Crow was growing accustomed to the groaning of his body, and he doubted it was a good thing. Sat back across a bench in the centre of Udrebam’s great park, he’d found some measure of peace in the isolation. Even as his surroundings poisoned it.

The greenery had been killed, blackened and choked by the noxious refuse of the air, or else simply withered to the grave by sheer heat. Grass had been churned into mud, cobbled walkways crushed to pulp, ancient trees split and impaled by debris.

He could have chosen few places to more clearly show the ruin that had befallen Udrebam. A fitting backdrop for his thoughts.

Near enough to half an hour passed as Crow sat, his hands tying themselves together with nervous fidgeting as he turned events over and around. Searching for some miracle he’d not spotted before. None came, of course. He’d known since Galad’s disappearance that Mirandis was no land for miracles.

Rajah hadn’t beaten him, but Crow hadn’t beaten Rajah either. And he didn’t need Unity to point out how unlikely the Sieve was to give away such an artefact as the Eclipse’s Nectar when they had an excuse not to.

He’d failed. Survived the Sieve only to leave no better equipped than he’d entered. Crow had only one hope left of even approximating the aid he’d searched for.

And so he sat, and waited for it to approach him.

Sorafin arrived after another hour, long past the point where cold had begun to seep deeper than skin, numbing extremities and sharpening wits. Crow turned to him as he neared, but didn’t stand. He knew his acceptance into the Jaxif Faction was a done deal, and somehow he could spare no energy to leap and grovel after all that had happened.

“Tempora.” Greeted the organiser, eying him with a peculiar expression. Crow didn’t care enough to think much of it. Didn’t care enough for much of anything else, for that matter. He was simply tired.

“I accept.” He said. “Assuming your offer’s still on, I accept it. Take me to the Jaxif Faction and tutor me.”

He might have spoken to a statue for all the expression Sorafin showed.

“May I ask what brought on this sudden certainty?”

“No.” Crow shot back, a touch annoyed. “Just hurry up and say where I need to be to get taken off, I’m cold enough already.”

The organiser hummed, pausing for a moment- a frustrating moment- before continuing as if Crow had said nothing at all.

“The Eclipse’s Nectar, I assume?”

Crow felt his guts fall out at the relic’s mention.

“Yes, I thought so.” Continued Sorafin. “There was no other explanation for your rampant credit-hoarding. You were planning on taking it for yourself, I imagine, based on the monomania with which you regard power.”

“Stop it.” Crow cut in. “You’re very clever, but I’ve spent the last month speaking daily with Unity Eden. I’m long past being impressed with cleverness.”

Sorafin smiled at that.

“You’ve changed.” He observed. “More robust, I think. Harder to shake. That’s very good. But it’s not what I came here to check, my presence beside you now is to make sure that you did, in fact, mean to devour the Eclipse’s Nectar yourself. Is that the case?”

Crow suddenly felt a trap hanging over him, racking his brains to uncover it. He should have saved himself the trouble, there would be no seeing through a man like Sorafin.

“It is.” He finally relinquished. Again Sorafin nodded slowly.

“Then I would give you a warning about it. The Eclipse’s Nectar is not to be toyed with. It’s what is coloquially known as a limit breaker. A half dozen men and a score of women have drunk relics like it over the years, all are dead now. The weakest of them- or rather, least talented- perished in mere moments. The most magically gifted survived near a full day before burning from within and succumbing. What does this tell you?”

A test, Crow realised. It irritated him to know. He’d had quite enough of being tested.

“That I have a chance.” He snapped. “If magical talent has an impact on how well it kills a person, then there might be a point where it will leave them alive.”

To his surprise, Sorafin actually smiled at that.

“I might have known that would be your takeaway.”

He gave no more information than that, and suddenly Crow’s impatience burned through into anger.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re actually here? Or was it just to entertain me with stories about a relic I’ll never even touch?”

His outburst hardened Sorafin’s eyes, drawing speech from him in a long, prickly tone.

“The Sieve is in disarray. Lesifarz- one of my fellow organisers- died doing battle with an Immortal. Balogun, another, has fled the city. Unison Mylif is quite busy attending to his brother, among other things. Lavastro Kaiosyni is wounded and in recovery. The only one currently attending to what remains of the ruined, broken contest we were all given wardship over… is me.”

Crow felt hope spark in him, hating the embers even as they swelled into flame. Listening with an irresistible intensity.

“I have decided that both finalists of the Sieve receive half the winning prize of their task.” He finished. “And, in the light of what has befallen the city, that such a reward should be doubled so as to compensate them for their trauma and pains.”

His face was blank as he fell silent, leaving Crow free and undistracted to turn the numbers over in his head. He couldn’t help but grin as the final balance glowed like hot iron.

“I’ve won it.” He whispered, almost too scared to give his conclusion a voice. Sorafin nodded.

“You’ve won it.” The organiser confirmed. “Consider it a gift. To the newest member of the Jaxif Faction. But it comes with a warning; take the Nectar, sell it, keep it, mount it on a mantlepiece. But don’t drink it. Your talent is beyond remarkable, but not unlimited.”

Crow’s stomach turned uneasily at that, but he was past caring. Sorafin could have told him he’d be joining the butchery, that the Nectar was a dakaran’s blood, and it would scarcely have dulled his mood.

“When do we leave?” He said at last.

“An hour, you’ll be sent for when it’s time.” Answered Sorafin. It wiped the smile from Crow’s face. “We can delay, if you’d like.” The Jyptian added.

He considered the offer before slowly shaking his head.

“No.” Crow said at last. “I think an hour is fine enough.”

Waiting would be a danger. Time might well change his mind, and Crow couldn’t afford to let any opportunity for power slip him by. No matter his emotions. No matter Astra’s.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He watched as Sorafin left, mind still ensnared by a thousand worries. Heavier, yet lighter all the same. Crow leaned back on his bench, staring up at the greying sky.

I’ll be coming for you soon, Galad. He breathed. Whether it takes me weeks, months. Years. You’ll be safe again. I’ll fix our family.

Somehow, though, the hopes seemed less tangible to him. Astra would be making little progress for a while.

***

Chaths waited for Ajoke to come, too weary to meet the girl halfway. Too weary even to smile as she neared. His face felt heavier, entire body weighted to match. Soul worst of all. Just standing was a test.

How he tired of fucking tests.

The Írìsi reached him at last with hollow eyes and a dead face, greeting him wordless and emotionless. He couldn’t blame her, he supposed. Finding out one was doomed to die would surely knock the wind out of any sails.

“Rajah is dead.” He said, dully. Ajoke was able to muster surprise even in her lifeless state. She had that on him, he supposed.

“How?” The girl asked, fearful suddenly. The Lady Balogun hadn’t bothered to leave her men behind to defend a condemned heir, or even to guard her. The bitch.

“I don’t care.” Rajah answered. “He’s dead, that’s all that matters. Rajah is fucking dead, I’m fucking alone and the one fucking task he gave me to do is un-fucking-finished. So I’m withdrawing from the Sieve, you win. Congratulations.”

It took a few moments for Ajoke to comprehend what he said. Understandably, perhaps, Rajah’s bitterness had surprised even him. When his words finally sunk in, however, shock and confusion seemed stronger than relief on the girl’s face.

“How?” She whispered.

“I asked the organiser- Sorafin- and he said yes, told me to tell you he considered it a favour. Frankly I don’t much care, the point is it’s done. You get to live.”

And that was it. He’d saved her with but a few words. Just as he’d wanted to from the beginning. But her joy brought him none to mirror it. Her relief failed to even blunt his aimless rage, the knowledge that what he’d done was right didn’t even register in the pit at his core.

Rajah was as dead as ever. It seemed wrong, almost, that anyone could weep tears of happiness in such a world.

“Thank you.” Ajoke gasped, embracing Chaths like never before. He was too drained to return the gesture, arms remaining still, eyes remaining front. It took a few moments before she noticed, breaking contact and stepping back to study him. Concerned.

“I’m sorry about Rajah.” She whispered, but Chaths barely even heard. Merely murmured one answer or another and continued his bottomless thoughts.

It didn’t take long for her to turn away, leaving him alone in his misery with an awkward bid goodbye. Chaths leaned against a wall, sliding down and giving his body chance to rest at last. But his mind felt no better for it. His heart ached no lighter, his eyes stung no shallower.

His mentor was no warmer in the grave.

***

“You understand there’ll be a guard attached to you for quite a while, after this.” Unison began, shiftily eying the room as he spoke. Seeming almost fearful that attack might come from behind the very walls.

“Right.” Unity answered, distracted. “Can’t have the Eden child get assassinated, not when everybody’s so desperate to get his support and show it off to the public.”

Unison’s voice was blunt.

“Intelligence isn’t just saying subtext outloud, Unity.”

He snorted at that.

“Fair enough, then let me show off more properly. Lae Sumi is going to begin making moves to circumscribe my influence and draw me further from the public eye. Leaf Phoria will either do nothing to counter it, or actively aid her. Any further assistance we find within the Alliance will come from the Princes or below.”

That brought a focus to Unison, his crimson eyes narrowing, brow furrowed. Semi-remarkable brain grinding away between his ears.

“Why?” He asked at last. Unity had his answer prepared already.

“I’ve been publicly associated with Gemini Menza, and less publicly interacting with her for no small stretch of time. Sumi’s always been a paranoid one, she’ll not want to run the risk of further empowering the potential ally of a Menza. Phoria will decide it’s not worth the risk of opposing her, and possibly look to earn some good will between Xion and Zoric by helping.”

“You’re…Guessing.” Unison said at last. Unity shrugged.

“In the same way you’re guessing that your chair can hold the weight you’re putting on it.”

“Are you really that certain?”

“Goddess, no. I’m far too clever to be certain of things. But I’ve decided what I think is the most likely eventuality, and that was it. Acting on anything else would be self-defeating.”

For a few moments his words hung in the air alone. Then Unison broke the silence again, voice low and almost suspicious.

“You’re different.” He observed. “And I’m trying to figure out why. But I can’t. Just tell me.”

Unity smiled, considering, just for a moment, playing coy. But Unison was too serious by far for him to go through with it.

“I love you.” He said to his brother, almost giggling at the look of abject surprise on his face. Almost, but not quite. Different indeed.

***

“You were attacked without me.” Lichos observed, taking his seat in the corner as he studied his charge. Lavastro Kaiosyni was a mess, even after treatment. The city’s situation apparently too much for even her to receive mystic healing so quickly.

She seemed undaunted by her wounds, though. That was something he could respect. The woman bore them like a Wrathman.

“The Gemini wasn’t.” She answered, eying him with an unreadable intensity. His surprise, expectedly, did not escape her. “I’ve ears enough to the ground that the details of your bout reached me. You did well.”

His ruined ribs and bruised limbs seemed to ache a little deeper at that.

“Wasn’t me who saved her in the end.” He grunted. Not meeting the mystic’s eye. “And she almost died while I was busy failing.”

“You did save her.” Kaiosyni answered, voice far harder than before. “And I’ll hear no argument about the fact. Had you not been by her side, Gilasev Menza would have arrived to find his daughter mangled and dead. And even the Ancestors couldn’t say what he might have done at that.”

A tremble ran through her, real, visceral fear. Lichos didn’t miss it, though he wondered if it might have been better for him had he done so.

“What happens now?” He asked, eager to keep the conversation moving, if only for his mind to latch onto something beside his cracked body. She thought about it a good while.

“You could go back to Wrath.” Kaiosyni suggested. “Your task is done, for sure, and I see no reason to keep you in this city.”

He felt a weight move from him, grinning and nodding.

“That sounds good.” Lichos answered, hastily. “That definitely sounds good.”

But Kaiosyni was not finished.

“And yet I could still use a bodyguard.” She noted. His heart fell. “Or many, for that matter. And I fear the Spadai will be in dire use before long. There are more things you could do, should you be willing.”

It took him a second to realise the offer was just that. Not demand, nor order. It confused him all the more.

“Why would you want me as a bodyguard?” He asked. “I’ve spent the last month butting heads with you.”

Kaiosyni smiled lightly at that.

“That is why I want you. I’ve recently had my perspective tested on… a number of things. And though my views on the Taikan Empire as a whole remain unshaken, I find myself wondering if perhaps any single person can hope to rule well when there is no balance to their mind. You, I think, do a good job of balancing mine.”

He wasn’t certain what to say, but knew that saying nothing would be worse.

“Thank you.” He managed. It lit Kaiosyni’s face up in a grin.

“Oh don’t thank me.” She countered. “You’ve not seen what the damned job is truly like yet. Though… I can promise you will find no more threats on my part.”

Lichos could think of nothing to say, and so he simply eyed her while her mouth worked in silence. Eyes low, face suddenly bereft its smile.

“I’m sorry about that, too.” She told him.

“It’s fine.” Lichos lied. “There was a line, I stepped over it. Lesson learned.”

Something about Kaiosyni speaking to him in such a way, even apologising, was more than he could take. He’d spent years learning to keep within the rules, seeing them broken from the other side shook him.

The two of them were silent for some time, words failing. But, finally, Lichos realised that she was awaiting an answer.

“You said you’d need lots of bodyguards.” He tried, cautiously. “Where else do you think you’ll find them?”

Kaiosyni’s response was almost awkward.

“Why, from Wrath.”