They stood on a balcony high above Laytaihishu, looking out over a crowd of people that stretched down the gravel path and through the forest, a sea of white lights and bright things that crashed against the walls of Laytayhishu and stood still. For the first time since he’d been there, Siqxhe saw guards manning the walls.

Laytaihishu was prepared for a siege.

Railoxhe stepped up beside him, joining him as they looked down at the crowd, the seething people that threatened to consume the world in their flames. It wouldn't take much, now- not with the forest so dry, not with their anger… there were more Ilyaochi down there than Siqxhe had thought existed in the village, a mob of people who’d abandoned their work to rage against the immovable, the walls of Ididirchi’s fortress.

It was clear to him now that it hadn’t just been made as a place of beauty. It was to be the lord’s stronghold, whether it was Sagotsyao against his enemies or Ididirchi against his supposed allies… Siqxhe looked out at the mob, and disappeared…

Railoxhe took a deep breath, then stepped out into the view of the people to the sound of jeers. “This need not happen! The evidence is overwhelming. We must remember our task as children of the moon! Remember the peace!”

A single word, however, lifted itself up to the balcony, brought to them on the wind and the voices of a thousand people chanting. Traitor, traitor, traitor… fury sparked beneath Siqxhe’s eyes, a crashing wave that threatened to break itself on the walls of Laytaihishu and destroy themselves.

“How do they consider you a traitor if you were not theirs in the first place?” The voice was soft and fierce, and the crowd roared in renewed hatred as Ididirchi stepped out onto the balcony. The hatred of a people oppressed, expressed in a thousand pinpricks of light as they tried their best all approach Laytaihinshu at the same time. Then, louder: “Give us the murderer, and you will be left in peace. Refuse, and the force of my wrath will destroy you.”

A single word, however, lifted itself up from the balcony, brought to them by the wind and the voices of a thousand people chanting. Liar… liar… They would not give him up. It would not happen!

The crowd seethed forward, and this time they would not be deterred- this time, Siqxhe could almost taste their desire, their need to pull down Laytaihishu stone by stone and level the field-

An explosion.

One after another, a line of cannons fired down onto the Ilyaochi, and the thunderous advance turned into a full scale retreat against white smoke, drifting gunpowder remnants as they floated up like fire- orange illumination, the eyes of god watching the battle below.

Suddenly, silence. Siqxhe watched the carnage in horror, picking out the shattered and broken shapes of Ilyoachi, smears of blood and the cries of the dying. Ididirchi looked out over the battlefield- if it could even be called that- a certain coldness in his eyes. An anger…

Ididirchi turned around, stalking back into white stone. "Follow me, Railoxhe. We need to discuss this."

"If I may…" Siqxhe glanced over his shoulder in surprise as Laeo stepped forward. "Siqxhe and I could be of assistance in-"

"This is out of your power, foreigner." Railoxhe positively glared, laced with suspicion and anger and the horror of watching his people slaughtered by fire of Ididirchi's cannons. "Go back to your room, and let the doctor tend to Iri-"

"Wait, Railoxhe." Ididirchi's voice was calm, almost suddenly so. A disconcerting change, something that Siqxhe didn't understand. How could he be calm right now? How, so soon after the death of Soshyetay… "Let them come. They've proved themselves to be useful so far, and they can prove themselves to be useful yet again."

Ididirchi led them through the fortress, his guards trailing them from behind and before. They came to those twin doors, wood and and one wrought of scrap, glossy steel reflecting the lights of candles within the room as they opened it-

Black and orange, cloth beneath and the sky through the immense windows. They were alone beside the soldiers who closed the door beside them. Not even servants were in the room- rather it was the soldiers who dragged out a pair of tables from behind the throne, setting up an austere war-room with an ease and efficiency that showed repetition This wasn't new-

A few maps and papers were quickly strew across the table as Railoxhe went about marking notes onto papers and tacking maps down to the wood, pointedly ignoring the smoke as it rose up, occluding the windows for a brief moment before joining with the skies above. Clouds began to form against the high mountains, giving an impression of grand smoke, a confluence of ashes and the ending of existence. The eyes of god looked yet down from the sky, orange brightness that was all too obvious in their grandeur when compared to the clouds. True immensity, punching through clouds that drifted too close, a skyscape that defied comprehension.

The last tack was pressed into the table, revealing a carefully prepared circle of maps and notes and correspondence. It was confusing, but Laeo and Siqxhe greedily dug into the information, the secrets before witholden… Ididirchi only had eyes, however, for a single scrap of paper.

A list of numbers- a map of strength. “Our forces are strong. We can destroy them. Make them pay for their crimes.” Ididirchi put a finger on a map of the area, on Laytaihishu, then drew it in a short line down to the entrances. “They’ll be forced to give him up before long, and the scrap will flow.”

Railoxhe nodded, but even Siqxhe could see that wasn’t the course he wanted to take. “The people will appeal to rationality. They’ll give him up eventually without having to invoke their hatred.”

“With the violence today? Not likely.” Railoxhe and Ididirchi looked up in surprise at Laeo’s voice, and he met their gazes, quietly challenging them to tell him he was wrong. Neither did, of course- he was right, after all. As soon as the bark of the cannons had rung out over the mountains of Xhyolok, a line had been drawn, sides had been made.

The weapons of war had been turned against the warriors, and things began to fall. Slowly, Railoxhe nodded. “He’s right. Not to demean the decision to fire the cannons- we were being attacked- but with the death those guns caused we’ll be their enemy now. Still, we must persist. Peace will always triumph over conflict.” His voice was faint, though, with the knowledge that that wasn’t true. After all, the Ilyaochi themselves were subjugated, bent over by the weight of their history and the force of Sakaxhy arms.

“I will have them pay.” Ididirchi threw a paper down onto the table, pointing roughly toward a number, a simple statistic that meant so much in the eyes of everyone there. Manpower. The lord of Laytaihishu had two hundred trained soldiers Sakaxhy soldiers under his hand, while the Ilyaochi had none. The power, the concentration of force and the strength of Ididirchi. It couldn’t be denied that there was a strength that Ididirchi, and Ididirchi alone held. “They will surrender him, or die. They-”

“They will break their agreement.” All of a sudden the room felt… colder. As if something that should not have been brought up had been laid bare before Ididirchi, and now he was angry. “They will see you marching on the Ilyaochi and they will say that you have denied their words and they will turn their backs on you. They will forsake us and everything we’ve worked for.” For the first time Siqxhe saw Railoxhe as more than just an advisor to Ididirchi. He had a power of his own.

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A strength that came through clever politics- a strength born from his heritage as Ilyaochi.

For a long moment the room was silent- nothing but the crackling of flames in the hearth and the gentle whisper of breath, in and out. Ididirchi would not be denied. He had seen a friend die, and he would have him avenged.

Railoxhe grinned, leaning forward and whispering something so that only they could hear. “Iri. If you can get Iri to work, then we’ll send her out to find the killer.”

………

Siqxhe sat on a chair of dark wood, quietly observing Iri’s gentle speech, a quiet, almost serene thing. There was a distinctly unnatural quality to her voice, something that made it seem… more than human. A soft hissing, quiet- a dull tone that echoed beneath the very fabric of her existence. Perhaps it was important- he wrote down a note about it, along with all the other notes he’d written down. “Can you hear me?”

It was a traditional question, and Iri answered with the traditional response- nothing. Not silence, as it had been before time, but a quiet murmur, nonsensical. “White. Walls, barriers, things between myself and Eternity Falling, you will Not-” Siqxhe quickly reached over and her words fell back to cold but innocent speech. Mad, but free of the nightmares she’d been having.

There was a theme to them. Not to her ramblings- anything and everything could be included in those. A few words, however, were all that were included when the nightmares came. Polarity Light. Eternity Falling. He wondered if it meant something- perhaps she’d been pushed off a cliff by someone named Polarity Light, and that led to her current state now. Or perhaps it was a nightmare from childhood. If she even had a childhood. There was so much he didn’t know, and it was all just speculation. For those in the darkness, he was supposed to- “can you wake?” No response of course, but he continued unhindered- “People are dying outside. I need your help.”

Iri shifted, adding the words to her mantra. “People are dying, people are dying, darkness. The ground shatters, sound is defied. People are dying…” It was in the same cadence as the incoherent ramblings so he didn’t think it was a nightmare, but she wasn’t just repeating stuff. If the strange language wasn’t enough to prove that, he knew he’d never talked about earthquakes in front of her before. He didn’t even know if this part of the world had earthquakes…

“You’re strong… you could stop it. You could help them stop it.” He didn’t really know if he believed what he was saying. Ididirchi planned to use the eidolon as a weapon of war, and if he woke her, was he much better than the killer? Perhaps it would have been better to let her sleep, deep in those dark dreams where she couldn’t hurt anyone…

Quiet murmuring continued, a softness that repeated itself- whiteness and death, barriers. Walls and broken flowers and fields of stars, impossibilities and inane things that made no sense, things beyond the scope of imagination. “Flowers. White flowers bleeding, white stone over a sea of strength. I am not strong.” Then silence.

It took Siqxhe a second to realize that it had been a response addressed directly to him. “Can you hear me? Are you awake-”

“I am not strong… you think I am, but I’m not.” Iri pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning heavily on the wall as those bright eyes stared deep into his own, brilliant modes of incandescence that would not let him escape- “They… they scathe my mind, and I break myself. They cannot have…” Her voice trailed off and Siqxhe moved toward her, but she shook her head. “I’m fine. The Eternity Falling isn’t talking with me right now. I think… I think I’ve escaped it.” The being of steel and light, despite all its strength and imposing physique, shuddered. “They are just so powerful. Against them, I am nothing. In waking me, you give me a reprieve.”

Siqxhe sat back, smiling. He almost couldn’t believe it… finally. She was awake. “Against humans though, you would be strong.”

“Physically… maybe. My mind has been injured. I can remember so little…” The lights that were her eyes dimmed slightly, and the whole posture of her being seemed sad. A reflection of the human emotion of sadness, enunciated in her form and brought into its perfection. “They will destroy me. They might even have the capability.”

“I won’t let them.”

Iri laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that he recognised from her time sleeping. “You think you could stop them? How? They are the force of humanity, the spark of the torch that has done great things… I appreciate the assurances, though… I still hear its call. It wants me, and the secrets…”

“What-” Siqxhe paused as the door opened, looking back to see if someone was rushing in to tell them a murder had been committed or Ididirchi and Railoxhe had come to speak to Iri. Irrational thoughts, but he was tired… but it was Laeo, not one of the Sakaxhy or the Ilyaochi that stood in the doorframe, quietly marveling at the form of Iri in a position that wasn’t just… on the pallet, babbling nonsensically.

Laeo stepped into the room, bringing with him a few logs which went straight to the fire, fuel for heat and light and the quiet assurance that things were right in the world. “Iri? If I remember correctly.”

“It’s a nickname... for Polarity Iridescence.” There was a long silence between those words, a silence punctuated with a memory. Iri’s memory, one Siqxhe neither knew nor fathomed. “Arctic loved languages… he named me that.”

“This is great… we’ll be able to send her to bring back the murderer.”

Iri shook her head softly. “A murderer? You overestimate my power. I’d be hard pressed to chase down a child right now. I can hardly move.” Iri tried to stand, but she couldn’t- just like the last time, it seemed like sitting was about as far as she was able to go.

Laeo sighed, seeming relieved. “I had thought… you need more recovery time. Either way, I brought food…” He quickly ducked out into the hallway, then came back in with two platters stacked with greens and all sorts of things he hadn’t had since Nolabo. “Ididirchi had the chef make this for us, and I thought you’d want to eat it down here.”

They talked as they ate, Iri occasionally interjecting with some strange question that barely made sense in the first place, like “What is food,” or “What happened.” Eventually, the conversation moved onto darker topics, possibilities that they didn’t want to remember but had to- they were still stuck in Laytaihishu, more than they ever had been before.

More than the will of Ididirchi, now even the wrath of the world outside locked them within Ididirchi’s palace of white stone, his fortress of dreams. As they spoke about this, Iri only watched, listened. Waiting…

“Do you think the murderer’s going to try again?”

Laeo frowned and shook his head as he gnawed on some leafy greens. “I doubt it, personally- I think he’s made his one attack for the money, and now he’s going to ride the wave of his sudden fortune and try to survive. He doesn't even have the gold anymore- we took that back with us. The only thing he has is his new position in society.”

“You don’t think they’ll give him up?”

“No. I think they’ll exalt him.” Laeo chuckled, drowning the last of his water and leaving the room with that soft proclamation, leaving Siqxhe and Iri in the peace of a bright room, dark thoughts, and the sanctity of a nebulous friendship. Siqxhe gently closed the door, returning his attention to Iri. “Is there a way for me to help you recover? Do you even need to eat-”

“You… you’ve done a lot. I don’t even know if you could help me…” Iri laughed her tinkling light, which quickly transformed into a hiss of pain. “It comes- the darkness and all the force of its power, the endless… at least they can’t get to you. At least they are not that strong… no.” A silence, as Iri gripped her head in her hands and shook it, ever so slight, eyes burning like incandescent coals almost too bright to look at.

Slowly, she raised her head until she was looking almost directly at Siqxhe. Eyes bright, he felt as if she was peering deeply into him, watching- “I… they come. Their power… I’ve never felt such power- listen, Siqxhe!” It was almost a shout by then as she tried to stand, whole body trembling, facets quivering with the force of her will. Eyes burning- “I was thinking. I heard what you were saying about the murderer, and I thought about who- why. I wondered why… it doesn't make any sense. Too many things line up to be coincidence- it can’t be him. Your murderer is a lie-”

Siqxhe gapped, then rushed forward as Iri collapsed onto the pallet. “Who? Who is it! Why is it a lie- please, speak… please…” There was only, however, the gentle whispers and the sound of Iri’s rocking, a babbling string of words. White walls, dark barriers, brightness and a sudden new aspect to something far more important than a Siqxhe’s single life. White walls, brilliance, and Polarity Light-

Far above the castle, thunder shook, and rain began to pour.