The world reoriented itself and Korsha found herself in darkness. Though it wasn't the darkness of space as her feet were pressed against something solid. Glancing around, she saw nothing. She spun on her heel. This was why she hated the stims. They dropped her faster but the connection was weak. Fragile. Leaving her disoriented. Focusing her mind, she centered herself or at least she tried to. The last week’s events piled around her, collapsing pillars that had dominoed around her threatening to bury her alive.

One central concern remained. Enaru wasn’t here. It nagged at her, reminding her like a beacon of fire bristling in the night from a nearby enemy encampment. Here in this perpetual wasteland of blackness, time was measured in the steady pounding of her heart. She waited. Dozens of heartbeats merged into hundreds. Her head dropped and a heavy breath escaped her lips causing her shoulders to rise before slumping down.

He wasn't coming.

He was still angry with her. She couldn't blame him. To him what she had done was abhorrent. He didn't understand the utilitarian necessity of things. Once more she was being stretched between two opposing forces and should it come to a snapping point she knew which direction she would tear. Yet her mind still raced to find a way to delay the inevitable. Enaru had been a part of her life for nearly as long as Deidra had. Though it might have been longer, Korsha’s recollection of those earlier years was more impressions of smudged emotions than crisp memories. Losing him had the same terrible taste that losing Deidra had. A cup she was eager to keep away from her lips for as long as possible.

Her brow creased as she concentrated. Bringing her hands up before her. In the darkness a soft pale light formed between her outstretched fingers. The light fractured into a prism of azure lines. They wove themselves together creating an intricate lacework of thicker lines that enclosed smaller more labyrinthine patterns of mesmerizing complexity. They twisted. Twirled. Swirled and whirled in hypnotic mandalas that merged together to create the emergent image of her precious moth. The lines had formed a divergent reflection. What was thin and delicate on one side was thick and strong on the other. The final pieces were set into place as two moons appeared. One was filled in, the azure light dripping into it until it was nearly full save for a prick of emptiness. The other was reversed.

The moth was complete. Frozen in place. A floating stained pane of glass. Then the wings flicked. Twitched. Then came to life in a beating frenzy of enthusiastic fluttering. Korsha lifted her arm allowing the moth to perch upon the back of her hand.

"Don't fail me now." She whispered as she clenched her eyes tight and focused everything within her on her master.

She’d never tried this before in Keshkigal. She’d know how the spirit would react or if it would even work. Did she have to know what her master’s spirit structure looked like? Or was picturing his face enough. What about his actual face, not the cyborg half that she'd come to know. She'd never known his true face but in the spirit world such things didn't matter. Your spirit could be fractured but your essence didn't change. You are what you are, she told herself.

The moth danced in the air before her. She held her breath as she watched its form splinter and break off to form a dozen or so moths. Then they shot off, their collective light illuminating the cave around them, revealing dozens of passages. What would I have done if I didn't have them? There's no way I could've navigated this. The thoughts sent a shiver down her spine as she sprinted forward, following the smallest group. Her mind was a murky puddle and right now the fewer decisions she had to make, the better.

She ran for an eternity, alone in the caves with her doubts. What if she couldn't heal her master? She wasn't really even sure that she could. Spirits could interact with magic, they even had a magic of their own but she had never heard of anyone doing this before. If she succeeded, this risky move would pioneer a whole new style of healing and possibly give the Dominion one more tool to keep mages at bay. It could mean the difference between victory and defeat if the Dominion ever went to war with the Rorance Kingdoms.

She'd heard stories about that empire. The kingdoms were ruled by tyrannical mages that used their power to enforce their authority. They weren’t like the benevolent thaeruun, her master's own race, that watched over the Dominion like faithful shepherds. The goddess’s chosen, as they’d been called before the founding of the Ecclesiarchy. More like caretakers than actual rulers. Much in the same way he was her caretaker and not simply her master.

She continued to run, though her lungs didn’t ache nor did her thighs burn. She chose to stay tethered to the ground where she was comfortable. Before her the moths danced, breaking off every now and then but so long as they continued forward, she didn’t stray. Light formed upon the edge of the world. An exuberant shout erupted from her. The cavern echoed the sentiment. Within minutes they’d made it. Unlike in the real world her eyes didn't have to adjust nor did the light sting them. She burst out of the hard rocky interior that had surrounded her out into the open expanse of endless shifting beauty.

She paused, taking a moment to orient herself as she soaked up the landscape. In the distance a line of mountains formed a wall at the edge of this universe. They rose, jagged peaks arching in an upward sweeping motion. It was as though some unknown god was sweeping a katana up, breaching the ground and darkening the horizon. There was a fierce beauty in it.

Closer to her the world was severed, terminally split into a vast canyon. Its sides, sharp and severe, dropped off as reddish rock plunged into abysmal darkness. It was wide enough to fit an entire starship inside. A solitary moth illuminated a path down towards the beginning of the canyon’s maw. She chose to ignore it.

It was moments like this, filled with overwhelming grandeur, that she wished she’d possessed the artistic talent. The scene before her could have filled a thousand paintings. She could take those impressions and share them with her master. He could speak to her through his daemon and he acted as though he could see her but any time that happened Keshkigal was gone, thrust away into outer darkness.

A quick glance to the right revealed a forest with large pillars of rock that jutted up to the sky. No moths went that way. She turned left and saw a black shadow of a distant mountain built of obsidian. She could make out the red glow of lava in the fields around it. Dozens of moths went in that direction. She gazed at the canyon once more and chewed her lip. She needed to make a choice quickly before the moths got too far away.

She ran to the edge of the cliff face she was standing on, jumped and tethered herself to one of the dozens of moths. She’d had her fill of darkness for the day. The cool air became tense, writhing from the bubbling heat of the lava fields. The moths broke apart, cascading in four different directions. Unsure what to do, Korsha continued to cling onto her previously chosen guide. She was confident in the spirit’s ability to choose a path she could take.

She was racing toward a ledge. She jumped, landed, squatted and then thrust herself up into the air, all while letting the moth propel her forward. The grassy ground gave way to a seething cauldron of hostility. Vibrant hues of furious crimson and malevolent gold replaced the ground. The lava writhed and twisted like a serpent, flowing and bubbling up in sprays of fiery spittle.

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She landed upon a black outcropping, mere feet above the melting death below her. The air shivered, a mirage of intense fear and heat. Though she felt the lava’s power, it did not harm her. The heat seeped into her boots. It was hot, and in the real world it might've even been blistering, but here it was just intense. Though she wasn't about to throw herself in the lava and test to see if the lava was any different from her universe.

She hopped from rock to rock, the mountain looming larger and larger until details formed. That was no mountain, but instead it was a structure. Columns lined the perimeter of the structure supporting a curved sweeping root that tapered up like the crest of a crown. Around the structure were floating islands of solid black rock. Streams of lava poured down for them like deadly waterfalls. Several minutes later she was passing one, her eyes widened as she realized the lava wasn't flowing down but up.

She released her hold on the moth as it was heading straight for the structure. Whatever it was, she wanted no part of it. Stopping, she landed upon a wide obsidian platform floating just above the lava. A stream of magma rose into the air, a pillar of fire that terminated in a floating island some dozen yards above her. Darting her head back and forth, she spied another moth. She leapt into the air, lashed herself to the moth and allowed the momentum to yank her up and to the side. She spun, allowing herself to reorient to the rocky shelf of a floating island. The moth drew her along, bearing her momentum upon its wings.

After some time, she stopped pausing on an island floating high above the lava. She’d just passed the palace, as that’s what she now considered it to be. She drew the moth back to herself. She was making good time. She’d been steady, not wanting to push herself lest she made another mistake.

She gazed out at the landscape around her. She needed to fix the geographical features in her mind so that she could map them out later. She used the palace as a focal point. Placing the canyon to the south and the forest further beyond that. To what she was now considering east and west there was nothing but the flowing blood of volcanoes. Rising up before her, at the edge of the horizon ws a tundra. It was like a wall, a boundary marked by sheer stoic cliffs.

She waited for some time, making sure that she had the landscape fixed firmly within her mind before turning to leave.

"Why have you trespassed here, half-blood of the elder gods."

Korsha froze. The voice seemed to erupt from the air all around her. The hairs on the back of her neck were stiff. Her horns throbbed, sensing the power of the god. She turned to face her questioner.

"Forgive me, great one." She said and winced as the chain circlet stabbed into her forehead. A small reminder to whom she owed her loyalty to, "I'm trying to find my way."

"Where is your guide?" This voice called out from the island and Korsha saw another figure standing next to the god.

She squinted. Relief flooded her as she saw the familiar blue skin an elongated's skull of the intal species. The intal were a species that lived in the outer edges of the Imperial Interior. Her brow furrowed as she realized she was staring at another Dominion citizen. He wore a flowing robe of animal pelts that seemed alive. Their heads turned towards her as paws readjusted themselves upon the man’s body. There was no chain circlet. Horror dawned on her as she realized this was a shaman. Her heart jackhammered in her chest as her mind now raced for an escape. Shamans and binders didn't mix. Partly due to the fact that shamanism was strictly forbidden within the Dominion. Shamans were powerful, able to commune with the spirits without the oversight of the Dominion.

"I'm alone. I mean you no harm, I'm just trying to find my way."

The god leaned forward, his skeletal face looming above her. His flaming eyes darkened and she could feel his gaze piercing through her as he examined her soul.

"What is that upon your brow?"

Korsha's entire body stiffened. Her chain circlet was one of the ways that she was distinguished as a binder and not a rogue shaman. No shaman would ever wear a chain circlet. She licked her lips, her mind racing.

"This is my ancestral crest." She said, her tongue dancing in her mouth trying to keep up with the lie her mind was still forming, "it was a gift from my great-grandmother. It's imbued with the power of my ancestors and lends me their wisdom."

"Call upon these ancestors. I would have words with them. I would have them testify on your behalf and beg forgiveness for your trespass."

Korsha cursed, he’d just called her bluff. There were no ancestral spirits of hers here. Her family was claimed by the Imperial Goddess, and had been taken away upon their death to her bosom. She thought about trying to summon a familial spirit and pour memories of her brother into it but such a thing could be seen as heresy. Ancestral spirits were a hotly debated topic within the Dominion, their existence could mean that the Imperial Goddess did not have control over her faithful after they died. She would be left to the judgment of the chain circlet. If it deemed her actions as heresy then it would inflict a devastating wound and would reveal her.

"That's no crest!” The shaman's shouted words pulled her from her racing thoughts. His hand was jabbing the air between them, "That's a chain circlet."

"Have you come here to force our submission?" The god's voice hummed in the air, low and heavy, like the rains of a distant hurricane. "You dare to file the sacred place?"

Korsha lifted her hands in a placating gesture. A column of lava burst into the air causing her to flinch. Then another. She summoned her moths, allowing them time to manifest.

"No, I'm just trying to save my master."

There was another column of lava. She heard a string of words that she couldn't comprehend. Her head snapped up towards the shaman who was making wild gestures with his outstretched hands. They came together and a purple cloud appeared. It shot out, slithering through the air like a snake. It was headed right for her. At the same time the god jumped into the air. There was another pillar of lava. She tethered herself to one, shot into the air. Below her the moths burst into existence and scattered.

Tethering herself into the nearest moth, Korsha sent the image of her master's face into them. The sudden shift in motion yanked her to the side. She slammed into the side of an island. She winced as she reflexively tightened her grasp upon the tether. Below her the island she’d been standing on tilted to the side as the god’s presence pressed down upon it. She landed on another island, sprinted along shouting at the moth to move. She prepared to jump as she reached the edge of the island. The ground beneath her shifted, jutting up into the air. She stumbled.

The world rolled and then she was dragged along. She slammed into something hard, the impact sent her sprawling and she lost her grip on the tether. She opened her eyes just in time to see the purple smoke headed straight for her. Groaning, she jumped to her feet and activated the chain circlet. It pierced her scalp, drawing its tithe. The air around her erupted in a wave of power that radiated out until it formed a sphere around her. The smoke shattered upon the barrier. She saw leech-like things squirming as they were pressed against the edges of the goddess’s presence. Their tiny mouths snapping open and closed as they searched for her flesh. The shaman had flung a curse at her.

Rock shattered nearby, and then the ground cracked beneath her. She turned in time to see the primal god skulked forward, his six arms carrying him toward her. There was a furious hunger there. Like a starved spider who’d spotted a fly. There was no telling what the god would do to her should he get his hands upon her spirit.

She hesitated, searching for an escape but the cursed miasma had formed a swirling whirlpool around her. She watched the approaching god. She could time use the momentum of his attack to escape, though she’d have to be precise if she didn’t want the curse to dig its way into her. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she saw the shaman hovering in the air off to her left. Her heart dropped. If she went to the air he just hit her with another curse.

She was trapped.