A pair of soft green eyes that glistened both dangerous and promisingly stared right at him and when they looked down, Arakiel saw the count’s daughter holding a slip of paper on her own that she pressed into his hand.

Then, she strutted away and back to her seat, where she sat down, once again looking over towards and at him while just about everyone else was currently paying attention to her father’s post-tapping speech.

He unfurled the little slip of paper on which a fine writing stated:

Follow me – alone – when it is time to dance. Else I will rat you out.

He looked up and the young woman gave him a charming-yet-dangerous smile, her eyes glinting in an almost predatory manner.

A bit irritating, but not a disaster just yet.

Nonetheless, the festive atmosphere left him mostly cold while Aurora seemed to possess no such inhibition. She happily followed the ceremony and even Mellia began to have a few bites of the food presented which looked admittedly delicious, but they hadn’t come here for a feast.

Ezekiel had his usual expressionless face while Selene sat there on her little stool that the Middles had actually provided for the winged seraphim. A nice touch, for they couldn’t sit down properly on normal chairs – Aurora had claimed it was rather uncomfortable which is why she usually preferred to sit sideways on his lap.

The fest began in full, with women beginning to cut meat from the oxen as the count and two other men began to tap the other barrels at which point the alcohol flowed freely.

Music from a little band of musicians followed from the side. A bit of percussion, some lutes and even a wind instrument. They played quite well and enhanced the festivities quite nicely.

Soon enough, cheers for the count and countess followed and a little later, an entire choir of women assembled on the side, singing a praise to Count Eregon the Defender of Civilization, the Lord of World’s Edge.

And then someone shouted the words ‘revenge for Desert’s Weal’ and just moments later, almost the entire square had joined in, repeatedly chanting the phrase over and over again.

Arakiel didn’t know its significance, but when he saw how the countess suddenly began to cry, he looked the citizens over once again and there were many people that shed tears and the more they changed, the more vigorous and heartfelt it came across.

And then, after a good while, the count raised his arm and the musicians ceased. The citizens quickly followed, their gazes turned directly onto the count who had gone back to the stage, only half-ascending it.

“Fellow men, honorable women and adoring little ones, I, your ruler Count Eregon, Defender of Civilization, Lord of World’s Edge and Chosen Warden of his Highness King Cahir of the Three Rivers, wish to address your concerns.”

Absolute silence followed – with no one speaking a single world. Bated breath, eyes peeled.

“Today, we celebrate a joyous occasion, one worthy of song and praise – but we must not forget that my day of birth was also a great mark of shame for all of us!” The count announced in a loud, authoritative voice. “Seventy years ago, on this very spot, the devils of the desert enacted their devious and foul plan, sending the storm of sand that ground not only our fair town to dust, it also buried your kin and their parents, their very children along with it!”

The faces of many of the feasting people turned grim, determined.

Arakiel listened closely, although he had a bad premonition.

The count continued. “We all know and feel because we all lost someone back then – my own mother only escaped the tragedy because she was visiting her father, King Cahir. Few survived that day and although our ancestors braved the desert’s expansion with grit and shovel, they could only retrieve the lifeless bodies of their loved ones. My entire close family except for my mother died that day, in this very location!”

Silence kept on.

“But!” The count exclaimed as he held up his left hand. “God has granted me, has granted us a miracle, for why else would he sent one of the devils into our very home on this exact day!?”

Gasps, outrage and foreboding excitement returned from the square.

Arakiel had a very bad feeling about this.

From the side, out of what appeared to be relatively nondescript timberframe building, a pair of fully armored guardsmen dragged a naked and gagged man in chains behind them – a man with bronze skin, maddened ruby eyes and dark hair.

They hauled him to a spot close to the feasting tables, in between two bonfires so that he was well-visible. There, someone had placed a wooden upright table with four iron bindings near the upper and lower edges. Neither the countess nor the couple’s children – seven in total – seemed surprised at this development.

The people down below, however, did.

Arakiel shot a glance towards Ezekiel who more or less motioned him to remain quiet and watch.

The guardsmen led the gagged Zari Amar over to the table where they fastened him to the table while another man brought another table. On it, he placed a variety of sharp objects, from tongs to knives and the like.

Arakiel reached for Aurora and pulled her close, whispering that she shouldn’t look. She did look, however. For now, at least.

“Yes, this one is a djinn! A devil of the sand! He sought to infiltrate our fair and vigilant town to undoubtedly weave his foul magic in order to bring about a second Desert’s Weal!” The count accused as he approached Zari Amar, whose hateful glance fixated solely onto the count. If he had noticed Arakiel and the others, he didn’t let it slip.

Stopping in front of the jinnum, the count once again turned to his people, spreading his arms. His voice had turned solemn with a hint of gratitude. “It is truly a miracle, is it not? Thirty years ago, on the wedding ceremony of my wife and I, we got to punish another devil that sought to seduce us with honeyed words and gifts of velvet and now, three decades later, all of us get to exact vengeance again!”

Zari Amar’s expression turned to a grimace of hate and he began to burn in yellow flames, but the iron and the wood held. The gag in his mouth, however, burned to ash in a matter of moments but when the jinnum tried to speak up, Count Eremon decisively reached into Zari Amar’s mouth and brought a small knife to bear without any hint whatsoever.

This time, Arakiel actively pushed Aurora against his chest, forcing her to look away as the crowd cheered their count on as he cut out the jinnum’s tongue, shouting. “I won’t allow you to defile my people’s ears with your venomous tongue, devil – but your screams will be the music to which we dance to honor our fallen!”

Then, Count Eremon presented the prize taken and tossed it into the bonfire while the captive behind him spat out dark blood. Uncaring, the count walked over towards an older woman that sat just nearby. He flipped the knife and handed her the grip, saying loudly. “Mistress Ochae, you were but a babe when Desert’s Weal fell to the sand. As one of the last remaining witnesses, you should do the honors of exacting vengeance. One cut, you choose how deep or wide.”

The citizens of Boundary cheered as the old woman took the knife, walking over towards a maddened Zari Amar that thrashed against his bindings.

Arakiel whispered soothing words to Aurora who had chosen to focus on her proximity to him while Ezekiel once again signaled him to not be an idiot. This wasn’t worth it.

Arakiel agreed, yet it was still hard to watch.

It was a surreal, to be quite honest – how the citizens of the town lined up to draw the bloody knife over the jinnum’s skin. Some did a small, others a large cut, some insulted him, others did so apathetically and no matter how much the jinnum tried to flare his flame, he could not break the iron for it began to eventually glow blue, causing hissing sounds to form as the water enchantments fought the fire.

“An odd celebration, Lady Muirne,” Arakiel eventually said, noting. “My aurea is quite distressed.”

“You wished to learn our customs, did you not?” The woman returned with surprising bite, her gaze looking over Aurora with what could be considered disdain.

Her daughter Nyanna had not once even glanced at the jinnum. Her interest lay in Arakiel and Arakiel only. It started to get a little bit worrying.

“I personally don’t mind, but Aurora is a tender soul and quite averse to cruelty.” He answered, trying to sound diplomatic. He was actually unsure how Aurora saw this whole matter. So far, he had always isolated her but now, it was kind of difficult.

“You think this is cruelty?” Her son asked in a biting tone. “This is not only justice, this is mercy for us! A way to soothe our ailing souls.”

“I respect your custom,” Arakiel returned calmly, meeting the man’s eyes. “But I ask that you also respect my custom.”

“You are a guest here. We even gave you the honors. We demand you watch it.” The countess stated matter-of-factly, her gaze stern. Then, she hinted down. “Look, we will even heal him. If that is not mercy, then what is?”

Down there, a relatively young woman began to shine in silvery light onto the tortured jinnum, causing his wounds to close fairly rapidly.

“That’s astral healing,” Arakiel stated, beginning to understand what they were doing here. “You don’t just want to kill him, you want to end him, quite literally.”

“The sand devils have lots of time, it is only fair we take some of it back.” The countess replied after which she continued eating. With a slight expression, she smiled. “Meat tastes so much better when there’s a devil’s scream in one’s ear, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m afraid I’ve eaten my fill,” Aurora then said, turning towards the woman. Her tone was calm, respectful – but had a slight bite to it. “And what you are doing down there is not justice, it is torture – plain and simple.”

“Call it as you may,” the young man said, his eyes looking over Aurora in a manner that made Arakiel very angry. He had to discipline himself not to show it. “I would happily instruct you on our history with the devils in more detail. I’m sure you’d come to understand that our cause is just and right… in fact, you would praise my father for the kindness he shows to his subjects.”

“My champion has already expressed his tolerance of your custom. The matter is settled, but tolerating something doesn’t mean liking, or supporting it.” Aurora returned and then demonstratively looked away first, and then to Arakiel again.

“Well spoken, aurea.” Mellia approved quietly from the side, having spoken in the lingua kalans.

“Let me fully concentrate on you, my love.” She whispered in the Kalanite tongue and then put her arms around him, turning her winged back to the ceremony downstairs.

Judging by the way the countess’s daughter’s eyes bored into Aurora’s back, she didn’t like that one bit.

Down at the feast, the ceremony began to settle into the rest. People drank and ate while the music began to play again, only occasionally interrupted by a silent hollow scream when a particularly spiteful individual ran the knife across Zari Amar’s eyes, manhood or someplace else.

Arakiel should’ve felt fairly neutral to this, but he could not. He didn’t like Zari Amar flaying Count Filann and he also didn’t like this.

Torture was a device to obtain information. Executions were to make a statement. But this… this served a purpose, sure – but he couldn’t see himself doing or supporting it, realizing full well that Ezekiel had used far worse methods to make the Water Alterator talk.

But it had been different… or had it?

Both had a different goal, but the methods…

He realized that he had basically allowed something similar to happen already, so how could he now act outraged at it?

The longer he thought about it, the less it seemed to trouble him. Zari Amar had allowed himself to get captured – what his captors did with him was entirely up to their discretion… and when they wanted to make a show of it, then it was up to someone else to either stop it or do nothing about it.

Arakiel, for now, chose the latter. He still hadn’t seen any other Shamshierum.

The feast proceeded. More and more alcohol was consumed while at some point, some of the tables were pushed to the side to form a proper dance floor around the fires that had the oxen on it.

It began to gradually fill up with people dancing to the sounds of the music and Zari Amar suffering untold agony. The young man invited Aurora, who declined before he turned towards Selene, who briefly looked at him, let out a small huff of disdain and then turned away once more. Annoyed, the young noble stomped off and although his mother seemed a little irritated at the outright rejection her son had experienced, she went down towards the floor as well, where her husband was already waiting.

Two of the other teenage daughters giggled while constantly throwing glances towards Ezekiel and Arakiel and the other sons hurried down soon afterwards.

Sometime later, when the dances were already in full swing, Arakiel saw Nyanna get up, giving him a threatening and inviting glance at the same time.

He got up somewhat reluctantly while whispering to Aurora that she should follow him just a bit later. Then, he internally returned full control over her flame to her. He only needed to think about ‘control’ or ‘release’ to make it happen. She claimed to not notice, but he wasn’t sure if she actually told the truth. His seraphim had lied about knowing the local language as well. It was to be expected.

On his way off the stage, he saw Zari Amar noticing him and for a moment, the man’s maddened eyes focused and although Arakiel couldn’t quite say it with certainty, but there was a sudden calmness to the way the jinnum acted which got him thinking.

Nyanna hurried away from the feast which he found a little surprising, but he followed her nonetheless.

There were a few ways in which this might develop and he wasn’t too keen on either, so he mainly remained on guard as he followed the young woman through the more or less darkened streets illuminated only by the occasional brazier or torchpost. She led him away and around several corners until they were a good distance away.

When Arakiel turned around yet another corner, the count’s daughter had vanished from one moment to another and he only saw a pitch-black road. Around him, silence set in and the sounds of the feast and the music were only a hollow echo here.

Arakiel tensed up without taking on Aurora’s aspect just yet, but something was definitely not right here. He bounced a few ideas in his mind, but didn’t end up with anything concentrate.

Only one way to find out.

He took a step forward, hearing the soil beneath his feet tightening at his weight. It crunched, like his boots’ leather creaked just a tiny bit.

His own heart beat a little faster and he felt the blood rushing through his veins.

Arakiel listened closely, very closely.

Nothing.

Silence.

Suddenly, a rustle! Soft, barely audible.

He focused onto the darkness, narrowing his eyes. His hand was poised to unsheathe and strike at a moment’s notice.

An uneven shape in the dark, more rustling.

And then, a swift movement and his instincts made him execute a few steps back.

A meow.

He knit his brow in confusion.

The outline of a small, black cat became visible over there, in the dark. A pair of slit-topaz eyes asking him what exactly he thought was doing.

Relief.

As he thought it, he dashed forward and as he did, he heard a whooshing sound behind him.

After several steps, he swirled around while gripping his weapon, not having unsheathed it yet.

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There, right behind where had been, Nyanna stood, lightly clicking her tongue while her green eyes looked him over.

“You do your name proud, Lord Arakiel il Kalanaar.” The girl said while lasciviously licking her red lips in addition to lightly adjusting or perhaps loosening her bodice, letting her curvature jiggle a little.

“What are you doing, Young Lady Nyanna?” He asked somewhat defensively as she strode towards him, swaying her hips.

“I’m trying to have some fun with you, my lovely handsome outsider.” The young woman invited, her voice suddenly smooth as velvet.

“Fun?” Arakiel asked to clarify although she was quickly heading over towards making overtures.

“Yes… the kind of fun that gets me seeded, my lovely delectable outsider,” Nyanna went on suggest while still getting closer. “You look strong, virile…”

“Stop.” Arakiel blocked off while slightly relaxing, having expected something else. “I don’t want to risk a scandal.”

She giggled lovingly at his statement while moving her hands towards the bodice which she removed with swift hands. Her soft green eyes promised pleasure, yet they also something else.

“A scandal? Hardly!” She repeated and answered, adding bemusedly. “My mother would be disappointed if I don’t seize such an opportunity!”

“I’ve no interest, Young Lady Nyanna.” Arakiel repeated once more, but when Nyanna pulled down a part of her shoulder-less dress, he had to bite his tongue a little to remain calm. Being constantly surrounded by beautiful maidens made one a little… susceptible to such antics.

His mind briefly trailed off and he only caught himself when the woman suddenly lunged at him, her left hand briefly glowing in a green light. He evaded once again, and this time, his mind stayed sharp as he eyed her once more, but there was no trace of magic on her.

Still, she was a mage, undoubtedly. Nature, most likely. Perhaps a thaumaturge or evoker.

“I’m having a hard time not viewing this as an attack!” Arakiel warned as his body caught up with his mind, realizing that it might be time to fight an actual battle and not in the sheets.

Young Lady Nyanna was beginning to meld with the shadows, which was bad.

“I am not attacking you, my lovely tasty outsider. I’m playing with you, but you’re being a bit of a spoilsport,” the count’s daughter noted in with an audible sigh.

She stopped and began to pull out one of her shapely breasts, hiding it in the shadow, just enough for him to surmise the outline.

When he didn’t give her the expected reaction, she clicked her tongue once more, saying in an irritated manner. “Fine, if you want to be a bore, then I’ll tell my parents that you’re in cahoots with the devil.”

“As if they could believe that,” Arakiel returned right away, but he was tense inside. There was no way she should know, but she sounded so sure.

“They’ll bring you in for questioning anyway my lovely outsider – and when you’re all alone, I’ll visit you again. I’m sure you’ll be much more amicable by then.”

The way the young woman said these words made it seem as though she had full confidence that such an event would truly come to pass.

It didn’t seem to far fetched, admittedly. The former part.

“What do you want, Lady Nyanna?” Arakiel asked to gain some time to think.

“Stop acting like an idiot, Lord Arakiel. I can tell that–” Young Lady Nyanna began when Arakiel suddenly heard a girl’s yell, one that made him immediately charge straight past the surprised noblewoman without giving her any further attention at all.

Around the corner, at the edge of the dark street, he recognized the source and his body joined his subconscious mind.

In a split-second, Arakiel took on Aurora’s aspect and reached for the dawnshard in his coat’s pocket.

Having already formed the concept of ‘projection’ and ‘travel’, he drew upon Aurora’s gold as he blinked all the way across the street.

Right afterwards, he dropped her aspect while concentrating all of his seraphim’s fire towards his right fist which he silently buried right in the young man’s ribs.

The count’s son let out a grunt as Arakiel punched him with such force that he was flung aside which immediately caused Aurora to jump into Arakiel’s arms. She spoke in an odd voice, one of relief and anger.

“You are here.”

Arakiel protectively put one of his hands around her while staring full of hate at the groaning man who had just managed to get onto his knees. He panted heavily and held his side, the green eyes wide with anger.

“Who dares!?” He shouted into the night before having even looked up.

Arakiel turned sideways, asking. “Did he touch you?”

“This… this man grabbed my wrists! Against my will!” Aurora stated breathlessly, a trace of disgust swinging along with it. Her eyes were wide, slightly unfocused and her body was partially trembling.

“You…!” The man on the floor groaned as he slowly got up. His eyes showed surprise – and growing annoyance.

“Dear brother!” A female voice called out all the way back, approaching swiftly.

“Damn it Nyanna!” The man shouted back. “What happened!?”

“That’s what I want to know!” Arakiel yelled while his seraphim’s shiver’s stopped, but the way her hands dug into him made him so very, very angry right now. The fear in her eyes began to take on another tone, one of disgust and…

Nyanna was running over from back in the dark, but it’d still be a minute or two until she was there. Meanwhile, her brother was close to Arakiel, his gaze focused onto him while one hand lay at his sword’s pommel.

“Last chance, boy. What happened here!?” Arakiel stated, his own hand going towards the broadsword at his belt.

“He tried to force himself upon me.” Aurora then said in a disbelieving tone. “Told me to…”

Arakiel let go of Aurora, drew his blade and began to walk towards the young man who still struggled to get onto his feet.

“No, stop! What are you doing!?” He heard someone shout from the side but Arakiel paid Nyanna no mind. His eyes focused only onto the person that had tried to hurt his seraphim, his aurea… his love.

Redirecting all his fire towards his legs, he doubled his speed with each step and after four, he quietly lunged at the young man on the ground with a raised blade.

“Stop!” The count’s daughter cried out while the young man’s instincts took over, letting him draw his blade which he managed to move in order to intercept just in time.

Right before steel met steel, Arakiel ordered the fire towards his arms and when their blades connected, he hit it with such force that the man’s grip faltered. The sword fell onto the side with a loud clank.

Arakiel slightly shifted his blade and went for a lethal thrust when he heard Aurora’s voice from behind, shouting.

“Arakiel!”

His movements froze mid motion, his sword just a little distance away from the man’s neck. The guy had frozen, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, turning his head towards Aurora who stood over there, her entire body trembling, arms hugging her shoulders.

“Hold me…” She began to say in a low, quivering voice.

“A moment, please.” Arakiel returned as he briefly turned his attention towards the boy. Putting one hand onto his pommel, he was about to push when Aurora’s voice resounded once more, only that she was shouting frantically now. Or rather, she was trying to.

“H-HOLD…!”

His mind went blank at the tone of Aurora’s voice and next he knew, he stood right next to her while his own body was ablaze in her fire, of which there was less than before.

He had dropped his blade, fully embracing his charge in order to provide shelter and Aurora clawed into him in anger, fear, frustration and most of all, relief.

Her eyes were teary and he gently pushed her head against his shoulder while softly stroking her hair.

In return, she wreathed her wings around him; the plumage was soft to the touch, but cold.

“Hush, I’m here…” He whispered while behind him, he heard two voices speaking to one another.

“Damn it Lugh, are you alright!?” The female asked.

“I… yes,” the male one replied at first before burst into anger. “What are you doing, Nyanna!? He was supposed to be balls deep in you at this point!”

“He dodged the spell!” The young woman’s voice said in frustration. “He’s not as simple and… what were you doing!?”

“Thank you… my champion.” Aurora whispered softly, her voice having calmed down notably.

He was truly her safe haven, for her trembling almost stopped immediately while her breathing had studied as well.

“It was my mistake,” Arakiel concluded softly as he half-turned to the nobles, his voice hardening to sharpened greion. “You better have a damn good explanation for this…”

“Or what!?” The man shouted, having managed to get up with his sister’s help. “We’re in father’s domain, you can’t do anything to me you…!”

“Lugh, wait!” Nyanna urged as she turned towards Arakiel, her face trying to provoke pity. “Forgive us our imprudence, Lord Arakiel. We weren’t being serious!”

“What, no!?” The young man called Lugh opposed vehemently. “Why should we apologize? That foreign filth should be happy I lower myself to bless his servant with my seed!”

“Lugh…”

“And he should be delighted that you deem him worthy of having access to your fields, Nyanna. Goodness knows he might be the first!”

“I’m still waiting for that explanation,” Arakiel threatened as the ratio in his mind tried to calm his emotions. But he was seething right now. Different cultures and customs be damned – none was allowed to touch Aurora, to…

“Please, Lord Arakiel – there is no need to…” Young Lady Nyanna began when Aurora suddenly spoke up, addressing the noblewoman with one single question.

“What spell?”

Lugh, having fully gotten up now, grabbed his sword and gripped it tightly. “Nyanna, I am seeding that servant over there tonight. He’s just some foreigner, some random weak merchant!” His words dripped with anger.

“WHAT spell!?” Aurora repeated louder, her voice having turned sharp, accusing.

“How dare you address my sister like this, lowly servant!?” The man shouted back. “I’m going to discipline you properly! That’ll teach you to speak with your betters!”

Arakiel took a deep breath, having a hard time not putting the man to the torch. Or even better, beat the life out of him.

He was at a crossroads here, sort of. Should he let these rowdies trample all over him and his seraphim’s dignity, or should he do the only proper thing and teach them a lesson they would never forget.

No, it wasn’t just that. This was a backwater place and these people weren’t worth the dirt beneath his boots. He was a Kalanite, a member of House Alexandrite’s main bloodline. He was a planeswalker, a…

Ezekiel would’ve probably crippled the boy and humbled the girl, perhaps even collared her. But he was not Ezekiel, was he?

“What spell did you attempt to use on Lord Arakiel?” Aurora asked yet again while lightly moving away from Arakiel so that she could get a proper view at the half-hidden noblewoman.

There was but a single brazier here and its cone of light didn’t reach too far.

“I swear it was nothing ill-willed! Just a fleeting charm spell.” Lady Nyanna returned but Arakiel barely registered it. His eyes kept the two adolescents in check while his own mind tried to sort out a basic principle on how to move forward.

He was a planeswalker now, a proper one. A representative of Kalanaar, of House Alexandrite. He had been given a mission – and it was his duty to ensure that mission succeeded. Retaliating against these people would diminish his chances while bringing him nothing but personal satisfaction.

This was not the way – or was it?

He was ripped from his thoughts when he suddenly heard Aurora address him. “Arakiel, my conqueror. Will you allow these people to trample over your dignity…” She began at first, only to add the latter part with a hint of accusation. “…over my honor?”

Of course.

This wasn’t just about him. It was also about Aurora, his seraphim, his aurea.

“Of course not.” He replied, feeling vindicated while letting the fire spread throughout his entire body once more.

After a brief pause, he asked Aurora softly. “Which hand did he touch you with?”

“The left.” She returned and he looked to the side, to the man whose left hand gripped the sword’s handle.

“I’m sure we can work something out, Lord Arakiel! We really didn’t…”

“Nyanna, I”

“Shut up Lugh! Our parents can’t help us right now!”

“You, boy. Cut off your left hand,” Arakiel ordered authoritatively, explaining. “For laying hand on my aurea, you deserve death.”

“What? That’s unreasonably–” Nyanna began but fell silent as Arakiel turned to her, his eyes piercing hers with accusation.

“And you, girl. For attacking and trying to seduce me, I should have you flogged before reeducating you through several months of slave labor,” he went on to explained before concluding, his ratio still achieving a partial victory.

“But given the circumstances, I will accept an earnest apology instead. One where you both of you strip and profess your crimes before your parents, the Transcended and anyone who may be present. I’m giving you that option because of your imprudence.”

“Unacceptable! As if I lower myself before you!” Lugh shouted and began to make a step forward, raising his sword.

“Lugh, no!” Nyanna exclaimed and grabbed her brother and began to whisper into his ear. “We just need to get to our parents!”

The woman then turned towards him, hands slightly clasped in the front. “If that is what it takes to earn your forgiveness, then we will do it.”

“Why should…!?” The young man began, but his sister whispered something else in his ear that Arakiel couldn’t make out this time.

The adolescents’ facial expressions briefly underwent an entire array of emotions, ending at barely suppressed outrage.

“Very well,” he ended up muttering from behind gnashed teeth. “Let’s head back, then.”

“First, you strip.” Arakiel stated matter-of-factly, his eyes looking the pair of siblings over with a stern glare. “I should kill you for your transgressions. This is merely me showing you mercy while giving your parents some face.”

“I’ll not…!”

“It’s fine if I do it, yes…?” Nyanna asked with fake coyness as she began to loosen the ties on her dress. “My brother is just a bit shy.”

“I couldn’t care less what he feels,” Arakiel returned. From the side, he noticed Aurora’s disdain, only driving him further. “Either you submit to your punishment, or I will be forced to consider you in a different light, one that’ll end with your death.”

“We will, we will!” Nyanna answered right away while lightly stumbling forward. She seemed to struggle with her clothes. “I cannot undress by myself… Lord Arakiel? Would you help a girl out?”

Arakiel unsheathed the dagger, the last weapon on his body, and approached her with grim determination, feeling no desire at her antics whatsoever.

She turned her back to him, revealing a rather strict binding at the back of her dress, one that’d take a while to untangle. Feeling no need to entertain her, he reached for the thick cords and sliced through them with a single, swift stroke.

As the dress fell, he noticed her swirling around and although he pulled back right away, the young woman managed to brush his hand with hers. It had glowed slightly green.

From one moment to another, Arakiel felt control of his entire body fading, as though it didn’t want to respond to his brain’s commands anymore.

He cursed internally at his idiocy while the fire rushed out of his body, causing him to take on Aurora’s aspect right away.

Despite this, he lost utter control of his body in a matter of seconds as some sort of internal toxin caused his body to paralyze while leaving his senses intact.

“Well done, sister!” Lugh exclaimed in praise as he began to charge towards Aurora, who called out Arakiel’s name with worry, fear and a hint of outrage.

Meanwhile, Nyanna’s soft green eyes looked Arakiel over with fondness, uncaring for the fact she only wore her panties now.

There was no triumph or smugness in her expression. She moved her lips, but said nothing, as she guided her left hand towards her lips. Her pointing and middle finger began to glow in a soft green sheen and when they reached her mouth, she hurried over towards him and kissed his paralyzed lips that had opened to say something.

He first felt saliva entering his mouth while the blushing noblewoman closed her eyes. And then her tongue followed.

After the initial shock, Arakiel’s mind immediately began to draw on Aurora’s fire since he couldn’t reach the dawnshard. He focused on the concept of ‘time’ in combination with ‘advance’ and ‘heal’.

Behind him, he heard a dirty laugh and Aurora’s warning to not come closer.

Inside him, he felt the toxin’s effect diminish as aurora’s astral aspect accelerated his own time.

Nyanna, shyly opening her eyes, realized something was off and backed away just before Arakiel clenched his teeth and fists.

“Wha…?” She muttered in disbelief, but Arakiel paid her no mind.

The moment he regained control of his body, he turned around and dashed towards Lugh who was about to reach for Aurora who burned in golden flames as she backed away, having already hit the wall. As soon as she spotted him, however, she folded her hands while a triumphant smile flashed across the aurea’s lips.

Lugh, noticing that something was off, swirled around just as his sister worriedly called out his name.

But it was too late.

Arakiel had suddenly felt his body’s entire time advancing. In a split-moment, he noticed himself having reached the count’s son. Without any hesitation or words, he had driven the dagger into the man’s throat after which he had yanked the dagger from its position, sideways.

The Middle’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, his body trying to raise his weapon in order to defend himself.

And then blood gushed forth, followed by a sea of crimson. Lugh's body went limp

He died on the spot, not even managing a death rattle.

Arakiel’s mind caught on and with the imminent threat to Aurora dealt with, he felt his own time once again flowing in the proper order.

Aurora’s fiery aura had nearly vanished, her spell having nearly taken all of her soul.

Behind him, he heard Nyanna cried out. “No! Lugh! You… you killed him!?”

Arakiel, half-splattered with blood, turned around after he noticed that Aurora was unharmed and well, eyeing the young woman that had just attacked him, had just defiled him.

Her green eyes were widened in disbelief, her hands reaching out to her dead sibling.

The only nearby source of light bathed half of her nude body in a lovely silhouette, playfully outlining her shapely, feminine curves.

Her perky breasts looked supple, the rosy peaks adequate. The waist wasn’t overly thin, leading to decent hips that could undoubtedly give birth to many children.

Looking the woman over like this, she was certainly due for a proper breeding session, it was just…

Arakiel caught himself leering as he approached the woman who was certainly ripe for plucking at which point a part of his mind that wasn’t gone off the trails recalled her speaking about…

“I warned you,” Arakiel said menacingly as he steadily approached the count’s daughter, gripping the dagger just a little tighter in order to focus his mind against Nyanna’s influence.

It’d be a shame, a true shame – but now that it happened, he had to act.

“Actions have consequences,” he mused while focusing his gaze onto her soft green eyes to further divert his attention.

“Wait, wait a moment Lord Arakiel!” The young woman began to say hurriedly as she noticed his gaze and more importantly, the bloody dagger in his hand.

Her legs appeared frozen in place, given how they trembled.

“Are you waiting for your spell to take effect?” He asked sardonically as he began to tower over her. She was taller than Aurora, but not by much.

“Yes, yes! I can be yours, Lord Arakiel!” Nyanna, who had suddenly blushed, answered and when he looked down, he realized that his free hand had began to size up one of her breasts.

Soft, supple flesh. Good size. They’d swell nicely.

He bit his tongue.

“It’s in full effect already,” he went on and, with a heavy heart, he continued. “But I can’t have any witnesses, you see.”

He let out a long sigh while shaking his head.

It was a real shame. She wasn’t even putting up a fight, which made it even harder to strike at her, much less execute her.

Right now, he’d much rather mount her, but that’d be plain rape.

Arakiel was no rapist.

It was a shame, a real shame.

Nyanna was a pretty girl. He could…

Focus. Ratio only.

She was a witness.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you! Don’t kill me, please!” The young woman begged under tears and this time, they felt genuine.

“Arakiel, my love,” he suddenly heard Aurora say from behind. A hand of hers slipped around his waist, resting on his slightly blood-splattered belt. “If you fancy her, why not take her?”

“She charmed me,” Arakiel replied while his free hand kept traveling downwards. He wanted it to stop, but the magic inside him was bringing its full effect to bear against him now when it should’ve been nascent at most. A side effect from earlier, probably.

“I am a virgin! My bloodline traces back to King Cahir and his previous wife Ceara! I can give you many strong, healthy children!” Nyanna went on to say in a pleading, fearful tone, her eyes constantly searching his for anything she could cling to.

“I’m being like this because of the spell,” Arakiel went on to explain meanwhile, addressing Aurora without being able to avert his gaze from the count’s daughter.

He had managed to raise his weapon on the same level as that of her throat, but he was still hesitating.

If he took her, then he’d feel responsible for her. Besides, a man of his bloodline couldn’t just sire children left and right. No, descendants were only acceptable within the House’s framework – and after what Nyanna had done.

No, the only acceptable way was…

Arakiel shook his head, trying his best to cast off the influence. The grip on his dagger tightened. “It’ll fade, the spell. She’s too dangerous, especially right now.”

“It’s up to you, my love.” Aurora said in a supportive tone, adding. “But let me just say that I’d feel a lot more cherished if we had a maidservant to do all the menial tasks. Unlike Marianka, I find no joy in them.”

He was torn, undecided. Again.

Killing her in cold blood was wrong, not for what little she had done, but he was certain that he wouldn’t have any interest in another woman besides Aurora as soon as the spell faded.

More importantly, though, they were inside hostile territory and he had just killed a son of the ruling couple.

Killing a daughter would certainly not help his relations, but it could keep things under wraps long enough to leave.

Nyanna was saying something, but he barely registered it. Her eyes focused onto the bloodied dagger that he edged closer to her second by second.

It was no use, he had to make a decision.

Now.

Taking heart, Arakiel tightened the grip around the dagger’s hilt.

And then, he heard a familiar voice coming from the side.