Pezzle

The Five Senses - Second Story Arc (Looking to add new members and fresh characters)

OOC is up roleplayerguild.com/topics/189518-the…

Preamble

The Five Senses is a roleplay that I’ve been doing for the past 5 and half years. Over the past month, my fellow roleplayers and I reached a milestone, we finished wrapping up the first arc of the Roleplay. Moving into the next Arc we are looking to recruit new members to join our small family of 5 roleplayers.

The pace of this RP is meant to be one that is meant to accommodate people who do this as a hobby. At the very most, we tend to post once every two weeks, usually sooner. Afterall, roleplaying should not be a job in my mind :) Any new members are welcome!

In preparation for the next arc, we built a discord that also acts as a wiki for the RP. It holds a plethora of information on world lore to help newcomers ease into the RP.

The second arc will focus on a new threat rising in the land and the search for an artifact of ancient powers.

Arc 1’s OOC can be found below.

roleplayerguild.com/topics/171535-the…

A new OOC will be created for Arc 2.

Saencila is a fantasy world, in which the five senses are considered holy and all magic powers depend on them. It takes place thousands of years after two related apocalyptic events which threatened to destroy the world. The aftermath of these events left behind a broken world. Most of the evil responsible for these events have been sealed away and long forgotten. There is only the faintest of references to the event in ancient myths throughout the world. The evil that remains in the world is now considered to be a mysterious phenomenon that naturally occurs for reasons unknown, in a region called The Broken Islands.

The story takes place during a war between two of the five great nations which make up the Land of Saencila. The nation that is losing the war, The Nation of Sight, currently has become desperate. In their desperation, they have reached out for help from The Cult of Insight, a fanatical group of religious followers who have fallen prey to the last remaining evil force active in Saencila. By turning to the cult for help, this nation has unwittingly opened a floodgate that will eventually lead to the start of another apocalypse.

On the hero’s side, we have the Pactmakers. A group of unrelated people who have unwittingly made a pact with an ancient Entity known as The Being on Many Names. As implied by his title, the Being goes by several names and titles. Of which includes: The Lord of Senses, Tricksters of Tricksters, and others.

On the other side, we have the Discarded. Ancient powers long locked away in an ancient prison. All save for the Discarded of Sight. The entity that the Cult of Insight worships. These entities seek their freedom and the destruction of the Being. Their existence has long been forgotten to time.

However a new faction seems to have awakened in this conflict. One that currently seems to be helping the Cult and the Discarded. The Crazed, magic wielders whose magic inevitably drives them insane. The Crazed have long been known to the world and have even started wars in the past to break free from their discrimination. Now though, things seem to be different. For these Crazed seem ordered and disciplined and do not leave a path of destruction in their wake. However, their wrath for the normal people of Saencila exists all the same.

So who are the main players here? Well you are. You are just an everyday normal or not normal person who has suddenly found themselves caught in the middle of a war of people and god-like powerful entities.

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There are two types of magic abilities in this rp.

Magic weilders are people with magic abilities that are related in some way to one of the five senses. Their abilities runs on a fuel of your choosing, unless they have crazed magic. The fuel for crazed magic is one’s sanity.

Adepts are the second magical abilities. These are people born with one of their senses enhanced in some unique way, like being able to smell different types of magic or night vision.

A character can be both an adept and a magic wilder.

The Discarded

The Discarded are powerful entities who have mostly been forgotten by the people of Saencila. Out of all the Discarded. only the Discarded of Sight is active today. The remaining four Discarded have long been sealed away.

There are five discarded in total. Each of The Discarded embodies and corrupts one of the five holy senses belonging to mankind. Sight, touch, smell, taste, and hearing. The corruption of the five senses is done normally in the form of torture. People who stay in the presence of The Discarded will frequently break down. It is in these moments of brokenness that peoples' minds become vulnerable to The Discarded. Whispered promises to end the suffering. These broken people will discard their afflicted sense and give it to The Discarded. The price for the end to their suffering? The loss of their mind, will, and humanity. Forever to be slaves to The Discarded.

The main Discarded in this Arc will be the Discarded of Sight. The information on other Discarded is subject to change.

Vi’daerus, the Omniscient<br>The Discarded of Sight

Title: The Root of Insight

Arguably one of the most dangerous of The Discarded, Vi’daerus is the only active Discarded in Saencila at this time. His presence causes many strange world altering effects. The sky becomes as dark as night during the day and turns shades of purple at night. The sun will begin to rise from the North, shining an eerie green, and will alternate from setting in the East to the West. Fire will emit black flames while strangely still giving off the same orange glow. Shadows, of the living, will lean towards sources of light, reaching yet never touching the source. The ripples in a pool of water will move towards the source of disturbance on the water's surface. Everyday objects, such as barrels, pots or forks, will change shades of color and slightly shift positions when nobody's looking. And some people will even foresee their deaths minutes before the event actually occurs.

Vi’daerus's effects on the surrounding world differs from other Discarded. Where the other Discarded's world altering presence is used as a way to torture people to the point of breaking and submission, Vi'daerus's world altering presence may be unsettling, but is actually quite livable. What makes Vi'daerus dangerous is not how he alters the world around him, but rather the hordes of faithful followers his presence creates, even among those who haven't submitted to Vi'daerus's will. Where other Discarded torture their victims, Vi'daerus will instead seduce them into submission with his "gift" of Insight.

Insight is a side effect of Vi'daerus's "omniscience". Vi'daerus sees all things covered in shadow. He sees what has been, what is and even glimpses of what has yet to come. His sight is flawed, however. Things touched by light are hidden to Vi'daerus. Vi'daerus cannot read messages written by hand. His foresight is also not always correct and becomes more flawed the further he looks into the distant future. Vi'daerus's sight on the world around him bleeds from his being and into those in his presence. It is these glimpses of knowledge that his followers have termed as Insight.

Under normal circumstances, Insight will first come as dreams to people, touched by Vi'daerus's essence, so long as they are sleeping in shadow. The visions these dreams grant are intoxicating and often in some way personal. It will show people visions of friends who have betrayed them as well as horrible dark secrets about the people a person trusts and loves. When a person wakes from their slumber, they are left with the strange yet undeniable feeling that what they saw in their dreams was true, and it did happen. Many people feel compelled to act on their dreams. Others are a touch more hesitant. All people, however, feel a loss of euphoria upon waking and are left with a silent itch for additional glimpses of Insight.

As a person is granted more glimpses of Insight they become addicted. They become more aware of Vi'daerus's presence gripping their soul. Initially unnerving, yet euphoric at the same time. The visions begin to occur while the person is awake, showing not only the past and present, but even glimpses of the future. These future glimpses show people a path toward obtaining their desires.

Before long a person's personal goals will begin to shift towards coinciding with Vi'daerus's goals. The spread of his essence and influence. They begin to worship Vi'daerus as their god. They do his bidding even if it puts their lives at risk. These people make up Vi'daerus's followers, The Cult of Insight. The Cult of Insight is a name commonly used by most people living in Saencila to refer to the cult. The cult members, however, prefer the name The Clan of Insight.

While the hierarchy in the cult is complex, it can often be broken into two groups. The bottom level is composed of the common followers, They are the people whose goals have yet to fully shift towards conforming to Vi'daerus's goals. Then there is the top level. The Sightless. People who have scratched out their eyes, discarding their sense of sight according to Vi'daerus's will.

The Sightless are the most dangerous of Vi'daerus's followers. They have allowed Vi'daerus's root to seep into their soul, and by doing so are forever transformed. Shortly after, discarding their sense of sight, The Sightless begin to grow a black protective treelike bark across their bodies. Slowly it replaces their skin until it covers their entire body. The Sightless, do not see light. Instead they see darkness and the wisps of life. They emit a field of shade that obscures light like a thin veil. They are also capable of seeing glimpses of Insight whenever they want, and can gift the Insight to people so long as the person is willing. Their limbs are living plant mass that can grow at will and attack others from afar. Out of all their abilities, their most important use for Vi'daerus is their ability to spread his essence.

There are two reasons why Vi'daerus is arguably the most dangerous Discarded. The first reason is his cult of devoted followers. The second is his ability to spread his range of influence beyond his core. Vi'daerus's Sightless are capable of planting seeds which spreads Vi'daerus's essence beyond his current location. All Sightless have the ability to become a seed of Insight, although there are requirements that must be met for a successful see to grow. If allowed to grow, the seed will plant its roots into the land and spread Vi'daerus's world altering essence.

Ta’Nigarie, the Apathetic <br>The Discarded of Touch

Title: Mother of Unbirth

When within Ta’Nigarie’s proximity, the natural properties of the world no longer act as they should. Brushing one’s hand through water feels like moving one’s hand through tiny oily metal beads instead of its natural wet liquid feeling. Wood becomes claylike. Soft and Malleable to the touch, conforming to the shape whatever is touching it, reform back to its original shape when left alone. Wind becomes hot and feels like the prickling of a thousand needle tips against one’s bare skin. The ground becomes springy. Mud like quicksand. Stone turns flaky and brittle. Metal acts like glass while glass acts like metal. Fire cold to the touch yet still able to burn that which it touches. And the weather goes back and forth between sweltering heat and freezing cold within minutes. One cannot be too careful within Ta’Nigarie’s presence, for her very being alters the world.

Ta’Nigarie’s presence does more than alter the world. Her presence also affects the mind and body. When under Ta’Nigarie’s influence, a person’s positive emotions are dampened while the negative emotions are amplified. Mother’s become inattentive, fathers turn abusive, and children act delinquent. In addition to the mind altering effects is the unfading pain. Ta’Nigarie’s presence amplifies any pain that a person feels. Additionally her presence induces pain on the joints and muscles of anybody who moves. All pain felt in Ta’Nigarie’s presence lingers even after the body fully heals. And due to the world altering properties of Ta’Nigarie’s presence, injury to even the most careful of people is not uncommon.

The dampening on a person’s mind increases if a person is trying to escape Ta’Nigarie’s influence. It dulls the mind causing people to forget they are trying escape. It further emphasizes the person’s pain in hopes of breaking the person to the point of collapse. Escape is possible but requires a struggle. Those who stay eventually break to the pain discarding their sense of touch and any ability to feel to their tormentor, Ta’Nigarie. In doing so, they give birth to one of Ta’Nigarie’s “children”, The Unbirth.

The moment a person submits to Ta’Nigarie, that person is compelled to seek out her core, a mass of blue pulsing flesh. Once at her core, Ta’Nigarie’s mass of flesh will devour the ones who submitted to her will, and spit out a child sized cocoon of ice cold blue flesh. It’s from these cocoons that The Unbirth emerges. Gender-less, child sized, monstrosities that sap the heat from everything around them.

The Unbirth share facial similarities with the people who gave birth to them. Their skin is blue and taunt with pulsing blood vessels extruding from the skin. Their hands and fingers are long and bony with an iron strong grip to boot. Their claws and teeth are razor sharp and ideal for slicing through flesh. Their necks protrude below their shoulder and from their chest creating a V shaped indentation from shoulder to shoulder. Their heads are rotated upside-down. Hair dangling from their scalps. Faces gaunt. Eyes enlarged with oval shaped irises. Pupils the color of red.

Ol’Falkaer, the Foul<br>The Discarded of Smell

Title: Bringer of Pestilence

The most obvious indicator of being in Ol’Falkaer’s presence is the smell. His presence taints normally pleasant fragrances into smelling off while already horrible smells become more pungent and overwhelming. Flowers will smell slightly foul. Soaps and perfumes will smell nauseating. Fresh Fruits overripe, and cooked meats are a touch rotten or sour. Although this may seem tolerable, truth the stink is constant and nausea inducing. It is not uncommon to lose one’s breakfast when encountering Ol’Falkaer’s stink for the first time. That said, the smell is the least of one’s worries when shrouded in Ol’Falkaer’s essence.

The smell is just the immediate effect caused by Ol’Falkaer’s presence. Shortly thereafter comes The Taint. The Taint affects all living and nonliving things ensnared in Ol’Falkaer’s grip, causing the spread of grime, rot and disease. The grime comes first, quickly covering everything. Bathing becomes pointless and cleaning an impossibility. The rot shortly follows, causing fresh foods to spoil and fabrics to fade and decay. Fresh food and non-ragged clothing becomes a rare community hoarded by the rich and inaccessible to the poor. Last, comes the outbreak of disease that weakens those inflicted.

All who stay too long in Ol’Falkaer’s presence eventually catch The Taint. Its symptoms are forever in flux. An infected person may suffer from fever one moment, to fits of coughing, to chills, to sore muscles and then back to a fever again all within 10 minutes. The Taint does not kill, at least not directly, for the dead are of no use to Ol’Falkaer. The dead cannot give themselves to him and discard their sense of smell. The purpose of The Taint is to break people down and make them too weak to escape Ol’Falkaer’s influence. Those who break before Ol’Falkaer’s will, discard their sense of smell and become one of The Tainted.

The Tainted are those who have completely succumbed to The Tainted. On first appearance, those who have succumbed to Ol’Falkaer’s will seem no different than the average person who has no choice but to live among the grime and filth brought by Ol’Falkaer’s presence. After a closer look, however, one might notice a few things off. For one, they no longer care about cleanliness. Caked in filth and grime, wearing only what can barely even be considered rags for clothes, The Tainted seem to relish in filth. Their teeth are rotten brown with gums that bleed a blackish red goop. Their hair is unkempt and oily. Their nails grow long and yellow, looking chipped at the ends. The real tell though is their smell. The smell of rot and death.

The Tainted are hot to the touch. Forever feverish, forever sickly. They are Ol’Falkaer’s tools. Contaminators who help spread The Taint. By succumbing to Ol’Falkaer’s will, they have been internally transformed forever. The Tainted are no longer bound by what one would consider normal joint movement. Their joints are flexible, reversible, and will rotate however The Tainted desires. When running, The Tainted will run on all fours conforming their joints to work similar to a canine’s. This allows them to run at greater speeds and jump greater distances.

Their irregular movements makes combat between them unpredictable and dangerous. When bleeding, they bleed a blackish red goop which is corrupted by The Taint. If the blood gets on the skin, it will seep into the bloodstream and act as a beacon. This allows the Tainted to track a person from miles away. They’ll track people relentlessly until The Taint is purged from a person’s system or until The Tainted succeed in hunting their prey down and killing them.

Gu’Sturrael, the Insatiable<br>The Discarded of Taste

Title: Purveyor of Hunger

Gu’Sturrael's presence distorts the taste of all things within his vicinity. All foods and drinks become bland, extremely bitter, and near impossible to swallow without wanting to vomit. Non Food items such as dirt, rotten meat, and human waste suddenly become more edible by comparison. As one might imagine, cities inflicted with Gu’Sturrael's presence quickly find their populations famished, dehydrated and malnourished, as many people find it very difficult to swallow or drink the necessary substance and fluid to maintain bodily functions.

Unlike most other Discarded, Gu’Sturrael does not put in much of an effort to prevent people, who have been in his presence, from running away. Fact is he does not need to stop them. Simply being within his presence implants a seed of his essence into a person's mind. With the seed of his essence implanted, running away from Gu’Sturrael does not grant one immediate relief from his influence on taste. The effects will last for three days at least. More than long enough to break a person down, especially if they are already famished.

Those who begin to break from the hunger and thirst, open their minds to Gu’Sturrael's sweet whispers promising release. "Discard your taste," he whispers, "and it will all go away. Give your taste to me, and I'll serve you the entire world as your plate." Submitting to the whispers binds a person forever to Gu’Sturrael's essence and allows the seed he implanted to being its growth.

Submitting to Gu’Sturrael's will begins a gradual transformation into one of Gu’Sturrael's minions; monstrosities known as The Famished. Initially everything seems normal with two exceptions. The first of which, is the insatiable feeling of hunger. The second of course is the lack of taste. The hunger is manageable at first and can be satisfied with six meals a day. Gradually, as the hunger grows, The Famish find themselves needing to eat more and more often.

Before long, The Famished will start eating things that one would not normally eat. They will grab chunks of dirt off the ground and stuff it into their mouths. They will devour spoiled milk, rotten meat, cockroaches, and even living rats. The eat nonstop, tears pouring from their eyes, crying happily about how good what they are eating tastes despite their inability to even sense taste. Cries such as "Sooo good... sooo good..." will often be heard in-between mouthfuls of trash and the joyful sobs of The Famished.

Before too long, The Famished begin the next stage of their transformation. Their arms, jaws, hands and fingers begin to elongate. Their fingernails and teeth fall out and are replaced by claws and razor sharp teeth. Their backs become hunched, their saliva slightly acidic. Any remaining body fat remaining on The Famished is burned away to nothing, leaving only skin and bone. It is during this transformation The Famished become far more dangerous. They start biting chunks out of wood, stone, clay pots and, before long, people. People quickly become their favorite meal, particularly people who show little signs of succumbing to Gu’Sturrael's will.

Gu’Sturrael likes to keep his full-fledged Famished close at hand, hidden and away from the normal populace in order to keep the knowledge of what becomes of those who submit to a minimum. He will only let a few loose at a time, often at night, to do his bidding. The Famished who have yet to undergo their transformation he allows to wander the streets of whatever town or city he is currently inhabiting. They are used as his "town criers", so to speak, often putting on displays and shows of what submission to Gu’Sturrael's will has to offer.

Au’Diurale, the Harrowing<br>The Discarded of Hearing

Title: Reaper of Anguish

Out of all of The Discarded Au’Diurale is by far the cruelest. She revels in the torturing and suffering of the unfortunate people she ensnares in her essence. Her very presence creates a high pitched painful ringing in the ears, which will erratically change frequency making it impossible for people to get used to it and cast aside as white noise. The ringing cannot be ignored. Covering one's ears will only block out the ringing slightly but not enough to block out the pain. Earplugs made of wax have been shown to block out the majority of the pain, but they do not block out the sound.

Finding sleep in her area of effect is near impossible. Whenever someone is on the verge of drifting off, the ringing will bore into a person’s mind quickly waking him/her. People suffering from her presence for a few days or less, will quickly become irritable and violent. Staying for longer than a few days often causes people, who have yet to submit to her will, to inflict bodily harm in hopes that the new pain will overcome the pain caused by the constant ringing. Many will bang their head against nearby walls, claw at their ears, break their fingers, tear off their nails, or worse. Despite their efforts, inflicting bodily harm only makes the ringing worst.

People trapped in Au’Diurale's presence find leaving or even committing suicide to escape near impossible. As whenever someone tries to do one of the two in order to escape, the ringing becomes so unbearably painful that it will often cause loss of balance. Only those who have help, those who have only been in Au’Diurale's presence for a short time, those with wax earplugs or those with extremely strong will are capable of escape/suicide.

The constant ringing isn't the only effect of Au’Diurale's presence. Every sound heard within her field of affect becomes twisted and wrong. The singing of birds becomes an ear piercing screech. The rubbing of wood against wood sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Music turns to noise and even the soft sound of footsteps becomes a reverberating thud. Oddly enough the sound of one's voice remains unchanged, with the exception of the erratically rhythmed reverse echoes of the speaker's voice, which begins a half second before the speaker begins to speak. All of it is very disorienting and gives an immense sense of wrongness. It's enough to give chills to even the bravest of people.

Those who break and discard their hearing before Au’Diurale's will, must do so by piercing their ear drums, one by one, with a metal nail. Doing so submits one to Au’Diurale and forever opens their mind to her essence. These people become a part of her army of servants known as the Silent Ones. The Silent Ones sole purpose is to obey her every command and unleash torture and anguish upon those who have yet to submit. Forever are they deaf to cries of mercy to those they bring harm. They are her voiceless soldiers, her silent assassins, her quiet executioners. They say there is a way to tell if someone has submitted to the will of Au’Diurale. Every sound that person makes can be seen with the naked eye, but never can those sounds be heard.

The Five Senses

-Collab Between Pezz570, 13org-

Viktor Frost
Karina
Tayla

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Hider

High General Viktor Frost sat alone in his study, reading through reports. A knock came from his door.

"Come in.” Viktor said.

The door opened. The girl entered. Karina Frost. His daughter.

Viktor frowned. He had sent for the girl hours ago.

Viktor adjusted his spectacles and turned his gaze back down towards the reports.

"Soldier.” He said while reading through the pages before him.

Karina stood still for a moment after her father allowed to meet him. Even though the years of military education and discipline had made the military etiquette almost a second nature to Karina, the recent events, especially the words from the Being had definitely impacted her, which was evident by her voice, which were colder than usual and her eyes, which were sharper and more dangerous than ever.

"I assume you have read my reports, General Frost." Karina said, sitting down after presenting herself to her superior.

Viktor raised his eyebrow at the comment, but not his gaze.

Due to the sensitive contents of her reports, Karina not only had sealed the envelope and insisted to have it taken directly to the General, but she had also used a cipher to encode her report, one only the general would know, related to one of the books her mother wrote about her studies when she was still alive.

While it was a bit strange at first to see how cautious Karina was being about her report, as soon as the General started reading it, he would immediately realize that all the measures she took were more than justified.

Not only parts of the story were hard to believe, such as the 'Being' and the 'Pact' he made, 'Vi'dareus' and the creatures that called themselves 'gods', but the method the cult seemed to have to apparently 'produce' shadow metal were all incredibly dangerous information.

"Your officials weren't the only ones wrong about the cult and the gravity of this situation." Karina said as she silently waited for the General's reply, her eyes cautiously observing every reaction and move.

Viktor sighed softly. The girl’s report had been full of things that were hard to believe. While yes, some of her reporting had proved factual and deeply concerning, there were other parts of the report that were much more difficult to swallow.

Then there was the worst part of the report. The part that spoke heresy. That the Lord of Senses was not a god. That the Lord of Senses made malicious pacts with people and stole their legacies, whatever that meant.

And even if all she wrote were true, this was not something he could act on. He could not take this information to the Emperor and expect to be taken seriously. Senses no! While yes the Cult’s display of power was clearly a concern, now was not the time to shift course.

Viktor was just glad that she had the sense to put that information in a cipher! If word ever got out that his daughter was a heretic. Senses, that would be the end of her.

"The danger of the cult is clear,-” Viktor said while taking notes in one of his reports. He spoke in a firm voice, making it clear that he had no intention of speaking any more on the subject. "-but now is not the-”

Viktor’s voice trailed off. He noticed a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. Viktor looked up from his reports. The girl had a familiar floating next to her.

Breathing out, Viktor pursed his lips into a thin line.

"You got a familiar.” He said flatly. The disapproval plain in his voice.

He had noticed this familiar before, after the girl had taken the Eastern gate. He hadn’t realized at the time that the familiar had been with her.

Viktor didn’t dislike familiars per se. He saw them for what they were, a useful tool. What he disapproved of was the new fad of adopting a familiar as a pet. The kind of familiar that the one beside Karina so plainly was.

Karina knew exactly how dangerous all the information on her report was should it leaked or became public. Hence why she decided to entrust it to the one person she trusted most... Her father, General Frost.

It was true that the contents of her report were honestly... very hard to take seriously, but she could only hope that her father would believe her words.

After all, she had never lied to him nor on an official report before.

The moment Viktor started speaking, Karina's attention was completely focused on him. He had to believe her. She did not have any reason to lie, especially about such sensitive matter.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to start talking about it, he noticed Akai peeking at him from behind Karina. Karina had been very clear when she asked for Akai to behave herself, which, surprisingly enough, she was doing so. Be it due to her previous request or maybe because she was intimidated by the General.

Akai's behaved and polite posture soon disappeared though, the moment the General displayed his disapproval, after noticing her.

"Oh wow... And here was I thinking that you were the cold one! Well... At least we know that he is definitely your father..." Akai said to Karina, clearly letting the General know that the feeling of disapproval he displayed upon meeting her was mutual.

Viktor eyed the familiar. His expression unmoving.

"It was a gift. Besides, Akai helped me a lot, when even your high officials couldn't." Karina said her sharp words clearly referring to how the other high officials and even Viktor himself refused to believe her.

Akai, who was staring at Viktor with a clearly annoyed expression, immediately turned to Karina, shocked at first by the fact that Karina was actually defending her and soon after letting out a smug smirk as she looked at Karina.

"Shut up Akai, not now." Karina said, without even looking at Akai, since she already knew exactly the type of expression she was doing.

Akai simply raised her hands in silence, with a clearly satisfied expression, knowing that she had 'won' as Karina continued.

"There are no lies or half-told truths in my report. Now you know well how grave the situation is. It is not something we can ignore anymore. The military needs to reassess it's priorities. We need to start preparing ourselves..." Karina said with an extremely serious expression and tone.

"The military’s priorities are whatever the Emperor pleases.” Viktor said sternly.

The girl was still young. He had to keep reminding himself of that. She might be a clever one but she still had much to learn.

Viktor eyed Akai. "Familiar. You breathe a word of anything we are about to say and I will see to your destruction personally.” Viktor said coolly. "Believe me, you would not be the first familiar I’ve done away with.”

He looked back to Karina. "The topic we are about to discuss is highly sensitive in nature. News that is still on its way to the Emperor’s ear. The Emperor's Sister, Queen of the Nation of Sight, is dead. Murdered by the King. They sent her head to us in a bag.

"Knowing the Emperor, he will not take this lightly. Once he learns of the matter he is going to want me to conduct a full assault on the capital. It is going to take everything in my power to convince him that we should not abandon our post and current tactic of blockading the Nation of Sight’s access to food supplies from the Nation of Taste.

"I suspect that I might be able to stall his decision, but sooner or later, we are going to be forced to march. I cannot afford any distractions. The moment he starts to doubt my loyalty to the Empire will be the moment he assigns a new High General to the post.”

Viktor looked Karina in her eyes. "This was never a question of trust. I always have a proper amount of trust in the reports from my soldiers, as any good High General should. The issue at hand is a matter of hierarchy. A single report like yours, is not enough to convince our Emperor to change priorities. Your report is the kind that would get us in trouble. The kind of report that could get you hanged.”

The High General breathed out. Their Emperor was highly religious. Talk of other gods and heresy was dangerous. He had seen such talk lead to the deaths of others in his career. He would not have the girl follow those men to the grave.

The smirk on Akai's expression after she heard Karina's reply wouldn't last much though.

The moment the General's eyes met Akai's once again, Akai immediately felt a shiver run through her spine. The coldness of his eyes was only matched by the sharpness of his words as he threatened to destroy her, should Akai say anything about that conversation to anyone. Promptly, Akai made sure to go back to behind Karina again, in silence. She didn't seem to be afraid to tease and mock him before, but after hearing his words, Akai definitely didn't want to test him to see if he was bluffing or not.

"Our duty is not to serve the emperor, General Frost! Our duty is to serve and protect the future of our nation and our people!" Karina said, clearly enraged as she heard her father's words about the military's priorities being the Emperor's priorities.

The moment she heard the General's words about the Emperor's sister being murdered, Karina felt her blood being drained from her face. That was the worst case possible. The Emperor most definitely wouldn't stay quiet about that.

"What?! The last thing we need at this moment is an enraged Emperor moving the military solely based on impulses and his own feelings, going over and ignoring the strategic decisions from the military!" Karina said.

"Normally I would agree that this act of offense against our nation warrants a swift answer... But there are much more serious matters in our hands right now... And much better ways to deal with the murder of the queen than to simply use brute force." Karina continued.

"We need to manage and preserve our forces and resources to deal with one threat at a time. We cannot deal with an all-out war, the threat of the cult and the so called 'gods' at the same time! Our best bet is to continue to slowly strangle the Nation of Sight by continuing the blockade while we deal with the cult and their ‘gods’." she said, as the General, mentioned that they would sooner or later be forced to march.

"My report might be hard to believe and even dangerous… But you know as much as I do that everything I wrote is true, father. I never lied on an official report before and I have no reason to do so now." Karina said. The fact that she had called him that instead of using his title only made her words sound even more serious.

"The things I heard, saw and experienced in that town, about the cult and the so called 'gods'... What they stole from me... It changes everything. We cannot simply feign ignorance and hope our problems will get solved by themselves if we continue doing what we are doing! Even though the rest of the world isn't ready to hear the truth, even if our ‘emperor’ refuses to open his eyes to the truth, both for the future of the military and our nation, we will sooner or later have to step up and make a choice..." Karina said, looking Viktor directly in his eyes.

"And if we do not, I can assure you we will all end up being mere pawns, tools for either a self-entitled, so called 'god' who doesn't care if we live or die or slaves, mindless servants to the cult..." Karina finished as she looked deep within the general's eyes, waiting for his reply.

Viktor removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

The girl was trouble. Her words were laced with treason. She lived in a world that she idealized, while the truth of the matter was that the military did not follow him. They followed the hand that paid them.

He lowered his hand and looked at the girl, his daughter. It was worse than he thought. The girl truly did believe everything in her report. While he meant what he said about having a healthy amount of trust in her report, he also had to have a healthy amount of skepticism about her assessment of her experiences in Shimmertown.

People told stories all the time about their experiences and came to conclusions that were not always warranted. He had to approach the girl's report carefully. He could not just take it word for word.

Viktor met Karina’s gaze. "You are my lieutenant, soldier. And I'm your High General. So long as we remain that way, I cannot be your father, and you cannot be my daughter.” He reminded her. "You will either have to follow my lead, or you will step down from your post. Willingly, or at my command.”

He rose from his seat to signal that he would hear no more on the matter.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked to her and said, "Is that clear Soldier?”

He gave the girl a hard look. The kind of look that said that she had better give him an affirmation.

Karina could see it in his eyes... In the end, he was just like the rest of his high-ranking officials. Just like them, her father didn't trust her. He didn't trust her skills or her knowledge, even though she had already proved him wrong many times...

Still... If it was what it took for them to finally recognize her, she would prove them all wrong. Again and again, no matter how many times it was necessary.

She would regain that which was stolen from her and bring the so-called 'gods' to their knees...

The Emperor... The Military... The Nation and even her own Father... They would learn to recognize her value… Even if they only did so once they finally lost her loyalty.

As the general got up, delivering his 'ultimatum', he could clearly feel the cold air around Karina, cold enough to burn one's skin should they approach her too much.

"Yes. Very well, General Frost." Karina replied as she stood up.

"With all due respect, General..." she said, as she gave a step forward.

"As soon as I die, any traces of my existence in this world will be erased. Stolen by a so called 'god'..." Karina said, looking straight towards Viktor's eyes as she spoke.

"If my actions, my accomplishments... Or even my crimes won't matter in the end, there is not much other than my own pride keeping me in the military, General Frost... You have already lost a daughter. You should value what you still have, lest you lose a competent Lieutenant as well." Karina finished, her eyes as cold and sharp as the shards of ice being crushed beneath her feet as she shifted her posture, standing upright in an 'at attention' posture.

Despite how fierce Karina was, the stare Karina had right now was unlike any other Viktor had ever seen before. It became immediately clear that she wouldn't consider him her father anymore. He had indeed 'lost' a daughter.

"Your next orders, General Frost." Karina asked, her posture as impeccable as always, despite the cold wind around her and her cold stare.

Viktor frowned. This was not the first time he had given this speech to the girl. She knew that his position required him not to show favoritism. She knew what that meant for their relationship. Viktor had only meant to remind her of their station and their unspoken rule of keeping professional titles. Yet, this time his reminder had pushed her too far.

For a long while, Viktor said nothing.

"I’m sorry that you feel that way.” He said at last. His voice had turned soft and steady.

Breathing out, Viktor turned to face the window. It was time that he got to the matter that had been on his mind when he had called for the girl.

"Your prisoner is not eating.” He said. "If she doesn’t start eating soon, then I mean to start allocating our time and resources to people who still wish to live.”

Something had frazzled the girl. Something truly had spooked her.

"You are dismissed, soldier.” He said. "Just remember, our talks may be tough… our talks may be hard… but the door to my office,-” Viktor turned and met the girl’s gaze. "-that door remains open.”

Karina's expression was cold and emotionless, unchanged despite the general's words. As much as he deemed her own feelings irrelevant to their 'duty', she did his.

"Yes, General. I will make it sure that the prisoner will cooperate with us." Karina said, saluting the general, still at ready, waiting for the general to give her permission to leave.

As soon as he did so, Karina merely saluted him once more, before turning away and leaving his office, without expressing a single reaction to the last words he said.

Viktor watched his daughter leave. The girl hadn’t even closed the door to his office. Breathing out, he gently closed the door himself and calmly took at seat at his desk.

Shuffling through his reports he found the one the girl had written and read through it for the seventeenth time. When he finished, he sighed and put the report back down on his desk.
What am I to do with this? He thought to himself.

Whatever he did, it would need other sources of confirmation besides the girl, and it would all need to be done carefully.

---

Hider

As Karina made her way to where Tayla was being kept prisoner, it was clear to anyone in the general vicinity that she was in a terrible mood. If not for her cold expression and the way she was walking, it was due to the extremely cold air surrounding her and the sound of ice being formed and crushed beneath her boots as she walked, leaving a trail of sharp ice fragments in the ground. Despite the fact that she was a rather petite woman when compared to the other soldiers, most of them knew well to keep as far away from her as possible when she was in such a state.

With a single stare and a hand movement, Karina ordered the soldiers who were tasked of guarding the prisoners to open Tayla's cell so she could enter.

Without a word, Karina grabbed the chair from one of the guards outside, brought inside the cell and sat down, looking at Tayla. Tayla would immediately know that Karina was extremely irritated. At first, it was uncertain if Karina would direct her anger at Tayla or not, but it became evident by her next words that it wasn't the case.

"I see you haven't made a choice yet, Tayla." Karina said as she watched Tayla's reaction, waiting for an answer.

Tayla had been sleeping when the door to her cell opened. Sleeping was pretty much the only thing Tayla did these days. That, and staring at the men who walked by.

A week ago, Tayla might have wondered why she was still alive. She might have paced her prison like a wild animal. Shouting, screaming and begging to be released. It was like being that little girl all over again. Helpless, scared and at the mercy of another.

While Tayla found that same panic to still be there, she found that in the week since Smit’s death, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. All her anger, all her pride, everything she had accomplished since joining the clan… it all felt hollow.

Laying on a poor excuse for a cot, Tayla lazily opened a single eye to see what had caused the disturbance. Was that… the woman?

Tayla furrowed her brow in confusion and groggily sat up in her cot. Her lack of food made the gesture feel weak. Her stomach growled in protest of the motion and her brain demanded that she save her energy for food. Instead of listening to her body, Tayla blatantly refused to acknowledge its needs. None of it mattered. None of it ever did.

Tayla rubbed her eyes as the woman, who she now knew to be Karina Frost, went on about something regarding making a choice.

"It’s… you...” She said, only half awake.

To be honest she didn’t even follow what the woman was talking about. Her mind was dull from refusing food, she had only just woken, she half expected the woman to be some hunger induced hallucination. Yet when Karina remained and kept talking, it became clear to Tayla that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her

Tayla sat up a little straighter. Her instinctive hatred of the woman snapped her awake.

"You…” She said again. This time with a fire in her voice. Karina Frost. The woman who kill Smit.

She reached for her magical abilities, but found none. That’s right… The military had been regularly drugging her with taste deterrents. Tayla hadn’t been able to taste a thing for a week.

Gritting her teeth, she took in the woman. Karina seemed angry. Terrifyingly angry. Good! Perhaps she need not starve herself much longer. Perhaps she could have Little Miss Princess Karina finish off Tayla with a little goading. Perhaps she could..

‘Tayla-’ Smit had said to her, as he lay there dying. ‘-you’ll kill yourself…’

The fight in her eyes suddenly vanished. Tayla deflated.

"What do you want?” She said in a defeated manner. Her gaze now staring down at her feet.

Karina had no time for Tayla's tantrums or her tendency to close her eyes and simply push the blame for her own choices into someone else.

"Your time is running out, Tayla. You need to make a choice." Karina said.

"You can either keep blaming the entire world for your own mistakes and decisions, refusing to accept them as your own and throwing childish tantrums or you can learn with your mistakes, rise up and do something to atone for your errors. Both for yourself and the ones who have suffered for what you have done" Karina continued, her voice as cold, harsh and sharp as her eyes.

"Your precious cult has done nothing but spread misery, destruction, corruption and death wherever it went. Pathetic and greedy fools who let themselves be used and corrupted by Vi'dareus, a vile, disgusting creature that calls itself a 'god'." Karina said, the hatred in her voice clear as she said the name of that supposed 'god'.

Even though the 'being of many names' had previously said that saying it's name would invoke it's attention, Karina still did so. Out of hatred and spite. An open challenge to those so called 'gods'. Not just the being, not just Vi'dareus, but any and all of them who dared to think that humans were theirs to toy with.

"And you... You were used by them. Just like many others who were forced to kill their own loved ones, driven mad by the corruption of the sightless and the seed..." Karina continued, looking directly into Tayla's eyes as she did so.

"Just like I was used by the 'Being of Many Names'... Who stole something precious from me..." Karina said in a lower tone, almost as if she was saying to herself, her voice filled with anger and hatred.

"But unlike all the other victims from the cult, you were not mad nor were you being controlled or brainwashed... You did so out of your own will... And you knew well what the cult was doing, didn't you?" Karina asked, looking deep within Tayla's eyes.

"What will you do, Tayla? It's time for you to choose. You had enough time to reflect upon your actions and what is going on around you. Hate me all you want, but you cannot ignore the fact that it was your own actions, your own mistakes that killed your companion." Karina said, carefully watching Tayla's reactions.

Tayla gave Karina a sidelong glance. The name Vi'dareus had brought a strange sensation to Tayla and triggered an itch at the back of her neck. Tayla frowned and returned to her gaze to her feet.

Everytime Karina and Tayla talked, the woman always asked her to make a choice. To join her. To follow her path as if she were a lost soul with nothing to live for. It irritated her. Angered her even. But today, Tayla could not find that anger. Today, Tayla was a lost soul.

Karina was right about something though, Tayla had been doing a lot of thinking lately

"You know, I think my relationship with Smit was the closest thing I’ve had to having a friend.” She said. "He had feelings for me, I think. I always knew he felt that way about me, I just turned a blind eye.”

Tayla hesitated as a pain swelled in her chest. The wound was still fresh. It was hard to even talk about Smit.
"I didn’t want that kind of relationship with him.” She said whispered. "I just… I just wanted things to stay as they were…”

Tayla took a deep breath and exhaled. She should have told him how she felt. She should have told him not to bother. Maybe then he would have left her alone and he would have still been alive.

She curled her hands into fists and looked at Karina. While Karina had indeed killed Smit, Tayla had killed him just as surely.

"Why am I still alive, princess?” She said in a defeated tone.

Despite Karina's apparent anger, she still heard Tayla in silence, paying attention to her words. For the first time, Tayla wasn't being aggressive or confronting Karina. So instead of dismissing Tayla's words as nothing important, this time Karina heard quietly.

Karina heard about Tayla's relationship with Smit, about how he was the closest thing she had to a friend... And about how she wasn't able to make a decision... Even regarding the type of relationship she wanted with Smit.

"Even then, you were not able to make a decision, were you, Tayla? To tell Smit how you felt, what you wanted..." Karina asked, her icy eyes looking deep within Tayla's soul.

"In the end, you did not make a decision. You never did. This deep ingrained doubt was what made you take the path you took in your life, it was what made you hesitate on multiple occasions, it was why you joined the cult, since they made all the choices for you... And in the end, it was what caused Smit to die." Karina said. Her words were harsh, but those were words Tayla needed to hear.

Tayla shot Karina a glare.

"You ask me why you are alive, Tayla? You would have died, but Smit made a decision when you couldn't. He gave up his own life, so you could continue with yours. Despite all the mistakes you made, despite the choices you took, he continued by your side." Karina said, as she sighed and looked away for a moment.

Tayla deflated at that and looked back at her feet.

Karina really wasn't in the right mind to give life advice to someone else... Especially in the state her own life was right now... But Karina still felt that if she gave up on Tayla at the moment, Tayla would definitely break.

"Even though I would like to have a loyal, competent subordinate, in the end, the only one who can make this choice is yourself. Whether you join me against the cult and the gods or if you decide to leave all this behind and live your life... The only one that can decide what you will do is yourself." Karina said.

Tayla couldn’t help but laugh dryly.

"Live my life?” She said, repeating Karina’s words. "You and I both know that your people will never allow for that. My clansmen are slaughtered just for entering your country. And the other clansmen who were captured with me… well… I noticed that quite a few of them have disappeared in the night.”

"Clansmen...?" Karina replied, anger flaring up in her eyes once again as she heard those words.

"Do you still think the cult is your 'clan'? That they cared about you or Smit? Please, don't make me laugh. They were using you both." Karina said.

"Clan or cult… Whether they were using me or not... The people I worked with… people I spent years of my life with… they were still my clan… the closest thing I had to family… believe it or not, but those people were no different from me. Many of them too were just looking for a place to call home.”

"Cooperate with us, Tayla. At least for now and then you will be able to regain your freedom. Show us that we can trust you. Trust you to not go back to the cult, that we can trust you are able to keep yourself from spreading classified information. Then you will be free once again.” Karina said, looking to Tayla with a harsh, cold expression.

"Corporate with you and be your loyal subordinate, you mean?” Tayla sighed and shook her head. "I’ve done that… and look where it got me.” Tayla waved her hand to the cell she was in. "I think I’m done doing that… at least for now.

"Besides,-” Tayla looked to the soldiers guarding her. "I’ve seen the way they look at me. They would never accept me. More likely than not to stab me in the back even.”

She turned her gaze back to Karina. "You know what I think?” She asked. "I think that the only reason I haven’t disappeared is because of the person who captured me and who she is”

She looked to Karina. "They told me who you are, Karina Frost. Must be nice to have a man as powerful as The Mirage as your father.”

There was no hostility in her words, they were just spoken in a matter of factly.

The moment Tayla mentioned Karina's father, it seemed like all semblance of patience that Karina was able to keep until now simply evaporated. Despite the fact that Tayla didn't have any hostility while saying those words, it seemed like the previous provocations, coupled with the nerve she struck when she talked about Karina's father finally drove Karina over the edge. The cold air that had slowly calmed down since she arrived at the cell became stronger once again as she looked directly to Tayla's eyes with a hostile expression.

"Are you in a hurry to die, prisoner? Provoking the only one who thinks you might be useful isn't a good choice if you want to stay alive." Karina said, her tone and her eyes making it clear that her threats weren't mere bluffs.

"Ever since I entered the military, I was alone. In the military, I always had a general, but I never had a father. Everything I am nowadays, everything I have conquered is due to my own efforts, my own training and skill. All those who thought they could challenge me were quickly put in their places. All those who doubted my words or my skills were quickly proved wrong. Again and again." Karina said her face was close enough to Tayla that the cold air swirling around her was stinging her skin.

"And you... Are just another one like them. Another one who failed to surpass me and instead of accepting my skills and understanding that you need to get better... You just chose the easy way of blaming everything that happened in something else other than your own incompetence!" Karina finished, looking at Tayla for a moment before she finally gave a step back.

Tayla couldn’t help but shiver from the chill. Her skin nearly turned blue at its touch. Yet despite the cold’s sting, Tayla weakly chuckled. The stoic princess Karina was stoic no more. Tayla had hit a nerve.

"And here I thought I was the one who was quick to anger.” Tayla said in a tired voice. "It seems neither of us are ourselves today.”

Slowly, she lay back on her cot and stared up at the ceiling.

"What did the Trickster of Tricksters take from you? The clan-” Tayla hesitated and glanced at Karina. "-cult says he steals people’s names.”

Karina's anger was still apparent as she looked to Tayla. Her constant sarcastic tone and words were starting to make her wonder if the effort to try and make Tayla cooperate was even worth it...

"You have been testing my patience for a while now, Tayla. I am the only reason why you are still alive... and you appear to have forgotten about this fact." Karina said with a hostile tone.

"Your values are so twisted by the cult that you know not the difference between a subordinate and a slave... Think about these words very carefuly before giving your final answer, Tayla. I won't make my offer a second time." Karina said, replying to Tayla's previous words when she refused to be her subordinate.

After taking a few moments to breathe and regain her composure, Karina gave a step back, distancing the cold, icy wind from Tayla again as it slowly died down.

"It is not nearly as bad as what the cult takes in exchange for power... Your mind... your sanity... But the Being took something very important as well..." Karina said, her tone becoming serious as she said so.

"It took more than just my 'name'. It took my legacy. My accomplishments, all my effort, all I did in my life... Even my very existence will be erased, stolen from me once I die. Nothing will be left behind. As if I had never existed in the first place." Karina explained with anger in her eyes.

"In exchange for a pact I didn't ask for, with the only motivation for it being its own selfish goals... It will now steal my very existence when I die... And what do I get from this? The 'privilege' of being used by him!" She continued, the hatred in her voice seemed to not only be directed towards the Being of Many Names, but Vi'dareus and all the other so called 'gods' as well.

Tayla didn’t know what to say. She honestly couldn’t relate to Karina. She never knew the value of what it meant to be known in the world. Of what it meant to be a part of other people’s lives in a positive way. All she had ever known was pain and suffering from the people above her. She was already forgotten. She had always been forgotten.

So instead of saying something comforting, Tayla just frowned and shrugged. Turning on her side, Tayla faced the blank wall of her cell.

"The c…” Tayla stopped herself short of calling the cult a clan. She had to remember that Karina didn’t like that term, and years of calling it a clan hadn’t made things easier. "The cult doesn’t take our sanity in return for the Insight’s power,” She said, "but it does seem to bind us to the cult.”

Tayla felt the itch grow on the back of her neck from her words. She hadn’t felt the comforting euphoria from the Insight for nearly a week. The unscratchable itch was maddening.

"The itch, it's excruciating. It beckons me. It calls me to the Insight’s comforting embrace.”

She paused for a while before turning her head to look at Karina. "I don’t know what it is that you see in me,-” She began, "-but I don’t think I can be the blank slate loyalist that you are looking for. Furthermore, I am not someone who values their life so much as to fear death from refusing your offer.”

Tayla waved her hand to a plate of uneaten food that lay to the side.

"I chose death the moment I woke up in this cell.” She said solemnly from her cot. "However, you reminded me of something today.”

‘Tayla, you’ll kill yourself…’ Smit’s words rose to her mind again.

Tayla reached to her plate of food and grabbed a bit of bread.

"Smit did not sacrifice himself so that I could go about getting myself killed.”

Tayla took a bite out of the bread, chewed and swallowed.

"Lousy deterrents.” Tayla said with a half chuckle. "Tastes like nothing.”

Tayla turned on her cot, switching the side she was laying on.

"You’re welcome to kill me if you want. Not like I can do much to stop you.” Tayla said while taking another bite of bread. "Or, you can come back some other time, and perhaps talk some more.”

She eyed Karina and shrugged. "Afterall, it's not like I have anything better to do. And who knows, maybe it will even help build up some of that ‘loyalty’ that you seem to be looking for… or at the very least… trust.” She placed emphasis on the word trust.

Karina wanted loyalty, but she had yet to establish trust with Tayla. Trust took time. Trust required effort… on both sides… That was the part Tayla had neglected with Smit. Trust was a two way street.

Tayla sat back up in her cot, and leaned her back against the wall. "Either way, you hold the woodsmen’s whittle. Me, on the other hand… I’m just the block of wood.”

Karina heard Tayla's words in silence. The 'Itch' she described, how she talked about the 'insight's embrace' worried her. That addiction to the insight was what led many to give themselves to the cult, just to have everything taken from them by the cult's 'insight'.

Still, even though Tayla had already been touched by the cult's 'Insight', Karina still saw value in her. She knew how the cult operated better than anyone in the military knew. Probably even more than Chres himself. Her help would be welcome to fight an enemy they knew next to nothing about...

"It's worse than a drug, isn't it? This... 'Insight'... You know better than I would ever know, Tayla. This is how the cult binds people to their ranks, how they rob them of everything... Even their own sanity in the end." Karina said after Tayla finished.

"You seem to be mistaken about me, Tayla. I don't need a puppet, nor a mindless minion to do my biddings. I am not like the Cult nor those revolting creatures, calling themselves 'gods'..." Karina said, her voice firm as she said so.

"I need someone who can think for themselves. Someone who knows more than to just blindly obey orders. Someone who has the capacity to discern the right moment to act and do so when necessary. Someone truly competent." Karina continued, looking right at Tayla's eyes as she did so.

"And I know you can be much more competent than the cult ever gave you credit for." Karina completed. Her voice made it clear that it wasn't just a hunch. She was convinced that Tayla had much more value than the cult ever believed her to have.

"Trust comes first, then loyalty." Karina said as she turned back, going towards the cell door.

"But for now... you should focus on eating and recovering yourself. Next time I come, I will bring something more palatable than what was given to you." Karina said before she walked through the door, closing it behind her. Her words gave Tayla more than enough confirmation that she wasn't planning to kill her.

---

Hider

Tayla chuckled to herself and shook her head as she watched Karina leave. How in the senses had that one not killed her yet, Tayla would never know.

The itch intensified with that thought. Almost urging her to act.

Laying back in her cot, she ignored the itch and the stares and frowns that came from the prison guards. Closing her eyes, she smiled as she tried to drift back to sleep.

"Quite the stick in the mud that one is. Isn’t that right, Tayla?" Said a voice.

Tayla jumped, her eyes shooting back open in an instant. Reclining against the bars inside her cell stood a man with jet black hair. He smile at her with an amused look on his face.

Suddenly alert, Tayla shot up and placed her back against the cell wall. She quickly glanced to the guards. They didn’t even appear to have noticed the man… In fact they didn’t even appear to be moving.

Tayla felt cold, as she suddenly realized how unnaturally quite the world had gotten. Slowly she looked back to the man who continued to smile at her.

She hadn’t even heard the man enter. Who the hell was he?

”Please, allow me to introduce myself, friend. My name… Well, you may call me-"

"Trickster of Tricksters.” Tayla interrupted in sudden realization. "You’re him, aren’t you?”

The Being looked up in mid flourish. ”Well, yes, but I would prefer the name-"

"You know we’re supposed to be enemies, right?” Tayla interrupted again with a smirk. The Being frowned as she continued, "That I’ve already been touched by Insight and that the clan has been looking for someone who has both been touched by Insight and your pact.”

Straightening his posture, The Being smiled and folded his arms. ”Oh is that what you all have been up to? My, my, I never knew. Definitely been in the dark on that one." He said sarcastically.

"Why are you here?” Tayla asked, cutting to the chase.

”To give you the chance to get what you want." The Being said with a knowing smile.

Tayla gave him a look of mistrust. "And what exactly is it that I want?”

”Power. Belonging. Control."

Frowning, Tayla took a seat back on her cot.

"The way I hear it, your abilities don’t work that way in exchange for what you take.”

”My abilities give me the ability to move you in the direction of what I offer in exchange for what I take."

"And what did you offer Miss ‘Stick in the Mud’ there?” She asked, nodding in the direction that Tayla left.

”Her life." The Being said. ”If it weren’t for my involvement, she would have died during Shimmertown’s day of madness. They all would have… except for Chres."

Tayla eyed The Being suspiciously. He had chosen an odd person to make a pact with, especially considering the timing. Karina had only just left but implied that she wanted Tayla to fight beside her against the clan. If Tayla chose that route, she would have more contact with the clan, giving her an easier chance to abandon Karina and return to the Clan’s side.

By appearing before Tayla, the Being was practically begging join Karina only to abandon her for the clan at the first chance Tayla had. She could only imagine the reception she would have on her return. One of the Insight and the pact? She would be exactly what the clan had been looking for. They would laud her as a hero…

Power. Belonging. Control… Tayla met The Being’s gaze. Yes, he was indeed offer Tayla all of that in exchange for making the pact… but why? How did that benefit him?

"You’re going to have me killed, aren’t you?” She said. "Steal my legacy and name the instant I make the pact.”

The Being’s smile grew. “And if I did, would it make a difference? You and I both know that despite what you told Karina, you aren’t going to join her. Even if you do build said trust. Once she realizes your intentions, do you think she’ll stay her blade then?”

Tayla frowned. "And if she learns that I made a pact with you, after everything she just told me. Do you think she’ll stay her blade then?” She shot back.

The Being laughed, ”Have you seen that one’s temper? No. Of course not. You’ll be skewered faster than you can blink. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.”

"You make a very convincing argument.” Tayla said flatly.

“Why thank you, I certainly try.” I shot back without missing a beat.

Tayla lay flat on her cot and placed her arm over her eyes. "I think I’ll pass-”

“Thing is,” The Being said, while cutting her off. “Miss ‘Stick in the Mud’ doesn’t ever have to know about our arrangement.”

Tayla lowered her arm from her face and glanced at The Being.

“Control.” The Being said. “A chance to finally stick it to to woman you can’t best in battle.”

Tayla said nothing. The idea did sound appealing. A chance to stick to Karina through other means in more ways than one. But, did she want that though? The itch on her neck intensified. Yes. A part of her did still want that.

Tayla turned on her side to face away from The Being.

The Being smiled, his form becoming transparent. “I didn’t hear a no.” He said, his voice sounding more distant.

"Nor did you hear a yes.” Tayla said without looking.

“Which is why I’ll be back.” He said. His voice echoed throughout the room.

Tayla merely shrugged, and time rushed back in on itself.

The Five Senses

Arc 1
Epilogue

---

Vetius and the Prince

Sightless Vetius frowned as he probed the crystal jade exterior at the apex of the Shining Palace. Like everywhere else on the exterior of the palace, the Crystal Jade here was still warm to the touch. The crystal fought against his efforts to influence it. A Stray Thought, still alive and healthy. One that still held a connection.

That connection would be the key here, he knew. The key to hacking his way into the magic. The key to changing it and all others with ties to it. However, such a feat could not be done as is. Not while the Stray Thought’s idea resisted outside influence.

“Any luck?” Prince Al’likar asked. Vetius exhaled and shook his head. A gesture the blind prince was able to notice through the eyes of the guide that stood beside him.

As Vetius knew he would, the prince had become more accepting of Vetius since their chat in the prince’s room. The Prince now understood the gravity of the situation.

If the Being won this power struggle... If the Being became whole... then he would leave this world. And seeing that this world’s magic was tied to the power, then the magic would likely go with. With out the power, the world would be thrown into chaos.

There was much in this world that could not exist without the power. Creatures, plants, entire bits of geography! The loss of the power would be devastating to the world. And so, the Being could not be allowed to win.

Furthermore, there was the Prince’s Adept abilities. Vetius suspected that this, more than anything were among the Prince’s highest reasons for coming to accept Vetius and the Clan. For while the Prince was technically blind, he was also a Sight Adept. The combination of those two attributes lead to some interesting results.

Prince Al’likar could see the world, but not through his own eyes. Instead he could see the world through the eyes of others. This had led him to developing some interesting fears in life. Fears of his being alone. Fears of his own blindness. A blindness that came from no one else being nearby.

In addition to his unique adept abilities, Al’likar’s condition led to some more useful possibilities. The kind of possibilities that had made Vetius so interested in the young prince.

The Young Prince pursed his lips. “So then,” He started, “how do we proceed?”

For a while, Sightless Vetius said nothing. He turned his sightless gaze in the prince’s direction, more for gesture than for anything else.

“We’ll need one of the artifacts.” Vetius said.

“Artifacts?”

“Stray Thoughts from long ago.” Vetius said knowing full well the comment had no meaning to the blind prince.

“And where do we find these artifacts?” Al’likar said hesitantly.

“We don’t.” Vetius said. “If the clan looks, it will be noticed.”

"But-"

“The Hekkru-Natjier is looking into it.” He said uneasily. “And from what I hear, it sounds like he may have a lead.”

The prince furrowed his brow, not understanding.

“And who is this Hekkru-Natjier?”

Sightless Vetius stared out into the distance, to where he suspect the visage of city would be.

He didn’t answer the young prince. Instead he let the Insight wash over him. With it, he fruitlessly searched for the artifacts yet again.

---

Another Seed Killed

The Seed let out a final roar as Val and his fellow Pactmakers ripped out its final heart. The Seed, and its monstrous tendrils, fell limply to ground.

“CUT OFF THAT FUCKING MONSTER’S STEM!” Talley roared, tears of anger and grief flowing down her cheeks.

The Seed had just killed her lover, Haithen. Smashed him to bits before her eyes. Pieces of the Haithen still coated her. It was a trauma not likely to go away anytime soon, if ever.

Val struggled forward but faltered. The gaping wound at his side sapping him of strength.

“Senses! The hearts! I think they’re healing!” Nia cried in horror.

Nia herself, hadn’t faired much better than the rest of them. She hadn’t been able to get up after having been tossed, by a tendril, against a wall. Val worried that the creature might have paralyzed the woman, and that was not malady touch healers could easily heal.

Val struggled to rise, but he was too weak.

Whoosh! A woman dashed past him like the wind. Pulling out a curved blade, she hacked at the Seed's stem.

“Breath…” Val breathed out. Breath it was the name -or perhaps title- that the odd woman, with the strange foreign accent, had given them. She had sought the Pactmakers out a few days after the Distortion broke out in the small city of Kalor. A Fishing City on the south-eastern coast of the Nation of Sight.

The woman and her loyal followers seemed to have strange knowledge of the cult. She knew how to hide from the Cult. How to avoid the Insight, and a few techniques to fight back against the Sightless.

Furthermore, she seemed to have no connection to the Being. And yet she knew of him. Knew of his Unspoken Pact. Told them of what he would take from them if they died. The Being… He had fooled them! Lied to them! He had thrown them into this suicide mission, a mission none of them had wanted any part it.

Without Breath and her people. They would have never made it this far. Never have found the Seed’s location. Never have even gotten to the Seed. She and her people had sacrificed for them. And here she was right now, in the nick of time, helping them again.

Breath hacked away at the stem. Once. Twice. Three times. With the fourth strike, she had finally cut the stem clean off and salted the stump.

The Seed died. The world around them seemed to pulse. The Distortion slowly fading away.

Val blinked. After so long of living in the Distortion, he had forgotten what normal looked like. He looked to the dead Seed and gasped. The Seed… Its corpse had turned into Shadow Metal!

Breath collapsed into a sitting position and exhaled. Val could almost feel the woman’s exhaustion.

“It’s done.” She said.

Time stopped. Everyone, except Val and his remaining Pactmakers, froze in place.

“My, my.” Said the Being materializing out of thin air. “I wasn’t sure if you all would actually pull it off.” He said with a smile.

“You bastard.” Talley growled dangerously

“Yes, yes, me. Mr. Bastard” The Being said, looking at Talley with a knowing smile. “But instead of Bastard, how about we try the name-” The Being looked Talley in her eyes, letting his words linger for just a second, “-Haithen.”

Talley screamed in rage. Angered by Haithen taking her deceased lover’s name. Tossing the remains of her lover’s upper half to the side. She rushed at Haithen. Blade in hand.

Haithen snapped his fingers. Disappearing and reappearing beside Breath’s frozen body.

He frowned as if confused. “Hmmm… Perhaps that one might have been too soon...” He said more to himself than to the others.

“YOU THINK?!” Talley raged.

Haithen looked up at Talley. His gaze expressionless.

“Trickster of Tricksters.” An accented voice said beside Haithen.

Haithen blinked twice. His brow furrowing in confusion. He turned hesitantly to the woman beside him. Breath.

Her likeness blurred and unblurred. A strange crystal fell to the ground and vanished. Breath’s appearance had changed. Her black hair turned silver. Her tan skin changed to an orangish-tan hue.

Haithen’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Nashep-Natjier…” Haithen said, sounding almost in awe.

Breath raised her hand before Haithen and clenched it into a fist. It looked almost as if she were grabbing the fabric of reality itself.

“Begone.” She spoke.

The world shattered. Time rushed back in on itself.

When Val opened his eyes, the world returned to normal, but the Being was gone.

Talley collapsed to her hands and knee. “That bastard…” She whispered. “He took his name.”

Breath rose to her feet and looked to Talley, confused. Then, the realization set in.

“Who died?” She asked in her strange accented voice.

Val looked at her hesitantly. The woman he had known as Breath had changed in appearance entirely. And while he knew her voice, he couldn’t place her ethnicity.

“What are you?” Val asked, as Breath’s followers started shuffling into the room.

Val’s breath was slow and heavy. His body weak from blood loss. The world at times spinning.

Breath frowned at the response. Slowly she approached Val. Kneeling, to get a good look at his wound. Her expression turned hard and sorrowful.

Val smiled weakly. “It’s not so bad.” He said.

Breath gave him a flat stare.

“Nothing that your healers can’t heal right?” He’s said nodding off to Breath’s followers.

“I’m sorry, Val.” Breath said somberly.

“Sorry?” Val asked, a hint of worry creeping in his voice. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry… for this.”

Breath’s hand dove into Val’s belly, causing him to gasp. He gasped not in pain, no, there was no pain. Instead he felt something different. Something he couldn’t describe. I was like Breath had dove into Val’s very being and began ripping out bits of him piece by piece.

“I can’t let him have you Val.” Were the last words he heard her say as the world began to fade. “I can’t let him have any of you.”

---

Breath exhaled as Valley, the last of the three pactmakers, died in her arms.

No. There used to be four pactmakers... perhaps more... Breath reminded herself.

She failed Talley. She failed all of them.

She let the woman’s corpse fall to the floor, and looked at the strange crystal held in her hand. Talley’s legacy. Now nothing more than a Stray Thought. The crystal had a strange look to it, with a mirror like sheen. But when you looked into it, it did not show one’s reflection. Rather it contained a world within. With glimpses of experiences, thoughts and emotions springing forth here and there.

Breath had succeeded in cutting out the bonds to the Being from each of the pactmakers. Even succeeded in rescuing their legacy. But what she seemed unable to do, was to do so without killing them.

Sighing, Breath shattered the fragile crystal in her hands and released Talley’s legacy back into the world.

“Another loss, Nashep-Natjier?” Dak-qam, One of her followers asked. He was of her Sqarwn-Enx, those bond for life.

Breath, The Nashep-Natjier -God’s Breath-, nodded solemnly.

“I can cut away his bond,” The Nashep-Natjier said in her native language, “but I can’t save them.”

“Then we do what must be done.” Dak-qam said. “We kill them all.”

“Kill all the pactmakers?”

Dak-qam nodded.

Nashep-Natjier sighed and shook her head. “We can’t beat him that way.” She said. “For every pact we end, he’ll make another.”

The Nashep-Natjier looked to Dak-qam. “And we can’t possibly find them all.”

“We kill them all. It is the best way.” Dak-qam repeated.

The Nashep-Natjier pursed her lips and rose to her feet.

“Come.” The Nashep-Natjier said. “It is time for us to go.“

Dak-qam nodded in agreement. Their job in this town was done, and furthermore she had revealed herself to The Being and firmly drew her line in the sand.

There would be more Pactmakers to find elsewhere. More bonds for her to break. The Being, he did not deserve the power he held. No one person would ever deserve the power he held.

It was her responsibility to break him. Her responsibility to break all of them.

End of Arc 1

The Five Senses

Arc 1
Aftermath

---

Immediate Aftermath

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

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

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

---

Malkev's Imprisonment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Why? To taunt me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God’s Voice?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guards… Help…” He wheezed out.

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

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

“You?... The guards…?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The new Malkev shrugged, unsure of the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

---

Viktor Frost's Unexpected Visit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Viktor squinted. This woman, she looked familiar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Princess smirked as she picked herself off the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names (A.K.A. Bud)

Interactions with @Jerkchicken

---

Bud smiled at Jen's comment. "My dear Dirty Bastard... wait- I'm sorry. That's right, you go by Jen now.-"

Bud snapped his fingers. A copy of him appeared next to Jen and elbow nudged him on his wounded shoulder.

"Look at you, switching names on us like that! Taking after your good ol' friend Bud, huh?"

Bud snapped his fingers. The copy disappeared.

"My dear Jen, if there was an easy answer to this problem, then I would have done it years ago. Alas, fixing myself has proven far more complicated. However, wiping out the cult might be a sure way to start." Bud said the last sentence more to himself then the others.

"At one point I thought, that by isolating the cult to their Broken Islands would be enough to starve them of new members. Near the dawn of the current era, the world had turned against the cult and forced them to their current home. Resented by all, they were isolated for many a year. And while their power started to wane, I underestimated the cult's resiliency.

"I figured that given time, their great All-Seeing Eye, wouldn't hesitate at the chance to turn its remaining followers into Sightless. It sustains him after all. Keeps him strong. What I didn't expect was his capacity to resist temptation. He resisted the urge to convert all his followers, and allowed them to build families on the isles. Generations of followers. Generations of Sightless.

I thought that time would ultimately put an end to the cult. And while it might have eventually ended them, what I didn't expect was for time to turn enemy on me. As millennia passed, the people of Saencila began to forget their hatred of the cult. It started with trade, which turned into visitation, which eventually led to the acceptance of missionaries."

Bud shook his head. "No, time doesn't work against the cult. It only makes them stronger." He looked to Jen. "In all honesty I'm not entirely sure how to proceed. It's something I'm still working on."

Chres frowned as he tried to absorb he information Bud presented. There was context missing here. It seem Bud often like to omit context in his explanations.

"You were spot on though." Bud continued after moment. A hint of amusement returning to his face. "Offerings and prayers won't help me. And as for faith?" Bud laughed. "Faith won't do any of us any good. It sustains neither me nor you."

Chres narrowed his eyes.

"So then... what does sustain you?"

His attention turned on Chres. An uncomfortable frown appearing on his face. It made Chres uneasy. Bud didn't seem to like this question.

"You know Chres, perhaps we-."

"Answer the question." Chres pressed. Suspicion filled his voice.

Bud shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Your legacy." He sighed finally.

Chres furrowed his brow. Their legacies?

"The Unspoken Pact. You've heard the Sightless mention this term before."

"They call us pactmakers." Chres nodded hesitantly.

"Like with the Insight. Throwing in your lot with me comes with... conditions."

"What kind of conditions." Chres asked. His question sounding like a growl.

"The kind I wish... I didn't have to make." Bud said reluctantly.

Chres stared Bud down. Waiting expectantly.

"Upon your deaths, I take everything. Everything that you did in life. Everything that you were in life."

Chres' felt his blood go cold.

"Your names. Your memory. Your experiences. The memories others have of you. I take it all. Your legacies, Chres." Bud said somberly. "Aside from your fellow pactmakers, the world will not remember you... Any of you... Unspoken... forever more..." Bud hesitated. "I-I'm sorry."

Chres felt his heart begin to race. Outrage filling his blood. Sorry? SORRY?!

"Why?" Chres felt his voice trembling dangerously. "Why are we only hearing of this now?"

Bud looked to Chres almost sorrowfully. "Because," Bud started, his voice full of shame, "as I am right now, without a consistent flow of Pacts, I will die."

"YOU will die? YOU?!" Chres barked out a dry laugh at the irony of the statement. An entity that lived off of the deaths and erasure of other people did so out of fear of his own mortality and erasure from memory.

"This isn't a pact most would make if they knew the conditions ahead of time." Bud said. "And my death is the last thing you want."

"Funny, because right now, your death is very close to my top ten."

For a while, Bud said nothing. "If I die now. The entity that is me will vanish, but the power I control will not. It will live on and pass to another. And as of right now, the top candidate for taking my power is one the Sightless worship. Vi'daerus."

Yet again, shadow fell upon the room when the name was spoken. This time though, it was accompanied by a sharp wind that began to blow through the room.

Chres looked around, surprised by the sudden wind.

"Mark my words." Bud continued. "You do not want Vi'daerus as the 'god' of this world."

The room began to shudder with Vi'daerus's name uttered twice in quick succession. The wind began to roar and rage, as the ceiling of the cellar began the creak as if it were being pulled from its hinges.

"Vi'daerus. The product of my sins."

The winds turned into a cyclone and ripped the ceiling clean off. A red night sky appeared above, with bulbs of light that looked like stars but bigger. The red night sky cracked and shattered. A Sightless white eye appeared from beyond.

"Speak his name and his eye will fall upon you. Wise, it would be, to fear the Discarded of Sight."

Oily black tendrils shot from the cracks in the sky, reaching for Bud.

Chres' mouth opened in awe and fear. Unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Farewell, my friends. Until we meet again."

Bud snapped his fingers as the tendrils rushed for him. The world blurred. Time rushed in on itself. The cellar returned to its normal, non-destroyed, state prior to the Being's appearance. The unseeing eye, he named Vi'daerus, gone.

The Being... Chres noted that he did not think of him as Bud anymore... Odd as it were, he didn't linger on the thought long.

"That bastard..." Chres whispered. Fatigue, pain, anger and hopelessness washed over Chres as he lay on the ground, unable to pull himself to his feet with his broken leg.

"Senses... Did we win?" Chres absently heard one of the touch soldiers ask.

"We won! We did it! We killed the monster!"

The soldiers let out a cheer. As they gathered their wits and set to work on tending to the pactmakers. One even heading back through the tunnel to get help.

Chres lay there motionless, not saying a word.

As help began to arrived, they tended to the pactmakers and lifted Chres to safety. Still he remained nothing but silent. Broken.

He was going to take everything, The Being. His reason for living. His reason for dying. His ability to punish himself and tarnish his own reputation, should he learn that he indeed did deserve death. All of it, The Being has just made meaningless.

'You don’t understand.’ His wife's voice rang again. 'You don’t understand!’

What? What didn't he understand?

The Being had forced Chres' hand. He had but one path left. One outcome to hope for. Learn the truth behind his wife's actions, and pray that what he learned did not justify self punishment.

Chres felt his consciousness slip as he was carried away to the army makeshift infirmary. His wounds tended to by touch healers.

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names (A.K.A. Bud)

Interactions with @HokumPocus

---

"You words, not mine." Bud said with a smile. "Did I use to be an entity of extraordinary power? Oh, yes! Of course! But was I a god?" Bud's smile deepened. "That question is a little more up in the air. An answer that depends on perspective and, perhaps more importantly, on your definition of a god.

"That said, it seems your missing the point. A point I thought I made clear. I do not wish for worship or rulership. Though, perhaps, it was not a misunderstanding between us friends. Perhaps... it was a statement of envy..."

Bud cocked his head, an amused look on his face.

"I see. So that's what it was. My, my, how familiar." Bud spoke, as he stared into Octavio's eyes. only to shake his head soon after.

"But I digress. You asked a question I've oft been asked many times before. Why don't I help more? Well, perhaps there are other people out there who I've thrown my lot in with. People besides the lovely Octavio and his Pactmaker friends. Or perhaps such facilitation is part of the reason the world is in its current mess. Hmmmm... wouldn't that be an interesting twist? Or perhaps, oh yes perhaps, the wonderful Bud is not so great and mighty, as he lets on. His attention only able to focus on so many things at once. But perhaps, just perhaps, the answer is all or even none of the above."

The strange man shrugged. His amused smile ever present. "I don't know. Pick a reason."

Chres' expression darkened at the response. "Try this for a reason. You're a cunt who doesn't actually care whether we live our die. All of this is nothing more than a game to you."

"My, my Chres, you ought to wash out that mouth of yours."

Bud snapped his fingers. A bar of wet soap appeared in Chres' mouth. Chres spat and sputtered. The bar of soap fell to the ground.

Bud smiled at his prank, only for it fade away shortly after. The more serious side of Bud appeared to resurface.

"The years have made it hard for me to care, Chres. Though in my own broken way, I do care about my pactmakers. Your Unspoken Pacts maintain my existence. It feeds me names and knowledge. I depend on our connection to survive, however, perhaps that same connection keeps me at arms length."

Bud's smile re-emerged. "So, Chres, how about you try that for a reason instead?"

Chres remained unimpressed.

Bud rolled his eyes and sighed. Finger raised in the air, he turned his attention back to Octavio. "Oh, and by the way Octavio, I do call myself what I want. Or have you not caught on to that yet? Last time we met, I went by the name Gin. Today, however, I've been going by the name -drumroll please-" With the snap of his fingers, a large circular drum appeared behind him and literally began to roll across the room. "-Bud."

The drum crashed into a wall. Smiling, Bud snapped his fingers again. Confetti popped around him and a 'Tada!' sound effect echoed across the room.

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names (A.K.A. Bud)

Interactions with @13org

---

Again a shadow seemed fall upon the room when the name, Vi'daerus, was spoken.

Bud cautiously glanced around only to give what seem to be an almost nervous chuckle. "Not of the faith, are you Ice Flower?" He mused at Karina's words. "Well you might be happy to hear that neither am I. They call me the Lord of Senses. Though honestly, I would prefer to not really be a Lord of anything. If you would take away anything from this encounter, then take away this. I do not wish to fashion myself as a god. So please, if you would be so kind, spread word to my would be 'followers' and tell them to go... sniff a butt." Bud smiled. Amused by his very unclever butt joke.

"Their Goooooooooooood commands it!" He spoke the last sentence as if preaching to a quire. Hands shooting into the air.

"You still haven't answered the question." Chres growled. His patience was thin. Not just due to Bud's annoying nature, the pain from his injuries or from to his own tiredness. No, he feared this lack of patience was starting to come from something much deeper.

Bud eyed Chres, and gave him a lopsided grin. "Alright. Alright. I give." He said. His hands raised in the air innocently. "Believe me though, the answer is not very satisfying."

Bud snapped his fingers. A chair appeared behind him. Taking a seat, he said. "I'm actually not entirely sure what I am." Bud's pride and arrogance seemed to fall away with his words. His coy smile turning into one far less certain. He seemed to age in that moment. Not physically, but mentally.

"At the very least, I seem to be a bubble of awareness, shattered long ago. I can create these temporary bubbles of existence, occasionally move minor objects to and fro. Aside from that though, I can't do much else... well, other than my ability to form pacts with the likes of you.

"My shattering imprisoned me to this land. Trapped me for many a year. I do not seek godhood. I simply wish to be free from this world and the bonds that tie me here. The Cult's continued existence is the final healthy bond that holds me to this world."

"That is why I came to you. By gambling on all of you, I knew that at the very least it would save you all from the day of Madness that struck Shimmertown the day after. So while yes, I am using you as pawns, I did so knowing that it might save your lives for another day."

Bud sighed. He bent forward in his seat and looked to Karina. Bags lined the bottom of his eyes. "I have seen all this world has to offer. It tires me, Karina. Makes my essence grow thin. To see the realms that lie beyond, that is what I need. For this prison, it drives me mad. It is a madness I'm sure you have already seen. A madness I wish to stave off a while longer."

Chres frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of Bud's words. The man joked from one moment only to become serious the next.

"And yet," Chres spoke hesitantly. The itch, it clawed at the back of his neck. "when we met, you claimed that your involvement wouldn't save my life. You claimed I would survive the aftermath."

"I said, they would take you. Convert you." Bud waved his hand to the corpse of the Seed. "Did my involvement not save you?"

"Only if what you claim is true." Chres said coldly, the itch digging ever deeper.

'You don’t understand’ His wife's words rang through his head.

"And even then, I wonder if a little Insight wouldn't have hurt."

Bud blinked. A cold look crossing his face. For the first time since he first appeared before the Pactmakers, Bud actually seemed bothered by one of their statements. "Then by all means, run off to your friends in the Cult, Chres. I'm sure they would welcome you with open arms."

Now it was Chres' turn to blink. Why had he said that? He shook his head. The wariness was getting to him. "I'm sorry." He said warily to the others. "I didn't mean..."

Bud gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Noooo..." He said getting up from his seat. With a snap the chair disappeared. "I'm sure you didn't mean anything."

He gave Chres a smile that didn't reach his eyes. In that moment, the ware and tear seemed to vanish from Bud's face entirely. The normal Bud began to resurface.

"You know on second thought, Karina. Maybe you shouldn't go around telling people that I told them to go sniff a butt. Senses no! For if you did, I fear they actually might start doing it! Knowing them, they would make it some sort of tradition! Can you imagine, Karina? Everyone sitting around for evening prayer only to be told, 'And now we end this ceremony with the ceremonial sniffing of the butt.'"

Hand this his face, Bud shook his head. "Ooooh, the humanity!"

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names (A.K.A. Bud)

Interactions with @13org @Fetzen

---

"Bravo! Gold star for man with girth!" Bud exclaimed proudly. The man snapped his fingers. A gold star shaped adhesive appeared on Týfurkh's forehead.

Bud frowned. "Then again, you weren't entirely on the ball there, so maybe you get more liiiike... half a star."

The man snapped his fingers. The star tore in two; the torn half falling loosely to the ground.

"Its a side effect of loosing access to godly power all at once. A recoil of power that rebounded back on the physical body that channeled it.

"As for what to do with it..." Bud shrugged. "Take as much as you can for all I care. I'm sure you'll get a pretty price for it from the right seller. Oooooor, you could keep a bit for yourself. The stuff cancels out any sight magic just by touching it. I'm sure you'll find much joy in using it to threaten the little fairy that follows this one around." Bud said while nodding in Chres' direction.

Chres stared coldly at Bud. The man was not winning himself any points with off hand comments like that.

"I wouldn't be so fast take it." Chres said. "Seeing that General Frost is Karina's Father, word of this cache of shadow metal will inevitably get back to General Frost. Even if Karina decided to turn a blind eye to any of us taking the shadow metal, You can be sure that her father will have our belongings searched for the metal. Especially considering the type of magic he is known for. This thing, it's not just a gold mine, but a weapon as well."

Chres looked to Karina. "Isn't that right, Karina?"

"You could also use it as a rock to smack around Mr. 'I don't know how to have any fun' here." Bud said quickly.

The comment earned another glare from Chres. An amused smile spread across Bud's face.

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names (A.K.A. Bud)

---

Chres looked around the ruined cellar. This sensation. This stopping of time. He felt it early. Back in the tunnels beneath the city. Before they entered the Cult's Church.

'You could have run.' Those were the words he had heard back then.

Chres looked back to Bud. He had taunted Chres. Played on his desires to have left and be done with this. Played on his growing frustration. Yes, he could have run after the army took the wall, but there was danger in doing so. Danger in being seen as the enemy trying to escape.

The hostility returned in Chres' eyes as he stared Bud down. This man, whatever he was, he was toying with them. Playing with their lives.

Chres' gaze fell back onto the corpse of the Seed. Its remains now turned to Shadow Metal.

Bud frown, perhaps sensing the room's hostility. He turned his gaze to the Seed as well.

"By killing it, you cut the Seed off from its source of power. Speak his name and his eye shall fall upon us. The Root of Insight. Discarded of Sight-" Bud smiled softly as he spoke the next few words, "Vi'daerus, the Omniscient."

A shiver suddenly ran down Chres' spine. It felt as though a looming presence had fallen upon the pactmakers. A presence which made the itch on the back of his neck intensify.

"Vi'daerus?" Chres said hesitantly. Again his itch intensified.

"It is the inevitable fate of all Sightless to eventually give in to the deepest temptations of the Insight. It binds them to its power. Brings them as close to godhood as one can reach without bodily destruction. So close, in fact that their body requires an anchor to bind them to this realm.

"A connection to the land. A deep relation to the place in which they root. To become be a Seed requires one to merge into the fabric of reality itself. Whether it being born to the land, to have greatly influenced the land or to have lived in the land for many a year, whatever your connection may be, it is this anchor that holds them to this world. Without it, the world will surely reject them."

Chres shook his head. There was too much here to take in. "Merge with reality?" It sounded like a word salad to him.

Bud smiled. "Tsk Tsk, my dear Chres. That Distortion, do you think it natural? The roots of the Seed dug deep into the fabric holding this realm together. It influenced it! Changed it! Distorted it! Such is a thing that the world normally resists. But by having ties to the land, one can trick the land into thinking it belongs! Kind of like how you've been acting this whole time, am I right Chres?"

The itch of Chres' neck flared again, he couldn't help but scratch at it. He expression darkened, but bud seemed to pay no mind. Instead he casually strolled over to the remains of Neiffar. Rotten remains which, unlike O'Kal's, had not turned to Shadow Metal.

"Our fool of a friend Nieffar knew all this before taking the dive into the depths of Insight. Yet still he took the plunge."

Bud smiled softly. Causally he pointed his thumb behind him towards Nieffar. "This guy, am I right? He stayed in Shimmertown for what? A week? Surely he knew better?"

Bud sighed and waved his hand to the rotten corpse. "But alas, such is the result of his foolishness. Good for us though, right?" Bud said while giving the Pactmakers a knowing smile.

Chres frowned. He didn't share Bud jovial attitude. Instead of smiling, he looked back to the corpse of Lord O'Kal, thinking on what was said. So that was why they turned him into a Seed. Who better than the Lord of Shimmertown himself?!

Bud followed Chres' gaze back to O'Kal's corpse. The Shadow Metal corpse appeared to devour the light around it.

"That one though, with his anchor well cemented,-" Bud said frowning. "-he became one with the Insight. It changed him. Transformed him. By killing him, you cut him off from the power. A Stray Thought, snuffed out like a candle. This-." Bud kicked aside a stray tendril of shadow metal, "-is the result."

The Five Senses

Chres
The Being of Many Names

---

The Being's smile grew as Týfurkh finished his inquiry. With a snap of his fingers, the Being vanished and reappeared besides Týfurkh.

"Týfurkh. Týfurkh. Oh my dear friend Týfurkh." The Being said while shaking his head condescendingly.

The Being reached out as if to place his arm on the Giant's shoulder, only to hesitate soon after. Týfurkh was far too tall for the Being to put his arm around the giant without it seeming awkward.

The Being frowned and snapped his fingers. The Being's legs grew instantly, putting him at a comparable height to Týfurkh. With his arm now comfortably wrapped around the giant's shoulders, The Being smiled and nodded as if to say 'Much better'.

"You sure have a lot of breath for a man with cracked ribs." He teased with a smile.

"Who am I? Just your best bud of course! What am I? Same answer -Is what I would say if I just wanted to mess with you- However, today, I'm feeling generous. So who am I?"

The Being snapped his fingers. A bag materialized in his right hand. The Being of Many Names reached into the bag and pulled out a piece crumbled paper. Unfolding the piece of paper showed a name scribbled on it. 'Bud'.

"Ah-ha! Bud! What a wonderful name to wear today! So who am I? Please, by all means, Týfurkh. Call me Bud." The Being, Bud, smiled as if pleased with himself.

"It's not... dangerous." Chres said breathing deeply in between words. "Its the black sheep of magic deterrents. A metal softer... than gold. Soft, and rare..."

"Why, thank you Chres. You're such a wealth of knowledge."

"Shut up and answer his questions." Chres growled while wincing in pain. "What the hell happened there?!" He said, pointing at the Shadow Metal. "Where... in Senses were you?! And why us?!"

Chres didn't have the patience for Bud's shenanigans. He was tired, beaten, and broken in more places than one.

Bud's smile seemed to wane. "I apologize for my attitude. When you exist as long as I have, you begin to lose yourself. It becomes important to find a way to cope."

Bud turned his attention back to Týfurkh "As I told the others in the past, my absence was important for you all to succeed. Any prolonged appearances would have signaled your location to the Sightless as it did the first time I met the others... Besides-" Bud's smiled returned. "I'm largely useless anyway. Aside from this bubble of existence that I've created, my ability to impact the world has long since been stripped away.

"As for why I picked you lot? Call it a gamble on my end. I may not have a connection to the Insight, but I do catch glimpses of what's possible. It was honestly a roll of the dice when I choose you lot. And would you lookie here? It seems my gamble paid off -please hold your applause"

Chres frowned. The hostility leaving his eyes somewhat. "You should be applauding us. Not us applauding you."

"Oh, but I did." Bud said. "Did you not hear my slow clap after you all bravely slew the Seed?"

Chres grumbled. Slowly he forced himself into a sitting position.