Heria had built up quite a supply of fleeting joys in her transient days with Korrin, though upon seeing Lili-Bon inevitably enter a dark, tiny tunnel, all those joys seeped through her pores. An acrid sweat reminded Heria that her least favorite part of the plan was fast approaching. They were to part ways, again, after such an inconsequential amount of time together that somehow meant everything to Heria. She didn’t want to face it, though as usual what she desired did not matter. The dreaded moment was upon them.

Both young women smiled ruefully at one another and set about their work. First, they were to cast a thin, translucent rope of essence that would act as a tether between the two. They’d agreed that bending small amounts of air to their will should suffice. Korrin, having the smaller frame and being altogether much more stealthy than Heria, tied the threaded wind about her waist, and prepared to enter the tunnel after Lili-Bon. She stopped at a false wall Lili pushed through only minutes before.

“Heria.” Steel consumed her mismatched eyes and snared Heria in place.

Right. We’ve got work to do. Save the tears for later. She only nodded. Korrin’s eyes sparked with wetness but she turned away before any tears could fall. They were both struggling profusely it seemed, suffering from a sense of sordid selflessness that only a few others could possibly understand. Both found solace in their being together that neither wanted to let go, they always had- always felt a kinship that held depths of possibility unexplored kindling just beneath the surface. Heria briefly considered begging Korrin to drop the unseen rope and run with her into the Wilders so they may help the sparks between them to grow in a way that Heria had long fantasized about. But it was too late. Korrin was gone.

The rope of air in Heria’s hands was already quickly spindling in her hand.

She has always been too fast for me… or I too slow for her, I suppose. Heria held the coiled air in her hands tight, only barely leaving enough slack for it to continue sliding on unimpeded. She could’ve easily cast some blue essence down to her palms and protected them from burning, bleeding all about the air-rope, revealing its thick nature to her eyes more than a few steps away, but Heria didn’t want to. Whatever pain that coursed through her thick, calloused, leathery animal hands and charged through to her wrist, she welcomed.

It gave her something to focus on. She was desperate for a distraction.

***

The young girl was flashing her eyes about in the dark all over as if looking for a reprieve from the reality that slumped on both her and Desinra’s shoulder. Des held a small es-torch ahead of them with her free hand as they all hobbled up the narrowest staircase in all of Blancana. Even so, visibility was low, to Amberosin and the bandaged fellow at least, Desinra underwent the same surgery that all ‘Lab attendants’ undergo to see better in the absolute darkness of their station and even the low light was giving her a slight headache. Though, the old woman didn’t want to leave her two young partners in crime in such deep, expansive dark, as she knew it would only slow their pace if they got lost inside their own minds. She chuckled as she peeked over to find the bandaged man, Ta’K according to Amberosin, glancing at the young girl once more. It was doubtful that Amberosin may see or notice his quaint glances in the dim light that Desinra held considering his entire face was wrapped, but the older woman could feel the muscles in his neck turn just slightly every ten steps or so.

Like he wants to say something. Des laughed at the irony a little louder than she meant to and startled both of her companions. “Sorry. Just… just thinking about Dresil. He used to stare at me from afar when we were both young, pretending to read one book or another while he shot inquisitive glances my way. As if he had something to say. I finally had to go and ask him what it was that he wanted! Poor man’s face lost all color like he’d seen a ghost! Hah!”

Ta’K stopped altogether on his remaining left leg hard enough to stop both women on either side of him. He held himself up straight on Amberosin, steadied on a single steep step, and bent down on his fresh bandaging about his left knee stump. Desinra had to take a few extra inches off to cleave out the infection. The pain was undoubtedly excruciating, nonetheless, the young man made no sound. Didn’t waver an inch. Des lost her breath as Ta’K extended one of his arms, free of the framework hand, out toward her. She accepted his wrist mound in two gentle hands.

Amberosin stood by, stoic and understanding.

Both humble and wise well beyond their years-

Yes. Suffering often causes one to mature much faster. The voice was not her own. Desinra looked down at the man before her only to find his wrapped face posited in her direction.

You?

Yes.

Hm. Sound older than I imagined. She could see his shoulders bounce in a short chuckle. Or was that for my sake? Didn’t want to rub your youth in my face? Venerable indeed, I’d say. She hadn’t meant the word ‘Venerable’ to be a slight and thought she’d “said” it quite neutrally but she could tell by his prolonged silence that it had somehow hurt the man. I’m sorry, I meant no-

You’re sorry? I… I killed your spouse. In a blind rage, chasing some ‘honorable’ vengeance I mowed down a loved man. Some useless, senseless, utterly disastrous sense of responsibility to avenge my people led me to become what I detest. To avenge all of Noctra, as if I have the right. I am sorry. I am so sorry. When I… with Dresil and his partner… I was playing a role. ‘Silent One’ as others know it. A shield of a persona meant to protect the few remnants of me while I could but… I was there. I murdered the man you loved. I could never ask for your forgiveness but I am sorry- as sorry to you as I am grateful for your rescue. I regret nearly all I’ve done since escaping the mines and heading for Blancana. Your husband, however….

She knew what he was getting at. Your essence touched his, didn’t it? While you were casting…. And you accepted it? Hah! My boy, that makes you a thousand times the man Lord White will ever be. Such compassion is… Legendary. Rise Ta’K Ta’Uma. Desinra winked as she saw his head snap to the side, wondering how she’d known his full name; the truth was she was only guessing. Dresil had told her plenty enough about the Ta’ for her to recognize the Venerable Sight which was almost exclusively given to members of the Ta’ Uma family. Ta’K’s reaction all but confirmed it for her. Ta’K rose and stood tall leaving her facing the young man’s chest, still with his arm in her hands. Des looked up to him with all the kindness she could muster. You’ve had my forgiveness ever since Dresil asked me to give it. He knew you were coming, how I’ve no idea, but he was certain the Ta’ would have their vengeance. He believed in what you are doing. To abandon your vengeance would be to have taken his life in vain. So please do not relent; your violence… your violence is virtuous. Yes? Yes. “No death without purpose?” Right, dear boy? Now let us go before we waste any more time. Amberosin is starting to look extremely concerned at how close we are standing. Must be feeling jealous.

By now it was obvious to her that Ta’K could see quite clearly in the darkness of their narrow staircase so she knew he would look over and see the beautiful young woman staring at him with her guard entirely down. Vulnerable and unaware of their intrusion into her truth. Her feelings. What Des was curious about, however, was the fact that he looked away instantly at seeing Amberosin’s raw emotions, her care, and concern, so near the surface. Dresil told Desinra once that the Ta’ held many customs surrounding emotions. She assumed that must be part of it.

“Alright Amberosin grab his-” Ta’K was shaking his head and held up a framework hand stopping Desinra in her tracks. Where does he store those damn things? Before she’d even finished her thought he gave her another set of questions that she just didn’t have the time to tackle. Ta’K’s hands spread wide, further than any natural human hands could, and began humming. A bright red glow surrounded them for a moment but vanished without warning leaving a searing bright spot in Desinra’s eyes. She flinched and blinked rapidly, not wanting to miss a thing, but he was done. Behind him, the stone wall had been torn through and at the bottom of his severed knee was a shin and foot of stone. It would only work for a short while, though, it would work.

Color me impressed.

She smiled and walked ahead of him. Amberosin was left utterly in the dark about the happenings before her, in more ways than one, but she didn’t resist when Ta’K grabbed her arm and walked briskly behind Des. The younger woman was already used to his mystic antics, it seemed. Des couldn’t help but tingle with building excitement.

Oh, my darling Dresil, if you could only see me now!

***

“Rhui? Rhui, mate?” Fernwick was shaking Rhui’s shoulders, making his head bang against his oversized metal helmet as it clanged against the marble walls behind him.

Ouch. Ouch! Please stop that Fernwick! Rhui couldn’t find his voice. He was barely able to see, though, he was sure his eyes were open wide. His scrawny body was alight with incorrigible flames beneath the ornate, heavy, Serpint’s armor. Rhui’s hands refused to move and expel the sweltering leaden weight no matter how strongly he willed it. They all lied, didn’t they? Surgeons, shamans, medics, nurses; Lord White. The whole lot deceived me into thinking I was going to recover, though, I guess I always knew that didn’t I?

There was a sudden coolness about his head, a welcome reprieve from his helmet confines, momentarily followed by an excessively robust smack from Fernwick’s calloused hand. Well… everyone except Fernwick I suppose. He never told me I looked awful, of course, but he also didn’t feed my false hopes about my health. At least I can take that with me, huh? Knowing I had an actual companion outside of my father’s court. Another smack sent a shock through Rhui that made him realize he couldn’t hear anymore. Absolute silence was beckoning him to slip deeper, further into its malevolently peaceful grasps, and he wanted to. Rhui wanted to sprint towards the escape from his own body and move on to whatever did or did not, come after. His life had been quaint, quite plain for a mid- noble’s son, to be honest, so Rhui didn’t really have many regrets. Nor passions. Nor opinions on anything outside of what his father desired, which was White’s guard, and only White’s guard.

So it was, so it had been, and so it would be for his youngest brother once he was gone. So it would be for every one of his father’s retainers and children until the end of his linage unless Lord White suddenly decided not to collect on a debt owed to him.

Shame. Zusil would’ve made a damn fine artist.

Rhui thought fondly of his younger brother’s artistry, mainly reimaginings of Ta’ Legends, mystic locales, and whatever creatures Argonia Slib theorized survived out in the Wilders. Zusil loved all things fantastical in nature. Not exactly things a vassal of Lord White wanted his son to be depicting, however fine their flawlessly brush strokes and magnificent colors were. There was one that always resonated with Rhui, a bit darker than the others, a lot more foreboding than his usual sprites and mystics or lovely locations. What had Zusil named it?

Tainted? That sounds right. Gruesome, ugly, magnificent obsidian that seemed to be shifting from vapor to a fluid state, very nearly solid, but much more malleable than anything he’d ever seen. Zusil had implemented especially fine work on the shading and composition. When their father, Reginald Enchan, saw the reminiscently terrifying picture he’d gone sickly and retreated to his quarters for the remainder of the night. Oddly enough, the next time White came to visit their estate, the painting was on display. Their Lord had loved it.

“Oh-ho, oh my whoever created this masterpiece?!”

Zusil, being only thirteen at the time, nearly flushed and bowed meekly.

“Well, that is one major talent you have there, my boy! Let us hope your elder siblings do not pass the baton to you too soon, yes?” White slammed a hand on Rhui’s shoulder and shook him playfully. He used to enjoy seeing the man so much in his younger days.

Rhui had already known four older siblings lost to White’s battles and missions. He was his family’s last hope before they sent in their only remaining heir, something no noble ever wanted to face. Looking back he could see the threat in White’s words but it was too late now, wasn’t it? He’d failed his father, his brother… his whole family would suffer.

Sorry, everyone. I really did give it my all.

***

“Rhui! Legends damn it all…”

The young, scrawny guard startled rattling so profusely in the armor that seemed even larger on him than it had a few short hours ago when Ta’K had entered the labs. The Ta’ was taking far too long for Mezir’s liking and had evidently run up all the time they could use Rhui. Mezir was caught between himself and Fernwick. Mezir… Mezir could probably save the young man if given enough time to figure out exactly what his father had done to Rhui in the first place… but should he? Would he? Still all so unclear. So muddled… so use what you know.

Rhui’s eyes were closed so it didn’t matter that Fernwick was looking at him with such solemn, longing eyes that revealed the man beneath the skinsuit. He evidently was also unable to hear him anymore as there had been no response whatsoever from the sweaty little man to his yelling. He stared at the dying man with his own eyes, with Mezir’s, and saw the logical solution. To let the man die. To leave him and let fate have its way while he went to save his team. Something about that felt… wrong, though, so he conjured up some compassion from dear old Schuri’ and dawned a whole new, unseen suit for just a moment. Compassion, Mezir. Remember to practice compassion. To separate yourself from your father. To be your own. Now stop thinking and feel this, damn it!

Even doing his best to conjure his empathy and compassion Mezir arrived at a very similar solution as he had using his own logic. So far as he could tell, the morally compassionate thing was fairly obvious. Rhui was suffering, was in pain that Mezir scarcely had an understanding of, and he could end that for the young man. He could grant him peace before whatever tore through his body devoured everything within Rhui’s extravagant suit of armor.

So it was decided, or, it had been, hadn’t it? Mezir always knew Rhui was meant for an early grave. There was no point in denying it now that the moment was upon them.

“Rhui…” Mezir rested the chapped lips of his Fernwick disguise against Rhui’s scalding forehead. The sweat was already turning cold on Rhui’s skin, who was bucking more wildly than before. Mezir restrained his shoulders with unwavering hands. “... I’ve not known you long, my friend, but there is one thing that has become increasingly clear to me with every moment spent by your side. Rhui.” Mezir sighed and moved his right hand to his hip, unsheathing a thin, kinked dagger embellished with gold bumps in the vague image of a massive bird. He placed the tip against Rhui’s gargantuan chest plate which sizzled slightly in protest. “You would’ve made a Legend to contend with. One day. If only my father had not blighted your life. All of our lives.” Mezir pulled Rhui close to him with his left hand behind the man’s sweltering, soaked scalp. “I’d like to have been a father myself, had things been different. Never told anyone that before. I’d have made a damn good one.”

With the weight of his body, Mezir leaned forward and listened as the dagger seared through the Serpint’s armor, piercing straight through Rhui’s racing heart. Stopping it instantly. Every last ounce of blood drained from the newly-formed void and essence of fire burned seven pounds of once beating muscle into a pile of meaningless ash. The fire spread outwards consuming all that was Rhui Enchan.

In one short moment, it was as if Rhui had never existed. Only space and dust before Mezir. The Fernwick disguise grew ten times heavier on his body and he nearly lost himself to the point of tears, something that had occurred more often in the past week than in the last thirty years of his life. Fortunately enough, a distraction came forth from the shadows to his right.

“Fernwick?” She was breathless. Nearly hyperventilating. He didn’t raise his head. The voice was clear enough for him to know that the plan must have really fallen apart at some point.

“Oh, my… is that the lovely little Lili-Bon?!” Alone. Why is she alone? Where is Korrin?

“I need you to take me to Lord White immediately. There has been an attempt on my life.”

Liar. Fernwick stood tall and faced countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso, his right hand behind his back as he bowed, slipping his dagger into the back of the armor. It was a good thing White’s guard loved their capes. “Then, yes, we must go to the Lord immediately!” She’d only interacted with Fernwick once before, a planned event on Mezir’s part, and didn’t know his mannerisms well, which was a blessing as he was tired of playing the part.

“Yes. Good- ex- excellent. Let's go, now! Where is he?!”

Lili-Bon was entirely on edge and Mezir noticed a healthy supply of essence built up beneath her skin. She must have cast a huge amount recently, for even as dull as the glow had become, he could still see the individual trails of multicolored residue throughout Lili’s arms. Given the fact that she could obviously cast a considerable amount and seeing how fragile her mental state had become, how hectic she was likely to be, and severely she may react to any missteps, Fernwick only bowed and stood beside the doors to White’s Lab.

“Right this way, Lady Lili-Bon.”