This time when Sol awoke she was properly restrained. No longer in the vault but in her room. The crisis must have passed. Sol groaned softly and pulled against the cuffs, her limbs sluggish and nearly unresponsive. Blessedly the room was dark, a gentle breeze causing the curtains to dance and the only sources of light being the sunstone sconces.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” A familiar malachite voice said softly, when Sol looked over she saw that it was Dr. Ashur. “Mind if you explain to me your thought process?”

Sol blinked a few times, the words taking a few moments to even register as the gears in their head only just started to turn as she fought off the remnants of the painkiller.

“Thought process?”

“For your daring defense, of course.”

Her mind was still muddled, but even the restraints wouldn’t explain the stiffness in her wrist and ankle. Slowly it came back to her and she looked at the affected limbs, both had a thick surdy cast wrapped around them. Distantly she thought that she could definitely hit someone with it and she wouldn’t feel a thing.

“Doctor was supposed to return with a weapon,” She paused, trying to recall the woman that had strapped her on that bed in the first place. It was all muddled and mush, about how she felt her brain should be at that very second. “Nurse trapped me, and when a lycan came I did what I had to.”

Despite the fact that Sol had spoken in a clipped voice, and only gave him the barest amount of information that could constitute telling the truth, Dr. Ashur slowly nodded.

“I see,” He said, in that neutral tone Sol often heard from the medically inclined. It was grating enough that it helped rouse her from her drug induced slumber. “Do you believe that it was the only way?”

“It was the only way I saw, yes.” She stared hard at him, trying to will his heart to stop. “I’ve yet to see any who could stand up to a beast, let alone would. Even in my current state I dare say I’d do better than you Doctor.”

“I will not argue that.” Dr. Ashur spoke as if he were speaking to a particularly disobedient child. Though given his age, Sol could easily be the age of any grandchildren he may have born.

Sol took a few breaths as she watched him look at his clipboard, in and out slowly. Just like Mother taught her. She tried the restraints, disappointed when they didn’t go very far. She could ask to be removed from them, however that might be pressing her luck. Guest in his house she may be, but she was still a Huntress from Eden. Maybe this was why they kept sending him. Ashur wasn’t skittish like the others that actually attended to her wounds, if anything he seemed at ease. He could have also come from Eden, an exile who outlived the Huntresses that had come to slay him. Only more reason to find out how they’d managed to figure it out.

“I will, however, argue that you are in no possible way fit to be in combat. You should be resting.” His normally warm and even welcoming gaze became hard, the doctor that Sol had knew during her short stay vanished. Suddenly replaced with another man his voice cracked like a whip. “What you did was reckless and imbecilic. You could have died, you could have gotten afflicted yourself. It was an emergency yes, and I do commend your quick thinking.” He sighed, pushing up his glasses. “I may have done the same in your shoes. But you were not thinking in accordance to reality, did you even think about what if no one came? If you were to hold that as your final stand?”

Sol shrank in on herself. Looking away from Ashur as she took the scolding like a trainee. “No.” She admitted after a long silence. “I did not.” Silence fell again between the two, a spiders web woven on gossamer thread waiting for one of them to speak. When neither did Sol looked at the doctor and found only his expectant gaze, and continued. “When I had managed to free myself, I couldn’t allow myself to think. All I could see was the beast, and the fact that it wasn’t just me in what was supposed to be a safe room…” She cautiously met his eyes. “If I let my mind drift for even a single moment I’m sure I would have died. I couldn’t stand properly, I could hardly think through the pain. If, if I had spared even a single thought for something that wasn’t finding a way out of its teeth-”

Ashur held up a hand, forstalling her rambling. “I was a soldier once, like you I was tasked with keeping those in my charge safe.”

Sol looked at him attentively. Ashur, a soldier? She mulled over what that would look like outside of Eden. Evidently he saw the look on her face and chuckled.

“Unless something has changed in Eden, your Huntresses largely deal in small unit tactics. I can’t recall ever hearing of a proper mobilize force in your district.”

Sol shook her head. “No, not in my life time at least. Maybe not in Mother’s either. Occasionally a pack may attack in numbers, but we do not need to bring our full might to bear against them.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Of course, but when I was a young man I tended to many young men and women like you. Not Huntresses of course, I’d not been so lucky as to meet one until Eden had quarantined itself.”

Though his phrasing sat ill with Sol, she couldn’t help but pick at it like a scab. Eden had been like this for eons. That was why the sunstones were the keystone of life, without them they would simply starve. The gardens and everything else that they’d built wouldn’t have been possible in only a generation or two, the magic that sustains them is old of course but the application is very new.

Ashur leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling in that forlorn way that Sol had seen from older Huntresses. “Those who excelled in training, maybe even earned top marks, who when they had someone looking over their shoulders was very capable. They always had something in common.”

“What was that?”

“A romantic idea of The Cause.” He looked back down to her, wearing his age like shackles. “You got lucky, Miss Hayward, do not press it further. I would hate to see you like so many of your sisters. Dead or afflicted, as you put it.”

He stood, releasing her wrists from their restraints and turned to leave. Rubbing her wrist against her leg Sol watched the doctor go. Experimentally she shifted her legs, though she was still shackled there it wasn’t likely that they’d go numb. With a heavy sigh Sol looked towards the drawn curtains, there was enough light for her to read. She reached over and felt for one of the books that sat on her nightstand and settled in, it wasn’t likely that they were going to let her out of this bed for some time.

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Glitterstone had certainly earned its name. Light danced across the streets in a magnificent display, the buildings that had stained glass windows caught the light with a beautiful shimmer. Stone and wood married in some magical fusion as buildings looked less constructed and more summoned into being. Margaux walked, enraptured by the sight. The fact that she had seen people walking about the Quarter at this hour? She had to holster her crossbow just to be able to walk the street unmolested. There was a proper guard presence and seemingly no curfew? Maybe she just got here early enough that it’d been lifted, but no so late that people would out and about just yet.

Margaux took a breath, re-centering herself. Just because Glitterstone gave the image of prosperity didn’t mean all was well. Far from it most likely. Holding Sol’s lantern up she followed its flickering light, taking off the rose colored glasses for a moment she was able to properly think. The more radiant, decadent, and ostentatious something outwardly presented the more likely it was that it was simply gilded rot. Trussed up and decorated to lead her astray. The fact that Sol was here at all only made Margaux worry more.

Crossing the street she saw a gaggle of guards dragging bodies, all lycan’s from the looks of it. Her gaze met one of the women who’d been handling them. Exchanging a curt nod, ignoring how broad shouldered she was and the amount of fur that lined her jaw. Margaux wasn’t here to pick fights she couldn’t win. Not when her goal was so close. Looking at the building before her she saw more guards and more bodies, of lycans and women both. A moment of panic shot through her heart and she looked at the lantern. Still flickering in Sol’s direction. It showed no indication that it was growing dim, the flames movements a gentle dance in the night.

“Leave it to you to find all the fun, Sol.” Margaux muttered as she approached the building. As she walked a woman began to approach. “Can I help you…?” She looked her up and down, uncertain how to address her.

“Do you have business here ma’am?” The armored woman put a hand on her hilt, eyeing Margaux with suspicion.

“I do,” She held up the lantern as proof. “I’m here on business from the Holy Church of Eve.”

The guard eyed the lantern, her brow furrowing. Margaux could tell that she at least recognized that this was something but didn’t know what. Part of her was frustrated but the another part was at least thankful the guard presence in this part of the city appeared to actually be doing something approaching their jobs.

“Ain’t no one told me none about that.” The guard lifted her chin, not quite hostile but given that she likely had been fighting lycans Margaux couldn’t quite blame her for being short with her. “Is anyone expecting you?”

“Another huntress.” Margaux squared her shoulders, she hoped that it wouldn’t come down to a fight but if it did she wasn’t afraid to throw down the glove. Even if she couldn’t take a lycan at melee doesn’t mean that this guard stood even half of a chance. “Her name is Sol Hayward.”

The guard narrowed her eyes, but held up a hand indicating that she wanted her to remain put and stepped away back towards her fellows. Margaux wasn’t about to start something when she might get in without a fight, and if Sol was just here… she couldn’t let herself think about that. One step at a time. She watched the guard hold some kind of stone close to her mouth, it glimmered as she spoke into it. Even when her lips stilled it seemed to shimmer in some kind of pattern. The magic reacting to their speech?

“What business does the Church have?”

The guard was keeping her distance this time. Her hand on the hilt of her sword, properly grasping it for attack. No sense to push her luck, Margaux figured, the truth would probably get her further than lying. Especially someone as jumpy as this woman, thank the Mother she didn’t have a crossbow. Margaux would have shot her by now if she was in her shoes.

“One of my sisters is missing, I intend to bring her home. From what I could tell with my investigation she was injured and I managed to follow her trail here.”

They stared at each other. She muttered into the stone some more. Margaux shifted awkwardly on her feet, looking from side to side. She could just make a run for it. Someone in heavy armor like that? No shot that she’d actually be able to keep up with her. The building likely had some security presence as well, perhaps something like the huntresses or maybe something more specialized in… whatever one would call “hallway combat” instead of just close-quarters. She could lose the guard and follow the flame till she found Sol, if she needed to kill anyone who stood in her way, she would. It took a moment for her to realize that the guard was speaking again, abruptly thrown out of her thoughts to pay attention.

“Follow me,” She said in a huff of frustration. “If boss man thinks he can get us somewhere, he can talk to you.”

Relief flooded Margaux, now we’re getting somewhere.

“Of course, lead the way.”