Pezz570

The Five Senses

The Cult

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Whack!

Tayla's vision blurred. Her body collapsing to the floor. She felt a warm liquid fill her mouth, but found it had no taste. The liquid ageusia had taken its toll. Her magic nullified.

Tayla struggled to get back to her feet but was quickly pushed back down. A foot pressing down against her back.

"Stubborn stubborn... She is quite stubborn..." Sightless to be De'laire said more to herself than anyone else. "

De'laire's foot pressed down harder causing Tayla to cry out.

"Should I hold back?" De'laire mused aloud. She reached down, grabbing Tayla by the hair. Slowly, she pulled her head back. Far enough to expose her neck. "Sightless Nieffar may scold me. He wouldn't like it if I damage her..."

Tayla gasped. Her battle from early had made her weak. Everytime she tried escaping, De'laire simply exerted more force. As things stood now, it was getting hard to breathe...

"De'laire!" Sightless Syella's voice... "What are you doing? Drop the knife! There will be no killing our own!"

"Hm?" De'laire hummed absently. "Sightless Syella? Forgive me, but have I done something to upset?"

"The knife, De'laire! Drop it! Now!"

"Knife?" De'laire asked with a tilt of the head. "Oh yes, yes... the knife. Mustn't kill the girl now... Sightless Nieffar would be most displeased."

Tayla heard a clang at her side as the knife hit the ground. The woman released her grip on Tayla's hair and relinquished some of the pressure on her back.

Tayla felt her blood still. Senses! She thought. De'laire had been about to kill me! Did the Crazed woman have any sanity left?

Yes... the woman did have some sanity left. After all, Tayla was still alive...

"What in the name of the Unseeing is going on here?!" Sightless Syella demanded.

"Punishment." Came a voice from the 2nd floor overlook. There Sightless Nieffar stood watching.

"Punishment? Death is no proper punishment for the acts she committed!" Sightless Syella exclaimed.

"Is it not?" De'laire asked absently. She had taken to scratching rigorously at the corner of her right eye. Her scratching drew blood. A sign that any day now this woman would be Sightless. Any day now she would feel the itch on her eyes...

"No, my dear De'laire. I fear Sightless Syella is correct. Does one kill a sister just for acting against the family, even if it is to satisfy her own selfish interests?"

De'laire merely shrugged. She had shifted to scratching at the corner of her other eye now. "Mine tried to kill me..." She said.

"And now she's dead." Nieffar stated. "The ultimate price for such transgressions. A price our little Tayla here does not yet deserve."

"Funny then how I needed to interfere." Sightless Syella spat.

"Sightless Syella," Nieffar continued. "I'm a man of practicality. I knew you would interfere, and so I let you interfere."

"Is that so." Syella replied. "Well forgive me Nieffar in not seeing the practically in your lack of actions. Were you simply saving your breath for later?"

"In a way, yes." Nieffar said. "Tayla's actions begets punishment. Our children died because of what she did. Her defense does not deserve any of my breath."

He made his way down the steps, his lips curving into a snide smile. The wounds on his legs must have mostly healed as Nieffar was no longer limping.

"But a Sightless ignoring commands coming from Sightless Vetius? That is a matter deserving of my breath."

Syella gave the man a leery gaze. For a moment the Sightless said nothing. Her gaze turning to Tayla. A frown of disapproval across her face.

Nieffar his approach approach stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Would you like to explain yourself to them?" Nieffar said quietly, nodding small crowd of clan members who had funneled into the chamber. They stopped at the entrance not quite sure what to make of the display.

"I'd rather you didn't." Nieffar continued. "As far as they're concerned, their friends died because the Pact Makers attacked us."

Syella folded her arms. Her frown deepening. "Let her up De'laire." Syella said at length.

"Hm?" De'laire hummed. Her gaze turned downwards. "Oh, yes yes! You're referring to the one beneath my foot, aren't you?"

De'laire took her foot off Tayla and stepped aside. All the while De'laire muttered to herself.

"Of course she meant that one." Tayla thought she heard the woman say. "Of course she did..."

Tayla rose to her feet and bowed her head appreciatively. Syella looked her over disapprovingly.

"I expect you to still be here when I get back. We will speak further once I'm done."

Tayla nodded and watched the two Sightless leave. She felt cold, and not just because her clothes were still damp from the rain.

'Why did you join the cult?' The white haired princess had asked.

Why? Because they had given her something she never had before. A place where she felt she belonged. A place where she people actually respected her.

Tayla made her way to a nearby bench, careful to tread lightly on her bruised foot. Tayla knew pain. She could deal with pain. The disappointment though... the disappointment and... Smit...

Smit... her heart felt heavy in her chest. Why? Why should should she feel bad about him? Tayla had known that this would happen sooner or later! She knew she couldn't trust the man. Who cares that he wouldn't meet her eyes! Who cares if he sold her out!

Of course he sold her out. That was the sort of thing any sensible person would do. He didn't owe her an explanation. But then why? ... Why did it hurt so much?

Tayla saw the white haired princess. She stood there, like a shadow. The woman's image loomed over her.

'Why did you join the cult?'

"I hate you." Tayla whispered. Now, more than ever, she needed this woman to hate.

'Why did you join the cult?' She said yet again.

Talya curled her legs up onto the bench and buried her face in her arms. She hated the woman. Hated that the woman pretended to care.

---

"You're playing a dangerous game Syella." Nieffar said, a smug smile across his face. "Sending that reckless girl on a mission which as far as I can tell served no further purpose other than to give the enemy further intel on ways to fight us. You cost us believers, Syella. Sightless Vetius will be displeased."

"Why is it that you find me so intimidating, Nieffar?" Sightless Syella asked. "Is it because the followers I brought respect me while yours fear you?"

Nieffar's eye twitched at her words. However, he quickly smothered his irritation. "Syella, Syella. You don't intimidate me. I would just like to know why you feel it necessary to put this entire mission at risk. Just what exactly were you trying to achieve with all of this?"

Syella frowned, eyeing the man. "You may have been give charge over the task of converting this city, but does not mean you are privy to everything that I do." She replied.

Nieffar's expression darkened. His smile turning to a frown. "You," He said elongating his annunciation, "don't get to talk back to-"

"Would you rather I leave?" Syella continued, standing her ground. "Leave you one experienced Sightless fewer?"

The words angered Nieffar. Syella could hear the man grinding his teeth.

"They will follow me, you know? The ones I've brought over to the Insight."

"There are plenty more people in the city to fill in their ranks." Nieffar growled.

"Ah, so there are." Syella agreed. "Do you think they will turn on you too?"

Nieffar's good arm lurched. His fingers extending into sharpened tendrils ever so slightly. The Sightless stopped himself, however. He was far too aware of how a Sightless attacking one of his own would look to any onlookers.

"You know, just as well as I, that the people who attacked us weren't normal." He said.

"No, they won't." Syella agreed. "Someone planted those people in our ranks. People easy for us to overlook. Such a thing is dangerous." She did find it odd how their life essence appeared so dim. "We can't be at each other's throat with enemies like that around."

Nieffar said nothing. His angered expression turning to frustration. He knew he couldn't have her as an enemy right now, and that infuriated him.

"Someone needs to take the fall for this." Nieffar said through gritted teeth.

Syella remained quiet. She knew what this meant. It was an eventuality she had anticipated when assigning this task to Tayla.

"You're right of course." She said quietly. "Others may think the pact makers attacked us first, but the people who went with Tayla know better. We will need to put the blame for this incident on her. This way we can justify the lie."

Nieffar nodded. "Confinement." He said. Syella's expression turned grim. "We'll lock her up for a few days... Give her time to think about what she's done."

---

The cult had a ceremony of sorts that night. A ceremony that drew much of the people in town. They had food there. Food for anyone who would stay and listen to the cult's preaching.

Many played along. After all, how else would they eat? Others, however, they actually listened. At the end of the ceremony people were invited into the the Cult's makeshift church.

Those that entered join the cult's cause. Some did it out of curiosity. Others did joined for the food. Regardless of their reasons, there was one thing none of the new recruits could deny. The Cult's God had a visible presence in the world. One far more obvious than the Lord of Senses.

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Chres blinked. Looking up he met Karina's gaze. Funny, he hadn't noticed her approach. Must have gotten far too caught up in his own thoughts.

He nodded at her word while doing his best to give a warm smile. "She says she's gone away" Chres said. "Can't come back until she knows, whatever that means."

Shifting in his seat, one hand rumaging through his pocket, the other putting his empty plate off to the side. "She's a funny one, isn't she? Always doing whatever comes to mind..."

From his pocket Chres pulled out a small object between his thumb and forefinger. It glittered in the light. "They are... people, you know? That's something I often forget with her... Perhaps that's why she left..." Chres continued.

The object was oval and flat. Transparent like glass and yet as sturdy steel. Its glittering appearence caused by reflective specks of silver embedded within. Metal glass. Rare. Beautiful. Chres held the metal glass up to the light causing the surface to gleam.

'One for you, and one for me.' His wife had told him. Neither Chres nor his wife, had shown interest in wanting a familiar.

"Why then?" Chres said. His voice almost a whisper.

Chres closed his hand around the metal glass, one last time, before gentlely placing it on the nearby stand.

"Thank you, Karina." He said smiling. "I know you tried. I doubt that neither you nor I could have stopped her."

Nodding to her, he slowly rose from his chair.

"I'll find her tomorrow. One way or another." Chres said. "Do what you will with the metal glass. Senses knows it's only been weighing me down."

Despite his words, Chres somehow felt a weight much heavier than the one he just let go. These next few days would be long ones, he knew. Long and restless.

As always Chres slept lightly that night. His dreams plagued with horror and guilt.

The Five Senses

Sil

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Sil lay alone, atop a puff of sky. Arms outstretched at her sides, she stared up at the glistening moon. Its normal pale color like a sun in the night sky.

The sky had long changed back to normal since Sil had started her journey upwards. The moment Sil had traveled past the... distorchination... the change to the sky had been sudden. Everything shifted around and changed colors at once.

Any Not-Sil-Person might have gotten distracted by the change in sky colors. Sil, on the other hand, had persevered! She had made it where the puddles began and... and in the end Sil still felt nothing but confusion.

The puddles came from the sky puff. Yet when Sil had gone inside the puff, there were no puddles to be found! So then... where did all the puddles come from?

Sil had tried! She had tried so hard! She had put all her focus into this one thing. This one thing that she could say with all certainty she knew! Sil thought she knew puddles, yet in the end all Sil knew was nothing.

The sky puff shifted in shape as it devoured a smaller sky puff beside it. Sil sighed. She pushed herself upright and patted the sky puff like one would a pet. She supposed it made sense that the sky puffs survived on cannibalism. They didn't have anything else to eat up here after all.

For the most part sky puffs seemed quite peaceful to Sil. Peaceful and... disappointing. She had expected something wonderful up in the land where puddles fell from. She hadn't expected the disappointment. The realization her efforts were for nothing.

Sil let herself fall. Her form descending beneath the puff and down towards the ground below. The sound of rushing wind rose up around her. Its breeze unable to slow her descent.

Well, if she couldn't know puddles by going to where they came from, then perhaps she could know them by following them to the place they went.

The world rushed up around her. Down, down, Sil dove. Down towards a tiny ground puddle far below.

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Chres had said nothing since the slave left them to dine. He felt much as if he were in a trance. The world passing him by.

Absently he grabbed a plate of food and collapsed into one of the chairs, his soaked cloak likely ruining the chair's fabric. He sat there staring blankly at his food. A dark cloud hovering over him. Accompanied by that ever present itch.

His mind sought to distract itself from the spiral downwards, seeking questions to ponder away at. Who were these people? What did they come from? Where were they getting the food from?

Questions. He always had so many questions. Questions were good. Questions distracted him.

How big were these tunnels? Did the tunnels lead beyond the town? How did they discover them? Did any of this matter?

Chres felt his back stiffen. His mind lingering on that last question? Did any of this matter? Why was Chres even here?

Chres clenched his hand around Sil's metal glass pendent as if for protection. But Sil was gone. Sil had left him. Her uplifting presence absent from his life.

"Sil..." Chres whispered.

Why was Chres still here? What reason did he have to stick around? Did any of this matter? Did any of this even matter?

But it does matter doesn't it? A tiny part of him said. Families dead in the street. People starving and without food... Is this how you want to leave the world behind?

Families die every day. People starve everyday. There was nothing Chres could do to change that.

And what of the others? The voice asked. Chres's gaze turned towards Karina, DB, Ferris and the rest. Their chances of success diminish without you. Does helping these people no longer matter? Do you no longer care about protecting and helping others?

Chres pondered that question for a long moment. Did he care about helping others? That had been his reasoning for staying with them, hadn't it?

In his heart, Chres wanted the answer to be yes. He so dearly wished for the answer to be yes! He had once been a better man than this. A man who cared for others. A man unwavering in his loyalty. That man... was no longer him... That man... had gone away the day he killed his wife...

Chres's eyes lowered back to his plate of food. A plate that had long gone cold.

No... Chres did not truly care about what happened to the others. True, for some he had grown some semblance of a bond. In reality though, they were mere passerbys and nothing more.

The reason he had stayed this morning had not been caring, but rather it had been out of guilt. The guilt he felt when contemplating how his selfish actions would cost the rest of them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, with all these new players at the ready, did Chres's presence even make a difference?

A few more days? The voice asked. It sounded more distant than before. You can see this through for a few more days, can't you?

Chres found himself nodding. Yes... he could last a few more days. Long enough to let the guilt subside.

Chres found himself eating his plate of cold food. All the while, he plotted out all the places Sil might be. Tomorrow, he would go look for Sil, wherever she may be. He would find her. He would bring her home. That way, at the very least, he would have someone to be there at the very end...

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

And so the Pact Makers ran. They ran away from the clock tower. Away from the crowd and following Malkev's lead. with each stride they put more distance between the cult and themselves.

"This way." Malkev said on occasion. "Over here." He said now and then. Wherever he led, the Pact Makers followed. Left. Right. Straight. Left.

Where were they going? Chres wondered. It seemed as if Malkev was just leading them aimlessly. Making them run in the rain till their clothes became soaked.

Occasionally, Malkev would slow the group to a stroll while motioning them to keep silent. Those moments were the worst. When the group wasn't running, the chill from their damp clothes became far too noticeable.

More than once Chres felt himself shiver in the rain. He had to stop storing away his own body heat, for any heat he stored away now, was heat he needed to not collapse from the chill. However, there was another chill slowly crawling up his spine. A concern about a certain someone missing...

Where was Sil? He had seen Karina holding Sil when they left the building. Now that they were back together again, he could help but notice she was gone!

Sil! Chres thought to his familiar. Sil, where are you? Where did you go?

Chres... He heard her thoughts distantly. Do I know you?

The running had kicked in again. With it came a wave of relieve washed over Chres. She was okay... Sil was okay...

What do you mean, silly? He thought imitating the way she often would talked to him. Of course you know me. Why aren't you here? Where did you go off too?

For a long while Sil said nothing. The silence made Chres want to squirm.

At last she replied. I went... away... She thought back.

Chres felt his heart sink. His breath growing heavy from the running. Something was wrong here. The way she spoke. The replys she was giving... Away? What did she mean away? Could a familiar run away from its master? Could a familiar even leave its master?

Sil... Chres thought back to his familiar. Sil, what's wrong?

I... I don't know...

You don't know? What do you mean you don't know? Chres asked, trying to convey a feeling of comfort.

I mean, I don't know! She thought insistently. There was a clear frustration in her words.

Sil... He thought. I- His thoughts were cut off.

At long last Malkev lead the group into an empty building. Empty save for several burning lanterns on the floor among a pile of cloaks. Malkev handed out a cloak to each of them, frowning in obvious irritation when it came to Ferris's turn. To his credit, the man said not a word to Ferris. He gave the man his cloak and then moved on to the next person.

Once everyone had been fitted with their cloak, he then motioned for everyone to take a lantern. Taking one for himself, he hid it under the cover of his cloak. He then eyed everyone as if expecting them to do the same.

Occasionally Malkev's eyes would flit over to the windows as he wait. "Quickly, now." He said impatiently, with that deep, rich voice.

Once everyone hid the lanterns within their cloaks, Malkev nodded. "Very good." He said. "Should be safe to talk now... or rather... that's what he tells me..." The second half of his comment seemed to be more so directed to himself rather than the group.

"For you who have not met me yet, the name's Malkev." His eyes flitted to the window again. "You're friends here came searching for The Watch. Well... I'm the man at it's head." Malkev shuffled his feet uncomfortably at the words. "Or rather... now I am..."

Malkev turned away from the group making his way to the back entrance. He waved the group to follow. "The Watch, I'm afraid, has been left in shambles since yesterday's... unfortunate incident. Fortunately, your friends and I have made other allies who might better help us in our cause."

By this point Malkev had reach the back entrance and open the door. "We head to them now. The lanterns will hide us from prying eyes. Sadly, we do not have enough Crystal Jade candles to spare on us right now. So... well... just try not burn yourself on the lantern. Senses knows I've done it more than once."

And with that the group was on the move again. This time, however, there was no running. Just a steady stride towards a meaningful destination. Exactly where they were going, though... Chres found himself unable to focus on that at the moment.

Sil... He thought. Why don't you come and find me? I'll make you a nice puddle to play in, and after that we can talk about what is bothering you.

For a moment, Sil said nothing. He felt conflict in their bond. She wanted to play in the puddle, yes... But whatever was bothering her held sway too.

I can't. She replied at last. Not until I know.

Chres furrowed his borrow, struggling to understand. Sil, I... I don't understand...

Neither do I. Her thoughts came faintly. Neither... do I...

---

It had grown late in the day, by time the group arrived at their destination. Malkev had taken them back to the underground tunnels using the same hidden passage as before.

Upon entering Chres felt that same sensation as before. An acute awareness of every sensation picked up from his body. As with before it only lasted for moment.

When they entered the larger chamber, The Kharu-Natjer had been there to greet them. He introduced himself to everyone who hadn't already met him. He had two healers at the ready -more slaves apparently- each healer tended to the group, starting with DB.

The Kharu-Natjer told the group they would be safe here and that they were welcome to stay. Chres even thought he heard the man mention something about dinner. Though, in all honesty, he wasn't really listening.

Chres felt numb, empty, and oh so tired. His wife had abandoned him, because he had never been there for her. Instead she turned to another man to satisfy her needs. Was Sil now abandoning him too?

Sil looked like his wife. At times she even acted much like her. Chres and Sil had always been together, yet he had never tried to understand her. Never had he tried to actually know her. Was that why she was acting this way now? Was he at fault yet again?

No... Chres was being foolish. This was different than what happened with his wife. His wife had left him. She was the one who betrayed him! It was her fault he-

A flash of recollection... Shouting and crying amidst a drunken memory...

"I gave you my everything..." Chres had said. "My heart. My trust. My-"

"Chres, you don't understand! It wasn't-"

"I don't understand? I DON'T UNDERSTAND?!" Chres shook his head, taking a swig of ale from his flask. "Exactly what don't I understand? Did you not sleep with him?"

"I-" His wife started

Chres slammed his fist on the table. "DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT SLEEP WITH HIM?!" He roared.

His wife gripped her gown, her knuckles white. "I did..." She said eyeing the floor with shame.

For long while the two of them said nothing. A silence so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"How long?" Chres asked. His voice shaking with rage.

His wife shuffled her feet. "If you would only let me-"

"How long?" He interrupted. He placed extra emphasis on each word.

"Chres, please... just let me-"

"DAMN IT, WOMAN! Are you deaf?! I asked you how long!"

His wife bit her lip. Her body trembling. "Years..." She whispered at length. "This has been going on for years..."

Everything after seemed to blur. Yelling, crying, pleading, and then... death.

Chres blinked. The smell of food filled his nostrils, the group had been lead by one of the slaves to what appeared be a living chamber.

The chamber had been fitted with crystal jade candles, furnishings and a table full of various foods. There was even a stream of running water that went off into what appeared to be two separate bathing chambers. And... -Chres poked his head into one of the bathing chambers- were those curls of steam coming from the bathing water? Senses! How exactly were they heating it? Surely, this wasn't a hot springs!

Chres shook his head. He turned back to the living chambers. The space split off into additional rooms with bedding and everything. One of these rooms even housed the Innkeeper and his family.

Chres's head spun, dizziness setting in. The lack of sleep was likely not helping... Had The Kharu-Natjer been monitoring them since they arrived, or had it started from the day prior?

"Food... Eat... Rest... Please..." The Kharu-Natjer's slave said, struggling with each word. She looked so young. Twelve maybe?

She bowed to the group, showing a shaved scalp, and left them in peace.

The Five Senses

Plot Point

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Svephraey sat in a meditative state, alone on the floor to one of the smaller chambers provided to her by The Kharu-Natjer. A lone crystal jade candle illuminated her form from above. Its light a minor distraction in her calm focus.

She had been like this now... for how long? Minutes? An Hour? Maybe longer? Time lost all meaning in this state. Her mind focused. Her body unmoving save for a slight twitch of a finger here and there.

Svephraey frowned as a tickle of pain ran across her neck. She twitched a finger, its movement creating a soft twang. Svephraey could now see green again. To her side, a thin near invisible hair like thread fell away from her scalp and onto the ground. To the common eye, it appeared as a strand of grey hair. Yet those who knew what she could do would know better.

She had been too slow in releasing that one. Yes... that was a bead of blood dripping down her neck. Pity... She had liked this sweater...

Svephraey breathed in, glad that she was currently unable to smell the cold, damp odor she had begun to associate with Shimmer Town’s underground network. She cared not the means of how The Kharu-Natjer came to know of it. She cared not how he found it or even how he managed to scrounge up the coin to procure its many entrances. No… The Kharu-Natjer was one she cared not to question. He was a resource. A resource that paid in plenty. One who had empowered her to break the chains bound to her mind at birth, and help her climb her way to the top of the land's... shadier businesses.

When the The Kharu-Natjer told her about Shimmer Town’s underground tunnels, Svephraey had seen nothing but possibilities. For years these chambers had gone mostly unnoticed by the population above! That alone was showed promise! Sure, there had been a few who had stumbled their way into one of the many hidden entrances. Though most had coughed it up as nothing more than an abandoned cellar, for many entrances lead to nothing more than a small chamber with fake walls hidden away in the stone.

Those that had stumbled across the other entrances, the kind their guests from earlier entered from, had been wise enough to leave these dark passages alone and forgotten. Although, judging from the few corpses they found littering the tunnels, there may have been a few who wandered in. The pups appeared to have gotten lost in the maze of darkness. Alone and forgotten, they either starved to death or died from the cold. Such is often the price of foolishness.

The network itself was quite intricate. Its corridors snaked in all directions -up, down, left and right- forming an intricate labyrinth centering on larger hub chambers. These chambers, in turn, wrapped around an even larger chamber. One that even had access to an underground lake. It's waters apt for drinking.

The larger chambers had been fitted with many tiny ventilation tunnels that lead up to the surface. This allowed for the use of fires to keep warm. The remainder of the labyrinth, however, had scarce ventilation, giving it a cold, stale smell. It was one of the tunnels less stellar features, especially since it made lighting the labyrinth a nightmare!

Light by torch was an impossibility. Doing such would lead to smoke accumulating in the chambers with nowhere to go. Crystal jade candles were the obvious solution. A solution requiring an commodity that was not only expensive, but scarce as well. This meant that until they came into the possession of more crystal jade, much of the network would remain in darkness.

The crystal jade candles they did have were placed strategically throughout the labyrinth. Much of it had gone to the larger chambers. The Kharu-Natjer emphasized the importance of keeping large areas blanketed in light so as to keep the spacious area’s existence hidden from the Sightless above.

The remaining, larger candles went towards other strategic points, such as at the labyrinth’s entrances, or in many of the commonly used corridors. A few even lay in some of the network’s smaller chambers occupied by The Kharu-Natjer slaves and guests.

This left very little crystal jade candles available for the less frequently traversed tunnels. These last few candles were left at the entrances of such passages when possible. Such passages had at least two of The Kharu-Natjer slaves standing by at all times. When one needed to traverse said tunnels, they would do so with one of the slaves. Candle in hand, the slave would act as a guide. Lighting the way through the darkness.

Performing her tasks basked in light had been an odd experience for Svephraey. Much of her work was often done under cover of shadow. For as long as she could remember, the darkness had been her friend. An ally who shielded her from prying eyes. What was it to her now though? What would it mean for her to live in a world where she couldn’t trust the dark to shade her from unwanted attention?

Imagine carrying out theft, trafficking, assassinations and kidnappings during the day! True, her abilities would mitigate any impact on her specifically. Her organization's criminal activities, however... Well... such restrictions would surely ruin them. It was a concern for later. A concern that needed to not be addressed should the cult’s spread be throttled.

Yes… For now her only concern was to help The Kharu-Natjer put an end to this Seed of Insight. Once it was gone, she could go back to was she did best. The thing Svephraey was known for.

The Marionetteer. That was what they called her. A name whispered in the shadows. A name the little pups feared. A fitting name, she supposed, even if it was truly just a mishmash of words. It worked just as well as the name Svephraey... and every other name she used.

Another twitch of the finger follow by a twang. A second strand of grey hairlike thread fell away to her side. This time she had been fast enough to cut away the connection before absorbing the killing blow received by the body on the other end. Unfortunately, this meant she could now smell the tunnel’s odor, yet again. Such a bother...

Yes… The name Marionetteer suited her quite well. A faceless puppeteer, hidden in shadows. The world was her stage. Her puppets? The once slain.

A few more twangs followed. Hunger, warmth, the taste of sweet. These aspects of her senses flooded back to her. Her connections severed to the three corpses on the other end. No longer did they dance to her whims.

People whispered of beings like Svephraey. Rumors of people whose power brought back the dead. A necromancer, some might call her. A blasphemer others would say. Those people merely did not understand. They knew not what she did.

Svephraey did not bring the dead back to life. No… what Svephraey did with her collection of corpses was far more... sanitary...

Svephraey couldn’t bring the dead back to life. Rather, she merely gifted her corpses a piece of herself. A Splinter of her mind. A piece of consciousness given semi-autonomy. In its new vessel, it would take root and grow into an entity of its own.

The costs of her magic were simple. An aspect of her senses -her mind’s way of interacting with the world- in exchange she breathed new life into a deceased vessel. With the touch of a hand, she would form a bond with the corpse. A bond which tore away piece of her senses off into the body.

Her touch healed any rot and old wounds. And the new life she gifted? Well... it would then take on persona of its own. A persona given guidance from Svephraey of course.

She could influence her Splinters. Experience what they experienced. Make them act to her will. She WAS her Splinters. Perhaps that was what made it a magic of touch. The ability to feel, to sense, to be her splinters. A touch magic in perhaps the most metaphorical sense. A touch magic not without its drawbacks.

The most immediate shortcoming was the absorption of wounds taken by her Splinters, deadly wounds included. Fortunately, the absorption process was slow, giving her plenty of time to react before taking in the full wound. If necessary, she would cut away her connection from a Splinter so that she could live another day.

The second drawback was by far the more dangerous of the two. By Gifting life to her Splinters, they now had a mind of their own. If left unattended for a prolonged period of time, then as sure as the sun would rise, her Splinters would come for her. A deep rooted desire to wrestle away her control.

More than once she woken with a knife at her throat. Those were the foolish Splinters. The ones who forgot that she could severe their ties with a thought. The more crafty Splinters would try less direct methods. Poison was a common tactic. Some would even have her kidnapped. It was her awareness of her Splinters which kept her alive.

Yes, awareness of one’s Splinters was key to surviving as a Gifter. At all times she kept her Splinters at arm’s length, least she meet the fate of the one who had breathed life to her…

Two more twangs. The ringing in her ears softened as two different pitches in frequency became audible to her again.

Awareness.... Rule number one in the art of Gifting. Keep Splinters far away and monitor their activities daily. If any of them grew too ambitious, she would assert more control. Those that became too dangerous… Well she could always severe the connection. Wasteful though it may seem...

Another twang. Another Splinter back to being dead. Svephraey sighed. She would need a fresh set of bodies after this.

The world around Svephraey seemed to flare... no... it was more of an enhanced awareness of the senses she still maintained.

The Kharu-Natjer. Svephraey realized. That was his touch on her mind. He must have sensed her frustration.

The strange man's presence, in her consciousness, was soothing to her. She had become accustomed to it, and as such she openly welcomed his embraced. With his touch came an enhanced control over magic and her connections to the Splinters dancing to her thoughts.

She no longer needed to maintain focus in order send out commands. She made them act with a mere whim. All at once, she experienced what they experienced. Their fight against the cultists. Their struggle to hold out long enough to allow the Pact Makers to escape. She felt at the thoughts of their minds, like threads woven into a fabric of something far greater.

Such an odd sensation. She thought. Idly she poked at the greater fabric. The strands where her Splinter’s thoughts bled into something else. There were other threads there... threads much like the ones that made up her Splinter's own thoughts...

She focused in on one of the strands. Willing her Splinter's thoughts to brush against it. Shockingly, it complied.

Stray ideas flooded into Svephraey. Concepts... ideas... fear of death... desire for knowledge... to know the future...

Svephraey froze. Were these the thoughts of the cultists her Splinters fought?!

An thought came to mind. She could feel this person, sense this person, know this person... Could she perhaps Splinter herself into this person? She urged the Splinter forward. Contact! All she needed was contact!

A final twang rang in the room. Her last Splinter, among the cultists, had fallen. The Kharu-Natjer magic enhancing touch faded.

“NOO!” Svephraey she shouted louder than she would have liked.

She had felt a magic far greater! A magic sitting just beyond her fingertips. Power… immense power ripe for the taking! All she needed was more time! Time to-

Two voices came from outside her chamber. One belonged to the ‘pup’ she had left guarding her room. The other voice was more feminine. Her accent was distinct. Her grasp on the language crude. One of The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves no doubt. Come to fetch her, has he?

The door to her chamber opened. “Mistress?” Said the pup from outside.

Svephraey released a breath in displeasure. Entering her chambers without asking? Another a foolish pup. She thought. She rose to her feet needle-like dagger appearing in her hand with a flick of the wrist.

“Mistress?” The pup yelped, his head poking into the chamber. “The Kha-”

The poor fool’s words cut off as Svephraey’s dagger slit his throat. The pup fell to the floor, his body pushing the door to her chamber fully open. A young wide-eyed woman, stood at the door to Svephraey’s chamber. Her hair a glistening silver. Her skin of that foreign orange-tan hue. She took a step back in apprehension, yet that was all she did. As always, The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves proved to be well trained.

Svephraey ignored the sound lad’s dying gasps for air. Instead, she focused her attention on the slave women’s garments. The woman wasn’t half nude, thank the senses, nor did she wear simple rags or a veil to cover her face. From what Svephraey had gathered from The Kharu-Natjer’s culture, this meant the woman held at least some level of some importance. So in other words… don’t kill her?

Svephraey sheathed her dagger. It was a pity she couldn't kill the woman. She would make for a lovely puppet, though admittedly her skin would make her stand out far too much...

Svephraey turned her back on the woman and knelt by dying pup. She took his hand in hers and began to pet it softly.

The lad whimpered softly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hush now, my little pup.” She cooed soothingly into his ear. Her words came out much like a melody. “Your pain, your fears... It will all be over shortly.”

His whimpers began to soften. His eyes starting to glaze.

“There, there. That’s better.” She whispered. “Sleep well, my dear pup. Embrace the eternal slumber. May you wake again to another dream.”

The young slave woman shuffled her feet uneasily. Svephraey smiled to herself. I appeared The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves were human after all.

“Svephraey Lady.” The young woman said adding far too many syllables to her words. “Kharu-Natjer… You to come, he speaks.”

Svephraey frowned at the words. This one was utterly butchering the language. She placed her palm on the dead pup’s back and closed her eyes.

“Tell our dear Kharu-Natjer, that I am quite busy at the moment. His new, trouble-seeking friends have left me quite short on Splinters”.

Svephraey pressed her palm down firmer. Her mind jumped to the corpse. She felt and knew the world through her new vessel. An experience lasting only a moment before her awareness shot back to her own body.

Svephraey opened her eyes and blinked. The ability to see green left her yet again. Distantly she felt the splintered piece of her mind take root in the dead lad before her. She felt as it shaped itself into a freshly made Splinter.

Svephraey found color to be among the most unnecessary aspects of the human senses. And so it was often the first to go. She did find it odd that she couldn’t splinter her ability to see color into more than just three types of colors. What was it about the colors red, blue and green that made them so crucial to seeing other hues?

“Is important.” The slave women spoke. “New... slaves? Is the word?" The slave asked. Svephraey merely shrugged. "... New... slaves is needing.”

New slaves? Svephraey thought curiously. Such actions would surely put The Kharu-Natjer in the spotlight. Curious fellow, that one was.

“Tell him… I’ll stop by momentarily.”

The woman nodded curtly, apparently accepting her response as a good enough answer. She left shortly after.

What an odd people. Svephraey thought, her eyes trailing the woman as she left. What sort of creep creates a society where everyone is born a slave?

She fruitlessly tried to wrap her mind around how societal ranking would work in such culture. There were obviously different rankings of slaves, but how did ones at the top manage all of them? Did they delegate slave management to other high ranking slaves?

Svephraey shook her head. It all seemed no different than how the world work here. She turned her gaze to the dead pup. The corpse’s wounds had finished knitting up neatly. Soon the body began to stir.

The Splinter blinked. Life returned to the corpse’s eyes. It looked up and met her gaze. There was a questioning look in its eyes. She vaguely remember that same confusion when she first woke. A question of why she was here and not there.

Slowly Svephraey asserted her will upon the Splinter. It questioning stare became understanding. Its place in life now known. The Splinter rose to its feet and proceeded to walk away.

“Be sure to tidy up.” She called after it. “You’ll find clean clothes in the pup’s old chambers.”

The Splinter absently raised its hand in acknowledgment, as it headed out into the world above.

The Five Senses

Sil
Karina

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Sil huddled on the ground hugging her knees with her arms. She could sense the fog clouding up her thoughts. Clear thinking becoming difficult.

Vaguely she became aware of someone lifting her from the ground.

“Lynx… Have to help Lynx… Hurt me instead… Let him go… please…” She muttered the words in a vain attempt to focus her thoughts.

---

Karina held the small Sil closer to her body as she tried to calm her down. Even though she was an airhead, she did care a lot about others, as it became evident by the fact that she tried to fight the sightless even knowing it was much stronger than her.

"Shh. You have already done enough, Sil. Just calm down. I'll take you somewhere safe." Karina said, with a calm voice as she tried to tranquilize the poor Sil.

Even though the male sightless was wounded and had released Lynx, they couldn't just stay there as another sightless had arrived. Thanks to the chaos that the disguised cultists caused, they had a chance to escape and they had to make use of it.

---

Words... someone was speaking to her... Sil stopped shaking. Her tight embrace around her huddled knees loosening.

"Somewhere... safe?"

Sil unwrapped herself, shifting her position so that she sat on her knees. She looked up with a furrowed brow at the person's whose palm she sat in. The speaker looked familiar.

"I know you... right?" Puddles! Why was it so hard to think? Yes... yes she knew this person...

"You're the she-person... hair so pale..."

Sil's thoughts began to stray. Why was her hair so white anyway? Did she forget to paint it? Did She-Person want Sil to paint her hair? Perhaps Lynx and she could-

Sil's eyes shot open. "Lynx!"

Why? Why was it always so hard to think?

"Where's Lynx?!" She asked in worry.

---

As Karina opening a path and fleeing with the rest of the group, she heard Sil's weak words as she finally realized that there was someone with her and recognized Karina, sitting on her little knees in her hand.
Karina couldn't help but to let out a kind smile as she heard her voices. Whatever the sightless did, certainly affected the poor Sil.

"Shh. Lynx escaped. The sightless was wounded and finally let go of him but another sightless arrived... with reinforcements. It seems a few people disguised themselves as cultists and are buying us some time to escape but we need to be quick..." Karina said to Sil as she looked around for the rest of the group to be certain everyone was escaping safely.

---

Sil put her hand to her forehead as if about to faint. So many words. Too many words. So hard to think.

"I..." She stuttered. "I don't understand..."

What was this feeling? Was this sadness? Was this pain? She looked to the sky. Puddles falling from above.

"It... hurts..." Sil said looking surprised.

The thought was fleeting. Insignificant amidst the puddles. Where did the puddles come from? Did they live up in the sky?

A single drop landed on her head and dripped down her face.

"Why?" She asked. "Why can't I ever understand?"

---

Listening to Sil's words, Karina simply raised her a little bit, giving a single, delicate kiss on Sil's head as she looked to her with a kind expression for a moment, before returning to her serious expression as she focused on escaping with the rest of the group.

"Just rest a little bit. I promise I'm going to take care of you." Karina said, in an almost motherly tone.

"You were very brave today, Sil. You did well. Now, it's my turn. I promise I'll take you and everyone else to safety." Karina finished,, looking to Sil with a kind smile.

---

Sil blinked, surprised by the gesture. She rested a hand where she had been kissed.

"Rest..." Sil repeated. Yet another concept she didn't understand. And why did that matter again?

She moved her hand away and stared at it with vacant eyes. Was she even capable of rest?

Tatter, tatter, tatter went the falling puddles. Splish, splash, splish. The sound of ground puddles disturbed by footsteps. The sounds seemed to wash away her troublesome thoughts. The only thing that stayed was the pain.

"Over here!" Chres's voice in the distance. He waved to the group, gesturing them over. "This way!" He said, turning to run.

"Puddles..." Sil said, fluttering off Karina's palm. "All I know is puddles..." She zipped off into the sky, aimlessly heading towards the clouds...

The Five Senses

Nieffar
Chres

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Chres leaned against the alley wall arms crossed, doing his best to stay out of the rain. He tapped his finger impatiently.

No word had come from their familiars.

"Something has gone terribly wrong..." Chres said to Octavio.

---

Nieffar gave a shout as the giant man ripped off the shoots clouting his wound. He swung back his stump of arm to whack the man in the face. Greenish yellow puss oozed out anew.

This time the vine-like sprouts were slower to re-emerge. As if confused by the re-opened wound. Re-emerge they did though. Doing their best to bind the wound.

Multiple flashes of Insight alerted Nieffar. Too much was going on. The Pact Makers were converging on him. And with his damaged arm and other wounds, he could only do so much...

Was this how it would end for him? Torn apart by these lowly beings?

The Insight cooed at him. Urging him to dive even deeper into its embrace. He could just give in... Take the plunge into the Insight. It would mean loosing himself in exchange for power. Though his scant connection to the land made such a move risky, deadly even... But to just sit back an let this pact makers kill him?

Nieffar didn't react as the female Pact Maker lunged forward and stabbed him in the back. Rather, he closed his eyes. Releasing his grip on the familiar Nieffar dropped his knees.

The Insight began to flood into him. The room began to darken. Nieffar's toes extruded, bursting from his boots. They shot into the ground like roots. His body started to expand. His skin released several loud cracks. From the crack shot sickly green bone like vines. They lashed out and began attacking all those around him.

"Nieffar-"

His mind began to waver.

"Nieffar!"

His thoughts began to dim.

"Nieffar, don't be foolish!"

Nieffar snapped out of it. His body slowly deflating back to normal. The room brightened up a tad. The vines sprouting from his body wilted and fell away. Slowly the fog cleared from his mind.

It seemed Sightless Syella had arrived, bringing with her a wave of reinforcements.

---

"No..." Chres whispered. He stared eyes wide at the group of reinforcements surrounding the tower.

[color=00aeef]"Where are they? They need to get out of there!"

Distantly he felt a fearful Sil curled up on the ground.

"Sil!" He shouted. Without thinking he took a step forward as if to rush in there, but a firm grip on his shoulder held him back.

"You're all quite a troublesome lot, aren't you?" Said a familiar deep rich voice.

---

Nieffar smilled. Ironic that it had been Syella's voice that had brought him back. With all his plotting against her, she would have been better off letting him give in to the Insight.

Syella had been quick to jump in to the fray, her attacks on the soldiers were precise. Careful to not kill any of them. Her group of reinforcements had begun to surround the town guard and the Pact Makers.

A smug Nieffar got back to his feet. They had the Pact Makers now.

---

Malkev, the tall dark skinned man who The Kharu-Natjer proclaimed to be head of The Watch, stood behind Chres and Octavio. The man had draped himself in a cloak with the hood covering his head.

"You didn't honestly intend go recklessly charging in there just the two of you?"

In all honesty Chres hadn't intended to rush in there at all. It was only the unusual feeling of concern from Sil that moved him into action.

"You here to help?" Chres asked the man.

Malkev gave half chuckle. "Help? Not I lad. If I jumped in now, then they would start keeping a close eye on me. That wouldn't be good for any of us."

"Then why are you here?" Chres said absently, turning a worried gaze back to the tower.
"To stop you two from doing anything stupid."

"Well then I suppose you're a little too late."

Malkev nodded in agreement. "That much is all too clear."

Chres clenched his fists. His concern for Sil growing.

"Fortunately for you, Svephraey’s minions are on the case..."

Malkev pointed towards a growing group of bystanders running towards the tower. The shouted a cry, their weapons raised. It wasn't just them either! Some of the Cult's reinforcements had turned on their allies as well...

---

"Traitor..." Said a dying clansman to the left of Nieffar. Something was wrong. Some of the reinforcements appeared to be attacking some invisible force...

More familiars or illusions? No... the ones they were attacking were not invisible to the Insight. Rather they were just barely visible.

Strange... they appeared to be normal people, but then why were they so difficult for the Insight to notice?

Nieffar impaled one of these strange beings with his tendrils. the man cried out and bleed just like any other man.

There weren't many of the strange beings, just enough to be-

A growing battle cry rose from outside. More of these being rushed in and began attacking The Clan from behind.

"No!" Nieffar shouted. The beings were quickly clearing a path for the Pact Makers and Town Guard to escape.

"Run!" One of the beings shouted to the Pact Makers. "Get out of here, now!"

Nieffar screamed in rage, impaling the man's chest with his tendrils. Two flashes of Insight. Attacks from both sides. Nieffar lashed out at the attackers in a rage...

The Five Senses

Nieffar
Sil

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

“I said, on your feet!” Nieffar commanded.

Before large man could do anything, there came a flash of Insight. The Pact Makers charging down the stairs. There were… three of them? Who was the newcomer? He had not been with the original group…

A second flash of Insight. The newcomer lunging with his sword. Nieffar swiftly retract the tendrils that were his fingers away from the large man’s crotch. At the same time, he swept to the side with his stump of an arm, all the while extruding it. His elongated arm knocked away the attack, though not without the weapon hacking chips out of his wood like skin.

Beads of sickly yellowish green puss oozed from the new cuts in his arm. The pain, as always felt distant and dull.

“You should have fled while-”

Nieffar cut off. A third flash of Insight. His form tackled to the ground. A wound at his side- what?

An invisible force hit Nieffar, tackling him to the ground. The crack of wood rang out as he felt a strong grip bite into his side.

The pain this time was not dull. It was sharp and alarming. More yellowish green puss oozed out at his side. A few of the vine like spouts reconstructing his hand receded, as that wound had already been clotted. Instead the sprouts re-emerged out of the new wound, seeing it as a more crucial to patch.

Nieffar quickly got back to his feet. Instinctively, Nieffar re-extruded his good hand’s fingers back into sharpened tendrils. The tendrils launched his side striking nothing. His brow furrowed, a magic attach from the newcomer then?

A forth flash of Insight. Another attack where his leg met his backside. Nieffar launched his tendrils at the newcomer, only to be hit yet again. Another loud crunch. More vines from his reconstructing hand receded to patch up his even newer wounds.

Nieffar frantically searched for his attacker using the Insight. Something… something was wrong here… Nieffar closed his eyes and dove deep into the Insight’s embrace. Deep enough that it threatened to overwhelm him.

Yes… Now he understood. A patch of nothingness darted at him. So easily overlooked, as the Insight urged him to view past it.

”Tyfurkh, run!” Said a voice around where the nothingness should be.

Nieffar, ignored the fifth flash of Insight and allowing the Familiar’s teeth to clamp down on his calf. In an instant, his tendrils shot out. Wrapping themselves around the Familiar.

Nieffar frowned at the beast, kicking it with his good foot. A few of his clansmen had rushed to his side to protect him from further attacks from the Pact Makers.

“What am I to do with you?” He asked the feral animal. He tightened his grip around the beast as if to crush it. “Sightless Syella tells me that a touch of Shadow Metal works quite nicely on your kind.”

“Let him go!” Shouted a feminine voice behind Nieffar.

Something nipped at his ear. Its weight pulling his head to the side…

---

“You’re hurting him!” Sil cried, her words muffled by the chunk of ear between her teeth.

Sil hung from No Eyes’s ear in her winged ferret form. The moment No Eyes attacked Lynx, it had been like a switch went off in her mind. The world seemed a little clearer. Things seemed to make a little more sense.

Her friend was hurting! He needed her! She began clawing at No Eyes’s neck furiously. Her swipes barely making a scratch in his strangely tough skin.

“Another one?” Growled No Eyes. He swiped at her form with his stump of an arm. Sil swung herself out of the way, just enough for him to miss.

“Hurt me instead!” Sil pleaded. “I don’t feel pain so it’s okay, right?”

“Get Off!” No Eyes growled, his frustration growing. He swiped at her again. Again he missed.

“You’re… you’re not nice…” Sil said in cold realization. Why? Why had she thought that No Eyes was a nice person? He and Metalman were friends, weren’t they? No… They hadn’t been playing. No Eyes had been hurting him too! And all the while she just-

Sil’s frantic clawing began to slow. What was she doing? What had she been doing all her life?

“Let him go…” She pleaded more softly. “Please let-“

A powerful blow to her side cut off her words. This time No Eyes’s swipe hit. Sil felt herself go flying to the floor and landed with a bounce. Slowly, she changed back into her fairy form and curled up into a ball.

“Let him go-” She muttered to herself. She could feel her moment of clarity fading. Her thoughts starting to slip from her, like a floor wet with puddles.

“Please-” She whispered. “Let him go…”

The Five Senses

The Cult

@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation

---

Nieffar cursed as the situation devolved into choas. Everything had been preceding in a nice and orderly fashion. But then one of the younger clansmen had the bright idea to try and lodge a spear in Hark.

He failed to kill the man, thankfully. Hark proving to be swift on his feet, snapped the spear and kill his attacker with the spear leftover head.

Nieffar could sense the man’s life drain. The very thing giving him breathe fled from his form. His thoughts and mind dispersing back into the fabric of reality.

The Insight seemed almost sorrowful for his loss. Strange that. Nieffar would have thought it glad to be rid of any fool who knew not how to serve.

Hark’s attention seemed to have been shifted towards Smit. Good. Nieffar turned away from the commotion showing little concern. He refocused the Insight towards his capture who he slowly he approached.

A guardsman charged from behind an axe raised overhead. The Sightless absently raised his stump of a hand behind him. It extruded, with sudden grow, jutting itself squarely into the charging guardsmen’s abdomen. The man kneeled over in pain, his hands cradling his stomach.

Nieffar let his extruded arm collapse back in on itself in a rush. He stared down at his oversized capture and sneered.

“Get up.” Nieffar commanded. He poked his sharpened tendril into the giant’s precious cargo. Just enough to draw a bead of blood…

---

Smit yelped as the man named Drew dashed toward him.

DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! He thought, while quickly jumping out of the way of the man’s attack.

He stumbled to the ground, his hand landing on something cold beside him. Smit looked over to his side. A sword? Yes. From one of his fallen comrades.

Muttering a quick thanks, to the Unseeing, for a weapon with reach, Smit grabbed the weapon thrust through his attacker before the man had a chance to retaliate.

Smit exhaled a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, this man’s death quick drew the ire of Hark.

Nails on Metal! Smit thought. Why me? He scrambled to pick up the giant’s crossbow, only to realize it was unloaded.

Smit cursed. Oh, for the love of… He thought, tossing the crossbow aside. I wasn’t built for fighting! He pulled out a throwing knife instead. Using his other hand, he reached for his deterrents and pulled out his last chunk of wheezing pollen.

This man reacted quickly. Smit dared not get close. Instead he needed to stall. Smit threw the pollen at the ground in front of Hark. The pollen dispersed on impact. Yellow specs forming a cloud in the air around Hark.

---

The one restraining Tayla released his grip. His attention shifting towards the fighting rather than her. She knew what she need to do. Her time on the streets had taught her as much. In that moment, Tayla ran... or rather she ran as best as one could manage with a bruised foot.

Tayla fought through her pain and exhaustion. Her mind seemed unfocused, barely able to register what was happening.

Why was she running? Right… Nieffar… He… he was mad… mad at her… because Smit... he…

A different sort of pain threatened to overwhelm her. A pain from within.

Tayla grit her teeth. Don’t think about it. She thought.

She was a fool. She had let herself become far too accustom to his… What? Loyalty? His kindness? The way he actually seemed to care?

Damn it all! She had begun to feel somewhat secure… Safe… around a man, no less! She had begun to trust… trust that he would have her back! But then… but then…

Tayla shut her eyes. Don’t think about it! She thought ferociously. She wanted to block away the thoughts. Stuff away the hurt and lock it away. She didn’t want to acknowledge it. Didn’t want to care! And yet…

What right did he have to be angry with her?! She saved his life, hadn’t she? Yes… Yes she had but… but in truth… in truth it had been him who had come to rescue her... all because she… because had to… go and…

That woman… Tayla felt her pain turn to anger. Her thoughts shifting towards that little princess. The white haired woman. Head held high above the clouds. There she dared to look down on those she deemed beneath her.

Oh Little Miss Princess may pretend to care, but Tayla knew better. She didn’t really care about people like Tayla. She hadn’t really seen anything in her. No… All that woman really cared about was herself!

A fire burned in Tayla. Rage rushing through her veins. She grabbed hold of it. Channeled it. Used it to push away the pain and the cloud filling her head.

People like Miss Princess only pretended to care about people like Tayla. They did it as a way to boost their own sense of self-righteousness. The princess was the type of person who explained away her view of the world and expected others to fall in line and agree.

And those who disagreed? Those who saw things differently? The ones standing in direct opposition to her? Well, Tayla figured there was a reason behind the spoil brat’s that practiced cold stare.

Yes… It was the woman’s fault. All of this happened because of her! It was her fault Tayla failed the mission. Her fault the target got away. Her fault Smit-

DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! The words pounded through Tayla’s head. Were those tears streaming down her cheeks?

“I’ll kill her.” Tayla whispered. Her words shook with a mix of rage and sorrow. “Next time I see her… I’ll kill her for sure.”

It was then that Tayla ran head first into Sightless Syella…