It took less than a minute for the guard to send their message then return. Then, in even less time than that, Neia stood in the hallowed halls of a much too well guarded manor of an affluent human lord. She stood, as sitting would be lowering her defenses in a situation where she knew some wrongs have been done.

For all that she was ignorant of the maneuverings of the human government, she knew her own position well. For all that government and order was a necessity in the lives of people, there was a law that superseded that—Levels. There hadn’t been a singular human who had come close to her level, giving her free reign to Identify any and all who came across her path.

Even Jeremiah Blight, Lord of Felispar, the highest human to be found within this city comparable in size to her own, paled in comparison.

Ruven stood alongside her, his height an advantage for intimidation and his ability a boon—just like it always was—to this upcoming volatile conversation.

“Where is Lee Barnes? I was told he was meant to greet our arrival, but was postponed because of urgent news. News which originated from you.” She started, tone flat and unamused.

The lord, joined at the side by what must be his son going by their resemblance, appeared surprised by their sudden visit, but not guilty. “He left late last night. I assume he would be back in his hospital by now.”

“Lie.” Ruven bluntly stated, his silver eyes boring a hole through the lord's forehead. “Do you know where he is?”

Jeremiah swallowed, the first nervous tick he’d allowed to pass through whatever facade he’d created. “No, I don’t kn—”

“Lie. Lie to me again, and there will be no more discussions to be had. This is your final warning.” The oppressive tense atmosphere suffusing this small office room could have broken a lesser man—and did judging by the pale faced, terror filled visage of Jeremy Blight shuddering to the side.

Ruven took a step forward, causing the guards lining the room to shift and tighten their grips on their weapons, none suited for such an enclosed space, just like his bow. “Your title of lord holds no weight to us. You are a nobody in the laws of the world. Normally, I am a jovial man. A hunter of monsters, aiming to defend those I love and have sworn to protect. But, we are all given aims. Abilities. Mine has me put into situations I am not wanted, but it has never failed. Truth and lies are an everyday occurrence. Little white lies and large ruinous ones flutter past me everyday, I despise lies.”

“So, I ask you again, with the threat of violence. Where is Lee Barnes?” He finished, and Neia couldn’t have been prouder.

Neia didn’t like humans. It was something she has learned over the past two months, but like all peoples of the world, each one was different from the last. Lee Barnes was the first human she’d ever met, and he has set a baseline about what she was to expect. All of the others have fallen flat.

Before the lord could answer Ruven’s question, the clanking of metallic footsteps echoed from outside the room. Too light to be of the Arachne, Em, so most likely another guard. After a knock and a slight pause, the door to the office they were in swung open on its hinges, revealing the same messenger guard from before. With a quiet metal clank of a salute, he spoke. “Another Dark Elf has… requested an audience.”

Neia blinked owlishly, mind uncomprehending. A trap? A ruse? Looking to Ruven, who had a similar look to her own, set those worries aside.

“This office wasn’t meant for so many visitors. Let us continue this conversation in the courtyard.” Jeremiah stood, causing the scuffing of wood on wood to groan outwards in the silenced oppressive room. He sped past them both, leaving the room with his paled son in tow, giving Neia and Ruven little chance to stop the change in location.

The guards moved alongside them, as if they could stop any ensuing violence with their presence. A shame that outside in said courtyard stood Lee’s Arachne friend, a walking fortress of metal which could probably take on this household by her lonesome.

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Once they left the manor and bobbed down the stone stairs, said Arachne came into view. Her armor gleamed in the light of day, causing Neia to narrow her eyes to avoid the glare. Through squinted eyes, Neia tried to make out the form beside Em. It was a Dark Elf, of that much she was sure. Female, with long slanted ears like her own and dressed in fashion not seen in...

Without warning, Ruven clasped her wrist in an iron grip. Looking over, his eyes were wide with disbelief. Through their touch, she could feel his minute shaking. Whoever this was spooked him. A feat not many could accomplish.

Em scuttled forward, blocking her view of their lone companion as she spoke with vicious cheer. “Neia! Ruven! One of your friends came through the portal!”

The portal? Neia thought. She’d seen the wide abyssal portal in the temple adjoined to the hospital, a marvel of the gods themselves.

A husky voice from times past blasted through the courtyard, seizing Neia’s heart with an iron grip. “I can introduce myself, young spider.”

“No…” She whispered as Ruven’s hold tightened, anchoring her in place.

Strolling casually past the armored menace came a figure Neia hadn’t seen in nearly two hundred and eighty years. Dressed in a long billowing blue robe, parted in the middle to reveal long blackened leather pants and a form fitting leather top, stood what had to be an imposter.

The woman's sparkling and glowing blue eyes took in Neia from head to toe, looking only slightly surprised by her appearance. They slid past her and onto Jeremiah, the Lord. With a flourishing bow and cheeky grin, she introduced herself. “Nilthallia Sindris, a pleasure.”

Neia tried to sprint forward into her long lost mother’s arms, but Ruven’s grip rooted her in place. He whispered so faintly that only she could hear. “Lie.”

“Now! Tell me what you did to Mr. Barnes and I will make your death swift!” Nilthallia grinned, her mouth spreading far too wide to be natural, her tone and manner of speech unrecognizable from the one from the past.

At once, the guards drew their weapons, creating a ringing cacophonous drone of steel. Then, with a flick of her fake mother’s wrist, bulging writhing masses of twisted muscled flesh rocketed out of her fingertips, slamming and pulverizing the men and women in their cages of metal armor.

In a span of three seconds, all the guards were gone. They were dead.

The writhing and coiling strands of flesh whipped back like a coiled spring, becoming reabsorbed into the monster that wore her mother’s skin.

Jeremiah stood as still as a stone, pale faced and resigned. His son, Jeremy, a former companion of Lee if she was correct, was now an unrecognizable crumpled mass of gore—not three paces away from where his father stood. All that was recognisable in that mound of blood and bone was a hand which clasped a sword.

The monster before them, one that wore her mother’s skin and the one Neia failed to identify, strolled forward leisurely. She—It ignored the screams of terror from the household staff and those who witnessed the flash of carnage from the streets.

Neia and Ruven hadn’t moved a muscle, nor could they. If they moved, they would die. It was an old feeling, one long forgotten after years and years of gathering experience, both life and system.

The monster strolled up the cobbled path, ignoring the pooling blood from the corpse that careened downhill and onto her feet. Behind her, Em stood still as could be. Her former excitement dashed and replaced with a wary and narrowed red-eyed glare.

“Tell me where he is and what you’ve done, and I give you my word that your death will be painless. I swear by the gods themselves.” The monster spoke calmly as if she was speaking to a child.

Jeremiah shook like a leaf. His knees barely able to keep him upright as the monster stared unblinkingly into his eyes. It came forward and gentle ran a hand down his cheek. “You have three seconds.” It whispered sweetly.

As if broken by a spell, Jeremiah stuttered. “I—Dendros has him. We—I captured him in an anti-magic cell, then drugged the air to knock him unconscious. I sent him to Dendros in hopes to avoid my people being massacred in the battle to come.”

Those glowing blue eyes of her mother panned toward Ruven, still having not blinked once. “Truth?”

“Truth.” He answered tersely, teeth clenched.

At the confirmation, right out of the monster’s neck, a spike of flesh tipped with a gnarled tooth speared the human lord through the forehead, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. With the deed done, the monster wiped her hands with loud claps and turned to face her. “Hello, my child.”

Her skin or not, this was not her mother. “You are not Nilthallia.”

With a wry expected smile, the monster shrugged. “Your father said the same thing.” She looked around the massacred courtyard. “You might not believe it, but I am here as a friend. I have been tasked with finding and retrieving Mr. Barnes. A quest of god.”

With a right state of mind, Neia should have probably asked about the details about that, but instead she asked the questions on the forefront of her mind. “What are you? Who are you?”

The monster's grin faded, face turning blank. “I am a person, and my name is Mimi.”