Nightmares often plague the mind of the fearful. Even in times of rest one does not become exempt from the tortures of imagination. Amalgamations of thought given visual form into grotesque constructs, the offering of a life one may never reach, or sometimes just a memory you wished never to recall. And somehow, despite the terrible alternatives, it's the reminder of moments long since passed that haunt you so greatly.

Throughout his slumber, his years of tormented youth didn’t come close to crossing his mind. Hours spent hidden behind furniture and running from others would rarely bother him. The moments in which you disappoint another, betray their expectations and let down their hopes. Those are the moments that inflict deep pain on the long open wounds that stared at him endlessly.

They played on repeat, each time warping and shifting, soon no longer holding a semblance of his true recollection. The crestfallen faces and tears of frustration become accusatory indictments of Kir’s lacking capacity. Every repeat perverted each memory beyond recognition. It didn’t take long to become utterly unbearable. Kir, unaware of his presence within a dream yet still begging to be released. He slammed against the barriers of his mind, keeping him trapped within. Time passed slowly. Yet the moment he lost hope of ever being released, he bolted awake, sweating buckets.

Kir searched around the room and slumped back in a sigh as the familiar bookcase and desk graced his vision.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake”

The sudden voice snapped open Kirs eyes again as he found a familiar figure walking in from the kitchen. Though initially Kir maintained his guard, as he shifted he felt the constriction of bandages and sutures along his wounds. The main one slung around his shoulder that bore the brunt of Duke's acidic magic. But there were far more around his chest, guarding the wounds from his final attack.

“What are you doing here?” Kir asked, wincing at the pain as he adjusted to a more comfortable position.

Damien, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt looked down at his hands.

“Eating” In one hand a steaming cup of noodles and the other a fork holding a swirl of said noodles.

Neither spoke, Damien waited a moment seemingly for a positive reaction.

“How did you get in?” Kir questioned, unable to seem to find a spot that didn’t hurt exquisitely.

Damien gestured over to the front door. A door that now held countless cracks in it, as if having been obliterated and then somehow magically reformed. A magic that Kir inscribed in the case of a home invasion, though there was a significant time delay, it was a runic flaw that he would apparently soon have to rectify.

“Well I heard that breaking” Damien said, gesturing again to the door “and found you half dead at your doorstep, I pity anyone nearby when that spell went off”.

Kir smiled at the idea. The spell scroll he had used wasn’t poorly produced, but in his haste he must have damaged the conduction inhibitors, it explained why he was outside of his apartment and somehow destroyed the door. He liked the idea of posthumously injuring Duke as he escaped, though of course Kir was still alive. He was alive. His eyes widened as a thought crossed his mind and began frantically searching for his phone.

“How long was I out?” He asked, whipping his bag from across the room into his hand.

"About a day, you arrived yesterday afternoon”

Kir’s phone read 3:00 pm as he searched through his sparse contact list and dialed the most recently acquired number. It took a few long rings until someone spoke from the other end.

“Kir you’re alive?” a soft voice began to speak.

“What do you mean? Of course I am” Kir answered, slightly offended.

“I left with Lyra and Mi, Lyra said you were probably dead”. Eryssa’s voice held a tone of relief to it, she didn’t know Kir that well but saving her from Ashbright Passage certainly did something to endear him towards her.

“Where’s Lyra right now?” desperation in his voice.

“She was insistent we come to a house in the Gallows district, she’s been looking after your friend since we got here”

Kir sighed, resting his head back in relief.

“And you went with them?”

“Well I need somewhere to stay, they know where I've being living”

Kir made a noise of affirmation but his mind was elsewhere.

“Is Lyra there? Can I talk to her?”

“Yeah just a second”

The sound of shuffling and some muffled voices occupied the next few seconds until another voice came on.

“She’s alive, barely” Clearly understanding Kir’s intention, Lyra chose to cut right to the chase.

A choice that proved fruitful as the rising tension in Kir’s mind was soon to reach its apex. Kir didn’t know any of them very well, but was endlessly grateful that Lyra was as Mi made her out to be. She could have just as easily returned to Hallowvale without any regard to his request. Lyra continued on after staying silent for a few seconds, likely moving out of Andrews earshot.

“I’ve halted the diminishing of her life force for the moment but” she sighed heavily “I need a sample of the raw pulvis used to make the Dust she took, or else I won’t be able maintain her state, much less wake her”

Kir remained silent, no longer nervous, but focused. His brow furrowed as his mind began to race. Alchemy was the vocation he knew the least about, but from what he understood one often needed a similar alchemical base to provide anything with anti-curse properties. Much like an anti-venom. The issue was, he didn’t know who provided Amber with the Pixie Dust. There were any number of dealers around different Shards but finding the suppliers would be a challenge.

“Would you happen to know where I could find any alchemists who pump this stuff out?”

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“My family doesn’t deal in narcotics and dad makes a point of not doing business with drug lords...but” she paused, ostensibly contemplating whether or not to continue “from what I’ve heard someone's been uniting the suppliers in the city under one banner, so if you just head up the ladder, you’ll probably find some success”. There was a wavering in her voice as she lowered her volume, almost whispering, the kind of whisper you do when you say something you probably shouldn’t know .

Kir cared incredibly little what people did in their spare time, what Lyra did even less. But uniting lower level criminals under one name. Why did that sound familiar? Either there were two rising stars in the Violet Shade underbelly or Sable was looking to corner the market. If that was the case at least Kir knew who he was looking for, though he really had no idea where to look. The Otter’s Nap was a dead end, Duke would be on high alert now and would likely melt Kir into a puddle if he took a step into Ashbright. Not to mention asking politely seemed not to work with this certain individual. If his second in command was that strong one can only imagine what Sable was like.

“There is something else but, I can’t imagine it's very useful” Lyra tacked on.

“I’d be happy for anything at this point”

“While I was being moved around at Ashbright I saw some formulas for a piece of Arcano-tech circuitry. I’ll send them through if you like but the arcano-smith milling around here can’t make heads or tails of it”

A few moments passed and a picture of some paper came through. It seemed to be a crude recreation of formulas and diagrams that Kir similarly couldn’t decipher.

“Thanks, I’ll see if I can find someone. In the meantime. Duke knows your location, I’m hoping you might not be worth it to him but after what probably happened when I escaped, I find that unlikely” Kir couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry about us, I’m moving your friend and Eryssa to a family safehouse, I’m going so they may as well come along”.

“Thanks Lyra, I really appreciate you doing this”

Lyra sighed

“Just returning the favour” She abruptly hung up the phone letting Kir rest back into his many uncomfortable positions.

“Where are you off to now?” mumbled Damien through a mouthful of noodles.

He sat on Kir’s desk chair as if this interaction was the most natural thing in the world. Kir opened his mouth and closed it a few times. On one hand this was technically another home invasion and a vampire was eating his cup noodles. On the other hand the man saved his life with no obvious ulterior motive and bandaged him up, rather well too. The option of obliterating him or at the very least throwing him out would be a considerable dick move towards the man who showed him such altruism.

“I have to go find an arcano-smith to decipher something”

Damien looked off to the side for a moment and swallowed his mouthful of stolen noodles before offering a suggestion.

“You could always try the academy, some pretty smart fellows there”

The thought had crossed his mind. Despite his mixed feelings about the Council of Celestial Magi their academy professors were extremely capable. As to whether they would be willing to help an unregistered outsider, that remained to be seen. Kir let out a groan.

“Do I have to? I’ve successfully avoided Diddleslaps or whatever they call that school so far. Are they even that good?”

“From what I’ve heard they’re some of the most powerful casters in the country.”

Kir threw a mock tantrum and made another groan before going to stand up.

“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” Damien warned now standing over Kir.

He paused mid motion, as if confused at the question.

“To..the academy?”

“You’ve stymied me long enough but I’m not letting my valuable effort be for nothing.” Damien pushed Kir’s shoulder down against the couch with a supernatural strength.

“I appreciate the help and all but I’m dealing with a bit of a ticking clock situation, my wounds aren’t that bad, I’ll be fine” Kir attempted to push against Damien, still reticent to use magic against his saviour.

“If I didn’t find you, you would have died in a manner of minutes, now lay back”

Kir was determined but not that determined. The enchantments in his apartment were numbing his pain a great deal but if he was that close to death, why be obstinate? Kir acquiesced and lay back down, allowing Damien to move back to the chair and continue with his purloined noodles.

“What's got you in such a rush anyway? I thought you didn’t go outside”.

“I tried not to, I really did but... some bad stuff happened” Kir paused “I just, I want it to all go back to normal”

Damien nodded, a clear understanding plastered on his face.

“But it never can, can it?” A rhetorical question from nowhere.

Kir stared at the ground, his brow furrowed and his thoughts muddled. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, angling his head slightly up.

“My friend, a crowned, she got her hands on something, something she never should’ve even been in the vicinity of. I don’t know how but she did, and now she's dying.”

Damien remained unmoving, knowing even the slightest interruption was a bad choice.

“You know” Kir met Damiens eyes “she always protected me, since we were kids in that shitty little hamlet. It didn’t matter the threat, she always stood in front and faced it head on”.

Kir looked down to his hands.

“And how do I repay her? I lie to her, everyday. When we were kids I thought it was fun, I was part of a secret world that only the special were welcome in”

Disgust oozed from the term special.

“She protects me and because of my deceit, the first time she comes into contact with my world it almost kills her”

He became increasingly incensed but stopped as his movement began to irritate his wounds. Sensing it was his turn to speak Damien went to get a word in.

“It’s not your fault”

“Isn’t it?!” Kir snapped back, not intending to be so confrontational.

“No, and don’t act all mopey and carry the guilt. I thought wizards were meant to be clever. You didn’t have a direct hand in what happened to your friend right? And you think completely shattering someone’s worldview is worth the honesty is it? Any rational person wouldn’t call you guilty and you’re not doing anyone favours by hating yourself. Certainly not the person who’s actually at fault.”

Kir was taken aback for a second. The irritation in Damien’s words was by some stretch unwarranted to an acquaintance, but with a perception that often eluded Kir, he could tell that this was part of his own baggage.

“Don’t worry I’ve got enough hate to go around.” The two went silent.

It was odd, they had only met once and yet they bickered like friends at each other's throats. Damien became aware of his outburst after the fact, he had stood from his chair and could feel the bloodlust that loomed behind any of his kind’s powerful emotion. He sat back down and shook his head.

“Sorry, I haven’t fed in a while”

Kir eyes widened slightly and he put his hand to his neck.

“You didn’t…”

Damien grimaced

“God no, wizard blood tastes like ash”

“Oh” Kir nodded, feigning understanding.

The change in topic lightened the atmosphere, though they both knew it was a fleeting moment.

“If you like I can ask around, see if my kin know anything”

Kir raised an eyebrow.

“Why, why are you doing so much for me?”

Damien’s face turned cold.

“Because I know what it's like to be worried for family” He stayed silent for a few seconds before letting loose a grin

“Plus it never hurts to have a wizard owe you a favour”

The two discussed the logistics of Kir’s commute and the Sable situation for about an hour until Kir laid his head down to rest in preparation.