Everie was four years old when she first met her.

It had been a difficult year for the Zabaniya; the superior- armed forces of the brass cities had destroyed yet another branch of the local cultist militia. Guerilla tactics had stymied the offensive somewhat, but it seemed the wastes were embroiled in war yet again.

That meant complex security was increased. Not that it stopped Everie - or, back then, oh-thirty-three - from skulking around like she always had.

This time, though, she had been joined by a motley collection of other fledgeling members of the sisterhood. Oh-thirty-three only knew them as oh-forty-four and oh-thirty-seven; they were the more mischievous members of the Sisterhood, having yet to be broken and blooded by mission or ceremony.

With war flaring, that meant it was impossible for the Sisterhood to cross over to populated areas for assassination. After all, not even the greatest knifemaster could reliably parry a flintlock’s fusillade.

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“Shh,” oh-thirty-three whispered, glancing back at her compatriots. They stared back at her sullenly, but all three felt their hearts pound. They were about to sneak into the cathedral, after all - through a secret path in the scaffolding of this ancient complex that oh-thirty-three had discovered weeks earlier.

None of them had any memories of this place, other than that it was where the priests did their secret rituals and saw demons and other stuff. Of course, none of the Sisterhood above rank ten had ever actually seen one of these demons, which was why oh-thirty-three was especially curious - she was just naturally inquisitive about such things.

Of course, they got caught.

They had just ‘rounded the corner - they could even hear the chanting - a hooded figure grabbed oh-thirty-seven and oh-forty- four by the scruffs of their necks. Oh-thirty-three whirled ‘round in a panic - in half a mind to dash off - but knew it was futile; because this was oh-one - the prodigy. Oh-thirty-three’s puny four-year-old body would never be able to outrun her.

So, oh-thirty-three knelt, trembling, hood pulled down, ready to accept punishment from a superior known for her bloodlust as much as her reticence.