VI.

Liara

Cedric Castelbre stood in the hallway that led deeper into their underground church. His face was shaven and covered in intricate ink designs, his eyes were black beads without life or energy. They seemed to light up when he saw Faunia approaching him.

He stepped back slightly, but she reached a hand to his face and smudged some of the ink away.

"Vleren." he noted.

"Cedric, what are you doing here? You were in Dreslon…?"

"I was. But there were more pressing matters." He turned to the men behind her. "Oelat, Azafel still neglects to acknowledge me. But he does at least hear me."

"Oh?" mused the fat man.

"I felt his chamber. And I heard my voice echo."

Rithi smiled, "Perhaps he is sleeping."

Cedric shrugged. "I've wasted enough time here. I know he recognizes my presence—we broke the Ring of Fate."

Oelat nodded in agreement. Rithi made a face as though he was thinking.

Faunia looked between them all in dismay. "Cedric, what about Kylinstrom?"

"The Hunters have it under control. Or the Sylvet—"

"Nothing is under control over there." she hissed. "Dreslon is gone."

His calm face immediately turned harsh. "Gone?"

"Kogar—one of the Twelve, he… he exterminated the ogres like rats. He crushed the town entirely, they lit the sky with burning leylines and the smoke of their homes. They're going to murder all of the people we've ever known."

"Why didn't you stay?" He grit his teeth.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do there? Me and Tirolith are supposed to kill all of The Twelve, protect an entire continent? What about you, Great Red One?" She shoved him in frustration.

Cedric grabbed her wrist and yanked her further down the hallway, away from the other two. "You're blaming me?"

He had begun to approach as she backpedaled and summoned Tirolith's freezing rapier to her hand.

"I protected Dreslon once. I protected the whole damn world once, in Freiya. All you did was run away like a frightened animal, to retreat to the safest corner of the new world."

"And what did you do? You're holed up in here, talking to your damn imaginary friend!"

She stepped back into a chamber that wasn't very large, with an intricate circle drawn out on the ground—some kind of leyline diagram. No, she realized: they were the same symbols as were inlaid upon the medallion she'd been given.

Cedric's knuckles sprung forth claws as he darted at her.

Fshwing!

Her rapier came up to catch the claws. Etherian magic churned between them.

His offhand claw pulled back and swung at her side.

One blow from Serkukan would be fatal—Tirolith covered her side in a wall of ice, which the claw slammed through and became stuck. The tips grazed her skin. Blood dripped out, mingled with the oozing water.

Then she kicked hard into his calf. His leg buckled slightly.

"I remember… your broken legs!"

She swung for another kick.

Blink!

Cedric was behind her, swept her other leg out from beneath her. She fell to the ground.

"Weak." he muttered as he raised his claw again.

Teal-plated Tirolith rushed from out of thin air to grapple Cedric's wrists in her hands. She locked eyes with him, pleaded: "Cedric, please! Stop this!"

He recoiled back and shook himself free of her grasp.

"Remember—Cedric, remember what we went through to get to Harth!"

"You abandoned me, Tirolith. Neither of you are worth calling allies."

"That's not what happened—"

He gripped his head suddenly. A memory was worming its way in…

"Stop that, wyrm." Serkukan growled through the boy's voice.

X

Liara stood in a busy Calamoni market. Her glazed eyes minded the passing goods with disinterest.

She had never been allowed to Calamon alone—not for a long time. It had always been her master with her, or Rykaedi before that... Never did she think that she'd be allowed here unabated, unshackled by anybody's whims but her own. She hoped once that it would have brought a smile to her face. It hadn't.

A memory struck her. The memory of her master, the true Liara, before all had gone awry. She remembered that feeling of horror while it happened, that feeling of all joy being entirely eradicated from her life. She latched on as tightly as she could to that thought, but soon felt it fade into the oblivion that was her mind. She was empty once again. Empty as always.

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Liara. Do you yet weep? Not once did I see you shed a tear—never do I think I will.

"Hey, hey!" cried one of the market vendors, in Calish tongue. He waved his hand at a sign which she couldn't read. "You buying something?"

She blinked. Then she felt it—the ripple of an Etherian leyline. Two Etherian leylines, ripping against each other like jagged blades. She could feel the sparks of their lives. The hellish fight for survival. Neither of them were trying to kill the other, but then... where was the aggression rooted?

She locked her eyes upon that invisible spot where a line of twice-ley should have been, felt the line twang like a guitar string, all the way through the ground into a hollow basement somewhere. And just like that, she fell into the ground as though it were water...

X

Cedric heaved out and held in his bile as he fought back his own memory, one of traveling the desert, Faunia and Tirolith in tow, a red dragon, a man in black robes... His breathing had become raspy. Drool rolled down his lip and onto his chin, mingling with the sweat. Just for a second, he was back to himself. One more second before—

BANG!

“Hsss!” he sharply inhaled.

Her rapier had landed squarely in his gut. She pushed it all the way through until the hilt pressed against his torso. Just like that, their short dance of fire and ice was concluded; that momentary lapse in his consciousness gave more than enough room for Faunia to rebalance herself and end it.

His blood dripped down onto the sigil beneath them.

Akvum’s words rushed her mind: leave not the span of a breath in which your opponent may recover.

But then—her adrenaline began to falter. She saw that his eyes had fallen low, and his mouth hung open. He shouldn’t have died from such a stab, not so hastily… and the noise, that sound like a sharp explosion…?

She looked to her rapier. The blade had exploded in his gut. It was stuck, no matter how hard she pulled.

“What the—”

BOOM!

The ground beneath her blasted upward and launched her to the ceiling. A set of spikes formed out from the stones above.

“TIROLITH!” was all she could scream as she flew.

A sheet of curved ice formed around her like a ramp and slid her out of the path. The rising slab of stone continued and slammed through it all, smashing the ceiling to bits.

Then Faunia hit the wall and slid straight down to the floor. She looked to Cedric who hadn’t been hit by the attack, but had been dropped to a knee by the falling stones.

Shhn, shnn, shnn…

The grinding of stone caught her attention. She looked to the opposite wall, where a staircase was now sliding out from a rectangular doorway that had sprung open.

A figure began to enter.

“Who the fuck are you?” Faunia panted. She clutched her aching side—hopefully the impact hadn't broken a rib.

It was a woman in a ponytail wearing a muted grey-brown leather kit. Her voice showed not even feigned interest: “You’re faster than I thought, Tirolith. Those centuries away did you some favors. Crush.”

The walls began to rumble. The woman left through her makeshift entryway and resealed it in stone behind herself.

No—I can’t clear that distance in time!

She looked to Cedric, still pulling desperately at the blade lodged within him. Had the falling stones disoriented him?

He needs more blood! Serkukan, hear me!

Faunia bit down into the fat of her hand as hard as she could. Then she ripped her head back and tore. Blood spattered out.

Tirolith, the pain!

And the pain became dulled.

“SERKUKAN! PULL!” She presented her bloody hand.

Cedric looked to her. His mouth shut and he tensed up.

Blink!

CRKKUHNNCH!

The room collapsed in the same instant that they appeared in the reception hall once again. Oelat was gone.

Faunia checked her hand. The wound was sealed. Looking up, Cedric was pale and panting. The rapier had left his body, but left a gaping hole as well.

She placed her hand over his wound and Tirolith resealed it in a heartbeat. The scar tissue appeared and vanished into new flesh, perfect flesh.

“Let’s go.” Faunia stood.

Rithi appeared in the northern doorway with his mask covering his face again; “We’ve got an intruder. West wing, past the gallery.”

“As if we know the layout.” Faunia scoffed, “Lead the way.”

“Very well. Cedric?”

Cedric was still breathing heavy against the doorway, but shook his head. “I’m fine. Let’s get a move on.”

Thelani was maze-like. The maroon walls each blended into the next and the last in a way that was disorienting and chaotic.

"That's the point—" Rithi elaborated as they ran, after Faunia had brought up the complexity of the layout, "—Azafel longs for chaos and disorder. We hire moondust-junkies to create Thelani structures."

Faunia's glaring eyes shifted over to Cedric. "...And these are the people you prefer over Hunters?"

Cedric didn't answer, but instead, threw himself as hard as he could against the door to the gallery. The three of them shuffled in with their weapons drawn, their faces etched hard with preparedness.

Paintings lined the long walls to their sides, paintings of figures in all sorts of colored armors, shaped like all sorts of dragons and monsters. Paintings of their deities, of those same Sylvet deities that Faunia was so sworn against. Each painting was illuminated by a brightly glowing bulb of magical light, filling the room with an otherworldly white light.

Cedric tilted his head to glance the paintings on either side of the door; a white-suited figure with rounded wings minded once side, named Zanthiel. The other side held a black daemon with its own jagged wings, labeled as Azatos.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that you’ve survived.” said the rumbling ceiling. The stone began to ripple like water as the same figure of a woman dropped down across the hall like a droplet, blocking the path where the gallery opened up into a massive, multi-floored space.

“Then I'm guessing you have a better plan as for how to kill us?” asked Faunia as she braced her weapon tighter in her hand.

Rithi muttered, “I can’t sense anything from her…” He put his palms together, pulled them apart to manifest a long rondel dagger.

Cedric was silent. His eyes were steady on her, watching for any move at all. When the attack came... it might be too quick to avoid.

“Kill you?" Her voice sounded like she might laugh, though her face was only ambivalent. "I’m only here to learn if you’re the one my master is looking for."

“You’re one of The Twelve.” Faunia scowled. "Did Kasian send you? Or... Kogar?"

The Etherian actually smirked slightly at that. "No."

Cedric spoke up, “You’re searching for Serkukan, right? Did Rykaedi send you?”

Her smirk grew into a full smile, though her eyes were still vacant. "How did you fare against Ivalié's pawn?"

“It was an easily managed hiccup.”

“I'm happy for you. If you'd have died to that, I'd have said you certainly weren't the one.”

"You make it sound like none of the Twelve want to kill us."

The girl shook her head. "Only Kogar really wants to. But nobody is sent for his tasks. They only act on his behalf in gentle placations."

Faunia grit her teeth. "Then quit wasting time. If you're not here to kill us, what do you want?"

The girl smiled slightly. “I want you to kill me.”