Fomoria was upset that Harlan so clearly refused him, but it was what it was.

A presence snuck up behind him suddenly as he sat in the menagerie, thinking about solutions.

As a dagger was placed to his throat, so too did a sharp tail press against the would-be assassin.

“D’if, what exactly are you doing?”

“I was worried you were losing your edge, so I had to test you.”

He flipped the dagger around and sheathed it once more.

“I need a proper blacksite, the kind that only a man like you could build.”

“Why?”

“What kind of empire would this be without a secret prison and interrogation center?”

“What is this really about?”

“I’m dying.”

Fomoria couldn’t tell if D’if was serious or not, there wasn’t an ounce of fear in his voice or his mind.

“I know. I gave you at best an extra five years. I’ve been out here for two, so you have at least 4 left, assuming you had a year before I returned your youth.”

“I don’t think that I have done enough to repay you, to set up the next generation of spies for you.

I’ve got candidates, I’ve been training people, but you-”

“I know that you don’t care about repaying me, and if you didn’t think I could find you and make you suffer a fate worse than death, you would’ve fled a long time ago.”

“I want people to call it D’if’s House. I sure as shit never raised any of the kids I fathered, so this is going to be my legacy.”

“The world will lose much of its light when a noble soul like you passes from it.”

D’if shrugged.

“Speak with Mercedes. I want something that you would consider suicidal to break into or out of, and I do mean that. You’ll be dead inside of a decade, so don’t worry about a theoretical situation where you need to break out so you add a weak point.”

“I would never-”

“I can admire your honesty with me, but you are a deeply dishonest man, not a shocking trait for a spy.”

“Oh, you wound me. Whatever have I-”

“Alright, the game is done now. Go to Mercedes.”

Fomoria went back to the lab, looking over a very long and exhaustive written list of everything his Others tried, and the list was growing by the hour.

It was impressive to work with people like him, that were him, that never stopped, that tried everything, including those far enough outside of the orthodox that they could likely claim their own archmage titles if they pretended not to be him.

He found one of the files listed as inconclusive, but it wasn’t clear what the experiment was or why it didn’t work.

Fomoria went to the test room.

“The file was light, what are we doing?”

“A personality shift could be applied by overwriting the soul of the Cast with your soul. But, without you, this is nothing but theoretical.”

“I can’t fix every Cast, we need a solution that can be given to others.”

“Or we get enough of them fixed that we offer the solution, but only if they show us the nursery and then we can-”

“No.”

“Very well. I’d like to see if this works regardless. And they could use it, if we gave them the right level of soul mastery.”

“That would require that I trust them in any appreciable way; I don’t want to imagine a dozen Urs or Seraphallen running around even if they lacked their Hand abilities. But, I will try this anyway.”

The Cast survived, but the two souls were too unlike the other to coexist, and something more like an orc was made.

The flesh was in some places soft and gray, and in others hard and metallic.

The face became too small for the head that stretched to fit sharp features, giving it a chin and ears that could slice like daggers.

But little mattered in the face of its own reaction, that it simply went comatose as both souls vied for control but neither could destroy the other without destroying themselves.

“Keep an eye on it. See how quickly the souls fuse, and if they do. Once you see no further progress, I want you to try splitting the souls. I find it unlikely much will come from this, so I’m giving you an allowance of 50 Cast.”

The sheer number of defective Cast boggled the mind, and Ur sent them by the shipful.

He went back to silently thinking about how he might fix the Cast, hoping for the seemingly divine intervention that mages were said to sometimes gain.

But everything was still too loud.

So Fomoria wandered the halls of his home and ran into an expected guest.

Phoebe walked up to him and bowed deeply.

“Please train me. Lady Yara-”

Fomoria laughed and she became red with embarrassment.

“Stop, I was trying really hard.”

“So don’t. Yara said that she agreed to me training you. Are your parents here?”

“I’m staying with Mosley and Bly.”

“Are they staying together?”

“Bly sleeps in a lot.”

“Are they together?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“They’re together all the time, why?”

She was too young to understand what he was actually asking, so he dropped it.

Besides, whatever Mosley did wasn’t really his business unless it interfered with his ability to do his job.

Fomoria tracked down Mosley and made sure that he knew where she was and what she wanted to do.

Mosley gave the thumbs up, so Fomoria brought Phoebe to the Spire of Other, yet a thought came to him; training just one child was too easy.

They reacted with amazement being so high up that Kor was just a speck below them, then backed away from the edge.

Except Phoebe, who sat at the edge and kicked her feet, letting the wind blow her hair.

“Nana, I am going to start with you. How do you feel like you’ve changed magically since we last met?”

“I can imbibe three elements, and I can save those who have been decapitated. It was… a strange morning when I learned it, and Miss Elk wasn’t there to help me.”

“Very good, and combat training?”

“I… I’m trying.”

“Kel, spar with Nana, start defensive.”

Nana was overwhelmed magically even by the simple things, but she tried to rush forward for a physical confrontation. It would’ve been ridiculous for a Plest to try such a thing against an Ibexian, but Nana’s imbibing was rather good, though a crutch.

She skimmed across the ground with great speed, but Kel had a little bit of experience fighting things since the guards would let her and Jake tag along while clearing goblins and Wargs.

A small bump moved across the ground and suddenly sprouted with vines that caught the young Plest by the ankle, then more bound her arms.

Stuck in place, she could do little to defend herself from the stone coming her way.

Yet instead of pain, she only felt dust on her scales; Fomoria punched from afar with aura.

“Kel, that wasn’t necessary.”

His voice was cold and his gaze harsh.

“I was just trying to win.”

“You won when she couldn’t fight back. I know that you want to impress me, but no matter what you do you will not be moved in ranking. Nana is the top student because she is a good mage, and not because she could win a fight. But, I must commend you for your excellent use of earth and nature magic to create creeping vine bombs and then move them around like a shifting minefield.

Nana, you are fast, imbibing makes sure of that, but imbibing is like body fortification by cycling mana, it will only enhance what you can already do. If you shave a second off of a sprint, then imbibing could turn that to ten seconds, an extra pound you can lift could be a hundred. Work on your body, not just your magic.”

“I’ve been using imbibing to lift heavier weights to-”

“You are straining your body more magically than physically and you won’t gain as much muscle mass if you rely on that. I thought I had this explained to you already.”

As he gave Nana and Kel pointers, then told them to play a game from the academy where one would tell their opponent exactly what they were going to do so they could try to find a counter within a few seconds, shouting brought his attention to the edge where Phoebe had been sitting.

“CATCH ME!”

It was not fear that he felt from the girl.

The others started running towards the edge.

“STOP.”

“BUT SHE-”

“She willingly jumped off so that I would catch her, that is not a lesson I want her to learn.

I will wait, let her think that I haven’t noticed, then I can catch her. Go back to your game, Jake, join them.”

He stood there at the edge, his eyes let him keep track of her and even see her facial expressions as she fell.

Once he saw that she was starting to cry, he jumped down, letting gravity and air magic turn him into a bullet.

He was falling feet first, and noticed a large insect of some kind was rushing towards the young girl, so he slightly changed his direction.

When Fomoria struck the hard shell he passed through, but the sound was like a bullet.

He caught up with Phoebe when she was just a few thousand feet from the ground.

His grip was gentle, and they slowly came to a stop.

Instead of going back up, he set her on the ground.

Her legs were like jelly and her eyes full of tears.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CATCH ME.”

“No, you weren't supposed to jump. What if I had been distracted? What if one of them had used a loud spell and I didn’t hear you calling out to me? I can admire that you are blunt and fearless, but you are also a stupid child.”

He listened to her crying, and realized after a few minutes that he didn’t know if he was acting in character.

Was this a normal response? If this happened before killing David, would he have berated her like this or would he have softly explained the danger of what he had done.

He felt that he was in a clear state of mind, but that meant little.

Fomoria finally hugged her.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t worry that you are going to do things like that, I can’t imagine how I would react if something happened and I didn’t save you.”

She sniffled, finally stopping after she stopped shaking.

“You’re a prick.”

“Your mother wouldn’t be happy to hear you swearing. Why don’t we both agree not to tell them what happened here?”

“I want you to train me.”

“Of course. Now, why don’t I bring you back to my home? Do you need a maid to help you in the bath?”

She had hoped to slip away and clean herself without him noticing she had wet herself when she saw the large dragonfly coming towards her.

“I’m a big girl, I can do it myself.”

“I will leave a shifting suit outside.”

An Other from the spire had been watching the children train, giving tips not far removed from what Fomoria would give.

He couldn’t face them yet, not until he was sure that he was acting rationally by his own idea of the term.

Naturally, he called Xol.

“What moral… I’m sorry. My condolences, but you did what you felt was right, and you have a strength that many times, I lacked.”

“Thank you. I want to know, have I been acting like myself? Phoebe, Colton’s daughter, she jumped off of my flying island because she knew that I would catch her. But… I waited, I waited until I saw fear in her eyes. When we landed safely I was condescending. I put more on the lesson than I did on trying to comfort a scared little girl.”

“You did the right thing. We can survive such stupid stunts, but mortals need to be taught to safeguard their own lives.”

Xol clapped his skeletal hands together before Fomoria had the chance to think.

“That’s what you wanted to hear, right? That I would do something and thus it is wrong, so you know that you aren’t acting normal, so you can beat yourself up about it.”

Xol leaned back in his seat.

“I think most people would be offended if you were to think about them like that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“I cannot connect with children, I don’t care for them, but that can make a good teacher for some.

To answer honestly, yes, what you described is unlike you, because you have always been good at dealing with children, you have always put forth as much effort as you can afford towards protecting them.

Once lost, it is almost impossible to regain your humanity, so hold tightly to it.”

Xol put up his cubes to block Aarde from listening in.

“I can’t be seen openly helping you with the Cast, but I believe it is best that we gain them as allies.

There is a place that can help you, Fomorians willing to join for the chance to live freely and with comfort.

I cannot say more, but someone you already know can guide you to them if they trust you enough to do so.”

“Before you take this down, what aren’t you telling me? I don’t want to cast doubt on us being friends, but I get the feeling that I’m being led down a path without knowing what’s at the end.”

“That, that would offend more than most people.”

“I’m sorry, but I just had to ask.”

“There is a point where a lack of trust is more damaging than helpful.”

Xol seemed genuinely offended at the idea that he had betrayed Fomoria in any way; thousands of years of dealing with mental and semi-omniscient beings made him able to feign any feeling so long as he expected it.

And so Fomoria was alone again, and it was quiet, but his mind couldn’t focus on the problem in front of him.

It tore his heart out to accuse Xol of manipulating him for some unknown reason, yet what else could he do?

The question of who had invited all of the outside forces into the slaughter at the summit was unanswered, and though Parnell hadn’t contacted him yet regarding changing his face, Fomoria expected no answer from him any different than what David said.

But even if he found something, even if Xol was guilty of this or something else, which right now was nothing but a gut feeling, what could he do? Xol was ancient, the second strongest being that wasn’t a god, or so he says. If he found something, would it even be justifiable to try to stop him?

How much destruction could Xol cause in just a few moments if confronted without any path out?

Fomoria tried to banish these thoughts, and eventually he let himself feel grief, told himself that his distrust of Xol was nothing but an extension of a feeling of betrayal that David refused to work with him.