[i]Eyes... There were eyes all around her. On her? She was unsure. The only thing she could discern was that each gaze of the hundreds of beholders she passed in the streets bore into her. Was she being watched? Were all eyes on her? Or was it all in her imagination..?[/i]

Tatiana shivered, pulling her inquisitor's coat around her body. Even in the confines of the T'saraen aegis, she was still cold. That was how she always was. Varya, Lanostre, and now here. She hated the cold, but she could never escape it in the tundra landscape that scoured the world. At least the endless sea of white was now out of her sight and thusly out of her mind. She tried to focus on the T'saraen landscape. The world around her seemed so right with her. Tatiana always knew she was more T'saraen than Lanostran, and in that moment, it felt like she was as far from Lanostran as anyone could ever be. Of course, even in her subtle feelings of calm, Tatiana didn't feel at home any more in Cero than she did in Sapharan City. Rather, she felt quite the opposite. The summoner, as much as she felt she was in the Seminary, in her home, and among her fellow inquisitors, was an alien.

Despite her extremely fatigued demeanor, Tatiana felt like she was on high alert. Her bloodshot gaze flicked back and forth as she took swift steps down the street. It couldn't have been that everyone was looking at her, could it? She was an inquisitor, so that much might have drawn attention, but there had to be something more to it. Tatiana tried to convince herself that the paranoia was all in her mind. [i]No one was after her. She had left Lanostre,[/i] but the events that had transpired had stuck with her and she couldn't imagine the clerics had so easily forgotten either. Of course, that couldn't account for every off glance she received. Looking down, Tatiana finally noticed the faded red stains that had still bled into her coat's fabric. She had very little time to collect herself in between Lanostre and Cero. Self-consciously, Tatiana pulled her coat more tightly onto her form as if she could hide her disheveled appearance. It was something that would have to be dealt with. Tatiana knew that, but getting herself back together was a long process and washing clothes wasn't the first thing on the list.

Now was the time for more basic recuperating. Tatiana hadn't eaten anything during her whole transit. Too many thoughts had distracted her, and the crippling fatigue was finally starting to overcome her. She could have sworn a hazy blur was overcoming her failing eyes. Any time she second-guessed her vision, though, she merely shook her head to further maintain her wakefulness. [i]What else could she do?[/i] It certainly didn't make her feel any safer, but Tatiana knew she couldn't let paranoid thoughts dictate her actions. The back of her mind was still hanging on to the events on Polarpike bridge. There were some things that she just couldn't let go of. She hoped that a good meal and perhaps a night's rest would help alleviate that. Of course, she hadn't really known where to start in those tasks. The entire city of Cero was a mystery to her. Its labyrinthine streets, while entirely a spectacle, were confusing to the foreigner. It must have shown. 

"Looking for anything in particular, miss?" Tatiana's eyes shot towards the T'saraen man that had paused in his stride, offhandedly speaking toward her. For a moment, she just stared him down. The man was as nonthreatening as they came, but Tatiana was thrown off regardless. He saw something in his appearance... [i]Something too similar for comfort.[/i]

"Why do you ask?" was all Tatiana managed in reply, holding back the full wrath of her accusatory tone. It wasn't panic in her eyes, no. More like some sort of subtle alert. Thoughts jumped through the inquisitor's head like lightning. [i]What did he want? Why did he approach? Did he recognize her?[/i] The mystery character chuckled in response.

"You just look a bit lost, inquisitor," His eyes studied Tatiana's form. "And you don't look to be in the best shape..." The T'saraen man nodded in Tatiana's direction while his eyes drooped unto her coat. Tatiana reflexively covered herself even further, trying to conceal the stains on her clothing. She was surprised if anything. [i]Had the man not feared her for her appearance?[/i] In a moment of weakness in her often steely resolve, Tatiana gave into the kindness of the stranger.

"Just... Seeking a nice place to find a meal and some peace and quiet. Business and the like. I'm sure you'd understand." Tatiana spoke with a hidden hostility in her tone. The moment she noticed her own voice, however, that changed. 

"Waste less time, inquisitor... My brother's a proprietor of a restaurant only a block or so away. The best meal you'll have on this side of Cero, if you'll excuse my bias." As he finished, the mystery man was left staring at the pondering Tatiana. She wished she'd dare refuse, but having the sort of day that starts with a prison break doesn't put one in the sharpest of moods. It wasn't a moment longer before Tatiana conceded, following her newfound friend down the road with a sense of direction and purpose in his step. It wasn't a long journey, but it was long enough for Tatiana to get the name of her citizen escort: "Malek", or at least that was all he offered her. Food was brought out to the pair before they could have much in the way of conversation, and much to Tatiana's surprise, was [i]on the house for Malek's inquisitor friend.[/i]

Service was beyond expedient. Tatiana would have been wholly impressed had she the mind to think about such mundane topics. She was still somewhere between a sleepless dream-state and her adrenaline-fueled combat mode. Every so often, Malek would attempt to make small talk with the frazzled inquisitor, though the replies he received were mostly short-lived and uninformative. Perhaps he was remaining purposefully brief in his questions considering Tatiana's flighty demeanor. She had been glancing about the establishment, taking in its sights for the entirety of the conversation. Particularly, Tatiana was keen on observing the cook, who was visible rather clearly behind the restaurant's counter. She couldn't help but be put-off by the burly man. Every glance Tatiana covertly took over her shoulder, it always seemed like his pallid face was looking back at her just as inquisitively. [i]Could it have just been that she was an inquisitor?[/i] Tatiana certainly didn't get the warmest welcomes everywhere she went. Not to mention she and Malek were two of the very few patrons at the moment. Only a moment later, he then made eye contact with Malek. [i]Perhaps it wasn't just her. [/i]Tatiana took a breath. [i]She had to relax.[/i]

"I apologize, dear friend, but I don't believe I got your name," Malek lowered his head he spoke as though gesturing apologetically. Tatiana poised a surprised look onto her face. All this time, she hadn't even offered her name to the man. It wasn't at all his fault. Finally, Tatiana seemed to recognize her rudeness, dropping her guard if only for a moment.

"Mother Tatiana Leviatan. A pleasure, Malek." As Tatiana finished, Malek extended a hand over the table, and Tatiana went to grasp it in a shake. There was a moment of silence as the two did so. Tatiana's eyes were locked on the back of Malek's hand, upon which a strange tattoo was inked. Tatiana squinted a bit. The design seemed uniquely familiar to the girl's eyes, but her attention was quickly diverted as the cook from behind the counter reached a pale hand across the table to place down plates before Tatiana and Malek. [i]And there it was again...[/i] Upon the forearm of the cook, a similar tribal line-work design that formed some sort of Eldritch symbol. Tatiana recognized it this time, and immediately, all her inhibitions left her. Ether flared through her body as she focused her pool to coarse like lightning through her veins.

All of a sudden, Tatiana was eternal grateful for her paranoia, for had she not immediately started focusing her withered ether pool, she may not have noticed the next move of 'Malek'. Everything seemed to slow as Tatiana's reaction time was augmented by the magic in her bloodstream. Malek tightened his grip on Tatiana's hand and her eyes shot back to the [i]mark of the R'heon[/i] emblazoned on his skin. In that diminutive moment, Tatiana caught but a glimpse of his offhand, drawing up the knife from his table setting and slashing it towards her arm. Under normal circumstances, Tatiana would never had noticed it in time, but now, adrenaline activating every twitch fiber of muscle, she was ready. Without even a moment to think, Tatiana's free hand shot up to grasp Malek's hand in the air. She was sent straight into combat mode, leaving her entirely unaware that the knife nicked her palm, scarring it with a long red gash.

Simultaneously, the inquisitor exerted her dominant martial knowledge with both hands. Locked in Malek's grasp, Tatiana's fingers spread wide and shunted back from the handshake to break the grip while her offhand guided the knife directly downwards to meet its mark skewering the R'heon tattoo. Malek's pained scream reverberated on the establishment's walls sending any other patrons fleeing from the restaurant altogether. Of course, there was one man that had no intent of leaving his fellow R'heon. In the heat of combat, Tatiana had entirely forgotten the 'cook' until he had his muscular arm wrapping and constricting her throat. Before she knew it, she was pull from her seated position in his guillotine grasp. Tatiana knew she had a limited amount of time before the air was choked from her lungs, but she was no match for the man's strength. This was exactly why she learned the underhanded tactics of close-combat at the seminary. 

The inquisitor's hand shot towards the pistol holstered at her waist. In the haze of her disoriented state, however, she was for once too slow. The R'heon's hand knocked the holster clean off of her belt with one mauling swipe. [i]New plan.[/i] In her struggling for breath, Tatiana caught visions of her previous combats flashing before her eyes. She was always protected by her demon. All throughout her life, she had relied on the eldritch entities. [i]Was that a bad thing? Was she not self sufficient? Obviously the Terviclops couldn't help her now... Or could it?[/i] Again, her body moved automatically. Tatiana felt her hand clench around the severed horn of the Terviclops belted at her waist. The brute hadn't even noticed. He already had her beat, vision fading, limbs drooping, but Tatiana knew better than to give in. In a final strike, she threw all the force left in her body into her arm as it slammed backwards to impale her weapon into the gut of her assailant.

[i]Another spray of red colored her inquisitor's jacket.[/i] The man's grip released. Tatiana collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. She thought it was over; she thought she could pause momentarily, but Malek dared to rise and stand against her, blood pooling onto the floor from his mutilated tattoo. He moved swiftly at first, but Tatiana was quicker. Just as he came to stand above her, in between the inquisitor and her only exit, Tatiana's hand gripped the fallen pistol and ripped it up through the air only to stop when its barrel was set upon her assailant's skull. Her finger ached on the trigger. Malek froze, panic in his eyes. Tatiana rose to her feet. The cook had stopped his assault as well now that she had brandished her weapon freely. For a long moment, Malek and Tatiana stared into one another's eyes. [i]Was she going to do it?[/i] Even Tatiana herself was unsure.

Until finally her thoughts broke her from her battle trance. [i]No... Not again. She wasn't a murderer...[/i] Tatiana's gaze softened as the adrenaline began to crash from her body. It was only then that she seemed to notice the wound on her own hand, marked by the knife. The blood dripped from her skin and covered the stock of her firearm. Tatiana clenched her teeth. She had no questions for the men. She knew why they came, but she didn't want to kill them and dealing with an official report was completely disregarded in Tatiana's mind. That much was true, but she felt retribution boil up in her blood. Without any words, Tatiana dropped her weapon's aim low, firing a shot right into the hip of the man called Malek. Tatiana coldly gazed upon the wound as it exploded with a swathe of blood, painting the exit behind her target. The minute movements of the cook caused the inquisitor to spin on a dime, readying her weapon aimed at him. He immediately stepped back raising a hand.

Wordlessly, Tatiana stepped over the groaning man to the door. For a moment, she paused, raising a hand up to wipe the splatter of blood clear of the glass that separated her from the streets of Cero. In the reflection of the pane, Tatiana was met with a strange set of eyes staring back at her. There was... something wrong with the reflection. It was like it wasn't hers. There was just something in the eyes— something she couldn't name. She quickly pushed open the door, relieving herself of the image now wired into her brain. As she stepped back onto the road, she holstered her weapon. All of a sudden the fatigue from earlier had left her completely. All it took was the heat of battle to clear her head. That thought worried Tatiana, but she was too occupied with greater worries to ponder it.

The road offered her the perfect place to lose herself in her thoughts. Tatiana wanted to keep alert. [i]What if another attack came?[/i] Unfortunately, the lethargy began to take hold, leaving her drifting into state of daydreaming. [i]And who were they anyways?[/i] Only two logical answers came to Tatiana. The Clerics could have sent clandestine hunters already— or maybe they had T'saraen agents. It would be hard to ever prove. Other than that, and equally as likely, the pair could have been relatives of... victims. Tatiana pushed the thoughts from her mind. No matter their relation to her, she wouldnt let them get to her. The inquisitor found solace in her strength, and she recognized her own talent. [i]How long could she save herself, though..?[/i]

When she finally reached her Salvation— the Karamzina— Tatiana felt strangely absent. The entirely walk there was a blank space in her memory. Nonetheless, her hope was that the worries would melt away when she arrived, but she was wrong. Tatiana felt safe, yes, but the plague in her mind only further distilled. As she boarded the ship, Tatiana was greeted by one of the crewmen. A handshake was offered, but he quickly pulled back upon looking at Tatiana's hand. The man grimaced.

"You should really get that checked out, inquisitor. May I ask what happened?" The question itself was harmless, but Tatiana stumbled over her words in responding nonetheless:

"Oh... Just an accident in the field." Before Tatiana could get any more caught up in her own cryptic response, she began walking onward into the massive ship. It was a marvel the likes of which Tatiana had not expected to be possible. Walking through its cramped passages sent shivers through her spine. She was inside the intestines of the steel beast. [i]This was humanity.[/i] Just like she sought out the eldritch pieces of nature's reality, they sought to augment it with machines. Their beasts were steel, motor oil, gears. Tatiana was different, though. She was vilified, strange, taboo— a priestess of flesh, blood, and viscera... [i]Was it wrong to favor the twisted reality over the fabricated reality?[/i]

Tatiana pushed the strange visions of abstract musings from her head, directing herself deeper into the bowels of the beast. Following the signs, it wasn't long before she came to her own designated quarters. The pain eating away at her limb was entirely disregarded. Tatiana didn't seek healing— just solitude; just peace. Alas, the unattainability of her goal was what made it so sought after. Upon immediate entry, Tatiana didn't even inspect the claustrophobic space. Her eyes were instead drawn directly onto a letter prominently placed upon her desk. It held her name just above its folds and carried a seal that Tatiana was very familiar with: that of her teacher, her mentor, Indira. 

Just what Tatiana needed... [i]Omens...[/i] Indira's words spoke of more dangerous toilings of Warband Phoenix's head instructor. Creid had always been a man of interest to Tatiana, but at the same time, she recognized the fathomless power. She never doubted him. One might go as far to say that fear was involved in their relationship as well as spite. Tatiana was fighter, and Creid was as well, but he never lost. A part of Tatiana wanted to be uplifted at his predicament, but the situation was too dire. [i]Omens...[/i] Omens of lives being lost en masse. Omens of inquisitor's perishing without consequence or battle. Omens of the Phoenix Warband following in their stead. Tatiana set the letter down, stepping away from the desk. She found herself staring into a mirror that was mounted on the room's wall while she gave into her own thoughts. [i]Why? Why was Indira telling her this? What was Tatiana meant to do?[/i] She was a fighter, but to prevent the death of her entire warband from a threat that was wholly undefined was a momentous task. Tatiana did know one thing, however. Indira rarely clued her in on the goings-on of the inquisition without belief in the young summoner. [i]But why?[/i] Tatiana was left wondering that very same question as she stared into the eyes of the woman glaring back at her in the mirror. [i]What was it about those eyes? Something was off— something Tatiana just couldn't put her finger on.[/i]

Tatiana was once again dragged from her thoughts when a strange drip assaulted her shoe. [i]Another splatter of red.[/i] The knife wound carved through her palm was more gruesome than she originally thought. Flexing her hand, Tatiana grimaced in pain. With a determinant step, the inquisitor stepped hurriedly back out of her quarters, following the maze-like halls of the massive ship in an aimless pattern. Tatiana weaved back and forth in the labyrinth. Her intent was to find its medical bay, but as time ticked on, that was looking like more and more of a momentous task. In a moment of rage bubbling up in the inquisitor, her fist smashed itself into the steel wall that entombed her on all sides. It was wholly a harmless gesture, but it did draw the attention of a nearby mechanic, peaking in from a large chamber that appeared to be a bay for workshopping the ship's machinery. He offered a few words of concern before Tatiana waved him off, but her interest was then piqued.

Stepping into the mechanical room, Tatiana found that a number of mechanical crewmen were at work on various tasks that she could do little to comprehend. As Tatiana's presence became clear, it seemed that her disheveled and blood-ridden appearance only made the mechanics work harder, averting their eyes from the inquisitor. She surveyed the scene, particularly taking time to observe the tools strewn about the floor. Her eyes rested for a long while on a heavy duty staple gun seemingly made for holding together various plates of steel. Tatiana rested against the wall for a moment as she watched its use in the hands of the trained mechanists. Once it was set down, however, she clandestinely grabbed it up then leaving the room with haste. She didn't imagine she'd need it for more than a moment as the idea formulating in her head was but a nascent concept.

As Tatiana found herself a safe distance from the machine room, she took the industrial tool up, placing it at the laceration across her palm. Blood still oozed from the drying wound, even more so as Tatiana squeezed her hand to force her skin back together. Without much thought, the inquisitor pressed down on the trigger of the tool. As she felt the steel staple impale her skin, she immediately dropped the device, groaning in pain. With watery eyes, Tatiana brought her hgand up to her view, defeated. Seemingly her makeshift treatment had succeeded, albeit leaving her with shaky breathing. As her wound was sealed, she rested against the steel hallway wall. She knew she had to go back to her room. She had to look at the letter. She had to discern what her plan of action would be, but not now. [i]No.[/i] Tatiana knew what she had to do, but found herself moving the opposite way nonetheless. A new idea had come into her mind— one that was urgent if only in her twisted view of the world. Her first stop was the mechanical room once again. Tatiana found herself grabbing a number of the unoccupied tools that would suit her needs. She gathered as much as she could carry before hurrying off. Intention drove her onward in the lethargy.

Another bout of wandering took place, and this time, Tatiana didn't stop until she found herself curiously entering one of the Karamzina's top floor rooms. Tatiana was mesmerized by the sight of scattered papers atop desks in the room. It appeared to be some sort of research room that served a purpose the the summoner would never discover. When she noticed the stains of red rusting the ship's metallic interior in one of the corners, however, she knew this massive chamber would suit her needs. The door was locked from the inside. Tatiana dropped her lot of industrial tools save for one rather heavy duty rivet gun. Meanwhile her other hand began to pool with black smoke. Tatiana could feel her limbs burning, her eyes struggling to stay open, and her legs ready to give out beneath her. Nonetheless she pressed on, and as the clouds of smog began to amass, a loud crash shook the hull around her. The Terviclops stumbled into the wall as it was summoned into the enclosed space.

Tatiana's partner was in grave condition. Immediately black blood and viscera splattered to the floor as it shed from the demon's broken body. Pain evoked itself in Tatiana's heart just at the sight of her fallen comrade, and the thought of what was to come next only further tightened her chest. Of course, at the same time, she found a strange sense of enticing curiosity tingling in her brain. [i]Was it excitement? She dared not admit to it.[/i] A single word echoed from her mouth: "Kneel," and the Terviclops followed command, splaying its broken body torn open with exposed bone fragments against the wall. Tatiana brought the rivet gun up to her aim as she surveyed the wounds of the fell creature. Then, her work began.

Her inquisitor's jacket was nearly indiscernible from its original black shade now. In her observation of the mechanics, Tatiana had come to a number of realizations. Humanity did with its base metal elements marvelous things that would in turn empower them beyond belief. They smithed mighty guns, monolithic walls, and titanic steam ships. Humanity augmented its reality with machines, but none had ever dared augment the twisted life of nature's own creations. No one had smithed flesh on such a grand scale. Tatiana knew that she and the Terviclops wouldn't be enough to defend their entire warband. No, they would die trying... [i]But what if she could create something more?[/i]

[i]As the summoner stared into the pained gaze of her subject, something snapped inside her. A barrier had disappeared. A realization had come. That look in her eyes— she finally recognized it. She saw it here, in that vile room, right in the eyes of the demon before her. She saw the same look that had graced her in so many mirrors, and she had seen it in the crushing gazes of passers by. She saw it everywhere. Tatiana finally recognized what she saw in the eyes— what had put her off for so long. It was an omen, of sorts... For her warband, for the world, for herself... She'd never know, really, but she recognized that omen nonetheless. For within the demon's eyes, Tatiana saw Doom.[/i]