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1-6

Two looked at the pattern painted onto her arm. Dark red runes flowed into each other. Closer to a painting that curled around her scales than any language she’d seen.

She could feel the first working.

How her ever-present anxiety sharpened. Sent her heart racing. Made breathing challenge. As every possible way, this could go wrong. Rushed to explain in excruciating detail why they were the worst.

Instant death was only mildly convincing.

As her heart skipped. The feeling drained and challenged by the second. To charge the third.

Then the cycle repeated.

She dropped her sleeve and sat on a crate. She couldn’t calm down. Couldn’t try or she might ruin everything.

Her terror peaked, her heart skipped a beat. She gasped and clutched her chest. The feeling fell.

She glared at the posh chicken while she had the presence of mind. They apathetically returned her gaze.

Ink, blood, a pen and she was reduced to this. With less than ten minutes of work.

Nobles were terrifying. Why did she think she could do this? Maybe she was under her spell. Her spiralling thoughts dove off a cliff.

The emotion drained. She could think again. She found something else to look at.

She took a breath. Of the buildings musty air. In. Out. In. She could afford to lose control. She’d panic in the comforts of her head. No one else needed to know.

She rode the next wave without a whimper. She could do this.

The door swung open. Butch swaggered in. He smirked at the prisoner. His gaze landed on her. They swept the room. He scratched his pointed beard. “Where are the boys,” confusion curled his lips. He closed the door.

She sighed, it masked a tremor.“In the tunnels,” She tersely replied.

“Why’s that? The boss didn’t put you in charge of this did she?“

She measured her words. Butch knew Daisy’s plan, a lie wouldn’t work here. But anger would. “No, but if she’s going to make me a part of this. I’m making sure it goes well. Those idiots threw her into the cell and managed to cut her.”

He scrutinized the trapped woman. He noted her wrapped wrist. “It gonna be a problem.”

“No, I dealt with it.”

He grinned and spun approaching Two. She froze in terror. “Good lass, Finally stepping up,” He clapped her back. The force replaced her panic with shock. She used the time to gather herself.

She glared at him. He smirked, then broke into chuckles.

“Though you’re still a twig.”

If the Salen’s killed then all. She hoped he suffered.

She waited for his laughter to end. “What is the boss planning?”

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“Gainful employment,” he smirked.

Sheer frustration beat fear. She glared, “Butch.” She hissed.

His laughter filled the room. “I’m being honest, we do this then we leave the city. New opportunities, fresh heads to crack.” His eyes almost sparkled.

“New crimes to commit.”

He waved her off, “they won’t be crimes. They’ll be enforcement actions. The boss made that clear to me.”

She glanced at Deadra. She sighed to cover her shakes. “So nothing changes.”

“Everything does! We won’t be livin’ in trash or depressed ruins.” He swept his hands out. He leaned to her face. “Who knows maybe you’ll get your precious bakery.” Laughter filled his eyes. “Between jobs of course.”

She retreated. And hated himself for it. He smiled and continued on his rant. Fury joined fear. Melting into a desperate urge to kick and scream and lash. That she swallowed with an impassive mask.

They drained away. They surged again. She didn’t shake.

The doors swung upon.

Daisy slithered in followed by a tall antlered man.

Two pushed herself to her feet. And willed herself to be ignored.

Sunrise flashed in Daisy’s eyes. Quickly masked behind a smile. The tall bronze-skinned man beside her. Clad in a suit. Only had eyes for the raven

They stepped in. Butch closed the door. His usual smirk abandoned.

The stag clopped into the room. On hooved feet. He stopped before the cage and stared. His face stern and impeccable.

He tasted strange. Calm, yet marked with boredom and curiosity. But there was something more.

He was a cultivator. That was clear to her, from Butch’s deference, and Daisy’s restraint. All cultivators felt something strongly. It fueled their strength. Let them bend nature. Allowed their highest to redefine reality.

It defined them.

She took slow drags of the air. To find it.

Her worry rose and fell. Like a ponderous jittering heart. Seconds spilled to minutes in silence. As the man stared. The room waited.

Pride. On her tongue Pressed against the others’ emotions. Looming over her sporadically racing heart. Never quite pressing.

In everything he did,

“You have outdone yourself, Miss Daisy.” He droned in s smooth voice. That ground its way past his unsmiling lips.

“You flatter me, lord Peter.” A smile bloomed on her lips.

“Perhaps but it is flattery well earned.” He swept his gaze across the room. It paused on her. She tasted a spark of curiosity. She wanted to swear.

Daisy noticed. “Pull your hood down two.”

She complied. With the faint hope, she was just a curiosity.

“Hmm,” his gaze roomed her face. Pausing briefly on her eyes. Before sweeping down. Did he notice the runes? She kept still. Resisting the urge to hide her marked arm. Trusting indifference to protect her one more time.

His gaze returned to her eyes. “You are tainted.” He said conversationally.

Her terror crested a new wave. “Yes lord,” the words were barely a whisper.

He nodded and his attention passed. “Your daughter is very unfortunate.”

Daisy, Sighed. “Indeed, I worry for her fate…” the following words trickled away.

Her heart had settled.

***

History filled every cobbled stone of the cities. street. Where they were mined. Which hands made them? What role did they play?

Their guide answered a fraction of the questions that danced in his thoughts. Yet it was enough, to seize his attention.

It was so different!

Despite his hours of study. It hadn’t settled. How different the mortals where. But he was surprised and confused, along every step of their hours long tour. Happy to be both.

Leandra Salen, froze as Terra was showing them yet another fountain. With a long history dating a thousand years. When her family still ruled from this city.

Igni noted the change in her aura. Lux followed a beat later. He spun to face the small avian, “Are you okay?” He spoke for both of them.

“What,” Leandra leaned back as if struck. Her eyes are wide and darting. Igni resisted the urge to reach out and soothe her heart. He’d been advised against it.

Lux glanced at Igni, he understood. “Where to help and learn from your people.” Igni stepped into her line of sight. “Can we help you,” he hoped his sincerity cut through whatever had come over her.

Her feathers ruffled. Like a hatching about to break. She settled. “Yes. I’ve received an urgent call for aid,” her eyes hardened, “I expect trouble.”

Lux grinned broadly. ”Where,” his wings flared.

“Follow me,” then they were gone in a gust of wind.

Igni sighed. Lux. Sometimes he wished he had their energy. But someone had to be calm. He hoped they’d be okay.

He shook his wings and turned to the others. “Are you coming,” they stared at the retreating figures. incredulous.

“Certainly,” Terra said through a forced smile. Aubert nodded.

Igni raised his wings. He paused. “Do you want me to carry you,” it seemed polite. They blinked at him.

“No,”

“No,”

Igni raised his wins again. He hoped they didn’t need to call Curio.