The Mansion in the Woods

Sanguilia jogged through the forest at a speed most creatures would label sprinting. For her it was a soothing pace. She had withdrawn her spirit that had chased the animal life away and they were now returning. She could sense their faint curiosity. It made her smile. She came to a smooth stop and stretched out her hand, giving a nearby doe a gentle push with her mind. The small animal slowly approached and looked at the human, wary of the two legged predator. Sanguilia's smile broadened and she made a reassuring sound. It worked and the animal came closer. She purred with pleasure when the doe started licking her hand. Her shoulders relaxed as some of the stress she had accumulated slid out of her.

Despite her eagerness to fight Fauknirs, killing them always left a bad taste in her mouth. She tried to console herself with the knowledge that she had made his death as smooth as possible. Not the Fauknir's death, she didn't care much about those, but the original human whose life was basically put on halt as soon as the curse took over.
Poor Claum. The kid had even thought to ask her to protect his sister. It was perhaps for the best. When a Fauknir awakened, there were no survivors. Blood magic running rampant was a nasty thing.

Then there was the little Li'Bae. A tiny Kobold girl. Sanguilia sighed and patted the doe on her head. It wasn't too likely the Kobolds would still be friendly. The Maester would more than likely rescind her status as a guest, meaning she wouldn't be able to see Li'Bae again. The tiny twerp had been so innocent, so curious, and so stupidly eager to try anything no matter how risky or how large the chance of getting caught was. And while she was quick to learn how to avoid making the same mistake twice, she never seemed to understand the idea that sometimes moderation, or abstaining from an ill-conceived prank, was also a viable alternative.
The kid had wormed her way into Sanguilia's heart in no time at all and she had found herself allied with the tiny girl as partners in crime before anyone could blink. It had also upgraded the girl from a mere nuisance to a very dangerous mischief maker that could set off consecutive series of pranks until the victim neared the point of a mental breakdown, although no permanent harm was done and everyone always had a great laugh in the end.

And now she'd have to say goodbye to the girl, after which the Kobolds would no doubt tell her that she was a demon in disguise. Life wasn't fair.
Bah. She shook her head. Irrelevant. Emotional. Fleeting. The girl was a Kobold. She'd be dead and dust in the blink of an eye anyway. That was a stupid reasoning and she knew it. Things like that were essential to make life worth living. Her master had hammered on that so often. Living long didn't mean living well, and the risk of cutting oneself off from anything due to overexposure was incredibly dangerous.
She had obeyed him, but not believed him. That had been a long time, however, and as usual, time had proven him right. Time always proved him right.

She shook her head again. She shouldn't let her thoughts dwell on her master too often. It put her in a weird mood. Anyone who met the guy assumed he was arrogant beyond belief. Always claiming to know better, always seeming to look down on everyone as if they were children. Coming to terms with the fact that he did know better and that to him, everyone was a child... That hadn't been easy. He was, even without meaning to, an incredibly dominating person, even if he didn't exert that influence consciously.

See? She was doing it again! But at least it took her thoughts away from little Li'Bae, she thought with a smile. Her master. Enigma of nature. Counterpoint of the Flows. So many titles she had given him over the years, none of them a lie. She missed him. The more she thought about him, the more her memories of time spent together flooded back towards her. Flows, she missed him. Her heart ached for being with him again. He was her master. Her mentor, her friend. Her brother and father, grandfather and uncle, her guardian and her instructor. He was everything to her. Except her lover. Oh no, he wasn't that. And for that, she'd kill him.

But for now there were other fish to fry. The strange metal Orc for instance. And that Faerie, whom unless she was mistaken, was the child of a friend of hers. And of course, there was that suspicious duo that was standing next to her captives, pinned down by her and forced to hide behind a shield. The former two would make for a lovely homecoming gift. Something new to pester her master about. Interesting things were like air to the two of them. Who knows? She might even surprise him with the metal Orc!

Excitement took a hold of her and she sped off, darting through the forest with blistering speed. She jumped onto the nearest tree and allowed her magic to guide her. She jumped nimbly from trunk to trunk, using the solid footing to further increase her acceleration, while sparks melted together forming long lines of energy that pulled her along. She reached the end of the forest in mere minutes. As she saw the bright light that indicated the open fields that lay between the forest and the city, she threw a second line out, creating a makeshift catapult, and launched herself forward like a missile. She flew through the air, laughing out loud. So many people grew strong, gained physical and magical abilities that so many dreamed of, and then grew boring. No fun to be had with those. As she sailed through the air she stretched herself, loving the feel of the wind pressing against her body. She opened her mouth and screamed, the blowing winds reducing it to nonsensical garbling, and she laughed even more. Then she neared the ground and she altered her traject, kicking her feet downwards while conjuring more sparks. The light blue sparks landed neatly underneath her and she skid forward on them, using them as a makeshift chariot.

She raced across the fields, marvelling at how quickly the landscape passed. There was nobody around, she could easily sense that, nobody who could see what she was doing, leaving her free to move as she wished, using her full arsenal of magical toys. She had to bend her knees a bit to deal with all the bumps in the road, given that she still hadn't fully mastered the amazing art of suspension yet. And forcing a body to float was just a completely retarded energy drain not worth the effort. Cancelling out gravity required far too much energy. Wings were a better alternative, but most people had no idea of how much energy you had to feed the things if you kept them small, and large ones that could actually support you were impossibly huge.

The road underneath became increasingly worse when she reached the zone that used to be the gate. Now it was ground bloody zero. Despite that the Fauknir's army had done a decent job of cleaning up the corpses they could reach, there had been plenty folks that had been buried by the rubble. Aside that there was blood all over the place. The smell wasn't too pleasant either. An army collectively shitting their pants tended to have that effect. Luckily enough she didn't have to spend too long there. She wasn't too bothered by the death and destruction that she personally caused.

Then it was through the abandoned city streets. Most of them were deserted with people running en masse to the other side, away from the destruction and the carnage. Her spirit covering the entire area around her helped, of course. Making animals run for their life or convincing humans that packing up and getting out of the area as soon as possible were surprisingly similar tasks. Soon enough the streets turned into a war zone again as she approached her goal. She whistled, impressed by the destruction. It was quite different from seeing something through the awareness of a magical entity and witnessing it with her own two eyes. It didn't take long before she spotted the two humans encased in the woman's shield. She dissipated the sparks that formed her ride and hopped off. She slid her staff off her back and casually approached the pair, whisking the unconscious Orc and the dead Faerie to her side.


Ly didn't know whether to be happy or worried that the mastermind behind all of this finally had shown up. Miriander had resorted to praying silently, so that had at least been a minor blessing. Simply sitting there and having to wait for everything to come to her wasn't her style though. It had been nerve wracking, even if she had used the time to tighten the lines of her defense considerably. Magic wasn't a mere static thing. The more time you had, the more complicated the spells you weaved would become, the more elegant and tough the strands of energy you could weave. No matter who her foe was, she would be no easy prey.

She wasn't too surprised to find that her enemy was female, but it threw her off a bit all the same. One glance at the woman's eyes and she knew that the youthful appearance was a lie. That didn't surprise her. She was the same. Magical abilities significantly decreased the speed one aged at. Still, usually when magic was at play the person wielding it tended to slightly boost their own appearance. And this girl obviously hadn't done that in the slightest. She seemed tough, however. When she walked, she did so with an unconscious manner that displayed martial prowess. Ly threw her a murderous look and she was greeted by a smile. A shiver ran down her spine. Her instincts were screaming at her. This woman meant trouble. She looked her over. Aside her rough physical features, she was wearing basic, practical clothing. No armour, nothing that was enhanced as far as she could tell. a simple woodman's outfit, tough and durable to keep thorns out, but soft enough that it didn't limit any movement. The staff seemed normal enough at a glance, even if she couldn't place the wood or the type of metal that was banded around the top and bottom, but her intuition told her that it was more than it seemed.

"Well, well, well. Look what the Separ dragged in," the woman spoke. She made a quick gesture with her staff and the rain of sparks that had locked her in place evaporated. Ly fought off the urge to launch a direct strike at the woman. She had put tremendous effort in her shield, she wasn't going to abandon her fortified position that easily.
"I must admit, I'm kind of curious about you. You managed to not die. Well done on that by the way. That's quite an achievement."
Ly growled. Miriander chose that moment to stir from his prayers and veered upright. His eyes were red from tears, and ablaze with anger.
"You!" he yelled. "You are the vile monster tha—" His eyes turned glassy and he fell down, as if his muscles had suddenly stopped functioning.  Ly knelt down next to him and brought her fingers to his neck. His pulse was gone. He was dead.
"Yeah, I've had quite enough of that crap today." She tapped her staff against the bag she was carrying. "This bloke was full of that."

Ly stumbled back, as much as the shield around her allowed it. He was dead. How? She hadn't felt anything! No mental pressure, no magic, her shield had remained intact! But one moment he was alive and the next he was dead. She turned back towards the woman. She should feel rage, but all she could do was struggle with the fear that she felt. This wasn't the same as what she had felt with Daenan. This was a direct, immediate threat that she could not comprehend. Her own death was a minor thing. Her worries concerned what she knew. No matter what happened, her knowledge had to be taken to the grave along with her. She threw a quick glance at the dead Miriander and realised she had a way out. She sent a small prayer upwards. She would not be remiss in her duty. A Fauknir was a mad threat, but this one was very sentient. Death before dishonour.
"You v—"

Drops of sweat ran down Ly's forehead when she saw the sudden glare in those brown eyes. Clouds of anger seemed to swirl in them.
"Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to not be aware when a little girl is trying to commit suicide in order to get out of trouble? Pah. Been there, done that! Doesn't work! But congratulations! You did about the most idiotic thing you could do!"
The woman approached her, cold and determined and Ly backed away from her, until she was pressing hard against the back of her shield.
"Oh, you probably feel safe in your little cocoon of magic, don't you?" the woman said, still shooting angry glares at her. Her voice was drooping with sarcasm.
"Congratu-fucking-lations!" she shouted, before shoving her hand into it. The dense magical field struggled with the intruder for a brief moment, before it flickered out of existence as a very essential threat was pulled out of the web. Before Ly fully realised that a shield of such strength could just be turned off like that, the woman held her by the throat. Forget Daenan giving her a little fright before, the intensity of the stare she was receiving now turned her blood to ice. She struggled, completely in vain. The woman was impossibly strong.
"Now then. I'm going to ask you a few..." She trailed off and turned her head to the east.
"By the Flows, those are your friends approaching, aren't they? Spilled blood and guts, those are going to head straight for the Kobolds!"

Ly felt the grip around her neck loosen slightly. Those had to be her reinforcements the woman was talking about! Finally they'd arrive! Wait! If she was worried about the Kobolds having to face them, that meant they had survived the attack of the Fauknir. Which could only mean...

"Is this the answer to your question?" the woman asked, pulling the Fauknir's head out of the bag.
Ly's complexity lost all its colour. The implications of how strong the woman in front of her was in order to take on a Fauknir, win, and emerge from the battle unscathed made her head spin. Forget fighting back against a foe like this. That left her with only one proper option. She summoned her magic to her aid and started conjuring a ball of energy inside of her own body.
It didn't surprise her too much when the energy left her and her mind grew hazy from the sudden loss. She was angry about it, certainly, but not too surprised. The woman had made it clear that suicide wouldn't be a way out, and anyone that was strong enough to solo a Fauknir probably had the ability to back up words like that.

The woman still glared at her, before seeming to relent and letting go of her throat. Unceremoniously, Ly dropped to the ground.
"Right. How about a deal? You saw something you shouldn't have, and that means I have to kill you. On the other hand, I'm really not feeling up to fighting the group that's gathering now. So, I propose a trade. I take you along with me on a little journey and drop you off at my superior. In exchange, you call them off. I want the Kobolds left alone."

Ly sat numbly on the ground, massaging her sore throat.
"What do you mean?" she croaked.
The woman sighed.
"Listen, you and that group? You feel similar. So obviously you share the same goals. Similarly, your thoughts leak out of you like a sief. You wanted the Fauknir dead, but you also wanted the Kobolds dead. I want them alive and left alone. Everyone that went out to hurt them is dead. That's literal by the way. All of them are dead. I saw to that. Now, fighting those friends of yours is going to result in a lot of people dead. You can assume that I don't want to fight because I'm exhausted, I might do the same in your position, but heed my words." The flames in her eyes roared at those words as the woman knelt down in front of the Paladin and brought her face a mere inch away from Ly's.
"If I fight, you, nor your friends will live to tell the tale."
Ly swallowed nervously. She didn't doubt the veracity of those words. Maybe she should doubt them, maybe the sheer strength of her opponent frightened her into believing lies. At the very least, it seemed a simple truth that nobody could beat a Fauknir and walk off none worse for the wear.
And yet, it was also an unspoken truth that nobody could defeat a Fauknir without significant backup. Not to mention, there was steel in the woman's eyes.

Still, if the woman was willing to bargain...

"That doesn't seem like a deal to my advantage," she weakly protested.
"Oh, it's not," came the immediate response. The woman put her staff down and hopped onto it, keeping her balance precariously with one foot, wiggling back and forth slightly.
"But you see, it will keep a lot of people alive. And travelling with me is never boring. Besides, you might come to like me! We could be besties before you know it!" She winked and Ly was left staring wide eyed at the woman, who laughed at her response.
"Yeah, I have that effect on a lot of people. Don't worry. It'll only get worse."
She hopped off her staff, did a somersault and landed behind Ly. Before the Paladin could turn, the woman grabbed her from behind and pulled her to her feet.
"Besides, given how intensely you smell of that Orc, minus the deep fried scent that he is currently emitting, I'm sure you have a few interesting stories to tell of your own."

Ly met the woman's eyes and saw raw insanity in it. There was power aplenty, but insanity was the main factor. She couldn't break eye contact however, stubbornly refusing to be the first to look away. Then she spotted something lying underneath the clouds of madness. When she managed to look beyond that, she saw that the woman's eyes were bright and clear. And horrifyingly ancient.

For the first time in the many decades that Ly had been alive, she felt like a young girl, at the fortress-monastery again.
And as the woman gave her an all too knowing smile, she realised that she'd been caught red handed with her hands on the cookie jar.

Melena was panting, her long blond hair glued together by the sap of the pine tree she was laying behind. She was exhausted. She had been running for Lord knows how long now. On top of her was Evon, keeping his hand on her mouth to keep her quiet . She had been happy to see him again, and even happier to discover that the man was overjoyed when he discovered she had become a real student. He had turned the evening meal into a real party and had dragged her into the middle of everyone, loudly praising her success. She had been so embarrassed that she had fervently wished to just disappear, but contrary to her expectations she had received a loud chorus of cheers from the roughly six hundred students present. After several rounds of cheering and mugs being raised, Evon had, very unceremoniously at that, emptied his mug over her head, soaking her from top to bottom. The ringing slap she had given him had been met with even more cheers. It had been a unique experience, and just like nearly everything that had happened to her since the teacher had opened up more of the Mansion for her, nobody seemed to follow the general rules of social grace.
In short, it had been a great evening.

And now she was here, hiding with over a hundred others, knowing that if they were found it would be the end of them. A handful had literally turned invisible, either through magic or other means, she did not know. Others preferred to hide. She had seen a few fellow students who had possessed wings take to the skies the moment they had cleared the doors of the mess hall. It was a valiant attempt and may have succeeded if they hadn't been caught by a large table overtaking them. What had happened with them after that, she didn't know. She was too busy running for her life. Of course, given her meagre physical abilities, she hadn't made it far before Evon had simply scooped her up and ran with her. Not in a graceful manner, oh no. He hadn't carried her like a princess. He had simply thrown her across his shoulder and sprinted as if the devil was hot on his heels. Which, in a way, he was.
Apparently the teacher didn't like it when people turned the mess hall upside down.
And apparently he expressed his displeasure in such ways that sent six hundred students, most of them very capable in magical arts or gifted with physical prowess, running for their lives.

So far, a hundred were still conscious and had now ceased moving all-together, after they discovered that the tables could be used as missiles and that no tree provided enough cover. Surprisingly enough, nobody had died. She whispered that to Evon, who smiled miserably at her.
"He'd never kill us. Honestly, he's not even angry. Look at those he caught," he whispered back.
He lifted himself a bit, letting her sneak out from underneath him. She crawled ahead, moving carefully to not get her dress stuck on the roots, and peeked from behind the trunk.

There were downed students everywhere! Their bodies littered the ground and the few that retained a sliver of consciousness were groaning in pain.
"Some of us are physically though, but there are plenty who study other subjects, like yourself. He hits everyone just hard enough to take us out. Bastard knows perfectly well what he's doing."
She thought about that for a moment. Then her eyes went wide as she caught the hidden meaning.
"You mean this is a game for him? This isn't new?"
"Welcome to the initiation. It happens every Lord damned time there's a new student. So we throw a party beforehand, eat and drink as much as we can, then he comes in, yells at us about something we've done wrong, and the game starts. We've even got pretty intense betting pools for how long someone will remain standing."
She paled a bit at that.
"How long someone will remain standing?"
"Oh yes," said a new voice that she connected to her impending doom. She and Evon jumped up, the latter far faster than she did, and looked up. Sitting lazily atop a branch a good dozen feet up was the teacher, calmly eating an apple with one hand. And holding a very large barrel of beer with the other.
"Oh no," said Evon, paling considerably.  He turned and made a run for it, and got an impressive two steps in before the barrel shattered against him and reduced him to a moaning pile of battered flesh.
"Lord, do I hate your guts at times, you son of a b—UGH!"
His tirade was interrupted as the teacher, who had jumped down from his position, landed neatly on his back. Given that Evon's body sank into the dirt a bit, and given how hard he felt when she had slapped him, she knew he was far heavier than he looked.

He stretched out an arm. "There's a lake over there. Deep, clean water, really good for swimming when the sun's out."
She blinked. He was alluding to something, but she had no clue what. Then he suddenly grabbed her and despite still not knowing what was going on, she suddenly became very certain that it was going to hurt.
"Right!" he shouted, loud enough for every conscious student to hear.
"In accordance with an age old tradition where we celebrate the arrival of a new student to our merry bunch, I will give little Melena here the honour of keeping a track of the time. So in other words, stay conscious until after she's done counting and you win."
He turned to her and gave her a wide grin, bending slightly through the knees and grabbing her tightly by her thighs. Suddenly she connected the dots between the water and the countdown and screamed. It didn't help one bit, and before the first 'no' had even properly left her mouth she was launched into the air. She didn't know how high it was, but she could very clearly see the large lake. The three parts of her mind panicked in every direction. A fall of that height would kill her, water or no. But, even that knowledge was put to the side by the very simple, yet overwhelming fact that she was FUCKING HIGH UP IN THE AIR. So she did what any reasonable sentient would have done in her place. She screamed. Loudly.

The air tore at her as she finally lost her upwards momentum and started sailing down, gaining speed as she went. At first she went slowly enough that she still could scream, but after a few seconds the wind pressure prevented her from drawing breath. She willed some control back over her limbs, wrestled with her blind panic, and forced herself to turn. It didn't help much, but at least she could breathe again. She saw her long hair trailing behind her, the morning sun illuminating the golden strands. The massive, unnatural forest seemed to spread to the horizon in every direction, and for the first time since her arrival she could see the full size of the Mansion. It was beyond massive, being far larger than most villages and nearing the size of a small city. It had all sorts of roofs, from solid white marmer, through thatched roofs to tiles in every colour imaginable. Then you had the massive rock it all disappeared into, as if the gargantuan boulder had simply rolled along and taken a bite out of the Mansion.

Then a flash of green went by her, before a demolishing pain struck her entire body and overwhelmed her consciousness, dragging it down into a very comfortable darkness.


She woke up a good time later in her own room, feeling perfectly fine. She went to the large window and looked out, and saw that the sun was high up in the sky. Roughly midday then. She walked towards the door and paused when she saw herself in the mirror. Her dress was immaculately clean and her hair had clearly been freshly combed. What had happened while she was out cold? Was it all a bad dream?
A knock on the door pulled her away from her thoughts.
"Come in!" she shouted.
Evon pushed open the door, looking just as healthy and normal as he always did. When he saw her standing in front of the mirror, he gave her a broad grin. It wasn't the lecherous kind that she had received so often, even if the dress was accentuating her features quite well. It was an honest, warm smile, even if it was full of mischief.
"Eyo lass! How're you feeling?"
"I'm... well. Thank you."
"Yeah, I don't believe a word of it. Lord above, he was kind enough to turn me around before he threw you up. You have no idea how high you went!" he said, laughing out loud.
"You turned into this teeny, tiny dot!"
Her cheeks flushed and she wasn't sure whether to be angry or embarrassed.
"Well, not like I could do anything about it!"
"Woo lass!" He brought his hands up in defense, even if he couldn't stop laughing entirely.
"I'm not saying that to cause offense. I honestly envy you, I'll take flying through the sky over being smashed into the ground by a barrel. And the fucker's not exactly a featherweight either."
She brought a hand up to her mouth, trying to hide her smile.
"Reckon he meant anything by it?" Evon went on, not paying much attention to her.
"Gee Evon, I think you like drinking a bit too much, so here's a barrel to slake your thirst! Or maybe he's suggesting I take up woodworking? Or maybe he looked at me and though 'Gee, if I have to take in students like him I'm really scraping the barrel!' Guy has a real weird sense of humour you know?"
Melena couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing. The way he was imitating the teacher was just too much. Evon continued, undisturbed by her outburst.
"Reckon that's why he chucked the table at the Rylak twins. They usually only eat what they like and leave anything behind. Funny way of saying 'sit back down and eat your food' though. I wouldn't say subtlety is the man's specialty but he sure gets the point across though."
She was bending over now, arms clutched against her stomach.
"And you should've seen him when he took out poor Devretta. Popped up out of nowhere behind the long ears and shouted so loudly that her eardrums burst on the spot. She always had a habit of eavesdropping, so I wager he wanted to make sure she heard everything this time," her old savior went on, relentlessly cracking jokes.
Tears ran down her cheeks and Evon finally relented.

"Okay lass, calm down now. Don't want you turning blue or purple or whatever colour it is people turn into these days."
It took her a while, but she eventually managed.
"Better?" When she nodded, he continued. "Good. Now listen 'ere. Since I'm the one who brought you in and you actually made it to the real school, well done on that again by the way, I'm your mentor to get you used to everything. Boss man doesn't have time for every bit of education, and you might notice that time has a rather askew affect on us when we start studying with him. Heard you're in for a revenge route so he'll probably rush you a bit more than some others, but even then he can't give you one on one lessons all the time, and group lessons are a rare thing, so instead we teach each other a lot. Everyone goes through certain basics though. And luckily enough for you, I'm in charge of basic physical education. Since you're the only newcomer we have at present that needs it, that means you'll get the privilege of having me call you a maggot all the time while we're training! Isn't that joyous!"

She shook her head. What he told her wasn't too unexpected. The teacher had explained to her how her days would look like. It wasn't strange, given that there were hundreds of students and the teacher was alone, and everyone, as she had noticed, was incredibly unique. Everyone had their own goals, study project, classes they followed, ambitions they chased after. It wasn't like the original school at all.
Evon left the room and motioned for her to follow.
"Right, so we'll have lunch first. Don't be surprised when you see who's cooking. He always does that after a welcoming. Maybe as a way to say 'no hard feelings for beating you all unconscious, ey?', but I can't say I can complain. Guy cooks well enough to make the beating more than worth it."
"I... The teacher cooks?" she asked incredulously.
"Oh aye, bugger's damn good at it too. Gotta listen to what I say lass," he responded with a wink.
"You'll notice that... well, common sense from the outer world doesn't have much business in these parts. For example, you laughed at everything I said back in your room, aye?"
She nodded and he continued on. "Thing is, they weren't jokes. Good amount of us is constantly roaming the world. Not all of us return. But when we do, and there's a newcomer, he gives us all a bit of crude advice in a rather comical way. Sure we're all hurt, but pain is... Well, pain. It's not that bad."
"Right... Ah! Evon! Speaking of pain, why—"
"Are you fine, am I fine, and is as you'll soon see, everyone fine?"
"Yes. I'm quite sure I shouldn't have survived that fall either. I'm not tough like you."
"Well gosh Mel, you keep complimenting me like that and I'll be blushing like a schoolboy in no time. Well, technically I am a schoolboy so go ahead really. Nah. You'll notice that it's one of his abilities, and boy does the man have plenty. I have absolutely no idea how he does it, given that the man doesn't have an ounce of magic in his body, but he can heal us all just fine. Reckon it's part of this spirit gig of his that he runs."

He stopped and placed a hand on her chest, forcing her to stop as well. She turned and looked up at him, and found him sternly looking at her.
"For all the jokes that I make, all the games that I play, our teacher, master, mentor, lord, however you wish to call him or whatever others call him, his strength is the real deal. He may not have magic, but as you can see he dominates all of us. I still don't know where his strength truly lies, and just like nearly everyone here, my knowledge only scratches the very tip of the iceberg where spirit is concerned, but that man? He masters it. And not knowing the limits of that grates on me more than you could know."

He kept the stern look on his face for a few moments more, until she nodded. It was disconcerting, Evon was nearly always happy-go-lucky, seeming to move without a care in the world, but now he was solemn and serious.

Then his face lit up and he looked like a young man again as his trademark smile returned to his face.
"But for now! Food! Lots of it! And like I said yesterday, congratulations on your promotion Mel! Welcome to the merry band that is us, and welcome to the Mansion!"

The two shared some more small talk as they went into the large mess hall and found the tables filled to the brim with empty dishes and a long queue leading to where the food was served. Evon took one look at the line and shook his head.
"Head of the party! Comin' through!" he shouted, pulling a surprised Melena with him as he simply charged into the line. Embarrassment flushed her face, but once again nobody seemed to mind and the flood of people easily parted to let the pair through. A sudden mouth-watering fragrance hit her like a wall and she became aware of an alarmingly large appetite. Evon picked up on it immediately and winked at her.
"Told ya the old one's a good cook!"
"And just who is it you're calling old, pipsqueak?" came the teacher's voice, cutting through the pleasant background noises of students chatting and the fire crackling in the stoves.
Evon turned to the teacher with a broad grin on his face and made a gesture she didn't know, but recognised as being very obscene.
"You of course! You ancient relic!" he countered.
"Ouch, how you wound me!" The teacher put a hand on his forehead and leaned back, feigning hurt.
"That's right! Realise your age grandpa and leave the present to the new generation!"
The teacher threw a quick wink at Melena before pulling a few honeycakes out of an oven.
"Right, time for me to realise my age. Going to monopolise these then, since they don't require much chewing."
Evon's smile faltered. "Hey now! That's not what I meant!"
"Oh have some compassion Evon! I'm old and decrepit and what-not. Don't have many teeth left, you know?"
"Oh come on! Those are my favourites!"
The teacher sunk his pearly white teeth into one and leered at Evon from over the crust.
"Well they're mine now," he responded with a mouth full of what Melena could smell was a pure delicacy.
Evon muttered darkly and stared at the ground, admitting defeat. The teacher winked at Melena again and slid a plate full of the honeycakes along the bar. A delighted Evon snatched them from it and he ran off with it, muttering thanks while cackling madly, repeating the word honeycakes over and over as if it were a mantra. Melena stared at his back as he went off, half running, half dancing.

"Poor girl," a cold voice whispered to her. A shiver ran through her back as a part of her mind wondered how a voice could be cold.
"Not even here for a full day and your mentor already ran off without you. Such is the power of honeycakes."
She turned towards the source of the sound and saw nothing, except for a slight discolouration.
"I'm here sweetie. Look closer."
She did and suddenly became aware of a dark shadow floating in front of her. She saw something extend from it and land on her head. She could swear she felt tiny layers of frost forming on her hair where the thing touched her. Then the thing left her head again, only to land a moment later, before repeating it. She blinked in surprise. Whatever the creature in front of her was, it was patting her on the head.
"Melena, meet Kreya. She's an old friend of mine and one of the eldest students here. She's a Krast. A ghost-like being. Gentlest woman you'll ever meet, and while her touch is cold, her heart is warm."
"Oh, ever the charmer, aren't you G?"
The teacher made an exaggerated bow.
"Ever at your service."
Kreya rewarded him with a cold laugh.
"And Kreya, this is Melena, the newest student. Managed to split her mind three-ways in but a few months time. Smart girl, if a bit shy."
"G, anyone you bring in here for the first time is 'shy'," laughed Kreya. The ghost like apparition turned to her.
"You ever need anything sweetie, come ask me. I've done plenty in my youth, I'm currently working here as caretaker and general manager. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to haunt Evon for abandoning you in the favour of honeycakes."

Melena watched the strange woman float off while trying to get a hold of things again. She thought she would have a handle on things now, that she would have at least adjusted to how quickly weird things happened around her, but no, they still floored her. She closed her eyes and started to count to ten. At seven she had to restart when Evon let out a scream and laughter erupted all around her. Once she hit ten, she felt a bit calmer and opened her eyes again, and found the teacher smiling softly at her as he expertly handled a huge pan full of eggs. She hadn't caught on to the size of the kitchen yet, but suddenly realised it was enormous and that he was the only one working, even though two dozen stoves were burning and several large ovens were lit and busy cooking. A broad aroma permeated the air around the entrance.
Despite all that, she didn't allow herself to be sidetracked again.
"G?" she asked, her golden eyebrows tilted in a frown.
"Stands for Gaelus." He bowed. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Older students quite often call me that."
"So your name is Gaelus?" she asked.
He gave her a mysterious smile. "I am Gaelus," he responded, his eyes twinkling as he said that. She felt a sudden flash of emotions that slipped from him, but it happened to fast that she couldn't place any of them.
"So you are strong enough to beat up six hundred students huh? Never figured you for the violent sort."
"Oh, I am a monster. Remember your colleague that assaulted you?" He grinned at her, flashing a lot of teeth.
"Violence is a means. One of many. Quite a simple and direct one, and easy to fall back to if there are significant differences in level, but like I said, it is but one out of many. Anyway, none of them fought back against me. It somehow became a tradition to run. Originally it was a fight, and then things were completely different."
"And the healing, how—" She shushed when he pressed a finger on her lips.
"As much as I'd love to chat, you are holding up the line." He gave her a broad grin that fit his strange, complicated character completely. And with twinkling eyes he concluded. "So pick your poison and get out."


A short time later Melena had successfully navigated her way to the table, juggling three plates at once, each laden to the brim with things that the teacher had suggested she must try. That'll teach her to ask for his opinion rather than formulating her own. She sat herself down next to Evon, who was frantically looking around as if the place was haunted. Given that she had passed a very pleased looking Kreya, who had been busy with a honeycake, she assumed it actually was.
When she ribbed her ellbow in Evon's side his first reaction was to shout out and cover his plate protectively.
"My hone— Oh, hello Melena. Sorry 'bout before by the way. It's just..." he paused to devour another one.
"I really don't get to eat these often and I am utterly and hopelessly addicted to 'em."
He looked sheepishly at her with a mouth full of cake.
"Sarry."
She gave him a smile and slapped him on the back of his head. Hard. He barely flinched and as his mouth was occupied with eating, he let his eyes smile with approval. He gulped the cake down.
"Glad to see you're fitting in."
"It's... Strange. The entire atmosphere feels so..." she gestured with her one hand, her other floating down to her plates.
"Relaxing? As if there's an outside force that makes this an incredibly pleasant place where you can easily kick back and enjoy the food?"
She nodded, took a bite, then closed her eyes as her full attention shifted on the heavenly taste.
"Unfair, isn't it? I don't know how he does it, but like I said, man's a damn good cook. Take your time, no need to talk much. I'll do the talking for the both of us." He threw another grin her way.
"You'll find that to be a common occurrence. Anyway, to answer your question, Kreya's partially responsible for it. The fact that the mess hall is just a pleasant place to be is another. Our lovely leader-man's very existence is another. He explained to you about his barriers? Well, He tends to let them down a bit here. And he is always happy when cooking, and that affects all of us. I'd tell more but—"
"That is more my job, wouldn't you say?" a cold voice interrupted as Kreya sat, or rather floated, herself down on the opposite side.
"What Evon is aware of and hesitates to say, and what most people here aren't even vaguely aware of, is just how strong G is," Kreya said with a voice that revealed her fondness for the teacher.
"Most students here realise that G is strong. Capable. Wise. Plenty of them think that they have an inkling of how strong he is, physically and in terms of Spirit. Others think that he is strong, but is also weak since he is incapable of using magic."
"He can't use magic?" an incredulous Melena interrupted.
She felt Kreya's sad smile more than she saw it, given that the Krast lacked a visible mouth.
"Not traditional magic, nor..." She fell silent when Evon gave a sharp shake of the head.
"Right, types of magic is for another type. But no, he cannot. Some think him weak for that. Evon, however, has a rare talent. He has a very good eye. He can spot talent and ability in people like some others can, but he has a true godly eye when it comes to seeing potential. And what he really loathes to admit is what he sees when he looks at G. What far too few students realise and what, if the truth got out, would end this damned business with all the factions in one blow." Kreya's voice was full of anger at the end and a thin layer of frost formed around the place where she sat at.
"Don't say it, please. I don't like to think of it. I don't like to know of it," Evon whispered, quietly. He seemed distraught, which worried Melena, but she was curious for the truth now.
"What is it?" she asked.
Evon quietly shook his head.
Melena looked at Kreya, who shook her head as well and pointed back at Evon. Silence filled the air between the trio as Melena awaited an answer with bated breath, until she realised none was forthcoming.
She brought her lips to his ear and whispered in her most seductive voice.
"Evon..."
It shook him out of his stupor and he tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued.
"I will trade you my honeycakes for the answer."

Evon turned around and from the look on his face, she could tell he was actually contemplating the offer. She gave him her broadest smile and tried her best to look cute. It wasn't something she was accustomed to, but it just felt right at this moment. She knew it was probably the teacher's influence getting to her, but she realised that she didn't really mind. It wasn't mind control, not really, and there was no harm in it.
He relented. He let out a deep sigh and looked at the still cooking teacher and as soon as his eyes landed on the man he shrunk in on himself, then looked away again as quickly as he could manage. Without another word he started scavenging Melena's honeycakes. He ate one. Then another. Then a third, before sighing deeply.
"Have you ever played with ants as a kid? Toyed with them? Gave them crumbs, or stomped on their nest?"
"I have. I used to play like that with my brother."
"Have you ever imagined how you appeared to those ants?"
Melena fell silent. She started connecting the dots.
"Smart girl," Kreya whispered.
"So you are saying..." she started. Evon nodded sadly.
"If I follow your analogy..." Her mind raced along with the words. She understood Evon's distaste of it. She had rewarded or crushed the ants without a care, her actions only dictated by her whims, and the ants had been powerless to do anything about it. She looked at the teacher, a man she had trusted with her life, who had taken her in and sheltered her, had protected her and educated her, and was actively raising her so she could accomplish her deepest desires. A pleasant, powerful, intelligent, wealthy, attractive and kind man. Who also had a monstrous side. Who had done all of it on a whim.
"We are the ants," she concluded with a strangled voice.

"Tsk," Kreya interjected.
"That's overkill. It's true that we are ants in terms of strength, but that's not to say he'll just suddenly go mad and start squashing us. You went through the induction with him yes?"
"The induction?"
"Steam bath. Lure your Spirit out. You know. That delightful experience," Evon added absentmindedly, having returned his focus to his beloved honeycakes.
"Oh. That," replied Melena, taking care to keep her facial expression set to neutral. Several sets of emotions were still warring inside of her in regards to that event.
Kreya laughed. It was a warm sound, but still sent a chill down her spine.
"Ah, I still remember my own induction. Must have been well over two thousand years ago."
Melena's mouth dropped open.
"Two thousand years? Your kind lives for that long?" she squeaked.
"What? No! My lifespan should have ended after roughly half a millennia! Hasn't Evon told you?"
She shook her head.
Kreya shot a glare at Evon that bounced off his cake-induced trance.
"When you pick up studying with G, you pretty much stop aging. As in, boom, done. No more getting older. Why do you think he fancies determined students over anyone else? With time aplenty, that trait is key to a constant advancement. Mind you, most students leave after a while and only rarely come back. A lot of us die out in the field as well. For all our strength and ability, the world is a dangerous place and when you spend too much time here, that is a thing all too many forget."
"I... He hinted at it, but to stop aging all together..."
Kreya somehow conveyed the gesture of her raising her hands, despite lacking said appendages.
"Girl, I can't explain how. His abilities far, far exceed anything I know. I'm the oldest student here present, but if you want answers to that you'll have to ask others. There are students that are older than me, and the faction leaders, may maggots nestle in their rectums, are among the eldest."
Evon shrugged, polishing off the last of the cakes.
"I wasn't joking when I said that you can kiss common sense goodbye. Several dozen races, hundreds of students, a Mansion the size of a city, abilities that range from mundane to godlike, and underneath that, sitting at the centre of this massive web is the big spider that nobody understands doing it all for reasons that nobody could even fathom, while still influencing it all."

Melena raised her hands and pushed herself back from the table. Kreya and Evon shared a look. It wasn't the first time that a student became overwhelmed when the realisation of just how weird and unnatural their new surroundings were. They obliged the new girl by giving her the time and space she needed as her mind raced over the new influx of information.
Melena used the time well. Her body was on autopilot, steadily eating simple foods that had no business tasting as good as they did, and the other three parts of her mind were working in parallel, chaining sequences of thoughts as fast as they could and supplying her with meagre explanations for her new situation.
It didn't make sense, but at this point things not making sense was a very normal thing. She accepted those under the idea as 'presently unknown' and let her thoughts roam further. A lot of things that the teacher had said earlier now made a lot more sense. Things she had overlooked before were now clear. She chuckled when she realised that the man had thrown so much information at her that it'd probably take her another lifetime before she would connect all the dots.

"So if I understand it all correctly, what the two of you are saying..." she trailed off, taking another bite of a pastry filled with something that reminded her of purple berries and heaven. "Is that I should stop caring about the small things, and enjoy life while it lasts, which is a long time?"
Kreya burst out laughing and a chilly breeze blew Melena's long hair back.
"That is a very commendable attitude, and honestly probably the best option. Anyway lass, it was really pleasant to make your acquaintance, but I have chores to attend. First and foremost will be haunting G to clean up when he's done. He likes to sneak out on that and I need to be quick if I want to keep him from doing a runner. Have fun you two!"
The Krast floated away from the bench and seemed to disperse.
"Damn it's hard to keep track of her," Evon commented, shaking his head.
Melena smiled. This place was home now. The contant bantering and bickering, the atmosphere, the new confidence she had that was undoubtedly a side effect from lounging near the teacher, all of it warmed her heart. The Mansion had been a shelter before, but now it was so much more than that. She gave Evon a bright laugh when she caught him looking at her, and she knew he understood when he smiled broadly at her in turn. He reached out and patted her on the shoulder.
"Welcome home lass."


A good meal and more small talk later, Melena was tagging along with Evon into the forest, on a way to a nearby clearing with a small waterfall. Evon had promised the scenery to be picturesque, as well as being a secluded spot where he could start her physical training in earnest. He was currently being his usual weird self by refusing to let his feet touch the ground and walking on his hands instead.
"So what is this about factions that Kreya kept mentioning?"
"Ah. Piqued your interest the ol' gal did with that story, did she?" he responded. Melena realised that the man was a lot more uncouth in private.
"It has."
"Good! Curiosity's a great trait! Step lightly though, it kills. Anyway, there's a few factions in the Mansion. There's people that are very protective of our good ol' leader man. Think the bugger needs protection from the evil and all's that not right in the world. Bunch of idiots is what they are. Honestly. As if the bloke needs to be kept safe from the world. Other way's around more damn likely. Anyway, that's one group. Usually the factions are filled with the older students and the more afoot ones. Travelling sort, they are. Most students in the Mansion at present aren't too fond of combat. Hence why he keeps trouncing us so easily. When my welcoming happened the group actually made a stand."
"How did that go?"
"Oh, absolutely horrible. He put out decoys all over the place and scrambled with everyone's ability to sense things. We were all blindly attacking one another thinking they were the boss man. I don't think the man lifted a finger that day."
He sighed deeply and scratched his chin, looking perfectly at ease with the movement. Given that it meant he had to support himself with only one arm, it spoke volumes about Evon's physical strength.
"Honestly, a lot of idiots thought that meant they were stronger than him in terms of combat ability, and that if it weren't for boss man's Spirit, they could handle them. Which leads us to the second faction, those who aren't happy with what the big man teaches. They want more. They want what he owns. They want the Mansion, to enter the restricted zones, and to know what goes on in his head. They're at odd with the first faction, often violently so. The clashes never happen close to home, but they do happen and they're probably the main cause while people don't return. Then there's a third faction, that just wants to be taught and tries to stay away from the politics."
Melena pondered it in silence, a deep frown marring her beautiful face. It seems that even in this idyllic location, human nature and greed were still well and truly alive.
"What faction are you in?"
Evon spat in response.
"I'm in neither. Some consider us a fourth faction but unlike the other three who have an actual structure in place, we  do not give a Kraft's arse."
"A... What?"
"Kraft's arse! You saw Kreya! Lass is made of shadows! She don't have one!"
"I don't follow!"
"Lord yer being daft! She doesn't have an arse! So if I can't be bothered to give an arse of a being who doesn't have one in the first place, how much do ya think I actually care?"
"Oh," Melena responded, feeling very, very dumb.
"Right. Anyway, we're the group that don't care about politics. Unlike the third, who band together to keep themselves from being dragged into the other two, who can be very active about recruiting, we're a loose group. No ties, no ranks, no anything. Mind you, we'll protect our daft leader man to the death if it so required, but the key part that binds us together?" His voice dropped to a stage whisper.
"We know we don't need to. There's only a handful of students that might give him some trouble from those I know, although there's one that is supposed to be his favourite and near equal, but I'm not buying that rumour. And anyway, those students are so firmly on his side that attacking him would be a complicated and messy way to commit suicide. And I like honeycakes a bit too much to get myself killed that way."
"Is that why Kreya's so annoyed with the factions?"
"She and I share the same opinion lass. Factions are a waste of time and their members are a bunch o' twats that dinnae the world works. Fried bastards's the lot's what they are. Ho'est, cair kwai—"
"Evon!"
"Aye?"
"What in the Lord's name are you saying?"
"I... What?"
Melena, by now aware that shooting the man a death glare was rather ineffective at her level, resorted to but one means out of many, to quote her teacher, and violently stomped on his fingers.
"Either you switched languages or you had a stroke or something, because you were speaking gibberish."

Evon laid flat on the ground, massaging his hurt fingers.
"I'll have you know that I am perfectly capable of mimicking this arse-puckered pile of horse shit that you call a language, but if I want to swear a blue streak I'll much prefer doing it in my native tongue, thank you very much. You weren't missing much."
Melena considered stomping him again, before relenting.
"Fine. Fair enough."
"Anyway, clearing's over there!" Evon pointed, changing the subject. Melena looked and saw what he meant. Now that Evon was quiet for a moment, she could hear the waterfall as well.
"Remember what I said earlier?" her mentor asked as he got up. He suddenly had a dangerous grin on his face.
Melena ransacked her brain for the answer, and paled as she recalled his words.
"RUN YOU MAGGOT!" he screamed, a fireball forming in his hand.
Melena didn't retort and ran as if her life depended on it.

She regretted not stomping him a second time.

"You're keeping quite a close eye on her, G. You haven't done that in a long while," Kreya commented as she whisked the dirty dishes of a table and into the kitchen.
"Am I now?" came the amused response as Gaelus gracefully caught them and dunked them in the water.
"Oh come now. I may not be able to see where that tendril of Spirit is going, but I'm not an idiot. You're watching them right now!"
Gaelus smiled and fished the clean plates out, putting them on the kitchen counter to let them dry.

Kreya watched the man she had followed for over two millennia and shook her head. She knew him better than most, and she knew very little of him. Still, she had picked up a few things after many years of observation.
"Is it because she wants revenge?"
Silence. Kreya smiled.
"Familiar topic for you?"
She didn't flinch when he grabbed her using his Spirit. The plates she had been holding with her magic dropped to the floor, but didn't shatter. Like everything else in the Mansion, they were tough.
"Spot on, aren't I?"
The hold tightened and her smile broadened.
"Feeling suicidal today, Kreya?"
"You won't harm me."
"Oh really?" came the response with a sliver of ice in there. If she had been human, she'd have paled, but her physical body didn't have that ability.
"Well, you won't kill me at least."
"Oh really?" Amusement this time.
"Yes. I do too good a job of managing this pig-sty," she countered. He laughed and his hold faded. She smiled to herself, but it was weaker now. The man was impossibly strong and she damn well knew he hadn't used even a fragment of what he had at his disposal.
"Why are you so interested in what drives me anyway?"
Kreya started laughing. It was a loud, full sound that caused frost to form on the plates she was still sending into the kitchen, causing Gaelus to curse as he fumbled trying to catch them, which caused Kreya to laugh even more. As if the man wasn't aware that the main hobby of every student was trying to figure out what motivated the man who taught them. That, and his past.
"But if you must know, then yes, I find the desire for revenge a good thing. It is always tightly intertwined with anger. The cold, calm kind, that you have to swallow and master. The kind that keeps you motivated and permits you to strive after a goal no matter how harsh and painful the way there."
He paused and looked at her. His eyes twinkled with emotions she could not place and she was fairly certain she did not want to.
"You could say I'm intimately familiar with that."
He looked down again and Kreya let out a sigh of relief.
"As were you once, as I seem to recall. When you found out about me and came knocking on my door, wounded, hurt, screaming and begging for my aid."
Kreya shivered as she recalled the memories. She gingerly touched the long gone wounds.
"You're not distracting me this time, G," she countered, and hated that her voice wavered slightly as she said it. Her past had not been a happy one.

"Then yes. I am keeping an eye on them. Currently Evon is making good on his promise and is using the word maggot with an impressive frequency, really. Melena's doing the usual newbie routine. Screaming, running, sweating. She's not begging for him to stop though. Although I'm not entirely sure whether that is because she understands the use of it all, knows it would be of no use anyway, or because she simply lacks the necessary breath to do so."
He tilted his head sideways, listening more closely.
"Then again, given how much she is screaming I think we can safely rule out the third option. Good girl. Determined to get even at all costs. I like people with a fiery spirit."
Kreya sighed and shot three tables worth of plates at him in one go. To her annoyance he caught all of them with ease, without having to rely on his Spirit.

"You know that it's bad form to peep on girls?"
This time he laughed. It was a joyful sound, full of life. It resonated through the kitchen and boomed into the mess hall.
"Kreya, I think you are quite possibly the least qualified person to lecture me about ethics." She felt his eyes on her and knew he was giving her one of those damned annoying smug half smiles.
"Remember Alurana? Beautiful city, wasn't it? Such a shame you couldn't hold your temper."
Kreya floated off further into the mess hall, chastised. Gaelus smiled at her as she went.
He shook his head and sighed deeply. Messing with her was fun, but he missed his favourite student. One who could really be called the odd one out. He needed her far more than anyone knew. She was pivotal in his plans. Another thing nobody knew and only a handful suspected. But, lacking her presence, he made do with other things. Luckily enough another source of entertainment was nearby, and currently attempting a very brave and equally foolhardy thing. After Melena had botched a dodge, Evon's fireball had set her hair on fire, and the girl had not exactly responded well to that.


Evon fell to the ground, clutching his groin in pain. He had been laughing so hard he had completely underestimated Melena's very limited combat ability, and had received a solid kick to the unmentionables as a result. That had hurt, and had been completely fair. Her stomping on him when he was down on the ground? That hadn't been fair and Melena had, after seeing the look in his eyes, made the wise decision to run, not as if her life depended on it. Oh no. That had been earlier. This time, her life did depend on it.

She managed to cross the clearing, which Evon had to admit, was an impressive feat given how tired she was. Then his sword nailed her in the leg. She went down, screaming. An obvious thing really, the lass wasn't used to pain yet. No matter, that'd come. It was a clean wound as far as they went. He had thrown the sword in a straight line and had avoided her arteries. Now he was coming up to her and his anger was radiating off him. He was furious and despite his limited grasp on Spirit compared to the owner of the Mansion, he was still a powerful contender amongst humans.

"Well Melena, lil' lass, care to tell me what that was about?"
She tried to crawl away, realised that was utterly futile, and turned around, facing him. She winced in pain as she turned, but faced him with more determination than he had guessed. Given that she wasn't screaming anymore, he figured she had tasked one part of her mind with that task, then isolated it, leaving the other two parts free.
"You burned my hair!" she yelled. She chose to stand her ground. Admirable, really. So he stepped on her foot and broke it. She started screaming again. He ignored it and retrieved his sword, widening the cut as he pulled it out. It didn't take her too long before her screaming stopped again. If he hadn't been in full on instructor mode, he would have smiled and complimented her. As it was...
"Nobody here, lil' lass, gives a singular crap about your hair." He pulled her up by her arm until she was hanging from his hold and was pleased to see the determination underneath thick layers of pain and fear.
"You hurt your instructor. Bad move lass." He dropped her and before she could hit the ground, he kicked her hard, breaking six ribs if he had to take a guess. He was fairly certain he was right. This time the screams were something else. He had been kind. He had avoided the ribs covering her lungs.
"Well lass, reckon that settles the training for today. You're too broken now to be of any use to me. Time to drag you home. Oh, one more thing though."

His sword flashed through the air and sliced through her hair, nicking the back of her head in the process. The long, golden strands fell to the ground and she was left with only a short fuzz. He sheathed his sword and gingerly picked her up. He used his arm to support her and placed his free hand on her chest, sending a soothing stream of magic into her. He couldn't heal her broken bones, and didn't want to either, but it was enough to alleviate her pain to something more bearable.
She started to cough and he immediately tilted her on her side, letting her freely cough up clots of blood without running the risk of her choking on it.
"Well lass, shame it had to go that way. You know, you held your ground pretty damn well. I'm impressed. Genuinely impressed. You got balls of steel, y'know that?"
Melena groaned in response.
"Aye, reckon you're full of pain now. Reckon you got a damn good fright too. But not to worry, you ain't going to get killed. Pain is part of the process. It's unpleasant, but you need to build up a good resistance against it. Very unpleasant lesson, but it's temporary and your mind will adapt to that idea after a while. There's limits, of course, enough pain shatters that. Like your kick did. Boom, no more self control and down I went. Seeing it coming helps a lot." He shook his head and ruffled her short hair.
"I didn't cut that off to piss you off either. I can imagine how much your hair means to you, and you'll find that regrowing it isn't too much of a task. Even I can do it. Anyway, don't talk back to me again when I'm in instructor mode though. Doesn't end well. You can banter with me as much as you want outside of it, but when I'm training it, I say jump, you jump." A battered Melena looked up at him and realised that his stern voice clashed with the worry in his eyes. She groaned in response.
"No harsh feelings?"

Part of her wanted to give him an angry stare, ignore him or just tell him to go to hell, but that would be petty and despite being hurt all over and him being the direct cause of it, she didn't want to be that. For one, he didn't deserve that, he was only doing his job, but for another she didn't want to become a person like that. She doubted that her teacher would approve of that, and she couldn't shake off the deep desire of not wanting to disappoint him.
"I'll abstain from putting you on my to kill list. For now."
Evon laughed and ruffled her all too short hair.
"That's the spirit lass!" shouted her eccentric and mad mentor. "Now let's go back to the Mansion. Lunch time's nearing and there might be a few honeycakes left over."

Melena didn't know when she had blacked out on the way back, but she knew it had happened at one point. It was quite easy to tell, because she had no recollection of her having gone back into the Mansion, much less of her arriving at a worryingly large hall that she easily recognised as an infirmary. She wondered if this was a room where people who trained their medical skills practised on the wounded. A motion in the corner of her eyes caught her attention and she saw a blueish, lithe form dance from table to table, searching through bottles and pots that undoubtedly contained medical herbs. The moment she turned her head to take a better look at the strange creature, it responded. It turned surprisingly quickly given that it looked like it would float off any moment. Melena was met with two large, crystal blue eyes that seemed to dissect her in an instant. Then the calculating look was gone, replaced with care. The long, thin creature stepped closer to her and folded out her arm. Only then did Melena realise that the limbs of the creature were twice as long as her own, and were bent in three places. Also it had hooves at the end of its legs rather than feet. She had the faint idea that she should be surprised, but given the past few days, meeting a strange creature just didn't cut it anymore.

"Good evening. I hope you slept well?" came a definitely male voice. It was soothing, calm and filled to the brim with magic. The man's touch was beyond gentle as his hand touched her chest, which she suddenly realised was bare. She reached out for the blanket covering her and hurriedly pulled it up as her cheeks flushed. The man laughed.
"Oh, not to worry. Your kind and mine do not really share the same ideas in what we consider sexual or attractive."
"And what would you find attractive then?" she asked, blinking in surprise when her mind caught up with her mouth. Lord above, what kind of question was that?
"Strange, I wouldn't expert your mind to be jumbled," the creature responded, moving his hand from her chest to her head. She saw a faint blueish light appear and felt something warm spread through her forehead, before it dissipated equally quickly.
"No, no concussion, then why... Ah, of course. You are the newcomer, are you not? No wonder you are confused. I am sorry, it is sometimes hard for me to keep track of everyone. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Liriras, a Slivir'i. I'm a student of the biological arts. And to answer your earlier question, my kind is very much attuned to magic, and therefore the physical forms that you humans find endearing are mundane to us. We do not show off with our bodies, but with magic instead." His mouth twisted into a smile and she noticed that aside his blue skin and far larger eyes, he still looked somewhat human in appearance. "Some people refer to these as light shows. Personally I find that term rather amusing. Anyway, lest we become distracted, let me inform you as to what you were brought in for, and what I have treated so far."

He moved to pull down the blanket, but Melena resisted and even in her weakened, untrained state, she somehow kept him from pulling it down. If this annoyed Liriras, he did not show it. He smiled at her instead and then his eyes lit up slightly as his magic grabbed hold of her hands and forced her fingers to let go. Gently. Then he pulled the blanket down. As he turned his attention back towards his patient, Melena saw how the blanket started floating, was magically folded and was whisked into a nearby cupboard. Part of her mind wondered how she could tell it was magic and not Spirit, but the other parts of her quickly reminded her that those questions would be answered later. Probably.

"When Evon brought you in, you had, in order of severity, six broken ribs, a deep... is cut the right word? Yes, cut. A deep cut in your right leg with an exit wound on the other end. The exit wound was smaller than the entry one, but as cuts go it was clean. You also had minor burn wounds on your back, as well as a minor cut on the back of your head. For the ribs, I applied a spell that will keep your loose bone fragments in place. Before you will be allowed to leave, I will bandage up that area. You will retain your ability to move freely with them, but the pain will remain and due to the bandages you will be less able to breathe in freely. I would have done more, but I was told not to. For the cut, I have reconnected the veins and muscles that were damaged, then closed the wound itself. From that, you will not suffer any hindrances. It is back to how it was beforehand. For your burn wounds, I have applied an ointment. I would list the ingredients, but I honestly know not their names in this language. And you would not understand mine. I mean no offence, but you are not magically gifted enough to understand me. I cleaned the wound first, of course. There were some remnants of your clothes in there. You will find that there is a dressing atop your burns, to keep it from disinfecting. Once again the pain will remain, but as long as you do not forcefully remove the dressing, it will heal nicely without any scars. Lastly, I disinfected the cut on the back of your head. Further treatment was not needed. It was but a shallow wound with only some minor, superficial damage. Your cranial structure and your cervix were not harmed. Refrain from scratching it when it will itch, and it shall heal nicely and swiftly. You have a good body. Do take care to maintain it."

Melena blushed at the last statement, catching on too late that he was not referring to her in a sexual manner. Lord but it was hard to adjust to some things. Now that she thought about it, ever since she had started being a real student, nobody had thrown a lecherous look her way. It was soothing in a way she had never realised. Even her friends from before, whenever they thought she couldn't see, had thrown such looks her way.
She jumped up from her daydreams when she realised Liriras was awaiting an answer. The man had a peculiar, formal way of speaking, but given that he hadn't fully mastered the language they were conversing in, that wasn't strange. He clearly knew what he was doing, but she couldn't help but feel that something about his smile was off.
"Is... Something bothering you?"
His smile became genuine.
"I thank you for your concern. I do not like letting patients leave my care while they are still in pain."
"I'm not in pain though," Melena countered. Now his smile turned condescending.
"That will only last until you try to move. I suggest you do not, until others come to fetch you."
She nodded, realising she shouldn't talk back to someone who probably had been healing people for longer than she had been alive for.
"Is there a reason you can't heal me fully then?"
"As always, there is. The master believes that when people are undergoing the basic phical... No, that is not right. Phycal? Physal?"
"Physical?" Melena ventured.
"That is the word, thank you. Physical training. The master wants those people to learn how to endure pain. I think he is completely wrong in that aspect, but as in all things, I must obey him. Your mentor, Evon, has asked me to alleviate as much of it as I was allowed to, and tried to persuade me to do a bit more."
Liriras' large eyes focused on her and she shifted slightly under the intense stare.
"He is quite careful with you, you know? He asked me to heal you properly. That he would take the blame for any consequences when the master found out."
"When? Not if."
That condescending smile again!
"Yes. When. I believe you shall not see him again until tomorrow. Evon is currently having a chat with the master about bending the rules, I believe. I have already prepared a bed for him. I have a feeling I will see him soon."

Melena felt a stab of guilt at that. She had kicked him rather indelicately despite that the man was only doing his job. He had saved her, brought her here, was guiding and training her, and she hadn't exactly been grateful in return. Even now, he had stuck his neck out for her. Given how frightened he was of the teacher, that really spoke volumes. She quietly vowed herself to do better next time, and to keep a better lid on her anger. Her hair would grow back after all. She just hoped that Evon would be alright.


Evon wished he could disappear, because he very much doubted being dead would save him from the man's wrath.
"You went against my orders, Evon," came his voice with a tired sigh. "You know that I really don't like that."
"Well, sir, you see, I didn't go exactly against them," Evon countered, wringing his hands. He wished he had a better level of self control over his body, but as it was he was sweating buckets, despite the room being cold.
"Oh really now?" Gaelus kept his voice carefully neutral and gave the man in front of him an inquisitive glare. "Do elaborate."
"Well, sir, I... I didn't ask Liriras to take away all the pain, sir. Only a bit more. She's... well, she's not used to it yet sir, and well, her performance was admirable. She held her ground well, sir. I felt she deserved, maybe, a bit of a reward for it."
"Oh really now?" he repeated, his voice becoming colder. Evon gulped.
"And in what way was her performance admirable?"
"She, well, she fought back sir."
"You are hiding something from me. Do you really think that is wise?" Nothing in Gaelus' tone had changed, but the wood started creaking as the man started emitting a powerful pressure. Evon struggled to stay upright. Why had he phrased it that way? Idiot that he was!
"She, err, sir... She kicked me in the crotch. Then again when I was down."
"Ah." The pressure disappeared. "And then you threw her sword at her, I presume, and broke several of her ribs?"
"Yes sir. And she remained defiant every step of the way."
"And because she was defiant, you wanted to be defiant as well?"
"I... No sir. I... I don't know why—"
"Then think. Don't play coy Evon. You can split your mind seven-ways, for crying out loud!" Gaelus shouted. Evon blinked and his mind raced. The man might be so far above him that he couldn't compare, but he still had some habits that Evon had discerned. One of them was his preferred vocabulary. If he wasn't using terms such as bloody or other words related to it, then he was actually very calm as opposed to agitated. Which meant that, if he thought really hard, he might actually survive this little chat. Relatively unharmed at least.
"She's a kindred spirit, sir. She hates cages as much as I do. I think that's what I find so endearing about her. Why I wanted to shield her a bit."
"Do you know what happened on the day she achieved her three-way split, Evon?"
"I... Sir?" he responded, thrown off by the non sequitur.
"She was assaulted by another student. Son of a rich noble, you know the sort. Hit her, threw her around, started choking her. Calm yourself man, the boy broke all three rules in the end."
Evon paled. When he was a student of that level, someone had broken two. Those screams still gave him nightmares from time to time. He didn't even want to imagine what happened to someone who broke all three.
"At any rate, do you understand my point?"
Another subject hop. His mind raced to get itself back on track, then draw a reasonable conclusion.
"No sir, I'm afraid not," he admitted. It got him a smile, to his surprise.
"She did not cry. She did not weep. She let it happen, knowing she could not fight it. She resigned herself to it, physically, and retreated mentally. She is a lot tougher than you assume she is."

Gaelus stood up and poked Evon in the chest.
"Don't underestimate her again. Let her hurt. Let her suffer. It will make her tough. A revenge route is not an easy thing. It requires more control than you can imagine. She must learn to calm the storm in her heart, lest it consume her when the time draws neigh. So, my dear boy, stop fucking about with your own feelings and do the damn job I assigned you to do. You're to bring her to a basic level of fitness and combat capability. She's on a bloody revenge route, she doesn't have the time for you to take it easy on her. Make her life hell. She's smart enough to understand it all. She's not like your previous student. That man might have been a genius, but he was a blood clot in an artery when it came to actually using his damned mind. Stop feeling guilty for him and think about just who you are dealing with. I suggest you set up a romantic date or some other nonsensical excuse so you can look deep into her eyes so you can see just what lies in there! You're dismissed."
"I... what?" Evon looked up, visibly confused.
"Dis!" Gaelus began, taking a short step over to Evon. The man didn't have time to brace himself before a powerful kick send him out of the room and into the hallway.
"Missed!"


"A romantic date?" came Kreya's voice from the ceiling. "Are you going soft?"
"Listen you old hag, I don't remember there being any rules about me having to be some kind of cold, uncaring monster."
"You've been called worse, you know?"
"Keep it up and you're about to find out why they called me that."
She smiled. They were empty threats and they both knew it.
"So what's the real reason then? If you would be so kind as if to tell me?"
"Not yet. You'll see. It's for the good of both of them in the long run." Gaelus walked to a nearby chair and dropped into it.
"Evon's progress has been barred for far too long. So I figured I'd just give him a hand."
Kreya performed the impressive feat of arching an eyebrow at him without having them and Gaelus relented.
"And maybe, just maybe, I would like to see him squirm."

Evon walked into the infirmary absentmindedly rubbing his chest. It hurt and he knew that he was nursing several bruised ribs, but given how most conversations with the boss went after you broke his rules, it was already quite unusual that he was still able to walk. This was obvious by how Liriras arched his eyebrows and walked over to him. It was more of a sliding step than actual walking though. Damned magical lightweights.
"You are in a far superior condition than I had expected you to arrive in, Evon," Liriras commented.
"Get stuffed, will ya." Evon didn't like the man. He was good at his job, but he just didn't like him.
"I see your mental capacities have not been impaired either. Although given how you are currently walking I am assuming you took a minor form of blunt trauma to the chest. Several bruised ribs, no doubt. Eight, if I am not mistaken."
"You might damn well be. Now tell me where my student is and get the hell out."
"So uncouth. You are aware that there are no logical reasons for your hostility and that you are acting quite aggressively in a place meant for healing?"
Evon responded with an angry huff and putting his hand on his sword. If the bugger wasn't going to get lost right there and then...

As soon as Evon's hand landed on the sword's handle, the air around Liriras started to crackle.
"Evon. You are in the infirmary. Draw that I will have a valid reason to forcefully remove you." Liriras' eyes turned a darker shade of blue and he had gone from his usual serene look to being positively hostile.
Evon considered it. Really considered it. His own magical abilities were lacking and no matter how good a swordsman he was, if Liriras went full out he'd be dead in a moment. Actually dead. Liriras didn't particularly care about Gaelus' rules when it came to people acting up in what he had claimed as his sanctuary. That it was Gaelus' infirmary and not his often escaped the bugger's mind. He wasn't too sane in that aspect. Angering Gaelus was a very stupid action to take, even if he was guilty of it himself.
Then again... It was unlikely that the Slivir'i would go all out given the damage a full on battle would cause. He contemplated both actions until coming to a decision. His shoulders sagged and he loosened his grip.
"True. Anyway. You might actually help me with some mental healing in that regard."
Liriras' anger faded away instantly. He slid closer to Evon, his eyes wide and curious.
"Oh truly? I will assist you most gladly." His eyes narrowed and he corrected himself. "Gladly assist you. I must admit to being curious. You usually are incredibly reluctant when it comes to accepting my help, even when it concerns mere physical wounds. You have never before accepted my offer to aid your wounded mind."

If Liriras had been as familiar with human body language as he was with the body, he might have seen it coming. Instead, when Evon punched him with every ounce of strength he could muster, the Slivir'i was caught unaware and was sent flying into the nearby wall, staying glued to it for a brief moment before collapsing into the ground.
Evon grinned madly.
"That was so damned therapeutic. Really needed that. Thanks a lot."

Still laying on the bed, her head half turned, Melena had witnessed the entire exchange curiously.
"Seems uncalled for," she commented.
Evon jumped in surprise at hearing her voice, as if he hadn't expected her there. He looked slightly ashamed and didn't look her in the eyes, staring at her bare body for a moment before briskly moving to cover it with a blanket.
"Well, it was. Uncalled for I mean. Guy does a good job but I can't stand him. Can't say I know why precisely, just that I have this unholy urge to beat him every colour of the rainbow every time I see his blue face. Anyway, how are you?"
"What do you think?" she hissed, a minor bit of accusation sneaking into her voice. She relented instantly.
"No, I'm sorry. All things considered I'm quite good. He did a good job of patching me up. To the extent I was allowed at least, apparently. And then a bit more. Thank you for that, by the way. And I'm sorry about kicking you in..." she coughed, looking in the opposite direction.
"No harm done. Let's get you out of here. Get some food in you. I..." He trailed off, unable to ask her to let him look into her eyes. Gaelus had made it look so easy, dammit. Melena turned to look at him, curiosity winning out over her feelings of shame. He met her eyes for a brief moment before looking away, shaking his head.
"Nevermind. Up you go."
"Wait what are you—Evon!" she shrieked as the man indelicately picked her and the blanket up, threw her over his shoulder and walked off. Previous decision to be nicer to him forgotten, she screamed and trashed wildly, hammering her fists down on his back. He responded in his usual manner by slapping her hard on her rear and telling her to pipe down. She swallowed down her next scream and saved her breath.
"You arsehole! Get your shoulder of my damned ribs!"
Evon froze instantly and had the decency to turn red in shame.
"Oops," he whispered, immediately sliding her off his shoulders and holding her in a princess carry instead. He met her eyes rather guiltily and was taken aback by the roaring anger that was blazing brightly in them. This time he didn't look away. He locked her eyes in place and looked deeply into hers. From the corners of his eyes he saw her turning red, but she refused to look away as well, her anger making her hold firm.


It felt like an eternity passed before Evon looked away and Melena wasn't sure how she felt about it. She was furious at him, in some ways, mostly because him casually throwing her onto his shoulder had frigging hurt! If it had been done with a purpose she might, keyword being might, have not minded too much, but he had plain and simply, stupidly forgotten. The look they had shared had felt invasive, but pleasantly so in some ways. She knew the Mansion was messing with her in more ways than one and she started to suspect there might be some physical influences at work as well, even if she had not the faintest idea how that could be pulled off. She idly wondered if that influence was to blame for the strange mixture of emotions she felt the entire time. They had definitely spiked during that short interaction.
She had the impression that Evon had been searching for something when he had looked at her, but had no clue what. She idly wondered what he had been looking for. Then she looked up at him and saw a mix of awe and wonder in there and for some reason it ticked her off.


Evon slowly shook his head as he continued walking towards the mess hall, before redirecting himself towards her room. She needed some new clothes first. No doubt there'd be several sets of spares already present there. People going through combat training were always given numerous sets. A very practical thing, really.
That wasn't what was on his mind though. He had followed up Gaelus' advice, much sooner than he had thought he would manage. His first attempt had been rather disastrous. He wasn't the most socially capable man and he knew it. He usually preferred being the aloof idiot or let his swords do the talking. The second time though, opportunity had presented itself and he took it. And he had looked. And he had seen.

It was a part of him that he had nurtured ever since entering the boss' service. According to Gaelus it was a special talent that allowed him to see people for what they truly were. What motivated them, how strong they actually were, things like that. That ability had unnerved a lot of people around him. Discovering that Gaelus' was absolutely unreadable aside for seeing no edge to his strength had unnerved him in turn. He had applied that skill to Melena. He had broken through the upper layer of emotions that were easy to read and dived deeper. Eyes were the mirror of the soul after all.

He had seen a lot. Some of it he had expected. But most?
He knew she desired revenge. Vengeance. A painful and slow one. Gaelus wouldn't have offered her that chance if those emotions hadn't been genuine. He had gone in expecting to find an inferno. He had found an all consuming wildfire. He had completely misjudged her character. On the outside she appeared friendly, a bit of a wild thing, but quite civil altogether. On the inside she was utterly driven by vengeance. He had seen the extent of the wounds her youth had given her. It was a miracle that she had managed to retain her sanity. When he had rescued her, she had completely blanketed those feelings by a thick layer of apathy, which was probably how she had survived, while nurturing a tiny flicker of hope that one day she might escape her fate. He had fed that flame. He had let her become free. Then Gaelus had come and had offered her more. A home that equalled safety, for his protection would keep her from harm as long as she stayed with him. A chance to become strong enough that others would not be able to harm her. The opportunity to improve herself constantly. A future that she could grasp and control with her own two hands. And the gift of vengeance. Not through the actions of others, but one she could achieve on her own. Beloved, bloody vengeance. In a way she reminded him of Gaelus. An all-encompassing emotion that dwarfed everything else, underlined by an intellect so sharp that it could cut. He wasn't too smart himself. He was strong, decently intelligent and was by no means anything less than a dangerous opponent, but he wasn't on the level that many others in the Mansion were. He just floated about, ever since his last student had turned out to be an absolute disaster. Sure, he could split his mind seven-ways, but he felt outclassed by Melena already, even if three was her limit. Her mind was clear and cut through obstacles that left him fumbling around, looking for a glimpse of light in the dark. She would grow up to be a person with monstrous abilities. Closely tied to Gaelus. She might avoid the entire shitshow that the factions represented, but she'd side with him. Another powerful ally for his boss. Another soldier for his ever growing army.

He looked at the young woman in his arms, who was still shooting angrily glares at him. He suppressed a growing feeling of fear. That she possessed a beauty and visage so stunning that most men would kill their mothers just to have a chance at sleeping with her did not affect him in the slightest. The razor sharp mind behind that face was what had him simultaneously concerned and captivated. Her look suddenly grew softer, tension fading from her face.
"If you're going to look like that all the time, I really won't have any fun in putting laxatives in your food, you know."
The comment made so little sense and was so utterly unrelated to everything that had happened that it made him burst out laughing.

As he carried her to her room, shaking his head, the pair resumed their idle bantering, past actions seemingly forgotten.
But neither party was fully at ease around the other. They still shared a profound trust that had grown inexplicably quickly, one that was formed on their current relationship as mentor and student, as well as their old one of captive and saviour. Yet they remained wary. Evon feared the all consuming vengeance he knew burned within her and Melena in turn feared what he had seen in her. She could feel his unease and responded in kind.


Far in the distance, in a room locked behind several wards of arcane nature, a dark chuckle vibrated through the room. The roar of the burning furnace could not overcome it and neither could the violent clang of the large smith's hammer as it came down on a white-hot piece of metal.
Gaelus smiled as he watched the entire exchange. His red eyes shined in the glow of the fire as sparks danced merrily through the darkness before fading into nothingness. Melena and Evon were but a small story in the Mansion, but to him it was precious. Entertaining. Vital.

These moments were ambrosia to him. Something he needed, now more so than ever. He knew he would soon have to leave the Mansion behind once more and he feared it. To his eternal annoyance and immeasurable relief time was finally running out.

Glissandi brought her hand up and a small barrier flashed into existence, narrowly fending off the blade that had come her way. Holding the blade and muttering a curse, Mina jumped back as the barrier suddenly flew her way. She tried fending it off with her blade, but to no avail. It pushed her back and she switched tactics, letting it push her over and rolling backwards, quickly getting back to her feet. The attack itself had worked, however. Despite having narrowly countered one of the twins, Mira had made use of the opening and was now lightly pressing her blade against the Priestess's neck. Glissandi panted, sweat running down her skin.
"Stop!" barked Lissa. "You're improving, Priestess."
Glissandi sighed. "It doesn't feel like it."
"Don't let your defeats get you down. These two have you completely outclassed in speed and combat experience. They have been training and fighting ever since they were old enough to wield weapons. You on the other hand have the physical prowess of a half-drowned kitten. So, in that respect it is quite an achievement that you managed to fend them off for that long. Two against one is not a good combination either. You have to hold off both parties simultaneously and these two are notorious for taking down even high ranking Knights due to how well they fight as a pair."
Mira and Mina brightened at the praise.
"Right, off you two go. Take turns sparring with Trista, the one not sparring stands guard."
"Yes sir!" the two responded simultaneously, before running off.

Glissandi caught the towel that Lissa threw at her with a grateful nod. Towelling off the sweat, she allowed her magic to surge through her body. She didn't use any spells to alleviate her sores this time. Lissa had told her to forego that, in order for her body to adapt to the feeling. It was far from pleasant, but she understood its usefulness. It was terribly draining though. Her stamina was nothing compared to that of her Warrior companions, and the pace they'd set since leaving the city was one best described as hellish.
'At least I'm improving by leaps and bounds,' she thought with a wry smile. It was a thought that gave her a sliver of consolation, even if she still considered her current level to be inadequate.
Lissa seemed to sense the Priestess' displeasure.
"You are demanding too much of yourself, Priestess. Stamina is not something you can magically acquire. It's a slow process that requires constant training and maintenance. All of us have been training since our youth. You should not see us as feasible targets. You are already at a level that exceeds that of any Priestess who I have travelled with before. At the very least, you're the only one who lets us set the pace we want, rather than dragging us down. And you don't complain."
Glissandi threw her a questioning look.
"Well, at least not out loud," the Paladin amended.
Glissandi sighed,but did so with a smile. The Paladin knew what buttons to push by now to alleviate her spirits. Her companions were a real blessing and the events in the city had tightened their bonds. The Lord had truly blessed her. Even leaving the city had gone a lot smoother than she had expected. The day after their battle and Salixor's departure she had proposed her plans to the party, whom had all accepted it. The Squires with eagerness, obviously hungry for adventure. The Paladin with a soft, knowing smile, as if she had predicted this outcome. Given how the Captain had been waiting outside with a large escort, ready to bring both the report and the two children back to the Monastery, it was likely she had. Even Trista had seemed eager, which was a rarity. The Knight's usual stony facade had slightly cracked when she told them that she intended to chase after this Gaelus, if her party consented. It had pleased her to see them approve of her plans. Despite her original failure, the group supported her and trusted her.
She wondered how Mother Dilia would react to the report and the newcomers. She'd be undoubtedly glad to see the little girl. Humans that possessed such a bright, magical radiance were treasured by the Order. The other parts of the report, well... If Mother Dilia knew of Gaelus, then she'd no doubt sent a party after her to track them down, despite the risks. The Mother had friends amongst the Warriors, and a singular Knight or Paladin could travel significantly faster than her party. Despite her best attempts, she knew she was still slowing them down. If she did not know anything, then it meant she was chasing a truly unknown target, which was even more worrying in some ways. A being of such strength, with such influence and so many followers should not have been able to go unnoticed.

'Wait a minute,' she thought.
"Lissa, what was it you said earlier?" she asked, grabbing the Paladin's arm excitedly.
"That you're improving well?" Lissa asked, uncertain what the Priestess was on about.
"No, no. Not that! Stamina can't be magically acquired. Why not? Why shouldn't it be possible to boost your own senses magically? I can alleviate tiredness, heal wounds, why couldn't I boost my own physical performance with magic?" Glissandi was downright giddy at the prospect and failed to see just how much Lissa's face darkened. The Paladin reached out and grabbed Glissandi roughly, forcefully holding her in place.
"Stop!" she commanded. The Priestess froze.
"Don't even think about that!" she shouted, then relented visibly. Glissandi eyed her curiously, knowing that the sudden outburst was uncharacteristic and there must be a good reason for it. She waited patiently for the Paladin to gather herself, rather than rushing her with questions.
"People have tried. It is a good way to rip your own body apart. How familiar are you with biology, Priestess?"
"Decently so. It was one of the subjects we had to study. We can cure an illness with magic, but we need to be able to make do without."
"Then if I compare a muscle to a rope, would that make sense to you?"
"A rope?" she asked, her eyes wide.
"Yes. And if you use a muscle, it goes taut. Like a rope."
Glissandi paled. Her mind skipped the next steps and cut through it all towards the final explanation.
"Oh Lord... That's..."
Lissa blinked in surprise, obviously not having expected the Priestess to have figured it out so quickly.
"If you add magic, your strength is indeed significantly enhanced. You can forego tiredness. But the counterpart of that is that your muscles cannot withstand the sudden increase in strength. You would literally tear them with the sudden increase. Or you'd run out of energy because your blood can't flow quickly enough. Your heart might burst from it trying to keep up. Your brain would become disorientated from the conflicting signals every limb would send. Unless you can somehow enhance everything at once and keep it in perfect balance, you're more at risk of making an error due to overextending. It is much safer, not to mention simpler, to fight with your body the way you trained it."
"You're right... Lord in heaven, the amount of control you'd need to exert such vast array of enhancements at is mind boggling." She shook her head, colour slowly returning to her cheeks. "I take it this information was earned at a high cost?"
"The Warriors experimented with it, along with a number of Priests that were adept in healing magic. It was thoroughly researched, despite the costs. Eventually the entire research was cancelled. Some of it was useful. For example, I know that Trista managed to block a blow from a Troll with her shield by encasing her entire arm in magic, allowing it to hold still. She knew to extend the enhancement across her chest as well, otherwise her arm would have been blown off. It also required holding the shield in the right position so the force would be transferred equally. There is a lot that comes to play. We're intimately familiar with the physical aspects and can use such minor tricks. Mess those up and bad things will happen. Trista managed to block one blow and save a life, but the impact launched her into a tree and broke her back. She then used more enhancements to keep her back in place, allowing her to at least move."
Lissa shook her head, realising she was speaking out of turn about another Warrior's past.
"Do not venture into that terrain, Priestess. This isn't a request. This is a warning. I might be able to handle minor enhancements at best and that is only because I have a lifetime of experience behind me. If you try them, we'd have to gather the pieces of you."
Glissandi nodded, her long hair waving in the wind.
"Your warning is received. I will not use them," the Priestess promised. Satisfied with the answer, the Paladin let go and walked off, going to oversee the camp. The sun was setting already and they would be up by sunrise. The Priestess sighed in relief when she remembered that since today had held a long training session, she was free of standing guard. She had originally tried to say that she didn't mind doing her part as well, but both Trista and Lissa had violently shot that down. Trista had a look of fear on her face at the suggestion. Clearly the Knight thought her capable of much, but standing guard while tired was not part of that. Given how the Knight spent virtually all of her time awake by looking around for hidden hostiles, the Priestess didn't hold it against her.
She stretched and enjoyed the feeling it caused in her sore muscles. It had been two weeks since they had left the city and she was pleased with the changes so far. A strict diet and constant exercise had started to have an effect on her and she wasn't as frail as she used to be. Nothing compared to the Warriors, but she was still glad for the changes. She found that the look suited her, even if that was vanity talking. She walked to the river, intending to refresh herself before going to sleep. Not far off she could see Mina squaring off against Trista with surprising speed.


Trista took a quick step back, allowing the Squire's blade to narrowly fly past her face. She didn't fear a sudden thrust, the girl wasn't in the right position for that. Her own blade came up again and the Squire hurriedly jumped back, before launching herself at the Knight again. Trista smiled and switched hands. The Squire's eyes went wide as she suddenly found herself wide open to the Knight's right arm and the subsequent punch forced her off balance. Rather than staying put, she fell over and rolled back, using the same trick she had used against the Priestess earlier. She could hear a soft thud when Trista's blade hit the spot she occupied only a moment before. Getting to her feet she found that the Knight was already charging her again, clearly intending on giving her no time to think. That was alright. She wasn't the thinking type anyway. She ran into the attack, narrowly fended off the thrust and crashed into the Knight. She managed to take Trista off guard with her violent outburst as blades were dropped in favour of hand to hand combat. She thought she'd have an advantage given how her knife had been in the sleeve of her mail shirt, but the Knight simply grasped her hand the moment she folded it to pull it out. The Squire cursed inwardly, she'd been read. She let out a frustrated scream as the Knight started putting pressure on her hand, immobilising it. She gritted her teeth, ignored the pain and aimed for a short punch with her free hand, but the Knight's speed outclassed hers and she found her fist harmless bouncing off the Knight's shoulder. Then her instincts screamed at her and she slid her right leg half a step forward, pulled her hands down, forcing Trista to either follow suit or let go. The Knight chose the former and Mina showed a feral grin as she stomped forward, pushing the Knight off balance.

Then she suddenly found herself on the ground, Trista nowhere to be seen.
"What?" she asked out loud, shaking the dizziness from her head. She rolled around and found the Knight standing next to her, blade in her hand again and pointed at her.
"What? But how?" the Squire exclaimed.
"I took a step back. Moved my right leg. Let you barrel past me while pulling you down. Kicked your feet away from underneath you. It was a good attempt. An equal opponent would have been downed. Not an ideal position to fight from though. What was your next plan?"
Mina was silent for a second. She didn't really had a plan beyond that. That wasn't how she fought. She relied on her instinct to guide her through a fight. Planning was her sister's strong point.
"I don't know. Just fight and use any openings, I guess," she muttered dejectedly.
Trista offered the girl a hand and pulled her up, before clasping her shoulder firmly.
"You fought well," she complimented. Mina's disappointment evaporated instantly and she thanked the Knight for the lesson, before running off to switch with Mira.

Trista smiled from underneath her helmet as the calmer girl took the place of her sister. Of the two she found Mina to be significantly more dangerous in close combat. She relied on instinct and had trained herself to follow that up in a heartbeat. In a prolonged battle however, Mira became more dangerous as she analysed her opponent. A great tactic against humans or beings that relied on brute strength such as Orcs. Utterly useless against Trolls however, if you were the front line fighter. Mira greeted her, then surprised her by launching a wild attack. Trista flinched for a second, having been lost in thought and the result was Mira staggering back when the Knight dodged underneath the slash and gave a brutal kick to the girl's abdomen. She took a hurried step to the girl, who was down on her knees and was throwing up her lunch.
"Are you al—" she began, only to be cut off when the girl grabbed her by the shoulder and a knife flashed towards the opening between her helmet and her neck.
'Ah. That's the Mira I know,' she thought with a smile, ramming her head down, making the small blade crash into her chest plates and slide off harmlessly. The girl herself, however, was left seeing stars when the Knight's full face helmet made hard contact with the girl's much smaller one.
"Sneaky. A good attempt. Get up and fight properly."
"Yes sir," the Squire responded, still dizzy from the headbutt. She slowly scrambled back to her feet, wiped off the lasts bit of vomit from her lips and took on a combat stance. Unlike her sister, Mira would only exchange glancing blows, the Knight knew, preferring to keep her distance while reading the opponent's pattern. Trista had a small smile underneath her helmet. A commendable tactic, but against experienced opponents this would backfire. The girl lacked the combat experience to understand the danger her plan posed. If someone put up a fake pattern, they could lure you in.

'Well,' she thought to herself with a grin. 'The best way to learn that is to feel it.'
She made good on her promise.

"Alarm!"
The cry echoed through the night and tore apart the blissful dream that Glissandi had been residing in. The urgency of the shout made her jump up, only to see that the rest of her party was already forming a circle around her, arms at the ready. In the darkness of the moonlit night she could vaguely see a blur running towards them, but given how nobody reacted aggressively it must have been one of the Squires. As the girl came closer and joined the circle, the Priestess wondered what the cause for alarm had be. She struggled to crawl out of her sleeping bag and held back a curse when she slipped and fell over. Not a good job for someone who's main job was to be graceful.
"Movement, sir. Slow, but big. Heading our way," Mina reported. "I couldn't see what it was, but the ground shook."
"Troll?"
"Possibly. Don't think so though, it felt different."
"Keep one eye closed everyone. Priestess, light!"

Glissandi finally got to her feet and was glad to be receiving simple commands. She was still being integrated into the team as a fighting unit, and the Warriors in turn were still getting used to having a mage amongst their ranks. The Priestess closed her eyes, another thing she had been taught as the light from her eyes when she used magic made her an easy target in the dark. Light flashed out from her hands and raised to the sky illuminating the entire area. It temporarily blinded the Warriors, but their eyes soon adjusted and if worst came to pass they could easily fall back on the dark again, having kept one eye in reserve. Simple, but effective tactics.

The Warriors tensed and it took a long moment before Glissandi understood why. She felt the ground shake slightly, then more as whatever it was came closer. She felt a slight mental pressure slide past her and knew that the Knight and Paladin were casting out their aura. She mentally chastised herself and cast out a spell of her own, allowing her to see far further than her Warrior companions and with far greater clarity. The magical orbs sped in the direction of the threat, when Lissa took note and ordered her to spread them in an all round, just in case.

The orbs flew around and formed a large defensive circle, giving Glissandi the difficult task of monitoring every direction at once. One of her orbs saw a group of trees shake violently as something moved underneath the canopy and she moved them closer. What was underneath, hidden in the shade, was an absolutely massive creature, easily twice the height of a man. Recognition struck her like a hammer.
"Salixor?"
"What?"
The tall Keeper stepped out from the trees and was now slightly visible in the light, far away from the camp site as he still was, but the creature did not look good. His bark was torn and charred and the green liquid that was his life blood was leaking from countless wounds. One of his arms was reduced to a burned stump at the shoulder and he had lost an eye, a plethora of wounds covering his face.
"Oh Lord in heaven, preserve us..." she whispered.
"Report!" barked Lissa, foregoing politeness for the sake of urgency.
"It's Salixor, but he's badly wounded. Really badly. Maimed."
That shut Lissa up. She had been the only one who had gone, however briefly, toe to toe with the gigantic being and knew damn well how tough he was. Aside the simple fact that whoever had managed to wound him to such an extent would be a truly dangerous foe, if it was still alive at least, there was also the very worrying issue of him moving straight towards him.
"Ready your magic, Priestess. We may have need of it."
"He doesn't look like he's in any state to fight..." the Priestess whispered, feeling pity for the sad state the creature was in. He had, after all, saved the life of one of her party and given her invaluable information.
"Not for him. For whoever might be following him."
The Priestess went quiet for a moment as her mind processed that remark. Then the air started to violently crackle as she drew upon her full reserves and made herself battle ready.
'Good girl,' the Paladin thought. She had indeed learned from her mistake. She wasn't going to panic this time and the entire group of Warriors could feel the shield that had formed around them. They were out in the open in a hard to defend location, but they had formed a ring of steel with veritable magical artillery in the centre.


It took several agonisingly long minutes before Salixor came into view, where the Squires kept hopping from foot to foot in impatience as Glissandi's orbs continuously kept watch in the skies. The tall Keeper, now no longer having to bend over due to being indoors and having risen to his full, impressive height, slowly walked towards them. For a moment Lissa thought that he was just taking it slow, then she spotted just how many wounds he sported and let out a quiet, vile curse. Glissandi's explanation hadn't done it justice.
"Your guard is commendable," the creature's deep voice rumbled. "But the threat pursuing you does not come from the ground. He flies."
The entire group immediately looked up, expecting an imminent attack when a laugh that shook the trees rolled through the fields. It was a pleasant sound, even if it could not hide the pain the creature was in.
"He is not here yet. I managed to misdirect him. I am glad though, to have found you and even more glad to see that you have followed my advice. I merely hope that we all can reach safety before he returns. Or before another shows up." The Keeper smiled at them, causing the Squires to tense and take a small step back when they saw just how horribly mutilated his face was.
"Any other enemies Priestess?"
"Not as far as I can see."
"Harumph. My senses far outstrip yours, humans. No one else is near."
The Paladin looked questioningly at the Priestess, who pondered her options for a moment, then chose to believe him. The magical crackling disappeared and the Paladin made a few gestures towards the others. Just like that, the entire alarm phase came to an end and the group ran towards Salixor. Trista was the first to reach him and offered him her shoulder. The Keeper gratefully accepted it and leaned slightly on it and the poor Knight nearly buckled under the weight, causing Salixor to alter his stance again and apologise profusely. Trista underwent the trial wordlessly and simply continued supporting him.

Not long after that the large Keeper was sitting down, leaning against a sturdy boulder while Glissandi, under his instructions, infused him with energy, allowing his wounds to start closing. It was a disturbing feeling to her, the creature felt as if he was a bottomless barrel. How he had remained alive, let alone conscious with those wounds was beyond her. Even Lissa was eyeing him approvingly.
"I believe I owe you all another explanation," he began.
"As much as I wish for you to rest first, I believe that may be for the best. I take it some urgency is required?" the Priestess asked, gaining another deep laugh from him.
"You have a talent for understatement, human. Very well." He shifted slightly and moved his legs a little further away from the fire. When the Squires had lit it again, there had been a slight flash of panic in his eyes that had gone nearly unnoticed, but both the Knight and the Paladin had seen it.
"After we parted ways, I went north, in an attempt to lure all those who were chasing after Cassandra towards me, away from you. Four days after that I was overtaken. I was lucky. He caught me while I was crossing through a forest. The man, if you can call a Rogon a man, was polite at first, as he should be. We are friends, after all, even if our factions do not align."
"I hate to interrupt, Salixor, but I do not believe any here know what a Rogon is," the Priestess interjected.
"I do," Lissa said. "They're humanoid creatures with surprisingly small, but powerful wings. They have bird-like legs and four arms. Their biggest threat is their speed and their razor sharp limbs. Their claws are lethal. Their strangest habit is that their limbs do not have bones, but contain a sort of fluid that they can harden on a whim, meaning they can attack from the strangest of angles. They are not pleasant opponents."
"Indeed, that is what a Rogon is. And this one has trained with Gaelus. You can add strength and an impressive magical array to his abilities. Combine that with his impossible speed..."
"He could hurt you?" the Paladin asked.
Salixor's large eye narrowed as he looked at the Paladin, remembering their previous encounter.
"Yes," he simply said. "He could. As you can see."
The Paladin gritted her teeth.
"He asked me what happened to Cassandra and to hand over the items, or at least steer him in the right direction. I told him she was dead, a well deserved fate, and that I was still hunting down the items. He... did not believe me where it concerned the latter. He had evidence of his own that a party of the Order had killed her and assumed I would know more. I helped cover your tracks and made mine more visible. He is a powerful man, but his tracking skills are rather lacking.
Upon arriving at the conclusion that I was not willing to give him any further information on the item, despite our previous friendship, he attacked me. I will tell you know that most creatures would not be foolish enough to attack a Keeper while he is in a forest. The forest strengthens my kin. We despise battle, but we are formidable foes none the less. I fought to the best of my ability and hurt him. Harumph. As you can see, it availed me little. I could not keep up with his speed, nor with his combat abilities. I was torn asunder. He reduced me to splinters and firewood. He spared me only because he realised I really did not know about the item, as well as due to our old friendship. He hoped I would not hold it against him. He left, going further north after that."

Salixor sighed deeply.
"I fear he will soon abandon his search and start to return. It is why I am moving south as quickly as possible. I doubt he will be lenient enough to let me live a second time. It might be even worse when he realises that the item is quite probably destroyed and that you are the cause of it. He will come for you."

The group looked at one another as they processed just how much trouble they were in. If a being of Salixor's ability could not fight off a single enemy, what chance did they have? Lissa grinned, to everyone's surprise.
"You are not a mage. And he is a single enemy. We are not frail weaklings who shy from danger. We are servants of the Lord. If this foe of yours comes, he will find naught here for him but blades and fire." Salixor winced at the last word.
"Priestess," the Paladin said, turning towards her. "We await your orders."
"Then we move immediately. You may be willing to make a stand here, but I suggest we move south post-haste. We might be able to hold him off, or even defeat him on his own, but if others join him then we stand no chance. Salixor, given how you caught up with us I assume you are fit enough to travel?"
"I am, human."
"Then we shall set off."
"Priestess, I understand your haste but if we travel in the dark, we risk wounding both ourselves and the horses," the Paladin protested.
"I can light the way."

On the inside, the Priestess was furious. She was only just getting used to dealing with the fatigue of training and their hellish speed and now they'd have to go even faster. Part of her wanted to throw the type of tantrum a girl her age was definitely entitled to, but the rest of her told her to keep it together. She was a Priestess, a loyal servant of the Lord. She had her duty and she would not shirk away from it, her own body be damned. All she had achieved was because of Him and His benevolence and Darkness would have to swallow her whole before she'd relent in her task.

Gritting her teeth she mounted her horse, a lot more graceful than she had done the first time. The Squires quickly broke up the camp and stashed away their supplies. Within mere minutes the entire party was ready and gathered around the Priestess, who sent bright orbs of light out to illuminate a clear path. Salixor took position at the rear of the formation and the group set off, Salixor, despite his wounds and loud grunting, keeping pace with them all.


Far, far behind them, weeks of travel time on foot, a short creature darted through the sky.
"Goodness me, goodness me. So much land, so few eyes. Still, they must be somewhere," he complained. He said it with a smile. He simply enjoyed being free. Nobody telling him what to do, nobody instructing him, lecturing him, leaving him free to do what he liked doing. Flying was the very top of that list. Soaring through the sky, diving towards the ground and darting through trees and obstacles at blinding speed was simply exhilarating. The wind rippling through his feathers, gravitational forces pulling on him as he performed insane feats of agility just because he could. His mind briefly went to his friend, Salixor. It was such a shame the big lump hadn't cooperated. He didn't like fighting. He was good at it, mind you, but he didn't like it. He just wanted to fly and soar free, really. Alas, he had been ordered to bring back the item and an order was an order, like it or not. So, he'd find the group. Ask them to hand over the item. If they didn't have it, well... It would be a shame, but he'd have to kill them. Such an unpleasant task really.

Why couldn't people just let him fly in peace?

"Stop!" barked Lissa. Most of the riders obeyed the order immediately. In the case of the last member on horseback it was the horse who obeyed, rather than its rider. A sleeping Priestess jumped awake and fell off her horse, her foot getting caught in the stirrups. Salixor was beside her before she managed to hit the ground and he caught the panicking woman in time. She stared at him wide-eyed as he freed her foot and put her back on the saddle.
"We're stopping here! Make camp!" the Paladin ordered. The Squires slid off their horses and started unpacking the supplies while the Knight moved out to set out wards and scout the immediate surroundings.
"I..." the drowsy Priestess began. "Why are we stopping? It's still light out?"
The Paladin patted her horse before stomping over to the Priestess.
"Firstly, because there are a lot of armed men ahead of us. Secondly, because you are getting far too tired. You may have been fooling me for a while now, with you using magic to hide your exhaustion, but Darkness be damned, Priestess, that is how you get yourself killed."
The Priestess opened her mouth to protest but the Paladin shut her up with a sharp glare and a raised finger.
"I am not yet done. This is another piece of the so called Warrior's common sense, so keep quiet and listen. I have fought against Rogons before. They are formidable foes, but definitely not beyond what me and mine can handle. However, we are not dealing with a normal one. Just like how the average human does not measure up against you or me, just like how that witch differs from the average woman, so will this one differ from a normal Rogon. Your magic will be key in our defence. He will make you his prime target and with reason. That means you must be attentive, not exhausted. We will be a ring of steel with you at the centre, but he can attack from above, where we cannot defend from. You are already far less used to the flow of battle than we are. Your magic is an asset, but if you grow exhausted you will become a hindrance rather than a help. So. We stop. We rest. And we pray to the Lord that the creature is not yet near."
Glissandi sighed deeply and cast her eyes down. She didn't even want to counter the argument anymore. She was too tired. She had tried to hide it, to let speed be their watchword. Now she realised that doing so was a grave tactical error. She tried to chastise herself for it, then decided that she could do that tomorrow as well. She had spent everything just trying to stay in the saddle and had been clinging to the reins with desperation for the past few hours. Then the first part of what the Paladin had said got through to her and her head snapped back up. Lissa grabbed it roughly and pushed her back with blazing eyes.
"Go. To. Sleep."
Glissandi opened her mouth in shock, then closed it and timidly moved to the sleeping bag that the Squires had laid out for her. Sleep took her in seconds.


"I could alleviate her exhaustion to an extent," Salixor offered, his deep voice rumbling through the small clearing. Lissa finger shot up like a sword.
"Don't you dare, you overgrown log, or I'll use you for firewood. She needs to learn that actions have Darknessed be damned consequences. Lord above, what a mess. Trista! Stop scouting and get back in the saddle! Find out what those guys up there want!" she shouted, stomping over to the horses, leaving an annoyed Keeper behind. His angry harumph vibrated through the ground.
The soldiers that were a few hundred metres ahead didn't worry her. They had been flying the flag of the Trivistan Empire after all, meaning they were friendly. Allies even. Still, for such a vast number of troops to be up and about meant a military action was taking place and while steering the party straight into a war was something to be avoided at all costs, there would be a lot of added safety if they could link up with them for a while.

She took care of the horses as Trista rode off into the distance, quickly drawing the attention of the Imperial troops, who immediately responded by sending out a patrol to intercept her. Lissa could only vaguely see them talking, but before long the Knight accompanied them back to the main force. From there on out it took an agonisingly long time before the Knight reappeared, followed by a surprisingly short man wearing a long chain mail vest, and his four-men escort. As the Knight came closer to the camp she held halt and saluted.
"Paladin Lissa, may I present to you Colonel Luthir from the Trivistan Empire, commander of the seventeenth Battalion of Heavy Infantry. Colonel Luthir, may I present to you Paladin Lissa, head Paladin of the Fortress-Monastery of Saint Guderia. May the Lord shelter you both."
With that said she motioned the four escorts and assigned them positions around the camp. The four men looked at one another briefly, then their leader, before nodding and falling in line.

"May the Lord bless you for coming over so swiftly, Colonel," Lissa said, giving the tiny man a handshake.
"It is no bother, honourable Paladin. I have fought with others of your Order in my younger years. I hold you and the Order in high esteem. The Lord has capable servants and I am always glad to lend them a hand. Alas, I am in a hurry, so let us dispense with the pleasantries and come to the core of the matter. Is there anything I can aid you with?"
"Possibly so, Colonel, but I lack information at the moment. Where is your battalion heading?"
"That could potentially be classified as a military secret, were it not that our foes will not be able to react in time. We are headed to the southern border, towards the Maltora Kingdom. It would appear they have moved the entirety of their armed forces to the south, launching an attack towards a city."
"A singular city?" asked Lissa, eyeing the Colonel dubiously.
"Yes, I was as surprised as you are when I heard the news. Apparently this city is incredibly well defended. No doubt they want to take it down with haste, lest their many enemies swarm them." The Colonel's coughed drily as he waved towards his men.
"As you can see, their plan clearly failed. Anyway, that is the task I was assigned. I am to meet up with several other battalions at the border. The Empire is planning on launching a large scale offensive into Maltora." He nodded towards the Paladin, indicating that was the end of his explanation.
"Would you be terribly opposed if we stayed near your column then?" Lissa asked, plans forming in her head. She knew the contents of a heavy infantry battalion well. There were still a decent number of mages in there as well, which would greatly enhance their defensive power. Their foe might be a powerful adversary for the five of them, the still recovering Salixor excluded, but throw another five to six hundred men into the equation and things became very different. She threw a quick look at Salixor and was surprised to see unbridled fury on his face. She looked at him for far too long and the Colonel followed her eyes. The tiny man jumped back and drew his sword with surprising speed.
"Darkness!" he shouted. His escorts, hearing his scream, returned immediately and formed up around him, somehow missing the giant Keeper entirely, even though he was standing by the side of the road.
"Harumph. Drop that blade, tiny manling and answer me!" the Keeper roared. The sound reverberated through the surroundings and a flock of birds took off from a nearby tree. With a shriek the Colonel dropped his blade, taking several steps back. His escorts, who hadn't been able to miss the giant tree-man roaring at them, were struggling to keep their horses under control and were generally failing at that.
"That city they are nearing, does it carry the name of Lanas?" Salixor shouted, stunning the Paladin through the sheer volume of his voice. She had never heard genuine anger in his voice before.
"I don't know!" the man yelled, falling over in his haste to get further away from the giant.
"Salixor!" shouted Lissa, getting over the initial shock.
"Darkness be damned, what's gotten into you?"
"You do not understand!" came the quick response. The Keeper threw his long arms in the air in desperation as worry manifested itself on his face.
"If the humans attack Lanas, countless will die! Lanas must not be besieged! Ever!"
"Well the city'll be gone soon. No walls can hold off their army. They're a well trained force, even if they're not our equals," the Colonel muttered.
"You fool!" the Keeper bellowed. "That is besides the point! Lanas is his city! If it burns, so will Maltora! You do not cross him! His vengeance will darken the world and cover it with blood! It mustn't happen! Such a calamity must not come to be!"

The Keeper turned to Lissa, worry having been replaced with panic.
"I can't let so many beings be hurt. I must go and try to keep it from happening. Maybe I can convince the humans. Make them call off. I must hurry. I wish you luck in your quest, but I must depart now. I cannot let this happen!" he shouted, before stomping off. A dumbfounded Lissa watched him sprint off, the ground shaking violently under his steps. Within moments the gigantic Keeper was reduced to a tiny spot on the horizon, before even that faded.
"I... Paladin, by the Lord, what was that creature?" the Colonel asked, eyeing the distant horizon suspiciously.
"An ally of sorts... One who answered some questions and raised many, many more," the Paladin muttered dejectedly, annoyed at his sudden departure and not having the answer to any of those questions.
"Try to forget it, Colonel. To return to our original topic, we are being chased by a dangerous foe. A Rogon, if you are familiar with them?" The Colonel nodded, much to her surprise. The tiny man was well learned if he knew of the avian creatures.
"One of them is chasing us. He is highly trained however and as such poses a threat to our small party. Our Priestess is already exhausted from dealing with a powerful witch earlier and we have set an exhausting pace ever since."
"Consider it done, Paladin. You are welcome amidst our column as well. You would be safer there and you could rest within the wagons as well. We would be honoured to have you with us. Your presence would be quite the morale boost to my men. How far is it that you need to go?"
Lissa made a small bow. "I thank you kindly for your offer, Colonel, and I shall gladly take it." With Salixor gone, she had no reason to stay apart from the soldiers anymore. Linking up with them would be a blessing she thanked Him for.
"We were heading in the same direction as your forces. It appears that, just like the Maltorans, we too have unfinished business in this city they are after."
The Colonel picked up his sword, sheathed it and saluted her.
"Then you'd best hurry, Paladin. Or there won't be anything left of it, strange predictions of mythical creatures aside."


Less than an hour later the party was comfortably riding inside a wagon that had been cleared for them. Lissa and Trista were beside it, standing guard despite being at the very centre of an armed column and the ring of mages that had subtly been stationed around them. Mira and Mina were taking turns steering it, while the Priestess, who had somehow slept through the entire event, was still sleeping soundly inside it.
Lissa could hardly wait until the Priestess woke up. Salixor and Gaelus were completely unknown factors and Salixor suddenly stomping off had left her at a complete loss. Whatever it was, it had turned a powerful being into a panicking toddler. Something even a near death experience hadn't done to him. What really worried her, however, was the way the Keeper had phrased it.
Countless would die... she thought to herself.
Well that can't be good.

It took a long, long sixteen hours before Glissandi finally woke up. During that time, Trista had to resort to distracting Lissa with quick and silent conversations, using nothing but minute hand gestures. The Priestess had fooled Lissa by using magic to alleviate her fatigue and that had clearly irked the Paladin. She hadn't taken the discovery that the girl had been running on fumes well. The Paladin knew that the Priestess needed her sleep, but Lord above that didn't stop the temptation to just shake and shout her awake. On top of all that, the existence of Gaelus still unnerved her and she, although she would never admit it, did look towards the Priestess for guidance. She was a Warrior, she dealt with threats up front Darkness be damned, not all this finicky thinking. Now, however, she was finally up and after having asked and received an explanation for their new situation, the Paladin and the Priestess were discussing the situation and Trista could finally focus on being her paranoid little self again.Honestly, it was a tremendous improvement over having to hold a nervous Lissa back.

"Salixor left?" asked Glissandi, stifling a yawn.
"Stomped off there and then."
"You didn't try to stop him?"
The look Lissa shot at the Priestess made it clear the elder woman doubted her sanity.
"Yes Priestess. I was planning to stop a creature twice my size and several times my weight by standing in front of him while he's stomping off."
"Cut the sass Paladin, I just woke up," the Priestess grumpily replied."
"Oh reaaaaally? And how come you were that tired, hm?
Glissandi realised she was heading on thin ice and decided that the only way to avoid earning a lecture that would scorch her ears off was redirecting the conversation.
"I must admit I am confused. Can you repeat the exact phrasing he used?"
Lissa quickly told her everything and was half pleased and half worried when the Priestess frowned.
"That isn't good."
The Paladin rolled her eyes, which earned her a glare from the Priestess. Mina, who was sitting next to her sister at the front of the wagon, shook her head. The two were going to be at it all day if she had to take a guess.
"I'll elaborate. Salixor, a being of great power, who was mauled and maimed and didn't seem terribly bothered by it, panicked when he heard of the city being besieged. His fear was not aimed at the loss of people inside the city, but what would happen as a consequence of it."
"I followed up to that point, yes," the Paladin interjected. Glissandi shushed her.
"A full city. The entire army of a kingdom. He did not fear their loss. He did not mourn their wounds."
"I... Don't follow," Lissa reluctantly admitted.
"Don't you see? That means he fears what will happen after! He fears what that mysterious master of his will do if that city falls."
"I... Yes. And?"
"If you were to fight against this column, right here and now. How many men could you take down?"
Lissa was quiet for a moment as she looked around.
"With the element of surprise, given time—"
"No, you draw your sword and fight them right here, right now."
"I could probably kill a dozen before they'd overwhelm me."
"Right. And with the rest of the party?"
"Without mages interfering on either side, at least fifty. Possibly even a hundred. We'd tire out eventually and then we'd die."
"And how many men do you think Maltora has at its disposal?"
"A lot?"
"Four hundred thousand by the last counting."
"That is... A lot of men."
The Priestess snapped her fingers and her blue eyes drilled deep into Lissa's.
"Salixor. Dismissed all of those. As not important."
"I understand the importance of that but—"
"Lord give me strength. It means that Gaelus is capable of dealing with all of those and then kill countless more! That means he's either an absolute monster of has an army at his disposal the likes of which we've never seen!"
"I... Lord in heaven, that can't be right... Can it Priestess? I mean, nobody's that strong. Even the strongest of our Order would fall if they had to fight alone. Numbers carry a significant weight in any engagement. That would mean he has an army of his own, but how could he have an army of that size without us knowing?"
"That I don't know. That is what worries me. How can a force of his strength come to be without anyone else knowing? The Order has people out gathering intelligence everywhere! The idea that we have such a massive gap in our defences is preposterous!"
"Then are you sure it is wise for us to go there? If a battle of that scale erupts, there is nothing we can do against it."
"That is true, but I think the truth is different."
Lissa blinked. "I... What?"
"His strength may not be an army, or personal strength. It might be something entirely different. He is knowledgeable, isn't he? He may know how to alter the weather and ruin the harvest. Maltora is a kingdom focused on farming export. If their harvest failed, countless would suffer, starve and eventually die."
"Then why the entire assumption that he has an army?" the Paladin asked, not able to follow.

Glissandi raised her hand.
"If I am confusing you, then I have reached my goal. Gaelus is a completely unknown factor. We know nothing of him, save for his name. We know not if Salixor speaks the truth or if he was simply overly impressed by his master's prowess in some fields. All that we know for sure, the Lord preserve us, is that he has very capable people serving him, not dissimilar to how our Order sends out parties. So we must gather more information, even if it costs us our lives. I do not gamble with them lightly, Lissa, but can we leave such a threat running loose without knowing what he is or what he can do? His abilities? The power he has at his disposal?"
Lissa humphed, then grinned.
"So what you're saying is you want us to stick our collective heads into the lion's mouth and see if it bites, and if it does then those who have seen it will know the lion for what it is."
"A crude analogy, but yes."
"Then say so from the start! You damn clerics are way too wordy for your own good!" she shouted, roughly messing up Glissandi's hair, who vainly tried to get the Paladin to stop.
"One way trip to possible suicide against a foe who might be a smart bunny or a ferocious lion. Heh. Lord, you sure make my life worth living," the Paladin laughed, exiting the wagon.

"You know, she's starting to like you, Priestess," Mira said, turning her head to the woman only a few year older than herself.
"Does she now? It does not feel like it, Mina." Glissandi sighed as she started the arduous task of putting her hair back in a proper shape.
"Mira, Priestess. And she does. Us Warriors are very physical. We're not very good with words." The Squire shrugged.
"Given how she's starting to manhandle you, that means she's accepted you as one of us."
"I... I did not know that."
"I figured you didn't," the Squire said with a shrug.
"I may be speaking out of turn, Priestess, but you have earned our respect as well." Her sister grunted in agreement but kept quiet.
"Don't know about Knight Trista though. She's always quiet. I heard a lot of horror tales on stupid Priestesses however and you're really a lot better than I feared you'd be. Certainly better than how I thought you were when we first met."
"Thank you Mira. I appreciate it."
The Priestess moved through the wagon until she was directly behind the girls.
"Although if I were you I'd be very careful with voicing that," she said in a conspiratorial tone.
"You told us to speak your mind, didn't you?" the girl asked, hesitation in her voice.
"Yes, but I can feel Lissa's angry glare burning through the canvas.
"Oh..." the girl whispered.
"Mira!" came Lissa's harsh voice.
"You're sparring with me the evening! The entire evening!"
"Yes sir," muttered a dejected Mira. Mina, sitting next to her sister, burst out laughing.

Tears ran freely across his face. He hated this place. He had crafted it with utmost care. Nobody had been allowed to help him, or even be near him when he made it. It was the first part of the Mansion. Deep, deep underground. There were only a handful of beings that knew of this place. Only a handful he trusted enough to tell them the secret meaning it held.

He walked forward and tenderly touched the glowing runes on one of the gigantic walls. They lit up brightly at his touch and he brought his head against the cold wall. He whispered the ritual words of passing, as he always did when he came here. Countless names span the walls. Each had their story. Each had their history. All of them connected to his own. Countless who had lived and died in his footsteps and by his side, fighting alongside him for goals they believed in. Sometimes, on rare occasions, their goals had been the same as his. At other times their end goals had merely aligned, yet they still had placed their trust, their hopes and their lives in him.

He lifted his head and looked around. The sheer size of the place still intimidated him. He was glad for it. The emotions kept him grounded. He walked a precarious balance. Too little or too few... He'd rather not pause to think about the consequences. He was familiar with them. Painfully familiar. He sighed. Let his eyes wander across the central pillar. He knew those names well. Those he had betrayed. Those he had loved. Those whose loss had struck him the hardest. If only he had been wiser then. Stronger. He walked over to it, whispering their names to himself in a language the world had long forgotten. He recalled memories of his ancient past. Of happier times. Life had been arduous, filled with pain and loss. Yet happiness had also reigned. They had shared a goal. A sacred task. They had met as enemies and ended as brothers and sisters. Tears stained the path he walked while a nostalgic smile adorned his face.

He sat against the wall and was comforted by its cold touch. He missed his friends. He sighed again, deeply and slowly started unshackling the countless locks he had in place on who he was. Most of him was absent and far away, sealed where it could do no harm. He slowly brought his hand up in front of him and looked at it, watched it disintegrate and reform. It soothed him. He looked up at the ceiling, so far up that it was hidden in the dark. Then his eyes wandered across the hallways. They went on nearly forever, all adorned with names.

He hoped his real student would come home soon. He missed her dearly. He cared for her far more than the others, even though she would never truly know how much.
And yet...

He brought his arms around his shoulders and started crying. Silent sobs left him as sadness wrecked his body. He hated it all. He just wanted it to be over. He longed for the end and for simpler times.
Back to a far, far past.
Back to before he was Gaelus.

Glissandi watched the twins pair off against Lissa. It was an incredibly fast paced fight. Lissa was like the calm in the storm with the twins twirling around her. Trista was sitting beside her and providing the Priestess with commentary and was doing so with her usual lack of emotions. It had been an idea of the Paladin to improve the Priestess' knowledge of combat, given that they could hardly practise it directly with her. A Priestess landing on her behind and eating dust wasn't good for their general reputation after all and it gave them all something to do. Boredom had started to strike quickly after a few days of travelling with the Battalion.
"Whenever one of them attacks the other moves towards the Paladin's blind spots."
"What constitutes a blind spot?"
Trista gave her a look of slight wonder and the Priestess realised that the Knight found it weird that someone could not know that.
"Raise your left arm. Head height."
She did and tilted her slightly so she could keep looking at the Knight.
"You turned your head," Trista said, before turning her attention back to the fight.
Glissandi frowned at the Knight for a moment before she understood. Blind spots. Anything beyond your range of vision.

Mira ran in and delivered a heavy blow with her buckler while Mina, who was behind the Paladin, rushed in from the back. To the Priestess' surprise the Paladin didn't block the blow, but whirled around, tripping a surprised Mira and causing her to crash into her sister. The Imperial soldiers around them applauded the cunning display.
"Never overextend in an attack. Keep your senses sharp. If you can feel the attack, your blind spots are reduced by a significant factor. Overextending needs to be avoided as well. It puts you off balance. Balance is key in all fights. If you overextend and succeed, you are stupid and lucky. If you fail, you are stupid and dead."
Glissandi nodded as the Paladin tapped both Squires on the neck with her blade before sheathing it and walking off. Trista hopped off the coach box and went to join her superior. A sore Mina and Mira waved at the surrounding soldiers who laughed and wished them luck, before they too returned to their duties.

The girls took off their helmets and laughed, playfully punching each other against the shoulder. The look they exchanged told the Priestess they were somehow talking about the fight with each other. Then Mira caught the calculated look in the Priestess' eyes and their communication stopped. Whatever it was, it was clearly something the twins did not want to share. Glissandi walked over towards them and joined them on the coach box. She found climbing the thing a lot easier now than she had done in the past. She really had gained a lot of strength since she started travelling, even if she was still laughably weak compared to the others around her.
"That was an impressive fight," she complimented them.
"Impressive? Hah!" Mina let out a barking laugh. "The Paladin's one of the very few who can hold off both of us at the same time and makes us eat dust!"
"Is fighting two opponents at once really that hard?"
"Oh yeah!" the impulsive girl added before shoving her head into a bucket full of water. When she pulled it out she sighed deeply in relief as the cold water ran down from her face.
"Word to the wise, never fight two as one. I know the Paladin had us sparring with you, but we really held back. If I kick you in the head from the front and my sis kicks your ass from behind, you're down and dead before you can think."
"Sister!" Mira shouted, aghast.
Glissandi smiled and waved the comment away. Talking with the girls was refreshing. They were incredibly capable, yet reminded her of the young Aspirants back at the Monastery. Innocent, full of life and really not holding back. Mina far more so than Mira.
"So I take it the Paladin is all the more special then because she can hold off both of you at once?"
"Oh she can do more than that! She can kick our butts from here to the Bastion and back with ease if she wants!" Mina exclaimed, oblivious to the worried looks her sister was sending her way. She tumbled backwards, rolling inside the coach and just laid there, stretching, looking up at the canvas ceiling.
"She's incredible, really. She can sense our attacks, react to them with blinding speed, which ain't a small feat. You ever worn one of those suits? They weigh a ton! She's not having much issue with us either! Which is really damn great!" she shouted, throwing her fists up in the air. "Back at home nearly everyone was avoiding us because of it. One on one, two on two, damn near nobody wanted to spar with us anymore. Two on two we damn near beat everyone and the Knights didn't like losing to Squires and the good Paladins were never at home. So they just gave us chores and chores and chores!" the Squire complained.
Glissandi chuckled.
"Washing dishes, cleaning out stables, setting tables?"
"Oh yeah!" Mina nodded enthusiastically, sitting back up. "And weapon maintenance. Dusting out old armouries! Fetching materials for the smiths! Lord I hated that!"
The Priestess nodded amicably. "I understand."
"You do?" Mina asked, looking questioningly at the Priestess.
"Well, I never had to help blacksmiths or maintain weapons, but we had libraries." Her face contorted as she held out her hand and shook it back and forth.
"I had to copy a lot of manuscripts at times. Days on end." She leaned forward and gestured the Squires to do the same. Heads close together, she whispered conspiratorially. "I know it's a sacred task from the Lord, but there were times I just wanted to set fire to it all so I'd never have to pick up another pen."
Mina started laughing out loud, but quickly brought her hands on top of her mouth. Even so she could still not contain her laughter and just shook while tears ran down her face.
Glissandi smiled at the sight. Apparently the Squire took great delight in imagining the prim Priestess setting fire to a library.

Mira gave the Priestess a very vocal look.
Why are you trying to befriend us?
The Priestess answered the pointed look with a simple smile.
"You know, I'm happy I can speak with the both of you like this. Fewer rules. No chores. Nobody nagging."
Mira raised an eyebrow, wary that the Priestess took such a frontal approach.
"I'm new to all this," she explained herself, gesturing around. "I have never really left the Monastery before. All I know from the world I have learned through books. I know nothing of fighting and while they stuffed me chock full of knowledge about all sorts of things, I am learning more and more that I really know very little. Then all this constant training. Sometimes I just want to be able to pause it all, can you understand that? Just... be me for a little while. Not the Priestess."
Mina nodded emphatically but Mira remained wary. Mina responded to the wary look by elbow-stomping her sister in the side. Glissandi winced at the blow.
"You know Priestess, you're alright. I always thought your kind was supposed to be stuck up, but you treat us fairly and don't dismiss us as if we're too young to tell Light from Dark. So in a way, we're lucky to have you as our lead woman."
Mina rolled back a bit before jumping to her feet in a surprising feat of athletics.
"Then again," she continued with a broad grin, "you can bless the Lord that he didn't saddle you with some of the other Squires. There's real lazy-bones and idiots amongst those. You really got the cream of the crop with us!" She winked and Glissandi laughed at the shameless girl.

You idiot! Stop trusting her so much! We barely know her! The thought Mira sent out was like a needle poking in her brain and Mina barely managed to stop herself from turning around and punching her sister's lights out. Instead she answered differently, sending a full blast of emotions back. She relied on her instincts, like she always had and those told her that the Priestess could be trusted. The strength behind her own thoughts made her sister wince slightly, something that immediately caught the Priestess' attention, who asked if she was alright.
"I'm fine, Priestess. That blow my sister gave me early stings a bit still," she lied smoothly.
Glissandi nodded emphatically and continued onto a new subject.

"So to breach on something we all have on our minds, what do you think about this Gaelus character?"
"You're asking for our opinion?"
"Well, last time you brought Cassandra's motives to attention, did you not? You tend to think differently than the rest of us, maybe you can spot things I have overlooked."
Mina nodded, Mira glared and the Priestess waited.
"I think he's dangerous."
Mira rolled her eyes and started coughing like mad a moment later when an angry sister rammed her elbow into her side again, a lot harder this time.
"I overheard your talk with the Paladin. If he can kill that many people... I don't think you can do that by hand. No way. That's just impossible. And in fighting, well, you can kill a lot of people on your own but if he wants to kill the entire Maltoran army he needs an army of his own. He has these special people around, right? But even so he'd need a lot of them to do that. I don't think he has that many. Even the Order would be hard pressed to field that many people in one go and we are a nation in our own right."
The Priestess nodded. So far the girl's thoughts went along her own.
"But what if he can make diseases?"
"What?" the Priestess asked, blinking.
"You said that he could maybe ruin the harvest and cause people to starve, but that still is a lot of land and people would start paying close attention after a while. It also takes too much time, by the time he'd travel around enough to visit every field, most would be harvested and be put under heavy guard. But sickness doesn't need that. People travel all the time. I remember... Mira, what was it called again?"
"The Touch of Darkness," her sister coughed.
Glissandi paled. She remember reading about that dark part of history. An incredibly virulent plague. It had started somewhere in the far north. A lot of people assumed it was a curse, because the firsts one to fall ill had been an expedition in an ancient ruin. The plague had run rampant through the northern countries for years and only an absolute quarantine had saved them all. If you caught the plague, you lived on for roughly two weeks without any visible symptoms, then they would strike in a single day. Black spots all over your body, aches and pains everywhere and before the day would be over, you would be dead. Burning the dead hadn't stopped the plague. It had brought upon near total destruction of the northern nations. Scratch that, it had brought total destruction. Less than one in fifty thousand had survived. There had been survivors scattered here and there, but the nations themselves were gone. Even now few people dared venture north, even if the event was over a thousand years ago. It had been well documented thanks to the parties of the Order that had travelled there in an attempt to heal the ill. They had written everything down in neat accounts, before succumbing as well and had given the order to cut off the north from the rest of the world.

Mina nodded.
"If he could somehow create something like that..." she continued, before falling silent as she saw Glissandi's face.
"Lord preserve us all. I had not thought of that. If he can do that, then we are all doomed."
She rushed to her feet and all but jumped off the coach box.
"Colonel!" she shouted. "I must sent a message to my superiors! To yours as well! It is of the utmost urgency!"

Inside the coach the twins looked at one another, the sheer size of the threat they were facing finally dawning on them.
Mina looked at her sister for a good long while before speaking.
"Bet you a gold coin I'm right."
Mira responded by whacking her sister with her buckler.

King Radolf sighed in relief when his scouts reported that the city had finally come into view. He motioned for the long columns behind him to halt. It had taken them far too long to reach the Darkness damned place. He knew the Trivistans were eyeing his beautiful Maltora and did not like leaving it undefended for too long. Still, the knowledge held in the city of Lanas would be worth it. If they could capture it quickly. He turned around and looked at the massive army behind him. Four hundred thousand men, all well armed and well trained. Heavy and light infantry formed up in neat ranks. Archers and crossbowmen standing at the ready on the outskirts, surrounded by pikemen. Beyond those were his heavy and light cavalry units as well as a minority of horse archers. In the centre of the massive formation were the engineers along with the essential supplies needed for the siege weaponry they'd build. Spread around the units were thousands of mages, providing support for his combat units. Those brave men had been busy the past weeks. What should have been a simple trip through undefended lands had turned into a tactical nightmare when that had appeared. That damnable creature of the Dark. It had shown up one night, unannounced. Frost forming wherever it went, red eyes full of hate staring at them. It had simply shown up at the front of the army and charged them, letting out a ghastly scream. The first line had held firm and the creature had simply floated through the gaps in their formation, had gone straight for the officer in charge and had...

King Radolf suppressed the urge to throw up when he remembered the man's remains. The creature had caused him to explode from the inside out. Spears, swords, maces, arrows or bolts had all proven ineffective and even magic hadn't seemed to cause it a lot of harm. It had disappeared quickly after the first strike, only killing a handful of men, but promising bloody vengeance on them all. That they'd all die.
Over the course of the following days they had discovered that massive amounts of magic forced it to retreat, but if they actually caused damage they did not know. It never killed many, but despite that it had put fear into everyone's heart. Prayers and holy symbols had not kept it at bay and more often than not his scouts simply vanished, no doubt reduced to bloody chunks. The Lord be praised, the creature had left them alone after two weeks.

Then there were the damned traps. He had originally hoped that his army would be able to approach the city fairly unnoticed, as far as that was possible given the sheer size of his forces. He had managed to overwhelm all the scouts and had actually grown confident that they could pull it off, when a single one managed to slip their net. He had seen the damage that caused. All the enemy scouts had been capable and had taken many of his own men down with them. He wondered what the city itself would be, if they produced men of such level.
The one that managed to escape bothered him still. His own scouts were capable men as well and they had been accompanied by hunting dogs. When he had visited the location where his men had last seen the enemy scout, he had found that the entire section of the forest had been reduced to ashes. No doubt a powerful mage had interfered. A very powerful mage.

So the man had gotten away and as a result the entire pathway was littered with traps. They were quite inventive too, he would make use of them himself in due time. For now he was on the receiving end and he liked them a whole lot less. They were costing him valuable time and men. Large pitfalls, boulders that rolled down from a hill. Lord shelter them, there were trees that exploded when you got near them. Not even his mages had figured out how that worked. Everyone was wary of trees now though, which had costed them more time. He had hoped the problems would lessen when they finally left the forest, but that hope had been smashed thoroughly. The farmlands had been burned. Wells had been poisoned. Anything that could aid them or sustain them had been destroyed, sabotaged or taken into the city. For one Darkness damned moment he had believed that to be the extent of the troubles the citizens of Lanas could inflict on them.

Then the fucking road exploded.
It had only happened once and the how of it had left the engineers and mages stunned, but that had not availed the seventh Company, who had been the vanguard when it happened. Now there was no seventh Company and the army had slowed down its advance even more.

But finally! Finally! That slow track was over! The city was only a few hours away and the siege would finally commence. He had relayed his commands to his officers and the massive army was spreading out, moving carefully, wary of more traps. They would encircle it and build their siege weaponry and then start the assault post haste. No more wasting time. The battle would be quick, bloody and decisive.
"Tell me Farold, how do their defences look?"
"Your Highness, this city will not be easy prey. I have looked at their walls through the spyglass and... Well, your Highness, I have seen forts with less defences. Their walls are at least sixty feet high and I can only guess at how thick they are. The gate I saw is of intricate design and falls inwards, with thick beams on top. We will not be able to pull it down I fear. There is a moat surrounding the city as well. Roughly thirty feet wide if I were to guess. The walls themselves were littered with siege weapons. They are well prepared for our coming. I did not dare come too near. One of my colleagues decided to approach the city, but as soon as he came within about fifteen hundred feet he was speared to the ground for his trouble. To make matters worse, your Highness, they burned down everything in a three thousand feet range around the city. We have no cover, no trees, no houses to use. Only bare, black earth."
"Darkness be damned, this is going to be more costly than I thought. I knew they were well defended but this... Just how many men do they have at their disposal?"
"Earlier records indicate around twenty thousand, your Highness."
"I know. You've done well Farold. Take a rest, you have earned it."
As the scout retreated, the King's commanders came towards him. It was time to discuss strategy and finalise their battle plans. He would be careful about this. He had lost three thousand men already, which wasn't much, but they were too high a price to pay to simply advance on the city.


Inside the city Deftis stood atop the walls.
"That was a damned nice shot, lad," he complimented a small Gnome.
"Always a pleasure, sir," the Gnome replied, tapping his hat in a mock salute.
"Can't fire any further than that though. Loses both its accuracy and the strength to properly penetrate. Too easily deflected."
"Right. No need to worry. We have plenty more tricks at our disposal. They're going to bleed when they advance."
"That they will sir. That they bloody will," the Gnome replied, fire in his eyes.

Deftis waved him goodbye as he continued his tour of the walls. His city was well prepared. The creature had returned a few days earlier and had bought him the time it had promised. Though nobody but him could see it, the being was gravely wounded and had retreated to its station to heal. Should the city fall, it would be the last line of defence. Only he knew what the creature guarded. The city existed to both supply the Mansion and to protect the artefact that lay deep beneath the city. He understood the creature's burning desire to protect it very well. Both of them shared the same master after all, and his commands were akin to a divine mandate to them.
Still, all his abilities, all the city's defences, they would not be enough. He would stay true to his word. The Maltorans would bleed. But he had only twenty-three thousand men at his disposal and while all of them could pull double duty as militia, only a handful could function as soldiers. If they were pushed off the walls, which would happen eventually, casualties would soar and the city hall, while a fortress of its own, could not hold them off for long. At the very least, however, they would have to rebuild their siege engines inside the city to assault it.
He sighed, but refused to despair. His runner would have reached the Mansion by now. His master would not abandon the city in its time of need. Reinforcements would come. All he had to do was hold. He did not know for how long. He was not privy to the military situation in the Mansion, nor how strong his master was. All he knew was that he had a duty and that he would perform it to the last.

He froze, mid-thought. He spotted a large banner coming out of the forest in the distance, far beyond what human eyes could discern. His eyes narrowed as he gazed upon the source of his troubles. The Maltoran king. Anger rose to the surface as he slowly raised his arm.
Let's give them a warm welcome, he thought.
Energy pooled into his hand as he raised it far above him, a massive ball of flame forming above it. It grew in size until it was as big as a large inn, before it started spiralling. It condensed itself into a dense orb as the colour slowly changed from red to blue. His anger was, just like Deftis, beyond that of a mere man.
He took a few steps back, then sprinted forward and chucked the orb at the banner.



"Incoming!" the mages shouted. King Radolf froze and turned towards the city. They were thousands of feet away, what could possible—
His eyes went wide as he saw a blue orb of fire streak to the sky, akin to a falling star. Mages rushed to the front all around him and threw defences up as best as they could. His personal retinue grabbed him unceremoniously and dragged him off, running away. It took the attack several seconds to reach his position, having to cross a massive distance, but then it hit them. The orb crashed against the magical shields and exploded, washing over them. Standing underneath it the King saw the fire in all its fury, the flames greedily licking at the edges of the shield as they engulfed it. Underneath his fear he found himself admiring the primal beauty of it all. The shields were pushed down as mages collapsed, their energy drained from the onslaught, but they held. After what seemed like an eternity the flames disappeared, their energy spent and a collective sigh of relief went through the entire group. Then they became aware of the screams. The King pulled himself out of his stupor and looked around. While his own retinue and his advisers had been sheltered from the attack, the top half of the banner, which had been sticking out of the shields, was gone, reduced to ashes. What was far worse, however, was that the same held true for the units around him. At least two hundred men were simply gone, flesh and bone, weapons and armour alike. It had all been reduced to ashes.

As officers rushed to the front to restore order, the King shared a worried look with his commanders.
"That had to be the same mage who saved their scout," Larick, the commander of the mage units muttered, as if to reassure himself.
"Lord preserve us all if it's not. One such monster is enough," the King agreed.



Far, far away, an exhausted Mandark collapsed into a comfortable bed. He had fulfilled his duty. He had brought word to the Mansion.
Utter rage drew ugly lines across Gaelus' face as he stormed through the main doors of the Mansion. They dared to attack Lanas? They dared to threaten what was his?
"GLOBAL MOBILISATION!" he shouted, his voice reinforced with his Spirit. The shout shook the entire building to its core and rolled over the fields and forests nearby. None who attended the Mansion did not hear it.
"Kreya! Open armouries two to five. Gather everyone there!" he commanded and the Krast rushed to obey.
His eyes were red-hot with anger.
For the first time in an eternity, the Mansion would set out again.
For the first time in an eternity, he would set out again.
"And so the Gaelus marches," he whispered to himself.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, recalling memories from a past no-one but him remembered.
When he opened them again, his eyes were clear, but no less full of vengeance. He gathered his breath and whispered the words that sealed Maltora's fate.
"En shado gae."

"GLOBAL MOBILISATION!"
The cry echoed through the study and Evon, who had kept himself occupied with juggling three books with his bare feet while Melena struggled with a difficult mathematical problem, launched himself in the air, headbutting one of the books in the process and didn't even seem to register the impact. At the desk Melena's pen jumped off the paper and onto the wood, leaving an ugly streak of ink on it.
"Shit!" Evon commented. "That ain't good. Come on lass, drop everything!"
"What? Evon, wha—"
"No time! Global mobilisation! Shit shit shit shit shit! That ain't good at all!" He ran over to the desk and roughly pulled Melena towards him. He ignored the chair that fell over and threw her over his shoulder and rammed the door open with his other one as he held her with his hands.
"What's global mobilisation?" she asked, trying to keep her stomach muscles tightened to mitigate the repeating impacts of his shoulder as the man sprinted down the hallway. Around her she saw other doors being kicked open as a veritable storm of students rushed through the halls towards an unknown part of the Mansion.
"It means we're going to war. All of us. I don't know the specifics. He'll brief us. In short, a lot of people will die. I don't know! Global mobilisation's supposed to be a theoretical situation! I don't recall it ever happening!"
"Elaborate! What do you know?"
"Everyone is called to arms. The armouries open and we're equipped with weapons and armours. Basically we're all soldiers now and he directs us at will. I can't even begin to guess what's happening. It's impossible to assault the Mansion! There's way too many damned things protecting this place! Not to mention that nobody should be mad enough to piss the fucker off!"
Melena pondered on that for a moment, then her arm slipped off his shoulder and her stomach made hard contact with his body and her attention was shifted to keeping her lunch down.

Evon soon arrived at one of the armouries, having followed the large stream of students that were running towards it. The first people had clearly been given directions and the rest had followed suit. He ran through the open doors and fell still, awed by what he saw. The people overseeing the armoury did not give him time to stand and gawk however, and roughly pulled him deeper into the building and shoved him to a spot where he could await his turn.
He ignored the rough treatment and kept looking at the intimidating sight, mouth wide open. There were rows and rows of weapons, ranging from normal to exotic, their colour revealing that the metal or alloys they were made with were not things known to man. Then you had the suits of armour. Breastplates, helmets, shoulder guards, knee caps, mail skirts, anything you could imagine was adorning the walls and the dummies. There were hundreds of outfits and Evon knew that this was but one armoury of many. Each of the items was finely crafted, clearly made by a master smith, which meant they were beyond expensive and hard to come by. Yet Gaelus possessed so many of them?

Then he saw the man in question, who was pacing back and forth on top of the large sparring platform that was in the centre of the room. Seeing him actually pace was discerning. He wasn't a man that was easily perturbed. His eyes went back to scanning the enormous building and he suddenly spotted large pillars finely grafted in the walls, with large arches spanning in between them, holding up the ceiling. Gargantuan banners covered the walls, along with the strange glowing orbs that provided the more restrictive parts of the Mansion with lights. The banners themselves were downright stunning, depicting epic battles that were no doubt long forgotten by the world at large. Seeing all this really drove home the point just what kind of being they all served.

Gaelus raised his hand and silence fell immediately.
"Global mobilisation is at hand. Many of you wonder what this means. It hasn't happened in ages and even the eldest among you have not been witness to such an event. Before any of you think of not participating in the war that is to come, know that you have no choice. You will do as I command. But, fear not, I'm not sending you to your deaths. Most of you will be used as support units to rebuild after the fighting has passed. And even those of you who will fight will not do so unsupported. Now, with that out of the way, you all shut up and listen."

His speech wasn't very glamorous or inspiring, but it got the message across very well. It helped that his icy tone was supported by two flaming red eyes.

"Lanas, our city, my city, is under siege by the Maltoran kingdom. They number twenty-three thousand. Our enemy roughly twenty times that number. By the time we arrive, I estimate that number to be significantly smaller. We have two hundred and seventy-eight combat capable students. You will be my vanguard. I will equip you with weapons and armour. You will notice that what you will wear will significantly enhance your combat abilities. Get used to them as quickly as you can. I made every piece myself. Enemy weapons will shatter on yours and their blades shan't pierce your armour. That said, they can and will beat you to pulp using their sheer weight and blunt force and lacking that they'll simply cook you with waves of fire. I do not expect you to go in, charge wildly and die gloriously. I do demand that you charge into disoriented lines, hit them from behind, shatter them and kill them ALL!"

The students exchanged quiet looks. Despite that they all possessed the ability to divide their mind in different parts, they struggled to comprehend it all. A few grins broke out, others looked frightened. Gaelus' shout ended all of that.
"Krivantos, front!"
A large Troll stepped out of the lines and clambered up on the platform.
"Fight me!"
"Sir?" the Troll blinked.
Gaelus glared at him and the Troll took a step back, before bellowing loudly and charging at him.

Honestly, it wasn't even a fight. The Troll was fast as lightning despite his size and the twin blades he used were wielded with skill, even though they looked incredibly silly in his hands. Yet Gaelus weaved in between every attack, neatly deflecting the Troll's hands with gentle pushes of his own. During the entirety of the short exchange he never ceased looking into the Troll's eyes. After a minute he gestured for the Troll to stop and the huge creature obliged.
"Warehouse two, aisle two, row six, slot eight, armour. Warehouse four, aisle thirteen, row twelve, slot nine, weapons. Libras! Front!"
The Troll didn't hesitate this time and jumped off the platform, nearly flatting a small, fuzzy creature that Evon didn't recognise. The small creature waved at the Troll to follow and off they went, no doubt going to retrieve the equipment. On the platform the next student fought with Gaelus as their enigmatic leader decided what weapons to give him.

"That's just... Impossible, isn't it?" a soft voice whispered from across his shoulder.
"I... what? Oh, sorry!" Evon whispered back, blushing as he realised he was still carrying Melena on his shoulder.
"What? Never mind that! Don't you see?"
"What? That Gaelus is more wealthy than I ever thought possible?"
"That too you tit! But look at the weapons! How many do you think there are?"
"I... Hundreds? Thousands?"
"Thousands, for sure. And this is but one armoury."
"Oh Lord..."
"Now you get it."
"He made them all. All of them. That's... Just how old is he?"
"Old. But even more impressive is that he remembers each and every one," whispered a very impressed girl back. He turned to look at her and found her gazing at Gaelus with downright reverence.
"As if he's the Lord himself."
"Don't let him hear you say that!" hissed a third voice from behind them. The pair turned around and saw a bird-like creature lean towards them, his long wings folded across his body. Evon recognised the species but Melena was staring at the far too many joints on his arms and legs.
"Don't stare! That's rude!"
"Don't bother lad, I don't mind. But never compare Gaelus with the Lord. He dislikes religion with a passion and that of the Lord in particular! So never do it! He doesn't take kindly to it I'd wager he's stressed out enough as it is."
"Thanks, err..." Evon trailed off, not knowing the Rogon's name.
"Mi-ker, anyway—"
"Mi-ker! Front!" came Gaelus' voice
"My turn, good luck lads!" the Rogon jumped a dozen feet up in the air, unfurled his wings and launched himself at Gaelus, picking up an insane speed in seconds. He slowed down at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding a collision. His multi-jointed arms and legs lashed out, razor sharp claws flying towards Gaelus from every direction. The ruler of the Mansion wasn't bothered by it in the slightest and stepped closer towards the Rogon, avoiding all attacks. Rather than doing anything elaborate, the man simply finished the move by headbutting Mi-ker hard enough to knock him off balance entirely. The Rogon's momentum carried him further and he crashed into the platform, tumbling end over end and losing a few feathers in the process, while Gaelus shouted out another location in the armoury.

"He's incredible," whispered Melena. Evon shifted his attention away from the platform and back to the young girl fawning over their teacher. He huffed. For some reason it annoyed him to see her so awe-struck.
"Yeah, otherwise he wouldn't run this damn place," he grumbled, earning him a surprised look from Melena.
"Is there something wrong, Evon?" she asked, genuine concern colouring her voice.
"Hmph," he grunted, looking away from her. She wasn't so easily dismissed though and she hopped around to grab his attention again.
"Evon?" she asked, concern shifting into worry.
"Nevermind," he sighed, not knowing what bothered him in the first place. For a frightful moment he was sure he felt Gaelus' eyes on him, but when he looked at the man there was no sign of that. His eyes narrowed. He had been so sure that—
"Are you going to be fighting too?" Melena interrupted his thoughts. He turned towards her and found her looking at him with annoyingly large eyes that were full of worry. It annoyed him even more that it somehow made him happy. Damn it all, he was well over two centuries old. He had no business being this bloody sappy! Was this why Gaelus told him... Lord above he was going to kill the bastard!
"Evon, front!" came the shout, answering Melena's question about whether he was going to fight or not. It answered his own as well. The bastard had just looked at him. Fucker's abilities were absolutely insane and he used them for... Argh!

He ran towards the platform and vaulted onto it with a powerful leap, his blade out and at the ready. He didn't rush in recklessly but advanced carefully, only launching well planned attacks and keeping his distance. Gaelus gave him a grin that aroused murderous intentions in him and he nearly succumbed. Only the knowledge that he'd be giving Gaelus just what he wanted kept him from doing it. He took a step back and suddenly found his teacher's face directly in front of him. Bastard was fast!
He tried moving his blade up, but found that his hand was caught in a steel grip.
"You're advancing, Evon. Keep it up lad. Warehouse three, aisle seven, row two, slot two, weapon. Warehouse four, aisle seven, row six, slot one, armour. Off you go. And do me a favour and stay alive. Melena's going to be a lost little lamb without you. No overextending yourself. Now shoo!" Gaelus gave him a final grin before pushing him back. It wasn't a gentle push and Evon found himself crashing into the ground and tumbling backwards, off the stage. As he crashed onto the tiles, his annoyance skyrocketed when he saw Melena running towards him.

He softly swore and promised to himself, as Melena tried to help him up and he stubbornly refused, that one day he'd kick that fucker so hard in the nuts he'd become a bloody soprano!

Melena veered back as Evon shrugged her helping hands off and stomped off to acquire his weapons. She was sad to see him go and wondered what it was that bothered him so. Over the past few weeks they had grown more accustomed to each other and she wished he would trust her more. She sighed and cast her eyes downwards, shaking her head ruefully. No use crying over spilt milk. There was no time for her own personal issues at present. Not when war was about to break out. She moved her attention back to the man who was at the centre of it all and winced as another human was cruelly slammed into the floor. Gaelus was tearing through the fighters at an impossible rate, taking less than a minute with each to determine what suited them best.

She was a newcomer at the Mansion, she was aware of this. A scant few weeks were nothing compared to the centuries that others had spent here. Yet Gaelus had spoken with her quite frequently since she had become an official student, which had surprised her. She had learned a lot about him from that. Just enough to realise that nobody knew anything about him. Her original infatuation had faded and been replaced with an intimidated form of admiration. The man was far beyond what a mere human could be. He was, even if he hated the term, godly. Forget that he lacked magic, his physical abilities were off the charts. All manner of creatures stepped onto the ring, each of them powerful combatants in their own right. Even those gifted with magical abilities were rendered immobile in the blink of an eye. Then there was the sheer size of the armouries, the amount of time and skill that had gone into every piece of equipment. There were Kings that would be envious of his wealth. Through it all he moved every student as if they were pieces on a board. When she had discovered that he was doing it absentmindedly, she had run away and hid in her room, refusing to come out for a full day until she had finally exhausted Evon's patience and he had simply broken open the door and forcefully dragged her out, kicking and screaming.

That had been shortly after she had managed to split her mind four-ways. She was making incredibly progress if she was to believe Gaelus. He had calmly discussed it with her over some beverages that vaguely smelled of elderberries.  She had made the mistake of asking him how many ways his own mind was split. He had looked at her with a faint smile. Then his eyes had changed. They had sucked her in and she had fallen. For what had felt like an eternity she had fallen down a bottomless chasm, screaming for help as gravity pulled her down, leaving her helpless as the wind tore through her hair. His amused question had freed her from his spell.
How high can you count?
No. Evon had been right. They lived and died at the man's whims and while she wouldn't dare to begin guessing at what could drive a being like him who manipulated and controlled the lives of hundreds of students, she had come to one frightful conclusion. Evon and most others feared Gaelus' grasp of Spirit or his physical prowess. All of that paled to what really made him powerful. His mind itself. His intelligence. He could dissect any problem, any psyche, in a moment and could subtly shepherd any who came near him in a direction of his choosing. If he bothered to do so.  He had made her realise that her own mind was sharp as a razor as well and he was finely honing it in turn. One could easily consider his students as blades, with Gaelus at the centre as the whetting stone.

She was torn out of her thoughts when a Goblin was thrown in her direction and the small creature collided with her, knocking her backwards. The small creature possessed remarkable agility and rolled over her, avoiding all of Melena's more squishy parts.
"You alright?" came a surprisingly high pitched voice. A female Goblin. The creature grabbed her gently by the hands and pulled her up, showing a surprising amount of strength.
"Yeah, sorry I couldn't dodge."
"No hard feelings!" the tiny female replied, before jumping to her feet, running off to get her weapons.
She turned back towards the platform and saw Gaelus flashing a grin at her. The bastard knew what she was thinking. Lord above that was annoying. She shook her head ruefully and retreated to her original spot in the lines, where nearly six hundred students were waiting for the battles to end. After all, she realised, they would have a role too, even if they did not yet know what it was.


It took about two hours for him to go through all the combat-oriented students. As he barked out the final orders for the equipment, a shroud of silence fell over the crowd once more. The large halls of the armoury amplified it and as Gaelus quietly paced back and forth on the platform, the silence grew deafening.
"Five hundred and thirty-eight students remain. None of you are what I deem combat capable. If I sent you to fight, you'll kill perhaps a few dozen foes each before being overwhelmed. So, I deem you useless in that aspect."
A muttering rose from the crowd. Some people were not happy with being labelled as such it seems.
"However your strengths lay in a different field. Construction. Architecture. Finances. Biology. Magic that isn't focused on combat. Farming. Genetics. Smithing. The list goes on. Lanas is a city that, in a world as desolate and devoid of advanced technology as ours, stands at the pinnacle of civilisation."
He barked a short laugh.
"If you don't include this place that is. Honestly, what lays there is child's play compared to what you lot know. So you are given an entirely different task. You will help Lanas with rebuilding. Try not to add too much of your own knowledge to theirs. I limited that city precisely to prevent invasions from happening. Regardless, the city will be a ruin by the time you arrive. You will have plenty of work fixing things. Those of you that lack any specific skills to help the actual reconstruction will find plenty of tasks as supervisors and advisers. None of the citizens can split their minds, so you all have a tremendous advantage when it comes to making things run smoothly."

"I have some questions, if you don't mind, sir," came a strange, metallic voice. The crowd parted to let an nine foot tall, heavily armoured creature through. Melena didn't recognise it. It was covered from head to toe in a brown carapace-like armour.
Gaelus waved for the newcomer to come to the platform.
"I expected as much. It would be weird if the Queen of the Comfrith did not question what I just did."
The tall creature's back split open, revealing insect-like wings that started buzzing loudly. From one moment to another she smoothly transitioned from walking to floating, before hoovering towards the platform and landing in front of Gaelus. She towered over him, yet seemed strangely submissive despite having been called a Queen.
"You talk of war," she clicked. Melena suddenly realising that the creature sounded like that because she liked a proper mouth. Her eyes went wide as she recognised the being for what it was; an enormous insect. Now that it was much closer to her she saw the antenna poking out from the helmeted head, the multi faceted eyes and the razor sharp claws that protruded from the mouth. A thin layer of slime coated her wings as they slowly slid back inside her carapace. Melena couldn't help herself and took a step back. The creature looked like an eldrith abomination.
"Yet each was given a unique equipment. I do not understand. It does not befit war."
"You are absolutely right," Gaelus responded, giving her a warm smile, but no further explanation.
The Queen snapped her mandibles at him in annoyance, coming frighteningly close to his face. His grin didn't waver.
"Are you expectant of me summoning my brood?"
That got a different reaction out of him and his eyes narrowed. He clicked back at her, reverting to her own language. The Queen took several steps back.
"You speak my tongue?"
More clicking on Gaelus part and the Queen nearly fell off the platform as she hurriedly created more distance between herself and the man.
"I regret my choice of words, slibarin."
Gaelus' eyes widened.
"You..." he hissed, stretching out an arm towards her as if he was going to strangle her, before he seemed to notice the hundreds of students around him.
"We'll talk about that later. For now, the short answer is that I send them to clean up."
"Clean up, slibarin?"
"Bloody.... Yes, clean up. Stop calling me slibarin! Don't use that language anymore!"
The Queen tilted her head upwards, a gesture Melena could not place but it seemed to placate Gaelus.
"I understand not. The war must be fought. The city cannot fight. Those you send are not synchronised. They are not united. They cannot form ranks. They are individuals. They will be solituted. Overwhelmed. Slaughtered."
"No they will not," he simply responded.

He turned towards the crowd and gestured.
"Off with you all! Kreya will handle your equipment and seeing you off. I will handle the others."
He tried walking off but was stopped when the Queen held out four long blade-like arms, each pointed at his neck.
"Courting death, are we?"
"I have enough daughters. If you refuse to be called slibarin, then I serve you not. Answer my question."
Gaelus calmly reached out to the blades. Melena looked closely at them and saw green droplets at the end. Some sort of poison, she conjectured. The blades themselves seemed to cut the air itself. Then his hand closed around it and the Queen shrieked in pain when he crushed it.
"They will not fight the war," he told her in a stage whisper that carried throughout the entire armoury.
"I will."

Gaelus blinked in surprise and looked at the stunned crowd around him. He slowly became aware of the Queen's pained breathing and the ichor seeping out of the wound he inflicted on her. Then his eyes settled on Melena. Poor girl. Well, all of those present had been rather unfortunate really. By the flows of blood, he was struggling with self control these days. He opened his hand and the Queen fell to the ground, more due to the shock that someone could crush her blades barehanded than actual pain. She would never know, but she could consider herself lucky she was still alive. That accursed language should have died out long ago. He thought he had wiped out all traces of it. Apparently not. Not that wiping out an entire history was an easy feat, but he had been reasonably sure he had managed.

"Kreya, they're yours now. Melena, with me."
He turned to the kneeling Queen and spoke to her in her own tongue. Despite his mouth lacking mandibles he managed to pronounce it correctly.
Stop sulking over your blade and come with me. I owe you an explanation. Do make sure to never use that language around me anymore.
As you wish, overlord, she responded. He didn't like overlord either, but it beat the use of slibarin. She got up and followed him at a respectable distance. As he passed Melena, the human girl fell in line. When she suddenly discovered the Queen towering over her, she screamed and ran to catch up with him. He laughed. He had forgotten how easily frightened most humans were. His laughter faded away as he realised that he had forgotten far too much.

"I'm growing old. Senile even," he said out loud.
"I... Sir?" asked Melena quietly.
"Never you mind girl. I like drama and hate making sense, but that back there... That was not planned. Evon is right to fear me, you know? I am going quite mad these days." He felt her ponder that statement. He liked that about her. She was smart and insightful like few had been. Her days of slavery hadn't dulled her mind and when that weight had been taken off her, she had exploded outwards and asked him questions few dared to think when he was near.
"We don't really have a choice but to trust you, do we?"
There it was again. That brutal honesty he so enjoyed.
"No. You don't. Unless you run. Far, far away."
"Not before I get my revenge," she shrugged. He chuckled.
"Queen, do me a favour and give her a gentle hug."
Melena barely had the time to turn around with a face that spoke of utter terror before the nightmarish creature scooped her up and gave her a relative gentle hug. She'd be quite thoroughly bruised, but her bones remained unbroken. She did scream though. Blood and gal, did she scream. He took his time enjoying it before he had the Queen put her back down and the girl responded by climbing atop of him and clinging to him like a frightened cat. She hadn't been able to do that when he had first met her. Her strength was developing nicely, thanks to Evon's thorough tutelage. He ignored her. Not like he needed his eyes to see where he was going anyway. If the Queen thought anything of the strange orders, she hid it well. Then again, if you were a Comfrith it was kind of a given that you didn't show anything on your face.
Slibarin, he thought to himself. Blood and fire. I should have made sure that died out.

A short walk later they were in one of the Mansion's many studies. Melena, her usual professional demeanour forgotten, was hiding behind the chair he was sitting in, with the Queen sitting in a large couch opposite of him.
"Oh cut it out already. She's not going to eat you," he sighed.
Melena's response was a soft squeak.
"I don't believe you!"
"Oh for... Could you reassure her you're not going to eat her?"
The large multi-faceted eyes focused on the girl.
"You will not be eaten," stated the Queen.
Melena peeked from over the couch.
"Really?"
"No. The overlord told me not to."
Gaelus sighed as the girl screamed and disappeared behind the couch again. The corner of his lips twitched upwards in a smile though. He was impossibly more dangerous than the Queen could ever be and far more likely to hurt her than the Queen was.
"Enough of you," he reprimanded her, reaching out behind the couch and pulling her up by the shoulder, before tossing her over and planting her firmly in his lap, giving her no chance to escape by wrapping an arm around her.
"You hated it if people could not see past your looks, then do you not think that it is the height of hypocrisy if you do the same to her?"
That shut her up. He felt her shiver in fear, but at least her mind had kicked itself in gear again. She wouldn't conquer her fears just like that, but at least they could have a conversation.
"Melena, let me introduce you to her formally. She is the Queen of the Comfrith, an insectoid race of huge ant-like creatures that dwell deep under the surface to the far north. Their staple diet is made up of plants and mosses that grow in the caverns they dig out. They're herbivores. She lacks any direct name, so feel free to address her as Queen. Queen, this is Melena, a girl with a usually sharp mind but apparently a bit of a fear for being covered in carapaces, slime, in the possession of mandibles and general other insect-like features."
"Humans have that with my kin. I hold you not responsible."
"They also have a weird way of speaking. Not a word of comment on that. It was not easy for her to learn your language."
The Queen responded by letting out a long series of clicks.
"They are also surprisingly eloquent when it comes to swearing. As you might guess she's not too fond of your tongue."
"You dance with niceties. Why have you brought us here? Why am I not fighting?"
"Because you owe me your allegiance according to the old treaty. About that, where the hell did you learn of that word?"
The Queen thought about that and Gaelus understood that she was stringing words together. Then she clicked, clearly having given up.
My brood was digging upwards when we found a hidden compound deep underneath the surface. In it was something akin to a research complex with many books. Naturally I had my brood sift through it all in order to learn what it was. We found references to broods similar to mine. And to you, overlord. I do not understand your hate of the word. You are our—
He raised his hand as a warning, his eyes promising a swift death if she spoke it again.
"Do not remind me of my past."

Melena felt his muscles tense all around him. He had never spoken with such vast authority before. What was his past that he protected it so fiercely? She wanted to ask and had gained a lot of his respect so far by being up front with her questions, but even so, this clearly was a subject that was off limits.
The Queen's mandibles split sideways and Melena had the idea that the creature looked fearful.
"Will my brood be punished?"
"I..." he sighed, deeply. "No. They will not. You can dig around that as much as you want. I'll send someone to check it out soon enough as well. If something of my past remains, I'm the one to blame. I'm not yet that much of a hypocrite that I'd destroy you for my own mistakes. But do not remind me of it anymore."
"You command, overlord. I obey. Such is the treaty."
Sensing a chance to change the subject, Melena reached for it with both hands.
"What treaty is it you're talking about?"
"Ah. Well there's an old story," Gaelus said, leaning back in the chair.
"The Comfrith's ancestors met me after a powerful earthquake had levelled a good part of their tunnels and had caused magma to flow through the remainder. Most of their race was driven extinct by it and only a few female eggs survived. They ran into some of my students who brought them to me. I nurtured them back to health. Normally they needed a living Queen to hatch the eggs, but I managed to provide a substitute for the process. After that I guided them to the northern lands. A plague had just passed through there so I knew they could safely regroup on the surface before digging downwards again. They live pretty deep under the surface. In exchange for saving them from extinction, they swore an oath of fealty towards me. The treaty is basically that they are loyal to me and in exchange I keep a few of their eggs here, should disaster befall them again. They're very group-oriented. Individual survival does not concern them. They're a fascinating species, really. A pretty interesting off shoot from the original."
Melena nodded. That was fascinating.
"What was the original like then?"
He ruffled her hair. Right then. Not a question he'd answer. Change of tactics then.

"So why did you bring us here then?"
"The Queen is here because she's one of the only one I trust enough to keep her mandibles shut about the technology I'm going to use. You are here to pester me with questions and keep me entertained enough so that I don't lose focus and end up blowing up the wrong targets."
Melena pinched her nose in annoyance.
"Right, and now from the start, in simple words and in a way I can understand?"
Gaelus grinned. He so loved toying with her and she played the game right back. It was a delight. There were too few people who had the guts to do that.
"I admit to curiosity. Magic is not for your use. Yet you would war them. Will you kill them one by one?" the Queen interjected.
"That wouldn't be very efficient. Not to mention that their mages would likely burn me to ashes before I'd get halfway through that job. No, I have certain things at my disposal. Melena, you're going to have to keep quiet about this as well. If this sort of technology spreads... Well, the last civilisation that used these isn't around anymore and there isn't exactly a lot left of them either."
She nodded, understanding his point.
"It is a rather destructive long range weapon," he began explaining.
As the explanation went on and the details became more and more clear, Melena turned more and more pale until she looked as white as the first snow on a winter morn.

"That is ghastly," she summarised.
"Oh it very much is. But this is war my dear. And a rather tame one at that."
"You call this tame?" she weakly protested
Gaelus closed his eyes and Melena instantly knew she would not like the answer.
When he opened them again they were distant and saw things she could not and did not want to imagine.
"Yes," he said, his voice hoarse and dry. "This is tame."
She swallowed and the Queen clicked softly. Melena looked at her and suddenly found her a lot less frightening than earlier. Compared to the man sitting in front of her a huge bug did not seem so scary anymore.
"And what did you mean when you said that I was supposed to keep you entertained?"

He shook his head, returning to the present.
"Well, this is also going to need to stay between us, but I am not as mentally stable as I once was. Sometimes I lose focus and... Well. How to put this diplomatically?" He pondered the question and Melena could see that he was taking it serious, which was a rarity for him as far as she knew.
"If I lose focus, a lot of the wrong people die," he finally concluded and the look that accompanied that simple statement made her blood turn to ice.

Melena felt like a puppy chasing after her master. They had probably been walking for over an hour now, disappearing deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Mansion. The architecture had changed drastically as they went. Originally it had been mostly wood. Next had been stone, with intricate pillars, but something still relatively human. Now they were undoubtedly deep underground and the walls were pure rock, even if the hall was still going straight and was ridiculously wide. Really, two large carts could easily pass through it.
One part of her mind was also constantly focusing on blocking the smell that hung around this place, while another part was trying to analyse it, but so far she had not made any progress in that regard. She threw a casual glance at the Queen and idly wondered if she had a nose. Given how she had not shown any reaction to the sudden stench, she assumed their kind simply lacked that sense. Gaelus' had not shown any reaction either, but there was really nothing he could be compared with in the first place.

Their walk had been a silent one. Gaelus had not said another word since their departure even though he had been whistling non stop. The Queen, on the other hand, was more of an enigma. Melena could not read her at all and wondered if she was simply the quiet sort or if Gaelus' revelation had shocked her just as much. It was hard to judge her. A different species might possess different morals and Gaelus' accidentally going on a murderous rampage may not bother her if her own 'brood', as she had called it, would not be involved. Honestly there were just too many unknowns in that equation to even hazard a guess. She had more urgent matters to contemplate. Even her worry for Evon had slid to the background, although that was rapidly resurfacing now that she actively thought about him.

He was a strange teacher, but an efficient one. Strange was the wrong word, given how the Mansion functioned in general. Normal was a word that lost its meaning once you became a student. Evon had warned her about that, but that warning could not quite convey just how nonsensical the Mansion and its inhabitants were.
Still, he had taken good care of her. He had Gaelus' strict guidelines to follow, but he had given her as much leeway as possible even at risk of his own well-being. He was kind, gentle when possible, had a ridiculous sense of humour and absolutely refused to conform to any sort of normality at any given time. She had seen him walk on his hands more often than not. Then there were the times when he had just barged into her room to pester her with the most illogical questions. Random hops in subject were very common around him as well. Despite all that she felt safe around him, even if he had seemed frustrated around her. Ever since he had looked into her eyes like that, his behaviour had changed. He hadn't shown it, but she had sensed that he was more wary of her. At first that had bothered her, but then she simply decided to return the favour and had begun studying him in turn, albeit with far more subtlety. He hadn't caught her doing so yet.

She had concluded that, as was probably the case with so many things, Gaelus had been involved. His behaviour had begun to change after he had been summoned to the man's office after all. A few well hidden and diplomatic inquiries later she had discovered that Evon had been stuck at his level for quite a while without making any further progress, despite that he was constantly roaming the world. She, on the other hand, was advancing at lightning speed. The amount of attention she received from Gaelus had made her a target for gossip as well. She hadn't revealed that whenever Gaelus had summoned her, it had been to teach her how to fight with words. Not in brutish, direct clashes, but to subtly lead people. To prod them with words and gain information from them. Seeing how easily he had manipulated her had simultaneously frightened and impressed her. And she had learned. Like a sponge she had sucked up all the knowledge he had given her. Only to apply to it Evon a short while later.

What she had discovered had been both intriguing and humbling. His lack of progress frustrated him immensely and he had been hiding his disappointment by living like a madman and antagonising people at every opportunity. Now he was stuck with someone who was his opposite and was blitzing through the ranks. Apparently it had taken him a decade to move from a three-way split to a four-way split. Meanwhile it had taken her slightly longer than two weeks. He was understandably frustrated, even if he had never shown it to her. His temper had never interfered with his lessons and he had treated her fairly. Sure, he lacked any social decorum, did as he pleased and generally excelled at driving her to her wits' end, but he never failed in making her smile when he did. He was also the first man, Gaelus excluded on account of being utterly inhuman, who completely disregarded her looks. That he treated her like a brother-in-arms was a fair trade for the rough treatment he often gave her. Over the course of the past weeks she had grown to like him and was comforted by his presence. She really hoped he would come out of this war unharmed. Because she knew he was beginning to like her, even if he hated the fact for some reason she had yet to puzzle out.


"You think of your mate?" clicked the Queen, roughly pulling Melena out of her happy thoughts. She found herself carrying a slightly dreamy smile and was quick to adapt a more neutral look. Her awareness folded further outwards and she discovered that the Queen was in frighteningly close proximity and jumped sideways, creating a bit more distance.
"My mate?" she blurred out, taken off guard by the strange question.
"The man up above. Is he your mate not?" The Queen tilted her head and in a sudden flash of insight Melena realised she did that in an attempt to mimic human behaviour.
"He is not," she carefully stated.
"Yet," came Gaelus' sing-song voice from several feet up ahead before he resumed whistling. Lord above, there was nothing that slipped by the bastard.
The Queen stared intensely at Melena as she threw a murderous look at Gaelus while turning crimson, before she turned to Gaelus and started clicking rapidly. He turned around and raised his hands defensively.
"Alright, alright! I'll stay out of the conversation! Pretend I'm not here! No need to call me that many vile names!"

Melena blinked back and forth between the two. Had the Queen just cussed at Gaelus to stay out of their conversation? After she had been so submissive earlier? Her confusion must have been very visible because she felt a mental presence press against her conscious and recognised it as Gaelus'.
'You remind her of one of her daughters, I believe. That, and I need her and she knows it. She may belong to a different species but she's still intelligent.'
She nodded, which caught the Queen's attention and she clicked furiously at Gaelus again.
"No mind speak either. Stay out."

Gaelus' laugh thundered through the tunnel and he waved at them, before increasing the distance between them, giving them what they both knew was an illusion of privacy.
"You are alright?" the Queen clicked, her face tilted again.
"I am fine, your Majesty," Melena carefully responded, lowering her head.
"No titles. No need. Queen is not a title. It is a function."
That answer gave Melena pause.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Queen. Leads. Give birth to new. Soldier fights. Digger digs. Carrier carries. Each is function. Not title. Not like humans."
Melena nodded. That was indeed drastically different from a human society. She blinked as she realised that the Queen suddenly seemed less frightening. It was hard to remain terrified of someone casually making small talk with you. Sure, she looked revolting but like everyone at the Mansion, she was friendly and polite.
"What is your function?" the Queen asked.
"I am a student," she responded. The Queen threw her head back and let out a rapid series of short clicks that Melena identified as laughter.
"Not that. You and your not-mate. What is your function?"
The girl stared at the Queen in confusion and felt her cheeks colour again. Calling Evon a not-mate was hardly an improvement over calling him her mate.
"He teaches," she blurted out. "I just learn."
"Curious," the Queen clicked, increasing Melena's confusion. She was trying to make sense of what the Queen was inferring but was utterly failing.
"Your society is mysterious. Small broods of a few individuals. Then those broods split for no material reason. Very confusing."
Melena laughed at that, earning her another head tilt from the Queen, before she click-laughed in turn.
"I understand. My society mysterious to you, no?"
"Very!" laughed the girl. "But, if we talk more I think we'll eventually start understanding one another."

Only at the Mansion, Melena realised, could an eldrith creature become a comfortable conversation partner in the span of a few sentences. Over the course of the next hour the two of them chatted the time away, slowly learning more about the other's lifestyle. The Queen was a surprisingly good conversationalist. Her questions were well thought-out, even if they were formulated strangely at times and her answers were precise and she elaborated when needed. Through it all she discovered that the Queen had a surprisingly broad sense of humour, even if she was sure that half the jokes went right above her head. It wasn't until the Queen tried to show how her race dug tunnels that Gaelus rejoined the conversation, warning her to not give an actual demonstration. He had done it with a smile, but it had killed the conversation. His intervention brought the two of them back to the present and Melena realised they had been walking for what must be over two hours now, through miles of underground hallways.

Just as she was about to ask him how far it was, he stopped and pointed at a strange device in the wall. It seemed like a metal rectangle sticking out. The Queen's reaction was drastically different; she jumped back and clicked rapidly, panicking slightly.
"What is wrong?" Melena asked.
"Up front. Barrier of fire," the Queen clicked.
"She has a broader range of vision. It is one of the defences installed down here. That plate reacts to my presence," he explained, putting his hand on it. Melena could hear a faint hum and the Queen calmed down again.
"It is connected to a barrier. If you run into it without knowing it is there, you'll be burned to a crisp."
"That... rather drastic, don't you think?"
He shrugged.
"It's a warehouse nobody has any business being in. So no, I don't think it's drastic. Come on you two."
Melena and the Queen followed him in. This time she stayed close to the Queen. Her presence was now comforting rather than frightening, especially given that it was pitch dark in the warehouse and she worried about any other 'defences' that might be around. She heard a soft click as Gaelus did something and all of a sudden lights sprang on from every direction. It blinded her and she blinked rapidly, trying to regain her sight. When it returned she gasped in awe.
The warehouse wasn't very special on its own. It was rather simple in form. Several aisles and a broad central pathway in the middle. She stumbled after Gaelus, slowly turning around as she looked at the strange contraptions around her. They were made of metal, long, with fins at the end. A sharp, broad point at the front and growing increasingly thin as it went on. There were hundreds of them.

"Right, Queen, I'll show you how to pick them up. Don't whack the head into anything or you won't even live to regret it. These things explode and they do so violently."
The Queen walked after Gaelus and listened carefully as he gave his instructions, leaving Melena free to wander through the aisles, looking at the strange weapons. She stopped at one of them and saw her own reflection staring back at her. Her bright, violet eyes looked at her curiously. She stretched out a hand towards the thing before pausing, suddenly unsure if she should touch them.
"BANG!" shouted Gaelus. She screamed and jumped forward, crashing into the weapon. She shrieked and tried to jump back, not caring about her own bruises. She landed rather unladylike and turned around, pale as a sheet but rage rapidly restoring colour to her cheeks.
"You utter ARSE!" she screamed. Gaelus was standing a scant few feet behind her, doubled over, laughing till tears ran down his face. She climbed back to her feet and stomped over to him before punching him in the jaw. When that produced no visible results aside her fist hurting, she tried to kick him in the unmentionables, but that ended just as well as her first attempt, except that it was now her foot that was hurting. Seriously, the man was probably made of metal or something if even that didn't faze him.

The Queen stared at the exchange, holding up one of the weapons. She seemed to be pondering something. As Melena's second attack failed, she walked over to him and raised the weapon high above her head. She gave the human girl a questioning look that transcended the barrier between their species, asking her whether she should hit him with the thing.
She was highly amused when the girl started panicking and yelling at her to put the damned thing down.

"They're surprisingly social species, aren't they? Given that they're insects and those aren't exactly known for being major socialites," Gaelus asked conversationally as he held a thick, metal door open.
Melena slid past him, still throwing angry glares at him while rubbing her bruises. As she entered the new room a shiver ran across her spine. Before she could ask him what that was about, she saw the contents of the room and they made her pause in her tracks. There were glass phylacteries everywhere! Vials, measuring cups and other apparatus that she did not recognise. Along the walls were shelves with tiny glass plates that seemed to contain something that looked like mould. The smell that hung in the room was strange as well. It smelled clean, but of the weird sort.
"Sterile is the world you're looking for. This is what people in older days called a laboratory, when sciences were still a common thing of research. These days only alchemy has really survived along with a bit of herblore. Barbaric really, if you compare it to how far it has advanced in the past. Of course, research tends to bring a certain amount of danger with them. Especially when it comes to biological warfare."
She did not know why but when he said those words she recoiled from the bottle she had been observing.
"Biological warfare?" she asked. She was glad she didn't have to play too many word games with him anymore. If she asked him a short question, he tended to elaborate on the subject on his own rather than having to lure every explanation out of him with intense and inquisitive questioning.

"Oh yes. Weaponizing viruses, bacteria. Modifying the genetic codes of things. Very advantageous. The latter I don't really have any interest in, at least not through a scientific channel. Rather redundant really, but the others are quite interesting. Sadly enough there's a few rather virulent bastard strains out there that some civilisations were a bit too keen on wielding. Biological warfare is fairly similar to fire in that aspect. It burns anything in its path."
"But what does it mean?"
"Have you ever gotten ill?" he asked, throwing her that look that meant he wanted her to think through the implications of the question. She obliged him and let her mind dissect it and look for hidden meanings.
"It is magic to make people sick?"
"Close, but not quite. It is not magic. It is something natural. Tiny critters, so small they are invisible to the naked eye. They are the cause of illnesses. From a plague to a cold, they're the cause of it all. There are certain... I will not bore you with the terminology, but for example there are certain illnesses a type of animal can get, but not others. Or how some people will get ill but others will not, even though they are both infected. Some people are stronger, healthier, sometimes the illness simply isn't compatible..." he waved his hands around as he walked alongside the shelves, looking for something.
"Very dangerous to play with though. In the north there once was a civilisation that discovered a particularly nasty disease. The civilisation itself started crumbling and their neighbours razed them to the ground from afar to prevent it from spreading. They managed to succeed in that, but the plague itself wasn't gone. The laboratory it had been created in had remained intact. Then, roughly a thousand years ago, an excavation team from a different nation, dug up those ruins. That happy little incident resulted in what is now commonly referred to as the Touch of Darkness. Superstitious idiots. Basically wiped out the entire north in the span of a year. It wasn't until they instated a full quarantine that it was finally held in check."
He turned towards her and winked.
"Or so the general story goes."
Her eyes narrowed. The way he held himself, with an almost childish grin...
"You got involved, didn't you?"
He clapped his hands and fished out a small glass container from the shelves.
"This is what caused it all. I went there to get myself a sample of the strain. Made a cure while I was at it at the same time. I don't mind the good old calamity wrecking the world once in a while, but it was a bit too apocalyptic for my tastes."

Melena shook her head and walked to the wall, leaning against it.
"You are utterly insane, you know?"
"Pah!" he yelled as he put the container down on a desk. "Insanity's but a word. I simply have a different... set of base values than you do."
She shook her head, smiling. Every other word that came out of his mouth was just so outrageously impossible. It did make her more and more interested in figuring out what he was though. Possible a suicidal course, but given that he had let her come this close already...
"That reminds me, why me?" she asked. She was not going to elaborate her question. She could play that game as well.
"Because your mind is unique," he immediately answered, bypassing her attempt to make him ask her to explain herself.
"Well, not 'unique', but there's very folks of your calibre around. Razor sharp intellect that cuts through the bullshit, the guts to ask me questions directly even though you're damn well aware of what I am, better than most. I have a surprisingly high tolerance for that kind of people. Other people tend to die if they do half of what you do because they're irritating. With you, however, it is refreshing because you play along. That, and the structure of your mind."
"What do you mean with that?"
"Well, aside that I've done a fair bit of subconscious fiddling to prod you along a bit faster, which you are undoubtedly aware of, your mind runs like clockwork. It encounters problems, dissects them. Even if your emotions get in the way, you silence them pretty quickly if you find rational arguments leading you to have a contradicting opinion. The Queen scared you to death, didn't she? And yet you were chatting amicably with her only a short time later."
"In her defence," she countered slowly," she's not half as frightening as you are, sir I like a good calamity." She took care to keep her face neutral as she said it.

"See? That's what I mean. You throw comments right back at me!" he said, having gathered enough strange looking tools. He went to work, doing things Melena did not even have words for, no matter how deep she dug in her vocabulary. When he looked up to smile at her, though, she noticed that his eyes were glowing, which meant that whatever it was that he was doing, it required a lot of energy.
"So that's the reason you let me tag along then? Because I'm some sort of human curiosity item?"
"Basically."
"I could take offence to that."
That made him pause. He put down the metal tube he was holding and made her look him straight in the eyes. There was no malice in it, only a foreign form of amusement. She absentmindedly realised it had been a while since he had pulled that trick on her.
"Given what you are getting in return?"
"I've not gotten that yet, have I? So far all you've done is made Evon torture me and drag me along where-ever you pleased," she countered, crossing her arms.

He let out a deep laugh and she found herself laughing alongside with him. She knew she owed him much. It was his student who had saved her. He had fed her, sheltered her, clothed her, educated her. He had given her a home, a new family. Friends. A promise of revenge. Everything she had, everything she was, she owed it to him. She began to understand the loyalist faction. She did not agree with them, she still liked to think of her life as her own, but when faced with someone as powerful as her enigmatic master, your own opinion factored in for very, very little.

"If you think that is torture, poor girl. When my apprentice gets back, you should ask her about some of the stuff I made her go through," he casually remarked, shaking his head as he went back to work.
That made her mouth fall agape and a pang of jealousy shoot through her.
"You have an apprentice?" she shouted. It was hard to imagine her teacher having someone like that. It just didn't fit with how she saw him.
"I do. Have for a long time actually. She's a good girl. She has a slightly similar background to yours. Was a slave when I found her. She's something else though, special beyond what words can express."
She bit her tongue. Why was she jealous of someone she never met? To be constantly the focus of his attention had to be impossibly draining. When she looked up at him again she found him to be reminiscing. Him! Just who was this woman that could hold his attention so? What manner of creature could hold sway over someone like him?

"Is she human?" she asked.
"Was. I don't think she qualifies as one any longer to be honest," came the surprising answer. She had not expected Gaelus' very own apprentice
"Like you then?" she carefully asked.
He barked a laugh.
"No, unlike her I was never human to start with."
"You look like one though," she continued, sensing an opportunity to find out more about him.
The air in the room seemed to freeze as Gaelus ceased all movement. Melena felt the hair on her back rise and realised she made a major mistake. When Gaelus finally looked up the colour of his eyes was swirling and the pressure he emitted was rapidly increasing. The swirling slowed down and revealed a crystalline outline in his eyes, giving him a decidedly inhuman look as the pressure skipped the stage of unpleasantness and went straight to crushing.
"No, my dear," he spoke. His voice was different now. Overwhelming. Commanding. It was the voice of absolute authority. His smile was still there, however, but her mind could no longer register it. She was afraid. Terrified. That she would make a mistake. That she would displease him.
"It is the opposite," he continued, walking towards her. She cast her eyes down, knelt as he approached, unable to stop, unable to think. Her slibarin was approaching. How dare a mere creature like her maintain eye contact with a slibarin? The word slipped into her thoughts without her noticing. It just fit.
She felt his fingers touch her chin and she was delighted at his attention, yet horrified that she was not worth it. He tilted her head upwards, made her look into his eyes. His smile was warm, gentle, and it completely filled her mind.

He blinked and his eyes returned to normal, the crushing pressure disappearing instantly. Her sense of balance was gone and she stumbled around, her arms trashing wildly as she no longer knew what up or down was. He caught her gently and held her upright as she stammered nonsense, her mind undergoing a hard reset. She suddenly felt violently sick and threw up, unable to hold it. Gaelus nimbly dodged to the side and helped her up, making sure she didn't dirty herself. He accompanied her to a nearby washing table and stayed with her until her stomach had emptied herself.

She did not know how long it was before she finally regained a semblance of self control and knew she looked horrible, with tears having left streaks alongside her face.
"What was that?" she croaked.
"What did you do?"
"I answered your question, child. It was a fair guess to assume I look human, but I do not."

He gave her a serious look that told her that subject would be closed off now.
"It is the other way around."
She stared at him, frightened. She had seen something that she knew only very few people had been privy to. He had not lied. She had a lot more leeway than the others. She also knew that she would never be able to talk about this to others. It was not a matter of trust on his part. He simply expected her to keep quiet about it. She would. How could she not? A mere human could only show a being like that total obedience.

Still. She had a new goal of her own now. Forget revenge Aware that he would not kill her on a whim, she wanted to know more. She would find out about his past. What he was. Who he was.
Even if it'd kill her.