Universe Ten; Nireavat; Alusia.

Gabriel was lost. Undeniably so. All around him trees towered into the sky, vines hanging from their branches, and all of them annoyingly unfamiliar.

''Just where in Nether's presence am I?'' he muttered, staring at the cottage sitting snugly at the foot of the hill. That was not meant to be there. At least it was not meant to be at the foot of the hill to Neca springs. And he had taken the right turns, no matter how much his brain and the unfamiliar trees told him otherwise.

Gabriel sat down to think. He didn't reach the spring today so he was probably going to die next tomorrow when the demon returns. Though truth be told, he was probably going to die either way since he didn't want to perform the ritual. Even though, Neca springs would have given him a fighting chance.

The irate boy bit at the insides of his bottom lip and sucked in his cheeks at the same time. He would have to perform the ritual. He couldn't have used Arint for the ritual because, well, Arint was sort of his best friend. His only friend at the moment if he was honest. But here, far from the city and any form of civilization whatsoever...

He glanced down at the cottage. From his position, he could just make out the form of a little girl running around within the small flower garden before the little house.

... Accidents could happen couldn't they? And even better, he wouldn't be - couldn't be - overly sympathetic toward a stranger.

His brows furrowed in thought, the ten-year-old quietly contemplated murder as he descended the hill.

By the time Gabriel reached the cottage, he'd already gotten his act together. A few feet from the house's pristine picket fence, he began to work up some sweat. Not hard really, considering he had just descended a hill. It was the next part that he wasn't all too happy about.

Digging into the earth, he shoveled out handfuls of dirt and applied it liberally over his face and hair. By the time he was done, he ended up looking like an abandoned stray. Next, he stood up, stretched, and then ran full-tilt toward the gate. Best scenario, it would be open and he would barrel in like he planned to. Knowing his luck though, it probably wasn't.

This would hurt, he thought just before he slammed into the gate head-first with a loud bang and fell to the ground in pain.

It just had to be locked, didn't it? He thought as he lay on the grass with his eyes closed, trying not to whimper and cradle his neck. After a while he heard someone scrabble up the gate from the other side. Then there was a gasp.

"Oh, Lola! It's a boy!" A little voice called out. "I think he fainted. And he looks all dirty and poor and lost."

Mhm, mhm, Gabriel thought. I'm a lost, poor boy. Bring me in before your mother comes out.

"What should we do? I don't think we should bring him in."

Oh for the love of...

Gabriel heard no reply to the girl's question but after a moment she said: "Why? Well, who knows? He may be a razatche, a nefarious necromancer, or just a straight-up murderer. He may also be a ritualist. Never discount the ritualists."

Well, you're not exactly wrong... Gabriel thought guiltily.

"... I've been reading too many novels haven't I?" She said after a slight pause during which Gabriel figured the second person had probably been speaking. "But Aunt Maggie said I shouldn't let strangers in... Oh well."

Gabriel heard her scrabble down the gate, slide back what sounded like six or so bolts, and swing it open. He felt her footfalls as she walked up to him and squatted, the hem of her clothes brushing against his cheek. The girl gave a low hum of surprise. "He's got a mask on, Lola and it looks kinda nice too. It's covering only about half his face but it'll have to do as payment I guess. Mum always said to never be unnecessarily generous after all."

Gabriel cracked open his eyelid a bit and was able to make out the girl's hand inching toward his face.

Oh, Nether.

Her fingers grasped the mask around the edges and she pulled. Pain flared briefly around Gabriel's face as she did so, abating only slightly when she stopped. She made another surprised hum.

"It didn't come off," she said and then proceeded to yank at the mask with all she had. Gabriel grit his teeth, dug his nails into the soft dirt and kept from crying out. He needed to keep up his facade if he ever wanted to get inside and find an opportunity to use her for the ritual.

O mother of - krjbdjsjdndjjdudud hiwkajsj!

The girl pulled and pulled only to end up falling on her back when her grip slipped. She stood up, huffing.

"Let's get him inside for now, Lola, and I'd have a go at that mask later. May be bound in place by magic. Aunt Maggie would have been able to get it off in no time. Typical she's not in. Where are adults when you need them?" She complained.

Gabriel was barely aware when she held him by the legs and began to drag him through the gates. The pain had degraded to a more manageable ache but it was still uncomfortable and Gabriel could feel a major headache forming. The type that found you naked and cursing the gods a few minutes in.

It took quite some heaving and pulling, which, by the way, did nothing good for Gabriel's head, before the girl managed to get him into the cottage and unto a bed. By then she was panting like a hound, Gabriel's headache now promised to be a few degrees worse and he had found out a little something about his current situation. Considering that no one had come to help the girl, he could safely conclude that she was alone. Lola was likely just an imaginary friend. Probably.

More importantly though, if a little exercise had her heaving like a warhorse then she was weak. That would make killing her easier when the time came.

After she had deposited Gabriel on the bed, the girl left the room and Gabriel sagged with relief, muscles he hadn't known he'd tensed relaxing. He had thought that she'd go about trying to pry his mask - his bone - off him immediately.

Just as he was settling into the bed and the pain was fading into a dull, persistent throb, he heard her enter back into the room.

"Hello? Are you up yet?" She called.

"Granted, its only been a minute but maybe? Are you sure you're not up yet?" Gabriel resolutely continued to feign unconsciousness.

A cat meowed somewhere in the room.

"Hush Lola! Just making sure."

So Lola was a cat. Good to know.

Gabriel felt her slide a hand beneath his head, raising it slightly. Then a bowl of water met his lips. Under the girl's careful maneuvering, the liquid made its way into his mouth and down his throat. As it did so, he heard the girl cackle.

"Aunt Maggie wouldn't blame me for poisoning the water. I mean, out here, it's pretty hard to get a human corpse that is also perfectly intact to practice necromancy on."

Gabriel's eyes shot open and he pulled back sharply, spraying a mouthful of water into the girl's face point-blank.

"Ha! So you were pretending," she crowed, completely disregarding the fact that she'd just received a mouthful of water and more to the face.

"What the... Why would you poison me? Give me the antidote!"

The girl shrugged. "There's none."

"What? Really?"

The girl nodded solemnly.

"I don't believe you."

She shrugged again. "Suit yourself," she said.

Gabriel's face dropped, a look of pure despair settling over it... right until the girl burst into laughter.

"Oh, the look on your face... Oh, the look! Priceless!"

Gabriel frowned at her. "So you did not poison the water?" He asked.

"Oh no, that's complete buttertalk. Not like I need your corpse for anything. I'm a water manipulator, see?" She raised a hand and a small stream of water rose from the bowl and into the air.

"That was a bad joke."

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. You're the one who pretended to be unconscious so you could get into my house now aren't you?"

Gabriel rubbed his nose, embarrassed.

"How'd you know I was faking it?"

"Hmph! Fingers digging into dirt don't exactly go unnoticed you know," she replied. She stretched out a hand.

"Anyhow; hi! I'm Valerina Vontumavia. I'm nobility, or so I'm told."

Gabriel blinked, surprised. She was a Vontumavia? He looked down at her hand and, using a finger, shifted it to the side.

"What is it?" Valerina asked, frowning.

"I'm worried about your mental health," Gabriel confessed.

"Huh? Why?"

"You found a boy who you were sure was pretending to be unconscious just to get into your home, you're alone and you practically pulled him into your house. You don't know who he is or what he wants and now you want to make friends. I don't know about you but that sounds pretty stupid to me."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Psshh. You skipped a couple points. He looks poor and lost and is probably my age. What's the worst a ten-year-old can do? Trash the house?"

Gabriel looked from her face to her hand and back again.

No. Murder you.

Decaverse; Nireavat; Xerdes, night time.

Ellen ran swiftly up the stairs, the anguish-filled howls of the prisoner bouncing around her head. A new nightmare waiting to be dreamt about. She should have gotten a bit used to her father's 'acclimatization' regimen but her father always unrolled something worse and even more disturbing every fortnight. She wished he'd stop doing that.

Ellen reached the top of the stairs in seconds and did in her grandfather's door with a kick. The door flew open and she rushed in, almost crying - almost - and flew into her grandfather's embrace. The old man didn't speak at first, simply content to stroke Ellen's hair consolingly.

"You want to cry misha?" he eventually asked.

Ellen took a deep breath, almost breaking out into sobs. Almost.

"No," she answered. "We don't cry."

"Really now? I can remember crying when grandma passed on," Antonio said.

Ellen raised her head to glare at him.

"Well, I don't cry," she declared.

"Sure thing my little misha. Sure thing. You don't cry."

Ellen buried her face back into Antonio's robes after he answered and they let a strained silence overcome them. Antonio could feel Ellen's shoulders trembling as she fought to hold back tears.

"Want to talk about it?" Antonio asked.

Ellen groaned into his nightgown.

"I'm ten, gran. I don't need to talk about it to feel better. It doesn't work and I'd get used to it soon enough... Though I guess I can give you a gist of what happened. Y- You do wanna know right?"

"Of course misha. I want to know."

Ellen drew another deep breath.

"The prisoner was female," she began. "She was on the death row for - hmm, I can't quite remember now." Her fists tightened, grasping folds of Antonio's gown in balled fists. "Warden Cnefo flayed her. He peeled off her skin first. 'Slowly, slowly,' he said. 'So we can see the muscles clearly.' She screamed. Non-stop. He boxed her nose in and scraped her cheeks, exposing her teeth to the stale dungeon air. It was... Well, I guess horrible is too quaint a word. After that, Cnefo popped her head. Like a watermelon. Or a grape. Or an overripe mango. And father had me watch."

She said the last sentence in a quiet little whisper. Antonio's gnarled fingers were busy, working locks of silver hair out of tight, complex tangles and laying them straight against her head and down her back.

"You are sure you don't want to cry misha?" He asked.

Ellen sniffled.

"I don't cry," she replied quietly before digging herself out from his embrace and looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Now granddad, I've told you a story. Tell me one too!"

Antonio blinked down her then gave a resigned sigh.

"Okay," he said and Ellen buried her head back in his bosom with what Antonio was sure she'd intended to be an excited squeal but came out strained and pathetic.

"Once upon a time," Antonio began. "In the days of old when deities walked the land and the gods traveled the realms..."

"Oh come on gran. I don't want a god story right now!"

"Okay, okay. Um... Let me see... Hmm." Antonio glanced down at Ellen for a moment. "I guess I do have a new story."

"Not a god tale?"

"No. I begin. Once upon a time, in a remote realm whose name I can barely remember, lived a princess. Her beauty was far beyond mortal ken, very much unlike what anyone had ever seen. She had silver hair and..." He heard Ellen's breath hitch. "Mistifying purple eyes."

"Granddad!" Ellen whined, looking up at him. "That's just me."

"Hmm... I guess you do look like the princess."

"Oh come on granddad. I've got everything she's got. Purple eyes, silver hair, and I'm also a princess."

"But you have one thing she doesn't."

"What's that?" Ellen asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"A loving father."

"In a certain sense of the word," Ellen muttered.

"You see, this princess did not live in an imperial castle. Instead, she lived in a dark, foreboding, dangerous dungeon. The master of this dungeon was a powerful razatche able to disguise himself exceedingly well and had knowledge of everything that transpired within his unholy walls. Twisted creatures of the dark served this monster and, in a way, the princess too.

The head maid... now that was a she-demon capable of twisting even the noblest of minds to do her bidding, the prison warden was the cruelest torture master there was in the realm-"

"Just like Cnefo," Ellen snorted.

"A bit like him maybe," Antonio said.

"And, let me guess, they had the princess watch as the warden killed people three nights out of seven?"

"Oh, gods, no. They took good care of the princess but only at the behest of their master. The master, in turn, only tolerated the princess because she was very very special and he wanted her to grow so that during her twentieth birthday, when she had reached her full potential, he would sacrifice her to a demon and gain unprecedented power."

"But the princess was his daughter right?"

"Yes."

"He didn't succeed did he?"

"Aren't you jumping ahead of the story too much?"

Ellen rolled her eyes.

"I don't want to start liking the princess only for her to end up dying at the end of the story."

"Well, no, he didn't succeed. But his descendant persists till this day..."

...........................

Gabriel glared daggers at Valerina's exposed back through the haze of a pounding, malicious, frankly disturbing headache. He was going to kill her for the ritual. But first, sleep... And prayer. Just to see if the gods would be kind enough to take away his headache by tomorrow.

...........................

The gods didn't deign to answer Gabriel's prayer. Gabriel would know because the very next morning he was seriously considering going buck naked and cursing at the inattentive divinities until they heard him and answered - divine plagues, lightning strikes, and imperial dignity be damned.

The morose boy lay beneath a lovely warm quilt and watched as the sun rose, spilling its golden light into the room. He had originally planned to perform the ritual last night but gods strike him stupid if he'd had the capability to as much as think when the headache had set in fully the night before. Gabriel couldn't help but fantasize about how everything would have gone just so right if Valerina's aunt had been around.

Firstly, an adult would not have tried to pry the mask from his face after a mild attempt. Secondly... well, there was no secondly. Once safely within the house, he could have easily grown the purple weed seeds and had everyone asleep in a minute. Granted, he had initially intended the seeds for the demon but whatever works no?

It had all been set. Get in, get out. Quickly, neatly. There was no love lost between him and that plan. There was happiness until, of course, that imp of a girl came along.

Valerina bustled into the room, looking all the world like it was her birthday. A lithe white cat followed behind her, tail up and looking surly.

"Good morning," Valerina greeted, walking up to Gabriel. Gabriel groaned, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" The spritely girl asked.

"Bad. Very bad," Gabriel replied then frowned. "Why the question?"

"You're ill?" Valerina replied, taking a seat on a stool she had dragged to the bedside the night before.

Gabriel turned to her slowly, trying not to agitate his headache. "How do you know?"

Valerina rolled her eyes. "You told me so last night."

"I... did?" Gabriel asked, confused. Memories of the previous night weren't all that clear. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure when he'd drifted off to sleep.

"Yeah, you were delirious last night; and the things you told me, oh boy, they were ridiculous."

Gabriel would have frozen if only he had the spare mental faculty to do so. As it was, he squinted, trying to think through the haze of pain. There were things he didn't want anyone to know. You know - secrets and all that

"What did I say?" He asked her.

"Oh nothing much," she shrugged. "Just told me that your mask was the cause of your headache. Couldn't get anything better than that from you. Oh, is it true you've tasted razatche blood though? And it tastes like apple pie?"

Gabriel would have grimaced if he could spare the strength. So he told her that.

"No," he answered her, voice clipped.

"Huh. Figured. Would have loved if it was true though. That apart; so," she leaned toward him. "What does your mask have to do with your headache? Is it because I tried to pry it off? Oh oh, I know. It's an artifact, isn't it? Lemme guess, lemme guess. Probably an heirloom? If so, that means you're nobility... or something close anyway. Or maybe you're a prince?" She gasped. "Don't tell me! You're the prince aren't you?"

Gabriel's wince went unnoticed. He sighed and said: "It's just my bone alright?"

Valerina eyed him critically and scoffed.

"I don't believe it," she said. "So you're telling me that this," she gestured at his face. "Is just a deformity?"

"Yes," Gabriel replied dryly. "Yes, it is."

Valerina's shoulders sagged.

"That is so boring," she whined. "It would have been so much more interesting if it was some powerful family heirloom or some such."

The girl glanced down at Gabriel. His hand was over his eyes and he seemed eager to fall asleep. She facepalmed and scrambled out of her chair.

"Oh gods," she muttered as she left the room. "I forgot the tincture." She walked down the hallway and ducked into a room by her right. The room was quite spacious and contained a four-poster bed, a few pieces of overly-decorated furniture, purple rugs and velvet curtains draped over the bed posts and windows.

Valerina rummaged through a couple of drawers. It took some time but eventually, she found what she was looking for. It was a large glass vial half-filled with a viscous green liquid that frothed ominously.

Valerina pulled out a small wooden cup from one of the drawers, rinsed it quickly, poured out a measure of the liquid into the cup and carried it back to Gabriel.

Lola was curled up at the foot of the bed when Valerina returned and only spared her a glance before placing a paw over her eyes and going to sleep. It was currently still early morning and to the best of Valerina's knowledge, the white feline hadn't slept the whole night for some reason.

Valerina settled back beside the bed and, cradling the cup with her left, stretched out her right arm to rouse the boy when her eyes were drawn to the sheets. She gave a small hum of surprise and forewent rousing the boy, deciding to instead lean closer to the bed. On the sheets were a bunch of round, black seeds. If Aunt Maggie hadn't made Valerina help out in both planting the sunflowers in the garden and turning the seeds into sunflower oil, she would have thought they were sunflower seeds.

Shrugging, she swatted the seeds off the bed then roused the boy.

"Huh? What?" He muttered.

"I brought you a tincture. It'll help with your headache," Valerina said.

Gabriel opened an eye reluctantly in a way that suggested he was seriously averse to being disturbed. He eyed the cup and sat up.

"Thanks. For the thought," he said, reaching out to take the cup. Valerina pulled her hand back.

"Nah ah; not so fast. Let's make a deal. I give you the tincture and you answer my questions," she said.

Gabriel gazed at her for a moment, trying to think through the haze of pain. Ultimately, he gave up.

"Okay," he sighed. "I will."

Smiling, Valerina handed over the tincture. Gabriel gazed at the dubious concoction suspiciously. He gave it a little sniff and recoiled almost immediately.

"What is this thing? Are you sure it's medicine?" He asked.

"Of course I'm sure. It just smells bad... okay, it tastes bad too but - oh, wait a minute." She turned to the bedside drawers and pulled out a small silk satchel, Gabriel observing her curiously. "Sunflower seeds," she explained, opening up the satchel and grabbing a handful of tiny, black seeds. "Helps with the taste."

Gabriel held out the cup and she sprinkled the seeds in, dozens of the stuff bouncing off the rim and falling to the floor.

"Go ahead, try it," Valerina prodded.

Slowly, Gabriel brought his lips to the rim of the cup, trying to work up a smidge of courage. Thinking positively, he reasoned that after taking the tincture, his ailment probably wouldn't last past the afternoon. He would also be ingesting a substance of unknown origin and components which may or may not include livers, insidious herbs, newt eyes, gall bladders, human gall bl- Gabriel cut off his thoughts at that and took a long sip. The concoction felt unnaturally slippery, tended to coil about in his mouth like a snake, and smelt heavily of fish. The sunflower seeds did little to counter the extremely bitter taste that exploded within his mouth. Gabriel powered through and swallowed the concoction, grimacing as he did so.

The effect of the tincture was near-instantaneous. He could visibly feel his headache receed, becoming a dull throb at the back of his skull. He looked up at Valerina wide-eyed. The girl had a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

"What... was that?" Gabriel asked.

"I don't know," Valerina replied. "Aunt Maggie never did get around to telling me its name." She stood up and struck a pose, pointing at the door. "Now come on! To breakfast and answers for me," she said dramatically, moving toward the door. Halfway there, she turned back and said; "Oh, do get the tincture with you. The headache should return sometime in the next ten minutes," and slipped out.

Gabriel didn't follow immediately. He was thinking, trying to adjust his plan. If she was to be believed, and Gabriel couldn't see why not, his ailment would return every ten minutes. Enough time to kill her and perform the ritual if he managed a surprise attack that would take her down in one hit. The best way to go about it was to put her to sleep first.

Gabriel put his hand into his pocket, rummaged about within it, and came up empty. His heart skipped a beat. He couldn't have lost the purple weed seeds, could he?

His eyes strayed to the ground and he saw the black seeds cluttered there. Picking up one of the seeds, he coaxed it to grow, his manipulation covering the little seed in a haze of light green. The seed coat broke, a thin green stem rising from within the seed. The stem rose, feeding off the haze of green energy surrounding it as it grew. In a minute, a cluster of pollen that shone a deep purple topped the stem.

"Good," Gabriel murmured.

He tossed the plant out the window, swung his legs to the side, took up a handful of seeds, and walked out of the room.