerful when she is the embodiment of an idea - when anyone can imagine themselves as her... or him. If regular people are to have power, it can't be under the thumb of Mama Traveler or under her protective wing." She was Ahrora. "They need to do it themselves." She paused and something about her demeanor changed. "It's also for me. Good as I may be with the Gift, I'm human, and I know I'll be tempted." She let a sigh out and flopped back onto Desmond's bed. "Tempted to be just like them: another person who said she'd change the world and then became part of the problem. If nobody knows who I am, though..." She trailed off, leaving him to draw a conclusion. "Anyways, enough about me."

They, not we. Distracting as the Traveller's second form might have been, Silas still heard the difference. "If you're looking for another fanatic to follow you I'm not it." The idea of taking such a firm stance against a system he now lived and breathed as a student did not coincide with 'laying-low'. "But you probably know all that and more about me. So why are you here?"

Then, the Traveler was no longer Aurora but... something else. She was... long and snakelike. "What is more fanatical?" she asked almost... sharply, "To accept a world where you can be murdered at any moment simply because you are not as strong in your use of the Gift as others? Where you may go to bed hungry, deprived, and humiliated for lack of that special ingredient that only a select few jealously guard? Or to want to make it better?"

No longer human, ironically, she drew up to her full height. "If that is fanaticism, then I will wear it proudly, but I will still wear it as nobody. It is an idea and not a figurehead that should be followed, because ideas do not govern us. They reflect us. Their great beauty and fairness is that they only hold the power that people give them!" She was in proselytizing mode now, perhaps unable to help herself. "You have felt the wrongness. I know you have felt it. I have seen it in your words and actions, when you acted not for yourself but for others, even against your self-interest. I know you are more than the world paints you as, but I cannot live inside your head, nor would I."

She evaluated him, pacing or else almost stalking about the room. "You are... some species of afraid," she decided. "Tired, desiring of escape. I know it well." She shook her head. "But there is no escape. Very great wheels are turning and they turn the world. Events of import are happening, and they will crush the great and the small alike if allowed to proceed. And you," she concluded, "You are just notable enough, Silas Rieger, to be a target for someone's boot the way that things stand now.... and that is a tragic thing, because you were heroic, whether you believe it or not."

She shook her head adamantly. "You used your power to kill but, in killing some, you saved thousands." She'd risen to heights of earnest fervour with her previous words but quickly seemed to turn anxious, antsy. "I would do the same," she assured him. "I wish to do the same, but I fear those are forces even beyond my reach. Ironic though it sounds, I need you and those like you to lend your strengths and abilities to our cause, else the horrors that you witnessed last night will not simply disappear. They won't go away. They'll only worsen. " She broke off, then, fists clenching and unclenching, and shrugged. "That is my piece. I've said it."

The things she spoke of, heroic and saving thousands, were as fantastical as her form. The form of the saviours that had come for them that day. Sirrahi, Meerami, dark and command magic, and whatever in the hells had crawled out of Moli's head; if all such wild things were possible, was hope so unimaginable? Silas shifted uncomfortably under her judgment, biting his tongue to keep from arguing with her summations. He had tried and failed to rationalize his actions since he'd taken them. Whatever Moriff had against him was nothing compared to those who would come looking for him now. "I want things to change." He said slowly, "Don't know if things can, or how to go about it but I want to believe you." A small smile wavered on his face. "Which is nearly the best thing I can say about anyone since coming to this place." In a smooth, well-practiced movement, Silas lifted himself from the bunk to the floor, standing far below the imposing shape the traveler had taken. "If you need me, I'll listen with an open mind- not go in blindly." The smile widened into a self-satisfied grin. "Promising anything more would be a lie." He finished with a shrug and offered a hand.

The Traveler had changed once more. He was a man in crimson robes now, and he took the youth’s hand. His smile was - if still a touch tight - warm, at least. “Then that is a start, Silas Reiger. The world is a better place when we listen.” They shook. “We shall speak again soon.”

"Goodnight," Was all Silas could think to reply, the surrealness of the situation settling in. He gave the uninvited guest a nod, but hesitated before returning to his bunk. "More might be willing to listen than you think." It was impossible to tell whether his last comment was heard; when he was atop his mattress again, Silas was the only one in the room.

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After all of the speeches were done and dormitories assigned, a small army of staff filtered through the crowds, repeated announcements were made, and signage put up directing students to Balthazar Hall at appointed times for course selection and Apprentice Group assignments. When there, they found the following:

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Legend

italics= NPC
bold = master
f9ad81 = human
fdc68a = yasoi
fff79a = hegelan
c4df9b = eeaiko
82ca9d = sirrahi
7ea7d8 = meerami

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Welcome to Act Four of The Hourglass Order! For this cycle, feel free to do any of the following:

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"Are we reaaaally goin' all this way to see some wanii?" Casii complained. The yasoi were gathered together, confused, as they seemed to have lost the far slower crippled yanii’s they were grouped with. Casii and Isii hooked arms and hands, the former too busy whining to pay any notice. Jamboi followed along with his arm hooked around his gnarled staff, looking confused as he was sure he’d had Penny with him.

“They're all gone, Yasii.” Ismette skipped ahead. "We're goin tah see some ships!" Then, Ismette sensed something, her ears twitched and she narrowed her eyes. "Wait a second. There's something just up the other way: east!"

"Ships?!?" Casii looked stumped. "Why in six hells we're goin' see some yanii ships? Wait, wha? What you on about, Isii?" Casii was for following Isii's sense.

The Yasoi managed to find themselves a black aberration, Casii’s addiction kicked in, and she went in to devour its deliciousness whilst Jamboi siphoned what he could for her benefit. The group started their way back towards the Lighthouse, whilst the last boat just departed and headed south towards Mudville.

Ismette had the great idea to hitch a ride, then encouraged them to jump. Casii chickened out at the last moment and, whilst Jamboi made it across to the deck, Isii wasn’t so lucky. She fell shy as she grabbed hold of what she could. Jamboi offered his staff out towards her, though she wasn’t able to grip it, hand sliding, and fell into the water. The yasoi soon using the gift to jump upon the deck. Casii came across an empowered tree vine.

"Hey Isii! You ain't supposed to do that." As Casii looked toward her. “Isii all wet like a fish.” Jamboi observed, amused. "Yeah, well, you were supposed to jump!" Isii retorted.

Casii reached out to grab wet Isii as Jamboi shook his head, too much time with the yanii making her sloppy. He moved alongside Casii as he pointed towards Isii with his thumb as he whispered low toward her, "Yanii'jexoff". "I haven't lost my yasoi hearing, poca!" Isii snarled.
"Sometimes I wish I did", he cleans his ear with his little finger as he makes reference to hearing more than he wished to before settling into his new tower attic. Ismette blinked innocently. "Why?" She tilted her pretty lil' head to the side.

They could hear loud banging from the bowels of a nearby ship as they moved to explore it in curiosity. Casii looked towards it, "Y'all wanna be goin' below? Naw, it ain't a bit too crammed in there, ain't it?". "I would not like to venture into the darkness," Ismette agreed, as she reached out with her energy sense, attempting to gain more information. "I would not." She isn't able to figure out much, but there appears to be a living thing down there.

Casii turned to glare at Jamboi. "I know you Jambii, yer gonna say sumthin' like we should." He had already started knocking upon the floor with his lucky stick, "What is the worst that could happen?" Right as he lifts the stick away, something pierces the deck as a geyser of yellow slime spurts out of the gap. Casii and Jamboi are covered in it as it stings and itches!

Casii is compelled to scratch upon it as Isii blinks at the pair. Casii frowns, lifting her arm up to her face. "What is it, yer thinkin'?", Jamboi attempted to use kinetic energy to flick it off him, like a dog which could came into the home after being out on a rainy day. "That is Yellowbalm," Ismette warns, more or less unhelpful. It begins to leech into their skin. Casii uses chemical magic to turn the outer layer of her skin to be unsavoury.

The yellow slime fades away. Both of them are happy that it is gone. Very happy. Almost a little too happy. But such are life's minor victories

Jamboi looked toward Isii, smiling bright, "Trust you to know what this sticky, gooey substance is." Ismette blinks. "Why yes," she chirps, "I am very well-learnt." The thumping and bumping continues. Ismette traipses over to the hold door. Casii snorted, "Well, that ain't nuttin' much. What a mild incon-vey-nance." Isii looked back towards them, and pauses before opening it. "Should I?" she wonders aloud. Casii shook her head, "What, you jealous or somethin'? You wanna get all slimed?" Isii makes a pouty face and nods. "Be my guest." Casii says reluctantly. "Go ahead, sounds like a brilliant idea." Jamboi grinned towards her sarcastically. Isii smiles at Jamboi and opens it. She is immediately bowled off of her feet as a colossal eruption of reddish slime pours forth from the hold. Isii is drenched. "So much for being well-learned. Reading a yanii book doesn't make you smart." As he slides his palm across his own face. Casii is prepared and dodges nimbly. Jamboi isn't so quick. While he's not covered, per se, he definitely has some on him, and It begins to leech into their skin.
“Ugh!" Ismette screams. "Vile stuff! Get off me!"

Casii climbs up the mast just before Isii opens the hatch, perching on the edge as her companions get blasted by slime. "See y'all. Ain't nuttin' in a book teachin' 'bout how to be street smart." Jamboi attempts to fling it off himself again. Casii points her Living Staff towards Isii and tries the same chemical trick to turn her skin foul.

"What are you pointing that weapon at me for, you traitor!?" Ismette screams.
Jamboi rolled his eyes, "I guess it was my turn to get splattered by Isii".
"Why don't you just shut up, you wisecracking jackass!” she snarled.
He shakes his head, "Is that any way to treat your brother-cousin-father-son-in-law or whatever your Tarlonese relations are?" she scowled further, "Piss off!",
He sighed, "Imagine having to kiss my wife, and she had your face." Then, without words, she flies at him!

Jamboi evades the attack, then uses his lucky stick to bonk her upon the head. Isii opens up a portal into the VOID as the stick begins to fade into it but then is rejected violently. The VOID does not appear to want it. Isii stands there, panting and glaring. "Ugh, whatever!"

Ismette can feel Casii doing something to her. She's mad, though. Mad at this bully. Mad at Casii for no particular reason. "Hey! What are yer two bickerin' for? Y'all take some lumps in the head with that stuff? Maybe it smellin' po-ta-Hey!" Casii stops as she sees her friends squabbling. "Oh heeeellll no, Isii!" Casii points her staff at Isii and tries to chemically mess with her mind to calm her down. The VOID was never good. Casii to chemically calm Isii. "Well, maybe we don't all have cool greengrowth manas, alright?" Ismette snaps. "Damn, Isii at least try 'n dodge!", "You're welcome for shielding you!" she retorted.

"Since you love to get so sticky, take these." Jamboi releases the other slimes upon Isii, causing her to be covered in the green gunk. "Why did it have to be a snooty princess like Tyrel of all people, and not someone real like Penny?" He expressed his annoyance as he recalled his interaction with her. Isii rolled her eyes, "The yr't'shor? Ugh, why is she so lucky?" He looked towards Isii and all he saw was Tyrel. "I am not sure how you can stand smooching that face, Casii". Ismette knew that she wasn't gorgeous. She was just 'easy', and being that way felt... bad. She hugged herself and glared at Ashon. He was handsome, but he was a poca.

The purple slime explodes out of the hold now as it splashes upon Casii and Jamboi. As Casii gets a splash of slime on her, unwittingly, the rational mind she had earlier was gone. Now all there was desire. "Yea, Jambii? You get that tight little ass 'ver here. You too, Isii."
Casii dropped down trying to grab the closest one for a big ol' smooch, willing or unwilling! Then moved to grab the other as she gives each of them a big kiss, embracing them together. "I be tellin' ya. We need love, not war. We ain't no yaniis, y'all." as she takes a page out of Isii’s book. Jamboi sighed as he accepted the kiss and gives Isii a light embrace too within the hug. Surprisingly.

Ismette is... rather surprised. For once, she isn't really feeling all that... loving, but it would be rude to reject them, even the jerkass. She starts to feel guilty. It takes hold of her heart as blue slime squirts up into the air, and spatters her. Casii loves her. How could she have been so mean and have thought such nasty things. Ashon was just... affected by the slime. Ismette begins to cry. Jamboi puts his arms around Isii as she starts to cry and starts to cry with her. The three of them in a big cuddle pile of sadness.

The realization sinks in soon after. Casii didn't even register the blue slime hitting her, she only felt guilty. How could she be so jealous of Isii all the time when she went and kiss Jamboi right in front of her! And Ashon really did deserve better than her constant stiff attitude towards him. He only meant well, and was he into her? Casii felt like crying, but she didn't, merely hung her head. "Look I'm sorry 'bout kissin' 'n all. I didn't mean to."

Jamboi attempted an apology towards Isii, "I cannot stand how you Tarlonese just... expose yourselves like a field mouse to a hawk, even when your own kin want to hurt you? How you are all in each other's business, causing all that untold hurt and ache. I shouldn't take it out on you, Isii. I am also sorry Casii, I should have moved out sooner and given you your space.” Ismette just cried softly for a bit, Hugged them both, and then... the orange slime appeared.

Ismette gets heavily splattered with orange slime. She jumps to her feet and wipes the tears from her eyes. "You know what, suunei, oilan? Sometimes one just needs a good cry!" Suddenly, she is rather chipper. Her eyes fix upon the shore. "We have an adventure to go on! YYYAAAAAASSS!" Casii nodded vigorously. "Yeeeeewwiiiiiiii! That's my gurl, let's gettin' movin'." Jamboi who didn’t get affected and still rather sad, "We could go to the Border Wood, I suppose... lots of trees."

The yasoi set off, leaping easily onto the island. Chock-full of enthusiasm, they swam across the small channel, cleaning off in the process. They made landfall in Mudville where they raided the Crying Lion Tavern and started a bar brawl.

Next episode of Knife-Ear Adventures: Tavern brawl.

Casii swished a fresh jamp’ysp in her mouth tasting the bitter sour of the juices the nut provided. It brought her to her usual stewed state. The recovering ground of Ersand’Enise blurred and swayed in her vision. The ground seemed to move and stretch everything around the yasoi to far lengths away so she could be just on her own for a moment. It was bliss. Far and away from here.

Yaniis. It was easy for Casii to blame them for the woes of the world but she had a moment of clarity taking a white aberration after the carnage wrought by the aberrations. Yaniis were poisoning themselves in a different, but parallel sense as the yasoi were. She came out here to Ersand’Enise to escape all that back home and she was just getting a different flavor here. It was a sad reality to come to, one that she might not have made if not for the strength of that white aberration.

She turned and spat, leaning on her Living Staff that seemed to tremble with excitement. It was like it knew where they were going. Home, at least what Casii considered. She didn’t really know too much about her staff, but she did know where it came from and in a sense this was a bit like home for the staff as well. Legend had it that Qarii’Muuna and the yasoi greengrowths came from the scattering of fallen leaves from the World Tree. The fertilizer that found a way into the plants and then into the yasoi that lived there.

Funny that.

Vyshta had a weird way of making coincidence work.

Going home wasn’t something she ever thought she’d consider so soon but here she was. At the behest of her mother of all people. Although, after all this in yanii-land, she could use something a little more familiar. There was something daunting about going home, but she felt a certain compulsion at this time.

“Git’yer bums movin’. I ain’t payin’ for’a portal to remain open all day.” Casii hollered. Thankfully, she wasn’t going alone.

How... Peculiar this all was. A huusoi in a wheelchair opening a portal for a wagon, and a bunch of others getting ready to go through it. Her control over temporal was impressive for a yanii, but she was still a yanii. A tall scarred man walked into the fray, and he noticed a strange array of accents around the group. One that was almost definitely tarlonese, but the other reeked of the poverty of a constantian sister. Regardless, he hid his contempt and put on a friendly smile

"I don't suppose you got room for another?" spoke Cal, putting on a friendly smile to this ragtag group. By their mannerisms, and the smell of jamb'ysp coming from the hicks mouth, this would be a lucrative endeavour.

"That everyone?" Jocasta asked, craning her neck and then rising from her wheelchair to take a look, hovering a few feet above the ground. Ismette followed her lead, though without the wheelchair or the hovering. "I think so," she chirped, glancing back expectantly and excitedly at Casii.

Ashon is taken by the hand as Penny led him to the portal, the pair of them made their way toward the gathered crowd. He gave one of those large, goofy smiles as he waved to everyone when they reached their destination. "Got room for two more?"

Oh!" Casii straightened up as Jamboi arrived. Perfect timing. "Ye, reckon you can Jambii. Which reminds me. Y'all get into any trouble. You find me."

Penny detaches from Jamboi. "You know, my great-gran was from around here," she chirps, striding through. She's wearing a knee-length dress, a thick stocking, and a tough leather boot and gloves. "I even know some of the local slang!"

"Last call!" shouts Jocasta, watching the final few shuffle through, including a couple of late arrivals. She prepares to close the portal. "Oh hey, are we gonna sleep in a tent?" she hears Penny inquire.

They stepped through onto a small peninsula that was surrounded on three sides by the murky green water. Massive trees towered out of the water with rickety buildings, stairs, and bridges climbed all the way up some of those trees. Scattered throughout were brightly coloured displays of yasoi treasures and trophies proudly displayed, hanging off of the wooden shacks or bridges. More impressive, however, were the many, thousands, of various pots, tins, crates, jars, and whatever could contain soil were filled and then made to grow various flora that the yasoi here have gathered. Everywhere there was space, these containers were placed with the densest concentration being the ramshackled shelves, hanging wires, and whatever else could be used to hold the various containers up at the canopy so the produce had a chance to get the sun with as dense of a canopy as Qarii’Muuna had.

Casii turned when everyone was through. “Here we are.” There was quite a bit of joy in her voice as she inhaled deeply, the muggy stink of her swamp. The chii’tuurs were wallowing loud in a constant droning buzz, giving a constant background noise.

“Mind yer step.” She added, pointing the ground where a collection of discarded ReTanese porcelain plates were dumped. They had been there for a while, dirtied and decayed, with the pattern scarcely visible any more. “What yer all thinkin’?”

Ashon looked toward the other Yasoi that he was not familiar with, Cal’tuuro, and tapped him upon the back of his shoulder with his lucky staff in greeting as they made their way through the portal. "Watch your step, those are no stones."

Cal'tuuro was taken aback by the scenery. How... primitive this place was? And yet, it felt nostalgic. Like a home he'd never been to. Tall canopies, dirty plates and barely held together infrastructure. This place was nothing like Luuntiil and certainly nothing like the academy. And oh gods, the smell. He felt compelled to use his gift to dampen it, but he setlled for covering his nose with a hankerchief, before one of the other yasoi tapped him with a staff. One he'd seen walking with a one legged huusoi brat. A noble of some kind. Fetish or very religious was the question, but he stopped his thought to turn and face the lad.

"Interesting! Very interesting! What are they then? Fancy being a tour guide for a foreign moila?" he asked with a degree of curiosity, keeping the same friendly tone as earlier. Deep down, he was hiding a thin layer of disgust at the unprompted touch. He really, really, really hoped he didn't get dirt on his jacket. But what he couldn't see, wouldn't hurt him.

Ashon smiled widely toward him, sniffled his nose as he scratched it, then wiped his hand down the back of the other Yasoi's jacket. "Welcome to Mycormi, you have swamp, swamp, and swamp. Don’t mind the smell, it is going to get worse." He had some cork nose stoppers, he held out his hand to offer it to him. "Want to use these?" Ashon placed his in when he scratched his nose.

Cal's ears perked up at a conversation going on between a tall eskandish girl and the yasoi chick that invited them all here, but he quickly got brought back to reality when he felt a wipe on his jacket. He felt his face muscles about to twitch, but quickly drew and released some chemical relaxant to prevent himself losing his cool. He had to blend in here. He drew just a bit from the sound of the chii'turs and cleansed his back and the smell of his nose, before addressing the kid with no manners.

"Don't mind if I do. Cal'tuuro by the way." he spoke, taking the corks and offering a hand to shake, cleansing the plugs as soon as they entered his hand with a deft use of his gift at least 3 times over, before popping them in.

Penny skipped ahead along the boardwalk. "I thought you yasoi were supposed to be used to this!" she chirped, twisting and grinning. Then, one of her crutches went right through a wooden plank and fell onto her stomach with a "whuff" and a yelp. She rolled onto her back and sat up, dusting her knee off and scowling for a moment. "It smells so alive!" she wondered aloud.

Ashon takes the offered hand and pulled Cal into an impromptu hug, his arm reaching around to pat upon the back of his jacket, that middle bit you can never seem to reach no matter how much you try.. "Ashon'amar'loiyang. Some in these parts address me as King. It is good to have another of some class here. These Mycormi never leave the swamp, home is where the heart it."

He noticed how the yasoi's attention is on the other delight of Mycormi. "It is a swamp, there are some plants in these parts. Now excuse me..."

Cal'tuuro took the hug in stride. He was far from used to it, but he couldn't spite tradition. He broke away as soon as the other gave any leeway. And when he faced to chat to the other yasoi, he noticed the huusoi girl had questioned him. The way she'd fallen made him want to chuckle, but he hid a smile. He wasn't any better in these wild lands after all. He walked over carefully, watching his step all the while and offered a hand to the young lady.

"Some of us are, but I'm a city dweller. Seems like you are too, but you're handling the smell a lot better than I am." he spoke jovially, letting the faint smile show. He thought that this girl might have been luckier to not fall, being yrash and all.

Ashon moved over toward Penny, lowering himself down beside her as he gave her a warm smile. "Yanii’jexoff, lelan’elar.". He reached over to stroke Penny upon the cheek and offered her cork nose buds as well, before he stood up to unhook the crutch from between the planks. He looked toward Cal as he approached as well as he was watching him offer his hand out toward her.

Penny blinked. She smiled as she took his hand. "I can see that men of class are drawn to each other," she decided, rising to her foot and taking the crutch from Jamboi. "Qitoip, oilan'elar." She placed a small kiss on his cheek before nodding and curtsying in Cal's direction. "Qitoip, moila. Penny ya thaluu nax ya ton'broa'soi elax, cip naxa aly'jath'nan el'yax yil Qarii'muuna!"
Thank you, boyfriend. Thank you, brother. I'm afraid I'm also a city person, but my great-grandmother was from Qarii'muuna.

"Tiil, suunei! Joi yuul yasoi dolrey!" he bowed his head slightly. It took him by surprise how well she spoke. Must have been Vyshta's tricks at work. It didn't stop him from leaning over to her and hushing his voice in a jokey way, still speaking loud enough that the sharp ears of the other lad could still hear. "Your oilan'elar called you a bad word, y'know. Not very gentlemanly if you ask me!" a slightly mischievous grin marking his face as he japed.
Good, sister! You speak yasoi comfortably!

Ashon scratched his head as he is glad his persona is that of a open book. "Qit'soi'lex." He watched and raised his eyebrow toward Cal as he leant over toward her, he in turn leaned against Cal's back with his arm and weight in a rather dominant manner upon his tica. "Penny, chel ton’broas moila Cal'tuuro."
Sweet (Language)Talking
Penny, (see)meet City brother Cal'tuuro

Penny's eyes flicked from one to the other. They were... getting territorial over her. She knew, of course, that men did this sometimes, but never over the likes of Penelope Pellegrin. "Hey, boys," she said, nonetheless feeling a little bit flattered, even excited inside as she tried to defuse the budding rivalry, "We're falling behind the others! Come on! You're gonna lose to an yrash!"

"You heard the patha, time for us to climb the tree, city brother." tapping Cal'Turro right between the shoulder blades with the lucky staff to encourage him to get moving as he gave Penny a large smile. "If you make it, you might get to meet Casii and Isii. One will introduce you to the pleasures of the plants you took an interest in, and the other... You got to wait and see." he gave Cal a wink as he moved to take Penny by the hand as they moved together toward their next destination. The Tree.

Penny struggles and slips, taking a nasty fall down a few branches but has a strange familiar sense of knowing what to do and manages to catch herself.

Ashon cannot fault Penny's enthusiasm, if anything, he found it very endearing. Penny is able to do anything, and he loved how she always so independent and pressed ahead unhindered as if the world was opening before her, and stepping forward boldly as if nothing can set her back. He could have easily carried her up the tree, and he imagined many would step in and take over, having assumed she cannot. He moved up behind Penny as he wrapped his arms around her waist, taking a moment to secure his personal dervisher belt around her. "Now fly." He let go, allowing the girl the opportunity swing like her ancestors.

Penny grabbed hold and, after a moment of hesitation, took off. "AAAAAAAHEEEAAAHEEEAAAAHH!" she yelled, thoroughly embarrassing herself. She let out a squeal of delight. "This is amazing!" she called, as she swung back closer. "You do this all the time!?"

Meanwhile, Ismette looked her way and, after a moment, exchanged a glance and a grin with the other yasoi.

Casii reached the top of the climb. It would only take her to reach up to grab the rope to scale up the rest of the way to reach the top. Before she did so, however, she turned to see the howling Penny swinging about. She looked down at Isii, amused. "Yaniis..." She shook her head, smiling at Isii.

"Spendin' yer whole life flat on the ground is a waste!" Casii called out with a chuckle, reaching to grab the rope lazily and climbed the rest of the way to surface above the canopy. There wasn't much in terms of footing, a stray board, a knotted rope, a bit some curations for the branch shape allowed one to carefully transverse the canopy.

But the view was worth it.

Over time the yasoi here curated the trees to grow flat canopies, forming a rough horizontal plane. From a great tree, they could look out to the whole of Qarii'Muuna and Mycormi beyond. Densely populating this canopy platform were many pots and containers containing the bulk of Qarii'Muuna's agriculture.

In the past, this had been colourful fruits and vegetables gathered from all over. Unfortunately, today most plots were taken up by the bakeleaf, grapevines, poppy, and in a few tucked away spots rarer opioids or psychedelics that would lay even a hegelan out. There was still produce up here, of course. Had to feed the yasoi here somehow.

Casii reached out and grabbed Isii, putting an arm around her partner's waist and leaning her head onto the other's shoulder. "Told you it was worth seein'. Wishin' it could be better..."

Casiii lifted her head to address the others. "Yer welcome to whatever we grow. Just pluck some seeds and reseed 'em."

She turned back to Isii. "Race to the next tree? I'll have you knowin' I ain't ever lose up 'ere." She darted a glance around to the other yasoi. "Ain't no race for any yaniis but bet for yasoi if y'all wanna...

Fash'naxii'aca!"

Penny looked at Ashon expectantly when Casii called for the yasoi to race. "Don't worry about me!" she called. "Go! Gimme the lucky stick! Run run run!"

Ashon brought Penny close as she placed a big kiss upon her lips as he handed over the staff, "Don't try to lose it, it gets angry." He went chasing after Casii and Ismette as he raced toward the other tree. As he moved past Cal'Turro, he called after him. "Don't hang back, or you might be mistaken for a Jexoff, city brother!"

Cal smiled at the guy, as infuriating as he could be, his uncivilized ways were growing on him. Opting not to swing around the trees like a monkey, he simply drew from the various sources of sound and momentum from the various critters in the air, and used his bloodbinding magic to construct platforms to move across on.

"Don't worry about me, try not to swing into a tree lover boy." he shouted back, keeping as much pace as he could with the dervishing duo.

"Hey bitch," said Jocasta with a smirk, "we've got a puzzle to solve. Put down the books and stop being boring."

“Hey cunt.” she replied upon smacking her book closed. It looked like the Air Threshers would have to wait, “I suck at puzzles. Can I, like, make background music?” she stood up and offered her hand before the inevitable 'Hand!'

Instead, Jocasta started snapping her fingers. "Rhythm, bruja." She bobbed her head from side to side. She glanced at Yuliya as well, almost expectantly.

A very low effort beat from the bottom of her throat came with similar bobbing of her head, except forward and back, “Unce, unce, unce.”

"And you, babushka?" Jocasta teased.

Yuli began humming a tune to match, proceeding to dance to the others. The puzzle had proved an ample warmup for the moves she was pulling out. She didn't even give herself a chance to be offended by Jocasta's remark, enjoying the banter a lil too much.

Then, just as they'd started getting into it, Jocasta stopped snapping. Her face went deadpan. "Hand." she called, holding both of hers out and drawing with a mighty 'whoosh!'

“Weee.”

Just like that they found themselves standing - or sitting - in the cellar, just in front of the statue of Lilith the Redeemed. "Okay," said Jocasta, "So, what do we know so far?" She was all business now, looking to Yuliya.

What followed was a set of puzzles that challenged knowledge of colours and timing. They nearly failed it - the great minds of the future almost missed out on greatness by confusing colour combinations. Ultimately they did, and after a grand lightshow in the dark, the heavy steel door to the sub-basement opened with a poorly-oiled groan. From it emerged a woman.

Only, she was … not quite human. A blindfold covered her eyes. Great, angel-like wings sprouted from her back. ”Not perfect,” she judged, ”but good enough.” Even though they could not see her eyes, she looked them over. "The last group solved it too," she admitted, "but you have to go back nearly a century to find another."

Zarina flinches at the sight of the 'Angel' that has joined them. She very carefully hops off her improvised seat and just looks up and stared impolitely, focused on the wings in particular, “I guess, uh,” she shrugs, “Colors are hard.” she answers with very little thought. “Are you -” she nudges her chin toward the general direction of the angel, “Lilith?”

"Oh, I've been called that before, yes." She nodded and smiled.

Many proddings were made by the group to figure out this one’s identity, although interest is brought to her blindfolded eyes, “Can we see your eyes?” Zarina casually asks, and then smiles broadly like the Angel, “How are you, by the way?”

"I am rarely depicted with them shown," she admitted, slightly awkward for a moment. "They may prove frightening, I warn you." She smiled back. "Otherwise, I am quite well, though worried about some of the poor decisions I have witnessed of late." She shrugged. "People do have their free will, though, and that is sacred," she concluded. "Do you still wish to look upon my eyes?"

“I do.” answers Zarina, dropping the grin for a more deadpan look. She braces herself. Nibbler is invited into her arms to hide his innocent eyes.

"Very well, brave one," the angel-like figure said. She reached up, removed the blindfold, and wrapped it around her hand. When she opened her eyes, Kaspar, Jocasta, Yuliya, and Zarina beheld horror and wonder in equal measures. In her eyes they bore witness to everything that they had seen and everything that they would ever see. They knew their own deepest truths, their beginnings, and their endings. They were filled with the sense that these were both immutable and - paradoxically - were not. Also, they learned the figure's name, though it was Ingrid who spoke it first. The goddess nodded and smiled. "That is what many call me," she replied. "Though I have known many mortal names as well."

She looked to Zarina. "You met my eyes most unflinchingly," she said in admiration, "so I shall grace you with one extra piece of information. My dear sister, Ahn-Shune, is also among you, though she has sadly not been summoned to this place."

Zarina, along with her comrades, were all graced with a glorious flash of things Zarina did not have the intelligence to truly articulate. Never had she been more frightened, yet she also felt fully in control. Like everything was as it should be. “I see.” she mumbled, “No really, I see. Wow.” she shook her head, and then looked up at the Angel, now named Ahn-Dami.

Her gaze, still unflinching, met the veiled eyes of the divine being once more, “You walk as mortals, on this world.” she started, clenching with her free hand a mysterious, oddly cold coin she had been keeping on her, “Did one of you walk among us during the trials?”

"I am glad that my gift... or curse has proven useful to you," the goddess replied. Then, her face grew serious. "The one who walked among you during the trials was like us in some ways, but not of us."

Zarina furrowed her eyebrows, uncertain of what to make of it. The coin in her hand slid between her fingers, and the Goddess could undoutably tell who she was talking about with that trinket in hand, “I see.” she mumbled, before turning her attention to Jocasta. Zazzy sighed and approached the distressed girl. Nibbler was u n l e a s h e d for emotional support on the Tethered's lap.

And then, Zarina froze. Wait. These were actual Gods. This was no fever dream.

The confidence she had shown thus far was characteristic of her, but meeting a God was … Not the norm.

Zarina fell to her knees, and bowed in prostration.

“Forgive me.” cold sweats dripped from her forehead and hit the flooring as she prostrated herself, “I should not have been so familiar, Great One.”

"Truly spoken, peon. You have been spared eternal damnation, this day, solely on the back of your apology and appropriate groveling before my divine radiance and might." Ahn-Dami regarded them all, unamused. "KNEEL!" she demanded of those present.

Then, the goddess laughed and it was a pleasant and surprisingly normal sound. "I was once a person, not so different from you. So long as you are not unjust, you should not fear me. Now..." she trailed off and smiled. "Your business, oh how wonderful it shall be."

Zarina's heart was racing. Oh how close they were to a fate worse than death. She was happy to have saved her friends. Hell, even saving Trypano. Deep down, in this abyss of fear and anxiety she felt happiness in this terror.

And then came the punchline. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, she didn't emerge from her humble position until a good moment later. This Goddess, she spoke like a person. Like a less saucy Zarina. Or maybe saucier. It was hard to tell.

Zazzy stood, red-cheeked and clearly embarrassed, “I must admit ... A God speaking so familiarly to us mortal feels uh-” her gaze was avoidant, but she eventually fixated the wings. The oh so pretty wings, “Very weird.”

Zeno Bucks was to be wonderful, though?! Zaz blinked and continued her turbulent train of thoughts, “But weird in a goooood way. ZeeBee is actually gonna kick ass? Really?” she pumps her fist to hip level, “PLEASE tell me it doesn't get bought by the Prenchies. PLEAAASE!”

Ahn-Dami grinned. "Oh yes. It is a roaring success," she assured the girl. "As for the Perrench? I believe, for once, I shall withhold." She smiled only the slightest bit.

Then, the proposition of both the book of Ahn-Shune and the Lantern of Shune-Zept came to be, encouraged by Ahn-Dami.

The Lantern made contact with the book. Then, they were pushed apart. From the book sprung... another woman. She was plump, bespectacled, and properly dressed. She took a moment to beat some dust from her clothing. Then, she reached down and picked up the book, straightening to look about. She paused when her eyes took in Ahn-Dami. "Ah, sister," she acknowledged. "Yes. I had been looking forward to this meeting." She cleared her throat and regarded the students. "Yes, I am Ahn-Shune," she remarked slightly awkwardly. "This is my sister: Ahn-Dami." She blinked. "Yes, we are your... gods, I suppose. Thank you for bringing us together. It has been some time since we both walked among mortals in tandem." She took a moment to adjust her glasses and tucked the book under one arm, knitting her hands before her. "Now, I imagine you might have questions." She swallowed and smiled, regarding them all evenly enough.

"Shune, you are absurd," chided Dami, shaking her head. "Embrace me, sister."

The second goddess looked mortified. "But they're..."

"Yes, mortals." Dami rolled her eyes. "So were we."

"It's... positively unbecoming!" Shune protested.

"Yes, yes. Lodge a complaint, will you." Ahn-Shune was taken from the side, whether she was prepared for it or not, and turned. "Come now." It was but a small embrace: nothing melodramatic, demonstrative, or particularly embarrassing. Both turned to face the students. "My apologies for the interruption," Ahn-Shune quickly resolved, clearing her throat.

"Sister,” asked Ahn-Dami, and Ahn Shune twisted.

"Yes, sister?"

"Is Shune-Zept going to be making an appearance?"

Ahn-Shune waved dismissively. "I suppose he'll do whatever it is that he does." She shrugged, "So, who knows, really?"

First instinct: More prostration.

But the whole interaction was human. Maybe too human for someone who had grown to worship these beings on the daily. It was like meeting an idol, except way, way more. And they behaved no different than most people barring some supernatural aspects here and there.

It felt like the mystique was disappearing. Zarina felt something deep within her, something bad. Like there may not actually be anything to turn to in a time of need. No great being watching over her in the darkest hours. They were human, or at least started off as such, and retained such humanity.

Still, she humbly bowed to the newcomer Goddess and then addressed her politely, “How are you, Ahn-Shune?”

The goddess furrowed her brow. "I am everything," she answered frankly. "Both supreme and abysmal at once." There was a tight smile. "We exist across time and space, so one might imagine that this sort of question lacks a simple response." She tilted her head. "How are you, Zarina Al-Nader? Of course," she admitted, eyes narrowing keenly and a light smile resting upon her lips, "I already know."

And then, all of sudden, they were falling with a massive dragon falling with them and sipping on some tea.

It smiled widely and its smile grew impossibly large. "What is your terminal velocity!!!???" it demanded. "Is it the same as my terminal velocity!!!???"

Nazih took the brief respite in-between the blocking the various balls being hurled towards Secto's roses. "If only I could do more to help, but it would take a miracle for my talents to assist here" he thought, "But still, worth a shot right?".

He motioned to Maura to get her attention, deftly slid over to her, and subtly communicated his intentions. With all of the ice escapades going on, it was easy to get a word in. The idea was to target as many of Afraval's roses as he could with his unique chemical decay. The aim was to weaken them, turning them as brittle as possible, while disguising the appearance of the wood to be perfectly healthy. It was going to take a lot of energy, the range alone daunting, and he had never attempted this magic from such a distance. Nazih had to do something though.

He gathered himself, took cover behind one of the titanic chunks of ice on the field, and begun spreading his energy out and rotting the enemy team's roses. Incredibly, whether it was due to the immense amount of magical energy being expelled on the field, or some other grace of luck, he found directing his magic much easier than anticipated. He managed to reach most of the enemy's roses, and spread his decay throughout their structures.

He gave Maura a signal from his location, and she understood the assignment. He would point out weakened roses, and whenever she had the ammo for it, she would rocket thumpers and clangers into the dead wood. Not having to worry about precise aim here, as even a glancing hit would completely splinter the rose, she made quick work of several roses. Afroval and Secto were tied for roses in play.

The rest of Secto's team had been busy at work sabotaging the Ice King's massive dome. They had chosen key points around the dome to sneakily spot-heat, weakening the overall structure through careful attrition. The grouped together, and let loose as much energy as they could in a final blast to bring down the whole dome, hoping to damage as many roses as possible in the cave-in. The entire arena shook, referees sharing apprehensive looks that the strong wires wouldn't hold, as the dome's roof started sloping downwards. Much like an avalanche, mist and snow spread out over the field.

After the dust settled, both teams realized that no roses remained on either side. Sectoxomactex, a team of underdog newbies, had managed to hold their own against the team of RAS monsters and come out alive.

Moli's carnival, a chaotic mass of loud noises and louder smells. Loudest yet was the dirt and grime that persisted throughout the establishment. The figurative walls Nazih built every morning to deal with the natural foulness that seemed to ooze from this planet's surface were usually enough. They might as well have been made out of sawdust now. Sometimes he wished he could sear all the germs away.

Nazih stood at his post, perfectly focused and alert; for the first few minutes anyways. You could say that guard duty was not Nazih's forte, and standing in one place this long, he started to feel his atoms begin to vibrate with pent up energy. The constant reminder of germs laying siege to him from every direction only hastened the impatience. His eyes started to wander, no longer searching for apparent threats, when they landed on a very welcome distraction: a carnival game. Not just any carnival game either, but a test of strength no less?

The premise was simple. Take a hammer, and slam it down. "Consider it done." Nazih thought confidently.

He strode up to the game, and got the operator's attention. The game's charge carried out an almost comical double-take; not only was this unit of a man towering over him like a monolith, but he was also a foreigner; with the looks of nobility at that. The surprise was only noticeable for a second. This operator was a seasoned employee of Moli's, and humiliating a noble was always a rare treat. He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

"Looks like you know how this game works sonny, why don't you give 'er a try?" The carnie said with a wink, his demeanor slowly taking on that of a cat who had finally found his prey.

Nodding, Nazih thanked the Dreamer for his gloves as he grasped the hammer's hilt and took stance for a swing; and swing he did. A clang as the hammer hit it's mark, loud enough to draw the attention of the surrounding patrons. The marker flew with ease up the meter, but started drastically losing steam the higher it climbed. Too drastically, thought Nazih. He smelled something fishy, and this time it wasn't his close proximity to a fish market.

"That's a 78!" shouted the carnie loud enough to play the crowd, "not bad at all! Almost a prize level!" He hooks his thumbs into his belt. "I'll tell yah what! That earns you a half-off on your next swing!"

Nazih raised one eyebrow, giving the him a look. He stepped a bit closer, a little close for comfort for Nazih, hopefully moreso for the operator. Leaning further in still, Nazih whispered into the his ear, "Pretty ballsy to try conning a Firrazene, but I'm willing to let it slide. How about I take the prize for 90, and we'll forget this ever happened. Otherwise, we'll both get to see how your little toy fares against my shiny friend here." Nazih accented the threat with a subtle gesture towards the hulking shield strapped to his back.

"You callin' me a liar, boy?" the carnie demanded, quietly. "Can't bear it that you don't quite have the muscles you thought you did?" He shook his head and stepped forward again. "I'll tell you what," he announced, turning on the spot to address the growing crowd of passersby, "We'll appoint a neutral arbiter and then you get another swing. You hit an eighty, I'll give you the prize for ninety, just to show I'm an honest merchant, 'spite your accusations. You miss it, then you kindly bugger off." He crossed his arms. "What say you? Or you worried you can't repeat what you're claiming?"

Nazih grinned, a plan slowly forming, and responded while facing the crowd, "Why, these are fair terms that only a fair man could offer. Of course, I can only accept!"

He wasn't going to ignore the carnival's invisible hand though. If one side was cheating, it's only fair that he got to join in. He snatched the hammer from the carnie and stepped up to the plate, taking care to face his back away from the watchful eye of the game's manager.

He raised the hammer high, higher over his head, so high in fact that it just barely came into contact with the shield on his back. Nazih held this position for a moment, putting on a show for the crowd of hyping himself up for the swing. In reality, he was carefully drawing as much of the heavy shield into the hammer as he could using binding. Once he was satisfied with the weight, Nazih swung the hammer down with as much force as he could muster.

Nazih struck hard, much harder than the previous attempt. His strike rang out like a seasoned blacksmith's final blow on his latest masterpiece. However, the little bauble seemed to be moving up no faster and no more forcefully than it had before.

The carnie was beaming, no longer the picture of a cat with it's prey but of a dog salivating at the presence of a perfectly rare steak. He had his cake, and was eating it too.

Nazih knew he wasn't smart enough to decipher the inner mechanisms of the game; he might as well have been attempting to dismantle a Sirrahi device. He knew what would work though. Always the ace up his sleeve, his specialty composting magic.

Still holding the hammer down on the plate, the meter starting to slow just as before, Nazih channeled a bit of his rot magic into the joints of the game. Creaks and groans echoed through the seasoned structure, sounds the operator was not familiar or comfortable with hearing. He was about to shove Nazih away when it all came splintering down. His plans and the game, both in shambles.

Nazih spun and egged the crowd on while flexing, "Looks like the game truly can't handle my strength, surely this warrants some sort of reward?" Glancing towards the carnie, mirroring the initial wink. He also placed the hammer over his shoulder, binding the metal he siphoned back into the shield. He hoped he wouldn't need the shield for anything too important before repairs could be made.

A handful of people in the crowd cheered and Nazih felt emboldened. Covered by the noise, the hammer game's operator addressed him. "Don't think I didn't feel you use magic." Publicly, he feigned a good-natured reaction, though. "Wow! You're gonna make me fix the whole thing!" He made a show of theatrically wiping his brow. "Guess that earns you a hundred!" People cheered louder. He lowered his voice and addressed the youth again. "You take your prize and get the fuck out of here. You stick around and it won't be good for you."

Nazih quickly grabbed a nice looking shirt; it might have been his imagination, but he sensed a trace amount of magic woven into the needlework. With that, he made his exit. He knew the risk he took there and was quick to get out of the public eye, as well as away from the daggers being thrown at him from the eyes of the carnie.