Why did it still sting? She wanted to scream at him for his insolence. Who would dare tell the Shah to their face at the lack of power and awe their own nation ought to boast?

She felt the words simmer inside her, and needed another moment to swallow down her anger.

But... it... were... this true... what did it mean of her and her seat? Her power? Perhaps.. perhaps she had met this poor cursed man for a purpose. Surely Hakeshna would not save her just to throw her away on a weakening dynasty...


Weakening... from what the man said.. the country was well beyond that. She studied Ghaej, keeping herself humbled over the fact this man- thiugh ugly as he might look- had saved her life- and now.. was being honest with her over secrets many could not know.


So.. she swallowed her pride, though it proved difficult- the simple act making her feel sick. 

"You.. make it sound like our fate is sealed," she said, voice low- and it was hard to hide her tartness.

He awoke, pain seizing and writhing within. He choked on his scream, scrambling as he fell from his bed in a tangle of sweat and sheets to the floor. He clutched at his gut, groaning as he felt his insides pull and twist and BURN.

The pain always came like this, as inevitable as the ticking hands of a clock. Ever since that day in the forests, when he lay in a pool of his own blood and tears burned his vision. The day Arthund De'lawnuwe died.

The pain was a reminder of what he had lost, of what that wretched creature had taken from him- his parents, his brother, his niece, and his lover. And although it had only been a few months since the slaughter- those words haunted him now as he gripped his gut in pain- feeling his very inside rip apart and flesh turn solid, rock hard.. to stone.

'You will kill them for me,' it hissed in reply when he howled in anguish at what had been done. He protested the accusations, startled that he, of all men, were accused of such atrocities.  The being was livid he'd refuted, pushing back against his charge before forcing Arthund back in a howl of pain as its gnarled claws touched his flesh, sinking inside and ripping out his heart.

Arthund remained on one knee for a time, too stunned to do much else but look at the bloodied hand that held his pulsing heart.

"Interesting.." the creature hissed. "Your heart still beats.." it turned towards Arthund as the man clutched at his chest- a new knot of pain all but consuming him- the sensations indescribable as organs and muscles and blood were pinched and ripped off as a hole sunk in and melted into stone.

He could barely see, barely breath as the world swirled around him...

"You will prove your worth, prove my mistake, stone of heart.." the being hissed. "Slay those who are deserving and prove your hearts defiance of me and I will give up my life to restore yours."




He lay there, swallowing back the pain that turned into a wheezing whimper as he managed to get onto his knees. And as the cloud of pain subsided, he lifted his hand- which was wet, and frowned. He had vomitted again- vomit mixed with blood.

Picking himself off the floor, he took him time to clean himself up. Each morning it was a similar routine, where he'd awaken, a lurch of pain gripping his insides and he'd scream through the painful transformation of skin to stone, organs being stifled.. changed.. and his body pumping what remained of his blood.

He paused beside an old, dusty mirror, catching sight of the grey skin and sunken hole of his chest as his fingers tenses on the laces of his open shirt. It was a horrible and ugly thing.. HE was a horrible abd ugly thing, something unnatural, inhuman... a walking curse.

And the only way around it was to prove to the ruthless being who did this to him that he was even worthy of being saved.

Did he even want to be saved? A part of him felt he died that day in the slaughter- a beast of black and darkness, tearing out from the shadows and tearing apart his world. A faint, dusty light caught the ring of his finger- and be touched it, grimacing at rhe memory of her dying face. She had been so beautiful, even in death.. his light.. his love.. his world...

Gone.

His whole family was now gone. From the jovial jokester he had as a brother, to his patient mother and his wonderfully smart and naive, niece.

Laney.. she had been just a child- and had been so excited to travel with her father and family. They had lost their mother a few years ago and it seemed they were all finally recovering....

And now they too, were laid to rest in the ground.  He visited the graves only when he dared, for most the world knew not he was still alive. There was a grave for him, no body was buried, but most presumes the worst- the rumors had spread his body must have suffered the worst of all- or had been lost to the river near where the carnage was found.

It was weird to see his own gravestone when he visited- although it was fitting in its own way. Arthund was no longer than man he had been before- now scarred by the creature who had stolen his heart.

He turned away from the mirror and finished lacing up the front of his shirt. He was unable to look at the hole any longer and didn't want to dwell on his lost. But the pain... it still felt too fresh and for it, he still mourned.

But today was another day. He had to get up, despite the pain, despite the agony, and try to survive. That's all he was doing anymore- surviving. He felt so ill.. so numb so often. He was no killer- and infact, never killed outside of the battle field. But this creature, this merciless beast who desires blood...

He requires blood for vengeance..
And for proof of why Arthund defied the curse that his own heart fought.

A part of him wished to simply die and join the rest of his family, but that would be too easy- and although he wanted just to reunite with the dead...
Who he was could not allow him to take his own life. It was even difficult for him to take the life of another, so cut throat and cold.

After the first killing, he wept. Over the second, he was sick for days. By the third one he was growing angry, agitated. The creature had told him he would lift the curse if he proved his heart.. honored the beings vengeance...

But as he looked towards the wall, where a pinned list of names was hung...

How many more would he need to add to the list to appease this being? Was he tricked into this? Could this creature be sated?

He approached his list on the wall, staring at rhe names to the point he wasn't seeing anything. He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. He needed to steel himself. He needed to remind himself.. he needed to reassure that these men.. these women.. these people had been corrupt.. these people were hurting others, being a detriment to their society and while they lived.. so many others suffered.

Sometimes it took him weeks to find a name.. justify the means...
It was easier at first- the obvious ones most if the city knew. But as he continued to suffer under his condition, he began to grow desperate. What was he missing? How could he be sure he killed those this creature desired?

What made HIM the executioner? What have HIM the right to take a life?

It ate away at him.. day by day.. night after night...
He was surprised the blood didn't stain his hands as it did his soul.

He turned away from the list and looked over at the opened envelopes and piles of papers on a desk in the corner. The room wasn't large, he lived in a small shack in the woods, so a few strides had him looking down at his notes... his research.

He lifted up the piece of paper..
His next target.
The Saronieth family.

He was working on this one for a while. He needed justification . He needed answers..

When he found some solid evidence of rhe trash this family had done...
Next all he needed was to find the time to strike.

He crumpled the paper, staring off towards the list on the wall.


Today was the day.

She digested those words.

"I suppose I'd do the same," came her barbed reply. 

She was trying to deal with the situation by trying to ignore it. But that was foolish.. she knew it.. but part of her knew she had to find a means not to panic. She was too clever not to have the fear or her son's safety be at the forefront or her mind.

She was kicking herself for not immediately returning with him. But she could never have expected someone would target her...

And of they did and knew what they were doing... they'd know she had a son and..

Inspite of herself, tears prickled within her eyes. She rigidly shifted away from Faraji, not wanting him to see her be so weak. And if they realized what Faraji was to her....

"Can we have a moment alone?" She asked quietly, hoping the servants didn't witness her moment of weakness. She needed to inform him of her fears without alarming the entire house hold. But.. what could they even do about her son now? He was already enroute...
Kia's name.. what was she going to do? And who would possibly be after her life .. and so aggressively?

It had been sometime since he'd seen or paid much attention to this southern monarch. But Qiani was, surprisingly, as he had remembered.  A youthful beauty, no doubt curbing her age and looks with magic. Where as he... 

He had aged. The softer features he may have had in his youth now looked hardened, perhaps even weathered. The war had not been kind, his eyes like stone, and his face... well, the ugly scars he had suffered would remain with him until the day he died. Yet despite the marring looks of a man hardened by years of war, he still kept his grace, his posture perfected and even the air around him seemed commanded. 

There was no mistaking that this man ruled a nation of war.

Although, at her comment, something subtle seemed to change- and he bowed his head in reply. 

"They say the first steps are the most painful," he replied, voice softer than one might have expected from such a man. 

He allowed a long pause of silence to linger befire he spoke again. 

"This is not an easy subject for me or my people. And with houses divided, I could only think of one solution that would allow for a fair resolve with peace talks against.. this... the Duke of Turgall. He.. it would seem.. has found ways to make unifications and peace of his own... and I could only counter in kind."

He went quiet again, studying the vision of the Queen in the mirror. 

"It is why I must request we both hold our audience in your lands, so as to offer a location that is not politically backing one man; or the other. Despite our differences, we have held a peaceful border for many generations and we do hold you and yours with the utmost respect.  But, as my letter stated.." he went on, posture still crisp. "This is a discussion of grave importance to all of Connlaoth. And a request via letter does not hold the weight and truth of the spoken word. "

That... was not exactly what she had been expecting. Certainly, she understood some of her people's past failures- but it always stung when anyone dare try to bring it up. She even had a heated retort broiling at the tip of her tongue, but then...
The idea of witnessing that.. seeing so much after many a years... her expression softened and the heat faded.

What would she have done were she to live so long?
And she couldn't help but ask the next question.

"So it is true... the city has fallen much in time."

Dao allowed her to lead, smirking thoughtfully at what she had said.

"So it's a place you feel is safe. Or atleast, hidden well enough to keep treasure.." he mused, then his eyes lit up. 

"Oh! Is that why you're taking me there?"He so cleverly asked, giving her a broad, toothy grin. 

And as she suspected, she'd be kissing air. Thomas stood there, eyes haunted with tears.  He knew it was a silly attempt.. but..
Part of him had hoped , like a fairy tale, it would have broken this 'spell '.

"Why else? Douzen ran this way."
But she frowned at what he said and shook her head.  "I know it can be dangerous- but I'm not about to just let my dog run into trouble alone." Her frown deepened  
"Did you see him run past this way?"

Then she heard his distinctive bark.

"Douzen!" And moved suddenly in that direction.

The woman continued towards town, the glittering city lights catching her full attention- like a moth to a flame.  To her, it looked like the stars had fallen and came alive upon the earth.

So enthralled was she, she hadn't noticed the caravan moving in her direction, so when she moved again- she startled the animals pulling the carts and one completely was up turned during the donkeys reaction to the woman who- was anything but the normal desert back drop it had been walking through, almost lulled.

"What in the Shah's name was that!?" A man exclaimed as he attempted to calm the animals so both carts wouldn't get upset.

Despite her exuberance gushing from her form, she did not miss the caution cawed by Neverlie. She settled in place and cocked her head thoughtfully. 

"Is the Autumn court so dangerous?" Veride couldn't help but ask. Upon meeting their King, she simply presumed it was much like her own.. then she audibly gasped as she remembered her own court's terrible dangers.

"Surely it couldn't be any more dangerous than spring. "

..could it?

Ibra haulted the moment Faraji appeared.  She couldn't help but bristle at his sudden appearance. She wasn't exactly in a good mood to interact with him- or well... anybody.

So inspite of herself, she sighed loudly and shook her head.

"I've been too anxious for rest- and it seems the entire serving staff feels the same."

It was almost ridiculous. But she couldn't blame them- not for reacting this way after the attempt at her life. But she was too exhausted to feel anything but irritation.

She studied Faraji and frowned.

"Did the servants fetch you?" This was not what she was hoping for- and knew he had better things to occupy his time than chasing her throughout his hallways.

The cloaked figure stood out, not only because the hijab he wore curled around his form like a fluorescent sky, but an even brighter pink one was looped up and over his broad shoulders, - the blue, however, accenting the vibrant color of his eyes. Most in the cities either wore muted tones, near the color of sand- or had gem encrusted fabrics that rivaled the colors of a cut gem stone. But this man? Even he was drawing attention as he sauntered through the lively fruit stalls in the market.

He shouldn't have been in the city that day, but as always- Ayden Bayne never listened. Sure, sometimes he obeyed the ruling of his father- but today he wanted to breath. He knew he'd get more lashings- might as well add it to the scars already lining his backside. He had been sleeping too comfortably lately anyway. The concept of moving of his free will....
Those days are what kept him going, rather than festering within the confinding labyrinth of sandstone seclusion where his father's band of thieves kept their base.

Most whom served his father were surprised the the son wasn't flayed alive- in truth, Ayden wondered how he hadn't been killed already- but perhaps the front that his son was his legacy.. when in truth, his son bear no shared blood with their leader....

Yes.. it was a wonder how Ayden Bayne remained without a proper cage. 
At times his father would use shackles, but given time- the man always found his way out. Which is why he wore the unique choice of attire...

Not many on thr market would notice the iron shackles tight around his wrists.. nor even the one secured against his throat. No... those bonds only lasted a good part of the day. His father never understood how his 'son' had gotten so good at becoming an escape artist...

Yet each time he attempted freedom...
Within the week his father would find him and bring him home- one way or another.

This time the damn shackles were a pain in the ass to get through. His father had started using magic infused metal now. That made it a lot more tricky- but eventually Ayden found creative ways to counter the spell. 

The ones he wore now.. however... he was able to gain freedom from them but their magic still thrummed within, irritating him and threatening to strike him were he too step too far away from his fathers 'place '.

So in a sense, Ayden- this time around- wasn't truly 'free' as he strolled through the vendors. He was calculating the length the metal had against him- testing the limits and so far- it seemed he could remain within most of the city until.. well.. the 'shock' was released and Ayden found himself unconscious. 

His father had yet to fetch him. He likely figured he had sometime before Ayden would figure out a way to thwart the shock bracers he now wore that kept him confined to the city, so for now- he considered his options within the city- and paused a moment beside an apple stand, tossing a coin to the vendor and enjoying a nice munch on the sweet fruit. Apples were hardly native to these lands so he enjoyed the northern fruit all the more. It reminded him of hid youth.. of his family his current father had 'killed' in too many life times ago.

Kah'zeem was red faced, which was surprisingly visible in what light was afforded to them in the dark. Or.... perhaps it was just obvious in his expression. He growled, irritation making his voice now shrill. 

"Just name your price! The woman- she's getting away!"

By now, Muh'tah had finally shown his face, groaning as he stumbled towards the pair. He looked like he had been through some things- all banged up with some gashes and rips to his clothing.

At the sight of his companion, Kah'zeem shrieked.
"Muh'tah! Get the woman! She's getting away!"

Muh'tah, in a daze, slowly came to his senses and at the sight of the star bodied woman outside of the cage, he too- have a shriek.  He rushed after her, picking up a chair as he went.

"Muh'tah!? What are you doing!?"

The second the woman noticed Muh'tah dashing her way she took off into the sands- rushing towards the twinkling city with arms extended. 

"I'm going to knock her out with this chair!" Meh'tah called back.

Kah'zeem squawked. "What!?"

"She can't get to the city!" Muh'tah called overtop of any protest from Kah'zeem.

"Don't just stand there!" Kah'zeem shrieked again, looking at Derry. "Capture that woman and bring her back to me! I'll pay you three times our promised amount! Just go! Go and get her!!"

Vaelyn, he might have noticed, had used the appearance of the old man to slip out of the room.  She didn't go too far, lingering - if only for the reason to ensure the Duke was safe. 

But why should she care? This was ridiculous. She was here to get information, and well- she supposed she was getting something. Once she heard the Duke was excusing himself, she began to make her way towards the ball room, but paused- uncertain. 

What if she ran into someone that wanted to dance? And shouldn't she be sticking close to Valen? He  was her primary target, after all. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here.. 


A strange thought occurred to her. She should have taken whatever he was offering. The friendship, the.. whatever...
It would keep her close. And the closer she got- the more secure her pockets could be lined with coin. Not everyone could work as a seamstress or milk maid or even a Duke...

No, Vaelyn's job was to get information and make money doing it. She was lucky Fuena kept her around. But.. well...

Fueno seemed to have a better eye and was always a step ahead of Vaelyn- no matter what she thought...
And she had a sneaking suspicion he left her alone here on purpose- so that something like this might happen.

She wouldn't mind... infact she shouldn't mind what she was doing.  It was her job...

And yet....
Something happened to the way she perceived the Duke, and it made her second guess each step she took.

She couldn't help but feel a surge of anger spike within her belly.  She tried to calm her emotions, but it seemed around him, they were hardly her own- or atleast not in her control.

And she wasn't sure why she was upset. Wasn't that basically what she was asking for? And still...


"Ah.. forgive me! I didn't realize the library was already occupied!"

Vaelyn nearly jumped clean out of her skin. Spinning around, she was ashamed not to sense the presence of someone else entering the library. A hand bad instinctively went to her waist, where a hidden blade rest. But she froze when she noted it was an elderly gentleman with a far too friendly of a smile and a long white beard.

"Oh goodness, Duke Valen! I hadn't realized it was you here. Please, pardon my interruption. I only meant to step away from the crowd."

Persea's expression fell. Was he so resolute that he'd ignore the amazing gift of memories he likely possessed? Never mind he was telling her he may have been elsewhere throughout a good bit of the years...
The fact he had lived through any at all and still remained before her to this day...

She placed a hand upon his and pushed.

"Surely you should not think so lowly of your memories from your home town. Fate preserved you. Maybe not for this moment, but for many. And clearly many more!"

Hebara stood poised- like a statue amongst the flames. Something seemed guarded as she calculated a reply, but nodded and lifted a hand.

"Very well, I shall accept your offer."

But one thing still remained to be discovered....

She was barely returning to her cognitive self but..m she couldn't help but feel something was... off. Sure, she could travel and get to Essryn.. had to get there.. but then what? She was just.. akin to a spirit.. she supposed.. but something tethered to the living world...

Or is that what she wanted to believe?

"We can be off once you feel it is wise to do so. I am at your fate."

For now. 

At his words, she glanced at him, then lowered her gaze as she stepped away to give him space to rise. She hated that her face felt like the flames of a fire. And that she felt so.. akward- like each limb and action she took were wood.

What had she gotten herself into by agreeing to this? Fueno... no... she couldn't blame him. She agreed. This was her job. But why had it lead to something like this?

No.. no this had all been on her own. Each time she encountered the Duke, something drew them together. It didn't make sense. They lived in completely different worlds- lead completely different lives...

And she was here to spy on him.
And he knew it.

The words he spoke rolled about inside her brain, making her heart race and keeping the pink color staining her cheeks. He cherished their time together? Was he actually considering..

No that would be foolish. And if he were... he out ranked her by... about as much as anyone could out rank her. 

"I shouldn't have kissed you," she said softly, eyes ashamed- almost angry, as she looked at the ground. "Back at the lake..."

That's what she needed to say.. needed to do..
But why did a spike of panic.. of fear grip her that she'd lose this? Whatever this may be.

Dao pauses to consider her words, then jerked a thumb towards a pile of wooden shapes hidden in the shadows of the ship's deck.

"Don't know. A few minutes on this one. Can't seem to get the hang of this. But I'll keep trying. Those over there.. They're my graveyard stags." The last part he leaned in to whisper. "I threw them there to die. Don't know what shape they even look like."

And at that, he tosses his head back in a maniacal laugh.

"You any good with wood?" He gestured towards his hands and tools and the "stag".

Dao couldn't help but grin that silly grin of his. Perhaps it was because he was unlike most vampires, and most men, that few took him as a serious threat. In truth, he was still himself.

Just now he had to battle with the demon's of blood lust. And there was no easy way to put it- when those cravings hit... he was something else.

"You know.. I always figured a woman like you didn't have a place of her own. You don't seem like the type to be chained to one place."