Asrael should have known better than to fall for Neda’s ploy. As Marlena led them to their temporary quarters, it dawned on him how foolish he had been to play into her hands- to once again sharing a room with the damnable, lusty blightlander. Her hungry grin bored into him from his right as Marlena swung their heavy, wooden door open to reveal the brightly lit interior. Asrael nearly turned then and there, as he saw the red, silken bedsheets and the mirrors covering three of the furthest walls and even the ceiling.

Marlena- as if she could see right through their bamboozling, smiled, raised her left eyebrow and questioned: “Is there a problem, good Sir? Thomas said to give you our finest visitor’s suite. I have been told that the Emperor, himself, requested this room when last he made his visit.” As if Asrael needed to be further nauseated. The twitch to his nose undoubtedly gave him away, but Neda’s excitement served to derail the conversation. She leapt inside- slamming the soles of her naked feet against the gold-enameled tiles to jump onto the bed to display the firmness of the mattress.

Asrael raised his hand to shield himself from the bounciness of her thoracic, fleshy protrusions and demanded: “Yes, yes, it is fine! Now, get her some dry clothing!” Marlena smiled a malicious grin and bowed down low- offering him another view of her cleavage, as well.

He felt as if they could all see right through him and enjoyed his discomfort- further solidifying his idea that women were complex and basically malicious beings.

“You will find it all in the dresser- please. Take your time... it will be another hour before dinner can be served.” Marlena licked her thick, red lips and closed the door on the two- leaving Asrael in the company of his excited associate. Satisfied that they were alone, Neda jumped back down on the floor and sprinted across the floor to tear open the oaken dresser, where she hurriedly began rummaging through the clothing to find something more fitting of the occasion.

“Look at this stuff, Assie!” Reaching inside, she retrieved a set of see-through, red underwear.

“Calm yourself and let me think, woman!” Asrael demanded and leaned against the cold, smooth, brick wall while pinching the bridge of his nose. Neda sounded a ‘hmph’ and proceeded to dress herself while her Master rubbed his face aggressively and muttered into his palms: “It is a lie- it has to be... Surely, the fool could not have-… could he?”

Neda glanced over her shoulder to see Asrael stare to the floor- distraught and melancholic. “What’re you moping about now? You better not be sulking when we eat, y’know. Belle said we’re supposed to show ourselves from our best sides when we’re eating.”

If Asrael heard it, he made certain not to acknowledge it. His stomach churned painfully as he imagined a world in which he hadn’t...

Neda finally finished slipping the black dress over her head and stepped over towards her companion, but not even her deep cleavage could bring him out of his misery. His brow was unusually low, his eyes distant in between the fingers supporting his face, but even so, she could see him intermittently grit his jaws. There was a time and place for things, Neda had learned as much. The time for prodding and for egging him on had passed, now, Asrael needed something else of her.

She bent down and looked up at the green eyes peering out from between the fingers to cock her head and ask: “Hey, what’s wrong? You’re sulkier than usual.” The necromancer finally broke from his empty staring to meet her gaze. He paused- as if pondering whether or not to tell her, but-… Just as she had stilled his unnerve in the tavern, he imagined she could still these worries, as well. Sensing his weakness, she grabbed him by the wrist and insistently led him over towards the bed, where he sat down- his fists closed at his sides as he continued to stare his thousand-yard-stare into the opposite wall. Neda’s warm fingers wormed their way into his fists, where his tense flexing loosened and allowed her to hold him.

His lips finally moved as she sat down. “I believe I have made a grave mistake.” He confessed. She could think of several mistakes he had committed, but had to ask: “What’d you do?” Asrael swallowed and allowed her to look into his eyes from the side.

“That night- the one in which I displayed my magic. I reanimated the girl and, in her confusion, she leapt for the Emperor.” As much as she hated herself for enjoying this tender moment, she made certain to take advantage of it and put her head atop his shoulder. Nodding, she whispered: “Yeah, you told me about that. Why’re you thinking about that, now?” Asrael took a deep breath before confessing:

“I was-… I moved my presentation. That night, Thomas was supposed to display his creation. If... what he is saying is true... then he would have succeeded- better than I did, judging by the looks of him.” Asrael finally looked up from the floor to stare into her red, glinting eyes.

“The magi would have re-solidified their position in our society. We could have avoided all of this- the pyres, the slavery, the castrations- if only I had not fumbled the lists.” Neda might’ve taken this moment of weakness and assaulted him. He was desperate for any guiding hand to take him away from that painful pit of defeat and shame- a well-known sensation of inferiority... but the blightlander had other plans. She reached up and grabbed hold of his chin before gently tapping her forehead against his and smiled.

“But then we wouldn’t have met, dummy. You’d still be that grumpy asshole I met out in the Blight.” His low brow sunk even lower. “Do you really value our encounter more than avoiding this genocide!? You might’ve been highborn- a magus in Capita, for all we know!” She looked up ponderously and scratched her chin, but ultimately shrugged.

“It sounds like you’re looking for reasons to beat yourself up. D’you really think this is your fault? If you do, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were. You’re not the one putting people in holes and setting them on fire, dummy.” Asrael finally blinked. She was not wrong... he might have provided a spark, but it was not he who had directed the flame- nor had it been he who fueled it. It had been Gustav and his ilk- all of it.

“And to answer your question, I do. I dunno how the world was before all of this. I can’t really imagine it, but from what you said, it didn’t sound like it was that much better... people still would’ve hated us, right?” Though her understanding of her plight was as shallow as could be, he found that her words rung true with him.

His hand tightened around her fingers as he muttered: “That is correct... Man would still be Man- the beast would still be there, however docile...” He raised his free hand to his lips and bit on the nail of his thumb before continuing: “The inferior would still believe themselves superior... Even if Thomas had succeeded, who is to say it would permanently secure our position?” Deep in his musings, he looked to the far wall and nodded.

“If anything, it might’ve damaged my cause. Had I not died, I would never have found the means to do what I have done.” Her skin crawled as she saw what appeared to be determination forming in the narrow apertures of his eyes. Her time for striking was approaching- she could tell. She inched closer as Asrael continued to mutter: “In which case, Thomas would have sabotaged me yet again. No- this was the only, possible outcome. I must make do with what it is- I must use it for what it is worth-” Neda had finally landed herself close enough to reach around his face and gently grabbed his cheek to turn him towards her.

When he turned, he stared into her red, blissful eyes and a benign smile. Her lips quivered nervously, her heated breath warmed his chin and cheek rhythmically. She was close enough to nearly touch the tip of her nose to his and he found himself liking it. He had never kissed her before, but a moment or two longer and he would be an experience richer. It frightened him as much as it excited him- the intense heat in his stomach and groin grew more tempting with every inch she moved towards him.

She had him where she wanted him now- this was it. Finally, her lips would touch his and start the cascade reaction that would inevitably lead to their bonding. Her chest had never thumped and pounded as it did- her groin had never been more humid.

“M-Master...” At the sound of the voice by the door, Asrael shot up from the bed and ordered his robe- taking care to hunch to have the fabric partially shroud the lengthy protrusion between his legs. Neda could scarcely believe it- Ellie, that bitch!

Eleanor’s head slowly inched through the aperture of the door, where her exhausted, black eyes finally found her terror-stricken Master standing by the bed. Asrael’s favored psychopath met Neda’s eyes with a smug smile that hurriedly faded as she assumed her usual subservience and bowed ever-so-slightly to say: “I-I was just wondering... can you tell me about Thomas?”

It took Asrael a few blinks of his eyes to break from his stupor and hurriedly explain: “I-… We-…" After a clearing of his throat, he gathered enough concentration to question: “And why, Eleanor, would you wish to hear of that hack? What, exactly do you wish to hear?” Ellie stepped inside, looked to either side in the hallway and finally closed the door.

Turning around, she explained: “How’s his magic different from ours? He’s just a magus, too, right?” He truly was disturbed- as signaled by him not addressing her dismissal of their nature as ‘just magi’. Folding his arms atop his chest, he nodded appreciatively.

“He used to be the High Magus of alchemy. As opposed to most of the other schools of magic, he does not deal with manipulation of the magics, themselves. He studies the energetic compounds of matter- conversion, transformation and imbuing. Oftentimes, they are referred to as makers of snake-oil, but in truth, they can be so much more...” It seemed to pain him to admit this, but Eleanor was sensible enough not to prod him where it hurt.

“You didn’t tell him about the inscriptions. Can he even use them with his magic?” Asrael shook his head determinately.

“No. To the best of my knowledge, there are none save me who might make use of this spell. I have a certain... trait... that allows me to interact and order the souls of my subjects. Perhaps, in time, you may learn to control one, two- perhaps three... but I do not believe you will be able to create a hierarchy, such as I have.” Imitating her Master, she rubbed her chin and nodded. He continued: “As for why we have both kept our secrets to ourselves, I suspect that he would not dare to risk me finding his secret. I could easily kill him if I knew how he is still alive.”

Neda’s nearly squished as she impatiently crossed her legs and said: “You’re giving him a lot of shit. He seems nice.” Asrael’s eyes darkened as he turned over his shoulder. The last of his libido drained away as he sternly informed: “Exactly. He is my polar opposite- foolishly kind, handsome, humble and free of all arrogance. He is a monster!” Both Ellie and Neda felt uncomfortable, as both wished to protest, but neither had the courage to point out the dissonance.

Ellie coughed into her hand and continued her line of questioning. “R-right... Why aren’t we leaving, if you hate him so much?” It was a valid question- one that Asrael had asked himself- and answered that he had been too distraught by the news to think clearly. But it had been a fortunate decision. He walked across the floor to frown down at his apprentice and inform:

“I need his books. We need to attain mass-production as I have already explained to you.” Ellie- realizing that Asrael’s mood was quickly souring, bowed her knees. “I’ll help you look. Thomas gave me an inventory-list and two lanterns. I’ve got them downstairs in the library.” It seemed that, at least in the case of Ellie, he had been fortunate in his selection of apprentices.