“Madam Ouranos, there is no need for that,” Fiona stepped forward to take the vicious gaze of this old monster off the vital heart of their strange Ascension Pact. She forced a smile onto her face, even though her lips felt like lead. Even now, she felt almost like she was dreaming, traveling and striving like this. Like she had when she was younger. “We’ve just finished a long journey. Why don’t we have a harmonious meal first and then consider the weighty proposition of a fortune.”

The gaunt thing swiveled her head to look at Fiona. As figures who had passed each other quite often in the past, there was quite a bit of animosity between the two of them. Not the least because Ouranos didn’t dare try and look at Fiona’s fortune, due to the seductive power of her image. For the fortune teller, Fiona was her natural enemy.

Yet even while she moved to defend him, Fiona wondered about her three companions. If nothing else, allowing them to have their fortunes read would perhaps give her some more information. The process of being swept up into the Ascension Pact happened so quickly. And the long journeys through the rings gave Fiona time to consider.

Wasn’t this too perfect a setup for her revenge against Duulys?

“No, it simply must be now.” Ouranos remained firm. The entire building began to vibrate with her presence. A ring thick with her queasy energy began to tighten around this place, ready to force the issue. “Such a talented young man… well, if he is going to walk toward his death, isn’t it my duty to protect him?”

“What do you mean, protect him?” The brash Xershi stepped forward, his fists clenched. Fiona clicked her tongue, but gratefully let the smile slide from her face. Even now, she hated herself for defaulting so naturally to that expression, it was easier to recede into the background, even though waiting there were echos of her uncle.

You should smile more.

“You all are judging my works, I can tell. Hah, it is so difficult to have my kind intentions be so misunderstood…” Ouranos swayed her entire gloomy body. A long arm limply rose, stretching so that it could reach five meters across to the wall and brush against one of the hanging tapestries. “I do them all a favor. I check their future; if they are fated to soon die, isn’t it better to be woven into immortality, here in my home? They have each other and me for company- it would be a waste to let them die. I am generously offering to do the same with the precious

What Ouranos didn’t say was that she used Nether to try and trap the individuals into a deadly fate. Rather than having your fortune read, it was this creepy puppet woman chasing you through a metaphysical labyrinth. If she caught you before the candles at the table burned out, you would become a tapestry. However, if it was the Ghosthound-

Suspicion curdled in Fiona’s gut. If he survives, the chances that our group can actually overcome Duulys become at least possible. But if he survives… how can such a useful tool just present itself to me? After so many years of misery?

“Alright, let’s do it.” Randidly stepped forward, right on cue. His gaze was quiet and intense. “But let’s make it quick. I have business higher in the Sonara.”

Ouranos cackled. “Ha! I love your enthusiasm. Now, I just hope that fate has similar beliefs in store for you. Do not worry, the process will only take a few minutes… only as long as it takes for this candle to burn down…”

As the group begrudgingly followed the Ghosthound to the table, the woman’s jaw stretched down, almost unhinging itself from her face. Fiona felt a profound distaste for everything this monster did but kept it to herself. At this point, she was almost becoming excited to see the Ghosthound tested. A part of her wished he would fail, a subtle betrayal down the line unmasked early.

Fiona’s hands began to tremble, so she hid them under the table.

A pale and withered tongue unspooled itself from Ouranos’s dark maw, stretching the meter from her jaw to the candle. The dry tongue hung limp and swung for a second before the end twisted itself up and snapped, creating a spark. They sat and waited as the tongue rolled itself back up. The jaw clicked back into place.

Ouranos leaned forward. Her spine creaked like the prow of an old fishing boat. “Then let’s begin. Peer into the flame, child. Let your mind float freely. I will read your fate in the shadows that dance across your face.”

Just like that, the process began. Thin tendrils of her image seeped through the doorframe and windows, spinning themselves around to surround the table like a slimy cocoon. The Ghosthound’s eyes went unfocused as that image dominated the space. The flame of the candle rapidly grew, morphing from a mundane flame to a grey and purple fireball. Wax dripped down the side of the candle at a visible speed. The two central characters were both frozen, locked in a strange connection.

Fiona’s trembling grew worse. And so what if these fools are just one more dagger in my back? I’m strong enough to handle it. I’m strong enough to kill them all.

The other two sat in silence, simply observing. After about two minutes of waiting, Xershi twisted in his seat. “Are we really just going to sit here while this happened? Randidly would make a shitty rug.”

“Shush,” Pullas elbowed him. Her eyes flicked from Madam Ouranos to the Ghosthound. “Don’t be rude. They are in the middle of some sort of spiritual communion at the moment. Even the slightest bit of extraneous noise might distract them and cause vast subconscious damage-”

“Then why are you talking so much?” Xershi grouched. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

The two fell silent, waiting to see if either of the individuals involved in the fortune-telling responded to their discussion. Both were so locked in whatever transpired between them that the silence continued to dominate. Fiona began gripping the table leg in front of her, just to give her hands some activity. Her face twitched, but she had no idea what sort of expression to make. For some reason, she couldn’t decide how she wanted this to end.

She could feel Nether moving between them, but little else.

Her ability to sense the presence of Nether was a blunt instrument, mostly created to warn her of threats than discern the exact nature of the Nether. By the time Fiona had been sent by her family to the Frontlines, the tools in the Nether toolbox had diminished to just physical violence and image destruction. So those were what she had trained to subdue.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

However, she could make out blurry threads of Nether, traveling between their bodies and the candle flames. While Ouranos unleashed a score of wiggling veins to fuel her reading, the Ghosthound only had a single thread.

The wax continued to melt, the flame steadily growing in size as time went on. The lines of Nether swayed, their minds drifting across the tip of the fire.

Fiona tried not to let the relative number of threads make her worried. Was she even worried? Should she be? Through the tattoo on her shoulder, she felt a connection to the Ghosthound, or more accurately to one of his images. Not that the black hole had very many discernable emotions, but if she had to define it… it was bored by the proceeding.

“Almost done, I guess,” Xershi piped up as the candle neared the bottom. A pool of yellowed wax spread out from its base on the wooden table, drying into a dirty puddle.

Then the flame flicked out.

A weakling or a disappointment?

Fiona held her breath until Randidly Ghosthound reached up and cracked his neck. He pushed himself up from the table. “I’ll be outside. We should be able to spend some time here on this ring before proceeding to the next; this being’s image will be really helpful for me. I have some… ideas I need to investigate.”

Just like that, he turned and walked toward the door on the far wall. Fiona was bewildered. After feeling her insides twisted into knots by what might be revealed by this confrontation, to have absolutely nothing clarified-

But before Fiona could marshal her thoughts into cohesive thoughts, a whining voice squeaked out from Madam Ouranos’s lips. “Please…”

Her tone had changed completely. Fiona looked on with wide eyes. This cruel old thing begged, her body locked in place. “I… please… don’t leave me… like this…”

The Ghosthound didn’t pause in his gait or acknowledge her. Along the walls, the tapestries began to unravel. Moans and screams filled the room as the fabric came unwound and bodies collapsed onto the ground. Most passed out immediately, but others began to wretch and vomit. Pullas and Xershi hurried over to investigate these suddenly liberated.

Yet Fiona found herself following after the Ghosthound. A thousand thoughts swirled around in her head.

Really, she wasn’t positive why she had joined the group. She had been driven half-mad with rage and bitterness by that point, lingering on the lower floors and avoiding the attention of her former husband. Yet the truth was that she couldn’t set aside those emotions and just leave the Sonara. Her family and their expectations were dead and gone, yet she remained bound here by a lie that no one spoke of any longer. She toyed with the taboos of those passing through, never daring to try and break out of the cycle she had become entrenched in. She clung and dwelled.

Then a surprising and intriguing group made her wonder, why the hell not? And weirdly, the weight of the moment they swore an Ascension Pact had produced an unexpected promise of something impossible: that she would forgive Duulys.

Traveling with them for this last week was mostly a burden, but oddly cathartic. They fought freely and with no reservations. She had to admit that she appreciated the feeling of having their support, when that old slug Yuroach had brought up memories she wished would stay forgotten. But at the very least, none of them cared who she was, aside from who she currently was, climbing with them.

She felt freer now than she had in four hundred years. Which would put her a hair below depressed, in her mind. But extremely capable, a valuable component.

Perhaps the comparable age between herself and Ouranos is why she couldn’t let that abrupt conclusion go. But perhaps those last few long journeys across the floors had allowed the newness to fade and the bitterness she had lived with for so long to seep back into her heart.

Outside the home was a scenic view of the valley below. The Ghosthound had moved off onto a stone outcropping of stone and produced his spear. His body flowed cleanly between a variety of stances, yet his movements were slow. Staring at him for a few seconds, Fiona could see this was about patterns; he kept repeating variations of the same patterns with his spearhead.

Soon, she could remain silent no longer. The thoughts bounced around her and built up pressure until they exploded out of her mouth. “How did you manage that?”

The Ghosthound paused briefly, registering her presence. His movements soon restarted while he replied. “What do you mean?”

“That old monster’s fortune-telling facade aside, she’s quite capable. Her image is insidious and she’s one of the few individuals I know that managed to condense something similar to a Nether Core-” Fiona paused as the Ghosthound chuckled. “-what, is that not true? And you seem to have turned her ability back on itself. It’s… just a surprise. Who the hell are you, really?”

“Does it make any difference?” The Ghosthound’s movements sped up a bit. The air rustled, dragged along with his movements; it seemed as though he neared the patterns he was searching for. However, he paused before he found that perfect shape. He set the butt of his spear against the ground and turned to look at her. “That being did not possess a true Nether Core. As far as I can tell, she relies on the size of this ring to fake its presence; she allows a lot of time to pass, then uses her image to compress all the significance into her body and hold it there. By repeating the process every few years, she fakes having a Nether Core. For someone with a true Nether Core, it’s easy-”

The Ghosthound tilted his head to the side. “Oh, are you really suspicious of me?”

Once he said it, Fiona acknowledge it was true. She stuck out her chin; there was no reason to deny it. “We’ve been proceeding extremely smoothly up through the floors. Almost too easily. I had thought you would be a useful companion to have in the fight against my ex-husband, but what if you are a trap to lure me out of hiding?”

“The same ex-husband you said you would try to forgive?” The Ghosthound’s expression was serious.

Fiona hid her embarrassment with her most dazzling smile. Her cheeks ached to hold the expression. “That was something said in the heat of the moment, swept up in your peculiar Nether Ritual. We will see how the actual meeting goes, once I’ve destroyed his image and flayed the skin from his body.”

Randidly Ghosthound looked at her for a long time. So long the smile fell off her face. Part of the intensity in his gaze did remind Fiona of that uncle she so resented, but the main thrust of it was entirely different. She started to feel oddly vulnerable as he examined her.

“Trust is hard,” He eventually said. He reached up and rubbed at his head. “Honestly, I’m probably not a great individual to talk about this; my track record with friends isn’t great. But… we don’t need friendship for this Ascension Pact. We speak very little of our own truths so everything we say is entirely honest, right?”

“After the first betrayal takes you by surprise, you never forget you were just as sure nothing was about to happen then as you are now. Probably more so, before your innocence was destroyed.” Fiona freely admitted.

Randidly nodded slowly. “We will listen if you ever want to talk about it. For now… I’ll just say this. Feel how solid the tattoos have become. These were woven out of our promises and some lingering energy in the Sonara. So… just know that the solid result you produced against Yuroach was woven from what we’ve shared.”

It wasn’t enough. It was obvious he felt awkward in conversations like this and that only made her tenser. Fiona felt her insides tearing themselves to pieces with worry. Yet her pride made her turn away and walk back toward the house.

“Wait.”

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

“Do you really want to know how I did it? Overcame her Nether?” Randidly said. He raised his spear and drew an elaborate S in the air. Weirdly, the wind seemed to become more excited, spinning around his weapon.

Fiona nodded.