The Bheorse Elder called off Cebrice's chase on Daress. Bile and vitriol sat in his stomach at the call, but he couldn't disobey. Neither could the rest of his pack.

Mofrim was still waiting in that dark, empty room, just as he had been told to. He sat on the antique couch beside a wall of books and an unlit fireplace, staring at the wall. The three of them came back there to be with him. They didn't know what to say.

Cebrice realized as he came near that he could finally read Mofrim's mind. He had no way to put up his usual barrier. Even so, it felt strange. Wrong, somehow. It was unfair to pry into his head without him being able to pry back as an equal. But when Cebrice first came in, he couldn't help but reach out telepathically. He only got a flash before he suppressed it. Mofrim was terrified on the inside.

It didn't matter that Mofrim was not able to connect with the ancestors; he was still part of their pack. No matter what, he was one of them till the end.

"How are you holding up?" Cebrice asked him in his mind. Even though he wouldn't be able to communicate as clearly or open the channel between them, Cebrice would be listening.

Cebrice tapped into his consciousness.

Not good was the answer, though minds without the ancestors couldn't communicate so clearly. Emotions flooded in as well: disappointment. Fear. Failure. How could this have happened? No, how was this possible?

He looked between the other members of his pack. Beltal and Runeik all shared in the emotion together and floundered all the same.

Maybe the Elder could help. He said he would be coming to see Mofrim. It didn't take long for him to show himself. Until then, they sat together in silent mourning.

The Elder took his time coming into the room. He was careful not to touch anything, as if it were a bacteria that took Mofrim's ancestry. He frowned, his face heavy with concern, and sat down on the couch opposite Mofrim. He peered down at the boy. Issik was a stringy old man, but he was as tall as Mofrim, if not more, and his lifetime of training made him far stronger than his appearance. They were still. Issik was staring at Mofrim as if his eyes could pierce him completely. They probably could. Mofrim was staring right back. Issik was assessing, but Mofrim was waiting for judgment without any defenses left. He had nothing to give, only his pride. Despite him not wanting to peek at the internal conversation, he couldn’t help himself. Although Issik's mental shield was impenetrable, Mofrim was pleading, begging not to be made an Orphan.

Cebrice understood, but he held his breath. Begging did not suit the Bheorse. This alone couldn't get him far.

“Let us find her.” Cebrice said. They would earn him back his dignity and place in the Family.

Rune agreed immediately. “That girl is responsible for this somehow. We almost had her. We will get her, and she will release whatever curse she has him under.”

“The ancestors couldn’t be mad at him. He’s one of us through and through,” Beltal added. “I know him completely.” She looked between them and said, “We all do.”

Cebrice closed his fist and nodded. Sure, Mofrim didn’t always give everything away. He was a private person, as far as the Bheorse went. But he worked on that in order to better serve the family. Cebrice suddenly realized that's what the Elders did. It hadn’t clicked with him before, but Mofrim was being specialized to train the next generation. Controlling his own mind above others, having the ability to discipline through the manipulation of pain. He had been working towards the esteemed position of leader.

He remembered his conversation with Rune about her goal to kill Issik when she was strong enough. Or at least hurt him like he had hurt all of them. Cebrice supported her goal. He understood, though maybe he wasn’t brave enough to do something like that himself. But it was still a worthy goal. Would Mofrim have had to deal with a student like that someday? He couldn't think about this stuff with Issik there; he would hear it. But it wasn't as if he didn't already know. Surely, Issik knew about Rune's plans as if they were his own.

Rune had mixed feelings but wanted Mofrim back all the same.

Beltal was mentally quiet, disagreeing with them about the Elders. But now wasn't the time to get into it. It was a complicated thing. The Bheorse were doing their best to create a strong family. One that could protect the entire city.

Of course, Beltal was right. She was always right.

Issik finished with Mofrim after a moment and stood up.

Cebrice couldn't read their expressions well enough and so had to ask, “What’s going to happen to him?”

Issik still looked down at Mofrim, speaking about him as though he weren't there. "He will not be made an Orphan. Not yet. If you can find the culprit and bring her to us, then we may be able to undo the effects of this curse. Consider this your first mission."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Cebrice could feel Mofrim’s heart break at the words. He would be missing their first mission. But Cebrice was quick to step in. “No. You won’t be missing it, Mof. We’re going to get your help somehow. We won’t leave you out.”

Rune ground a fist into her palm. “We will make her pay for what she has done to you together. We promise. Don’t you want revenge? You might not have some of the extra abilities, but you can still track and run, can’t you? And you don’t need to read minds to have one.”

Mofrim smiled, despite himself. A goofy look broke on his face. His voice cracked, and he held back tears. “Thanks. Yeah. Um. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Issik walked out of the room, having given his orders. They knew what they had to do and the consequences if they failed.

Once he was gone, Beltal plopped herself down and wrapped her arms around him. Cebrice and Rune came over and joined in a group hug.

Mofrim couldn't resist choking out sobs in their arms.

—

Mofrim decided that he would go back to the Bheorse Home. He was emotionally and spiritually exhausted, after all. Cebrice and the rest of his pack accompanied him to his carriage. Cebrice wanted to go with him, but they decided to get a head start on their duty. They couldn't capture the culprit tonight at the ball, but they could find out where she would be tomorrow.

This whole situation felt so wrong. Mofrim didn’t deserve to be in this kind of position. He was a good person. He always worked hard and stuck to Bheorse values.

As fond as he was of Mofrim, he could feel Beltal was in the most pain out of those still there. Beltal knew Mofrim's secrets in greater detail than themselves. Unlike the other two members of the pack, they were equals in the Family both in position and strength. She had lost her best and closest friend.

But the show must go on. They went back to the ball, like putting on a mask.

Something was different when they returned. A group of Eazu were attending to some people on the floor along one side. There was a strange whistling in the air. Something wasn't right here.

It wasn’t long then that the imps came in through the windows.

All Families had their weapons taken at the door when they first entered, so they had to make it up as they went. They took up some steak knives from an empty table and passed them between them.

To confuse the creatures, they worked to create illusions. They planned to draw them outside or lower their accuracy.

But the imps seemed to almost ignore them.

They swooped right through the illusions. One passed through the illusion and swarmed onto Beltal. All Cebrice could make out was beating wings and swiping claws. She screamed in fury and knocked it to the floor with a slash of the knife.

Then Cebrice realized. Sound. It had to be by sound. Sound illusions weren’t their forte, but they could try. They focused less on creating the image and more on creating the sound in the minds of the imps.

It was hard to know if it was sound or if any mind tricks would work on them. How intelligent were they, anyway?

He listened to their scrambling minds. Each of them had two faces, but one mind between them. He hadn’t been sure of that at first. The mind he encountered was more alien than what he had ever felt before. Instead, their heads had a whole language. Something that he couldn’t understand but that had an internal sense to it. Words he couldn’t recognize or even pronounce. Concepts he couldn’t comprehend. He felt lost in their heads. He was entering an entire world beyond anything he had ever experienced.

Beltal pushed him out of the way of one of them swooping in. He had been standing there. Beltal got clawed past her shoulder. It was a scratch, but it was enough to make them both wince. He patted his face to wake himself up. If he was going to do this, he had to work fast and work better. No more putting other people in danger.

Beltal knew that he could do this.

If she was right and he could relate to them, then could he ever command the dragon? He was getting ahead of himself. Head in the game.

There must be something that he could do to link with the imps.

If only Rohchec was there, he would be able to control their dragon and stop this entire thing.

The imps seemed to ride the dragon, from what he could see. Both creatures seemed to blend together. They both had many heads, although the imps had wings rather than telekinesis. That being said, they seemed comfortable when the Dar Yi tossed them around with it.

There was greed in their minds. An ambition. An envy. A worship. Two perspectives fought over the same mind. Two faces. They tore in different directions, and all the stimulus they took in muddled their decisions.

They wanted to be the dragon, Cebrice realized. This envy drove them to violence and rage. Even with one another. There was competitiveness.

He dove deeper. There. He found it beneath the chaos and the rage. Fear, like a cage. He realized they were prey animals. He could sense the dragon's many teeth. Unavoidable. Failure and sacrifice. Fear and hatred. Envy became loathing. The dragon was a figure of oppression for the imps.

Working together, the imps could even destroy it. He touched on something core to them. There had been stories of dragon hunters in their pasts, but they ended in tragedy. Only after the victory over the host dragon did they realize how weak and frail they remained. They did not absorb its power, as they had prayed. Their wings were frail, and they were not strong enough to fly far. Instead, they were stranded. There was no way for them to traverse the tunnels alone. Other creatures of the dark would hunt them down and out. Nothing would whisk them to safety.

All these thoughts hit him in a moment. Cebrice felt a wave of sadness course through him. The dragon remained their crutch. Fear drove them and protected them. They were more intelligent than he had realized.

They were the same.

The ancestors, too, had many faces, all facing different directions. He had to rely on them to take him where he needed to go, so that he would never be too weak. So that he had a place in this world.

How unfair. How unjust. Could an imp not just be an imp without the dragon? Was there ever a place for the imp? Was there ever a place for a human?

No. They told him. They had tried it once before. They failed. That was why. That was why he had made his promise. He promised for their good. They would help him. They would help everyone. Don’t worry. Don’t worry.

You will never be alone, Cebrice.

He was suddenly looking through two heads.

He remembered his training and resisted getting lost in it. He made the decision to retreat. It was for the best. They'll only get hurt here, and the dragon will be moving on. He didn’t manage to move some of them fast enough. Still in their minds to experience the shocking pain of the steak knife plunging in. His connection was severed. He collapsed and caught his breath. There wouldn't be time for this in a serious fight. They had no way of knowing which enemy he had connected with. They would have to work on their teamwork for future enemies.

But with time, one after another, the imps fled. The dragon had begun drilling the ceiling of the Dar Yi tunnel. With the shrieks of the imps dampened, they could hear the crunch of rock echoing above the Dar Yi Home.