The castle’s dark was a lonely bitter thing. A heavy blanket that deadens though not to the extent it drank light. It was the kind where simply standing was an act of isolation. So how was it buzzing?

Distant murmurs mingled with the dark. It was not a happy union.

It was bitterly cold. Her breath steemed and she tightened her cloak, but there was only so much mortal cloth could do against preternatural chill. Mist crept along the floor.

She walked like a spooked cat, ginger but quick. She let the rivers of cold biting her ankles lead her to the source of the murmur. She found it soon enough.

A final turn took a room filled with whispering voices and air that hurt to breathe. A great fire sat at the large room’s centre, casting dozens of ambling figures in silhouette.

Cold reduced the fire that should roar as its tongues of flame licked the ceiling into a crackling pile. The wood was suffused with contentment and calm. The essence was released with the rising embers but did little to calm the spirit. It was barely enough to hold off a truly lethal chill.

Two waded into the crowd of her fellow undesirables, bumping shoulders and meeting hissed curses. This was Daisy’s work, Two could think of few things that would merit this.

Two sidled alongside a figure standing by their lonesome. “The boss at it again?” dry humour ladened her tone.

The figure scoffed. “She certainly is, has us poor souls freezing our asses for some big announcement.” Their words, said in good humour, were uncomfortably loud. Yet it was little worse than the ambient chitchat. Two still despised it.

“At least the fire’s smokeless. I’d hate to choke on cold smoke.”

“Aint that the truth.”

Two fuffed and wandered to her next ‘idle conversation’. With every brief exchange, she hoped to find something to shake the nagging worry that an early sale was to be announced. Yet she could find nothing for or against and was left to stew in her paranoia. By the end of it, she stood by one of the room’s exits, nursing numb legs and turbulent thoughts.

Two could not divine what the announcement was about and the crowd shared in the predicament. Among her many concerns, one thought steadily grew. What would she do if Deadra had already been sold? What if all this was just for Daisy to boast?

And once the thought found her it wouldn’t leave. She took a deep breath. The air stung and clawed its way into her lungs. The pain was sharp and cut through her worry.

A series of shallower breaths followed.

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With a settled mind she returned to contemplation. She couldn’t check on Deadra. For though the crowd knew little, they were certain of one thing.

Daisy would arrive soon.

Her coming was heralded by smooth scales clicking against stone and the rush of a silenced room. She slid into the crowd parted for her, leaving plentiful space for her passage. She slid into view a dark sinuous figure. Only growing more ominous when the fire’s light shone on her features.

A wide smile split her face revealing sharp teeth and sharper fangs that took the place of her canines. The room was quiet as she circled the bonfire once the twice for emphasis. She was the only one by the once-crowded fire.

No longer was shDaisy clad in casual indulgence, now she wore authority. A bright red cloak was draped about her and flowed across the scales covering her tail. A white undershirt that showed through her cloak’s deep v and hugged her generous chest completed the visage.

Daisy was suprised at the absence of jewlwry.

Daisy easy chuckle tore throgh her idel thoughts. Filled the quiet and heraled the return of the spirits ire.

“I’m glad to see I have your attention.” She said, her unmoderated voice brought a wave of chill, but showed nor rge slightest care and none complained. Her smile grew wider. The fire winkled in her sharp yellow eyes. “I’ll not keep you in suspense my fellows. Opportunity has run thin as the governor drains our home of its people. The time has come for us to leave this city.”

Fear and anger perfumed the air. They hadn’t known.

“But!” the serpent said. Her intonation sending a snap of chill. “We shall not scurry away life the outcast and the desperate. Nor shall we be swallowed by the governor’s designs.” A teasing smile quirked her lips and her gaze swept the room.

Two could taste their amusment their eyes didn’t pause but Two felt seen.

“Thanks to the hard work of you who have stayed and worked through the governor’s tightening noose. We shall not slink away as cowards, or made servants by those who condemened us to this slum. We shall leave as victors! I shall rule in a new place and you loyal few shall rule with me.” Her tone was sickeningly sweet.

Joy and pride swept through the room. Whispers and chuckles spread even as the temperature plummeted and the castle was stirred ever further from its rest. All the while Daisy’s amusment lingered.

She held herself still against the urge to run.

Two had learned much from Daisy. She’d learned how to talk, how to lie how to smile. Through lessons borne of teaching and observation she had learned. Yet she’d could never earned why people where so easily convinced.

Apart of her yearned to revile the thoughtless lot. Stewing in their ill earned victory, but a quiet yet insistent notion stopped her. After all she like them once upon a time.

And amongst the lessons she had latched onto one always stood. The best liars rarely lied, they simply applied the truth with care.

“So!” Daisy proclaimed, the snap of cold silenced the crowd. “The buyer of our parting prize arrives soon and you.” She declared smiling so kindly all could believe the words ere meant just for them. “My dears just need to stand tall, confidant and quiet. It wouldn’t to give a poor performance after all.”

New manacles had joined the bracelets weighing on her wrist. Even heavier ones chackled her legs. The frigid metal chilled her to the bones. She felt weak. Like when she had yet awakened to even the first phase of cultivation. Even back then she had never felt so vulnerable.

It took everything just to breathe and walk. She felt a brush away from the abyss.

She stumbled and a hard shove threw her into motion and after a flailing snuggle, to her knees. A sharp pain stuck her as she hit the floor. The cut on her finger reopened and all her acumulated aches seemed to sgout as one. She held her cry lest they worsen the sapping chill brought by her jangling chains.

“Butch.” The winged servant said. His voice calm yet laden in derision. “You are not to hurt her.”

“Ya, ya” her tormentor chuckled. “It's just funny ain’t it Terry? This prissy lass flailing her arms like a chicken.”

“Butch.” A hand reached down and Deadra sized it and struggled to her feet. She looked at the face of her helper. It was the moth. His hand was warm. She looked for words of thanks, desperate for a friend like Two and desperate to cling to familiar comfort of politeness. Her words died on her lips.

His hand was warm, but only cold distaste rested in his eyes. She released his hand and fought to her feet. She red the disgust in his eyes when the blood she’d left behind. The brute stumbled behind her, raising high the lantern that guided them to better take in her debasement.

The moth wiped his hand with a handkerchief. Watching her with cold eyes as he did.

She stumbled forward, her chains changed, the cold sank deeper into her limbs and just a bit went even further. Into the place the many bindings prevented her from reaching. Where her essence lie shacled. It too grew a bit colder.