The undulating mass of bodies both flesh-covered and not, did little to ease Kelso’s rampant nausea while the trio made their way along the gray pavement. Ever since Podal Inc. monopolized the TeleCircle travel system in the early Magik Industrial Revolution the usually floral patterned walkways had been left to deteriorate underneath the feet of those unable or unwilling to use the city-wide transportation. Podal had made it their life's work to make sure the Free Cities, especially those built within the wide valley of the twin peaks of Sola and Luna, were reliant upon their system.

To most, this was a blessing, an easy way of travel to anywhere that you wanted within the city as long as you could afford it. No more dirt roads bordered by horse shit and groveling peoples outside their wood and thatch huts begging any traveler who looked to have worth to their name. No more long days of transporting burdensome building materials in the backs of rickety carriages or worrying about being extorted by commonplace thugs and bandits. No more stables, no more roadwork, no more security along the walkways once flooded with hard-working people.

Most importantly no more upkeep on the walkways. A deep divot jostled Kelso’s chair for the umpteenth time since they began their walk forcing Bukè to once again stop and patiently wait while Brennan pushed down on the push handles propping the front wheels up and out of the obstacle. The sea of bodies split off into two different streams as people rushed around them desperate to get to whatever destination was claiming their time today. Kelso enjoyed taking the common walkways even if the occasional petty thief decided to bother him, not that he really had a lot of options given the limited stipend he and Brennan were allotted every month. It was less claustrophobic and gave him a chance to move around as he pleased plus people didn’t tend to stare at him; they were too busy worrying about a knife in the back or the all-devouring threat of bills.

Brennan gave one last downward push. The tiny wheel popped out making Kelso bounce against the backrest as the chair came back down onto the pavement. Nausea pulsated out from his stomach and the fiery threat of vomit forced its way into his throat forcing him to hold his head in his hands for a moment. Even the darkness behind his eyelids began to swim until a gentle breeze kissed his neck cooling the small patch of sweat-drenched skin and alleviating a small amount of the nausea attack.

Brennan’s hand affectionately gripped his shoulder and a wave of warm energy swam throughout Kelso’s body demoralizing any attempt of expulsion his nausea had planned. Kelso lifted his head to find the fuzzy cream-colored script of healing magik coiling around Brennan’s ivory radius and ulna slowly flowing into his shoulder. Kelso offered up a smile as Brennan released.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you sure you still want to go to the concert tonight?”

Bukè crouched down beside Brennan.

“Ain’t nobody gonna think you’re a buzzkill we can just pawn the tickets off, get your money back, and chill at your place tonight.”

Kelso shook his head.

“No, I'm fine, I want to go.”

The two of them looked at each other.

“You heard the man Bren guess you’re getting your ass kicked in Shard Hopping tonight.”

“You fresh borns always think you’re hot dragon shite.”

“Fresh born? For all you know I could be older than you!”

“Yea yea yea tomorrow you might be but tonight you’re just another freshy.”

Kelso chuckled and pushed forward back into the ever-shifting stream of bodies forcing the two to follow after him. He felt Brennan take hold of the push handles again and craned his neck to look at the Undead but didn’t shoo Bren away. His arms were tired and although the healing magiks still coursed through his body the fatigue of the day remained. Bukè strolled alongside.

“So when do you go in for the ritual?”

Bukè put a bony finger to where lips would’ve been and made a whole show of pondering the question as they slipped into another stream heading down one of the side streets. Veiled lanterns swung on their chains below overhangs as the trio passed by an assortment of shops and boutiques extinguished until the last few rays of sunlight disappeared later in the day. The stream began to slow as vendors sat behind open arched windows hawking their wares pulling clumps of bodies off to the side and creating choked points along the side street. The aromatic scent of freshly baked seasoned bread struck Kelso's nose making it perk up and putting his head on a swivel.

Suddenly Bren steered him over to one of the open windows where a dwarven man whose beard had hundreds of tiny silver and gold orbs carefully woven in sat handing out fresh bread. Bren’s hand forced Kelso’s locked-in gaze back over to Bukè who was leaning against the wall of the bakery and though not possessing eyes still gave him an irritated glare.

“You weren’t even listening were you?”

Kelso looked back to the bakery window and saw Brennan ordering a dozen cinnamon rolls. Kelso pointed.

“Bread.”

Bukè’s head hung low. Kelso didn’t know undead fingers could move so fast.

“How’re YOU going to ask ME such an important question and then get distracted by BREAD!!? Does our friendship mean nothing to you?!”

Bukè raised a limp wrist, feigning as though a grievous wound had been dealt just as Brennan returned, setting the box of cinnamon rolls on Kelso’s lap.

“Extra sprinkling of cinnamon with elderberry glaze in a cup.”

Kelso cracked open the teal box giving up every ounce of self to the sugary scent washing over him and the hunger that now burned hot where the nausea had once been. Kelso dug around in his carry-on bag retrieving two small vials of necrotic “sauce” and drizzled their contents onto six rolls which he then repeated for the other side swapping out the empty vials for the elderberry glaze.

Bren and Bukè each took one while Kelso took two in each hand. They all looked at each other and then viciously consumed their bounty earning looks of pure shock from others passing by and a hearty laugh from the raven-haired baker.

Kelso looked to Bren.

“Bread.”

Bren looked at Bukè.

“Bread.”

Bukè looked to Kelso.

“Bread.”

Kelso finished off the rest of his side shortly afterward sitting back into the chair and patting his stomach satisfied with the meal. Brennan whisked the teal box off into the unknown that was the personal pocket dimension and returned to the back of the chair. Kelso poured every ounce of drama from within his gut and took Bukè by the wrist.

“Oh, Bukè how terrible of me to put bread before one I call a friend but oh I am merely a slave to the doughy goodness and must suffer its every whim.”

Bukè balled up a bony fist and playfully conked the top of Kelso’s scalp as the trio fell back into the stream behind two Felyria whose tails swished this way and that while they passed a lavish bottle of rice wine between them. The intoxicating scent of liquor that clung to their fur made Kelso’s head spin for a second before eventually the two ginger forms found their way into one of the many dive bars. Wood-paneled walls gave way to mortar and brick as the trio came out onto another open road with a neighborhood of middle-class homes on the other side. Unlike the previous road which led all the way to the western gate, this one was less packed and had lampposts bordering the main thoroughfare; an inactive light Elemiena sat encased in dwarvish glass at the top of each iron rod.

Peoples of all races wandered around at a leisurely pace, the elders adorned in simple clothing like any other while some youths walked around showing off the latest fabrics to anyone slow enough for them to stop and talk to. The brick walls they had just exited from carried on in either direction signifying the separation from the businesses that drew in wandering traders and adventurers looking to earn a quick bundle of telluade. There were some back doors for the lucky shop owners who were quick enough or savvy enough to buy up a building along the border that allowed them to quickly get across the road and into their homes.

Each gate had a similar design to it that most people commonly referred to as The Funnels where large blocky buildings filled with storefronts bordered the main roads leading in and out of Derwulan. Kelso understood the idea. It was easier to get customers that way and the Free Cities relied on trade to function but still, the architecture was depressing and repetitive the corporate overlords could’ve at least added a little flourish to the literal boxes that housed the indebted vendors. Brennan led them down the left away from the gate and kept Kelso closest to the brick buildings putting Bukè between them and the open street which was now being flooded with robed graduates returning home or like them heading out to after-parties.

“So when is the ritual?”

“Oh now you want to know.”

“Well of course I would like to know the bread no longer has any hold over me.”

If the Undead could scoff, Kelso imagined it would be the most common thing coming out of Bukè’s mouth.

“Just after noon tomorrow apparently. Can’t wait.”

Bukè’s hands shook in mock excitement. A tense mood fell upon the Undead causing usually weightless shoulder bones to sag. The Undead are not permitted their memories upon resurrection until basic education and magikal control have been taught, usually at the Necromancer’s expense. Most Undead yearned for their past to know who they were and the paths they took within Nûne to be proud of who they were and seek out those they loved even if they were under contractual work. Bukè feared knowing though. Why? Only Bukè knew and that was enough.

Kelso took Bukè’s hand within his own.

“Do you want me to come with tomorrow?”

Bukè’s empty sockets fell upon Kelso’s eyes. No emotions. He knew they were there. Bukè focused back on the path before them and took a minute before responding.

“No. Thank you though. Besides I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your big ascension to the Sak’Oril Academy. Lucky Mrs. Peyet was there to off-”

Kelso’s head snapped over to Bukè. The wheelchair stopped and Bukè froze, still looking in front of him. Kelso didn’t even have time to formulate the hand gestures.

He blinked.

A toilet bowl sat before him covered in a myriad of piss stains and leftover speckles of excrement the echoing thrum of music made his whole body vibrate as cinnamon bile spewed forth into the bowl. Nausea once tamed by Bren’s healing magiks raged within the limits of his body and just as Kelso sputtered the last few viscous droplets from his lips another torrent clawed its way out. He fought against the urge to grab the rim of the filthy bowl, his face now hung over instead pushing his palms against the bordering walls of the stall to stabilize himself.

Where was he? Where were Bren and Bukè? Why was he alone? He needed someone. Anyone. Where were they?!

His stomach began to constrict sending horrid shocks of pain rattling throughout his body but the burning bile refused to loosen its burning grip on his throat. His palms now slick with sweat began to slip down the walls inching his face closer and closer to the disease-ridden bowl below. The door to the bathroom swung open on squeaky hinges, the irritating sound quickly drowned out by the rapid chords of an Elemiena-powered lute and the resounding thumps of a drum set.

The soft plopping of leather boots replaced the music as the door squeaked shut followed by sniffing and a disgust-filled exhale.

“Ugh, this is the charm she spoke of? Ridiculous I should’ve listened to her mother.”

A heavy accent trailed along the common tongue of Derwulan though Kelso didn’t have the mental acuity to accurately place where from. The stranger opened the door to a stall that seemed to be further down. Kelso didn’t know. He didn’t care. Heavy breaths escaped his trembling lips. It was all he could do. The gentle plopping of tears formed momentary circles of water within his puke before the cinnamon-tinged vomit greedily swallowed them into its rank depths.

Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?!!

Kelso slammed a slippery fist against the stall wall the pain of which briefly replaced the dizziness of his vision and garnered a breathless whisper from the stall further down.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“What in the seven hells?”

A toilet flushed, a belt buckled, and then the stranger vacated the stall stopping only to wash their hands before leaving the bathroom alltogether. Kelso took a few more heavy breaths before he was satisfied that nothing else would erupt from his lips and leaned back into the old leather letting his head hang loosely off the back. Rivulets of sweat slowly crawled down his face joining the already established streams of tears and lending their soft plops on the tile to the heavy ambience of what he assumed was the venue. His lips burned. His throat burned. His heart ached. He wanted it to end.

How many times now?

Too fucking many.

The pale fluorescent light of the Elemiena above forced his eyes shut. Too bright. His stomach loosened only slightly to send a rumble to his brain but his appetite was nonexistent at this point and no amount of Shifterweed could help. Kelso smacked his parched lips in an attempt to regain some moisture in his mouth when a short buzz came from his bag, thankfully taking his attention away before the residual taste of the vomit made him gag. After an excruciating minute of digging around in his bag he managed to find the Divini although he had to quickly lower the brightness of the device or risk worsening the cacophonous migraine trapped within his skull.

“Dear, Kelso Jingari

We of the Peyet House have officially finished your paperwork and are proud to announce you are formally recognized by the Ruling Board of Sak’Oril Academy as a Peyet Candidate. As per candidacy contract all boarding, course material, and various other fees will be taken up by the Peyet House while 10 percent of all adventuring income excluding any magikal artifacts found by the candidate may accrue over time spent at the academy shall be sent to the House of Peyet. Peyet personnel shall be by tomorrow at 11 o’clock sharp to help escort and/or help the candidate move any material possessions the candidate may wish to bring with them. We expect the candidate to be up and ready to go at this time and any tardiness shall result in the increase of income due to the House of Peyet. Any materials brought with shall be sent directly to your room at the Academy while the Tests for admissions are being conducted. Any questions Mr. Jingari may have should be directed to [email protected] and will be answered as quickly as possible. Do not fail us.

Formally, House Peyet”

Nausea threatened his mind once more, sending his vision back into the dizzying spinning that seemed all too familiar by now. Candidacy? This had to be some sort of cruel joke. What House would be dumb enough to offer up candidacy to someone without magik. Without a future. Doubt entered the savage dance his nausea was conducting within him until a soft green glow emanated from within his bag and the source within plucked the feeling before the dance could reach its climax. The ribbon-bound scroll he had felt within his hands on the train earlier illuminated the inside of the cloth bag beckoning to be unfurled. Kelso blinked and found it resting atop his quivering palms, the ribbon already removed awaiting… no demanding he opened it. Something within his soul couldn’t resist its pull and without a second thought, he rolled the parchment open.

Upon the parchment was a black-bordered circle of green an auburn tree sat in the middle, its leafless branches curled wickedly in any and all directions it could until meeting the border. Gold-tinged droplets eternally stuck in freefall fell from the branches onto two open palms which sat on either side of the trunk one with the Summoner Magik Sigil, a swirling portal design with various creatures outlining it, and the other with a Sigil Kelso had never seen before. The second palm had a scarlet eye whose gaze unnerved Kelso though he couldn’t quite figure out why and within its iris sat an antique scale the likeness of which resembled the description of the god’s tools to judge the souls bound to their domain.

It began to glow. Brighter. Blinding. It burned itself into Kelo’s vision. It hurt. Suddenly it was gone causing Kelso to blink in confusion desperate to get the blurry blobs out of his vision while his head whipped around the small stall trying to determine what had just happened. Without warning a molten pain came from the back of his hand and as he looked down he saw lava-like veins of magik carving the Sigil into his pale skin. He screamed. He begged. He wanted the vomit to return. Anything. Any kind of pain. Just not this. Please. Make it end. The bathroom door slammed open and two sets of feet came stomping in.

It was gone. The pain subsided. House Peyet’s Sigil now sat steaming on his shaking hand. Too much. His head lolled limp and just before he passed out he felt large meaty paws gripping his shoulder.

At last, someone had finally found him.

Voices surrounded him in the darkness. Cold water found his lips and he drank greedily from its source the refreshing liquid slid graciously down his scarred throat. Fur-covered hands propped his head up on a pillow as calls were made and the shuffling of feet brought a blurry silhouette before him the smell of rich incense flowed off the figure as blurry cream script took form coiling around the body and wound its way over to Kelso. The blurriness of his vision receded and unknown faces began to grow detail around him. The figure who had been casting the healing magik was a white-robed halfling whose cherub face broke out into a smile once Kelso began to breathe easy. A series of spiraling tattoos drifted lazily up onto her cheek where they ended just below kind milky eyes slightly hidden by auburn bangs.

“Ah the divines above have not claimed your soul just yet, child this is most gracious of them.”

A broad shoulder Congaki laid a meaty paw on the halfling's shoulder, his cow-like ears twitched with a sense of accomplishment while his ruddy nose began to flush with joy. Similar tattoos adorned his bearded face but his shaggy blonde hair hung heavily over his eyes obscuring their end.

“See now Wilma the little one turned out to be juuuuust fine now dontcha know he’s got that spark within him well he’s just like the rest of us ain’t he. Strong.”

Three more figures appeared behind the two healers; the unmistakable ivory tops of Brennan and Bukè brought another wave of calmness to Kelso until he focused on the third head. Blood-red eyes peered out from stark white bangs while the rest of her hair was tied back into a tight ponytail exposing the dangling silver chains whose plugs were firmly planted into an assortment of piercings each glittering with a variety of gems. Kelso couldn’t believe it. The lead singer for Necrophrose Adina Val’Aoki watched Kelso with a worried expression as the two Undead rushed past the healers to the hastily put together bedding Kelso now found himself on.

Bony fingers drew his gaze away from the famed Dark Elf as Brennan turned Kelso’s head this way and that fretting over him. Bukè stood farther back.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”

Kelso limply pushed Brennan’s hands away.

“I’... I don’t know… the Peyet Sigil it..”

Wilma fumbled around Kelso’s torso respectfully pushing Brennan back while doing so until she found his arm. Soft fingers trailed along his forearm until they found the back of his hand and slowly began tracing the border. Thin lines of white script trailed after her finger adding a glowing outline to the… tattoo? Brand? Now that he thought about it, Sigils weren’t supposed to be painful.

Once the outline was finished the script began to glow softly. Kelso followed the script as the glow continued to travel along her arm until it connected with the tattoos below her left eye. The script spiraled into her milky eyes. She gasped.

“Oh dearie me child. I see. I see.”

The Congaki finished packing whatever instruments the two healers had been using to treat him and came over beside Wilma running his fingers through the unkempt locks of beard hair decorating his jaw.

“Ohhh me ohh my Wilma we sure got a bit of a doozie here, don’t we? Who knew we would meet a child of the Divines not blessed by their touch huh.”

Adina’s ears perked up. Kelso hung his head in shame.

“Mutashi!”

Wilma’s hand flew out in an attempt to smack Mutashi in the side and she would’ve connected if Mutashi had been standing on her right side instead her hand simply cut a path through empty air. Mutashi’s lips spread into a small smile as he placed a giant paw on her head and turned her to face him.

“Ahh sorry Wilma and my apologies young one I meant no offense of course. It is simply a one-in-a-million chance to meet one such as yourself.”

Mutashi bowed his head, sending the dirty blonde locks swaying in different directions. Wilma threw a soft punch into the Cognaki’s side before turning away from Kelso and towards drawn curtains where the muffled voices of venue attendees filtered through.

“Well, that explai-”

Mutashi turned her around to face Kelso.

“-ns why the Sigil had such a drastic effect on your body. See Sigils usually connect with the magik one has in their body, the hand being the easiest of course since most magikal power exits the caster via their hands when performed. However, since no magik resides in your body the Sigil had nothing to bond with so instead it must’ve connected to your physical body bu-”

“Wilma you gotta slooooow down maaan you’re freaking the little dude out.”

Kelso’s mind was reeling. Thankfully whatever nausea he had before had been expelled with his sweet… delicious… cinnamon rolls. His stomach rumbled.

“Don’t fret it, little dude. After our preliminary examination of your physical and magikal wellness, we have wholeheartedly deduced that you in fact are not in any life-threatening danger. Here drink some of this Belotan Juice for a couple hours and you’ll be right as rain well as right as rain can be I guess since it falls downward. I guess if the wind pushes…”

Mutashi had turned back to their equipment continuing to mumble to himself while retrieving a foggy bottle from the pack and upon returning to the cot placed it in Kelso’s hand.

“Now don’t you go drinking it all in one big gulp now little dude not that you’ll be able to hehehe. C’mon Wilma, we got other people to take a look at, pretty sure I saw this funky-looking pixie downing some funkier shrooms earlier, can't imagine they’re having a good time right about now dontcha know.”

Wilma gave a big smile to the empty space next to Kelso, gave a small pat to the edge of the bed, and spun around to grab onto Mutashi’s shirt as the duo made their way down some stairs beside the curtain.

“Don’t go asking them for any now ya he-”

The healers disappeared. Kelso stared down at the bottle for a few seconds before uncorking the stopper. He took a precautionary sniff and gagged from the smell, shoving the bottle as far away as possible desperate for his nose to be rid of the stench. Kelso scanned the area for Brennan and Bukè who had retreated to a spot closer towards the stairs where the healers had disappeared down and once again had ethereally green script wrapped around their heads although Brennan seemed to be in a far more foul mood judging by the angry hand movements. Before Kelso could grab the two Undead’s attention the loud clanking of Adina’s steel-toed boots made him turn his head away right into the predator-like features common among the Dark Elf lineage. Ruby eyes bore into his soul merely centimeters away causing the last few beads of sweat still in his body to gather along the crown of his head. A midnight palm held his left cheek.

“No magik. And you still came to my show.”

“I-i-i… well uh it… was uhm… yea no even without uh… I love your guy’s music Brennan would sign the lyrics to me while I listened to the… oh uh ok.”

Adina closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his.

“Thank you.”

A wetness greeted Kelso’s cheeks. Embarrassment threatened his sanity. Was his sweating dripping onto her face? Was he being weird? Oh, Divines what did he smell like? Did he put on deodorant this morning? Yea he mus-

Adina’s body shuddered. Her breaths grew labored. They were tears.

“My clan disowned me. They told me the art of music was for the weak. That I had no place in the world. That I would die outside of the Midnight Mother’s domain. That I was nothing.”

Kelso forced his jaw to stay in place. The pain in her voice swelled within him.

“But you came. You listened even though you couldn’t hear. You understand. I thank you young one.”

Adina pulled back. Tears pooled beneath her eyes as she smiled now cupping both hands around Kelso’s shocked face. The slight clacking of bones tore the moment away from them forcing Adina to back up to make space for Brennan and Bukè. Brennan crouched down to eye level. Bukè wouldn’t face him.

“Ohoho those healers gave ya some wine huh?”

Kelso stared at Brennan for a couple seconds until the smooth glass of the bottle registered in his mind forcing the dazzling… beautiful… ruby eyes…

Shit. His cheeks began to radiate a heat he didn’t know the human body was capable of emitting.

Brennan noticed the stuttering hand gestures Kelso made and swiped a quick look toward Adina before returning his gaze to Kelso. Kelso knew the signs. Brennan was plotting something mischievous.

“No no no not wine it’s some sort of tincture or something I don’t know. Smells like shit.”

“Ahh ok, I see. Well, you’ve been out for a bit you wanna head home and get some sleep? You got a big day tomorrow what with your Candidacy Exams and all.”

Brennan gave Kelso’s shoulder a proud love tap. The moment made the future disappointment on Brennan’s face once Kelso inevitably failed the Exam all the more sour. Kelso forced a smile. He gave up. What in the seven hells was his life right now? He turned to look at Adina who was now preparing herself for the rest of the show and the smile became a little less forced.

“Nah I want to stay.”

Brennan froze for a split second. Almost imperceptible. Almost.

“Alright, kiddo we’ll stay. I’m sure you’re new… friend would love that.”

Kelso thought his face was going to melt off while Brennan returned to full height and fetched Kelso’s wheelchair with a proud swagger in his walk. Kelso turned to Bukè with a smile attempting to get the Undead’s attention. Bukè’s head turned automatically but the shiver that ran up the stark spine made Kelso’s smile falter. Bukè’s jaw had a hairline fracture running from the chin to where the lower lip would’ve been and the trembling fear in the Undead’s movements was unmistakable. Bukè suddenly turned away and before Kelso could make any kind of move Brennan was there in the middle of the two pushing the wheelchair closer to the bed.

Two figures appeared on the stairs. A half-giant woman and a graying minotaur man were walking over to the little cot while Kelso was settling into his chair each had a silver cuff bracelet around their right arms aglow with deep blue script. The minotaur walked over to the cot while the half-giant woman approached Adina and began whispering in her chain-adorned ear.

“Rin happy to see you safe little one. Had Rin worried.”

Rin clasped a meaty hand on Kelso’s shoulder and almost tipped him out of the chair if it hadn’t been for Brennan’s hand on his other shoulder stabilizing him.

“Rin proud to see you back to dance floor. Rin can tell this little one is strong but for safety reasons, Rin will keep very close eye for rest of show. If that is acceptable.”

After Kelso signed the words to Brennan who simply nodded leaving the decision up to him.

“Uh yea, that’s fine. You’re gonna be bored though not much I can really get up to.”

The half-giant woman left Adina’s side just before the vocalist disappeared through one of the bordering curtains presumably leading out onto the main stage and came to a stop right next to Rin with two neon yellow bracelets dangling from her right hand.

“Ms.Val’Aoki has asked that all three of you be upgraded to VIP personnel for the rest of the show please extend your arms.”

Brennan and Kelso stuck their hands out and the bouncer deftly snapped the VIP bracelets onto their arms while Bukè who was already standing by the stairs fidgeted with the bracelet. Worry wormed its way into the ecstasy at being upgraded to VIP and as the group made their way over to the stairs Bukè noticing them began the descent melting into an ocean of darkened faces. Brennan followed and then Rin but Kelso had to stop at the top of the stairs because well they were stairs.

“Shit.”

The half-giant woman who had introduced herself as Griá paused behind Kelso with a huff until she saw the problem and under her breath chastised herself.

“Apologies Mr.Kelso.”

“Oh uh no wo-”

Suddenly Kelso was in the air, the delayed shock of the ascent only caught up with him when Griá began her descent into the pit of the venue with the chair planted firmly on her shoulder. Once they had reached the bottom of the stairs Griá set Kelso back down beside the steel barriers that separated the pit from the actual stage and stood patiently behind him.

“After you Mr.Kelso.”

“Uhm Kelso is just fine.”

“As you wish Mr.- *ahem* Kelso.”

Kelso made his way down the divide towards where Rin, Brennan, and Bukè were waiting at a private section separate from the sea which only had two or three people in it. Rin was currently showing off a host of tattoos to Brennan while flexing any muscle group the tattoos may have been on and to Kelso’s surprise, Brennan was feeling each and every spot. Kelso stopped short. A thin smile grew on his lips.

Two could play this game.

Kelso put on a bit of speed much more than the normal pace he went at forcing Griá to take longer strides just to keep up not that it sounded like it was too much of an effort for her. Kelso released his hands and let the momentum carry him right into Brennan’s back pushing the Undead into Rin’s broad chest where the minotaur caught him wrapping his burly arms around Brennan. Kelso backed up trying his best to hide the smile plainly plastered across his face while the two awkwardly dislodged themselves. Rin put a giant hand behind his jeweled horns while Brennan whipped around to face Kelso the Undead’s spinal cord was trembling now. Despite the new attitude even Bukè was trying to suppress a full-on laughing fit.

“Oh sorry Bren my hands must’ve slipped I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

Just as Brennan was about to pop off on Kelso the curtains began to pull back and the stage lights lit up revealing Necrophrose in all of their glory with Adina center stage. Griá pulled one of the barriers out allowing the trio to get into the VIP section beside the other three people who were already there and pushed the gate back into place once all three had made it in. Overhead lights flooded the stage twisting and turning over all of the band members until finally settling on Adina who now had a CrystEnhancer to her lips.

“We apologize for the sudden intermission my little Necro’s but you needn’t worry your precious little scalps… as an apology and as a special treat for our dearest fans we shall be performing a never before seen piece. So I ask…”

The lights cut out leaving the entire space in a void.

“ARE YOU FUCKERS READY TO ROCK!!!”

The venue exploded with a chorus of approvals. The drummer understood the cue and began slamming her drumsticks in conjunction with the opening chords of an Elemiena-powered lute. Adina’s voice seamlessly melded in. Her voice. Kelso took a double take. Most artists, promotional speakers, really anyone used telepathic magik to communicate. It made it easier. Everyone just tuned into the magik no voice cracks no stuttering just your inner voice. It also made it impossible for Kelso to hear anything anyone said to him. Her voice was in his ears though and it… fresh rivers of tears greeted his face and he lost himself to the melody.

Brennan and Bukè tilted their skulls in confusion until Rin raised a finger to the two and red script danced through the air in their direction wrapping around their skulls once it made contact. Both of their heads started nodding along with the lyrics Bukè’s even started head banging joining Kelso’s already twisting mop of ginger. During the moments when Kelso’s head was up, he managed to catch Rin exchanging his Divini info with Brennan while Griá paced the divide breaking up any mosh pits that got too violent. Adina pointed at Kelso while holding a note that made the joy of the night rise to an ecstatic fervor.

It was perfect.

He forgot all about the Sigil. The future. He was here. Now. In this moment.

He loved it.