Arakiel was just in time as Aurora soon fainted after having emptied out her entire stomach and honestly, it might be for the best.

He could only hope that it wouldn’t affect her later on as this… this slaughter had been a bit too much, but he had participated in it, still.

Up here on the little wooden stage where they had sat just a few hours ago, the scene before him was even more bizarre.

The surviving Shamshierum, of which Arakiel counted twelve, began to herd those who had surrendered towards the spot where Zari Amar had been tortured earlier.

The jinnum’s fire had lessened, but it still surrounded him. Rahul was right next to him and both were in the process of making their way over towards the ruling couple, seemingly unfazed by all the death around them.

Ezekiel also made his way over there. From Afar, Arakiel could tell that even he seemed shaken.

After ensuring that Aurora was truly safe, he put her onto the stage’s ground while trying not to get too much blood onto her, which was kind of impossible as he was drenched in it.

Arakiel spotted the nearby table’s blanket and with a swift motion, he pulled it off without spilling the food as the stage was probably the only remaining place which was more or less intact. He certainly couldn’t eat something right now, but he wanted to return at least some dignity to him.

He fastened the blanket around his lower body and moved over towards Zari Amar, Rahul and the others while his mind tried to disregard the scenery as best as it could.

The smell made it basically impossible, though.

In the square’s center, he noticed a thoroughly bloodied Zari Amar kneeling next to Count Eremon. He had just cut out the man’s tongue, looking at him with grim satisfaction.

Rahul, whose clothes were drenched in guts to the point of no recovery, turned Arakiel’s way. A big smile formed on his lips, creating a rather morbid contrast. “Excellent work, o divine envoys! Boundary has fallen and the accursed murderer of Jenaya lies dead at last.”

“Jenaya?” Ezekiel asked from the side as he looked over the people that had hidden in the inner perimeter. He appeared as though he was searching for someone and he grew increasingly irritated as he didn’t find the person.

“A jinnum that was murdered here thirty years ago. Lady Jenaya wanted to foster peace between the realms, partially because she desired so, partially because she thought that the people of the desert could not survive alone.” Rahul returned while Zari Amar nodded, his ability to speak having been taken.

“The venerable Lord Zari Amar has proven that the Middles’ foul and cruel nature has not changed in the slightest.” Ibun Qasim noted from behind, his aging voice showing utmost respect for the jinnum. “Only that this time, we were here to not only put a stop to it, but avenge him.”

“The wounds inflicted upon him will undoubtedly convince not only the elders, but also his parents to act.” Rahul went on as he walked over towards the unconscious countess. He spat on the woman, commenting. “She survived, excellent. I was afraid one of his spawn had to take the role.”

“Role?” Arakiel asked in a slightly frayed tone, having a hard time not throwing up. He barely noticed how he drove his nails into his flesh.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the Shamshierum would try to kill everyone here, uncaring for combatants and noncombatants.

There was no honor to be gained here, or satisfaction.

It would see his goal move forward, yes – but at what cost…?

He really, really hoped that Aurora would be okay.

“This one will spearhead the march back home.” Ibun Qasim answered as he let his gaze wander across the slaughter. He didn’t seem distressed. If anything, he seemed quite pleased.

“I thought you wanted to occupy this town…?” Arakiel asked once more.

Rahul responded this time. “No, Boundary must burn and burn it will. It will become a monument to our will to defy the Middles.”

“What a waste,” Ezekiel commented from the side as he knelt down next to some Middle adolescents that some cowering adults had tried to hide. They were all whimpering, crying and seemed to barely register what was going on. Without looking towards the Shamshierum, he inquired further. “What’s this march?”

Arakiel just stood there, listening. Usually, he’d be keen on acquiring loot after winning a battle, but this… he felt numb.

So much senseless destruction.

Or had it been senseless? He caught himself asking internally.

“It will signal the dawn of a new era for us, for we will no longer be bound by food.” Ibun Qasim explained and the usually calm, collected voice turned proud. “The jinnum, the Speaker and everyone else will have no chance but to see the scale of our ambition – and that we can seize it!”

Arakiel suddenly heard a slight commotion from the side, with girls pleading and elder men acting either enraged or pitiful.

Ezekiel had grabbed a blonde-haired, green-eyed girl in a formerly-refined and now dirty dress who was struggling in a panic while another girl that looked almost the same cried and wailed as she tried to hit the slaver.

Arakiel recognized the girls as the count’s two other daughters, the ones that had constantly stolen glances at the male outsiders. Right now, they only looked like frightened, thoroughly terrified girls, none of their former dignity or grace remaining.

“Ezekiel?” Arakiel found himself asking through slightly gnashed teeth while Rahul and Zari Amar had begun to cut the count’s and countess’s clothes off.

Ibun Qasim had noticed, too, asking. “This is the defiler’s spawn, isn’t it? Good eyes, Lord Ezekiel!”

Ezekiel briefly looked over towards Arakiel before he turned his attention to ibun Qasim and the other Shamshierum, announcing. “I’m taking this one.”

Arakiel felt baffled, but he had no ground from which to make his protest.

Rahul slightly turned around, commenting in a rather disappointed tone. “The count’s spawn? We would like to use them.”

Ezekiel then reached for the girl’s sister that had begun to hit him with desperate, random attacks which had left the somewhat man thoroughly unfazed. He had only blocked those that might’ve reached his nether region.

“I’m sure you’ll find some of their other ‘spawn’ as you call it. I’ll be taking these two in my custody.” Ezekiel announced and then began to drag the screaming girls after him.

“Lord Ezekiel I cannot…” Rahul began, yet Zari Amar reached out to him with a touch and shook his head. Instead, he rerouted the broad-shouldered man’s attention towards the one-legged count.

Arakiel hurried after Ezekiel, sparing the Shamshierum no further glance. He tread over corpses and those that would soon be one, their burns horrific – and he felt sick.

“Ezekiel, what exactly do you think–” Arakiel began to say in the lingua kalans as soon as he caught up.

“I’m saving these two,” the other man responded without stopping. “And if you can’t see that, look again!”

“I’d rather not look around at all!” Arakiel protested in an irritated manner.

“You should, though.” Ezekiel returned in a dead serious tone. There was cold anger in it. “Because this is what these people in the south will do with everything if someone doesn’t stop them!”

“What? You propose we switch sides and fight them!?” Arakiel returned, getting upset as well.

Once they arrived at the square’s edge, Ezekiel stopped while the two girls he kept in his grip had spent all their energy, instead choosing to cry and wail. He paid them no attention.

“Look around you, Arakiel. Take a good long damn look!” Ezekiel urged once more and this time, Arakiel did stop to do just that.

So. Much. Death.

And there would be more, he could tell.

The Shamshierum were herding the survivors into small groups where they made them kneel, but they were already grouping them by relative age and sex.

“They’re gonna execute a lot more of them, aren’t they?” Arakiel found himself muttering.

“They will and it will not be pretty. I’d estimate that they brought around 150 shackles along – guess what happens to the others?” Ezekiel queried rhetorically, his voice having an accusing tone.

“And you’re making me responsible, is that it!?” Arakiel asked in flared anger.

The other Mortal Ascendant looked straight into his eyes. Even his amethyst-colored eyes suddenly seemed to drown in crimson. “I do not,” Ezekiel stated outright.

Arakiel heard no deceit in it.

“But I think you need to see this, given that you never really joined a proper planeswalk, as far as I know at least.” Ezekiel went on, asking. “You know what I’m seeing here?”

“Do tell,” Arakiel answered curtly.

“A massive waste of resources and wealth. This is not what planeswalking is about.” Ezekiel outlined.

“Huh?” Arakiel asked stupefied. He felt as though he should know the answer, but right now, he was too angered to think straight.

“Planeswalkers seek wealth to gain more power. The Transcended’s boons are expensive and each one is worth its cost.” Ezekiel lectured and Arakiel suddenly felt like an idiot, because he had been.

“Clobber me will you?” Arakiel burst out while hitting his own forehead. “To think the planebound slaver lectures me, who has been walking the planes for nearly two decades at this point.”

“We are meant to conquer, Arakiel – not destroy.” Ezekiel concluded pointedly.

“It’s mainly the magical Sites and potential exotic goods that are of value for planeswalking clans, though.” Arakiel corrected, feeling some of his wits returning.

“Perhaps, but to me, every person is a resource.” Ezekiel answered and motion Arakiel to follow so that they didn’t need to stand here any longer than necessary. “You need a functioning economy on the planes to extract wealth from it and for that, you need a stable realm under your control.”

“Are you lecturing me?”

“I’m reminding you, Arakiel.” The slaver corrected. “We are to conquer this plane for your House, but if the Shamshierum and the others just burn down the entire Middle Kingdom, the plane will be worthless.”

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“I understand that, but what do you want me to do?” Arakiel asked.

“Don’t bother with Zari Amar and his cronies. They’re blinded by hatred. The merchants in al-Aliriq or the other cities might be more profit-oriented… we should seek their support alongside the ruling jinnum. They don’t seem to be blinded by as much hatred.”

“You do realize that Zari Amar is hailed as a hero in his city?” Arakiel pointed out as he picked up Aurora along the way, using another blanket as a means of keeping her mostly free of blood.

“Because he brings food to a society traumatized by starvation. This won’t be a concern as soon as there’s an abundance, especially when the merchants realize that they need people to work in the fields.”

“So what do you propose?” Arakiel queried, realizing that he was relying on Ezekiel quite often – and the man had spoken a lot of sensible things thus far.

It made sense, in a way. He used to be a merchant of sorts.

“For now? We gotta loot the count’s home before the Shamshierum get there. I’m sure his daughters will be very cooperative once I’ve properly explained the situation to them.” Ezekiel proposed in a relatively calm tone, adding. “We can worry about the rest afterwards.”

Arakiel affirmed. “Very well, anything to get away from here.”

The two hurried back towards Selene and Mellia who were still hiding out in the same small alley where they had left in.

Around them, the town turned eerily silent yet again, the only exception being Ezekiel’s blade that constantly clanked against his artifact as he had just shoved it into the backside gap created by the lack of cloth. It had to be rather uncomfortable, but his hands were already full.

There were, however, a few more people there than before, most notably two terrified mothers, one that looked fairly young while the other one was a little older. The younger one had a small boy hugging her skirt while she held a babe in her arms. The older one had two young daughters that she sought to protect from the newcomers.

They were unarmed, frightened and didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat and when the children winced and began to sob at the newcomers’ arrival, the mothers positioned themselves in the front with fearful but determined gazes. Their expressions turned hostile when they became aware of the two crying girls in Ezekiel’s hands as they undoubtedly recognized them.

They did not commit to any hostile actions, however.

Arakiel paid them no mind and headed over towards Mellia, intending to help her to rise, but she declined, saying that she’d rather not get sullied by blood.

Even Selene eyed the two of them with some hesitant wariness.

Noticing this, Ezekiel and Arakiel merely motioned them to follow while disregarding the others that had sought shelter here, although Selene’s lord advised them to not only stay clear of the central square, but flee the town as soon as possible.

The females did not react to his words, merely shooting them gazes full of hate.

They didn’t stick around while Arakiel motioned towards the count’s manor which was one of the few buildings that had some light burning inside. On the other side, the fire was slowly but steadily spreading, the soldiers that had been sent there unable to finish their task.

Arakiel had them do a small detour and as soon as they reached the place where he had left Nyanna, Ezekiel let the girls go that immediately rushed over while calling out their elder sister’s name.

The shackled, nearly-naked Nature Thaumaturge’s expression relayed shock and disbelief. When her sisters began to bombard her with a swathe of almost incoherent babble about death, so much death, Arakiel felt his own chest tightening. Nyanna, however, appeared to lose all hope, her eyes kind of turning dull.

He was duly aware that he had been the reason for all of this, which also meant that he had to confront the fallout… but it was still kind of hard to stomach.

Ezekiel motioned Arakiel to stay away for a while – let them support each other. Meanwhile, he brought Selene and Mellia up to speed, urging them to stay away from the central square at all costs.

Arakiel reinforced that statement, keeping especially Mellia in mind while he cursed his own idiocy. He should’ve never allowed Aurora to witness this… but she had wanted to remain with him at all times.

A little later, Ezekiel gave Arakiel a small sign and the two headed over towards their weeping captives, collecting them. Arakiel loosened the shackles around Nyanna’s ankles and then dragged her along while Ezekiel ordered her sisters to follow – and this time, he didn’t need to touch them.

The small group then approached and entered the count’s mansion after a relatively quick walk, with Ezekiel barring the door behind them.

Then, he had the girls lead them to the only bath on the first floor which – thankfully – had its own pool. There was still some warmth in the room, so the water might still contain some heat.

Ezekiel ordered the three to clean themselves while reminding them that he and Arakiel would not show them any mercy if they tried to run away.

Given the numbed way the three moved, Arakiel found it redundant, but Ezekiel doubled down and then closed the wooden door.

Arakiel had placed Aurora on a couch in meantime, but he barely took note of his surroundings. His mind still went back to the slaughter, to the fire, to the screams and the smell.

He felt dirty and although he wasn’t trembling, he really wanted to wash everything away just now.. The blood, the smell, and the damned memories along with it.

With only the three planeswalkers and Selene remaining, Ezekiel then instructed his seraphim to search for three sets of comfortable clothing for their new acquisitions, something that Mellia agreed to help with.

Meanwhile, he and Arakiel were to examine the trophy chamber alongside the basement.

As one of the count’s teenage daughters had claimed that the display room was on the second floor, left wing, they headed there first.

Arakiel would describe the mansion’s interior as luxurious with a rustic touch to it, but his mind kept bouncing to other topics. Only when he finally pushed the white-painted double door open, revealing a darkened hall which held several display cases sealed in glass, he focused onto the immediate surroundings again.

He strode across the room and pulled open the heavy curtains in order to allow moonlight to enter.

There, in the distance, he saw a steadily increasing fire on the other side of town and roughly in the middle, smaller ones.

He cursed internally once more, feeling a bit dismayed.

His actions had doomed this town and although it was the correct move, he still felt bad about it.

Was this this so-called responsibility that he had always shied?

In the Selenyean massacre, he hadn’t been responsible… but for this, he felt as though he did; even if he hadn’t thrown those bombs, hadn’t given the order to kill.

“Mull over it,” he heard Ezekiel say from behind.

A light lit up and as Arakiel turned around, he saw his partner-in-crime having just set a candle alight.

“But don’t get lost in it. Take it as a lesson, a reminder that this is not how it’s supposed to be done.”

Arakiel ground his teeth a little, feeling frustrated. “I should’ve seen it coming, no? The hate I used… that’s the consequence, is it not?”

“In a way, yes – but you’re not responsible for it, nor should you allow it to affect you to such a degree.” Ezekiel returned, beginning to examine the display pieces.

They seemed mundane to Arakiel on first glance.

Bits of metal, shards, a piece of fabric… some trinkets. A few paintings as well.

He joined Ezekiel and pulled out the piece of parchment alongside a pen.

The Spatial Ring was impervious to fire, thankfully. It hadn’t even heated up.

He began to document the items he put into his Spatial Ring and for a while, neither said anything else.

His own mind was a mess. Why did this affect him so much?

He was a planeswalker, was he not? They usually brought death and destruction first, and prosperity much later down the road.

Some sacrifices had to be made, but it was still not right.

Not like this.

“It’s good that it bothers you, Arakiel.” Ezekiel suddenly said in an approving tone. “Many grow much too numb for all the destruction they leave in their wake. It’s good to dislike it, even hate it.”

“Why do you know all of this?” Arakiel found himself asking, having just stored a rather fancy bejeweled key.

None of the displays had any plaques describing their content, which was a bit unfortunate although he was only doing it halfheartedly.

“I’ve dealt with the fallout of planeswalks my entire life, Arakiel.” Ezekiel said in a serious tone. “The Slaver’s Guild processes thousands of captives from all around the planes each year and nearly all of them are taken in the field, just like the three girls one level below.”

Arakiel paused and turned to face him.

“Nearly all my charges were traumatized and that’s the first thing we had to deal with. Have these people accept the new reality without giving in to despair. Arakiel, I heard a lot of scenarios over the past decade. Stuff like this here, it’s kindergarten level in scope, but they’re among the worst to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, learn to accept it. Then make up your mind how you feel about it,” Ezkiel began, but Arakiel immediately posed a question on his own.

“Do you hate it?”

“Killing that count and taking his daughters captive? No, this is what I always dreamed about doing. To be out there and leave my mark, to grow strong, wealthy and powerful. The Transcended offered everyone, no matter the origin, a path to become someone important.”

The blonde man briefly paused as if to reaffirm his conviction. “I will walk it to the end, especially now,” he then declared.

“Yet you hated what happened here,” Arakiel pointed out. Ezekiel shrugged and let out a small sigh. None of his former pride remained. Instead, it held disdain.

“It’s a waste is what it is. I don’t kill people because I like it, it’s a means to an end. But there’s no intrinsic value in slaughtering noncombatants besides terror – and while terror is an effective short-term tool, it is incredibly unprofitable in the long run.” Ezekiel outlined. His eyes narrowed as he spoke on. “The Lord Onyx of Kalanaar had the right of it. I quote: the strong may seize whatever they covet, but what remains when there’s only the strong? Nothing, for everything will have been seized.”

“A part of his speech after House Onyx displaced House Opal after a yearlong struggle,” Arakiel recalled. “How did you hear about it?”

“I trained a Runemaiden of House Opal. Her brother, a Runelord of House Opal had been ambushed by…”

“Wait, her brother?” Arakiel interrupted. “Isn’t Runemaiden just a fancy word for sex slave?”

Ezekiel chuckled as he shook his head. “It became that because most of House Opal’s Runemaidens did end up in such a position. It was the Opal’s own invention, even – a way to attract promising crafters that had the potential to become Runelords, but who had not yet found a suitable Offering.”

“I never really bothered with crafters,” Arakiel admitted.

“Long story short, the guy I trained the Runemaiden for… he invested a lot of time and money into reeducating parts of the other guy’s staff instead of just selling them…”

“And?”

“Well, I got a letter just last year from her, actually.”

“A letter? From someone you trained?”

“It happens quite often, actually.” Ezekiel returned proudly. “I’m giving these girls a new lease on life – and most often, serving a successful planeswalker is quite a comfy lifestyle that comes not only with access to education, but also some influence. One elven girl I trained ended up becoming her captor’s main wife a few years later.”

“Ah, yes… the benevolent slaver.” Arakiel answered dryly, kind of having forgotten what they were even talking about earlier.

“You’re Kalanite, you’re even worse than us Impyreans.” Ezekiel noted without any judgment whatsoever.

Arakiel blinked. “You’re Impyrean!? I thought you worked in Selenya!”

“I asked Shemyaza to tell you.”

“Why!?”

“Why not? It’s not like our cities of origin had any importance. The Slaver’s Guild is active in all five Eternal Cities.” Ezekiel countered, giving him a slight bow as he said mockingly. “Ezekiel il Impyrea, Slaver’s Guild, employee number 1361. At your service.”

“You’re kidding me?” Arakiel asked while frowning.

“I’m not, but I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better.” Ezekiel returned as he gave Arakiel a slight tap against his shoulder. “On a really serious note, remember my words – that girl you captured… she’ll be traumatized. Unless you want her to break, you gotta be gentle as with expensive porcelain. Just be sure to assert your dominance if she challenges you.”

“I don’t even know what I want to do with her,” Arakiel admitted, adding. “Part of me just wants to let her go.”

“That’s a death sentence. Either you ignore her and sell her to someone who cares, or you’ll take responsibility and guide her.” Ezekiel responded seriously.

“Aurora did mention that she disliked homework.” Arakiel muttered, slightly shaking his head. “What will you do?”

“I’ll take these girls in for now. I hate having to waste time on menial stuff with Selene and given her superb performance, I promised to train her an attendant and these girls will be easy to mold for the time being. It’s all preliminary.” Ezekiel outlined nonchalantly.

“Preliminary?”

“Aye. They serve me, I protect them. No brands or sex unless they crawl in my bed. When we leave this plane, I’ll reevaluate the matter.”

“And if they don’t serve?”

“They will. If the Shamshierum do half of what I think they might do, these girls will quickly realize how lucky they were to make sheep’s eyes at me or rather, at us.” Ezekiel answered matter-of-factly.

“From your lips to Trans’ ears.” Arakiel answered, but the brief talk had helped him switch up his thoughts. It seemed like a decent idea for the time being.

A little later, they hurried downwards, more or less in line with Selene and Mellia who had procured three comfy and airy looking whitish dresses that might also serve as nightgowns.

Ezekiel ordered Selene to deliver them while Mellia inquired in her style whether she could rest here.

Arakiel and Ezekiel briefly discussed the question and affirmed. His eyes followed his little sister up the wooden stairs, noting how she struggled to ascend the steps. He wanted to assist her, but she’d only decline because of his…

Looking down, the disgust returned at the sight of his bloodied hand and he had trouble not just storming into the bath to wash it away.

He heard Selene addressing the girls inside. As expected, she perfectly spoke the local’s language as well. He couldn’t even tell whether he realized it just now or had already realized it previously.

Before his mind could go further down some rabbit hole, the silver-eyed seraphim then returned with three siblings in tow, each of them dressed a white dress whose upper part was somewhat wet because of freshly-washed hair.

The green eyes widened in fear and they hugged each other, but Selene suddenly spread her wings in order to block their sight.

Then, the argent looked directly at her owner, saying in a perfectly polite tone. “Master, your bath is ready. I suggest you hurry.”

Ezekiel let out a slight sigh, saying. “You heard the lady, let’s go.”

Arakiel’s eyes wandered over towards Aurora, the tablecloth having served its purpose. Her clothes were free of blood.

With a sigh of relief, he followed Ezekiel.

* * *