“The dream team.” Timbrelle introduced her party to Brandon with a flourish.

The man squinted at her. “Are you kidding me? You, Adna, Nerrus’s two newest aurors, and His clay golem? I get that Adna’s boyfriend can’t come, but what about the mini-lich librarian or the Crudwell girl? They were strong.”

“The lichbrarian’s name is Shorna and apparently she’ll meet us in Florenta with Exantir for the war. As for Trestovan and Gren, their divine quest complicates things. I was mentioned by name in their contract with Nerrus and He refused to release them from the obligation to join my party. If I didn’t accept them, they’d be in breach of divine contract. So Nerrus packed the boys full of gems and here we are. He’ll try to interfere at some point. That’s a given.” Timbrelle said.

Brandon’s eye twitched. “Cool. Sleeper agents. Love to see it in my parties.”

“It’s fine for now.” She assured. “I’ll handle it later.”

“And the golem?” He asked, sighing.

“That’s Ferg.”

“It’s Phirg.” The golem said.

“I swear to God, Ferg, we are saying the same thing.” She rubbed her temples. “Don’t worry about him, Brandon. He’s not being controlled by Nerrus. I can tell that none of his topaz are receiving input from a third party. Ferg is chill. I’m not sure how to explain it but our mediums are… compatible. There’s a whole color wheel concept that Loren tried to teach me. In essence, opposites are inherently synergistic. Emerald and ruby, sapphire and topaz, citrine and amethyst. I’d bet my gems that’s why Tuna chose citrine—she was trying to pull Fede all along.”

“I can help you with refractive theory.” Gren offered, stoking an emerald on his throat to life. “The High Priest in Tellcentra gave me an information well for basic Crystalurgy. I’ve been teaching Tovan how to use his gems. I’m confident that I can instruct you as well.”

“See?” Timbrelle turned to her mentor. “Already making themselves useful. Trestovan is a healer, Ferg is a tank and Gren is good ol’ Gren.”

“I’m a soldier.” He said.

“You’re a sweetheart.” She agreed.

Brandon sent his thoughts through the chat.

Brandon: A ruby auror would have been much better.

Timbrelle: Yeah… well… I stole a tourmaline off the gem harvester that turned out to be from Davian’s mom. Now that they have proof she was murdered, the Holtweller house has been turned upside down. He was the only ruby auror we might have recruited. Do you want to ask Morto?

Brandon: Nevermind.

For whatever reason, the man avoided any and all discussion of Morto. He seemed to respect her fondness for the auror and gave a wide berth to the topic. Adna’s sidelong glance let Timbrelle know that she, too, had noticed the behavior.

“Gren,” Brandon said while looking over the man’s shoulder at his bio. “We will need to discern your place in the party. While you don’t have Adna’s strength or Ferg’s constitution, your other stats are impressive. Let’s make a firm decision after I see you spar with Adna. I think I may have a weapon you’d find useful in a few levels.”

Gren gave a neat nod. “Understood.”

Brandon moved down the line. “Trestovan Daliega. Your family’s Unmade is an old friend. How is Sigmund these days?”

Trestovan winced. “He snorts enough poxus that my father keeps a healer on hand to restore his nose every week.”

“So he hasn’t changed!” Brandon let out a hearty laugh. “I’m surprised he hasn’t joined the cult by now. The poxus is probably all that’s stopping him. Good, good. I’ll introduce you at the mixer tonight, Timbrelle.”

She simply smiled and nodded. Brandon had been doing that ever since her unmaking. Oh! That mass murderer/assassin/supervillain? They make a great hummus! I’ll introduce you at the mixer. All she could do was practice patience and manifest abundance; She finally understood Fede’s exasperated sighs at her nonsensical ramblings about Jir, Diadna, Nerrus and Cake.

“I met your grandad once.” Brandon said with a sudden smile. “I forgot all about that. I bet I still have his hand in my inventory.”

“His hand? Shouldn’t you give that back?” Timbrelle asked.

“Do you have any idea what I went through to get that hand? After all I did to isolate the mind worm and remove it—hell no. It will remain in stasis in my inventory until I die… or until I find a use for a psychic parasite. Never say never.” Brandon winked at Timbrelle, unconcerned by Trestovan’s horrified expression. He moved on to the large clay man.

“And Ferg, I’m curi-“

“Phirg.”

“Excuse me?” Brandon said.

“It’s Phirg.”

“Yeah. Ferg.”

“Phirg.”

“…Ferg?”

The golem smiled a wide frog mouth under empty eye sockets. “There you go. Not so hard to pronounce, eh?”

Brandon paused, looked for a moment like he would question what had just happened but ultimately decided to skip the golem. “A fine team for a level-one Unmade. But… I’ll help you assemble your next team. Ok? You’ll get better at picking winners once you have some practice.”

Timbrelle gave him a withering look that melted away instantly when she spotted the person entering the empty courtyard. “Brendiwezzick?” She said to the unexpected visitor.

“Call me ‘Zee’.” The woman dropped a pack onto the ground beside Gren. “Where are we headed?”

Brandon clapped the woman on the back with enough force to knock her forward a step. “I figured you’d weasel your way into the party. Good play. This is your chance to find out what you can offer Timbrelle as payment for your contract, so don’t waste this opportunity.”

What was visible of Zee’s face blushed a deep red but she did not refute his assessment of her method.

Timbrelle offered a hand to the woman. “Whatever your motive, I’m grateful to have you on my team. Your fight with Tato was incredible. Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the Tryptus finals?”

The woman’s blush deepened. “I only entered the Tryptus because they were offering tickets to the Reaping as prizes. Now that I’ve made a connection with an Unmade, I don’t need to go to their event to network…”

“Oh, don’t be so embarrassed. I had someone pose as my lover for three months before they finally came clean about needing me for a contract. Frankly, transparent desperation is preferable.” Brandon said. “Now I have a girlfriend who makes candy bars from Earth.”

Zee looked both reassured and bewildered—a feeling Timbrelle knew all too well after spending a couple days with Brandon.

“Apparently, I need to meet with Tellushra because she’s my mentor’s contractor. We will knock that out now, then go to the mixer and ultimately leave for Florenta tomorrow morning. Y’all can wait at Brandon’s house until we’re ready to go.” Timbrelle said.

“Dwen has been baking and cleaning all day in preparation. She’s a busy body.” Brandon smiled fondly.

“Can you tell me the gist of your request?” She asked Zee. “It couldn’t hurt to train with a goal in mind.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Zee shifted her weight.

Brandon chuckled. “While it is normally a smart idea to place an Unmade in your debt before offering a deal, don’t muddy your accrued goodwill by hiding that agenda—if you wish to be on the team, that is. You can offer a firm contract later, but the time has come to show your hand.”

Zee looked more like she was preparing to vomit than come clean, but eventually she gave in. “The Player’s Cult decimated my county’s land and people. When my idiot brother went to find an Unmade for protection, they used him as leverage to extort the land from my parents.” She swallowed audibly. “But then they never returned him. All we have are the fingers Lu Mei sends us. My father died of heart failure when opening the first delivery, leaving my mother to slowly hand everything over to that bitch for my brother’s sake. She’s not satisfied with our lands, she wants every last breath in my mother’s body.”

Brandon frowned. “So… let me get this straight. You want Timbrelle to kill a veteran Unmade even though Lu Mei is thirty-four levels higher? There is literally nothing you could offer that would make this contract poss—“

“I know.” Zee cut in, her hands balled into fists. “I… I know. I’d need to offer a king’s ransom to pit Unmade against each other. That’s why I just need you to bring me my worthless brother so he can’t be used as leverage anymore.”

Timbrelle considered the offer while Brandon dropped his approval in the chat and Adna gave a silent thumbs-up. “I think we could make a rescue happen after some training. As long as we don’t have to take on another Unmade directly, it should be possible.”

“No… it won’t be a rescue.” Zee bit her lip. An inner debate reflected on her face. “I want his head.”

***

Timbrelle walked silently through the palace behind a pair of royal knights, Brandon to her side. They were trailed by three additional knights who, like Brandon, had arrived fully kitted for combat. Their leather armor of uniform charcoal and lavender squeaked and squealed to the eclectic rhythm of their steps. Timbrelle, herself, wore a blue t-shirt and cargo shorts Brandon supplied. He had assured her that any Earth fashion would be accepted as formal attire and Timbrelle had promised herself to never again wear a corset. Brandon’s “dad-wear” was a homogenous collection of jorts, cargo shorts and polo tees. The man knew what he liked and he liked very little.

Timbrelle: I’ve never worn so many pockets, this is exhilarating.

Brandon: Right? You’ll never go back. One of those is an inter-dimensional pocket but I forget which one. Just keep your hands out of there and it won’t matter. The outfit is perfect—if you ignore the necklace. It clashes.

Her hand went to the brilliant citrine around her neck, the sudden movement prompting a flinch from the guards around her.

“Jumpy today?” She asked with a snort.

“Don’t tease them.” Brandon sighed. “They’ve never fought two unmade at once. Their pulses are going nuts.”

“Could they win against you?” Timbrelle wondered.

Brandon: Not a chance.

Aloud he said, “Well… you see, that’s a tough question. I’d have a hard time taking them all at once, but in a protracted battle I think I could pull off a win.” He lied with such sincerity that Timbrelle choked back a laugh. Brandon smiled at her somewhat sadly. He looked as though he might say something, instead placing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a stumbling headlock. His mood darkened progressively until the group stopped before a gilded door.

He sniffed and grimaced. “So this is how she wants to meet you. Classy.”

Her mentor held her at arm’s length, likely taking a moment to check the soul projection that hid her mismatched eyes. To her, they were the normal featureless white and diamond eyes. To others, they were a common brown.

Brandon: I wish I could take a picture of you now. This you. Fresh from the Unmaking. This person is someone you’ll want to remember during your very long life. Someday you’ll realize you’ve lost your mind and everyone who knew the best version of you is dead. What remains then is the power you’ve gathered and a rotten soul.

I can’t train you like a regular mentor. I’ve signed away the rest of my life to Tellushra. But I can tell you the thing I wish my mentor had told me: Hold on to yourself for as long as you possibly can.

“Okay?” He said aloud, squeezing her shoulders lightly.

Timbrelle nodded, pulling him into a hug.

Timbrelle: I may not have been there eighty years ago when you were first Unmade, but I will remember this Brandon right here as a good man and a better dad.

At that, the unmade man pushed her out of his embrace and pulled open the door, hiding his face from her. Perhaps his golden retriever soul wasn’t quite accustomed to receiving the level of care it gave to others. She’d need to change that.

“Your Highness, I’ve brought Ti—“

His mouth closed immediately, biting off Timbrelle’s name with an audible snap. Beside her, Brandon’s eyes lit up with purple spectral energy. Soul manipulation. A sign so obvious that Timbrelle’s distracted brain took a moment to process what it meant.

Three bare-naked knights noted their entrance and left the oversized bed on the center dias to reassume both their uniforms and posts.

“That will be all, Brandon. Leave us to chat.” A soft voice answered from the bed. The princess, out of breath, knelt in a sheer lace shawl that was never meant to cover her body but rather, to tease it to others.

Brandon turned on his heel and lightly shut the door behind him.

Timbrelle: What the hell, dude? You said you’d “never leave me alone with her in a million years”. What gives?

He did not answer. Brandon, despite the amethyst control, did not appear to retain his mental faculties. It seemed that he was under a far greater control than Fede had ever displayed with her. This being in direct contrast with the thin tendril of spectral energy stretching from gem to target—the current was the width of spider silk. An impressive feat. It was far from the tidal wave of energy Fede, the Amethystic “master”, employed. Only the faintest of sparkles had tipped her off to its presence.

Tellushra stood from the bed, her shawl swinging open. “Now that he is gone—“

“Woah-woah-woah. Lady.” Timbrelle cut in. “You are butt-ass naked. Put on some pajamas or something. I can wait over there for a minute. Just let me know when you’re ready.” She pointed to a lounge in the corner as she walked toward it.

Tellushra’s eyes burnt holes in her spine but when Timbrelle turned around, the woman was encompassed in a downy robe and coming to sit in the chair beside the lounge.

“I didn’t mean to offend your sensibilities.” Tellushra mewled in a sultry voice.

“My sensibility… of wanting to speak with someone while they’re fully clothed? I suspect that many other people prefer that as well.” Timbrelle smiled politely. “For future reference.”

Tellushra’s face transitioned slowly from a predatory stare into a wide grin. “I like you.”

“That’s because I’m a treasure.” She accepted. “Did you want to talk about something in particular, or…”

It was an odd feeling, speaking with the princess. Fear and panic warred within her, but when it came time to speak, annoyance dictated her speech. This woman who held Brandon’s life in her palm was behaving shamelessly and Timbrelle was embarrassed for her.

There was a long silence where the crown princess watched her as though she expected Timbrelle to do a trick. It ended when she finally beckoned one of her knights to bring over a box.

“I prepared a gift for you. Please accept it with my best intentions. Rolland went out to fetch it the moment we learned of your Unmaking.” The woman leaned back in her chair. “Open it.”

Timbrelle eyed the box on the table, then studied the people around the room. “…let’s cut the shit. I know you’re an auror. I’ve watched all your little tendrils trying to worm into my soul. Well, it won’t work. After the Unmaking, my soul is mine.”

Tellushra snorted—a very undignified sound to come from one so regal. “I was merely checking your soul’s health, Topaz. No need to be hostile.”

Timbrelle froze. “How… do you know about my medium? Brandon would never have told you and aurors can’t see into people.”

She did not answer, merely nodding at the box. “Open it. I prepared something I thought would be useful to you as a welcome to the family. You are my great-grandfather’s newest child after all.”

The woman eyes followed Timbrelle’s fingers as they gently loosened the ribbons and pulled open the lid.

Inside the box, upon a pillow of cotton fluff, sat the head of Bray Rigel. It looked up at her through one clouded eye, the other mostly shut. His platinum hair, styled into cornrows, was a symbol of the Rigels. Their striking hair color and dark chocolate skin set them apart wherever they went. Now, however, Bray’s face was ashen and bloated to the point of near unrecognizability.

The box arced through the room, hitting the floor and spilling its contents with a sickening smack.

Timbrelle looked back at Tellushra, finding the woman radiating glee. “Nasty bitch.” She spat.

All around the room, knights drew their swords. The action was halted when Tellushra raised a delicate hand.

“Be at ease. It is not a sin to dislike a gift given in good faith… merely bad manners.” The princess snickered. “Had I known you would snub my sincerity, I would have offered you something less magnanimous. Don’t you know that this is how Unmade do their business? It is only natural for me to kill your enemies if I want something from you.”

No. Something here didn’t add up. Timbrelle stood from her chair, the inexplicable urge to run from the room powering her muscles. Her stomach churned, roiling around her medium.

Tellushra stood from the chair, closing the distance and clasping Timbrelle’s hand. “Find the citrine medium for me.” She said with wide, sparkling eyes, trailing her finger down Timbrelle’s sternum. “Now that you’ve locked up your soul, I’m forced to ask a mere golem politely—that’s not to say that you won’t get paid. In addition to the head of my dear great-uncle, I’ve prepared just the thing to tempt you.”

Tuna’s request came screeching back into the forefront of her mind. Timbrelle flipped on her Soul Sight. It was easy to forget about the ability when she could plainly see the movement of spectral energy with her naked eye.

There, as glaring as the sun at midday, shone a massive, craggy amethyst formation in Tellushra Eldewotter’s chest. Around it sparkled hundreds—perhaps even thousands of gems. Not the sapphires, emeralds and rubies of Timbrelle and Ferg, but a galaxy of purple hues. Each surrounded by a ring of decay that ate away at the soul around them—exactly as Loren described the effects of forcible attunement.

Timbrelle gasped softly. Realizing just what had happened to Tuna’s Tellushra.

“You’re not Tellushra.” She breathed. “You took her body.”

Amethyst winked and made to leave. “At least my vessel was willing, dear ‘Timbrelle’.” She paused at the doors and added over her shoulder, “Come back when you’re ready for these answers. I will offer you either the truth or Brandon’s contact in exchange for the citrine medium. Be sure to choose carefully, for you cannot receive either one elsewhere.”

With that, the woman was gone, knights filing out behind her until only Timbrelle and the head of Fede’s son remained. She placed Bray gently in her inventory and, after a moment of silence, went to find Brandon.