How great your splendor, Ginmae, who grants us the blood in our veins. You are child of the heavens, and we your humble servants. Shelter us in your divinity. You are our anchor immortal.

--- Deku prayer

The riders came in the night. No moon shone over the Deku citadel and its wall stood staunch against the starry wintry gales. The clattering of horse hooves in the courtyard made the stillness sound naked, the air defenseless.

Hearing the horses pace, Alize splayed her fingers on the velvet cushion beneath her. The wood it covered creaked ever so slightly as she shifted. Under her white shroud, her skin prickled. Cold enveloped the citadel, but like anything resembling life, the wind languished once it passed the stone walls. The silence it left did nothing to conceal Alize’s uneven breathing. Nevertheless, she summoned her courage and stole to her window bars. She could not help glancing behind her as she peeled back the shutter.

Iedaja dozed on the sofa, forever uneasy in her slumber.

She chose her forevers, Alize derided in the silence. Guilt washed over her almost immediately. Iedaja had long suffered, and now Alize bore part of that responsibility. Still, Alize prayed her transgression would pass unnoticed.

Below, seven riders amassed in the citadel courtyard. The horses halted, their breaths rising like nervous clouds. One horse kept stamping his back legs repeatedly without relaxing his haunches.

The whole winter, Alize had never seen the Deku accept guests. She studied the riders until one happened to glance upwards. His face bore intricate scars, etched in his skin like rivulets in dry lands.

Alize drew back from the window.

Kogaloks. So some had survived the Temple battle.

But the instant Alize leaned in once more, the latch on her cell door clattered. The shrouded Deku attendant did not notice Alize fumbling the window closed as he strode towards Iedaja. He woke her brusquely and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Alize,” Iedaja spoke, smoothing the veil over her face. It hid nothing from Alize. Though the Deku shroud revealed only the cataracts in Iedaja’s eyes, Alize knew Iedaja from her voice, recognized her by the way her whole body shuddered whenever Viken addressed her. “Alize, you must come now.”

Despite Iedaja’s gentle tone, her words held no question. Tonight there would be no smothered laughter, no secrets whispered, no stolen sweets, nothing for Alize to take solace in. Tonight already stank of Viken.

The stone passageways of the Deku citadel accumulated the winter’s chill and restless shadows cowered in its corners. Alize bundled her fingers in her robe’s sleeves as she followed Iedaja and the attendant into the uncertain darkness. The decay permeating the stones smelled of unreaped meadows after an early frost. To Alize, the entire Deku citadel was only winter.

The party did not pause in the portrait gallery. Everywhere candlewicks wallowed in wax, their flames nearly spent. The dim light flickered on the paintings, illuminating the proud gazes of each venerated martyr.

During Alize’s first weeks in the citadel, she had preferred the portrait gallery over all the places Viken allowed her to visit, but some sour, unspoken disquietude soon repelled her. The stares and smiles of the Ginmae ancestors began appearing uninvited in her dreams. The Deku had rendered their likeness with staggering tranquility, their eyes warm, their gazes soft.

It marked an affront to their collective fate.

The dissonance haunted Alize. Some nights she woke to a lingering vision of life writhing, trapped, hopeless, drowning in an eternity of a dark, frigid sea.

The tormented souls of the Ginmae, held hostage in the citadel.

Now as Alize passed though the gallery, she kept her gaze downwards. She could not bear to confront the portraits’ gentle smiles. Their imprisonment was far worse than hers.

Fear not, little mouse, Iedaja hummed on the nights Alize awoke drenched in sweat. You have been blessed with these visits from the sacred ancestors. They only want you to learn love.

Alize shifted her focus to the footsteps of the Deku striding before her. His slippers made no sounds on the stones, and his white shroud muffled his every move. The Deku assassin training was as formidable as all the Hrumi training.

The stagnant air chilled as the party approached the final doorway. Here the walls sweat cobwebs of ice. On the doorframe, a halite mineral was encased in bronze, like an ornamental crystal, but no natural crystal pulsed such blue light. Alize averted her eyes.

Moving closer, she braced herself. All the doorways in the citadels housed Ginmae souls, and Alize always felt a certain agony when she crossed the threshold. Whether she could feel the souls or not, it was discomfort enough to know they were there, suspended in torment and a certain brutality of consciousness. Alize drew a breath as she passed through.

When she emerged into the night, she inhaled in relief, even gratitude. Here she felt dirt under her slippers instead of stone, here she could stare up into the night sky and imagine counting the new stars, as she and Hesna had used to during cold nights in the west. Of course, there had never been so many stars as there were now. Their light washed over Alize’s white shroud like pity.

Though still within the confines of the citadel wall, the courtyard was the largest space she was ever permitted to visit. Unlike the portrait gallery, where Iedaja had happily accompanied Alize for entire days, the Deku reserved the courtyard to award Alize for good behavior.

She had not been outside in three weeks.

For the thousandth time, Alize fought her desire to remove the white shroud Viken made her wear, to let the memory of freedom rush against her pallid cheeks. But she had heard Iedaja’s admonishments a thousand times already. It’s disrespectful to all of us.

As if sensing Alize’s thoughts, Iedaja reached out to grasp her hand, whispering a hush as one would to a babe. She was the only stalwart to help Alize with her struggles. They both knew too well the consequences of angering Viken again.

He stood before the entry to the Deku sanctuary. The doorway was adorned with tiny carved figurines huddled around the frame. The passing centuries had eroded their delicate features, leaving them as knots of emaciated limbs grasping at their positions in the stone, the last representations of Ginmae humanity slowly ground to dust. They were as faceless as the Deku themselves. Seventeen salt minerals were cast in the doorway, each its own discordant flickering blue.

Though Viken wore the same white robe as the other Deku, Alize knew him by his stance alone. He kept his fists clenched and his elbows bent outwards, as if his entire body sneered at his surroundings. His billowing robes made him appear larger and fluid. He kept his gaze towards Alize unyielding.

“Alize, come,” Viken commanded.

Alize had avoided speaking to him since ending her hunger strike. Now she glowered under his renewed attention and took only the smallest step forward. They both knew Viken held all the power, but that provided Alize myriad occasions to defy it.

Viken flicked his fingers and two arms seized Alize on either side, dragging her forward though she dug her heels into the dirt underfoot. When they deposited her before Viken, she swore she would not flinch from him this time. And she could sense Iedaja somewhere behind her, holding her breath and praying for Alize’s patience. For her sake, Alize set her jaw and tried to temper her rancor. Because Alize was under Iedaja’s care, Viken made of show of punishing her too for any transgressions. It was Iedaja’s strangled cries that had finally ended Alize’s hunger strike.

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But Viken waved Alize to the side, gesturing instead to the riders. “These Kogalok Soul Eaters come to offer the Deku a truce. Like you, Alize, they placed their trust in the wrong people. Tonight you will witness our compassion. It will bear well for you to remember, in time.” Viken bowed lowly to the Kogalok riders.

A single man dismounted. Mud caked his boots and the leather rubbed as he walked. Its stylized patterns mimicked the red welts swarming his hands and neck. His winter furs hung uncured, large holes gaping where the flesh rotted. His wore his humanity tenuously.

His was the first human face Alize had seen in months, though his skin nearly drowned under his disfigurements. One side of his mouth curled upwards into a scar that reached a shredded ear. It twisted his mouth into a permanent smile that contrasted with his furrowed brows.

The powdered snow underfoot fluttered with each step the Kogalok took towards Viken. His gaze stayed locked on the narrow gap in Viken’s shroud that revealed the Deku leader’s icy blue eyes.

Alize cast surreptitious glances at the other Kogaloks for any hints to their intentions. They were all of them Soul Eaters. It was surely a testament to their task’s commitment that that they did not send the Soulless.

Iedaja appeared beside Alize. “Look, little mouse,” she spoke as timidly as the starlight, “Look behind them.”

Alize blinked her eyes wide in disbelief. Behind the Kogaloks, great torches flanked the massive citadel gates. They stood open, welcoming the world’s outer darkness.

“This may be your best chance.” Iedaja whispered.

Alize’s heartbeat quickened. Beyond the wall she could see the jagged branches and elongated limbs of the forest for the first time since she had entered the gate at the autumn’s end.

The Deku had found her shattered after the events at the Temple Battle. Even now, Alize could not precisely recount how she had defeated the Kogalok Conjurer. That memory burned with heat and agony too thick to penetrate. Despite Viken’s demands and Iedaja’s gentle entreaties, she could not untangle her memories to recreate the phenomenon that had propelled her body across an entire valley.

Not that she would obey Viken’s demands if she could. Her muddled memory of her body aflame offered more deterrence than she could overcome even if she believed Viken worthy of the privilege.

Iedaja had found her, clothed her, and guided her east with the Deku caravan. Only to help you, little mouse. But as her mind returned, Alize had spurned the caravan’s company. When she had finally entered the citadel, she had done so with her hands bound and her strength sorely tested.

For all Vicken’s claims towards Alize’s welfare, he never inquired after her health. Instead, he cajoled, then urged, then demanded Alize to summon the echoes again. But those directives had ceased with her hunger strike. And anyway, both Iedaja and Viken suspected that Alize’s affinity with the echoes had been tied to Alize’s magic.

Her precious, lost magic.

The magic was no longer hers. Iedaja had apologized profusely for her hastiness in confiscating it. I would never have done it, little mouse, if I had known you then as I know you now. Iedaja’s action had irreversibly blended Alize’s magic with her own. Now if the forest spoke, only Iedaja could listen, but she promised she heard nothing.

Alize watched the trees bustling at the gate. They were silent to her as the stones upholding the walls of her prison. Still she inhaled deeply, wondering if she caught the scent of cedar. Even a mute forest felt like bright daylight compared to the night of the Deku citadel. She did not need Iedaja’s mutterings beside her to remember how highly she valued her freedom.

Viken’s voice drew her attention back to the scene before her. “On behalf of the Deku, I accept your truce.”

The Kogalok halted directly before Viken and bent to his knee. “Let us work together to rid the world of Arouah.”

Arouah. Alize swallowed. So it is true. The monster lives.

But at the same moment Viken grasped the prostrate man’s skull with straining fingers and slammed his palm against his ally’s heart.

The agony of the Kogalok’s screams rattled Alize’s bones. Though the entire process took scarcely four heartbeats, it lasted lifetimes too long. A soultrussing. The body gurgled like a vestige spring as Viken drained him of his very essence. Alize could see the salt mineral flashing white in Viken’s hand where he pressed it to the man’s chest.

It was the first Deku soultrussing Alize had seen. It ranked much more visceral than the Hrumi procedure that each initiate underwent willingingly. This was why the Hrumi had volunteers and Deku had only victims.

Before the Kogalok crumpled to the frozen ground, the remaining six riders reared up on their horses.

Viken brandished the glowing halite in his glove. “We are Deku!” Viken roared, “We have no need of your aid!”

The world seemed to move in slow motion as the mounted Kogaloks turned to the gate. From their center, the remaining horse panicked and bolted towards the Deku lines.

“Now Alize!” Iedaja’s voice almost became audible.

But Alize needed no encouragement. She swallowed the bile in her throat and dashed forward, her eyes chasing the horse as he gathered speed. Viken shouted behind her, but still she reached for the reigns. The first time she grasped them, the horse wrenched them from her palms.

Alize could hear Iedaja screaming. Now running, she caught the reigns a second time with a tighter grip. The leather cut deep into her skin as the horse fought her but Alize held fast with sheer force of will. The horse reared up and a Deku grabbed Alize’s robes. She kicked him away and devoted her strength to pull herself onto the horse. When she sat in the saddle, she directed the beast against the shrouded Deku still grasping at her hems. The sound of bones crunching seemed to block out even the screams.

For one sheer moment she paused. Iedaja. The woman had sacrificed so much for Alize. Could she leave her here, in the grip of her ruthless family?

But Viken’s voice rang murder behind her and the citadel’s massive iron gate groaned and began closing. Alize drove her heels deeper into the horse’s flank, the cumulative fury of a full winter throbbing in her veins as she watched her only prospect for escape threaten to vanish before her.

But the gods favored her and together Hrumi and horse burst from the citadel walls just as the gate slammed shut behind them.

Alize had little time to observe her surroundings. A narrow trodden road curled down the mountain, tangled in matted vegetation that chewed at the trees’ silhouettes. The darkness cast the land as a petrified seascape, roiling and snarled. Only the dead branches managed to break free of the creeper plants suffocating the undergrowth. Their fleshless wood gleamed in the moonless night. Winter had banished all nature’s grace until only its skeletons remained.

Behind Alize, the citadel gate began lumbering open once again. Alize drew her breath. Iedaja may never forgive me, but I cannot stay. Alize cracked her reigns.

Her steed was accustomed to a heavier rider and nearly flew down the mountain. The scenery rushed past in a blur of shadows. Ahead, the fleeing Kogalok riders glanced back at Alize as she approached but they kept up their speed. There was no faster way from the citadel than for Alize to share the road with the Soul Eaters.

Besides, worse things followed behind her.

Alize was nearly on top of them when one rider reared up and rammed him horse into hers. With the impact Alize fumbled her reigns and instead found herself sprawled on the frozen earth.

“They send a single Deku after us?” spoke the man towering above her. He was an exceptionally ugly man, his face growing fatter towards his chin and his lips amassed like leftover skin. He sneered with his mouth hung open slightly, not unlike a cow. But the face was human. Though the palest shade of humanity, even that was beautiful.

Alize could not look away. She had no weapons, nothing but her own conviction that a Kogalok’s torment could not be worse than the Dekus’.

“Take the soul and let’s begone,” his companion commanded from his horse. “Lingering will only invite more.”

The Soul Eater grasped Alize’s shroud at the collar, wrenching her upwards towards his yellowed eyes. Then he inhaled.

Alize felt as though a shadow had brushed her skin, but nothing further.

The Kogalok faltered in confusion. “What’s this?” He brought his face close to Alize, his sour breath seeping into her Deku shroud. She could see every small cut stroke of each scar that stood out against his rough skin. Human skin. Alize cherished how it folded and stretched.

Little frothes of saliva collected at the edges of his lips when he spoke. “No soul at all.”

“A demon,” another companion called. “Waste no time on it.”

“Not a demon,” The Kogalok corrected, his eyes slanting in beguilement. The emotion did not suit him. “A Hrumi in Deku clothing,” he uttered, “I would not be you for the world. The Deku bear more of your sisters’ blood than Parousia prince ever will. Mayhap you are already the last.”

Alize slammed to the ground as he released her. She rose to her elbows just in time to see the rider catch her horse’s reins. “Perhaps we should seek our own alliance,” he laughed, his spittle flying.

Alize forced air into her crushed lungs. “The Hrumi would never ally with a Kogalok!” Alize yelled, but her voice disappeared under the sound of trampling hooves as the Soul Eaters left her behind.

The Kogaloks were no better than Viken. These men used the little humanity they retained to spread death across her homeland. And if Alize did not focus on this, she risked hearing the Kogalok’s words.

Your sisters’ blood, the last Hrumi.

In the renewed silence, Alize staggered to her feet once more.

Then, for the first time since Iedaja had assembled her Deku shroud under the shadow of the Temple, Alize wrenched it back from her face. Frigid air caressed her skin.

She twisted her gaze skyward and scowled. Viken’s falcon soared overhead, choosing to follow the horsemen down the mountain. Though it had been months since Alize was truly outside, her Hrumi training returned to her, instinctive as her thundering heartbeat. She stepped off the road and into the shelter of the trees.

The forest offered her no path. The overgrowth grew brittle and thick, but it also blocked out the snow. Alize left no footprints.