Runa’s PoV - Material Plane

“Oops.”

The moment I utter the word, Klipyl’s gaze snaps around. “What do you mean, oops?”

I can see in every direction, yet my meshwork twists about the moment I consider facing her. I can’t tell if my body turns as well, but it’s so odd if it didn’t, but I’m just a glowing light now, so weird sums it up. “Nothing, I mean, I got a message from Amdirlain, and she didn’t get my response.”

”How do you know she didn’t get it?” Frey asks curiously, as she picks her way past the smoking Ghoul remains.

“She sent me a message asking what the situation was, and I replied to let her know I’m trying to help you get free from this maze. Then she sent another later saying she hadn’t heard from me,” I reply, “She said to concentrate on my Oath link to send a message, and I did that.”

The golden light on the walls shifts hue slightly, and I realise I’m blushing, but I don’t feel flustered.

“Exactly how new are you, firefly?” Klipyl questions.

“I told you this the first time I’ve responded to a summons,” I say, trying for Pip’s energy in my reply, but the haste only makes the avoidance worse.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Klipyl hisses softly, the edge in her tone unsettling. “How long had you been a Lantern Archon before Frey’s summoning?”

Even if I didn’t know she’s a demoness, the edge of violence makes me wonder how she can be one of Lady Amdirlain’s Priestesses. “That’s secret business Miss Squirrel.”

Her sudden wide-eyed expression that appears had me snickering, even before her question. “What’s a squirrel?”

“Something that likes nuts apparently,” I retort gleefully, not sure what Ebusuku had meant, but Klipyl gives me a flattered smile.

“Let’s just get out of here, then you can get home,” Frey says softly. The moment she finishes speaking, she’s back to looking suspiciously at the dry husks laid out along the catacombs’ shelves.

This warren of tunnels makes me wonder if I should have let Pip answer her call.

“Seriously, why bury the dead with possessions?” asks Klipyl, poking at a badly corroded silver armband. “I don’t get Mortals. Yes, silver, gold, and gems are trinkets. Demons don’t value them, but I know Mortals do, so why leave them with the rest of the rotting meat?”

Frey glares at Klipyl but stops and shakes her head before speaking carefully. “This isn’t a Norse burial place; it’s Roman. We don’t have catacombs, but it’s normally to show the status the deceased had in life.”

“Well, they’re Ghoul food now, so how’s that status working out for them?” asks Klipyl, the Succubus’ snarky words so strange in her husky purr. She sounds like the village’s brothel workers trying to entice the farm labourers, even while bad-mouthing the dead.

Her pointed tongue brushing across her lips sends a shiver through me, but I try to stay polite. “Do you have an Oath link, Klipyl?”

“Search me, firefly,” snorts Klipyl, her wings rustling in the tight confines.

I take in her lush white figure, and the words slip-free. “You’re naked! Why would I need to search? I can see everything!”

“Not everything. I’d have to spread wide for that,” Klipyl teases, the hungry tone in her purr prompting my light to turn pink.

Frey’s scolding words are low, raising a hand for us to be quiet. “You pair are going to let the ghouls know we’re here.”

Klipyl waves dismissively before gesturing towards one of the junction’s passages. “They already know. I can hear them scrabbling around under the floor that way.”

“Under?” I ask in surprise, looking across the floor for holes. I imagine the stonework collapsing onto us, and my meshwork spins about.

“Even when there are passages to use, Ghouls like to dig tunnels for ambushing intruders,” Klipyl replies, glancing upwards at me. “Keep Frey safe; I’ll kill them.”

“Will do. Ghouls don’t like my light bolts!” I exclaim and get an annoyed look from her. “Sorry about hitting your wing; I didn’t mean it. Maybe put them away so I can attack things past you?”

Klipyl’s glare doesn’t ease, and I remember the sound of her flesh burning and its stench. “I’ll think about it.”

I focus on the tunnel Klipyl had motioned to fire a Radiant Bolt down it, still happy I’d figure it out. Even though the bolt only hits stone somewhere straight ahead, the Ghouls scream in rage. Beyond the first bellow, their eerie ravenous sounds continue to issue forth, and after a moment’s pause, more screams start up from other directions as well.

“Oops.”

* * *

Outlands

Ebusuku tapped a northern section of the mapped crescent shown on the drawing. “We were going to hit this section tomorrow. Did you want the canyons near the coast to help the new Lantern Archons through their initial levels?”

Looking over the cluster of serpentine canyons cutting their way inland, Amdirlain nodded. “How many want to help with Cemna?”

“More than we should likely take along at once,” replied Sage. “They all do. Might I suggest we take only an initial forty out of the eighty-seven?”

“That sounds wise. I’ve got an Ancient Lightning Elemental’s gemstone to deliver to Jantar or O’Nai, but I can drop that off before it’s morning on Cemna,” started Amdirlain.

Holding out his hand, Sage motioned towards Amdirlain. “I’ll take care of that for you. I’ve got scrap steel to take to Duskstone. None of the corrupted Celestial steel, just armour we’ve cleansed with Blessings.”

“What I can’t go with you at least?” asked Amdirlain, giving a mock grumble.

Sage’s wary gaze contradicts his calm nod. “You certainly can, and that would be your choice. I can’t handle you getting time to talk to the new Archons, but I can save you this trip.”

I need to learn to delegate.

Amdirlain nodded and released the gemstone to him before placing a bunch of smaller gems on the table. “You’re right, thank you.”

“You’re not alone,” reminded Sage. “Every day I have free of the Maze I owe to yourself and Ebusuku, so I’m happy to help.”

“More Ebusuku,” objected Amdirlain.

“She would have never been there except for the trust you gave her. Just because you knew some of her thoughts; she was still a Succubus.”

“I’ll get a group of the Lantern Archons organised so you can start off their experience progression,” volunteered Solveiga.

Amdirlain bit her lip and admitted what was worrying her about Ebusuku’s suggestion. “I’m worried about the risk of that many Lantern Archons working together.”

“Lantern Archons might be the weakest of the Archons, but they have an ability others don’t possess,” said Ebusuku.

“You’ve got me. I must admit Celestials haven’t been my focus of study,” Amdirlain said.

“Lantern Archons reform within a day of being slain; think of them as a transition between a Ghost and full Celestial. You can disrupt them easily, but slaying them completely is something else,” Ebusuku explained.

“But I’ve destroyed ghosts,” Amdirlain argued, remembering all those seized in the Necropolis.

“Because you can grab their Souls and prevent them returning to whatever anchor they have from their mortal life,” countered Ebusuku.

“Still, as you said, I shouldn’t get cocky,” replied Amdirlain. “Let’s not take their safety for granted.”

“Not suggesting that rather letting you know the options and priorities,” said Ebusuku.

* * *

Cemna - Pre-Dawn

The Gate opening into the dark of the pre-dawn prompts Amdirlain to remind those Archons still fully lit against Limbo’s blackness. “Bank your glow to just a candle’s brightness until the sun rises properly.”

Stepping through the Gate, Amdirlain started scrying on the nearest canyons.

What do you call a group of Lantern Archons? Flights? Constellations? Yeah, they’re so constellations!

Their stream finally ended, and Amdirlain let the Gate to Limbo close. The first forty already split themselves into groups of four. Archer, Fighter, Priest, and Scout seemed the primary classes in the combinations selected.

The practice the Hound Archons had gotten in the previous two weeks showed in how quickly they organised the newcomers. She teleported to the first location, with Pip and Mirage appearing on the canyon’s far side to provide backup after she moved on. The individual time she spent with each group meant hours passed before starting with the last group.

The four Lantern Archons worked in tandem to lure undead out of buildings rather than fighting indoors. Their baiting and concentrated firing sent remains crashing to the stone.

Happy with their progress, Amdirlain had set to teleport away after the last combat summary when movement in the sky grabbed her attention. Two black-winged Erinys, flying southwards along the coast, crossed the canyon’s lip a half a kilometre or more above them. Both clad in the same black leathers but radiating different magics. The lead flyer was red-haired, ivory-skinned, and possessed of predatory angular features. The second was olive-skinned, her oval face had a blade of a nose that took any chance of softness from her features and bow-lips that appeared purple from bruising.

Analysis gave her the details only a moment before the ivory skin flyer teleported only twenty metres away but keeping the advantage of height

[Name: Isaac

Species: Erinys

Class: Spell Singer (Glinnel) / Archer / Fighter / Gambler (Priest)

Level: 110 / 110 / 110 / 110 / 110

Health: 62,810

Defence: 1,226

Magic: 460

Mana: 298,872

Melee Attack Power: 655

Ranged Attack Power 719 (Chaos Infused Devastation Bow: 7,190 - Damage Multiplier: x8)

Combat Skills: Long Blade [S] (150), Recurve Bow [S] (195), Short Blade [S] (73) - A piercing soprano. - Various Blessings

Details: What would you like me to say about your girlfriend? Hell fried bird, with a side order of Soul. She’s been kind to two pussies, that I know of at least. ]

[Name: Ilya

Species: Erinys

Class: Archer / Fighter / Scout / Wizard

Level: 111 / 110 / 110 / 111 / 111

Health: 41,137

Defence: 1,684

Magic: 242

Mana: 309,400

Melee Attack Power: 852

Ranged Attack Power: 997

Combat Skills: Long Blade [S] (171), Recurve Bow [S] (259), Short Blade [S] (143) - Affinities Tier 1, 2, 3 + Infernal, Various Spell Lists

Details: Ilya was born in a quaint village to the proud Mortal descendant of a Djinn bloodline. Curiosity killed this cat and the rest of her village in the bargain. Known for long romantic flights in sunlight and for having ‘accidentally’ pot shot the weapon from a Devil’s hand at the worst possible moment instead of sniping at his opponent. Oops. Also has been kind to two pussies, at least, what a coincidence.]

“Please go back to the staging point, and send a Message to Ebusuku, but everyone stays clear for now.”

The Archons teleport away together, not arguing with her request, and she felt through their link one activate a Message rune disc Mirage had secured to each Lantern’s meshwork.

* * *

Issac’s PoV - Cemna Pre-Dawn

Ilya’s song blends in with my morning prayers from the years of familiarity. Her daily gear checks providing a soft counterpoint to the cards brushing across my skin. The tempo of her excited song provided a pace for my shuffling. Despite being in the mountain’s shadow, I can hear the change in the sky’s pure notes when the sun peeks over the horizon.

That initial note fading brings my shuffling to a halt, in that instant, Ilya speaks up. “Which way are we heading?”

“You’re never going to let me turn the card first, are you?” I laugh and set the deck down.

Even as she replies, I echo her response, her rich alto supporting my soprano, in sync with each other. “The question’s part of the lucky charm.”

I turn over the top card without opening my eyes, and Ilya answers her question. “South.”

Turning the next, I open my eyes and consider the pair, “Ace of Stars, and four of wands.”

“Well, there is plenty to the south. If you’d pulled a wand card first, we’d have a long flight across the ocean.”

We’ve finished our usual little ritual fun, but the card’s song sits incomplete the augury gathering heat. A drawn bow string’s tension was suddenly sitting within my shoulders. High soaring notes beckon me on—an arrow in-flight—only stopping when seven cards sit on the compressed grass before me. Touching each, I consider their meaning outside of a game of chance.

Ace of Stars: stars represents guidance. The ace is a night’s first star, or last star of the morning. Depending on the game, ace by itself can either be the highest card in a suit or the lowest.

Four of Wands: wands represents the light that conquers darkness, but a four in only a minor candle. Nearly worthless alone without other cards to support its run.

Queen of Death: the death suit represents agents of change—this one is nearly all-consuming—someone or something has or will undergo a major change. A high face value card, potentially a near certain winning card.

Prince of Swords: the inheritor of the sword’s rulership, a caring protector and faithful son. Depending on the game of chance, a helpful card. In a reading, it’s bound to cause trouble for those not willing to accept another’s protection.

Princess of Diamonds: a suit of binding, an inheritor of rigid temperament yet to come into her power. Again potent but not the strongest, plenty of cards to trump her depending on the game.

Luck’s divided face: custom drawn for me with an arrow between her teeth. Good luck or bad just happen, but skill and luck go hand in hand. Wild card in most games but can be poison unsuspecting.

The Eternal Void: the beginning or the end represents corruption or creation. Appearing in your hand in some games is an automatic loss, but others allow it to negate another’s card.

“Why didn’t you stop on the second?” Ilya asks, stepping close enough that I can smell the cool dampness of her freshly washed hair.

Picking up the cards, I fan them out to Ilya before I store the entire deck in Inventory. “I don’t know, Luck’s song told me to continue.”

Ilya’s fingers kiss across my cheek before brushing along my nape. “You’ve got a run of six major cards; it could be a winning hand.”

Her fingers running down my back prompt a moan to clash with my words. “Depends on the rules.”

“Someone always loses, and I thought you didn’t believe in following rules,” Ilya says. Another step presses the line of her body against me, her lips dipping towards my throat; the shift of her wings reminding me I still wear the present she’d had made.

“Every game has rules, but the skill is in picking the rules your luck likes,” I remind Ilya once again.

Her gaze digs at me, sparks of laughter wrestling with sceptical razors. “Then why the random rule changes mid game?”

Absorbing the ring shrugs off the enchantment compressing flesh and my wings erupt through the armour’s slits—a barely suppressed smile twitching my lips. “Luck’s a fickle thing. Did you want to delay another day?”

Breathy purred words spill from purple lips, and banked embers spring to full flame, making me a moth to her gaze. “Oh, I’ve already gotten lucky, but surely there’s more.”

I let my eyes linger across clingy armour that has more than embers glowing to life in her gaze, but I push on and fully trace inviting curves. “And here I thought Luck had done the getting.”

Ilya’s fingertips only manage to brush my hand before Teleport takes me straight up. Once out of the shadows, sunlight washes temptation away for now. Seven cards?! What lies to the south of such importance?

The card’s song might have found its completion, but the day’s opening verse has truly yet to sound its first note. Appearing beside me, Ilya prompts me to Teleport again, aiming past the range’s southern peak.

Tilted wings let me ride the strong winds and combine with Flight to push me to a higher speed. The sunlight heats the air providing a thrumming chorus that sets my nerves alight.

“What’s the rush?” Ilya’s message whispering in my ear draws my gaze from scouring the ground.

I reply to her question within her mind, the anticipation present amusing me. “The air is excited today. It wasn’t like this last time we visited.”

Her afterglow’s energy fights a losing battle against Ilya’s usual scepticism. Though the images she projects at my words are no longer enough to make me flush, but at my pleased hum she replies. “We’ve not been here often, it could be a seasonal thing.”

More images follow the words and one, in particular, gets me humming with the thought of devouring her that way.

“I’m calling dibs on that first one. I enjoyed the polymorph ring’s ability to put my wings away, I hadn’t thought of other options. But distract me later please, I want to look out for anything of interest.”

“Not going to trust to your luck?”

“There is being lucky, and there is pushing your luck. The augury cards have never behaved that way.”

“What are we looking for?” Ilya asks, and I sense her teasing mood; even though it’s clear in her thoughts she’s looking at my butt.

“You have a better butt, you tease. Stars and wands both have light and guiding in common. Hopefully, it’s something obvious.”

The living forest gives way into kilometres of petrified groves, ages-old trees long dead held upright, their mournful songs painful, dusty, and dry. Ash-grey farmland overrun with thistle looks only slightly friendlier than the ash plains of Hades.

It’s a few hours of Flight before a glow from below catches my gaze. A constellation of four stars burn in a canyon’s shadow around a figure clad in familiar green, a breeze rippling through her Paige cut, revealing Elven ears. A Teleport puts her in range, but the same silence emanates from her as the figure from the Gate, and Telepathy gives me nothing. I draw in breath to scream again, yet the airy, lilting music from the Lantern Archons holds my tongue.

Her back is to me, yet I see sudden tension in her posture, despite the absence of music to give it away. A thought has my bow in my hand, its notes screaming out their rage to cover the melody beneath. At its appearance all four Archons vanish from around her; their sudden absence shifts the canyon’s illumination and allowed the place’s sad music to weigh me down.

“Who are you really, and why did you focus a Gate on me?”

The Elf doesn’t move to turn but keeps her hands out to each side. Her reply in English is meaningless to Ilya but clear to me. “Isaac, this is a surprise. Please don’t hurt any of the Archons. They’re here gaining experience against the undead, and I’ve asked them not to get involved. Did the Devil that renamed you know they gave you a boy’s name, Rachel?”

“WHO ARE YOU?”

The unchecked anger in my voice gouges stone around her, yet leaves her flesh untouched, shredded clothing resealing in moments. The sorrowful living notes from the material have me holding back another scream, shame at inflicting the damage to them, prodding me with guilt. Yet the Elf doesn’t flinch away, and there’s no sign of blood spilled.

The Elf stays put, but her arms flex and I think she’s going to put her hands behind her head. “You didn’t believe me last time, or at least I hope you didn’t believe me. If the devastation was because you believed me, then I don’t know what I can say beyond I’m sorry.”

“How can I trust this isn’t just a trick?”

“Can you hear the music and use True Song, or just use True Song?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rachel, I’m trying to prove who I am. I’m told the area you blew apart was the work of True Song. I already told you I’m J, well formally Julia. I changed my name to Amdirlain recently.”

“It sounds Elvish. You get sent here as an Elf, and I ended up as an Erinys?” I growl and feel the anger in my words.

“No, I just look like a Wood Elf at present. I didn’t want to change forms and alarm you,” she replies. “This is almost as embarrassing as helping connect your phone’s Bluetooth to your vibrator so David could buzz you. Or maybe your mum catching us with the Playgirl mag that we got from Sarah’s sister.”

The possibility is so tempting, but I can’t risk Ilya’s safety. “That just proves you know things you shouldn’t if you’re not her, not that you are Julia.”

“If you can hear my Soul’s song, it should be recognisable, but I’ll have to lower my protections. I know a healing technique like Reiki, but it repairs flesh and using it drops my guard to an extent. I don’t need to touch anyone to use it, but it will cause my hands to glow. Would that be alright to show you?”

“If I see any spells coming our way, they’ll be scraping you up,” I growl and keep my aim at the base of her neck.

A golden singing light issuing from her hands banishes the canyon’s shadow. The notes rising out of the light sing to me of pain, heartbreak, and fun once shared. Memories of days within them before my plunge into Dis’ flaming river, and the old lifetime’s memories rise pressing against my mind.

Julia!

My words break, grasping for the surface in a voice so strangled I don’t recognise it for my own. “I thought I was alone!”

Nerveless fingers let go of my bow and it disappears. The moment its screaming chaos vanishes, it lets me clearly hear Julia’s sobbed words cross the distance between us. “Rachel, I’m so sorry.”

Teleport puts me on the ground in front of her, and faster than I can follow, she’s hugging me carefully. Panic spikes through my nerves, but I hold myself still, feeling the restrained power in her taunt muscles. “How did you get here?”

“We all got here the same way, a stalker fixated on me, and cursed me by abusing a family artifact. Who knew magic was a thing in our world? Then the cunt cursed you and Sarah as well, because you’d corrupted me and prevented me from falling for him.”

It’s not just the words, but the eye-roll and the sarcasm is pure Julia.

“Sarah’s here as well?”

“It’s a long story, but you’ve someone with you who can’t understand a word we’re saying. Would you introduce us? It’s making her curious more than it worries her, but she is worried.”

Ilya’s song has slivers of something I’d heard from her previously in the company of mortals—jealousy—and I nod in agreement.

“You were with Lantern Archons, I want to know about that, but I take it you speak Celestial?”

Julia’s—Amdirlain’s?—smile is still the same. “Yes, I do.”

I switch to Celestial even as I continue. “All Devils speak Celestial regardless of their origins. Ilya, this is Amdirlain, I knew her from before I ended up in Hell.”

“I thought you weren’t a Celestial previously, Isa?”

“Neither of us was—it’s a long story, Ilya,” states Julia before I have a chance. “Though the question is do you feel you actually need to know it?”

Her tone, blunter than I had expected Celestial to allow, catches me off guard. “You still don’t mince words, do you J?”

I catch the flood of questions in Ilya’s mind, and concerns about us in her stirring up the jealousy.

The rueful shrug and pert smile I get in response show not a hint of regret as J continues on. “I’ll be honest and show some cards. Isa was like a sister to me in life, not a lover, so while we have history, it’s not one like you were thinking. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I can only assume you helped Hell disregard Isa. For that, I can only say thank you.”

Ilya song growls low with suspicion and despite the hand I rest on her shoulder questions the situation. “How do you know how Hell considers her? Did you just read my thoughts?”

Julia’s eye-brow raise makes me want to say live long and prosper but I don’t interrupt.

“I’ll take them in reverse order. I’ve got experience as a Psion. While your thoughts don’t appear guarded enough to keep me out, I don’t need to go looking, given how loudly you’re projecting. I got access to a summary of Isa’s records and duty assignments. While I’ll share how I managed with Isa, I’m not just telling you that secret. I also learnt you’re on Co-ordinator Makaro’s ‘Better Dead’ list, Ilya, but all your records are accessible only via her office,”

“She’s done what?” Ilya exclaims in concern.

“Every copy of your duty assignments and assessments is locked up in Co-ordinator Makaro’s vault. The contact that told me about it said there was no chance of getting to them without her knowledge.”

“That’s not a good sign,” Ilya sighs, the words pure understatement, from what she’s taught me.

The thought of the havoc she could play on Ilya’s situation makes me wince. “She’ll be able to adjust your records, and no one will know since she’s got all the copies.”

“We’ll have to gather a lot more than I thought,” grumbles Ilya.

“How did you piss her off?” Julia asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“I think that’s information I need to know, and you don’t,” refutes Ilya, ignoring my eye roll.

“I’m concerned about what brings you to Cemna. It’s a strange coincidence,” says Julia, her focus settling purely on me.

“Ilya said I needed sunshine, and we planned to hunt treasures to bribe Makaro,” I explain. Julia doesn’t even blink at the mention of a bribe, and I wonder how much she’s changed. ‘“An augury this morning brought us south. I guess Luck decided I’d earned a big dose of its Blessing.”

“You’re a Priestess of Luck?” asked Julia, her calm evaporating at my statement.

Ilya snorts and pats my butt, the contact calming her song. “I’m not the only one that’s surprised.”

The growing strength in the grim songs about us draws my attention. “We should talk elsewhere, or I can clear those close enough for our words to disturb. Their songs are getting more agitated, they’ll come to investigate shortly.”

My bow is already in my hand when Julia gestures for a moment. “If it’s alright, I’d like to keep them for the Archons to destroy, they’ll get a more immediate benefit. Ilya, would you like to think about a location where we can talk?”

The offer of choosing the location mellowing Ilya’s spike of paranoia from her song.

“That’s fine with me,” Ilya replies quickly, and her mind races through options before she decides on one.

I pick the image of an Elven Hall out of Ilya’s mind and Teleport. The shattered remains of foes we destroyed twenty-odd years ago are still present, but the building’s lonely music hasn’t improved at all. Ilya is there a moment later, with Julia arriving on her heels.

“Will you tell the Archons they can go back to the canyon, or let the undead settle?” I ask after giving her a moment to look the place over.

“I sent a message and asked a Hound Archon to supervise them in another canyon. A few wanted to join us, but I told them it was alright,” Julia replies calmly.

Before Ilya speaks, the first chords contain fast blows of the suspicion beating within her. “A Hound Archon, Lantern Archons, how many Celestials are there?”

“You want Isa to restrict what she tells you, and yet you expect me to answer your questions straight up? It doesn’t work that way. If you don’t trust yourself to know about Isa’s background, I’m not letting you in on my business,” Julia says bluntly. Her crossed arms signalling the end of discussion even without the sharp look she gives Ilya, the lack of her song throwing me off, but her gaze could etch steel. “You already know I’m associated with at least five Celestials; that’s all you need to know.”

“Don’t treat her that way, Julia,” I protest.

“She needs to decide which side of the fence she’s standing on,” Julia declares. “I apologise if that’s not the situation, but a few people I trusted have screwed me over. If Ilya can’t trust herself to protect you after you’ve worked together for years; then why should I trust her with that knowledge?”

Ilya’s hand on my shoulder stops my protest, and I hear the tension ease in her song. “We’re both protective of Isa it seems. I withdraw the question.”

“Why don’t we start with introductions since then I can send you both messages. I assume Ilya knows Message given she has more levels in Wizards than I can believe, and has already heard me speak my name.”

Julia’s words get a spark of surprised chords from Ilya, but her hand doesn’t slip away from me. Stepping closer her hand moves down my back reminding me of our evening. I state my name only just refraining from squeaking when she squeezes my arse.

“My name is Ilya. What level do you believe I am?” asks Ilya.

The confidence in Julia’s answer is absolute. “You’re at level one-eleven for Erinys, Scout and Wizard, and level one-ten for Archer and Fighter. I’d be interested to know why they’re so high without taking a Prestige Class. “

The reply makes Ilya start, and surprise has her growling. “That isn’t something you need to know.”

“You don’t have all the Affinities you need for at least one fantastic Prestige Class; there are conditions for stronger base classes as well you don’t meet.”

Julia’s words aren’t a jab, just another blunt statement. I wonder what’s up with her. Ilya tenses at the words, changing the pitch of her song by octaves. “I’ve some interesting ones, but why I’ve not taken them is my business,”

“Can I guess something?” Julia asks.

The glare Ilya directs at Julia doesn’t even make her blink, and Ilya finally huffs a reply. “I can’t control what you guess.”

“You used to gain levels slowly, but since you’ve teamed with Isaac, you started gaining levels faster—a lot faster. “

“How did you guess at this?”

“It’s exactly the reason I’m teamed up with those Lantern Archons,” Julia reveals, with a smile that shows more teeth than it should. “Which makes me concerned you’re using my friend.”

“She’s not, I can hear her song. If she doesn’t know things, then she can give honest answers without risk of betrayal. It’s not that she doesn’t trust herself; she doesn’t trust anyone else in Hell not to force answers out of her. They can’t read my mind, and I can fuck up their truth sensing with a few giggled notes.”

“I would have preferred not having Isa confirmed as the cause of my faster levelling,” grumbles Ilya, concern adding bitter notes to her softening music.

I’ve seen her withdrawing so often, so I clasp hands to anchor her before regrets sweep her away from me. “We’re both high level because we don’t have official permission to take any Prestige Class, but terrible ones. They allowed Ilya a Tier Five option recently that left most of her advantages to one side, and we’re trying to find something to bribe Makaro for an open permit.”

“Is that what you’re here for?”

“Yes,” Ilya replies

“Not exactly,” I admit, and Ilya’s gaze stabs at me in surprise.

Ilya’s jaw snapped shut with a click, and she was lucky she didn’t bite her tongue. “What did you have planned, Isa?”

“The augury I cast wasn’t to find something to bribe Makaro, I wanted to get Ilya free from her,” I admit, and Ilya stares at me in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten loopy, songbird,” Ilya states, her conviction clear from her song.

Julia looks curious, more than concerned, and a glimmer of amusement I remember shows. “What did you count as free from her?”

I can only give her a shrug since I hadn’t thought out all the possibilities. “A way out, or the means to destroy Makaro, would be two option I can think of, but there could be others.”

“You’re already out of Hell, why not simply stay gone?”

Ilya waves off Julia’s question dismissively. “Don’t you know anything about Devils? They know our names and we can’t change them. If we leave and don’t report back on time, they’ll use a Gate and drag us back for punishment. Bit pointless working for ages to avoid that fate only to turn around and walk right into it.”

“But you’re here,” Julia points out.

I cut in quickly before Ilya has a chance to refuse. “Technically, this world is between Hell and the Abyss, since there are permanent Gates open. We’re assigned scouting duties to monitor approaches, but we’ve not been here for years. Ilya brought me here for initial training, and even though Ilya put it in her report, we didn’t get reprimanded.”

“I accurately reported that we destroyed undead forces of the Demon Lord Orcus. The report included an accurate count of what we destroyed in a region he controlled. If I have numbers to report, it won’t be an issue this time either.”

Julia’s gaze weighs on Ilya for a time, yet amusement shines through the steel. “Potentially I can change your names.”

My mind churns in confusion, and Ilya’s brain is spinning as well from her expression. But I speak first. “You can do what now?”

“I changed the names of fifty-odd individuals who’d had their names locked by a Demon Lady,” explains Julia.

I glance at Ilya and find she’s already looking at me when our gazes lock. A soft refrain of hope skips about inside my love’s song, and she doesn’t look away when she speaks. “Where would we go, though?”

“Ilya, you helped Isa. Would you help others if I could get you your freedom?”

“What would your help cost us?” asks Ilya, the question spun from pure guarded reflex. “If you can even deliver on it. They assign the names using the authority of the Hell’s Co-ordinators, you don’t look like you have the juice to oppose them.”

“I’d help Isa for free, but I don’t know you. There is a world that didn’t know of Wizard spells until recently. I’d like you to teach some people, and help them out. One nation has been fighting a war against Illithid Hivemind drones for centuries, and Elves got driven from the continent by them. Or you can just stay here and help us wipe out undead and Demons if we find them. Did you-”

“If we’re slain, we’ll end up back in Hell,” objects Ilya angrily.

Julia’s slow nod carries a reassuring calmness, not rising to the bait of Ilya’s heat. “I know a Spell that could change your Home Plane, it works on Demons. From my study, the Spell should work on any Outsider if the Plane targeted for attunement doesn’t oppose their nature. I could attune you to the Outlands or somewhere else, your preference.”

Ilya takes one look at me. “Do you trust her?”

I can only answer honestly. “Julia always used to spend more time helping others than dealing with her problems.”

“Ouch,” Julia groans, “blunt but true.”

“I need to know who I’m dealing with,” declares Ilya fiercely, her song’s cynical notes struggling to drown the spark of hope. “You’ve got concealments my True Sight can’t see through.”

“You said we got cursed. What was the curse, and how did you learn about them?” I ask overriding Ilya’s question.

“It’s a long story.”

I wave her protest away and cut to the chase. “Then give me the cliff notes.”

“Sarah was to be chained in Hell. You were to feel the wrath of the Erinys Arrows, and mine was a bit more open-ended.”

“Opened ended being?”

“They cursed me to the Pit, to show my whorish nature for all eternity, for deceiving others about my goodness.”

Her reluctance is easy to read, as is the way she answers without answering. “Where and what did you end up as Julia?”

Julia’s pouty sigh just makes me want to hug her, but I don’t give in and cover my eyes to block her miserable look. “Fess up!”

“Before I earned an evolution that changed my species, I was a Demonic Succubus. I spawned from the wall on Culerzic, as a Least Succubus,” mutters Julia reluctantly.

I try, I honestly try, but the moment the first snicker escapes, the laughter rushes out to dance through the Hall’s stillness. I can’t get air in my lungs to laugh as loud or as long as that deserves.

“What are you now you’ve evolved?” demands Ilya.

Julia gives me a worried look, but changes. The Elven female vanishes, and the clothing flows to cover the form of an Angel towering over us. Void black wings stabbed through with shining gold slivers cast ominious shadows, but the bright blue of her hair and golden-hued skin push that aside. I can see her old name no longer suits her, the colour of her skin grabs at my memories, and the vines tattooed on her hands draw my gaze. Playful notes splash across the stone, her presence a fast riptide that has my mind begging to drown.

This is Amdirlain. I can see why she changed her name.

The giggling notes retreat with a playful tap, and the city’s sad song floods back in.

“You’re a Fallen,” Ilya mutters uncertainly.

“She looks like an Angel to me,” I say, ignoring Amdirlain’s snort.

Ilya just gives me an amused look. “That answers my earlier question, but why are Archons dealing with a Fallen?”

“My species evolution wouldn’t let me be other than a Fallen until I free myself from the curse. They accept that this form isn’t who I am.”

Ilya’s gaze narrows speculatively, and her song races along. “How many years ago did you spawn?”

“The Titan’s Servant told me I spawned out of the wall seven years after Isa ended up in Hell,” admits Amdirlain.

“What-” I don’t get another word out.

“Planar Attunement first, before you try to change our names. It would doom us if you could change our names, but not our Home Plane,” Ilya blurts out, running over my question.

“You’re now ready to trust her so quickly?” I ask, curious but happy at Ilya’s change of heart.

“She’s gotten from the power level of baby slut to a Fallen in that length of time! This might have a chance of working,” states Ilya hopefully. “If it does, we’ll figure out whether we work here, that other world, or if there is a better option. One condition: you test both steps on me before we risk Isa.”

“Very well,” agrees Amdirlain.

“I don’t agree.”

“Two votes for, one against, motion carried,” Amdirlain states, dismissing my objection.

“What about Sarah?” I demand, not intending to give in that easily. “Is she your contact? Is she’s still in Hell?”

“No, she's currently in The Exchange,” admits Amdirlain reluctantly.

The way she drags out the words is suspicious in the extreme. “You better be planning to tell me your long story, buster.”

I glare at her almost smug look, but Amdirlain smiles reassuringly. “If the process works, I’ll tell you the lot.”

“Wait, I need to know one thing,” I complain quickly. “Have you bonked someone yet?”

Amdirlain’s glare is enough, and I can’t contain the laughter, Ilya joining in when I project an image in fits and starts. A virginal succubus with her knees tightly together, dressed up in an old fashioned school teacher’s stern outfit.