Aurora scrambled to her feet as best as she could, but the lack of soul inside her made it difficult to keep her senses in a working state. Her earlier glimpse of the ice mage had been sheer luck as her eyes were not yet failing her.

Over there, just across this garden in the darkness, her Lord lay in dire need of her assistance, yet she had trouble just standing up.

How could she assist her Lord like this?

He had been vigilant even to the end, but their covenant had not yet deepened enough. Arakiel was still just a fledgling, a potential yet unrealized, a little Lord.

None of that mattered.

What mattered was that she got up in order to help him.

He had fought to the end and she was certain that his will remained unbroken, but his feeble body had given out.

It was her fault, she had fatigued him out. Now she had to fix it.

But how?

Focus, Aurora reminded herself.

On her knees, she tried to push herself up, but her exertions had been too much. Her muscles cried out in protest, refusing to heed her command. Arakiel had taken too much soul.

Soul.

Aurora focused onto it, onto her own fire.

Over there, her Lord lay, remnants of her own soul inside him.

There, she felt it – and he had not restricted her access.

A glint of hope.

Aurora called out to her soul’s fire, beckoned it back into her and through the darkness, she saw thin strands of golden fire waft over towards her.

Slowly, gently.

She pulled harder, beckoned it to be faster.

Her Lord needed her.

Reaching for the strands, she greedily sucked it in and with her fire, she rose to her feet.

Arakiel had nearly used up everything they had left.

Another thought crossed her mind.

Nearly. Nearly everything… except, except for the shard she had snatched from him, the one that hadn’t fully crumbled to dust after she had prepared that weeping soldier girl for a new dawn.

Aurora protruded it from underneath her clothes and guided just a tiny bit of her own soul into it. The white, gold and red began to glow softly in the dark that more or less fully surrounded her. There was even less gold than red or white, but it was some gold.

She stumbled her way over towards her Lord, over soil, grass, then finally stone. Somewhere in the distance, behind these large, looming structures full of black, there were noises and glimpses, flashes of light.

She reached him, finally.

There were two dead people next to him, their life’s essence having spilled onto the stone underneath. And the ice mage, the woman who seemed unconscious, a thin white foam having formed on her lips.

A brief thought crossed her mind, one that asked whether her Lord had a preference to guiding women to a new dawn, or was it because Aurora had intervened on Nyanna’s behalf?

Aurora shoved the thought aside, feeling ashamed for even having them.

It mattered not in light of the situation.

She approached Arakiel.

Her Lord knelt upright, his head fallen back. Up to the end, he had fought against the fatigue.

The sight of him filled her with pride.

He was such an excellent Lord, he would surely shelter her for now and eternity.

But right now, he needed her help.

Somewhere around her, people were fighting still, but she cared not.

“O Lord of mine,” Aurora whispered as she focused her remaining soul into her shard and the left hand that gripped it. The words came without her giving any thought to it. “Forgive me for not obeying your order, but you are not my Conqueror yet.”

She didn’t know what she was doing, but she felt as though she should give purpose to the light she caught. In order to do that, she couldn’t tap the energies within, she had to release them.

Her grip tightened while only her left fist burned in golden fire, although she was quite certain that her own eyes were also proclaiming her status.

What kind of status she could not say, only that they did.

Several strands of golden hair began to obstruct her vision as she gave her all to break the crystalline structure and under great strain and with lots of effort, she finally managed to make some cracks and from cracks came a rift, a rift that gave birth to a faint ray of the sun’s morning light that escaped out into the darkness, but instead of dispersing and giving itself over to the dark, it coiled around her left arm, the limb that had freed it.

Her soul instinctively rushed back into her body, leaving her with nothing but the proof of her…

She didn’t know how to finish the thought, but it mattered not.

“O little lost light, forgive me for calling upon you in this time and this place, but your purpose is not found in its supposed destination.” She whispered affectionately while the ray coiled towards her body and then over towards her right arm as though it was listening to her plea.

Such a fragile little ray of gold, red and white, yet so brave.

“Will you lend me your strength?” Aurora asked calmly, her own worries dissipating. If this little ray was brave, then she could be brave as well.

The light headed over towards her chest, right above her heart, where it rested, waiting.

Affirmation.

“Thank you,” Aurora whispered as she gently covered the ray with her hands.

Then, she ever so gently pressed it into her and as she did, the soul inside rushed out, feeding on the little light the moment it entered her body.

A wondrous feeling began to spread throughout her, one that left her in a brief but pure state of utter bliss. Her body quivered for the tiniest moment and then came the sense of loss, of confusion.

There should be something else, but there was nothing.

She was incomplete, but a tiny fragment.

She was…

Aurora repeatedly tapped her cheeks to get her mind to focus on something else and it worked, it actually worked!

It did not matter what she was or was not.

Only her helping her Lord counted right now.

Focus, she told herself, reminded herself – admonished herself.

It hadn’t been much, for the ray had been so tiny and feeble, most of its gold having been used up already.

But… it had been something.

Aurora drew upon her soul and wished upon her Lord and through a kiss, she conveyed it, made it happen.

While most of her soul dissolved to fulfill her wish, she fed the last remaining bits to her Lord for it was his task to safeguard her.

She could only guide the way, but he had to walk it.

Arakiel’s body briefly began to glow in a soft golden light and when it vanished, he opened his eyes that were of a deep green color while the edges of his irises held a golden sheen, a halo.

He immediately reached for her as she collapsed into his arms, asking in a slightly perplexed and incredibly strained voice. “Aurora!?”

“My Lord, your people have need of you yet,” she whispered as most of her sense once again scrambled, but her sight remained, for it was locked onto him.

He gently picked her up and nodded. His arms were trembling, but he pushed through the fatigue.

Instead of returning to the battle, however, he headed back to the town proper and on the way, he found some of his soldiers that had just finished fighting off Middles that had probably ambushed them.

Arakiel first inquired about their status and when they reported two casualties and injuries of varying grades, he cursed and divided the banner. Two people were to get backup from the town proper while the others were to split up evenly and assist those who were still fighting.

They saluted and carried out his order right away while he once again cursed Ezekiel for not being here.

Aurora had to agree – the fact that Selene’s master hadn’t joined the assault could almost be interpreted as a dereliction of duty, for he was part of Arakiel’s planeswalking party. Furthermore, he was the only other combatant.

While she internally covered Selene with a myriad of bad words for being so utterly useless, her Lord sought out something specific since he ran as though he had a goal in mind.

A little later, they joined another group of members of the Smokeless Host that were combating a small group of mages and fighters.

Despite her Lord’s fatigue, he ended up being the tiebreaker that his men needed and through it, they routed and overwhelmed the Middle soldiers.

Arakiel collapsed after the fight and he could only move on because one of his soldiers fed him their share of a healing potion, but the man did so with pride, claiming that it was an honor to fight side by side with their Lord Executor.

A little later, Arakiel and his men began to chase after other specific goals that she couldn’t quite make out as her body operated on the tiniest wisp of flame.

Despite this, she still witnessed Arakiel and his men assisting in several more locations where their arrival ended up tipping the balance in the Smokeless Host’s favor.

At some point, although Aurora couldn’t tell when, they returned to the space in front of the duke’s keep. There, Akili sat on the ground, his sister Aisha resting on his lap. The female jinnum was bleeding heavily and despite her bronze skin, she seemed extremely pale.

And then, Arakiel returned a smidgen of fire to her and from one moment to another, a part of her senses returned, notably her hearing.

Arakiel demanded a status update, with Akili being the first to give the report as he kept stroking his pale sister’s face. Her eyes were closed and Aurora couldn’t tell from a glance whether she was dead or not.

The Middle’s ambush had cost six veterans their life. They gave their life to safeguard the jinnum right to the end and it was only because of their heroism that Zimraan’s children pulled through. They had killed most of the attackers, but some had retreated back into the noble’s quarter.

The other present captains gave similar reports, although their death were usually in the one to three range. Nonetheless, the Middle ambush had cost over fifteen members of the Smokeless Host their life while thrice that number was injured, some grievously. In return, they had killed over eighty noble combatants while about half that number was still hiding somewhere in the district; nearly all of their enemies had been mages.

It spoke to the warriors’ skill, but the ratio was not sustainable according to Arakiel. He further queried about the duke, but none had an answer which seemed to annoy her Lord, but there was little they could do right now.

For now, they were to focus on getting the wounded to relative safety while securing the rest of the city.

On the morrow, they would tackle the noble district once more.

Their opponents needed time to lick their wounds as well apparently, for none of the members of the Smokeless Host were attacked on the way out.

Once outside, Arakiel, who was teetering on the brink, headed back to the first central square. Two of his men acted as support for him and Aurora. There, they found Lady Mellia while there was still no trace of Ezekiel.

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Arakiel’s little sister showed an unusual amount of worry when she spotted them and then profusely apologized for not being able to put another enchantment onto him, even mixing up her manners of speech in the process. In the end, she suggested that they should get some rest.

Given their condition, Arakiel agreed while the soldiers that were with him assured their Lord Executor that everything was under control.

Horses were brought to them and they rode back to the army’s camp which wasn’t too far away. Two soldiers guarded them on the way back just in case.

Once there, the three of them basically just fell onto their bedroll, most likely noting internally that a bath could wait until tomorrow. Aurora, at least, thought so.

Aurora rose several hours later just as the first rays of the rising sun made their presence known. She felt perfectly refreshed and while she usually preferred to have her Lord attend, she didn’t do so this time as he appeared as though he truly needed the rest.

Outside her tent, she was greeted with a spotless sky and cool air that scented of meadows mixed with grease and meat.

She immediately spotted Ezekiel and Selene who were sitting close to a campfire, roasting some little slices of meat. If this wasn’t fate, then Aurora did not know what was.

Arakiel’s friend, at least that’s how Aurora had categorized him for a while now, turned her way as she approached. His amethyst-colored eyes looked her over and he began to raise an eyebrow.

Looking down, she noticed quite a bit of dried blood on her favorite wrap, but it didn’t bother her right now.

“Lord Ezekiel, Selene – good morning,” Aurora greeted politely and both replied with an appropriate phrase. She continued on without delay.

“Please follow me. My words are not meant to reach servants’ ears.”

Ezekiel’s expression darkened a bit and his slight smile curled downwards. His reply came out overly hostile. “I wasn’t aware I need to follow your orders, immortal.”

It took her a little by surprise, but Aurora held his gaze and clarified her statement. “I made a request. You needn’t entertain it, but I strongly suggest you do.”

“And why should I?” Ezekiel asked, maintaining his hostile stance.

“Because you are becoming a liability,” Aurora claimed in a calm tone which caused him to jolt up and approach her.

Behind him, Selene glared daggers at Aurora, but she cared little.

She did not shy away when Ezekiel stopped right in front of her, his lean, athletic frame still easily towering over her.

“What did you just say, immortal?” He asked in a low, threatening voice.

“Your negligence and pettiness nearly cost my Lord his life, Ezekiel.” Aurora went on, never once breaking eye contact with him while the morning sun caressed her left side with gentle warmth.

“You will address me with respect, slave!” The blonde man hissed and although his posture had shifted as though he wanted to discipline her, she was not afraid in the slightest.

He would not dare to raise his hand against her.

“I will show you proper respect when you have earned it, Ezekiel.” Aurora explained calmly, adding. “Ever since we departed al-Aliriq, you have given me little reason to do so.”

“I should whip you bloody for this, slave.” Ezekiel threatened, but she only chuckled in response.

“I wasn’t aware that Ezekiel il Impyrea, Slaver’s Guild employee number 1361, was such a petty man that mere facts could rile him up so,” Aurora pointed out in an amusing and accusing manner.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have Arakiel spank you raw for offending me in such a manner,” Ezekiel threatened in a truly pathetic way.

Threats held no meaning when they could not be backed up – and this man would never raise his hand against her. His respect for what Arakiel represented was too high for that.

“Because my Lord agrees in part,” Aurora replied right away and then pointed out. “I offered you a way to save face, but if you wish for me to speak my piece of mind, then we shall do so here.”

“I dare you to,” Ezekiel, having thoroughly lost his cool, challenged.

She took him up on it.

“You should’ve been there several hours ago, Ezekiel. If you had, then 15 veteran warriors of the Smokeless Host might still be alive.”

“So you are aware that I am capable!” He pointed out in a smug tone.

“You could be, Ezekiel. You could be.” Aurora corrected and added. “But you were not there. All your capabilities are worthless when they aren’t there when they are needed.”

“You’re walking on eggshells, little immortal. I am this close to…” Ezekiel whispered threateningly, his fingers outlining a few centimeters at most.

But his threats found no fertile soil to grow in.

“You are embarrassing yourself, Ezekiel.” Aurora stated matter-of-factly, her eyes briefly going past him, towards Selene whose expression was one of internal conflict.

“Excuse me?” Arakiel’s ‘friend’ asked as though he hadn’t heard correctly.

“How can you claim to be Selene’s Lord?” Aurora went on, taking her gloves off. “She is obviously deeply distressed by everything that surrounds you and her.”

“Selene!” Ezekiel barked and the silver-haired, silver-eyed seraphim hurried over in an instant, positioning herself next to him with eyes cast down.

But her footing was a little uneven and her breathing too short. This was a different kind of obedience than the one Nyanna developed for Arakiel.

“Who is your Master, Selene?” Ezekiel asked in a commandeering tone that held a menacing undertone.

“You are, Master Ezekiel,” the silver seraphim responded in a slightly trembling voice.

“Are you deeply distressed, slave?” Ezekiel inquired further, his tone turning sharp and accusing.

“I would not dare trouble you with my worthless thoughts, Master.” Selene went on to reply at which point Aurora felt like she needed to intervene lest Ezekiel break everything in his fit of anger.

“I think you have regressed,” Aurora muttered in genuine surprise and… fear. She then turned to the silver-eyed seraphim and addressed her directly. “Forgive me, Selene. I was wrong about you, about both of you.”

“What are you saying, slave?” Ezekiel queried harshly and Aurora couldn’t decide which of the two she should focus.

“Your frail covenant is close to breaking apart,” Aurora found herself saying, although she wasn’t certain that was the case. It was just how it appeared to her.

“Again this nonsense, what are you talking about?” Ezekiel replied somewhat perplexed, but there was a trace of worry in his voice, which could only mean that he wasn’t entirely lost to reason.

“As I said, I cannot claim with certainty to know on what foundation your covenant was established, but I feel I should explain to you how it works for my Lord and I.” Aurora went on and Selene’s body began to tremble ever so slightly, and it wasn’t because of Ezekiel grabbing her chin.

“I have no need of your venomous words, immortal,” Ezekiel then immediately blocked, adding. “How Arakiel domesticates his immortal is up to him, although I strongly disagree with his take! But I will not allow anyone to tell me how to tame my Selene!”

Ezekiel turned to the side, facing Selene whose cheeks had begun to a blush a little at his words. Surprisingly, her trembling had stopped.

He tightened his grip while recounting his tale in almost affectionate manner. “I was the genealogist who traced her ancestry, selecting her specifically among her sisters! I was the driving force who came up with the plan of abducting her and I, the ‘pathetic slaver’, discovered the weakness in the Selenyean’s procession! I was the ugly cripple who snuck past the bridal guards and entered her carriage by myself!”

Ezekiel’s hand reached for the silver collar around Selene’s neck. He lightly tapped it as he went on, his voice filled with pride. “I, the maimed, noncombatant cripple, overwhelmed the bride and made her submit to me on the very mattress that might’ve served as a bridal bed!”

And then, Selene suddenly spoke up, saying in an abashed whisper. “A worthy trophy…”

Ezekiel froze mid-motion while his eyes stared right at Selene who then carefully looked up, her silver eyes barely meeting his, but they did – and the gaze held.

“You called me a worthy trophy for the nascent god.” Selene went on in a low, slightly embarrassed voice. “It was very dark, you had just pushed me onto the ground. I couldn’t see you properly, could only feel your muscles while the light outlined your face’s shape.”

Ezekiel was wise enough to not interrupt her now. Aurora would’ve smacked him had he tried to – with her mind at least. She dared not raise her hand against anyone.

“Your eyes’ gleam, however, I saw. Such a unique color! And your muscles, your scent of blood and sweat, the way you held me down as you fastened a rope around my neck, telling me how I’m a worthy trophy for the nascent god in a tone that reflected that sentiment – how could I not submit, given the alternative?” Selene asked out aloud and then chuckled bitterly.

“And then I woke up in your hideout and saw you… saw what you were.”

“What was I?” Ezekiel asked in undisguised curiosity. He seemed truly ignorant on this subject.

“An ugly cripple with an attitude, not the handsome god-to-be I imagined.” Selene went on to say as she lowered her eyes once more.

“Say that again!?”

“But it’s the truth, Master.” Selene returned meekly, but affirmatively.

“The argent collar you’re wearing suggests otherwise.” The slaver answered, but Selene shook her head.

“Master, you had been training me every single day for over a year when I submitted to you in front of the Transcended. I was not raised to be strong-willed – and you are an excellent trainer! Your only flaw was your appearance and your physical weakness.”

“Was?” Ezekiel asked to clarify.

Selene’s gaze turned pleading. “Master, what else must I do!?”

“You must do nothing but be a little obedient slave, Selene. Listen and learn.” Ezekiel stated matter-of-factly, regressing to his oppressive self.

Aurora saw Selene in a new light when she did not shy away and instead addressed Ezekiel from what might be the bottom of her heart. “Master, what else must I do to make you understand that I am yours wholly?! I am a worthy trophy to adorn one such as you! You are handsome, you are strong, you have an excellent future ahead of you, one surely leads to the divinity you so crave!”

He eyed her as though he waited for her to make her point.

“You called me a worthy trophy, so let me be that trophy!” Selene concluded in a pleading tone, explaining further. “I was specifically raised to serve the Solarian prince without causing any friction!”

“I don’t see the connection,” Ezekiel countered as he possessively reached for her chest.

“You promised to make me your concubine, Master! You promised to uphold my honor!” Selene protested without breaking her posture.

Aurora did not intervene, for this talk they were having seemed extremely important although the outcome might swing both ways. She was just a little curious where the pendulum would swing.

Around them, she noticed several people briefly looking, but since the two were thankfully speaking in the lingua kalans, most wouldn’t get the message. They ended up going their way while Nyanna and her sisters were smart enough to stay out of sight.

“You’re still harping on about that?” Ezekiel asked, seemingly surprised.

“You leave me no freedom at all, Master!” Selene continued, most likely getting to the true issue. “You’ve taken me in body, soul and mind, yet you still don’t trust me!”

“Because I don’t, immortal.” Ezekiel stated matter-of-factly and given how Selene recoiled, she hadn’t expected it.

Aurora, too, was surprised – but this just might explain why things were as they are.

Ezekiel closed in on her and gripped her chin once again, saying in a low and threatening tone. “Your kind cannot be trusted, Selene. You can be controlled, although some argue that even that is impossible.”

The silver seraphim quickly fell back into her habit while her Master quickly corrected any mistakes he found in her posture.

“To this day, you still make mistakes on such fundamentals, Selene. Others would’ve probably turned you to mincemeat already, but I am a patient man. You are obedient, but only because you love me, or rather, what I represent.”

“That’s not–” Selene tried to protest, but he put his finger onto her lips, sealing it.

“You draw your worth from me, Selene.” Ezekiel pointed out and then added. “Which is unseemly for a slave. You should take pride in your service first and foremost.”

“If you wanted a doll, Master – then why did you allow me to keep my sense of self?” Selene suddenly asked and this might be the single most important question that needed to be asked in Aurora’s estimation.

“Because I firmly believe that every slave not only deserves to be happy, but that they should perform to the strengths of their innate skills.” Ezekiel returned.

“Then why not just elevate me, Master? I am your argent already – and most argents are concubines, whether enslaved or merely in service.” Selene requested, asked meekly.

“You are truly dense, Selene,” Ezekiel replied while shaking his head. It was a statement, not meant in a derogatory way as far as Aurora could tell.

Nonetheless, she found this whole exchange quite fascinating.

“How so, Master?”

“What have I been training you in for the past month?” Ezekiel queried.

“Bookkeeping, mathematics, laws, languages and the like – what need have I of this?” Selene recounted and then asked in a perplexed tone.

“You have some brains, girl.” Ezekiel answered while lightly flipping Selene’s forehead. “It’d be a waste to merely reduce you to a concubine who only services me in bed.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I will be unable to keep working for the guild as soon as I return. Not only am I likely a wanted criminal in three of the five Eternal Cities at this point, but I’m a planeswalker now. That means I will own property – and that brings expenses.” Ezekiel went on and then lightly patted the silver-haired seraphim’s head. Selene stared at him dumbfounded, but her white wings had begun to flutter ever so lightly, as though she was truly happy about something.

“Since my power is dependent on you, I will bring you along wherever I go, Selene – and I intend for you to be useful all the time, not just when the sun goes down.”

Selene lightly cocked her head as though she still didn’t get it.

“I’m training you to become more than a mere concubine or maid, Selene. You will become my assistant and I want you to take pride in that first and foremost.”

The Selenyean princess’s wings hang low almost right away. She then looked at Ezekiel in a hurt manner. “But… I am argent!” She objected loudly, reminded him. “Why should I do the menial work of an aes or a lowly slave?”

From one moment to another, Ezekiel began to chuckle heartily as he let go of Selene.

And then he burst into laughter.

Aurora eyed him, unsure what was so funny about the whole situation. She looked over to Selene, who still seemed solely fixated onto her Master.

When he came down a little, his expression changed from one moment to another and he pulled Selene close while his hand wandered beneath her dress.

The perplexed seraphim blushed and subconsciously took on a demure posture once again.

Unlike last time, Ezekiel didn’t seem to find any flaws, or he didn’t correct them right away.

His voice turned dark, authoritative with a slight hint of challenge. “You wish to define your worth over me? Very well, your Highness. Then I’ll treat you not as a seraphim, but as the imperial immortal that you are.”

From one moment to another, Selene’s entire posture changed. When the earlier attendance had been born from fear, then it now seemed to grow from something else. Anticipation? Desire? Excitement?

Aurora couldn’t tell, but when Ezekiel hand wandered upwards, the Selenyean girl’s wings slowly opened in accordance while she had notable trouble suppressing her emotions. When the amethyst-eyed man then lightly lifted Selen’s chin while his own eyes narrowed to predatory slits.

“Come, princess. Let’s reevaluate you once again.”

Ezekiel turned around and marched the Selenyean away, not noticing how Selene’s eyes had begun to glow with a silver halo which gave a sharp contrast to her flushed cheeks and face. And yet, Aurora clearly heard the seraphim whisper a sentence as she followed him with pride filling her chest. Her entire demeanor had changed from one moment to another, it was almost surreal.

“I obey, Master of mine.”

Aurora watched the two retreat into his own tent and then, contently, she went out to catch the dawn for her Lord, feeling pretty pleased with herself.

Without her guidance, the two might’ve broken apart and that would’ve been unacceptable.

After all, they were a valuable asset to Arakiel, a tool through which he could expert power.