Among the more minor grievances Eve had with the world were two things: first the fact that something always had to be happening, and second, the astounding tendency of said thing to go suddenly and horribly wrong.

All this to say that the sweet scent of donuts had caught some strange insect’s attention. This wouldn’t have normally been a problem, but the bug’s wingspan was the length of her arm and it had a half-insane glint in its compound eyes.

She hadn’t bothered arguing, just held the box out and fought not to flinch when its mandibles skimmed close to her skin. Now she was lost, and donut-less.

Eve was a dead woman. There were few things Aska disliked more than tardiness.

Nearly a head shorter than most of the deities in Cropis, Eve trekked silently higher, towards the tops of those craggy peaks. Her movements were deliberately unhurried so as not to draw any additional unnecessary attention. There was no wind here, air so stagnant and full that each inhale slipped like liquid through her lungs. She glanced up, half expecting to see storm clouds, but the sky was conspicuously dark and empty, without even a single star. Only that syrupy, greenish glow that leaked vertically into an infinite distance.

From somewhere to the west, the tolling of bells rippled over the endless hills.

Eve turned away from the sound and headed East, into a mess of gloomy alleyways crammed between gargantuan mansions and stores - none of which looked familiar. A river the color of green jade pierced the street, gurgling softly and smelling faintly of sulfur. It plunged past the buildings and over the edge of the island, free-falling hundreds of feet into the darkness below. She wasn’t sure what it was, and she felt disinclined to touch it, hissing as it was with power. But it was certainly too broad to jump over.

Evaluating the nearest building, Eve sighed and curled her hands into the dark brick, nails chipping with the strength of her hold. Cautious and trembling slightly, unused to such physical labor, Eve pulled herself flat against the wall, and then began to inch slowly, painstakingly, along the length of that shimmering fluid in the hopes of finding a bridge.

The source of the liquid was an aqueduct of some sort. It ran along the ground for only two blocks before the watercourse lifted skywards on stilts of gray stone. Sticky with sweat, Eve stepped onto firm beneath it, having to crouch slightly, and exhaled a shaking breath.

What on earth were the mythics channeling, where to, and why?

And how could they possibly dare to leave it unattended?

It was a sudden thought, and one that made her pause. There wasn’t a chance anything with that much old magic was unguarded. Then that meant -

Eve’s gaze swiveled, hardly daring to move, and landed several feet to her left. There, at the base of the nearest pillar, a half-shadowed figure. A Nai Ga. A sanctifier.

It was nightmarish, just as she remembered these creatures being. Human in form, dressed in gauzy robes of gray over pitch black armor. For now, the sanctifier remained kneeling, knees spread piously, palms pressed together in opposite directions in prayer to the elders. She could see how long it had been there, everlasting candles balanced across bulky shoulder pads and arranged in a sinister crown over the headpiece covering the top half of its face. The wax had formed stalactites that hung from the edges of its perfectly still body. Perhaps a week since it had last moved. That estimate would line up to the rust-colored stain across its front.

But she was safe, for now. The candles still glowed. It hadn’t sensed her. Not yet. Eve took a cautious, silent step backwards. She’d find another way around.

Sanctifiers didn’t have eyes - had given those away, in exchange for the sight of the old ones. The highest and most devout followers of the Elder Gods, they were also the most dangerous.

A sound cut through the air. Cheery and bubbly, a lighthearted guitar. Her cellphone ringtone - the only one Eve hadn’t found annoying when setting up the blasted device, and now murderously hated. She scrambled, hands jerking, turning the phone off, but even then, the sound seemed to warble off slowly, soaking into the devout silence.

Atop the sanctifier’s head, the candles went out.

Oh.

Oh no.

If Eve survived this, she was throwing the damn phone away.

Keyword being if.

The Sanctifier stood, unfolding a second set of hands out from beneath the cloak. They held curved sickles which looked dull in the sudden lack of light. The first pair remained firmly clasped and unmoving. Unseeing, the creature’s head nevertheless turned exactly to where Eve was standing.

Stay calm, she told herself, digging in her pocket.

“Ahaha,” Eve laughed, nerves cracking her voice in the middle. “Didn’t know you were guarding this. All a misunderstanding, I assure you.”

“What are you?” the creature said, in a voice that was clear and lovely, but holy shit, Eve didn’t think she’d ever heard one speak before and that made this situation all the more terrifying. She’d been spoiled by the minor monsters that had been leaking through to earth.

“A tourist?” There was no change in the sanctifier’s expression. She could sense the blatant disapproval anyways. It tickled her chest and made her heart go tight, as though any second it would give out beneath the pressure.

“Lies.” A simple declaration, but one with no doubt in it whatsoever. Eve frowned thoughtfully. Sanctifiers had, essentially, one job. To borrow the strength of the elder god they served and cleanse that which the elder gods deemed...extraneous. The fact that she was still alive meant it had not made a decision one way or another.

She could use that.

Eve studied the intricately carved armor along the sanctifier’s front, and it waited quietly. The air smelled charred. Half truths. If it even suspected she could be an enemy, it could destroy her. Eve would have to be careful. Gritting her teeth around a shudder, she shrugged, struggling to make the movement casual.

“I am here to see a companion.” Aska would take issue with her phrasing, but she wasn’t here to tell her off. The excuse would have to do.

“This quarter has been emptied.”

“I got lost.”

“You do not live here?”

“I do not,” Eve said, in a careful voice. “I am only visiting on business.”

“And what might that be?”

“Research.” Eve said, and this one was more of a lie than the rest. She hoped it was not obvious, and watched for any changes in the creature's expression, finding none. Thankfully.

“Indeed, a popular thing to be conducting as of late. Though I cannot fathom why so many have taken interest in Cropis. A small town, all things considered.”

Eve blinked, clearing the dryness from her eyes and kept her heartbeat carefully steady. “A millenia of time drives even the most logical of beings half-crazed with boredom.”

At her response, a languid sort of confidence settled into those long, muscular arms. The prayer fell apart. Eve wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

After a creeping, drawn out pause, one of the four palms gestured dismissively outwards.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Exhaling shakily, Eve began to walk away. She’d gained a half-dozen paces on the sanctifier before that voice, soft like velvet, rang out anew. “Wait. Where did you say you lived?”

Something was wrong. Too calm. Her instincts yanked at her, spreading chills across her skin. Was it more dangerous not to answer? “Beyond,” she said, vaguely.

Soft, plush lips, curled into a tight-mouthed smile. “Lies,” the sanctifier purred.

Eve broke into a run, still half-convinced she might be able to get away.

Her head-start did not buy her much time. One sharp crescent blade sliced along her back, opening a long cut across her right shoulder and nearly taking her swinging arm along with it. This - this was the reason these creatures were so powerful. What she had been afraid of. The speed and might of the gods. More than one lesser being had fallen into their grasp, never to be heard from again.

Civilizations had toppled at their hands.

Eve was in so much trouble.

In front of her, the darkness flickered. And from within it, the second sickle appeared, swinging outwards at her neck. Eve felt, real, genuine fear - paralyzing - and was thankful for it. The chill and sensation of the floor dropping out beneath her feet sent her awash with energy, strength, and Eve side-stepped the blade lithely, body a mirage of speed.

A hiss left her lips unbidden, biting back pain when the motion strained her open wound. She spun, fighting to ignore the sensation, using the momentum to land a sailing punch directly on the sanctifier’s perfectly calm face.

The sensation could only be described as plunging one’s fist into a bucket of steaming water, a shock of heat and scorching pain that much outweighed any damage she’d done.

Dropping with curse and scrambling backwards - still a dozen times faster than any human - Eve decided to roll the dice.

She pushed off the wall, leaping sideways, and allowed herself to fall directly into that pulsating, green water. As her eyes squeezed shut, she saw the sanctifier, face torn apart by a scowl, fling a palm out towards her. Then the current took her.

It was traveling faster than Eve had been expecting, quickly enough that she panicked, briefly, thinking about the precipice of open air that would follow. Then sanity retook her. Her hands clawed against the aqueduct sides, painfully, but firmly enough that she managed to drag herself back up and into the air. She had to keep moving. She had to lose the servant, rid herself of it, before it killed her.

That’s when she noticed the trace. It was pitch black and hanging off the heel of her shoe, transparent enough that it could have been mistaken for a shadow if she hadn’t noticed the glimmer of a spell inside of it.

“Shit,” Eve said, eloquently, eyes tracing the thread of it, stretching far into the distance.

A niggling idea tickled her mind. Foolish. Foolish enough that it just might work.

Eve took her shoe off.

Sure enough, the trace remained firmly affixed to the leather boot, and stayed there, even after Eve had abandoned the shoe and taken to the roofs.

The sanctifier appeared in a flicker of smoke and darkness, trailing a full minute behind. A howl left its mouth when it found her shoe, but not the rest of her. Eve was more or less certain that sanctifiers were beings that had not known failure. Even before - with her - they had been more than enough to suppress any rebellion.

Now, seeing its fury and frustration left a bittersweet victory flooding through her veins. Despite everything, Eve fought back a smile.

“I have tasted the very bottom, to achieve the strength I have today,” the creature hissed, looking less than holy and half-feral as it spun searchingly, seeking any threads of her presence. “You - a mere human - you will not escape.” Eve dropped from the roof, a short scream of the creature’s surprise leaking through her chest and up across her tongue as the full weight of her body slammed atop its head. Even that was barely enough to knock it to the earth, sturdy like rock. She’d have bruises tomorrow.

“You do not know what the bottom looks like,” she whispered, in its ear, feeling the shock flow out the sanctifier, through her limbs, and the blast of pure energy which left her palms pulled a short scream from that unchanging, expressionless face. “And I am not human.”

“It can’t be-”

“Yes,” Eve smiled.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“There are a lot of things that I’m supposed to be,” Eve said. Beneath her, the sanctifier looked a bit dazed. Stunned, just long enough that she had time to scramble off and blast the shaking terror from her limbs.

There was barely enough magic to activate the trap she’d chalked onto the stone around her shoe. It flashed once, bright violet, the hastily drawn symbol folding in on itself, like the spines of a book, taking both the sanctifier and the shoe with it. Eve blinked and swayed, collapsing into the empty street. Sweat was thick at her temples.

Thank god those things were blind.

For a long time, Eve sat, exhausted and still damp, on the ground. Nausea had begun to build at the back of her throat. An anxious thrumming started in her chest at the pain bleeding across her back.

She was so tired.

Worse, she was still lost.

“Alright,” Eve said, entirely to herself, dragging herself back upright. “You can pity yourself later.” Her ankle, injured from her earlier skydive, held her weight - barely - when she tested it, and she started up again in a slow drag upwards.

Aska’s familiar, bright pink door made her want to punch something.

“You’re late,” was the first thing Aska said when she stepped over the stoop. The woman was sitting on a plush, rose-decorated arm-chair, and was reading something studiously.

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

“Donuts take that long?”

“No, but chasing off the sanctifier certainly did.”

Aska’s head swiveled towards her. The woman had dead, fishy eyes half hidden beneath bluntly-chopped bangs, and a constant deadpan expression that was at a total contrast to her absolutely sunshiney mood.

The bright smile she flashed, looked, as a result, totally disingenuous, and left Eve feeling slightly unsettled.

“You kill it?”

Eve glared at her. “Obviously not. Just sent it back.”

“They’ll notice that right away.”

“I know,” Eve said, and it came out quiet. “At least it won’t remember. They never do remember their past lives.” Aska set her book aside. Eve glanced at the cover. 100 Ways to Make Money - And SPEND IT!

“Eve dear, you look perfectly dreadful.” If Aska was saying that outright, it meant that she was truly in poor condition. Eve took another step inside, and her sock made a strange, wet sound against the glossy wood flooring.

Aska cringed. “A shower?” She suggested. Eve could have kissed her.

Instead she only nodded, mute, and allowed herself to be herded into a (pink) marble bathroom.

The deity was waiting for her in the kitchen when she emerged. A mug of coffee sat, perched atop the dining room table, stone cold, but with the brush of Aska’s fingers began to bubble and steam.

A commotion had begun outside, but Eve ignored it, collapsing in one of the dining chairs, cradling the mug between two hands and taking tiny, measured sips with her eyes closed. Her exhale, a soft half-whimper, took a good bit of the tension out with it. The sound of raised voices which had carried in from outside faded just as quickly.

“Now then,” Aska said, fingers drumming over the table impatiently, “care to tell me why you’re a bundle of nerves?” Eve looked at her without turning her head, eyes sliding sideways.

“I think for your sake, it’s better that I do not.”

Aska thought about it. “When have I ever been known to go for the smartest option?”

“Infrequently,” Eve muttered, then sighed, long and slow, looking down at the dirt-colored drink. “But this time it really would be best to listen to me. I’m in trouble, Aska, and in bad enough trouble that you could get hurt. This might be the last time I see you.”

There was no reply to that, other than the gentle scraping of Aska’s chair getting pushed out, her footsteps padding the short distance around the table so she could lay a hand on Eve’s head.

“It cannot possibly be worse than the time they hunted you and you -” Eve cut her off, hand grabbing the fingers in her hair and squeezing them gently, a careful warning not to say more.

“Probably not,” she admitted. “But if I am not careful, it will be. And after last time...” she trailed off, momentarily, allowing Aska’s hand to drop. “I’d do anything to make sure you’re not involved.”

Aska snorted huffily.

“There you go again with the bad habit. Let people make decisions on their own. You are not omniscient. You don’t always know what’s best. And I’m sure half the dangerous situations you’ve been involved in recently would have been a hundred times easier with some help.”

“And you know why I cannot allow that,” Eve said gently. Aska fell quiet. More screaming filtered in from the streets. Eve felt her eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“What’s with all the noise?” she asked when a dozen skittering feet slid past their doors.

“Humans snuck in,” Aska shrugged. “City’s on high alert, since that makes two breaches in one day, counting yourself of course. Wonder if they’re going to move the gate soon.”

“Another human?”

“Yeah. Got away too. Awfully resourceful. Wonder if it wasn’t an accident.” Eve glanced sideways, out the kitchen window, at a sky full of darkness and little else. She suddenly missed human sunsets, with their pinks and magentas that lingered across the horizon. Aska would like those.

“They catch them?” Eve asked, hardly lifting her eyes from the night.

“Nope, not yet. And get this,” Aska said, a note of amusement in her voice. “They were driving a hella expensive sports car. You know, like the kind you showed me in the magazines?”

Eve froze. It took her brain several seconds to catch up with her instincts, to jerk herself from the sudden slew of horror and realization and -

She knew exactly who that sports car belonged to.

Samir.

He’d followed her.

And now he was stuck, somewhere in Cropis, amidst the monsters and the gods and sanctifiers.

Like she said, suddenly and horribly wrong.