With the hood of their cloak raised, the magical effect took place; covering them both in invisibility absolute. Helped by Quinn's spell and their boots, they become truly undetectable to all that's too absorbed by the fighting, including the duke.

Ana eyes the man for a moment, studying his movement, the way he screams order from atop his horse. She supposes it's an almost wonderful kind of a try, to be an actual leader, but imagines him as no better than her or General Adder. All three of them merely sentence people to death, before they themselves are condemned to it by forces more powerful than themselves.

In this case, it was Quinn, whose back Ana watches vigilantly to preoccupy her from the grim thought that just pay her a visit. A distracting notion, though observing Quinn's back isn't preferable either, it nearly made her wish she doesn't have the spell that allows her to see through invisibility. Almost.

She must admit she rather enjoy this, being far from the scream of dying people and in the company of a woman that are about to be her friend. Ana undoubtedly hopes so they can be at least that close, where physical contact is no longer hard or taboo, somebody that views her as an equal and doesn't rely on her.

And, if she's forced to dream even bigger, with a sword against her neck, that she's certainly more than ready to say that she wishes she and Quinn can become more than friends—"We're here," the woman that has distracted her in body and mind whispers giddily.

Such delight at the fact that she's about to murder another make Ana shivers, in disgust and something else entirely. Ignoring the sensation, she nods as an answer to Quinn, who's able to see her with specialized glasses instead.

This is the most dangerous portion, for their target is surrounded by loyal combatants eager to die for him, and Quinn must press past them, revealing her existence by touch alone.

She tries to make it seem natural, of course; swindling the harsh wind to follow her into the soldiery and makes them believe they're a part of her. But that illusion doesn't last forever.

The duke is no simpleton, Ana can see flashes of recognition in his eyes as two militias near him unwillingly kneel down, Quinn using them as a jumping board, her dagger in hand aiming straight for Duke Holloway's heart and meeting his broadsword instead, pushing her backwards.

"I know you're here, Assassin!" the duke screams. "Reveal yourself!"

Quinn, whose bracelet was activated now float through the air, not arrogant or fool enough to oblige Duke Holloway request, and the duke understood it, too.

With a click of a tongue, it speaks in a language foreign and sacred, revealing his intention quickly to Ana who refuse to sit on the sideline idly. She counters the spell, dissipating its arcane energy before it could bend reality to the duke's advantage.

He knew now his attacker is at least two individuals, maybe more. "Find their co-conspirators!" he orders as instinct allows her to block yet another blow with the still invisible Quinn who favors Ana with a thankful smile as she's once again thrown back.

A smile Ana can't return in any way, for Duke Holloway has mobilized its personal guards in search of her. Knowing full well she will be unable to fulfill her duty to the fullest if she was to be uncovered, she tries her best to avoid them while still paying attention to the fight.

As she dances with the bodyguards, Quinn also dances with the duke himself. No, Ana realizes, she's toying with him. Not only from the way she smiles, but also from the truth that she's obviously faster than him, her weapon coated in poison that melts old and cold iron.

If she wanted him dead, she would have it minutes ago, whenever she wished to, in fact. Which raises the question to Ana, chief among them are: why is she toying with him? Cruelty? Some sort of sadism? Is she genuinely that terrible of a woman that—?

Rooted in place by such a thought, the sentries manage to find her. By luck, the blunt ends of their spear manage to hit her, not hard enough to leave permanent damage, but sufficient to squeak her voice alone.

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The guards pursue her based on sound alone, something that wouldn't be enough for an individual; an entirely different story for a dozen of them. Each with halberd in hand, quick to stab and slice.

Ana ready herself, this will be the third time in her life she has to face an armed group of people all alone—"Matriarch!"—or not.

Quinn reveals her own location by screaming after her, making the same mistake Ana make. Involuntary, too, by the flash of regret on her visage shortly after. Again, the sound was taken advantage of.

"There you are!" Duke Holloway slices in a downward arc in the direction of Quinn's voice with a strong enough force not only to bend her to her knee, but to also causes the hood of her cloak to fall, dispelling the magic that protects her.

Scarlet red colors the ground, but there's more noise from Quinn. She shoots a quick smile towards Ana before she finally threw her dagger to the duke, aimed straight at his heart.

And without fail, in an explosion of movement, she follows her dagger close to the duke who struggles to give a fast enough response.

The guards that's just a moment ago about to be upon her, return her attention to the duke—and by extension, Quinn—attempting to stop the woman from murdering their leader, but Ana knew there's no intercepting it.

The next instant, red once more graces the ground, fertilizing it. It came from the heart of the man whose armor was melted by poison and body were pierced by a dagger.

"You fucking dog...," he curses while whining from the pain.

"I'm no dog, Holloway," the woman answers, proudly. "I'm a snake." As she plunges another dagger to Duke Holloway's throat, decisively ending the fight, but not the battle.

That part is entirely dependent by their own forces capitalizing on the demoralized enemy after Quinn screamed: "Duke Holloway is dead!" At the top of her lungs, an arrogant smile adorns her face now as she jumps off the body.

Ana almost felt happy for her—with her—until she catches a glimpse of clarity from the duke's eyes. Not only was that man not yet lost, but he's still orchestrating something. Something righteous, yet foul and cruel at the same time—a curse.

As soon as realization strikes her, Ana stops herself from screaming her warning to Quinn, not wishing to repeat the identical mistake as she instead chose to rush the woman who simply stands still as Duke Holloway's personal guards approaches, obviously has another plan in mind.

Whatever it was, Ana never gets to see it, for Quinn never got the chance to use it. Before anyone could reach her, the duke utilizes the last of his strength to attack Quinn from behind, straight at her heart; a fair and ironic vengeance.

With a spell, Ana teleports to catch the woman before she hits the ground and gets a concussion. And again, she teleports them both away when the soldiery is almost upon them.

Now, the sound of the battle is far more distant, though it can still be heard if one tries hard enough. Ana doesn't. She focuses all her attention towards the woman in her lap instead, looking up at her with a smile still, glorious and prideful, but also pained.

"I am... glad!" Quinn forces the statement out, "That you're the last sight I see, Matriarch."

"I won't be the last sight you see, Ms. Quinn, I promised you."

"Some promises... just...! Can't! Be! Kept!" Each word is almost like a cough, agonizing.

"All of mine can," Ana reassures her as she studies her body, trying to find a clue as to what kind of curse has been inflicted upon her. And what she quickly discovered as she persists in making small talk with Quinn to maintain her conscious aren't heartening.

All of her prosthetics are losing power, which can only mean one thing.

"Your heart," Ana mutters in horror, putting her hand on Quinn's left chest.

"Ha! Yeah..., my heart," Quinn replied, an amused smile plays on her face.

Ana doesn't respond to the smile, the gear inside her mind turning and turning, searching for any kind of solution to this problem. She doesn't want Quinn to die, and not just because she already promises her safety.

Yet, no remedy offers itself clearly to her. The ritual it would require to replace a power source gifted by a deity would need days, sometimes weeks of preparation. And resurrection is rarely successful, even if all of the specifications have been fulfilled.

But surely, there must be something, anything at all that—"May I know your name now, Matriarch?" As if noticing Ana's frantic worry, Quinn's voice cuts her off.

The smirk on her lips is honest and kind now, almost playful, as if she's not dying.

Ana gazes this woman on the eye, then; trying to gather the strength to tell her that she can't save her, unable to help her, but can realize a promise made not two hours ago.

"My name is Ana Monte," she reveals with a furtive and sad smile. "And I...." She spies a look of horror on Quinn's face and nearly ask her what's the matter when answer finally came upon her.

She takes out her dagger and hovers it over her own chest, where her heart beat still. And with another hand above Quinn's bosom, she repeats herself.

"My name is Ana Monte." Her expression's serious. "The current Matriarch of the Temple of the Great Mother, and leader of the Chapter of the Holy Fire." Her voice's grim and severe. "And I won't let you die today, Ms. Quinn." As she plunges the knife deep into her ribs.