She who had once been known as Marie, and after that known as Diana, and who now didn't who the hell she was drifted through the back alleys of Melloram like a ghost. She could sense the motion of the town around her as mobs and townsfolk alike scurried about, intent on whatever critical errands they might have. The whole area reminded her not so much of an anthill that had been kicked but of that same anthill that had just been warned that a kick was coming, and was now struggling to prepare for it.

She envied them that sense of purpose right now. She envied how they each had a job to do, and were struggling to do it. They had purpose in the midst of a fearful situation; an anchor to bind their souls to in the middle of chaos and uncertainty.

She’d had an anchor like that, not long ago.

Father, can you hear me? She cast her thoughts out again, seeking desperately for that link she had once had to her father Apollyon. Silence was her only answer. Again.

Frustration and sorrow bubbled up inside her like some hideous stew, mixed together with the anger and fear still lingering from the battle, though that was almost a day ended already. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.

It wasn’t as if a piece of her had been torn away. It was as if the entirety of herself had been shredded and stitched inexpertly back together, with the most important bits gone completely. The connection to Apollyon had been her. Her reason for living, her power, her abilities, her strength. Her core. It was the one thing from which she had derived purpose, and now it was gone.

Torn away in battle. And she didn’t even know how.

“Please answer me,” the words whispered through her lips like the prayer they were. Silence was her only answer.

Again.

Her connection had been torn from her at the end of the battle for Melloram, where she and the dungeon forces had squared off against more than ten times their number of spawn mobs generated by the Failstate. It had been a great fight, and she had been holding a breach in the wall all by herself until…

Well. Until she had drawn the attention of something powerful enough to rip the connection between her and one of the Five away like it had been made of tissue paper stuck to her with chewing gum and happy thoughts.

It must have been the Failstate. There was no other explanation–well, no other explanation than some unknown entity with literal god-like powers getting involved in a conflict between other even more powerful entities. And there just weren’t a hell of a lot of those kinds of things around, so Marie–was that who she was now?–felt safe in attributing it to the Failstate.

The creature had reached into her and severed the connection between her and Apollyon like it had been nothing. She hadn’t known it could do that. Apollyon had never mentioned it.

Had he known?

The question made her stop and look up and away from the lost feeling in her gut. Had he known? Had he known? A day ago, she would have laughed at the absurdity of the question. Daddy Apollyon was the original schemer, the spymaster of an entire reality. She would have believed he knew everything there was to know about any eventuality she could name.

But a day ago she would not have believed that something could have ripped her away from Apollyon, either.

But the Failstate had been part of Apollyon’s plans from the beginning. He’d never been shy about telling his children that. She was from his time, the time before the system had solidified, from the time before the breaking of the Seven. He must have known of her capabilities. He must have.

And that meant he had known that she could be severed from him, if and when she ever came in contact with the creature.

And he hadn’t warned her.

The pain in her gut flared as the sense of betrayal washed over her. He had known. He must have known. He’d known she would run into the Failstate if she stayed with Sam to fight against the Lich. And he hadn’t said a damn word.

No. No, he was Daddy Apollyon. He must have had a reason . There were always wheels within wheels, even when they were training wheels. If he hadn’t told her of the Failstate’s capabilities, that meant there was some larger reason at play, some plan of his that hinged on that information not getting out, even to her, even if it put her in the line of fire.

Even if it cost her that connection with her father.

She shoved the pain away, stuffing it into a box and locking it up tight. She could deal with it later. Maybe. But right now… Well. Right now she was still alive. She felt stitched together from a dozen different wounded pieces, all of them raw and bleeding, but she was alive. And she needed to remain that way. For Sam. For Annie and Jack. For the Crew, wherever they were. For them all. So, stitched together she may be, but she was still her and here. Which meant she had to go on.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

So she pasted a wall over that gaping hole in her soul, where her father’s love had once poured into her from afar, and sucked in a deep breath. It could be fixed later. It would be fixed later. Her father wouldn’t abandon her. He was probably figuring out ways to get her back into his embrace even now. She could wait. She would have faith.

She turned a corner and ghosted into a different alleyway, her breathing coming steadier, her steps surer. Yeah. That was it. All she had to do was wait for Daddy Apollyon to get his stuff together, and then she’d get her power back and her connection back and all would be right with the world.

Well, as right as anything in this twisted world could be, anyways.

And until then, she wasn’t exactly helpless. She had her own levels, which had only increased in the time she’d been with Apollyon helping him with his schemes. She’d been a lowly level 8 when she had joined his great undertaking. She was level 25 now, with several rare skills that she had gotten thanks to his connection and guidance. She might not be a powerhouse anymore, but she wasn’t exactly a featherweight either. If the Failstate sent its minions around again, darn tootin’ she’d be in the thick of the fighting giving as good as she got.

She squared her shoulders and turned down another alleyway, this one leading back to a main street through Melloram. Right. Enough of this. No more floating through the backlot waiting for the main players to find her again. Time to get back in the spotlight. She owed that to Sam, at least.

She was halfway down the alleyway when she became aware of an itching sensation on the back of her neck. She stopped, frowning. There were eyes on her. It wasn’t an ability or skill she’d spent essence on, it was just something she’d always had. Any time anyone was taking an undue interest in her, she’d always been able to tell. It had drove Sam nuts back in the day when he’d been in love with her.

Drove her nuts too, come to think of it.

She turned slowly, slipping a hand into the pocket of her jacket and sliding her fingers into the enchanted knucks she had there. She wasn’t afraid of any real threats here, not with whatever Sam did to sink the town into the earth. But there was always the possibility of sleeper agents, or just dumbasses who viewed her as some kind of threat because of reasona. Those never got–

She saw the sword coming for her head and ducked. The blade rushed past the crown of her head and kept going in one of the most egregious examples of over-swing she’d ever seen. It was an amateurish blow, slow and wild and way too wild. Her mind catalogued all this in an instant, and it was for those reasons she didn’t just lash out and destroy whoever had swung on her. Because whoever it was was no serious threat to her, not if he was swinging steel that inexpertly. She wanted to get a good look at him before she stove his skull in for him…

She stopped and stared. The attacker–no, attackers plural, she saw the other figure a little further down the alleyway drawing a bead on her with some kind of little bow that no hunter in their right mind would ever use. They were kids. Elves. The boy in front of her, the one with the sword, couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. Or whatever the human equivalent was. She’d never been able to keep the age tables straight. The girl with the bow wasn’t much older. Ten or twelve maybe. They both had long hair and blue eyes and looked like they should have been posing for greeting cards in their sunday best, not trying to perforate her sternum with those old weapons. Even as she thought it, the girl let fly with an arrow that wobbled through the air like a dying sparrow. Marie didn’t even bother dodging. She just reached up and plucked it out of the air when it got close.

The boy had recovered from his first swing with a broadsword that looked like it outweighed him by three stone and was winding up for another go, his eyes squeezed half shut and his tongue poking out from the exertion. He swung again, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes as the clumsy blow missed her by a mile and slammed into the cobblestones of the alley hard enough to spark.

The boy stood there panting, staring defiantly up at her, as she very casually stopped forward and placed her foot on the crosguard of the blade, preventing him from hauling it back up. The girl was hurrying forward, a little knife in her hands. Marie wondered just where in the world they’d gotten the idea to come after her. They sure as heck weren’t any kind of agents of the Failstate, or any other Power in the world.

Come to think of it, they looked kinda familiar.

“What do you think Emmy?” the boy asked as the girl jogged up next to him.

“She’ll do,” the girl–Emmy?--said with a firm nod.

Marie felt off-balance suddenly. “What?” she said, staring at the children who were looking back at her with near-identical expressions of smug satisfaction.

“Sorry miss,” the boy said. “We just had to check. Natty’s real fond of you, see, and well…”

“We had to make sure you was worth it,” Emmy said almost defiantly, arms crossed now and practically glaring. “We heard about what you done on the wall, and we seen you against the lich. We just had to be sure you wasn’t all fight, ‘cause Natty’s real nice and sweet and if you was all fight we would’a had to stop you.”

Marie blinked. Natty? Why did that name sound famil—

A memory surfaced, of a young elf roaring over the battlefield astride an ancient red wyrm, his long hair flowing in the wind and his face glowing with equal parts exhilaration and terror.

“You mean Nat?” she blurted. “Long hair, yea high, not real bright?”

Both kids giggled at that description. “Yup, that’s Natty!” said the boy, acting like he hadn’t jsut tried to spitroast her on a sword a few minutes ago.

“He’s nice, but he’s dumb,” Emmy said, smiling a gap-tooth grin. “We gotta protec’ him. Especially now that Daddy’s gone for a while.”

“Until Sam gets him back, anwyays,” the boy added. “I’m Zeb by the way. That’s short for Zebediah, but everyone calls me Zeb ‘cause it’s easier.”

“And… You attacked me because you think he’s got a thing for me?” Marie still felt like she was grasping for solid ground. Where on earth had these two gotten that idea? Yeah, the elf boy was kinda cute and all, but… Seriously?

“Yup! Natty thinks you’re really keen,” Zeb said, nodding brightly.

“But he’s dumb as bricks,” Emmy added, “and too busy right now with all this fighting stuff. So we gotta take care of stuff he forgets about. So how about it,” she asked suddenly leaning forward. “Do you like Natty too?”

The earth shifted again, and Marie felt herself stumbling in her head. “I… I mean, he’s a good fighter, but I don’t really–”

“Oh yeah, he’s really tough. Dad taught him some stuff, and he trained under Sensei Long-Stride with Sam too.” Zeb said, then both kids suddenly went quiet.

“Sensei didn’t make it when that dumb reverent thing came,” Emmy said softly. “He was a good guy. I kinda miss him.”

“He made good cookies,” Zeb agreed.

“Okay time out,” Marie said, trying to get control back. “Look, there’s nothing between your brother and I–”

“You don’t like him?” Emmy asked, eyes wide. “Why not?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong that you don’t like him?” there was challenge in Zeb’s voice. “Got someone else you’re moonin’ over or something?”

“What? No, I–”

“Got a beau on the side, is that it? Huh, whoever it is, he ain’t near as good as Natty, and that’s a fact.”Emmy crossed her arms and glared.

“Yeah. Has your beau got a dragon? ‘Cause Natty’s got a dragon.”

“I haven’t got a beau!” Marie just barely managed to keep from wailing, but it was a near thing.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting together with Natty?” Zeb demanded.

“Yeah. Come on, he’s in the square right now tending to his dragon. Let’s go see him and get you two introduced proper!” Emmy added.

Marie watched, bemused, as the kids grabbed her hands and started towing her along down the alleyway, still with naked weapons in their hands. And she let them, still feeling slightly off balance and with no real thought to refusing.

It was a distraction at least. And gods knew she needed one of those right now.