Viscount Reidthorne wasn't good for much; he was a slimy, greedy, insatiable man who liked his women chained and his money under the table. He did, however, know how to pick people that would keep their heads down, and their mouths shut. The head butler Baron who managed most of his daily affairs was a competent man with no sense of his worth. Easily persuaded and entirely gullible, Baron proved perfect for Reidthorne to warp over the years into someone who would follow every order and never disobey.

Baron's obedience didn't stem from a place of evil in himself, but rather a combination of apathy and helplessness. Baron had always been under the thumb of power and knew what happened to those who disobeyed. Confined within the walls of the Reidthorne estate for years with rare trips outside its thorn-covered gates has a way of isolating a man from any hope of change, and setting root the way he suspects the world truly is. Such was the case for Baron, who had worked forty long years for the Viscount, and who had begun serving the family in his early teens before the current count had even been born.

Baron's thoughts had spun around his head all night like a horse carriage chasing an unreachable apple. A strange, androgynous man had broken into his lord's room after stealing the maid clothes off Jeanie, the poor girl. She had already gone through enough with the Viscount's constant harassment of her. To wake up in a closet with nothing but a spare sheet to wear back to her room…she was lucky nothing else happened. And what was he supposed to explain to the knights on shift to guard the lord's room? That their sudden collapse to the ground and rude awakening to nausea, headaches, and breaking and entering was 'of no concern?' In all his years, nothing like it.

Still, as was his duty, Baron accompanied the Viscount to his morning meal.

"He's a good old friend of mine," Reidthorne began, tearing wet chunks off a freshly cooked chicken wing. He had come down for breakfast earlier than usual today. "Wonderful guy; treat him with respect. The same you'd give me- exactly the same. Anything he wants to do, anything he wants to know, you help him out." He tossed a spit-soaked bone back onto his glistening, silver plate. "Is that understood?"

Baron bowed. He had never once met or heard of this friend. "It will be done as you say. Should I send off Miss Devine as well?"

A wave of the lord's hand while his other shoved a fistful of grapes into his mouth signaled approval. Devine was a popular, if not cheap, prostitute from one of the lord's favorite brothels. He often brought women home at night, had his way with them in the first unoccupied room of the mansion he could find while drunk, and then passed out for the night up in his comfier, safer upstairs quarters. Each morning over breakfast, Baron would ask if he wanted them 'sent off,' which was a polite way of getting the signal for whether to boot them to the curb.

The answer had always been yes, except for one case. A uniquely beautiful woman with a wispy form and taupe skin that shimmered with golden undertones when it hit the light, reminiscent of a worn, rocky outcropping inlaid with riches. Her eyes were dark as the natural tunnels of earth that chase through the soil, eventually outrunning the light. She seemed like the kind of person who had once been so much more, and that when he'd met her she'd been a shell of herself, torn apart by raging waves.

There wasn't often a day that passed where Baron didn't think of her- it was hard not to, given what she'd left behind.

Baron nodded to the Viscount and began his usual retreat towards the kitchen, before being stopped once again by a grunt from the lord which he knew meant 'I forgot something, but hold on, I'm still chewing.'

Redithorne swallowed hard. "Ah, that's right. I spoke with Sir Raven this morning before I came down, and he's right- there need to be some changes around here. Everyone is fired. Except you and the coachman. Need him to take me out on an errand to get those foul beast people. Get everyone else out by three o'clock at the latest. Give them twenty gold coins each and a recommendation letter. We fire people often enough to have tons of those already prewritten, yes?

When the Viscount had told him to be polite to the intruder last night, Baron felt he'd been hit with the brunt of a great sword. At this moment, the feeling reinvigorated two-fold, and Baron struggled to breathe. His next words came out as a pained whisper.

"I…even the cook?" Baron attempted to clarify, only to experience dizziness as the lord didn't bat an eye, continuing to eat the food of the man he was about to boot from his house.

"We will get new ones. Oh, and take this." He tossed a folded letter to the floor, which Baron bent down to pick up. Unfolding and looking it over showed neatly written instructions to visit two locations, a small apothecary's shop and the Swine's Haul Tavern both in Trevel to find and retrieve two individuals. "This job is for you. From Raven. Get to it right away, you can hire a coachmen to go get them- after you tell everyone to start packing of course." The Viscount laughed, and it sounded like something between a snort and a cough.

Baron knew something was terribly wrong. Nothing had been right since the break-in last night, no matter how much his lord tried to convince him otherwise that it was just a 'friend playing games'.

But still, Baron did nothing. It wasn't his place. He quelled any unease and bowed.

"It will be done as you say."

He'd send out a carriage to find 'Yiriel' and 'Diane' as requested in the instructions after he finished his morning rounds. He needed to walk through the estate first to inform everyone of their unfortunate, though perhaps fortunate, sudden termination. It would probably be welcome for Jeanie following last night's events. According to the head maid, she'd been hiding in the laundry room since dawn.

Today had already been a lot, but one more surprise awaited Baron in the kitchen.

"You have to see this-" The head chef came running, more confused and horrified than Baron had ever seen him, "Someone…something got into the Kaos meat."

Baron froze.

The Kaos. The monsters riddled with chaotic magic that had been encroaching upon the Southern forests of Sonhest, particularly at night. Fear and danger surrounding them led to severe restrictions regarding their hunting and usage, but the Viscount's penchant for trying new delicacies had led to more than a few underhanded deals to get the Holy Knights of the Church of Ysid to send their kills to his estate. The meat was widely propagandized to be completely inedible since, while incredibly tasty, incorrect consumption could easily cause death.

Koas were and are nothing to be messed with. They require careful, well-trained groups of soldiers to take down a single one due to their powerful, unpredictable abilities. Their meat is as dense with magic in death as in life, and eating pure, unfiltered power will cause the body to shut down in high amounts. The term used is Overrun, which describes the moment when magic begins to eat the body alive upon reaching critical density.

There had been approximately three pounds of Kaos meat stored away, which in total would be enough to kill five grown men. Possibly even ten.

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Baron leaned his head into his hands and stood still for a long time, praying to whoever might be listening that after today, he would be fired as well.

"…Baron? Sir?" The cook called to him, but Baron responded only with a sigh.

Elsewhere, in a lofty guest room within the mansion, a red-eyed figure picked out a strange piece of meat stuck between their teeth, infinitely confused about how it got there.

***

Last Yiriel had seen of Raven, they'd been headed towards the outreaches with an array of dangerous powders and liquids all concocted in her basement, and a freshly consumed dose of the voice-altering potion in his system. Her system? Raven was a woman but preferred to be seen as a man. That didn't surprise her. She knew firsthand how women got taken advantage of in this society; it was damn well easier to be a man.

For now, 'he' would work.

Since then, Yiriel had been working in her shop as usual. Business came and went. Part of her hoped that Raven would just forget about her and she could pretend this whole contract thing never happened. The smell of fresh herbs calmed her mind as newly picked leaves boiled out their tannins in a pot. At least for the moment, she was alone with her plants.

Yiriel breathed out, content.

Then came a knock at the door, followed by iron pushing against dirt floors.

"Hello," She began, putting on her customer-greeting smile, "Welcome to-" A pause. Her face fell. This wasn't a customer. A well-dressed footman stood in the doorway with a fancy carriage halted behind him. He glanced down at a sheet of paper, and then up at her.

"Are you Miss Yiriel?" He asked, looking her over like he was checking for something. She pulled her beanie down further.

"Who is asking?" She frowned. The man folded the paper and tucked it back into his coat pocket.

"I was told to inform you that a raven is waiting for you. Please, hop in the carriage."

'Shit.'

Yiriel rubbed two hands over her face, up and down in succession until her cheeks went red.

"Let me close up shop," She groaned. "I'll be out in a moment."

After locking the door behind her, Yiriel made herself comfy in the carriage's red feather-down seats. No point in worrying about where she was going since she wasn't allowed to say no. It seemed her bird overlord had need of her again as his contractual assistant. The bastard. Her head leaned up against the glass, and she kicked off her shoes, propping her feet up on the opposite side's seats.

She watched the world go by for some time, emptying her mind as the carriage made its way to northern Trevel before halting at a tavern with a pig's head sign outside of it. With no move from the footman to open the door for her, she realized this wasn't the final stop. So why...?

Her answer came when a stunning young human girl bolted out the front door, her fiery red hair glistening in the sun. The footman ran behind her but was unable to keep up with her athletic pace as she pulled open the carriage doors and leaped inside.

Yiriel coughed in surprise, yanking her feet off the seats where the girl moved to sit down.

"Ahem?" Yiriel said, seeing as her fellow rider didn't seem to notice her. Who was this?

They met eyes.

"Oh!" The girl yelped, jumping in her seat, "I apologize- I didn't realize someone else was going to be in here."

Yiriel grunted.

"Are you...also going to see Raven?" The girl asked, eyes sparkling.

Wait, could this be?

"What's your name?" Yiriel asked.

"Diane." She replied, stretching out a hand, "And yours?"

"...Yiriel." She admitted, deciding to at least be polite enough to shake hands. Just before their hands met, they both noticed the same thing at the same time.

The marks. They both had the marks on their palm. The sigil that had appeared after forming a contract of souls. Normally, as they both had learned, the sigil was barely visible. Something you'd have to hold just right in the light to see the outline of. Except, as Yiriel knew, when Raven was around.

Or in this case, she guessed, when another one of Raven's victims was around.

'Damn that bird-brain.'

Yiriel shook her head. "I'm sorry...he got you too, huh?"

Diane cocked her head, "Got me? Well, yes...oh my." She continued, eyeing over the design, "I haven't been able to get a good look at it until now. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Yiriel raised an eyebrow. Gorgeous was certainly a word. Not for it maybe, but a word. She couldn't deny how intricate it was though. Yiriel hadn't given it a second glance until now, since it only served as a stinging reminder of how she'd sold her freedom away.

An inked full moon graced the middle of her palm, gazing back at her, surrounded by intricate patterns of leathery bat wings. At the center of the moon was a rectangular crest outlined by drooping flowers resembling tearful, closed eyes. The crest itself was filled black except for a series of spots left white that all came together to compose the image of an upside-down crown, pierced by a bloody dagger.

'How pleasant.'

"Wow...to think that magic could create something like this." Diane cooed. Yiriel fought the urge to roll her eyes.

So this was the Diane Raven had told her she should introduce herself to. To be completely honest, Yiriel had no idea why Raven had made a contract with this girl. She seemed like any naive human girl working in Trevel, filled with big dreams and stuck as a barmaid. She also didn't seem to hold any negative feelings towards Raven.

"How did you...run into Raven?" Yiriel asked.

Diane smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "We met behind the bar, and Raven offered me a chance to pursue my dreams."

Yiriel waited for more.

"What about you?" Diane asked, moving on.

"Wait-" Yiriel paused, "That's it?"

"Mmm," She hummed, thinking to herself, a hand resting on her freckle-coated cheek. The carriage bumped as it began to cross out of the city and into the forest, headed northwest. "Where do you think we are headed?"

Yiriel frowned.

'Okay fine, be that way.'

"Who knows?"

She turned her head to look back out the window. Trees blurred into green and brown as they passed, weaving down roads entirely unfamiliar to her. She knew that nobility often used lesser-traveled paths to enter and leave the city, but even in her ten years here she'd never bothered to look for any. Then again, the only time she left the city was to head south for herbs. Given that they had gone north and not even hit the trade junction meant they were definitely on backroads.

Half an hour of silence passed between them, Yiriel trying to keep her cool as Diane kicked her feet in anticipation against the seat bottoms. They watched as well-lit paths just shy of civilization turned to twisting trails hidden in rows of thorny brush, dark thickets that didn't let light in, or out. The fingers of trees reached out and grabbed for the windows, their branches scraping along the glass.

Finally, a sudden gasp from Diane ended the torment. Yiriel looked in her direction, past her, and out the window.

'What the?'

"That..." Diane started, mouth agape.

"...Is a big ass house." Yiriel finished, crossing her arms. Diane's heart was beating from excitement and Yiriel's from her growing nerves.

Both girls kept their eyes locked on the well-trimmed gardens and sharp armaments of the sheltered estate as the carriage entered through the iron gates and down the cobblestone path. All that Raven saw the previous evening they did too, but this time in broad daylight and strangely barren. No servants walked through doors carrying tools and laundry, no guards stood watch by the entrance. It was just them, the carriage, and the looming mansion before them.

And, now that Yiriel looked closer, it was them and another cart unloaded at the door. It appeared to be a transportation wagon for goods to be bought and sold, but underneath the tarp were several large, empty boxes with their lids strewn about, and no goods in sight.

There was no way this was Raven's house. Someone who lived here wouldn't be so confused about basic things or need to take a bath in her house. Where exactly were they?

When the carriage stopped, the footman opened the door and helped both girls out. Diane took his hand, her head spinning as she tried to get a look at everything. Yiriel ignored his outstretched hand, stomping on the stone below. The carriage and the footmen both took off back into the deep woods, leaving the two alone at the grand entrance to the estate.

The doors creaked open, revealing an older man in a well-kept black and white suit. His back had a slight hunch from years of work, and his hands trembled with age, but his eyes were bright with intellect. He lowered his head, an apologetic smile on his face.

"Greetings, I am Baron, the head butler of this estate. You are currently in the dwelling of Viscount Reidthorne. Are you Miss Yiriel and Miss Diane?"

Yiriel hesitated, but Diane beat her to a decision.

"Yes! I am Diane. This is Yiriel." She bounced up in her tan dress, her apron still covered in food and beer stains.

Yiriel gave up on being cautious. That wasn't going to be an option with little Miss Eager over there.

"Please, come in." Baron offered, opening the door to let them through, "I suspect Sir Raven is waiting for you."

With no way backward and the carriage that had brought them there already far back into the twisting, viny woods, the two followed the butler through the gilded doors and into the foyer of the Reidthorne Estate.