Brandon kicked the doubled doors off their hinges, announcing his entrance into Tellushra’s chambers. Not nearly so composed as their predecessor, the maids attending the Queen-to-be scrambled at the violent intrusion. They fled the dressing room without so much as a glance for their mistress. Tellushra, however, continued languidly brushing her hair in the mirror as a regal smirk set slowly into place.
“What have you done?” Brandon demanded, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Call it what you will, but I believe this is referred to as ‘compassion’. I thought the concept was dull and more than a little naive but then I tried it.“ Tellushra gave him a kind smile, one she’d clearly been practicing. “I’m enjoying it more than I expected.”
“I’ll ask you one more time, princess. What did you do?” Brandon placed an electric barrier on the doorway, burning one of the many skill slots he’d accumulated over the last six months in her service.
“My favorite pet was getting lazy so I took it upon myself to organize a hunt. He needs some exercise, the lousy mutt. Otherwise he might get too comfortable and forget just who is the dog and who…” She looked at the desolation that was previously her dressing room through decidedly unimpressed eyes. “…is the master.”
Tellushra brushed her hair in slow, deliberate motions until she was ready to speak again. A deadly tension hung in the air as she tested his nerves. Her thin, delicate fingers paused to correct her curls. The princess held his gaze each and every time she twisted a lock around her finger. Repeatedly she wrapped it so tightly that her fingertip would blush a distressing purple then let it go.
Brandon bit his tongue. Ultimately… she was right. It was his job to be wrapped around her finger until she let go. That was the contract he’d signed instead of giving up and joining the Player’s Cult.
Tellushra placed the brush on the vanity and stared at him in the reflection. “Contractually, you can’t interfere with my affairs in relation to other Unmade. This clause was agreed upon by both parties… with one exception that you were certain would never apply.”
Brandon felt a chill sweep over him. “You think Timbrelle is my kid.”
“No, you raging imbecile. I know your ‘interface’ skipped you when handing out parenthood, but I also know that little insect is an anomaly. I need to know if you think she’s your child.” She explained, dabbing wine red gloss onto her lips to match her decadent burgundy gown. “The girl is being held in the dungeons at the Dimetrium estate. Hans Dimetrium seems to be under the impression that he’s doing me a favor by harvesting her gems.”
“…but it’s just a test to see what I’ll do.” Brandon watched the Royal knightage swarm the hallway just beyond his barrier.
“Don’t you remember our contract? Bring down House Dimetrium and I’ll set you free a year early. I’m merely setting you up to get what you want. That’s compassion.”
Brandon considered the woman for a moment. In the past, he would have listened to the sound of a person’s heart to tell if they were being honest. Tellushra, however, became aroused at conflict. He would need to be blind to misread the lust in her otherwise impenetrable gaze. There was no mistaking it. The way her pulse raced and fluttered as Brandon threatened her gave him no leverage. As a result, he was constantly on-edge during their conversations, never knowing what she was truly thinking about the topic at hand.
It was best to defer to Dwendot’s advice. Having once been the psychotic princess’s maid, her insight had proved invaluable many times since they’d moved in together.
“No. This is a test. If I go help her without proof that I’m her mentor, it shows you that I am willing to disobey you if I believe myself to be correct. It also proves that Timbrelle is someone I value enough to make large decisions I know will hurt me. Making her my weakness. If I uphold the contract and don’t interfere, I lose the opportunity to destroy Dimetrium and be rid of you a year sooner.” He groaned. How was he constantly falling into this woman’s traps? The first time they spoke showed her just how easily he could be controlled by his morals and now it seemed there was no conversation between them that didn’t involve leveraging them to her benefit.
Brandon picked up the doors and leaned them against the wall, tidying in frustration.
“I gave her to Dimetrium. Recognize this as an opportunity and be grateful I did not quietly execute her before you could determine her Unmade parentage.” Tellushra rose from her seat at the vanity, sending a calming hand signal to the guards waiting outside the barrier. “Rescue your daughter, raze Dimetrium to the ground and report back… or don’t. I’ll be waiting to hear your decision.”
Brandon jumped when Tellushra walked directly at the electric barrier, barely managing to pull it down in time for her to walk through.
***
Adna turned a corner in the Tellcentran Temple of Nerrus and arrived in a large circular room. The dome overhead collected the sounds of discussion and held them in the air for a moment longer than was natural. Hushed conversations of the aurors faded into silence when they saw Fede lead herself, Davian and four Jir devotees into the impressive room. A towering man obscured by flowing shadow walked abreast with Fede, making his position at the head of Jir’s congregation clear.
Adna had heard the story of Timbrelle’s capture from Exantir himself and accepted the sapphire loaf. She was at once infuriated with herself and conflicted at the knowledge that she too would have died in the aftermath of a forced teleport. Had Timbrelle been taken amidst the crowd in the stands, any surrounding biomass would have been shredded by the power exerted to enforce an unwilling teleport. That was likely the significant mortal event Jir had warned them about.
Fede bowed a greeting to the woman at the center of the room before joining her on the dais. Davian stood beside Adna, ruby strength fortifying his hand against the anxiety in her grip.
The elderly woman was dressed in an oversized, lush green robe that made her look somewhat shrunken. She spread her arms and said, “I am Wayett, Emerald Auror and High Priest of Tellcentra. I welcome both our Yost congregation and Jir’s assemblage. Pleasantries aside, we have no time to waste. The past four hours have allowed us time to search and compile data. Loren and myself were able to reasonably deduce Timbrelle’s location to be the dungeons of the Dimetrium Estate. This was then confirmed by Our God and Jir… Lord Jir.” She corrected herself with a cough, nodding apologetically to Exantir. The woman then turned a sober face back to the group. “We have reason to believe that she is going through the early stages of gem harvesting. Depending on her fortitude, the process can take anywhere from hours to days before they begin removing the loosened gems.”
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Adna squeezed Davian’s hand twice. Timbrelle had told Adna what she learned about Davian in the hospital. In turn, Adna had been transparent with him about her knowledge. He and Loren were brothers as well as orphans. His mother had been murdered for her gems… and now Timbrelle was experiencing the same death.
Davian’s eyes went from blatant dissociation to embarrassed aversion at her effort to ground him back in reality. He kissed her temple and refocused himself on the briefing.
Exantir spoke next. “Since her capture, Timbrelle has fallen under my Lord Jir’s influence. This confirms that she is, indeed, dying but allows us to keep an eye on her progression to death. As of this moment, her spectral energy is down to a third of what it was when last we spoke. I believe there is little time left. She will begin leaking spectral energy faster than her soul can create it. I have equipped her with the Moribund Seal to collect what she loses in the process of dying. This will function as a manner of life support to her soul after her body dies-however long that might be.”
“Can you determine what they are doing to her?” Fede asked, his tone not entirely one of professional detachment like High Priest Wayett.
“Not specifically. I can only conclude that the damage done to her soul is not spectral by but physical in origin.” He let the revelation hang in the air. To harm the soul one either needed to attack it directly or harm the body so immensely that it mangled the soul.
The information settled like a stone in Adna’s gut. She was about to demand to know the plan for the rescue when Wayett and Fede both adopted a faraway expression.
“Kneel.” Fede ordered the mass of aurors. She couldn’t tell if it was backed by his amethysts but everyone, including the followers of Jir, knelt. On the now cleared dais, a familiar person appeared.
“Nerrus.” Adna realized aloud.
Two black, eyeless sockets snapped to her, holding her gaze in a vice grip. “Have you been feeding my Chosen the gems I left for her?”
“Only one. You said I would know when the time was right and that one was a guess because I never knew.” She explained, unsure if she should remain standing or kneel. Frankly, there wasn’t time for such sanctimonious deference. If she were to grovel, it would be purely performative.
Though every Kiton fiber of her body screamed to prostrate herself before Him, Adna steeled her mind to meet Nerrus proudly.
“I will admit… that was my failing. The obscuration placed on you is complete, I could not inspire you as I would one of my congregation. The cruel reality is that Timbrelle should be in possession of all eleven gems at this point in time.” He ignored the people around them and came to stand before her. His steps, as in the Dorark, were soundless. “Do not fret. If you can feed them to her before she dies, I may be able to salvage her body. If not, we must recover her gems as they are much too precious to lose. To this end, I will create for you an ally in your reclamation efforts. Bring forth the medium and the clay.”
Nerrus resumed His position on the dais and watched silently as Morto and another auror from Tellcentra hauled multiple sacks of clay to Him. Adna handed over the Sapphire medium to the god and stood back with the rest of his congregation.
At His gesture, an altar of milky white gems rose from the floor, lifting the small mountain of clay. It looked much like the altar in the Yostier temple, minus the dried lava that had overtaken the extravagant building centuries ago. Though Tellcentra’s temple was much more conservative than the one Adna was used to, it was considered Nerrus’s flagship. With a congregation twice the size of Yost’s and a fair number of aurors visiting, the force collected in the room was not merely formidable but terrifying.
Nerrus placed the sapphire atop the sacks of clay. The instant his hands left the surface of the gem, it was engulfed in a wave of sediment. Clay rushed from the bags, to enrobe the stone. It continued to amass as Nerrus began explaining.
“Two of my mediums have been recovered. The second was found by Timbrelle, the Topaz by another not long ago. As with the topaz, my sapphire will also become a golem with the powers of its respective gem.”
“My Lord?” Fede blinked at the god. “Another golem? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Wayett, beside him looked far more troubled. “Your Topaz has been recovered? I have heard no news of this.” The woman shot a murderous look at Exantir who had been researching the medium locations.
“It is uncommon for one who has mastered the emeralden arts to hear new information, but not impossible.” Nerrus chided her. “I have gone to great lengths to preserve this secret—from the world as well as Jir Himself.”
Exantir bowed calmly at the God’s pointed look, making no apologies for Jir’s stalking. This spurred a sigh from Nerrus who turned to rain gems out of his palm into the roiling clay on the altar.
“Pay attention to the volume of rubies and sapphires—the powers impressed into the stones will dictate mobility, cohesion and durability. This amount will vary in relation to your material. Emeralds are technically unnecessary but can help to establish and fortify the sentience each medium has achieved during their confinement.” The clay bubbled below his overturned palm, greedily consuming each an every aurora gem He dropped inside. As it settled, he loosed a cascade of shimmering orange stones. “Last, and most crucial of all: the topaz. This allows the body to translate commands given by the soul.”
Over the course of a silent minute, the clay took shape. What began as a pile slowly redistributed along the altar into the shape of an enormous man. While the definition of its finer features were vague, the shape of a rough-hewn man sat up on the table. It patted its chest and abdomen, taking a moment to appraise itself before swinging thick clay legs to dangle off the shimmering white altar. Looking around with hollow sockets that matched Nerrus, it too locked onto Adna.
As they watched, a long line appeared below its wide set eyes, giving the look of a frog’s mouth. The creature opened the mouth to show a hole receding down his neck. After a few tries, it managed to turn its silent mouth movements into words.
“I am Phirrus—“
Its mouth closed with an audible snap.
Nerrus sighed, the hand held out to compel the golem into silence now pinched the bridge of His godly nose in frustration. “You named yourself after me?”
The golem nodded.
“This is Ferg.” Nerrus announced firmly.
Deflated, the golem said, “Yes. I will be Ferg.”
“He will join your party.” Nerrus said to Adna, only now noticing the look of pure malice in her eyes.
“Adna…” Davian warned from beside her.
She threw his hand down and stood apart. “Like hell it will join my party.” She snarled, nearly a whisper. “I’m not doing a damn thing for you. Not today. Not now. How dare you come waltzing in here like I haven’t been praying to you every day, like Timbrelle isn’t missing because of you. You have the gall to show up after Timbrelle has been abducted while she and I have been following your cryptic instructions ever since that godforsaken forest. She almost died and we never heard from you. Now we have to launch a reclamation mission to save—what was it? Her gems? Respectfully, dear Nerrus, fuck you. I’ll find her myself.”
Not waiting for an answer, Adna stomped toward the grand doors that lead out to Tellcentra.
“Let her go, Tuna.” Nerrus ordered from behind her. “Give it just… a moment...”
When Adna reached the doors, she heard a tentative knock from the other side. She shot a tired look back at Nerrus who merely smirked. Whatever game this was, she wanted no part.
A faint pink seal bled onto the door in the shape of a circular flower, hailing the arrival of a tourmaline auror. Three people came stumbling into the temple and collapsed in the entry.
The only truly conscious person of the three scanned the crowd from her knees before coming to a stop on Davian. Brendwezzick, Davian’s partner in the Tryptus, let Gren slide off her shoulders and onto to the floor beside Trestovan.
She held her side and let out a long, pained breath before asking, “You were my partner today, right?”
Adna knelt beside the men to check their vitals, her dramatic exit momentarily forgotten. Without a word, she followed the quiet instructions of Dr. Fax and the few tourmaline aurors working to stabilize them.
“I found these guys just outside the city. Apparently they were sent by your Florentine congregation. For whatever reason, they’re being pursued by House Daliega.” Brendiwezzick explained quickly. “Are you really going to The Reaping? You have an Unmade friend?”
Davian, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention while three high priests and a God watched, nodded dumbly.
“I saved your aurors and killed a knight from a prestigious house. You owe me a favor.” She said, finally catching her breath.
“Wait, these guys aren’t aurors.” Adna interjected. “We know Trestovan and Gren, but they aren’t…”
Adna froze. There, between Trestovan’s perpetually open shirt buttons, a pale pink stone peeked out from beneath the skin. She turned a cold eye to Nerrus whose smirk turned to a radiant, shit-eating grin.
“With this, dear Adna, your party is assembled. Wayett, Fede, meet my newest tourmaline and emerald aurors.”