"He must have ate himself to death," said Ahz. I looked up from Pothos to him, assuming he could not be serious, and found him looking me in the eye. "Any theories, Eidolon?"

"Find his killer, Ahz," said V. "Unless you don't think you can."

Ahz turned on V again, all full of swagger, and my counterpart looked genuinely angry. But one of the Pothos's boys came slowly forward and prostrated himself before V.

"Speak," said V.

"Lord of All Things, the killer is here." And without lifting his head from the floor, he reached with his arm and pointed at Pothos, sprawled over his sofa with dried vomit caked over the corner of his mouth.

"The death is in his drink. He asked me for the wine that protects him, and then he told me to go to bed. I woke when the Lesser Lord arrived, and saw my master after letting him in.

The boys were all gathered in a row, sleepy eyed and holding back tears. V scanned each one of them slowly, then shrugged. "He'll have to be replaced."

"Man or woman?" asked Ahz.

"Man," said V. "Someone clever, but content. I need them to remain as they were."

"Someone of a medial rank, then," Ahz replied. "Grateful men are loyal, and afraid to lose what they've been given. You see, they know they aren't worthy of it, and could never achieve it on their own. We know better than to give power to men who feel entitled around here." His eyes locked with mine again during the last two sentences. He then left, and I saw in the crowd gathered outside some men like him, who too looked like how I pictured Pothos's boys would look when grown. They were glass blades; smooth, polished, seemingly fragile yet lethally sharp.

V was troubled. He looked to Monanet and called her close. I tried to read their lips as they spoke in each other's ears, but could only really see the movements of their jaws. After Monanet's final words he nodded, and called the gathered crowd inside, then ordered the doors to the mansion shut.

"The ignorant thing a life of pleasure to be easy," he said to them, "but we know different." There was some laughter. "Pothos took on the burden of absolute dedication, knowing that his labors would levy a dreadful toll. We all remember him when he was young." There was some more laughter, and a few sniffles. "He was a soldier who never balked at his duty, and when released from it he dazzled us all with his body, and then with his appetites. We will never again see his like, but his legacy will live on."

"Who will take his place?" asked a wizened woman in a green toga.

"Ahz will choose," answered V.

The lady nodded. "He knows what's best what sort of man is needed. Poor boys. Will they continue to serve?"

V looked to Monanet. She looked at the boys, then nodded. "I recommend it. These boys are the right sort. No need to dispose of them."

The lady agreed. "They're sort is rare. They'll be invaluable when grown. Poor boys. They can sleep in my manor tonight, if they wish."

I never bothered to find out for certain, but I assumed this woman must have been intimate with Pothos when they were both young. She herded the boys along and the crowd dispersed after she left.

Zook was sitting cross legged on my bed when I came home. She had a book from my apartment's library, and when she saw me she leapt off the bed to the floor, giving me a most pitifully apologetic look.

I smiled, and though we spoke very different words, I told her I didn't mind her sitting on my bed while handing her the book.

She held it up with the pages turned towards me. I sat on the floor by her and set the book in my lap, wondering if it was something I would be able to explain with the rift between our speech. It was a book I'd read in the Bibliotheca. I struggled to think of how to explain that the characters where mythical creatures our own fauna was named after, and the land they lived in was sheltered under branched trees that bore food to those whom they favored. While gesturing, the Stylus awoke and soon strange letters were forming between my fingers. Zook scooted back, frightened, but the words were familiar to her, so she slowly came back to my side, looking at the stylus in bewilderment. It took some time, and many of the errants words that formed while I learned made Zook laugh or blush, but I managed to control the words so that I explained to her I wanted her to be safe, and would not let anyone here hurt her again. I then told her I wanted to reunite her with her father, fully ready for her to burst into tears. But she smiled, though there was that indescribable twist to her lips that showed she was afraid to have such hope.

"Is he alive?" I asked her with the Stylus. She responded with a flurry of speech, making fighting motions with her hand and even mimicking the oozing of blood from a wound. I gathered that they were attacked and separated, but her father is a competent man and she had now doubt he had survived.

"Might he have followed you?" I asked, hopeful. "Might he be here?".

She shrugged, and I remember reflecting on the odd universality of certain motions.

I told her that while I didn't know how I could, I wanted to help her find him, and would do my best to find a way. Then a tear dripped down her cheek, and I could feel my heart split down the middle. I remember how battered she was when I saw her in Pothos's mansion, and never did ask him what else took place in her conditioning. I feared that she was likely raped numerous times, and had noted that while the targs under Belial's rule were a society of animals, her garments showed that either she was of the fighting class, or that her father kept her safe from the abuse dolled out to the rest of their dregs. It angered and saddened me to think of her rare dignity undone so senselessly by flesh traffickers. I did not express this to her, but as much as I wanted to find her father, I also wanted to kill her captors by inches. It had been a long time since I'd cut a living body open, but I still remembered the ways to do so without causing death, and had begun deciding which of their organs to show them, savoring the horror I knew would twist their faces.

"I will do my best," I said, "and I will try to protect you. Please be cautious, learn to hide, and have faith."

She wiped my tears from my eyes. I didn't even realize I'd been crying. It's ludicrous, but she, who had been treated so unforgivably, took it upon herself to comfort me, sitting on my lap so she could cradle my head against her chest. I took advantage of having a means to communicate with her, explaining too that the Stylus did not translate her words to me. She gestured for me to give it to her, which I explained I could not. I told her I wanted her to sleep on the bed while I slept on the sofa in the living room. She shook her head and patted the bed next to her. I then explained that the bedroom had its own door, and if anyone came in the night I would be there to stop them, giving her time to either hide or find a weapon.

"Here," I said, and gave her my knife. She shed another tear, and before we each went to sleep she gave me a hug so tight I thought my ribs would crack.

I met Pothos's replacement the next day. He looked a lot like Pothos did when he was young, with the same open eyed smile of a young man who stumbled by chance upon privilege beyond his dreams.

His name was Ontus. At the reception honoring his induction, Ahz frequently patted him on the back and whispered into his ear. He came to me and bowed, then spoke in a low voice that while soft, I could tell had the potential to boom.

"I'm told you were friends with Master Pothos. I hope I can be friends with you as well."

Ahz was livid (he showed his rage with a tense smile and a gloating menace in his eyes), so I put my hands on the boy's shoulders and told him that we already were, happily grinding sand into Ahz's cuts.

"Will you dine with me tomorrow, then?"

Now, what I remember most of this moment, was how badly I wanted to save Ontus from the world he was about to be broken and consumed by. I put my arm around him and lead him away from Ahz and any other prying ears.

Stolen story; please report.

"I dined with your master many times," I told him, plucking an olive the size of a child's fist off a passing platter, "but Pothos never dined with me. Let's learn from past mistakes, and begin our friendship in a better way."

"If you think it will be better, then I'll be honored."

There was a quartet of strings, and they hit a sweet note of greatest pain when Aughrim was fled, leaving me defenseless with my eyes closed.

"You enjoy music?" asked Ontus.

"Immensely," I replied, my spirit emptied with my breath. I took more in, then warned Ontus that my apartment was much humbler than the mansion he'd inherited.

"No space that houses you could be humble in my eyes," he said. "It is I who am humbled, My Lord."

And so when he came to my board and ate what Zook and I had prepared together with direction from one of V's personal chefs, I asked him if he even knew what I was.

Zook was mortified when I told her who would be spending the evening with us. But with the Stylus I convinced her she was in no danger. Still, she cowered in my bedroom for most of the night, not wanting to face the man who had overseen much of her abuse.

"You are Our Lord V's twin. One of the Batch."

"And what is the Batch?"

He studied me carefully, then ate some bread after dipping it in whipped, creamy butter. "This is good bread."

"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable, Ontus. I just want to know what I can impart to you, so that you may fare better than Pothos. So please, feel safe with me, and be honest."

It took him a moment, but eventually he spoke. I wondered then what Caduceus would think, were he alive to see me there with this potential protege.

"Did Master Pothos really commit suicide? He wasn't... murdered?"

"Who would possibly have a motive to murder Pothos?"

"Well, there's others, older than me who might..."

"Protect yourself, Ontus. You have the capability. Make powerful friends, and lowly ones, and earn the loyalty of those around you who are most dangerous."

He nodded. "So, Pothos did kill himself then?"

I leaned back in my chair. Ontus was surprisingly at home in my moderate dining room with only recorded music played by my djinn and no dancers. In fact, he seemed much more at ease here with just the two of us, eating rustic (however well made) food and drinking cold beer instead of spiced liquors.

"Well," I said, "I'm not sure. Maybe you can help me suss this out. If one is driven to suicide by an unsustainable life, then could that be considered murder?"

He leaned back as well, but kept his arms folded over his chest, and looked downward. "I suppose so, but it would need to be a life that was imposed upon him. Then whoever imposed the life would be his killer. But, it's hard to say, because, I mean... Are you insinuating..."

"No. I'm not insinuating anything. I wanted to hear your thoughts. You'll be facing a lot of difficult decisions. I must see if you've the sense to see the right path through them. For instance..." And I snapped my fingers. Zook came slowly out of the door and stood by my side, frightened but defiant. "I know the targs well. Even Belial didn't illicit this much fear from them. What good is a tortured soul to your stable? Wouldn't your patrons prefer cheerful lovers?"

He shrugged. "Depends. I know the stables well. All types are sought after. Even broken ones. Some folk like to feel powerful. Seeing a small girl in obvious distress gives them that."

Expecting her reaction, I caught Zook's wrist before she could bury the knife I gave her in Ontus's chest.

"Zook," I said, sternly, "if you kill him, he can never learn."

She slowly relented, then returned to my room.

"You can die as Pothos did, or you can fall to an assassin. Or, I can offer you a third option."

"I don't want to die."

"I don't want you to die, Ontus."

He leaned over the table and leaned on his arms, trying to appear relaxed by folding his hands, only his fingers couldn't stop themselves from twitching. "What's the third option?"

"Why, to live of course. Now, answer my question. Lord V and I. What are we?"

"I, don't really know, My Lord. All I know is that you're immortal, and wield dreadful power. You see and know everything, and are everywhere. And, how you're different people, but the same, I don't understand. You seem so alike, but so different."

"Have any brothers or sisters?"

He nodded excitedly. "Lots of both."

"Well, there you have it. You're from a batch as well. Just not one that imparts the ability to return from death."

"And to see everything, and be everywhere. How do you and Our Lord do that?"

"Our gifts vary. And I've been making war on the surface for some time, and only recently came here, so V and I are still learning about each other. But I will tell you what you do not know Ontus. We of the Batch are the past and the future, but we are transient immortals, and one way or another, we will one day not be present on this world. You, Ontus, are of the present. If the world is to avoid another Fall, and to experience a true Rise, then changes must be made."

"Yes. Of course. W- what changes?"

"Only willing lovers. Willing and cheerful. In fact, phase out the stable. If one wants to partake of the hedonistic pleasures, then one must join the Neohedonists."

"So, no slaves to loan out?"

"No slaves."

He nodded, and I could tell he was very nervous.

"My Lord, I just wanted to enjoy the mansion and the wealth and the food. I'm no politician."

"Which makes you perfect. Those who've joined your covenant want the lust and the luster. Give it to them. But no more stable. Yet, keep recruiting members. You will make enemies at court, but as long as your numbers are high, your people will be a wall around you. Especially since it is you who will be giving so many pleasure."

"But, the stable was Pothos's wall."

"And it killed him to build it. He sent that girl to me so she would not be hurt anymore, but also he wanted me to see the stable from her point of view so I would unmake it after he was gone. Will you help me do this? For Pothos?"

"You are my lord."

I smiled, knowing that he was about to break from fear, and I wanted to give him the impression that he had the strength to stand, so that he might not bend to the will of whoever he was speaking to at the moment. So I reached across the table and gave his wrist a friendly squeeze.

"Ontus, I'm also your friend."

After we were full, we went to the sofa with more beer and explored my djinn's library of music. When it was late I shared stories of the surface, and Ontus leaned forward when I spoke of Abdiel.

"I've heard of him. They say he's a ruthless killer."

"As ruthless as they get."

"And you were his friend?"

"We shared some memorable moments together." I remembered Fergus and Alabaster, and noticed that they had told none of their Red Side companions of the outside world. I couldn't imagine them holding such a truth back, but it seemed wise to time its revelation. So I did with Ontus, deciding not to tell him of the view Abdiel and I both had of the Sun. Ontus spoke only the lies of the Dagons on that matter, and I thought it best not to overreach my grasp.

When at last he left, I hurried to my bedroom door and slowly opened it. Zook had been anxiously reading a bound book I'd found in one of V's grand libraries. Would you believe that it was Sisophys Smiles?! Bound in true hide with the title embossed and a gold gilt on its edge. I approached her very slowly, sat down some few paces away, and with my hands together begged for her forgiveness. She scowled at me as she wiped away snot and tears. I found her a cloth from my nightstand, and resumed my seat on the floor.

"Thank you, Zook. I know that was hard. I did not know he would stay so long. Please forgive me."

The Stylus, with its colors shifting in the light as My Lady did with her many long necks and undulant hair, conveyed my mood more effectively than words ever could.

"It stop!" she said. We'd managed a few words between us. I'd learned that zook was not a name, but a word for the way a small animal scurries away from a predator. It was targ for hurry. When I learned this, I offered to call her something else, but she had taken to it, so that was that.

"Yes, Zook. It stop. It stop. One way or another. This city will reform, or I will tear it down."

She did not like that, and repeated her word for father. Abi, abi, abi! She shouted.

I employed the Stylus, eager to reassure her.

"Your father will be saved. I will tear this city's rotten heart out, and give it to the innocent. Your father will sit on the new court of Thirty-Ninth Day!"

And I felt my stomach knot, having spoken as V must have at some point in the past. And yet, I remembered what I saw, and what Monanet had told me, and I thought for the first time that the reasons for my many wandering steps might just have some sort of reason behind them, as I came to that place when I was ruined and strong, not hopeful and distracted. There were many crystal sarcophagi in the chamber of SOMA. Surely there were enough for each member of the Batch. There was assuredly a coffin set aside for me. Had I been even the least bit gullible, I might have found myself in one of them shortly after arriving.

My stomach persisted in its tightening, as I'd spoken in a way that I found vile, and could not bring myself to smile while Zook danced around the room shouting Abimelek! over and over, ending on my bed where she bounced like a child. I realized with a bit of horror that I had no idea how old (or young) she even was. Targs as a rule covered themselves with so much permanent ink and scarification that they had an almost amorphous aspect. I couldn't decide if seeing her happy revealed that she was very young, or if she was merely acting young because she was happy. But, as I often can't stop myself from doing, I fled from the answer, not even caring to ask her her age. Instead I considered the plan that I had just proposed. Monanet wanted to save the city, but I was on the verge of a terrible epiphany, and I think that I may have been unwittingly tapping into the minds stored within the quicksilver tombs inside SOMA. The thought of collapsing the city had never before occurred to me. Yet there, when feeling the urge to save and protect people who I'd seen cause no harm to others, I could veritably feel myself crumbling the city's pillars while those exiled above came down in droves to claim V's empire for their own.