"So," Arman drawled, his voice slipping low and smooth through the silence, "at what point are you going to explain what's happening?"

There was no graceful way to move about a city that was bathed in near perfect darkness, and so all three of them had linked hands, with Eve clenching Arman's palm despite multiple protests. She couldn't risk having her senses impaired when already feeling blindsided. A faint violet line snaked along the ground in front of her, guiding them in what Eve hoped was the right direction.

This was not the location she had written into her spell. Which meant that their passage had either been intercepted - or the person Eve was looking for had gotten into trouble of some kind. In no positive situation could Eve imagine that woman living in a place like this.

Arman yanked at her arm, harshly, demanding an answer with entirely unnecessary force. Eve winced, and yanked back twice as hard.

"I thought we were keeping things separate. Besides, can't you more or less guess at this point?"

"I have some theories, but mostly I'm wondering if I've just been having one long, exhaustion induced hallucination for the past few days."

She sighed, sensing the man wasn't about to let this go. "Fine, what do you want to know?"

Arman stumbled over something in the dark. Samir caught him before he could fall atop of her.

"Are you actually going to answer?"

"I'll do my best."

"Is the world ending?"

Samir snorted. "Stupid question."

"Obviously not," Eve pulled their little train in a new direction, where the ground began to slope slowly upwards, and where dotted light sprinkled the streets towards the horizon. "It's merging."

"Merging," Arman nodded, then froze, his reaction several seconds delayed. "With those things that we saw earlier?"

"Just because you couldn't see them, didn't mean they weren't always there. Haven't you wondered where all the legends come from?"

"What legends? Like Dracula or something?" She gave the redhead's hand a firm, meaningful squeeze. His voice went a little hoarse. "Seriously?"

"Does a blood sucking monster sound like something that belongs to the human realm?"

"I mean we have mosquitos," Samir said. Eve turned away, staring blindly forward.

"Shush now," she whispered, fighting the twitch of her lips. An obedient silence fell over them.

It lasted for all of two minutes.

"Sooo, are we going to see this person you don't like because of the merge?"

"Arman," Eve rumbled. "I'll glue your lips shut, and that's not a joke."

"It's a valid question. Seems rather important."

"I admit - I am curious as well," Samir added.

Eve inhaled, long and slow, hating the bitter way the words slunk up her chest and across her tongue. "Yes, In part. She's...always liked to stay in places where the barrier between our worlds has grown thin. It helps her. With her magic. She might know what's wrong with it. And...I'm too weak right now to do anything. About my body - I don't have anybody else to ask."

Samir's fingers brushed against the curve of her waist, then retreated. "We'll save your friend."

"Hedeon't won't kill her. She's much too useful a pawn. Against me."

"That doesn't mean that you aren't worried," Samir's words licked across her heart like a soothing balm. It was marginally annoying that he always seemed to know what to say.

"I have to prioritize."

Arman shook her hand off, lips curling with disgust. "You made that choice way too easily." In a way, Eve was glad it seemed that way. She had two, fragile, stupid humans with her in a land where even the most miniscule of mistakes could prove deadly to them. If the shaking she felt deep within made its way to the surface - if her nerves failed - it would end badly for their merry little band of adventurers.

The deep, heart shattering shudder that vibrated up through the ground at these cheerful thoughts was not her own. It rolled over her toes, reverberating in her knees, through her lungs, and against her skull.

The ground shifted. Then it began to curve. Ever so slowly, the horizon began to change, the side of the street sloping, up and up and up.

"Oh,' Eve breathed. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck I know where we are-" Her hands were moving on autopilot, and she crumpled the last of the stationary into one, enormous ball. It exploded into purple fire, her anxious fervor shooting it up from her open palms. The globe rose like the sun, and illuminated the edge of the street which had folded over, now hanging almost directly above their heads.

This wasn't a city. At least not originally.

They were standing atop one of the titans of old.

If the sanctifiers were the soldiers of the gods, then the titans were their weapons, borne of their power. Eve hadn't seen one in centuries, not after they were lost amongst the pits of the mythic dimension. The suffocating darkness they were drowning in, which felt as though it swallowed all light, suddenly made a lot more sense.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Someone had built a city atop it? No, more importantly, how was it still alive?

Eve could count on one hand the number of beings the beast could belong to.

"I don't like the look on her face," Arman said, to Samir, who had cold fire in his eyes and both hands still out for balance. He was clenching his teeth so hard they looked like they might crack.

"We need to get out of the open," Samir said with a calmness that didn't match his expression at all.

Eve nodded, not bothering with words. The two of them were drilling a hole in the side of her face; an admittedly warranted reaction.

The titan's eye was visible now, craning slowly in their direction, the movement slow and steady.

They went sprinting down the closest opening, pushing, lungs and muscles burning. The drab stone-skin of the city rushed past them, too similar to discern how far or fast they were traveling. She plunged sideways as her magic curled, and found that they'd arrived in a second courtyard, identical to the place they'd begun walking from.

A row of doors lined the far wall, and the traces of her magic buried deep beneath one of them. Eve stumbled forward, following the last of the trail as it disappeared. Samir steadied her, almost habitually. Her teeth clattered. She was so empty - exhausted. So much magic.

Samir was so warm.

Eve pushed him off and opened the door.

The house must have been lovely once. It had high beamed ceilings, and white-washed walls, with plenty of shelf room and a glowing starfield bobbing amongst the rafters. There was only one room, but it was wide and neatly laid out, with a long, glossy white table lined up along the far wall and the bubbling of magic still simmering throughout the walls.

It had also clearly been ransacked.

Arman stepped into the room and his foot caught on glass, which crunched, loudly beneath his foot as he set it down.

"Ask me where I thought I would be a week ago," he muttered lowly.

"How utterly darling." The ceiling shimmered. From what looked like the folds of the night sky, came a shape. Mira.

The seer of wishes, dreams, and prophecies.

The most beautiful woman Eve knew, with kaleidoscopic eyes forming constellations and an elusive wispiness to her motions, as though she were molded from air.

Eve sighed. "Hi, Mira."

"I was wondering who'd brought the sweet little ducklings in to visit. Should have known it would be you, Evelyn," the woman purred, floating closer. A delicate finger drew a sign across her lips, tasting faintly of dust and fire. "You don't look so good."

"Neither do you," Eve said under her breath, and she meant it. This wasn't the woman's real body; not by a long shot, with the way it flickered and waned like a setting moon.

"Ah, well," Mira swirled in an elegant, curling motion up towards the ceiling. "Yes. You probably haven't heard, but it's been a little bit of a mess over on this side." Eve stayed quiet, hoping the woman would say something more, but instead those long legs towed through the air, towards Samir and Arman. "I bet it's safe to assume who the Cropis invaders were though."

"Leave the humans alone," Eve growled.

"So protective," Mira sang, smile stretching an inch or two too wide. "I was only going to take a look."

"And likely leave their minds crippled while you were at it."

"Suit yourself," she sniffed, seemingly ignorant of the way both men crept backwards, until they stood behind Eve and almost at the door. "Well, either way, I have a fairly good idea of why you're here. But I have to question you anyway. Where's Aska?"

Flinching at the unwelcome reminder, Eve's reply was nevertheless steady. "Hedeon."

"Ah," a gentle toss of long, shimmering hair over the shoulder. "That does complicate things for you a tad, doesn't it? You're hoping for a prophecy?" The room seemed to dim slightly, constellations flaring overhead. "You should know that there's no point in trying to change them. It's never worked."

"I don't need a prophecy," Eve swallowed, going soft and quiet. "I'm trying to...fix my body." A laugh echoed then, low and edging on insulted.

"A wish then," Mira said, sounding deflated. It was probably because she hated actually granting wishes. "That's what you ask for, after all these years? How disappointing. I was hoping that you knew how to have a little...fun."

"I did not wish to rely on another at all," Eve winced, the admission painful. "But I've found myself in a position where I have no other choice. And I thought that maybe since I was once one of you - since we were friends once - that you might at least grant me a hint."

"Oh sweetheart," Mira looked at her pityingly. "You still think you're like us?"

"I mean not anymore, but Dorian said-"

"Ah yes. Dorian, the most trustworthy companion you've had over the years. You were never one of us Evelyn," Mira interrupted curtly. A small, pleased smile danced on those perfect lips. The goddess paused to draw a small, glowing question mark in the air. "Time has not changed you at all. So naive. So trusting. Haven't you ever taken a minute to wonder why the gods fought so hard to keep you contained and monitored?"

Eve shifted her weight, brows pinched. "Because I was useful?"

"Hm," Mira hummed. "Well, it would be no fun if I gave you all of the answers. But I do agree that a little hint could make this quite entertaining. Don't you think so?"

"Whatever you're thinking, don't do it." Eve scowled.

"Too late," Mira grinned, and at her back, Samir was keeling over, a hacking cough yanked from his throat. A suffocating cough. His knees buckled, and his palms plastered themselves to the floor. There was a wet sound. Dark liquid. Blood.

So he could bleed.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip. Thick and heavy.

Eve snarled in fury, flying to his side, hands darting everywhere and nowhere, afraid to touch the man. What if this was a trick of some kind?

Mira was still talking behind her. "If you want to save him, you're more than capable of doing so and breaking the curse at the same time. All you need to do is believe in what you can never believe in again, then..." She trailed off, her voice first going high and surprised, then sliding into a hesitant, velvety intrigue. "Oh?"

Beneath Eve's hovering palms, Samir stopped heaving. He wiped a hand under his nose, succeeded only in smearing blood everywhere, and gently pushed Eve away with a shrug of his shoulders. Then he stood, turning to the shimmering silhouette.

"I would appreciate it," he said, in a low and menacing simmer, "if you never did anything of the sort again." Mira floated in shell-shocked silence. Samir's gaze glimmered, deadly steel, as the goddess flinched backwards and flashed the whites of her sharp teeth.

"You," she began, but the outline of her body had begun to flicker more intensely, in and out, the words distorting until they were barely audible. "How are you-"

Mira disappeared.

Eve hadn't shifted an inch. She hadn't even drawn in a single breath, and Arman seemed similarly stunned.

"Eve," Samir rasped. "Are you alright?"

"Samir?" Her own voice was tiny, reserved. Not at all intentionally. The man turned at her call, but it was with unfamiliar slowness. He'd shoved fury down to where it was just barely veiled beneath the surface, threatening to burst back from the downwards curve of his lips and the tick in his jaw.

"Are you alright?" he asked, again. Almost desperately.

"Yes, but that's what I should be asking you - hey!" Samir pressed a bloodied hand to his temple, and failed to hide the clear wince that passed over his features as he swayed.

Arman caught him. "Happened again, boss?"

"What is this?" Eve demanded, loathing the way she sounded shrill to her own ears. "What do you mean again?"

Samir waved her off. "Just a migraine."

"Do not take me for a fool."

"It's nothing that bad," Samir said, but he was clearly trying to placate her, unfocused and exhausted. "I just need to rest sometimes."

Eve looked at Arman, who was staring studiously at the shattered glass decorating the floor. He didn't need to answer.

She could feel his guilt.

A strange pit settled at the bottom of her stomach.

"Arman. How long has this been going on?" She asked, dangerously impatient. Samir hissed out a curse, but swayed again as he tried to straighten fully.

"Since he met you."