Ado had seen executions. She wasn’t supposed to have, such things weren’t the place for a woman, but she’d always been fascinated by all things forbidden, and so she’d snuck her way into watching more than one. They were gory affairs, as might have been expected, and she’d secretly prided herself on having that fraction more exposure to the darker side of ruling than any of her brothers would have thought.

It had, she saw now, been an illusion. She had not inured herself to cruelty or death, nor had she grown world-weary or prepared for the cruelty of man. The fate of her father taught her that lesson well enough to never be forgotten.

The caster’s creations, those long, flexing spears of meat, stabbed clean into him. One struck the centre of his chest, the other his throat. In moments their work began. Her father’s body seemed to…Fall in on itself, as if its insides were suddenly gone, and all that was left was skin and soft meat. Ado watched the caster’s tendrils withdraw as rapidly as they had shot forth, and stared in silent horror as they began to caress his cloak.

She saw it all happen so slowly, so precisely. Tissues, grey and stringy, wrapped and compressed, made dense, compact, carefully stitched into the mercurial fabric of the garb. Skin came next, stark against the pink and beige colours woven around it. Her father’s skin, dark as coal and writhing until it shaped his very face into the material. Then came the groaning. The moaning, the low, humming exhalations of an unspeakable agony. It joined with all the others, just as her father joined with the cloak. The latest contribution to a chorus of human torture.

Folami keeled over, his vomit sliding out in a volume which might have been impressive, were it not so pungently grotesque. His skin was greyed and ashen with sick by the time he finally stopped, sluggishly rising to his feet, staring at the caster- more particularly at his garb- with a horror Ado could only imagine was no less visible across her own features.

“You.” The caster said, turning to Ado.

Her mind sort of spasmed, at that. Thoughts scattered as thoroughly as if they’d been bashed from her skull with a warhammer.

It was all she could do not to piss herself then and there, holding as steady as was possible upon her trembling knees and forcing out the most dignified response she could muster.

“...Me.” Ado nodded. “Yes, what…What would you ask of me?”

She hesitated, considering the use of some honorific, then realising she hadn’t the faintest idea which- if any- would be preferred. Instead she just tried to keep her tone as non-combative as possible. That, always, was the trick to dealing with men. They wouldn’t accept a threat, but they wouldn’t so readily see one in a woman either.

This one didn’t have that usual, disinterested look to him though. He seemed to focus on her no less intently than any other, and without any of the typical scorn Ado would see. No more than he held for everyone else present, at least. It was like being watched by an undead, or a bloodhound.

“I do not ask.” The caster told her. “I give voice to the way things will be, and then watch to see if the world requires any correction before conforming.”

It was quite a typical sentiment, Ado found, for a magus. Certainly for one of his power- though her family hadn’t managed to find any history of education or even activity for this one. Nor any bearing a resemblance to him. Ado hadn’t either, and she’d taken her own investigation a step further by looking into any other magi who didn’t resemble him throughout history, all too aware that a Fleshcrafter might choose to simply make a new name and face for himself as any other, more invasive transformations.

None of those had fit either, however.

“I understand.” Ado nodded, earnestly. She knew nothing about this man- if he was even a man at all. She was not her father or brothers, Ado had never been gifted with the Vigour. Her own body burned with true magic, inherited from her mother. And it was this that let her see the caster for what he was.

A volcano. A hurricane, a falling star. Something larger than a man, as if his body were merely some shadow cast on a wall. Cast short, by something far, far larger whose form she could only glimpse between mountaintops from the corner of her eye.

For all she knew, it was some Pagan god standing before her merely wearing the skin of a man. However much the grotesque approximation of human form she saw now could even be called a man’s skin, anyway.

If her fear and wondering caught his notice, he made no mention.

“You will become the ruler of this kingdom.” He told her.

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Ado paused at that, taking a second to let his words sink in, not quite believing them.

“I…Beg your pardon?” She asked.

“I said you will become the ruler of this kingdom, you will answer to me and I shall rule it through you. Or do you dislike this state of affairs?”

“No!” Ado hurriedly replied, finding her eyes glancing back down to the caster’s cloak, where she found the face of the last person to convey such a sentiment. “No, I do not, I…Thank you, sir.”

“Good.” The caster nodded, then turned. “Follow me.”

Ado paused, risking a single glance towards her brothers. Tears were most of what she saw, staining cheeks and running live rivers as so many eyes fell helplessly upon the barbaric garb that had become their father. Some, though, landed on her. Pleading, judging, demanding. Ado forced herself to look away, following the caster sheepishly.

Her throat was tight as they stepped beyond the confines of the old King’s shelter.

Fadaka was a proud nation, near as old as Arbite and the crowning jewel of a vast kingdom. It covered more than an entire horizon in buildings, many small and squat, but numerous others towering and proud. It broke Ado’s heart to see the state of them now.

The caster’s monsters had proven a terror in battle, great mountains of death which moved like vipers despite their size. Ballista bolts had glanced from their armour plates like nothing, trebuchet stones had shattered to pieces and barely even irked them. Even Rochtai, the court magus, had proven too little.

Rochtai, who’d supported Ado’s mother when she pushed to act out her own people’s customs and train her daughter in magic. Rochtai, who’d never so much as flinched at the thought of his student being a girl. Rochtai, who’d always laughed at her genius and told her she was the greatest talent he’d seen since Walriq the windmage or Arion Falls.

She saw Rochtai, now. A crippled thing, body sluglike and smooth, limbs dysfunctional and useless. He writhed around on the ground with everything about him ruined and deformed, save his face. Clearly he recognised her, for he made so great an effort to avoid Ado’s gaze that it could only have been borne from the deepest of shames. She avoided his likewise, as much from disgust and squeamishness as pity.

“You are disturbed by my work.” The caster observed, eying it all with an apathetic stare.

His work was ruin. Buildings crushed, streets shattered, towers toppled and outer walls left crumbled ruins. A horde of giants might have trampled through the city for weeks on end and not done such damage. There was no battle, Ado thought. Only a slaughter. It hardened her thoughts against the groaning mass of misery and regret her father had become. He had been a fucking fool to ever try standing against such monstrous power.

“Why did you have to do this?” She asked, surprising herself with the question. Surprising herself more with the lack of fear. She turned to see the caster eying her, as if she were some ant he had found demanding answers of him in his food.

“Who are you to ask me such things?” He replied, predictably. Ado still wasn’t afraid. Why was that?

The answer was obvious, he was simply too big a thing to fear. She might as well worry about the prospect of being struck by lightning or swallowed up by the ground as his rage, such a thing was beyond the scope of petty human survival instincts.

“I’m someone you’ve decided to put in charge of a ruined city.” Ado answered. “And if I’m to rule, I would know what the motives are behind my doing so. Does this place lie destroyed because you want it to, for example, or was there some other goal in the deed.”

He did not seem angry, that was something. Though Ado imagined that, had he actually been irked by her words, the first indication she’d have received was being killed. Killed, or…Changed. She suppressed the shudder that birthed just as the caster spoke.

“Very well then. I destroyed much of this Kingdom because I ordered that it surrender without question, and was questioned. This ruin will serve as incentive for the next I encounter to more carefully heed any warnings I feel inclined to offer them.”

Ado considered that. It wasn’t such a surprising thing to learn, certainly she could see the logic in it. In stark terms, at least, perceived from far away and held to a slight scale.

So long as she kept herself from considering the simple humanity of it all.

“What are your plans for us?”

This time, the caster did look annoyed. Slightly.

“To improve your petty excuse for a civilisation, and absorb it into House Shaiagrazni. In the long term. In the short term I intend to continue my research, I have learned much from this world already, and begun to master your magics for myself. But only begun. I suspect that, with time, I will find ever more means of empowerment from among you.”

“Like divine magic?” Ado dared to ask. “You mentioned learning to use that yourself, is…Is that true?”

She’d have laughed at the idea a month ago. Even an hour ago, really, but laying eyes upon this creature had made the implausible and inconceivable suddenly seem horribly likely. If God could wield the heavens for His ends, then why not the Devil? And if the Devil had ever appeared as any creature in all the world, it was surely this one.

“It is true. I will not be explaining more than that, however, it is not my custom to hand knowledge out to those outside my own Household. Impress me, earn my favour, and I may see fit to gift you with it.”

Ado looked back out to the city, where one of the roaming abominations was starting to coil and sleep in the midst of an amphitheatre. Its body was so great in size as to almost fill the arena and reach the seating areas, despite there being easily space enough for a thousand.

She wasn’t sure whether the knowledge of such a creature’s creation was something she had any business or want in learning.

“He’s still conscious, you know.”

Ado turned, instantly, to see the caster speaking to her once more, though not looking her way.

“Your father I mean.” He continued, casual as ever. “I was very particular about keeping the minds of all those trapped in my coat, ensuring they remain intact and capable of pain.”

Her mouth was dry and acidic with sick at once. Ado barely choked out her reply.

“...Why are you telling me this?” She croaked.

That, at last, had the caster glancing towards her.

“To motivate you into a high quality of service.”