“Master KeDolas, I am glad you were able to meet with me.” Slim face, slim waist, slim legs, even the wavy hair the color of starlight that went down to the small of her back appeared sleek. With the beauty of an ice sculpture, the young lady poured some tea out for her dour faced guest before reclining back onto a luxurious couch.

“Miss YuVoin, I know the situation.” Tersely, he lifted the cup and drank from it. After a long sip, he looked down at the bottom of the empty glass. “This is a strike.”

“Please forgive me, I just thought it might help you relax. You KeDolas are always so uptight—you especially Marton. Maybe if you cut loose you could see the colors of magic as my family does.” Karen seductively arched her back over the armrest of the couch she splayed herself across. More out of habit than expectation of eliciting a reaction; the KeDolas family may as well have been golems, perfectly in control of themselves and programmed from a young age.

She’d just put some hallucinogens in his drink, and he calmly dismissed the matter. Karen didn’t expect them to have much effect on her rival family’s next leader, but even so the reaction was just too dead. At the very least she hoped he would change his expression.

“Get down to business. I am not here simply to meet with you.”

“Tch. I don’t know how those three can stand being around you, nor why you grace them with your presence. This is just a single leaf of the Western Array; they’re nothing special.” Karen couldn’t help but sneer while mentioning Marton’s acquaintances. Other than Marten, they were worthless, and even he amounted to little on a larger scale. The YuVoin family stretched across all four arrays, yet she was being causally dismissed.

“Have you ever been to the center of this array?” Karen tightened up at Marton’s words. Toneless, it was his words that carried the cutting edge; asking a simple question that impartially judged depending on her answer.

Cold, stoic, balanced; the KeDolas family saw themselves as emotionless arbiters to judge others. Their self-righteousness only cut when you answered wrongly, but you only ever had a chance to answer wrongly. Only by detaching themselves from worldly matters could they judge without hypocrisy, and that was just what they did.

And so since time immemorial, her YuVoin family, the scions of emotion, had an unfavorable relationship with them. People are not meant to remain bottled up, why else did willpower have such a strong impact on spellcasting? While one shouldn't be thoughtless, they should never be inauthentic. No matter how hard the KeDolas tried to remove themselves, judgements resulted from the self. The YuVoin felt ambition, bravery, compassion; in the end, they would be the ones to remain.

Even so, there was a reason the KeDolas could hold on to their outdated beliefs. To her family, they were the perfect counter, easily grabbing on to their emotions and twisting them. No matter how much Karen despised Marton’s dead tone, even without any maliciousness, the words twisted a knife into her gut.

Damn it, she should be allowed some pride over a backwater prodigy! She was an heir to the YuVoin family, how could some nobody possibly match up to her? How could his talents even compare to someone like her with the blessing of the YuVoins spread across every array?

“What does it matter if I have been or not? He certainly hasn't! How could someone limited to a single leaf of a single array measure up to myself? More than anyone you should know the benefits of having the aid of a family like mine. That sort of person won’t amount to anything.”

“Your family does not teach, letting you grow wildly. Strong, but you do not learn to put aside your biases. The YuVoin have information, but not knowledge; this is why I am able to see what you cannot.” Marton made points she did not agree with, yet could not refute them coherently.

Looking into her eyes and registering her disdain, he reached towards one of the many knives in the holsters along the lower portion of his suit. Drawing one out, Karen raised an eyebrow; despite being overly logical in almost every case, the one exception was in regards to their personal knives, which the KeDolas treated with absurd reverence.

The blade looked quite simple, though it had no doubt been made with a rare metal of some sort. It put her on guard, any knife was a weapon in the hands of a six-blade master of the KeDolas family. A personal knife especially, keeping her eyes on it was just like watching another one of Marton’s fingers.

“This is a lesson only given to members of the KeDolas family. Before their first blade, they must understand this.” Dipping the tip of the blade down, it vanished into his arm and he dragged it forward several inches, before lifting it out. Only after several moments did it begin to bleed. Somehow, the edge lacked any blood, yet he still wiped it down with a cloth.

Karen stopped with her relaxed posture, only feeling frustrated. A KeDolas trying to proselytize to a YuVoin? There was no point to it. Whatever he meant by his action, she could only disdain it; to treat yourself so casually in service to an ideology, why suffer for something so useless?

“Hold out your arm.” Marton held out his left in front of him, staring at her. It was as if he expected she would. What idiocy, people weren’t robots.

“I’m not partaking in your masochistic ritual. Whatever your point is, you’re wrong. Anything that needs that much self harm just to make a point isn’t worth believing.”

“Hold out your arm. You can heal yourself afterward.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it. This is just some stupid thing you do to your initiates. You don’t need to bother with this, heal yourself up and we can start talking about my family’s request.” Karen rolled her eyes with a soft groan. She regretted not getting on with it and triggering the lecturing nature of the KeDolas. They thought they could just describe the basic truths of the world, as if that would suddenly convince anyone they were right.

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“Hold out your arm. This is a valuable favor freely given to you, and there is no refusal.” Lightly gasping, Karen felt a chilling aura beginning to bear down on her. It was only out of surprise, as such an effect meant nothing to someone at her level. Marton might be able to be more forceful, but it showed he was beginning to get serious.

Karen narrowed her eyes, giving him an icy glare in turn. Two could play at that game, and she would definitely be able to overwhelm him. After all, exuding a malicious presence was based on emotions. But she remembered her surroundings and why she bothered attending Jegel; it wasn’t in her best interest to get into a serious fight. If it placated him, she could easily fix herself up later. Karen figured it would be less troublesome to just go along with him.

“Fine. Don’t expect that I’ll agree with your imbecilic ideas.” Holding out a slender arm, the faint feeling vanished like a tiny flame in the wind.

Marton reached over, grabbing her extended arm with his wounded one, keeping it upright so his blood did not spill. His smooth and lean hands held on to her wrist to keep it in place, for someone so cold the grasp was surprisingly warm and gentle. Well, it wasn’t as if she was resisting—if he had been more forceful, she would have complained about it.

After all, it was only a thin cut. Karen had not travelled to the Center of the Western Array, but it wasn’t as if she’d never taken part in real battles. She suffered from broken bones and torn internal organs and continued fighting, the heirs to the YuVoin family were not coddled. Pain was not foreign to her, and no YuVoin lacked willpower.

She only slightly winced as metal entered her skin without resistance. As expected, it was unpleasant, but totally bearable for someone of her caliber.

Karen’s delusion only lasted until the blade entered its full depth. A searing fire and glacial ice rose up in an apocalyptic storm. When her flesh had been sliced in battle, it did not match a thousandth of this pain. When her bones snapped, it paled before in unrelenting pain that refused to subside. Marton’s hand clenched tightly, keeping her forearm totally immobilized, as she began to try and wrench herself free.

If she had been in a calm state of mind, perhaps she could have done something, but under the crushing pressure of pain it was as if she no longer existed. Pain, and experiencing pain were all that she was for those moments. Unable to use magic, or even vocalize; Karen couldn’t feel fear or hatred, every ounce occupied by the primal signal saying something was wrong.

Unable to grasp time, she didn’t know if it had been an eternity or an instant. As soon as she regained her senses, Karen attempted to begin a spell reflexively, but her mind was in such turmoil it was impossible for her.

Marton looked on, unsurprised by the reaction, only going to wipe off his knife.

“There is no need for the wound to remain now.” Taking out a second silky cloth for his flesh, he wiped himself down as his body knitted itself back together. “This is the first lesson of the KeDolas family. I will explain it, for though it will taint your understanding, you are not a member of the family. Even if two experience the same, they will not react the same. No matter who it is, pain is pain, yet differences arise. Birth, training, talent, none of these are truths. There is only what is, and what we do.

“Understand I value them more than you. If your position means nothing, it means nothing. Now we may move on.”

Karen’s mind spun, trying to get a grasp of what in the world the KeDolas heir attempted to convey, but her mind still spun. What sort of madmen made up their family? If their new recruits really went through such a process, then the whole organization must be insane. If all their leaders were like Marton who could shake off such a feeling—impossible, he had to have done something to her in particular. No one could kill off enough of themselves to ignore something like that.

“Sadistic scum—” She clenched her teeth, trying to force a healing spell to form. It took her several tries before managing. “What did you do, you cheap bastard, no way you can just—that...ugh.” Head still reeling, she was glad they were already sitting down so she could manage to save at least some dignity by not falling down.

“To reach the second blade, one must be able to inflict the wound on themself. Any senior member of the KeDolas can do this while retaining their mind. That lesson is not necessary for you, but this is no trick. What is, is.”

Gritting her teeth, she regretted the course of events. Despite unsettling her, the wound closed easily and wouldn’t pose any long term problems. If her mental state was disregarded, things were exactly the way they were beforehand. And being authentic with herself didn’t just mean trying to return the favor, no matter how satisfying it would feel.

He could call the YuVoin egotistical, but they weren’t narcissists. She could recognize there were things more important than grudges, no matter how justified. This needed to be one of those rare occasions when the YuVoin and KeDolas stood together.

Karen took a deep breath, calming herself.

“You owe me for that. What we are about to discuss is already high grade information; the only reason I would tell you is because of necessity. In addition to your...transgression, that’s only fair.” Marton made no sign of acceptance or refutation of the idea, waiting for her to get to the point. “The YuVoin request the assistance of the KeDolas in convincing the Golograth to provide an exception to the Pact of Restriction.”

Finally making a move, the heir to the KeDolas crossed his arms and began tapping at his chin. It may not have been much, comparing it to his stillness earlier he may as well have leaped out of his chair. Not that doing so would have been too great a reaction either.

The Pact of Restriction was something not well known, but anyone who became powerful enough would eventually hear of it. A treaty between the three, technically four, great families: YuVoin, KeDolas, Golograth, and Elyisil. Formed back in a time when the YuVoin, KeDolas, and Golograth warred across the land without reservation, the unchecked conflict left billions of miles devastated and tainted with a slurry of magics.

Normal humans could not survive the endless slaughter between the three factions; the exceptionally gifted would stake out small claims as warlords, only to be swept away by the next pass by one of the big three. Vast swathes of simpler lands were swallowed up by the clans without a second thought, or care for the inhabitants. More of this territory existed than could ever be inhabited, but they fought for it only as means to procure cheap resources for their true end.

The four Arrays, existing equidistant unimaginable distances apart. Except for large scale magical artefacts, they were too far separated for even magical communications to breach the distance. Yet each one had such value that even unimaginable distances did not stifle the dream to capture all four. At the center of each array, a foreign power accumulated in quantities far surpassing anything even the greatest within the three families could harness, forming jewels with more power than many gods.

No family would give in, yet due to the infinite expanse of land the battle covered, none would ever truly be defeated; strongholds had thousands of years to entrench themselves before their discovery. Ravaged beyond recognition in many places, in time even the families saw what the war had wrought. They would not give in, but they also knew they could not continue.

And so the Pact of Restriction came into being. The YuVoin in the West Array, the KeDolas in the North Array, the Golograth in the South Array, and the East Array became the first battleground between them, with a foothold ceded to powerful independents who grew to be the Elyisil.

Forbidding each other from leaving the Arrays, the first to break it would inevitably be cut down by the other two, and with the removal of the independent families would leave two to those remaining. To maintain the rules, the other factions kept a presence near their enemies, and in time it became clear that the newest fortresses, planned to stand for eternity, would likely do just that. Thoughts of overthrowing the masters of any Array other than the East alone was foolish.

Contemporary times were fought in the underworld, with each family usually holding power over the major crime syndicates elsewhere. Their aim was to siphon away as many resources as possible to the homeland, but the dream of breaking the stalemate grew fainter every year, and even the Elyisil began setting down roots over the millennia. None of them dared to make an open strike against the independents; to break the status quo at all meant that the benefits outweighed the risk of possible extermination.

Karen was not only asking to break the status quo, but to bring all three families to the table on equal footing. If it had just been a conversation with the KeDolas to attack the Golograth it may not have been surprising, but the YuVoin wanted them involved as well.

“Why? What matter requires us to act in unison?”

“Gods.” Karen cleared her throat. “At least three of them are acting up. Maybe six. Maybe more. Something is happening out in the common lands, and they are beginning to fight over it.”