• Solo • Not how things were supposed to go

[Oberan]

Ymiden 10th Arc 722

A pair of women, a pair of sisters, found their way through one of many passages scattered about Etzos, connecting the city to its considerable underground counterpart. Though the route they’d come from was black as pitch, a lightless tunnel winding deep below the city surface, neither carried a lantern, torch, or other form of illumination. That in and of itself wasn’t remarkable.

The Underground housed many. From outlaws and criminals of all stripes, to the destitute and worthless, the dregs of society. Those who had nothing, were nothing, or would be nothing if ever they showed their face outside the tunnels again. Some who had nothing to lose, some who had everything to lose. Some with bounties, some without. Madmen, killers, fugitives. The homeless, penniless, and the desperate. In short, the type of folk who’d do near anything to survive. Those were the majority. Those who belonged, whether they’d chosen to be there or not.

Among them walked veritable monsters. The kind that’d burn in daylight, so they lurked in the dark. They belonged too, for what better place to find a demon than in the underworld?

Lastly, there were the polar opposites. Folk who had ventured in the lawless labyrinth, perhaps for business, perhaps out of curiosity. They stayed only as long as they needed, and left as soon as possible. Others who believed life below the city might treat them better, who mistook the Underground as a paradise for the lost and hopeless, the desolate and broken. Only to find out just how wrong they were, to find themselves living among fiends and sinners now, preyed upon and taken advantage of. And then there were those who’d been dragged inside against their will. Who would take any opportunity to flee, no matter the cost.

Those were considered visitors by the denizens of the Underground, and fit into one of two categories – clientele or prey. So, while uncommon, it wasn’t exactly rare at all for visitors to flee a miserable existence down below, or narrowly escape such a life being thrust upon them. Navigating to the surface with no preparation, guide or supplies. Just running, running, running. Desperately feeling their way through the dark.

But the sisters were nothing like that. They did not hurry. Blending with the dark like shadows within shadows, they carried with them none of the wide-eyed twitchy fear of those fleeing the Underground. Instead they brought perfect poise and unnatural grace, and the confidence that comes from being in their element. They weren’t visitors leaving a space they did not belong – quite the opposite, in fact.

[Oberan]

Kohrenna’s stomach writhed like a thousand shadows dancing to the beat of flickering lamplight.

She strode through dark tunnels with her head held tall and proud, mimicking the Ahizpa Buruzagia –the sister in charge— beside her. They were not related by blood, but they were sisters nonetheless.

The Ahizpa guided them through labyrinthine hallways, hesitating nor stopping once at crossroads or forks in the path. Being a great deal shorter, Kohrenna had to rush a little to keep pace.

Every so often she glanced at her sister from the corners of her eyes, hoping that perhaps she’d notice Kohrenna’s struggle and slow down. The Ahizpa, however, had her stare fixed on the way ahead, piercing through the darkness. Kohrenna didn’t speak up or try to catch her attention. The thought alone spiked her heartbeat.

She could still hardly believe it – the Ahizpa Buruzagia, in the flesh, walking right beside her. Close enough to reach out and touch.

Pinching herself hard in the thigh again, Kohrenna sucked in a pained breath. It hurt more than she’d expected. The flesh in that spot was still sore and red. All the better to reassure herself this wasn’t some illusion, hallucination or vivid dream. She didn’t wake up this time either, nor did the scenery and the image of her sister begin to fade and shimmer like the veil of night when dawn arrived.

If it was a dream, it was a stubborn one.

Kohrenna snuck another sideways glace. Unlike her, her sister was focused on the errand. Vibrant eyes fixed firmly on the future, and expression completely controlled – not brimming with childish excitement.

No matter how hard and how many times Kohrenna tried to, the dumb grin on her face refused to be suppressed. All her efforts served to accomplish the opposite instead, nurturing and widening the grin. That’s not to say she’d not succeeded a couple times, but her victories lasted only but a few moments at best. A single glimpse of her sister was enough to coax the grin back onto her lips.

After all, it was just the two of them. No other sisters followed behind, no other apprentices with whom Kohrenna would have to share. It was one of the reasons she felt she needed to periodically pinch herself. After all, the Ahizpa Buruzagia rarely ventured outside her offices, and when she did she’d never requested company – let alone someone young and inexperienced.

Yet, she’d not chosen one of Kohrenna’s superiors, nor any of the other apprentices. She’d asked for no-one else but Kohrenna – by name no less! Kohrenna had never dared dream the Ahizpa knew of her existence and would acknowledge it. It must mean she was special among her peers.

Oh, how they’d burned with envy when the announcement came. Kohrenna still relished the looks on their faces. The shocked realization she’d been favored over all of them. She’d always known her bad reputation didn’t exist. That it was but a fabrication of her peers to try and topple her confidence and thus sabotage her performance during training.

Problem child, they’d claimed the instructors called her. They said she was disliked for being intractable and obstinate. Clearly, they were just jealous, threatened by Kohrenna’s growth and afraid she would overshadow them. Being hand-picked by the Ahizpa just proved it.

Now all that was left was leaving a perfect impression. Kohrenna would make full use of this unique opportunity to show off her best side and amaze her sister with exemplary behavior. The Ahizpa would return to her offices so thoroughly floored by Kohrenna’s abilities that she’d request her for another errand. Or perhaps even a full-fledged mission. And when she finally completed her training, she could become her closest aide…

This very errand was the starting point to realizing her ambitions, it was the first step towards her ideal future. The outcome would determine just how difficult a journey it would be. All the more reason she had to impress – and she would. No doubt about it. Mother knew when the next opportunity would arrive. She couldn’t afford to mess this up.

The tunnel ahead forked. Kohrenna glanced at her sister, but no directions were shared. and moved in tandem with her, managing to protect the space between them. Like the first time they encountered a crossroads, the Ahizpa chose a path silently, heading towards it without concern she might cut Kohrenna off or lose her. Almost as if she’d forgotten she was there.

Despite the lack of instruction, Kohrenna did manage to move in tandem with her sister, protecting the space between them. She’d gotten rather good at figuring out which way the Ahizpa would turn from facial cues alone. Maybe in time she’d be capable of reading the Ahizpa’s desires like a book, which would be an invaluable skill for a close aide to have.

The Ahizpa was certainly testing her, assessing if Kohrenna could live up to her standards. It was an honor to be personally evaluated by the Ahizpa Buruzagia. She reminded herself of it with every turn they took. Kohrenna couldn’t stand being ignored like this, but she gritted her teeth and endured it.

Perhaps it was another test, aimed to appraise Kohrenna’s mental fortitude and dealt with setbacks and frustration. The Ahizpa’s regular duties exacted a considerable toll only the resilient few could withstand. Her assistant would need to be able to bear it. Kohrenna could do that. This little ordeal was nothing compared to the real thing, and she’d not submit to it.

Being Ahizpa Buruzagia came with a lot of responsibility and stress. It was difficult job with long days and little rest, especially the last few seasons. Those had been brutal, Kohrenna knew.
If the despicable rumors had hit all sisters like a blast of uncomfortable Saun heat, then the urgent messages from home had scorched them to the bone. All the sisters talked about it in hushed whispers, concerned and despairing, terrified what the future might bring.

The Ahizpa had worked tirelessly ever since, and the sisters closest to her worried among themselves. Fearing there would come a moment she’d break. They said she already showed cracks. Hairline fractures that grew a little every day.

Kohrenna couldn’t picture it – glancing at her sister, no such weaknesses showed. Up close, she looked the same as she had from afar. Standing tall and proud, beautiful and unwavering. Hypnotically attractive like a brightly colored yet carnivorous flower. A soft façade that hid a body of tempered steel. A body that itself was a sheath for a mind sharp as a well-honed blade.

The beauty Kohrenna could only wish she’d grow into. The body could be attained with more of the rigorous training she already suffered. But the mind, the way her sister reasoned and viewed the world, that aspect Kohrenna would never be able to emulate without insight in those exact things.

Insight only obtainable through conversation and understanding, asking the right questions and picking apart the answers. Unfortunately, the Ahizpa was not in a conversationalist mood. Kohrenna had made some attempts at filling the silence at first, posing questions she thought were apropos for this venture. Her sister had answered curt and to the point, no words beyond the necessary. Every ask less and less too, so Kohrenna’d chosen to stop before none remained.

The future right-hand of the Ahizpa Buruzagia needed to be able to read the room, after all.

Another bend rounded, striding through another stretch of darkness. Beyond shone light, seeming impossibly brilliant to eyes attuned to the dark, coming closer with every new step. As did the task Kohrenna had been picked for.

The writhing shadow tendrils lashed around her stomach squeezed. Finally! After the near-silent trek through the tunnels they had reached the surface. Every second that ticked away brought her nearer to the moment she could show off her competence.

[Oberan]

Light spilled through the drawn curtains of the bedroom window, gradually chasing away the darkness as the suns rose higher in the sky. Eventually, the strip of light made it to Oberan’s face, coaxing him awake. Even without it, slumber’s hold on him would have faded at this particular time of day.

Oberan woke with the dawn. Regardless of the emotional upheaval he experienced or how drained it made him feel, that remained dependably consistent.

Rather than blink the sleep from his eyes, he turned away from the window to try and doze off again. As per usual, he didn’t feel great—tired and listless, only in part caused by trouble falling asleep the evening prior. Like most days, he wanted nothing more but laze in bed all day and do nothing, waiting for the world to reset itself, to return what it had taken.

For the longest time, Oberan had fostered the subconscious hope that wrapping himself in a cocoon of blankets would eventually lead to metamorphosis. Shedding all leaden layers of his soul that had been weighing him down since the first moment that one tidbit of world shaking news had really sunk in. Leaving all that ballast behind, shackled no longer. Instead he would emerge with wings. Light and floaty and brightly colored. Finally feeling like himself again.

Where did that get me? A question asked many times these past seasons. A fleeting ask, usually only making him feel worse. This time, however, Oberan clung to it, pushed it into his heart to fuel the fading cinders inside. Coax a tiny orange glow back to life.

He went against what had become the norm for recent seasons.

Allowing himself no time to change his mind, he kicked the blankets off and sat on the edge of the bed for a bit. Yawning and scratching his beard and wild bedhead. Gooseflesh rippled across his skin. Underneath, muscles trembled. Oberan rubbed his chest and upper arms, letting out another yawn.

He stood, leaving the warm bed behind entirely, and reluctantly began the morning stretches he’d abandoned far too long. Easy ones at first, to gently wake his body up before launching into the advanced ones for keeping limber.

Oberan groaned as he flowed from one exercise to the other, slight pain tugging at the muscles. A new discomfort cultivated through seasons of neglect. It wouldn’t vanish after just a couple rounds of daily stretches, but Oberan knew he would be able to reach a little further each time, the exercises coming a little easier.

What hurt more than the stretches themselves however, was experiencing difficulty with what had once been so easy. The motions for moving from one exercise to another, the sequence burned into muscle memory by rote, felt just the tiniest bit awkward, as if his body needed a reminder of how exactly it needed to move and what came next. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Frustrating too. Every moment of hesitation, every new twinge of pain or discomfort added to a deep loathing Oberan hadn’t thought himself capable of.

Nonetheless, he persevered, in part driven by a sense that the aches were well-deserved, but mostly because the routine simply felt right, natural. With his focus divided between keeping count and feeling his body, errand thoughts of any sort were deprived the opportunity to stir. Oberan had forgotten how soothing a tranquil mind could be. Most of all, however, it felt good to fall back into the habit cultivated over the course of decades. Only now he realized how hard he’d missed it during the seasons he’d gone without.

After about half an hour Oberan deemed his body sufficiently warmed up, and moved on to the next set of exercises. No stretches and semi-acrobatics this time. Instead, he lowered himself into a combat stance. Wide with solid footing, perfect for practice drills.

He started slow, striking invisible targets and deflecting phantom blows, allowing his body a few moments to reacquaint itself with the kata. Once pleased with how snappy and crisp the sequences felt, he sped up a little. Rinse and repeat over and over for a few minutes, before moving on to another form to start a new drill.

Beginning from zero again and again and again. Until he reached the end of the series of kata, panting and covered in sweat. One last set then, to calm his breathing and get in some more light stretches. Wide, sweeping motions that forced his lungs and chest to swell with air to their utmost capacity.

During the routine, the suns had climbed higher, brightening both the sky and bedroom. Oberan threw open the curtains, allowing light to stream in uninhibited. He bathed in warmth for a few minutes, staring into the blue as he got lost in thought.

A sigh. Strong and satisfied. Despite the sweat and aches, the panting and frustration, Oberan felt better than he had in a long while. Not just a little better, he actually felt good. Proud of himself for returning to his morning routine, and for seeing it through to the end.

For the first time in seasons, the lethargy clinging to his soul like a fat tick was gone, every last trace of it eradicated. In its stead pulsed a bubbling energy. It ebbed and flowed with his breaths, swelling and compressing with the motions of his chest.

Finally, after so long, Oberan felt ready again to face the day ahead.

At least for a little while. Clouds rolled in front of the suns, casting shadows across the city. Oberan shivered as darkness swelled from the shadows, and the pleasant heat fell away. With it went the lion’s share of the positivity swirling inside. Not all –he did feel better than the days before, the stretches and drills had done him good—but the initial high had worn off. It would take more time and effort to move beyond the veil of rainclouds cloaking his heart.

He heaved another sigh, deep lungfuls of hurt that refused to leave him alone.

You can’t rush it, Oberan reminded himself, moving away from the window and descending the stairs. It needs time.

That happened to be a resource he had in abundance, but not one he wanted to spend much of. He didn’t want to feel better in time, he wanted to feel better now. Which wouldn’t happen if he continued to wallow in it, of course, but it was hard not to be overwhelmed by a sense of loss during idle moments.

Thoughts intruded as he washed his face in the rain barrel outside, swelling bloated with emotion, rolling in from the far reaches of his mind. Crashing over him, heavier than expected, engulfing him and pushing him off balance. A storm of memories and wistful what-ifs that howled against the world even as Oberan tamed the wild growth he called a beard with a trusty razor, and ate a stale chunk of bread for breakfast.

By reflex he flinched away from those feelings the moment he became aware, then stopped himself and allowed them to flow uninhibited. Allowed them to hurt.

After all, it was natural to hurt. Oberan reminded himself of that each time his conscious mind recoiled from the tempest weeping inside. No use in telling himself it wasn’t there, that everything was fine. Just accept and try moving forward.

Oberan stepped out the door and drifted through the Perimeter’s streets, weaving through alleys and around corners, dipping in and out a series of stores. The storm and its depressed gray sky kept pace. Every step he took gave rise to a new wave within the sea of his mind, each casting a larger shadow than the last.

There was no use in bracing and trying to anchor himself, he’d only get swept away. No use in running either – knee-deep inside the ocean, Oberan made splashes but no progress. The only thing to do was hold his breath and accept he couldn’t fight the tides.

Throughout his shopping spree, he was yanked every which way by the current. His body remained in the present, but his mind was submerged and at the mercy of the roiling waters, dragged into the past… and into futures that could have been.

But when his mind was otherwise occupied, the sea calmed and the tide withdrew so he once again stood firm on his own two feet. Then the suns beamed rays through the thick curtain of thunderclouds. Giant waves shriveled to no more than placid shallows insistently lapping at his ankles. The storm screamed on the horizon, but being so far away, its winds only had enough strength to splash up foam.

It never vanished, merely fading to the background where it persistently continued to color his mood. However, it retreated far enough to allow him to relish the scent of fresh-baked goods at the baker’s, give himself a little discount when plonking down coins on the cheesemonger’s counter, and make idle conversation with a woman helming an apple stall at the market.

Some time later the tempest returned alongside its massive waves and howling gales. Rushing in to flood Oberan’s wandering mind as he went about his business as best he could. Yet, the riptides didn’t manage to sweep him into the abyssal depths where he’d surely drown – though not for lack of trying. Oberan had braided himself a sturdy rope out of normalcy and little things that –for whatever reason—sparked joy. A lifeline to keep him tethered to the shore when floating along the unpredictable ocean waves and prevent him from drifting too far out when the tides were high.

Groceries stuffed in a woven tote, Oberan returned home feeling quite accomplished –and rather sheepish for doing so. Little everyday things like these weren’t spectacular feats by any measure, and the spark of pride glowing inside seemed rather disproportionate. And yet, it continued smoldering even when the ocean tried to smother it.

Beyond the towering walls of water and the gray-cloaked sky above blinked a hint of blue. Far away still, but that tiny dot was plenty to elicit a smile.

Even the most violent storm could not rage indefinitely.

[Oberan]

They took their first step into the light, and the Ahizpa hissed as if burned. She flinched at the brightness of day and shielded her eyes with an arm. “Accursed suns!” she spat.

In nearby alleys, some Etzori turned their heads at the sound of the outburst, though they wouldn’t understand the words. To them, it was but an exotic language. Some might recognize it as one from far south. But none approached. They instead withdrew deeper into the alleyways, determined to mind their own business. A valuable skill to hone in these parts.

“I thought you’d said the weather was mild today, Kohrenna?”

“I did suggest you wear a hat, Sister,” she replied in the same tongue. Hers lacked the harsh edge of her sister’s, and wrestled itself through respectful tones and honorifics. Contrary to her own advise, no hat adorned Kohrenna’s head either, but she’d not shown such averse reaction as her sister. Rather, she’d only needed a couple moments to adjust, blinking against the overwhelming radiance of the suns. “Daytime can be blinding if you’re not used to it. You perhaps should consider going outside more often, if only to build a tolerance.”

There came an annoyed snort, followed by a short few moments of silence. “I fail to see the need,” her sister finally said, sounding somewhat strained. Kohrenna was baffled. She’d never seen such a reaction from a sister bearing the protective markings.

“I rarely need to venture out in the suns’ hateful glare. To build a tolerance yielding only minimal benefit wastes time better spent applying myself to more important matters. Unfamiliar as you are with the extent of my duties, I do not expect you to understand.” She sighed, an oddly wistful note. “You are young, not yet burdened with responsibility. You have free time aplenty to spend on frivolities.”

Her tone of voice signified the end of that topic, and she let her words fade into silence as she peeked from underneath her protective arm to test the brightness.

“Wouldn’t you agree that the tolerance itself is the benefit, Sister?” Kohrenna argued, failing to spot the subtle clench of her sister’s jaw in the process. She refused to let her side activities be dismissed as mere frivolities. Time focused on something outside of work still held value, it was meaningful.

“You’d be surprised how convenient it is to not be severely debilitated each time you have to leave the shadows. To walk unrestrained regardless of the time of day. The minutes spent waiting for your eyes to adapt, that’s what I call wasted time.”

In response, her sister lowered her arm. It reminded Kohrenna of a little girl stubbornly and defiantly squinting into the suns after having been told not to. It should have been a comical sight, but Kohrenna didn’t laugh or smile. She couldn’t, and she didn’t dare besides. Her stomach tightened itself into an uncomfortable knot, anxious anticipation creeping along its insides.

“You think I don’t know that, child?” Acid disguised as honey.

A scowl formed on her sister’s brow –unrelated to her squinting against the light— directed squarely at Kohrenna. The Ahizpa no longer snarled only at the suns. Her lips now pressed tightly against each other, going from plump and lovely to pale and thin.

Kohrenna realized immediately she had gone too far. Said too much, though she couldn’t for the life of her recognize what exactly had set her sister off. None of it had been disrespectful. At most she’d perhaps been a little bit insolent, challenging the Ahizpa’s point of view. But that’s how arguments were supposed to go.

She bit her lip, uncertain of what to do. Perhaps she should apologize and be done with it. Acknowledging a mistake would certainly win her some goodwill. Apologize for what though? There was no mistake to admit to. Kohrenna might have said too much, but she hadn’t been wrong, and she wouldn’t apologize for being right. Still, she needed to salvage her sister’s opinion of her somehow.

“Do you want me to fetch you a hat, Sister?” she asked at last, fingers fidgeting at her sides. Perhaps a show of submission would erase the perceived slight, burying it under a mountain of more desirable conduct. It hardly was a role she enjoyed playing, but if it’d smooth things over with the Ahizpa… “If memory serves, there’s a small store selling woven goods nearby. Baskets mostly, but also simple yet lovely straw hats—”

“Unnecessary,” her sister snapped. “I shall bear it.”

“It won’t take long. Just a few moments for me to pop over and then we can continue on our way. You needn’t suffer the suns to prove a point, Sister. Besides, it might come in handy on future trips to the surface too. In the meantime you can just wait in the shadows and I’ll be right ba—”

“I said I will bear it, child,” her sister bit. “The light of the hateful suns isn’t so crippling I need to hide from it. In a few moments I will be just fine. Or do you mean to suggest the time spent within the shadows and darkness, the silken cloak of night, and the blessed season of Cylus has softened me into a fragile damsel?” Her nostrils flared, her voice steadily swelled, and the scowl on her brow deepened with creeping anger. “Or is it that you dare imply Mother birthed such flawed and weak daughters who can only thrive in their natural environment, incapable of enduring anything else?”

Kohrenna threw up her hands, gesturing calming signs. “Of course not, Sister! Of course not! You know I wouldn’t even think of besmirching Mother like that!”

The angry lines carved on her sister’s face eased, smoothing over with a placated calm. Kohrenna dared breathe out relief for a naïve second or two before it froze in her lungs. Her sister had abandoned the scowl for a more terrifying expression.

“I see,” she said, smiling. A smile like poison often mistaken for sweet sugar – saccharine on the tongue, but leaving a bitter aftertaste. “It’s me then, you think so ill of. You think me feeble and incapable of overcoming a bit of sunlight. You think I cannot go outside without hiding in the shadows or without wearing a—a hat—” she spat out the word as if it were a most profane slur “—because I’ve not touched the suns’ rays recently? Because you cannot fathom that I might far too busy to make the trek up to the surface every single day for the sole purpose of frolicking in the suns for a couple minutes?

“Mother help you if you truly believe I’m wasting my precious time on matters so trivial I might as well move sunbathing to the top of my priority list from the low, low spot it occupies now. What is it you think I do all day? Twiddle my thumbs? You think I stay cooped up in the stink of the Immortal-damned sewers for seasons on end because I enjoy the company of rats and other vermin?”

“No, Sister! No!” Kohrenna almost wailed, mind rushing for the right words to defuse this treacherous situation with. All the while she desperately fought the flames rising from her stomach, crawling their way up to her chest, spreading to her arms and neck and head.

Her skin prickled, adrenaline pulsed through her system, setting all her limbs ablaze. Every fiber of her being attempted to tense up, itching to act on the impulses of her now-restless body.Anger at such blatantly unjust accusations threatened to burn away her rational mind if she wasn’t careful. She breathed, deep and slow, holding on to her calm with great effort. Losing her temper would only make matters worse.

Mirroring Kohrenna, the Ahizpa also took a moment to center herself. She’d taken a long and sharp breath to bring her flared-up temper back under control. Exhaling it in an elongated sigh, it dispersed the last remnants of her rant. The angry flush on her face receded, as did the acid in her gaze.

“I was just trying to look out for you, Sister.” Kohrenna said, meaning to soothe. “I was merely concerned for your wellbeing.” The moment the words left her mouth, she already knew they were the wrong ones. One glance at the Ahizpa made her want to crawl into a deep hole.

Her sister’s tenuous calm broke with an audible snap. In an instant the red returned to her face, and enough poison to kill Etzos’ population twice over gathered behind her eyes. “You think me some decrepit hag so senile she needs you to look after her wellbeing? I’ve no need for your concern, child, or anyone else’s! Let alone your patronizing talk. Understand?”

Mouth racing to protest, eyes burning, Kohrenna stumbled over her words hoping to convince her sister that’s not at all what she’d meant. That she wouldn’t even dream of disrespecting her so, but to no avail. The Ahizpa silenced her with a glare and a dismissive wave of her hand. Curt and commanding, unwilling to listen to any excuse or apology.

“Do you understand, child?”

Kohrenna just… deflated, all tension rushed out her slumping form. How had this happened? How had she created such a spectacular miscommunication? This was the end of the line. The Ahizpa hated her now. Even if Kohrenna proved her competence that wouldn’t change. She was finished.

A quiet sigh escaped her. It contained no relief, only resigned acceptance of this debacle of a situation. The lower reaches of her vision were overcome by a watery blur, but she dared not blink it away, lest it roll down her cheeks while the Ahizpa still had eyes on her.

“Yes, Sister.” She sniffled.

“Good,” her sister said, tone razor-sharp. She headed down the nearest alley, and Kohrenna quickly and discreetly wiped her eyes with a sleeve of her coat. “Then keep your unnecessary concerns to yourself, and follow me. Or do you think me too demented to navigate the Perimeter as well?”

“No, Sister, I trust in your wisdom and judgement.”

“Hmpf! Spare me the dishonest flattery.”

Unlike when they’d traversed the tunnels of the Underground, Kohrenna stuck to a position in her sister’s wake rather than walking by her side. That privilege she’d lost – or so she suspected, she wasn’t brave enough to try and find out for sure. She’d rather not sink her sister’s opinion of her even lower, and she could do without another verbal whipping too.

Plus, she’d already accrued too many black marks on this outing. Perhaps enough that the Ahizpa would request specifically for Kohrenna not to be the one to accompany her the next time she left the offices. Kohrenna winced at the thought.

Is there nothing I can do? she wondered, following at her sister’s heel like a dog, keeping what she hoped was a respectful distance between the two of them. It’s too early to give up, right? We’re not heading back to the office yet. I can still turn this around.

Yes, Kohrenna just had to put in more effort, be on her best behavior. Keep her wits about her, think twice about every action she took, every word she spoke. Surely the Ahizpa Buruzagia would prefer a capable assistant over an agreeable one. If Kohrenna projected all key characteristics her sister desired, a positive outcome could still be attained.

Preoccupied, Kohrenna barely had eyes for the streets around her. When they finally reached their destination, it took a good few moments for her to realize. She snapped out of her musings barely in time to prevent bumping into her sister’s back.

Kohrenna froze on the spot, skin itching all over with cold sweat, then quickly retreated a few step to not intrude on the Ahizpa’s personal space. Her sister didn’t notice any of it, attention focused elsewhere. Kohrenna let out a quiet and quivering breath. It came from deep within her chest, heaved her shoulders. Hand on her chest as if to calm her racing heart with gently touch, eyes closing for no longer than a stretched sigh.

When she opened them again, the Ahizpa was staring intensely at her. All the tension expelled with her breath fled right back into her body, bringing along family and friends. She snapped to attention instantly.

“Now is not the time for snoozing, child,” the Ahizpa berated, “I need you sharp and focused.”

“I wasn’t—” Kohrenna began, though she cut herself off immediately. This wasn’t an acidic barb, but a call for her to ready herself. One hand curled into a wide sleeve of her clothes, caressing one of the daggers hidden in its folds. “Yes, Sister. What do you need me to do?”

An approving nod, so subtle it might not have been there at all, but it got Kohrenna’s heart dancing. She indulged it for a fraction of a second, then reminded herself of her sister’s words just now. Focus.

“Keep an eye on the street and the windows. If you see movement inside, let me know.”

Kohrenna moved to a spot where she had a good overview of both, should be out of sight of anyone inside glancing out. She signaled her sister she was in position, and for the first time since their arrival, really took stock of her surroundings –the house in particular.

It did not live up to Kohrenna’s expectations. Their target, so her sister had shared during the first stretch of their trek through the underground, was a client who needed a reminder of a special deal struck some seasons ago. As such, Kohrenna figured they were about to meet some powerful crime lord or wealthy entrepreneur... Perhaps a struggling politician, disgraced foreign ambassador, or even an exiled royal – the Ahizpa would not personally visit anyone of lesser importance.

While the Perimeter lacked the grand, opulent mansions found in the upper tiers of the city, it too had its share of spacious high-end residences. Some were definitely befitting of a woman of status – far more than an office in the sewers anyway.

However, this location, this hovel did not scream high status, or any status at all. If Kohrenna had to guess, she’d have said it belonged to some nobody.

There was nothing special about the house: blocky shape, beige brown stone, and no ornamentation of any kind – if one disregarded the crack in the brickwork, running down the façade like a jagged scar. Most houses in the Outer Perimeter were small, cheap, and built to last. This one was no exception. Kohrenna couldn’t picture a woman of significant importance living there, but perhaps that was the point?

The Ahizpa stepped up to the front door, one hand primed for knocking. The other seemed to rest by her side, but in actuality it hovered near the long, thin dagger hidden beneath her clothes. If need be, she could arm herself and kill a hapless fool three times over in a fraction of a moment.

She glanced behind her, and Kohrenna signed a short message. No movement yet. The Ahizpa knocked sharply, loud enough there could be no doubt someone was at the door. Kohrenna’s eyes flitted from the ground floor window to the two above in search of something. A silhouette, a streak of motion, perhaps a curtain swaying as if it’d been pushed aside for peeping. Nothing. The alley extending to both sides of it remained empty too. She relayed it to her sister in sign when she turned again.

After about three rounds of banging on the door without reaction from inside, the Ahizpa mumbled a string of swears under her breath. In the quiet of the alley it echoed louder than was probably intended. Their target’s name was mixed in with the cusses, defiantly bouncing off the walls as if to mock the Ahizpa’s frustration at it’s owner’s absence.

Kohrenna wondered if that was in line with the target’s personality. She didn’t know anything about her except what her sister had divulged – which was close to nothing. Only that she and the Ahizpa had made a deal, and that she apparently was important enough for a personal visit. And her name, of course. An odd one for a woman, but then again, Kohrenna didn’t understand the naming conventions of any place outside her beloved homeland.

Receiving the command to trade places and pick the lock, Kohrenna wasn’t afforded much time to think about it. She glanced left and right for possible witnesses, crouched down before the door, and produced a set of tools from underneath her coat. Exploring the inner mechanism, she counted the pins, felt for false ones and other anti-picking measures she expected to encounter. An influential figure would invest in security, after all. However, the lock seemed a mere standard one she’d have no trouble with. It smelled like a trap. A suspicion only strengthened when she cautiously began to apply torque to the lock and found—

“It’s open?”

“Faster than expected. Well done, child,” her sister’s voice sounded from behind, impressed.

For a single moment, Kohrenna considered accepting the credit graciously. Mother knew she was in dire need of a victory, however small. Instead, she turned from the door with confusion showing on her face. “No, I mean it’s already open, Sister.”

Her sister, already vigilant, grew closer to tense. A pensive frown crinkled upon her brow and for a couple seconds she said nothing. “You suspect a trap?” she asked.

Though she replied an affirmative, Kohrenna wasn’t certain there was one. While examining the door with great caution, she didn’t notice anything that might betray the presence of a trap. She slid a scrap of paper between the door and its frame, but felt no wires. There was no unnatural tension resting upon the handle when she tested it.

It seemed safe, but she had her sister stand back anyway. As if handling the most fragile object on Idalos, she carefully opened the door a crack, wide enough for her to peer inside.

Beyond lay a dim little room, but the lack of light didn’t hinder her vision in the slightest. Kohrenna spied no ambush lurking in the shadows on the stairs, nor any tripwires right behind the door to trigger any exotic contraptions, mechanisms or alarms. She couldn’t determine the presence of any pressure plates either, nor of flasks of alchemical substances balanced above the doorway.

Rather than abating the knotting tension within her stomach though, the absence of any defensive measures made Kohrenna even more suspicious. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of her nose. Had she overlooked anything? A nagging feeling itched the inside of her skull, yet she couldn’t scratch it. Surely she’d not forgotten to check all the basics, had she? She listed them one by one, counting on her fingers. Those were all of them… right?

Kohrenna swallowed a lump, took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She knew what she had to do next, but that didn’t mean she liked it. She hated acting with uncertainty. It felt all sorts of wrong. It went against all her body’s impulses and instincts.

And yet, she had to do it. The Ahizpa was invaluable, but Kohrenna was replaceable. Even when disliked, her value lied in her usefulness. She had to show that she could be useful, she couldn’t afford to be dead weight, regardless of the circumstance.

Wiping her clammy hands on her clothes, Kohrenna reached for one of the daggers hidden in the folds of her shirt. Inhale, exhale. Deep and slow, counting down from three to zero. Then, bracing, she threw open the door and cautiously stepped inside.

Her senses overclocking, Kohrenna absorbed her environment to the smallest detail, mind taking all that information and seeking for the things she expected to find.

A silhouette pouncing from the space behind the door or underneath the stairs. The telltale snap of a hidden thread, or the shifting of a trapped tile under her weight.

For a cacophony immediately after.

The crash of a baton on the back of her head, the sharp sting of a dagger between her ribs. Glass ampules shattering to release a flash of roaring fire or the sizzling burn of harmful reagents vaporizing her flesh. The twang of a crossbow’s string launching a deadly bolt. Perhaps something silent, a puff of wind caressing her cheek, followed by a poison dart piercing her skin.

Nothing of the sort happened. There only was an open door and an empty room.

The air inside her rushed out in relief.

“Entrance hall is safe,” Kohrenna signed to her sister, heartbeat and breath gradually steadying.

Then she noticed the second door, and all of it spiked anew.

One door suspiciously unlocked to trick intruders into second-guessing themselves. The apparent safety lulling them into a false sense of security. Then the second door, carelessly opened, actually trapped.

Beads of sweat pearled down the bridge of Kohrenna’s nose. Outside, the Ahizpa was quickly approaching. Kohrenna allowed herself a silent cuss. There was no time to check for traps before she got there. Correcting her prior assessment and asking the Ahizpa to wait a little bit longer would be losing face. Admittance of an incomplete investigation, and inability to detect obvious dangers at first glance.

She’d finally received a scrap of approval from the Ahizpa, she didn’t want to follow it up with more disappointment so soon after. If she were to receive that look, Kohrenna would wither and die.

But what to do? Other than recklessly throwing open the door, there was no time for anything. Doing that would certainly set off all traps—

“There’s no traps there,” her sister’s voice said from right behind her. Kohrenna jumped, barely keeping in a surprised yelp. She hadn’t heard her approach.

“How can you tell, Sister?” Had she examined the doorframe herself? Surely her sister hadn’t been standing behind her that long. She couldn’t possibly… read minds, could she?

“Traps, here—” the Ahizpa said, waving to the front door “—are for security, protection. This is a residence, not a secure vault. Traps on the inner doors would hinder its inhabitants. Do you lock every door in a house, or only the outer ones?” She headed for the stairs, beginning to climb them before Kohrenna could protest. “There’ll be none here either, for the same reason.”

“Doesn’t seem like something to take for granted,” Kohrenna mumbled, flinching with every squeaky tread her sister placed weight on. A terrible accident was bound to happen, and she could do nothing but look on, terrified. “Never hurts to be cautious.”

The Ahizpa Buruzagia stopped midway, glancing down. “It is the reckless hare who gets herself snared by the hunter’s trap, but the one that checks every tree and bush gets caught by her dogs. Balance, child, balance. Caution is good, but in excess it becomes nothing more than paranoia.” She continued her way, wood creaking underfoot. “I’ll check the upper level, you do the ground floor. Let me know if you find anything.”

She continued her way, eventually reaching the top and disappearing from view. Kohrenna sighed long and deep, the tension in her chest waning slowly. Despite her sister’s reprimand, she checked every last corner of the connecting door anyway.

There were no traps though, just like the Ahizpa said. Kohrenna expected nothing less, and yet, she didn’t let go of the idea that it was best to be careful and thorough. It only took one little mistake to be visited by Vri and the Twins.

Should she double-check her work? What if the traps were so well hidden—

Maybe she was getting a tad too bogged down scrutinizing every square inch. Her sister might be right, perhaps it was straying from sensible caution into unhealthy compulsion. Shaking her head, Kohrenna pushed the door open and softly padded inside.

The room was… bare. That’s the only way she could describe it. The building didn’t strike her as a home, or even a place that was lived in. While furniture filled the space, that’s seemed to be its only purpose. The table wasn’t clothed and didn’t carry any decorative pieces. The cupboards held no plates or cups or bowls, no cutlery, cooking utensils, pots or pans. Both in the living room and the kitchen, all were empty.

The broom closet, which by all rights should have been stuffed to the brim with all sorts of buckets, mops, and –of course—brooms, wasn’t. All Kohrenna found there was a layer of dust and long deserted cobwebs.

The small pantry suffered much the same fate as the closet. It contained no foodstuffs, no bottles of cider or wine, no kegs of mead, not even a mousetrap to keep rats at bay. Only lonely shelves. At least the pantry wasn’t completely empty – though it was a near thing. On a high shelf Kohrenna spotted a dead mouse. It had probably starved.

Returning to the entrance hall, she searched the space underneath the stairs. Perhaps she might find some indication of the building being inhabited like her sister claimed. Like a coatrack, or a line of footwear.

But the shadows there were just as empty as they’d been everywhere else, and contained no rack and no coats. Nor shoes or boots or slippers. She didn’t even see a single lost sock hiding in a forgotten corner.

This house had been long since abandoned.

Kohrenna stared up the stairs at the floor above where the Ahizpa investigated. Did she know this was a fruitless endeavor, that there was nothing to find here at all? If she had to guess, she’d say they had the wrong address. Perhaps the Ahizpa had made an honest mistake.

No, that was nothing short of impossible. The Ahizpa Buruzagia made no careless blunders – they were exactly where she meant them to be. In other words, if there was seemingly nothing here, the Ahizpa was well aware of that fact.

Another test then?

Rather than call out to report she’d not found anything, Kohrenna released the breath meant for shouting. Another thought had popped up. What if this wasn’t a test, and Kohrenna had missed something obvious? Perhaps… perhaps she should double check. Test or no, she’d rather be certain of her assessment, lest she disappoint her sister even further.

Frown etched on her brow, she scoured the entire floor in reverse order as she tried to take in even the most minute details.

She passed by the dinner table, checking underneath it and its chairs. She didn’t expect to find anything of note, but she wanted peace of mind. Except, with her face this close to the floor, she did notice something remarkable: the lack of dust basically everywhere.

Discounting the broom closet and panty, of course – they held plenty.

An abandoned house should have all its surfaced cloaked in layers of dust and should smell of trapped, stale air. However, here the floor was fairly clean and the air fresh. Someone definitely stopped by to keep the house from rotting.

This had to be some sort of safehouse or other infrequently used location for their target to hide herself should her enemies and rivals grow too bold.

No, that didn’t feel right. A safehouse needed to be kept ready to be used, but this place definitely wasn’t. It didn’t have any tableware and cleaning utensils, and the pantry wasn’t stocked with dried or brined foods.

It made no sense.

Even the kitchen, the kitchen! She threw open the cupboards again, one by one, well aware what she’d find. Or rather, wouldn’t find. They held no pots, no ladles or knives. Not a single cauldron or skillet. No tub to wash vegetables in. There wasn’t even a cutting board or cooking oil on the counter. Only a single woven bag.

A woven bag?

Her head snapped towards it as if drawn by a strong force. How—? When—?

Surely Kohrenna hadn’t overlooked something this noticeable the first time around. It sat right in the open, practically begging to be found, to be seen.

She approached gingerly, eyes wide and unblinking, as if she feared she might startle it with sudden motions, or that losing sight of it for a moment would make it vanish. It didn’t. It stayed right where it was, alone on the countertop, leaning against the wall. It sagged a bit, the contents inside shaping its form. Slowly, ever so slowly, Kohrenna reached out with a finger, and lightly touched the rough exterior.

Undeniably real.

So she had missed it. Bags didn’t plop themselves on the counter, much less appear from thin air. And yet…

“I don’t understand,” she muttered, “Has this always been there?”

“No, I just put it there a moment ago,” a voice behind her said. It spoke Common in male and mirthful tones.

Kohrenna whirled around –dagger in hand in an instant—to find a male with an insufferable expression perched upon the kitchen table. Amused at her alarmed state, he grinned in a most annoying way. So much, in fact, that if she had to describe his face, ‘punchable’ would be the only adjective to come to mind.

She didn’t know how he’d managed to sneak up behind her, much less place the bag on the counter and clamber onto the table while she was going through the kitchen cabinets, but that hardly mattered in the moment.

“You know, when I moved into this place, they told me this area had some rat problems, but I’ve never seen such a big one before,” he said, tapping his chin. “Never quite such an abhorrent one either.”

“You is sent by the Oberan?” Kohrenna interjected, the Common feeling unnatural in her mouth. “Where is she?”

He raised an eyebrow and his grin diminished to a confused smile. “I suppose, in a way I am? And in much the same, I am not. Who can say?”

Kohrenna clicked her tongue. She had no time for a dimwitted male who responded in riddles. A few seconds, she pondered the best course of action. Her sister’s instructions were to call if Kohrenna found anything. Easy expectations to meet.

Without warning, she charged. Knife primed, she launched explosively towards the male, covering two steps worth of space in a single bound. It’d take one more leap to close the distance, then but a simple strike to the temple with the pommel of her blade to knock him out cold.

The sight of the subdued male would be proof of Kohrenna’s competency when she did call her sister down. She might even be praised; her sister did like decisive action. Together they could then interrogate he male to learn of Oberan’s whereabouts.

A straightforward plan. All the simpler with her prey so caught off guard their mind needed a moment to catch up, freezing their body in place. Kohrenna couldn’t have wished for an easier target.

Without warning, her knee buckled.

She stumbled, missing her step. Momentum still carried her forward, and with great effort she hauled her unwilling leg in place, barely catching herself. It was so heavy – both her legs were. So tired. The knife in her hand weighed ten times as much as it should. Kohrenna’s whole body felt a sudden torrent of lethargy wash over it, slowing her. Weakening her. Dragging her down.

There was no more strength in her muscles, no more tension in any part of her body. Her joints shook and quivered. A thick haze invaded her mind. Her vision blurred and swam. Like she’d been running for hours on end, no breaks in between. Far away, metal clattered. Something struck the side of her numb head.

Kohrenna surrendered to the sudden dark.

[Oberan]

The Naerikk’s dagger slipped from her weakened grip and clattered loud on the floorboards. She herself followed not a second later, collapsing in a heap as strength and consciousness failed her. On the way down she hit her head on the side of the table, hard.

Oberan winced at the smack and quicky crawled off the table to check up on her. No blood to be seen, no visible head wound either. Hands shaking with stolen adrenaline, he carefully felt for the girl’s pulse at the side of her throat. Slow but strong, and she still drew breath too. He let out a relieved sigh. It wouldn’t be the first time an unfortunate fall had led to premature death.

The stairs down the hall creaked soft and rhythmically – a second intruder? Oberan swiveled behind a corner, out of immediate sight, then up the wall to hang from the ceiling. Barely a moment later the door swung open, soft footsteps traversing the floorboards as someone cautiously slunk across floorboards.

Nearly a minute passed before they approached the unconscious form of the Naerikk girl. Crumpled before the open doorway between living room and kitchen, the she lied in full view of anyone who so much as glanced in that direction. However, the second intruder was too clever by half to immediately rush up without first assessing the situation. After all, the unconscious girl could be bait, deliberately positioned to lure them into a trap.

The second intruder finally entered the kitchen and Oberan’s field of vision. Another Naerikk, older and familiar. She held a combat stance, knife at the ready, moving slow and careful. Her eyes flitted to and fro, on the lookout for danger. Oberan dropped silently behind her and moved counter to the sweeping of her gaze, remaining out of sight.

Finding no ambush waiting to descend upon her, the Naerikk crouched next to her unconscious companion. Still attentive to her surroundings, she felt for the girl’s pulse and breath, and gently shook her shoulder. When that didn’t work, she produced a vial of smelling salts.

“Don’t bother,” Oberan said, immediately flipping away to evade the dagger speeding in his direction. He landed lightly on the table, barely disturbing it. The Naerikk eased up, abandoning her combat stance, and rolled her eyes. Her dagger vanished into one of the folds of her clothes.

“Oberan.”

“Aeyali.” He sank down on the table, finding a comfortable position to sit. “Long time no see.”

“Quite. You look better than some seasons ago.”

Oberan studied Aeyali for a moment. They were an evergreen race, the Naerikk. Aging until they were fully grown, then no more. Their beauty preserved as decades passed, like pressed flowers. In that respect, they were not dissimilar to Mortalborn.

Yet, Aeyali had changed. Half-moons of purple sagged beneath her eyes. Lines creased her face around the sockets and on the brow. She looked exhausted, and it made her appear older. Social decorum demanded he ignore it.

“You look worse,” Oberan said instead.

She grimaced and crossed her arms below her chest in indignation. “Not a thing you are supposed to say to a lady.” She sighed. “But yes, we will admit we have felt better.”

“And I’ve felt worse,” Oberan shrugged. “To what do I owe your visit?”

Aeyali again crouched next to the unconscious girl to and made her inhale vapors from the smelling salts. For a moment, the girl stirred, facial muscles twitching as if experiencing a vivid dream. However, she did not wake.

A brief hint of worry crossed Aeyali’s features. “Before we get into that, dear, do you mind telling us what you’ve done to our ward?” There was no mistaking the edge in her voice.

“Oh, she’ll be snoozing for a while longer. She’s in no danger – she’ll wake up on her own soon enough. Though I can jolt her awake if necessary.”

The tension in Aeyali’s posture melted away and she sighed, her expression consisting of equal parts relief and disappointment. “You did something unnecessary again, didn’t you?” she mumbled in Grevokian.

“She tried to stab me!” Oberan exclaimed, indignant, “Hell, so did you!”

“Terribly sorry, dear.” She didn’t sound particularly remorseful. Oberan wondered if that would have been different if she managed to actually ram her blade between his ribs. “We Naerikk can be rather jumpy, and we don’t enjoy being taken by surprise.”

“And I don’t enjoy coming home to unexpected guests nosing through my furniture.”

“You left the front door open.”

“So? An open door does not equal permission to enter uninvited.”

“Oberan dear.” Aeyali raised her eyebrows at him. “We seem to remember you make a living off that very thing. Worse still, the buildings you invite yourself into tend to be locked.”

He snorted. “No door is ever locked to me. The difference lies in that I don’t make excuses.”

In response Aeyali rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Can you just wake the girl, please?” She put an emphasis on the last word, more exacerbated than a desperate plea, but it worked its magic just as well.

“But of course. You only had to ask.” Oberan spread his hands magnanimously, funneling his own excess Thrill into the girl on the floor. Immediately the trade-off reared its ugly head, a thousand little aches and muscle cramps cropping up, centered on his limbs.

Knocking someone out required draining a considerable amount of their Thrill, which was added to Oberan’s own. It allowed him to push his body beyond its limits and overexert it just as easily as a result. Even during rest, the extra Thrill put stress on the body and it took its toll.

While pain emerged, the world became a little duller as Oberan’s senses left their heightened state and returned to normal. Sounds quieted, the room darkened, his vision fuzzed a little. The grainy feel of the table underneath him barely registered anymore, and the lines on Aeyali’s face softened to where they were barely noticeable with a casual glance.

At the same time, the girl on the floor awoke near instantly. Her eyes shot wide open, pupils flitting from one corner to the other and back. She scrambled to her feet, reaching for and fumbling with her blade before retreating a few steps. Away from the kitchen table, looking not unlike a distressed cat.

She hissed a string of Grevokian cusses that made Oberan raise an eyebrow. The names she called him, colorful enough to make salted seamen blush bright red, lured an amused smirk to his lips. Mixed in with the swears were demands to know what he’d done to her, to which Oberan of course responded with the same amused expression as he did her insults.

Brows knitting together, the girl tightened her grip on her blade, and shifted her stance from wary to aggressive. Oberan prepared himself, again reaching for the well of power within his soul—

“Stand down, Kohrenna,” Aeyali ordered, placing a firm hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Kohrenna jumped, surprised to find her sister behind her, but had no intention to oblige. “Sister, this idiot male has disgraced me. He refused to answer my questions and brazenly looks down on us. I will erase the smirk off his lips and put him back in his place!”

She tried to take a step forward, but Aeyali’s hand kept her anchored. “I told you to stand down.”

“But, Sister— The male, he mocks us openly,” she protested, her glare fixated on Oberan’s grin. “He needs to be reminded of—”

“Stand. Down.” Aeyali’s fingers dug in the flesh of the girl’s shoulder, causing her to gasp in surprise rather than pain. Neither Aeyali’s expression nor tone of voice strayed from patient and pleasant. “You should do well to remember your place yourself. Which one of us is in charge here? Do we need to give you a hint? You are to obey the orders you are given. You want to impress? Do as you are bid.”

Kohrenna stiffened for a moment, shock breaking through the anger. Her shoulders slumped, and she lowered the knife. In mere moments her body language shifted from scorned fury to admonished little girl.

“Yes, Sister. Apologies, Sister.” A silent sigh escaped her, shoulders rising for a second only to sink down deeper. Then she steeled herself, standing straight and clenching her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. She performed the gestures required for making a request from a sister of higher station. Extremely formal, and basically foolproof, though embarrassing in equal measure. “Sister, I wish for your permission to—”

“Denied.”

“But, Sister, I was disgraced by no fault of my own! It was no fair showing, he took me by surprise!” Kohrenna pouted.

“Always make use of every advantage you have. I believe that is what you were taught, no? Your failure is your responsibility, not his. There is no shame defeat, as long as you learn from it. No matter how skilled you are, it means that, at least in the moment, your opponent was superior. Find out what went wrong, reflect on it, and improve.”

Frustration showed on Kohrenna’s face, drawing her brows together and making the corners of her mouth droop. “But Sister, he’s male!” Her eyes never left Oberan. She looked down her nose at him like he was a particularly mangy mongrel. “It was a fluke. I’m sure of it, and my name will be forever tainted if I do not rectify this!”

“Fool girl,” Aeyali scoffed. “If you run headlong into a wall, the outcome remains the same regardless of how many times you do it. You either climb over or find a way around.”

Kohrenna set her jaw in defiance. “I am Naerikk. Daughter of shadow. I can take a pathetic male.”

There came a deep, deep sigh charged with no small amount of frustration. The mask of smiles and friendliness cracked. “Your mind and judgement are both clouded with prejudice. Look at him! You think he is the least bit threatened by you?”

“He should be. But he is a stupid male. Underestimating a Naerikk only adds to my advantage. And I—”

A sudden slap to the side of her head made Kohrenna bite the rest of what she had been about to say in half. Aeyali glowered, eyes ablaze with frigid rage and mouth a thin, pale line. Kohrenna felt for the area around her ear where she’d been struck, and glanced at her sister with disbelief. Aeyali met her stare with her own, unyielding as cold steel.

“You overestimate your own prowess, child!” she bit. “Your arrogance makes you blind to the truth and deaf to my guidance. You shall listen to me and you shall listen well—”

Aeyali launched into a stern lecture, of clipped words and long sentences, none sounding too patient. Hoping to instill in her ward the idea that not all things –or people for that matter—were exactly what they appeared to be. Outright refusal to even try to see beyond the surface layer only resulted in nasty and otherwise avoidable surprises.

It proved insufficient to permeate the girl’s thick skull however, much to Aeyali’s building chagrin. Though she came close to ripping her hair out by the root, she managed to retain her composure. It wouldn’t do to lose control in front of Oberan.

Oberan… A perfect example of deceptive appearances – not a surprise considering his lineage. Now there was an idea…

She turned to address him, and he glanced up from picking dirt from under his nails to point at himself in feigned surprise. “And here I thought you had completely forgotten I existed,” he said, deadpan.

She ignored him. “Oberan, care to introduce yourself to this obstinate child?”

“Seems to me you just did.”

Simultaneously, the Naerikk girl piped up. “This is Oberan? The male?” She shuffled nervously in place.

Aeyali pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deep. A tired sound. “Oberan, if you would be so kind.”

“Sure thing.” He cleared his throat for a moment, and switched to Grevokian. “Greetings, Kohrenna. Am Oberan, idiot male. Not speak Grevokian very good, but hearing and most understand, yes.”

The girl froze like a scoundrel realizing mid-sneak they’re surrounded by angry guards. Her eyes almost popped out of her sockets, and she paled visibly. Oberan laughed on the inside.

“We were hoping for something more… elaborate.” Aeyali pursed her lips and he knew exactly what she meant. “Would you mind?”

Oberan shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“This is Oberan, Mortalborn of Larceny, Thrills and Mischief. Son of Queen Audrae. Given the thickness of his blood, one could say he is Prince of Augiery, albeit in name alone.”

All remaining color drained from Kohrenna’s face hearing those words. In fact, she appeared rather nauseous. She stared unblinking at Oberan for a while, brow crumpled, fists clenched and atremble.

And then—then she burst out laughing. Or at least forced a noise that approached it, grating on the ears of all who heard. Not even a hint of a smile tugged at her lips, no mirth danced in her eyes, and when she finally stopped, it was not a gradual thing, but sudden and immediate.

“Nice try, Sister, but less outrageous claims would be more suitable for testing my critical thinking. I am not so naïve as to blindly believe everything you say.” She added hastily: “Not to offend, of course, I truly value your wisdom and advise.”

Aeyali watched her silently. Oberan did too.

Kohrenna blinked, licked her lips, and waited for her sister to praise her for seeing through the deception. Slowly she began to realize those words weren’t coming. “You can’t be serious.”

More silence. All the reply she needed.

“Sister, that’s blasphemous! The Great Mother had a son, a male? That’s impossible! Queen Audrae cannot have birthed something so imperfect and flawed! To even suggest such a thing is—is preposterous! Have you lost your mind? Who convinced you of such a gross and reprehensible lie?”

Oberan shifted atop the table. The motion attracted Kohrenna’s glare, reminding her of his presence. She immediately raised her dagger, tip trained on his throat. “It was you, wasn’t it? Going around calling yourself son of Mother Audrae, and prince of our fair Augiery… have you no shame? To even suggest a lowly, pathetic male has any right to succeed the Shadow Queen and defile her throne? The nerve of you!”

“Kohrenna,” Aeyali spoke calm but firm, “as hard as it may be to accept, this is not a lie.”

The girl shook her head vehemently. “No, Sister, this is madness, not truth. Our Queen’s corpse is not yet cold and already there are vultures pecking at its innards. We all want to believe some part of her still exists here on Idalos, but that only makes us desperate to find it. It’s a trick, Sister, he’s trying to exploit our grief!”

She stared down Oberan with bottomless loathing, and once again raised her blade. “I will not fall for your deception. You have gone too far – besmirching the Great Mother’s name with your horrific lies. Removing that filthy tongue from your mouth is not enough punishment for your transgressions! I will have your life as well!”

Aeyali cuffed the girl in the head. “You are way out of line, you insolent child,” she intoned, fury peeking through cracks in the controlled tone.

Kohrenna swiveled instantly, swallowing a lump and shrinking in on herself upon seeing her sister’s expression. While Aeyali’s face itself was carefully blank, her eyes blazed vibrant and terrible. Anger rolled off her like distorted air rippling above an inferno.

“I do not like the sound of what you are insinuating, and I will not tolerate you speaking to me like that. I’ll have you know I am quite capable of discerning truth from lie! You think I am quick label anyone –male or otherwise—child of Queen Audrae? I do not call him her son lightly! This lie you speak of is truth shared by none other than Mother Audrae herself! She named him her son, and as much as we may dislike it, there is no arguing with what is.”

“Mother herself? That’s not—why would she—?” Kohrenna stammered, reeling.

“You doubt my word, child? Would I dare speak a lie that abhorrent, to not only proclaim her child to be male, but to put those words in the Queen’s mouth as well?” Aeyali almost hissed. “Mother help you if you do. Mother protect you from the wrath I shall bear down upon you for such impudence!”

Kohrenna threw up her hands as if to shield herself preemptively. “No, Sister, no! Of course not! No such thoughts occurred to me!” And if they had, even she knew better than to outright voice them.

Aeyali harrumphed, anger not abated with but a few placating words. However, she regained control of her expression and body language, and hid her emotions behind a façade of pleasant calmness once again. “Good. Now then, you have distracted from our business here plenty already. I’ll have words once we get back – it’s clear you are in dire need of disciplining. For now, step back and shut up, you know your role, yes?”

Shoulders slumped and face ashen, Kohrenna nodded. She positioned herself near the doorway to the living room. While her gaze rested on Oberan, her mind was elsewhere. Likely beating herself up and fretting about the punishment that awaited her back at the offices.

“So, Aeyali,” Oberan said, uncertain what to make of all this bickering, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit? Don’t tell me you were in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. I wouldn’t believe it even if it was true.”

“Afraid not, no. Work, as you might expect. Though, as we have mentioned last time, we do thoroughly enjoy your company. We would not be opposed to meeting outside of purely business-related matters.”

“I do believe I stated my lack of interest quite clearly last time.”

“Interests may change with time.” She sashayed closer, head slightly tilted, reaching to cup his cheek with elegant fingers.

He shied back just the tiniest bit, but it was plenty. “Not for someone who does not see me when they see me.”

Aeyali’s hand faltered. It hung in the space between them for only a moment, rejected, then fell back to her side. Agitation flickered over her features. “Pity.”

“I’m sure. Aside from hoping I give in to temptation, what business do you have with me?”

“Business it is then.” She grabbed a chair from the living room, signing to Kohrenna in passing. The girl immediately snapped out of her reverie and jumped at attention, no longer leaning against the wall.

“We shall get right to the point,” Aeyali said, “As we’ve not heard from you in some time, we wished to check in with you regarding the deal we made. Have you made any progress, anything new to share?”

“Deal?” Oberan frowned.

The annoyed look she gave him crossed in the territory of a scowl. She didn’t even bother to hide it. “When you visited us last, you agreed to investigate the rumors of Mother’s death, did you not? Their origin and validity.”

“Ah.” Oberan did remember something of the sort, though he recalled no deal. “Last time, I walked away believing you put no stock in those rumors.”

“We don’t trust the source of that information on principle,” she responded coolly. “However, the more time passes, the more they seem to have been truthful.” Much to her regret. “Still, the rumors remain unverified, and thus should not be blindly accepted as complete fact.”

A faint spark of hope flickered behind Aeyali’s gaze. A stubborn remnant of what had once been a roaring flame. No wonder she looked so exhausted. The tiniest of smiles tickled Oberan’s lips for a moment. No joy in it, only pity. That spark would not last, it would not be reignited. He knew it as certain as day and night.

“Hm. Well. I’ve nothing to tell you.” Anger flashed like lightning across Aeyali features. Behind her, Kohrenna tensed. Oberan continued: “I said I would consider informing you of any findings. You said you would make it worth my while. That’s the extent of that ‘deal’. To me, that’s not a binding agreement to do as asked. It’s a suggestion.”

Thunder followed the lightning. “You do not intend to keep your word then, yes?”

“There’s no word for me to keep – I swore no oaths, I made no promises.” The Naerikk scowled openly at those words. Oberan met her glare without flinching. "For what it’s worth, I did what I said I would: I considered it. But I have no findings to report, since I haven’t investigated anything."

“You haven’t?” She squinted in suspicion. “We do seem to have received reports of you running around with some girl from Scalvoris. No need to look so surprised; you spend an awful lot of time together. It’d be strange if we didn’t know about it.” She cocked her head and pursed her lips, appraising his expression and body language. ”Do not lie to us, Oberan, you are withholding information. Why keep it to yourself? Our goals align, no?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Oberan said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been busy with more important matters, and I’ve truthfully not thought to ask.”

“Matters more important than Queen Audrae?” From the way she said it, Oberan got the feeling Aeyali didn’t believe such things existed. In fact, she looked offended by the very notion. “Do tell. What reasons do you have for meeting the girl, if not to discuss the rumors?”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s none of your business.” He beamed her a smile as radiant as it was fake.

Her brow furrowed. Clearly not the answer she wanted to hear. “If it pertains to Queen Audrae,” she bit, “it is.”

“It doesn’t.”

She heaved an annoyed sigh. Her shoulders sagged for a moment, and Aeyali looked every bit as exhausted as she felt. This whole outing had earned her nothing but a headache and too much pent-up frustration. “So, what have you done then? It’s been seasons since last time we met! By your own admittance, you’ve not investigated anything. You are in contact with a potential source of information, but don’t use it, and –from what we understand—you aren’t planning to either. Have you at least started preparations to leave for Scalvoris or Rharne?”

Oberan stared at her, puzzled. “Why? I don’t want to visit either. There’s nothing there for me. It’s the epicenter of the Immortals’ squabbles and I’m not feeling like I want to get caught up in one of those right now.”

“Which is exactly why you should go! No doubt the Immortals are at the root of the rumors, and last time you said—”

“I say a lot of things.” He shrugged and put his hands up apologetically, preempting the glares he received from both Naerikk. “Look, I’m sure that at the time I did indeed intend to sail to Scalvoris and Rharne to investigate the rumors of mother’s demise at their source. I might still go there, eventually. Right now, however, there’s a mountain of things I need to come to terms with. I have to center myself, find my footing. There’s no rushing that, unfortunately.”

“Center yourself. That’s one way to put it.” Aeyali produced a venomous chuckle. “Frolic about with the Scalvorian girl, you mean, yes? Distracting, is she? If improvement of your focus is what you require, we can have it arranged.”

An icy calm spread over Oberan’s mind. Crisp and clear as glass, and so frigid it caused burns when touched. He locked eyes with the Naerikk for a few moments, and when he finally spoke his tone of voice resembled a frozen river cracking underfoot. “You will leave her alone. She has nothing to do with all this.”

“We’re sure she doesn’t. However, does she not provide you a convenient excuse? A vulnerable damsel visiting from the far-away Scalvoris. Unfamiliar with the city, all alone except for her cousin who’s chasing tail all day. Someone needs to guide her, point out the dangers lurking within Etzos before she walks right into them – who better than the oh so heroic, kindhearted, self-sacrificing Oberan? It’s perfect, really. She’s young and impressionable and pretty – what better audience to show off for? What better way to feel special and appreciated? Oh, but now you have to postpone leaving the city… can’t be helped…”

He quirked an eyebrow, annoyed. “That’s not—”

“And you don’t find it odd she gravitated to you, specifically? Of everyone in Etzos, of all people, she attached herself to you.” She raised her brows, fixing him with an insinuating stare.

“Coincidence. Wrong place, wrong time. I tend to attract curious minds. And this girl has curiosity aplenty and no ability to resist its pull.”

“All the more reason why you should be there to teach her the dangers of Etzos, yes?” Aeyali finished, shaking her head. “Perhaps she merely stumbled across you, yes. Or, she sought you out specifically, and is making you dance to her tune. Mark our words, that girl has ulterior motive.”

“Unlike you, of course.” Oberan rolled his eyes as he waved the warning away. Its validity was questionable, and Natalia didn’t seem the type to manipulate and deceive. Especially not so subtly Oberan wouldn’t notice. He’d explored that line of thinking himself too, after the first few meetings. All his questioning, snooping and eavesdropping had resulted in the discovery of no nefarious activity or intent. Natalia was exactly as she appeared: genuine.

“Either way,” Aeyali continued, slowly crossing one long leg over the other, “we sincerely doubt her objective involves keeping you from fulfilling our deal. The issue lies with you then, Oberan. You renounced it. We would like to know why.”

“There is no deal! Never has been. Not even a promise. Like I said, I am not opposed to seeking answers and finding out exactly what happened, how mother died, and who or what killed her. I want to know just as much as you!” He sighed. “I need time to think and reevaluate myself and my priorities. I need to figure those out before I do anything else. Before I can do anything else. Mother’s death is not something I can process with an hour of soul searching, then go galivanting around all happy go lucky. My whole world was turned upside down.”

“So was ours,” Aeyali said, an edge to her voice, her eyes gleaming with an unexpected wetness. “Our Mother dead, her fair Augiery crumbling in her absence. All of us left with questions but no answers. We thought we might manage without the Great Mother’s guidance and wisdom – we have in the past whenever she left Augiery for lengthy spans of time. If only this was no different…

“Rather than unite and lead us, the Vices vie for power, fighting among themselves. Desiring to present themselves as savior of the Naerikk, and lead Augiery to prosperity in spite of Queen Audrae’s death. Yet all they accomplish only divides Augiery yet further. They care for titles, power and prestige, not the Sisters or the city they claim to want to save and protect.”

There fell a silence, wrapping the little kitchen in its gossamer weave. Aeyali slumped in her seat, suddenly so small and frail. Her young ward still stood in her spot, quiet and looking miserable –either from the admonishment from earlier, or from all the information she’d been privy to.

Hesitant, Oberan spoke up, his words tugging at the silence until it gradually began to rip.

“As sorry as I am to hear that, I don’t know how anything I do would help. Setting out on a journey across the ocean, seeking answers? At best I might find a clue in half a season, and by the time it is relayed to you…” He shook his head. “Presume I did discover all the answers. Perhaps I found out someone was goaded into killing her by another Immortal. What would it matter? What would it accomplish?”

“It would unite us once more!” Aeyali said, planting both feet firmly on the ground and almost leaping from her chair. “Righteous fury will bring all Sisters together and bridge the rifts between the Vices’ factions! Augiery will heal itself and emerge from its greatest trial stronger than before!” Softly then: “Like Mother would want it to.”

Oberan glanced down, tracing the grainy pattern of the table with finger a until he encountered a crack where the wood had split. “Vengeance… it won’t keep Augiery from falling apart. It’ll just delay it.” He breathed long and deep. “The Naerikk will unite to join the crusade against the poor sap who got roped into some Immortal’s scheme, sure. And what when your common enemy is dealt with? A house built on sand will not last.

“But let’s say it will. Perhaps you focus your ire on the Immortal responsible for masterminding mother’s death. Start wars and conquer land. Lay waste to cities and become the scourge of Idalos while you demand that Immortal’s head. In no time at all the usual Immortals will rally their followers and will see the Naerikk wiped out.”

He ran a finger along the split in the table, up and down and up again. He didn’t look at the Naerikk, but he didn’t need to. The intensity of Aeyali’s scowl was tangible, it burned his skin like red-glowing iron. “I won’t have part in that. Your quest for vengeance won’t bring mother back. It won’t make you feel any better. I won’t get any satisfaction out of it either, so why should I bother? I might as well sort out my own feelings before I do anything drastic.”

“You, Oberan, are a liar.” Words forced out through clenched teeth, drenched in venom. Oberan finally glanced up. Aeyali’s demeanor had shifted. Whatever softness had bled into her tone and body language before had began dissipating while he spoke, and now none was left. Standing as tall as her height allowed, she glowered a fearsome scowl. Her glare possessed a harshness it had not before.

Harshness, and no small amount of open disdain. It stung more than Oberan would have expected.

“All we hear are pitiful excuses. Center yourself, sort out your feelings.” She scoffed. “Me, me, me, me, me! That’s all it boils down to. Your priority should be investigating our Great Mother’s death and finding her killer! You came to us sullen and solemn after hearing those rumors, but it was only an act, yes? You only wanted to build rapport. Establish ties with us for any future need you may have.”

“That’s not—”

Aeyali’s voice only swelled in volume. Her words became sharp as daggers, meant to wound. She pointed and gestured with furious motions, her features twisted into a terrible mask by fulminating anger.

“You promised to help figure out the death of our Queen, but truthfully you didn’t care one bit! You never intended to lend us any aid. You’ve done nothing but lie to our face! And we, fools that we are, we believed you. We know better now. You’re no kindred spirit – the only thing you care about is yourself. Not us, not fair Augiery, not Etzos, not the girl, not even our Mother!”

“You’re wrong!” He slammed the table hard enough for the noise to boom through the entire house.

Kohrenna tensed, hand reaching for the dagger in her coat.

Rubbing the side of his head, eyes at his feet, Oberan released a deep breath from the nose. It smelled of profound sadness and incoming thunderclouds. A ball of lightning hummed to life within his chest. “I care. She is my mother. Of course I do.” Hoarse and guilty. A confession.

The response came as a dismissive snort. “Another lie! You’ll not fool us with melodrama. We know Mother’s death didn’t affect you in the slightest. We shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been bitter. Envious of us. Hateful. You always resented Mother for your own failings – at birth and in life! We’re sure your heart leapt when you heard the rumors of her demise!”

Oberan tensed. His inner sky darkened blacker than pitch, but he managed to suppress an imminent thunderclap. He swallowed a couple dozen words that threatened to erupt, kept them confined inside. Aeyali observed him with a cruel smirk, and he’d not give her the satisfaction of seeing him take the bait.

Deliberately slow he slid off the table, taking deep breaths all the way. It helped him attain an outward calm at least, and he pretended to casually lean on the kitchen table. An illusion broken only by the hardness in his stare, and his hands gripping the table’s edge so tight his knuckles had gone beyond pale. Aeyali noticed, of course, such was her expertise. Her smirk widened to a triumphant grin, no less spiteful than before.

“If that’s all you have to say,” Oberan spoke, placid but foreboding like the sea before a storm, “then I bid you to leave. Else I’ll throw you out myself.” He stepped towards her.

Something flashed at the edge of his vision, speeding towards him from the side. A chair clattered against the floorboards. The air rung with the sound of a shout given no voice, breath caught in a throat.

Oberan intercepted Kohrenna’s lunging stab, fingers wrapping around her boney wrist, and stopped it midway. The girl snarled, her dagger no-where near the throat it still aimed for.

She struggled to free herself from his vice-like grip for half a moment, then changed to a more combative approach, and tried to kick him in the groin. With a quick yank on her arm, Oberan forced her off balance before she could land it. In the same motion he twisted her arm painfully behind her back, and caught the dagger she dropped. In only a second or two he had Kohrenna at his mercy, her own blade pressed against the flesh of her throat.

“Do not test me, little one,” Oberan growled. “I’ve no patience left for it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Aeyali hissed. The cruel triumph she’d shown before had made room for distress. Her chair lied abandoned on its side. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret. Think carefully about the fight you are picking right now.”

She reached into the folds of her clothes, her stance aggressive. Oberan put some more pressure on the Kohrenna’s throat, and raised his eyebrows at the older Naerikk.

“I’d tell you to do the same,” he retorted. “Do chose your next words and actions carefully.”

“You wouldn’t—” She cut herself off when she caught Kohrenna’s anxious glances. The girl kept herself very, very still. The steel reflected in her wide eyes, and tiny drops of sweat pearled on her brow – the blade at her throat had her terrified.

Aeyali slowly let go of her hidden daggers, brought her empty hands out in the open, and abandoned her combat stance. She exhaled a long and sharp breath. “Fine.”

While she didn’t think Oberan would go so far as to actually cut Kohrenna’s throat, Aeyali couldn’t risk it. The girl may have gotten herself into this mess, but as her chaperone the responsibility was Aeyali’s – she should have predicted and prevented this. She also shouldn’t have antagonized Oberan. This argument really wasn’t worth any sacrifices – be it lives or potential assets.

“We’ll leave, Oberan, but we will be back to continue this conversation.”

“Just get out.” He shoved Kohrenna away, sending her stumbling and flailing.

Aeyali caught her before she could fall, asked her if she was alright. The girl nodded. The joints in her wrist were sore from being forced into an unnatural position, her body trembled from the adrenaline, and her skin was soaked with cold sweat, but she wasn’t injured. The blade hadn’t even left a mark on her throat.

It bolstered Kohrenna’s confidence, and she armed herself with a second dagger – hidden in her boot. “Sister, with the two of us together, I’m sure we can—”

Oberan glowered at them, his features overcast by the deep shadows of gathering thunderclouds. Every fiber of his being sang with tension as both his patience and rationality crumbled before the storm inside.

“Fool girl. Have you learned nothing? We’re leaving.” Aeyali cuffed her ward in the head. She’d have the girl’s mentor re-drill the basics into her thick skull – a danger to herself, she was indeed not nearly ready for even simple missions.

Aeyali ushered Kohrenna in the direction of the front door, but after taking barely a single step she turned.

“Oberan, you said you care, so prove it’s not just empty words. Honor our agreement. If you don’t want to do so for us Naerikk, then do it for Mother. You may not be one of our Sisters, but you can’t possibly want her legacy come to ruin? You have the opportunity to lend your aid, prevent the fall of Augiery. Wouldn’t Mother be terribly disappointed if you stood idly by?“

“Out! Both of you!” In a fraction of a moment he was upon them, red-faced and shaking, and still holding a dagger. There was no room for negotiation. The two Naerikk quickly retreated. He followed in their wake, pushing. “Get out! Now! Out! Out!”

Kohrenna threw hateful glares over her shoulder with each shove she received, whereas Aeyali kept stiffly facing the other way, her back straight and her head held high. Walking out pretending it was a dignified exit of her own choosing. Oberan slammed the door behind them both.

A heavy sigh rumbled up from deep inside, from beyond his lungs and chest, seemingly rolling from his feet all the way out his mouth. Heavy and heaving, expelling all the tension knotting inside his chest, and though the tempest within still whirled and raged, Oberan mostly just felt exhausted.

He picked up the fallen chair, and fell into it almost immediately. Leaning back, laying his head on top of the backrest so he could stare at the ceiling. Watching but not seeing. Staying until the storm died out, and longer still.

Eventually, Oberan got up and unpacked the groceries from his bag. He’d bought freshly baked bread, blushing apples, and a creamy cheese with caramelized onions inside. During the entirety of his shopping trip he’d been looking forward to this meal, but now he couldn’t muster up any excitement for it. Stacking up apple slices on bread lathered with cheese… so much work.

He didn’t feel hungry anymore, but decided to eat regardless. Roughly chopping a piece off the loaf and pressing some cheese on top. Taking a bite from it and then from an apple so he could at least approximate the experience.

It wasn’t half as good as it should be. Not the cheese, the apple, or the bread. Not all of them combined. The flavors were all tainted by stubborn sorrow, leaving only a mouthful of brine and seafoam.

If he’d known, Oberan would have wandered the Perimeter for a while longer instead of heading straight home. He could have had his meal somewhere up high, quiet and without unexpected guests.

And… if he’d known, he’d not have made the initial visit to Aeyali in the first place. It had given him strength though, that decision born from utter desperate foolishness. At least for a while.

It had granted him direction and purpose too… until he realized just how meaningless all of it was. And that none of those were what he’d come to seek.

He sighed, set the half-eaten food aside, and swallowed the bite he was chewing.

“Fucking Naerikk.”