FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

===================[CHAPTER 1]==============

This place is wrong.

No one had lived here for over a century but he could still faintly hear people, not his ancestors who built and died in these halls but the people above ground, the ones who owned him, Elves.

While not predisposed to superstition Seth couldn't help but feel a brief sense of dread upon entering this place, despite spending much of his free time digging through the old town he could never truly feel at peace within its confines.

Not to say he found peace outside of it.

The only other sounds that could be heard down in the warrens came from the wind blowing through the tunnels, his lantern, and his bare paws stepping through the water. He was an Acturan, one of only a few thousand living in Unseelie territory, and furthermore one of the only live Acturan living in the city above. They were all slaves as well

It took all of Seth's willpower to keep moving through the subterranean town. Years of conditioning told him to head back and accept his fate, that the relative painlessness of being culled outweighed whatever death he would suffer if caught trying to escape, that this plan of his was certain to fail, and that all he was doing was deceiving himsel-

His heart skipped a few beats as he was plunged into darkness, "I-It just ran out of air.. it just ran out.. of.. air.." he whimpered, setting down his lantern and rummaging through his rucksack for his spare air tank, shoveling through the collection of archaic manuscripts he had taken with him. He only had one extra and wasn't even sure that he filled it properly.

Upon finding it he shakily began to replace it; flinching at the sudden hiss of compressed air as the the pressure in the old tank equalized, fears of starving alone in the dark began creeping into his mind as he fumbled with the screws. Seth knew they were irrational: he could probably navigate by touch, and the water he was kneeling in was drinkable. Murky, but drinkable.

...And if the worst were to come there was always another option.

He began to calm down as it flickered back to life, reilluminating his surroundings. If he remembered correctly the tunnel outlet leading outside the city was just less than a mile north-east from where he was now, his one chance at freedom on the other side.

With this in mind Seth stood up from the shallow water and continued through darkness.

...

A few passages later he could finally see a light in the distance. "Dim light" he thought. "It must be getting dark already"

He quickened his pace, practically running towards the exit, grinning like an idiot as his fear began to fade, he was dozens of miles from Rastic territory and hundreds more from home but he still felt a glimmer of hop-

The grate was fixed.

As soon as it appeared the grin on his face died, all he could do was stare out at the forest, at the pines swaying in the wind, at the lush moss enveloping the underbrush, and at the quaint stream that the drain fed into, all wrapped in an almost dreamlike fog. He could smell the fresh pine mixed with the earthier scent of rain and ozone. He could hear birds calling in the distance... It seemed almost picturesque to Seth.

Tears began to flow down his face before he even took it in fully. Life had decided to torture him one last time before the end, to raise his hopes just to hurt them at the last moment. He slumped against the rough wall of the tunnel, pulling up his legs and resting his head between his knees as he wept to himself asking why the world hated him, why every attempt at changing things just made everything worse.

He sat there in stunned silence until his lantern finally sputtered and ran out of air again, as he was left in darkness another train of thought appeared in Seth's mind. That there had never been a chance at escape, that he really was stupid enough to believe he could make it.

He grit his fangs, the fear he had felt became misery and now anger. His clinched fists drove his claws hard enough into his palms to draw blood but he couldn't care less. "This world doesn't hate me, you can't feel hate without love, and I know there's none in this place" Seth thought "But I hate it so, so much"

In a fit of rage Seth threw his fist towards the grate, pain shot through his knuckles as they collided the wrought iron but he had suffered worse. He threw his fist at it again, and again, and again... Each time letting out a howl of combined hopelessness and rage until finally sitting back down, his throat hoarse and his left hand a bloodied mess.

He sat there for quite some time. The catharsis and adrenaline beginning to wear out and the pain coming back with a vengeance. Slowly, he spread his wounded fingers and watched the dripping blood mix with his tears, it reminded him of something, although he couldn't say whether it was a distant memory or some sort of fatigue induced delirium it somehow reminded him of something...

Another option.

Master had said "There is a dark mirror to every aspect of this world. Thaumaturgy, the Lefthand Path, Witchcraft, all of these solutions draw from the same mirror in different ways"

Seth feared its consequences.

But he feared the alternative far more.

With a shaky motion and a deep breath he sliced deeper into his left palm, pressing it flat against the side of the tunnel and smearing his blood across the wall, creating an array of jagged lines radiating from his handprint towards and upon the metal grate. With a brief prayer to whatever god was listening he closed his eyes and began to concentrate on his thoughts, he imagined the grate beside him shattering apart. No, corroding away- No, he was too focused on how it broke, not the end result.

He pictured the tunnel as he saw it earlier, a gleam of hope following years of suffering, the beautiful world beyond his cage, a world without doors, or walls, or even floors. A hazy world of ecstasy, a perfectly broken world he could call home, a life withou-

A metallic shriek broke his focus.

With a yelp he stumbled backwards, his left hand was in a fresh wave of pain, three burn marks lining his forearm parallel to the major nerves. The smell of singed fur, blood, and ozone making him nauseous as he steadied himself. With held breath he slowly opened his eyes and looked out the tunnel, wondering for a moment where the grate had gone before noticing the metallic dust caking his filthy robe and fur. He also noticed several droplets of bright, molten metal lining the wall opposite the Sigil he made.

Seth shuddered at the thought of what would have happened to him had he stood a few feet further from his mark. His thoughts were interrupted by distant shouting. Someone, no, several people must have heard that noise. Someone would certainly catch him if he didn't act quickly, he was sure a second escape attempt alone would result in a painful death, but a slave being found a Caster would be even worse.

With that in mind he dropped down into the stream below. For a moment he was swallowed by darkness once more as he had underestimated the waters depth, scrambling for air he meekly dog-paddled to the shore opposite the tunnel. Shivering as he half crawled-half climbed up the bank of the stream towards the forest, Seth heard a dog barking nearby, "Too close to belong to Kunzes" Seth thought, "I should have at least half an hour before the constable send out a patrol, but I've already left too many clues" Thinking back to the maps he had read the nearest "Acturan-tolerant" (I.e. a place that wouldn't immediately kill or capture him) province was Rastis, with the fastest route being along the riverside. "But that's the most obvious path for a fugitive, I could live in the forest?... No, there's no way I could hide from their wolfhounds."

"I'll cut though the woods north-west and head along the backroads towards the crossing, it'll take a few more days at least but its still my best option"

...

A few hours later Seth found his way onto the backroad, he decided to briefly stop and check his wounds. At this point he was covered in grime, tired, in pain, and cold: the rain meant his clothes never fully dried after falling into the stream. Sitting beneath one of the thicker pines he began to shuffle through his rucksack. Despite having planned his escape a few days in advance he didn't have much time to pack, as his master's death had come as a surprise.

Seth knew Toren would die soon, the bastard's luck had run out after his last series of experiments and he contracted Thaumaturgical Sickness, as if his age wasn't bad enough he rejected traditional medicine in favor of further Thaumaturgical procedures, practically treating his deathbed as a workstation even as his doctor pleaded with him to relax his projects for the time being. He had never bothered to write a will and Seth didn't think he had any heirs, much less colleagues.

After a few moments Seth found what he was looking for. Although damp his other robe would provide another, somewhat drier layer of insulation. After changing clothes he began to clean his wounded hand to the best of his abilities, he was sure he broke at least one of his fingers and was unsure whether or not he should try and "fix" it. Eventually deciding it was less important than taking care of the smaller scrapes and tears he had accumulated all over his body.

After dressing his wounds Seth started back on the road. The new moon coupled with the rain made it difficult for him to see where he was going, and while the occasional flash of lightning seemed helpful at first it meant his eyes never had a chance to fully adjust to the darkness around him, rendering him blind to anything more than a few meters ahead of him. At least, until the first major bridge came into view, illuminated by a lamppost

With an elven figure beneath it.

For a moment dread threatened to overcome Seth until he took a closer look at them. They were alone from what he could tell, on foot, and unarmed aside from an umbrella. They were obviously no slavecatcher, but why were they out in this weather?. "There's no other way across from here" Seth thought "And I'm already freezing, I'll probably die of exposure if I try and wade through. Assuming I didn't drown first."

He'd have to play it cool, while rare it wasn't unheard of for trusted slaves to run long distance errands. If questioned he could lie and say he was picking up a delivery, and this person probably had more important things to worry about than someone else's pet. "Just avoid eye contact... if they don't care about me then they won't bother me... right?

Keeping his head down Seth quietly strode towards the old bridge, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable than before. The figure leaning against the stone balustrade was dressed better than Seth had expected, not richly clothed but more than a tad finer than most vagrants he had seen, he also seemed half asleep from the look of it... With a sigh of relief Seth picked up his pace an-

"Oh hello... you wouldn't happen to..."

Seth slowly turned to face the stranger, his attempt at hiding his fear only making it more clear how nervous he was.

"...have directions to St Xander's?... uh.. Miss?." said the Elf

For a moment Seth just looked at him incredulously.

"You see, I've been kinda... lost out here... for the last few hours... names Rowan by the way."

============[CHAPTER 2]================

It was far too late for him to turn back.

The storm had calmed into a pleasant rain around the same time he reached the river crossing. Pleasant to look at of course, but not so nice to walk in, an improvement to be sure though visibility was still a pain outside the faint glow of the lamppost he leaned against. Brushing away bits of foliage stuck in his cloak Rowan considered his next move. Hiking through the dense pines of this corner of the world may not have been his finest idea but time was of the essence. He needed to reach St Xander's by tomorrow if he wanted to claim his inheritance.

"Retiring at age twenty-three while the rest of the world goes to shit, now that's the Seelie way of life!" Thought Rowan, squeezing water out of his clothes "Not sure what I'll do with the bulk of the money, plus I don't know what debts the old bastard's racked up"

This was the frontier, where provincial lords ruled and homeland law was considered debatable outside the major cities, especially this far out in the countryside

Regardless of why he came here Rowan had been lost for far longer than he'd have liked to admit, what was supposed to have been the quickest step of his journey to Xander's had become a prolonged hike through green hell as he attempted a shortcut through the dense woodland. The ironic result of his impatience and impulsivity. At first he played it off as scenic walk through a lush new world, at least until the already dark new moon was blocked by the storm rolling in.

Now he was just soaked, cold, and tired... of mud especially.

Eventually his wandering led him to this old bridge in the outer rim of nowhere, upon which he decided to rest for the time being. He was already unfamiliar with the cities of this province, much less its boonies. He would wait and ask a local for directions, figuring someone was sure to live nearby with the lamp post beside him being proof of that.

After a while he began to doze off. It must have been midnight or later when he finally saw someone come by, almost missing them in the near pitch darkness outside the lamp light. For a moment he hesitated: wondering what they were doing out here without a light, before saying;

"Oh hello... you wouldn't happen to..."

Rowan froze for a moment as the figure turned to face him, it was an Acturan. A canine people who were already rare here in Unseelie, and nonexistent back home across the ocean.

He wasn't even sure they existed until now.

"...have directions to St Xander's?... uh.. Miss?." asked Rowan "Why are they shaking?, is she sick?, I'm a bit ragged I guess but... "

Seth just stared at him incredulously.

"You see, I've been kinda... lost out here... for the last few hours... names Rowan by the way." He said. "Oh, and I'm not- I'm not trying to rob you or anything"

Seth said nothing, wondering if he'd hit his head on the way here.

"...Maybe that wasn't the most reassuring way of putting it"

"..." said Seth, slowly walking away

"So... hold on a moment please, can you speak my language?, are you mute?, please nod once if you can understand me and twice if you can also-

"I can speak fine... sir " said Seth quietly

"Nice, are you lost too?, seems dangerous to be alone out here this late, especially for young women"

"Um... I'm not actually..."

"Oh, if your not lost then maybe you could-"

"I meant I'm not a girl" Seth interrupted with a hint of indignation, realizing his tone he looked down and quickly added "I'm sorry sir, please forgive my outburst, I just get that a lot"

"Well I can't say I'm too surprised" said Rowan.

"...Sorry" said Rowan awkwardly "...Also, are you okay? you look like you've seen a ghost"

"I'm fine" Seth said cautiously. This whole exchange was too absurd for him to be too worried, though he figured it best to appear meek for the time being, and he was wasting too much time on top of that "But I really need to get going sir, my master, Toren, isn't very patient with me and I'm already running late"

"I'm not completely lying" Seth thought. "I need to cover more ground, quickly"

"Wait, do you mean the old bastard Toren Greywells?" Seth's heart skipped a beat "I didn't know he had an apprentice... And he croaked just a few days ago, right?."

"He thinks I'm Toren's apprentice?, and how did he learn about his death so quickly?" Seth thought " He did... but he... asked me to deliver something for him... before he died of course." said Seth shivering, the wind was picking up again and even with drier clothes he was cold. Hugging himself he said, "I'm sorry, I've just been wasting both of our time" he said, trying to change subject "If you want to get to Xander's its just a few miles south-west of here, turn left at the first crossroads and just keep heading straight along the rest of them and you can't miss it"

"Thanks" said Rowan before frowning "...And I'm sorry if I was insensitive about your teacher's death, I don't know how close you two were but that was uncalled for"

"No, don't be, he deserved it" Seth said bitterly without thinking.

For a few long seconds all was silent besides the wind and rain.

And a dogs barking in the distance.

Multiple dogs barking.

"...I'm sorry, did I mishear you?" asked Rowan

"I-I meant he didn't deserve to suffer any longer!" Seth squeaked hastily "Those are wolfhounds... no... that can't be right... I was supposed to have more time"

"Yeah... I guess I can understand that" said Rowan concernedly "Anyways thanks again for the directions, I owe you a favor"

"No problem" said Seth anxiously, looking back into the dark pines behind him. "Could I please go ahead and cash it in?"

"Oh, that was fast... but sure, what is it?"

"I think there's a man following me. If you meet a human named Kunzes and he asks if you've seen an Acturan pass by... An Arcturan named Seth, please, don't mention me.. at all" Shivering, Seth whispered- "Please, if he finds me he'll kill- No, th-thats not like him, he wants me alive, h-he wants to see me suffer...I"

"...I can't- I can't go back"

Seth hugged himself tighter, subconsciously driving the claws of his good hand into his robe and cracking open the scabs of his wounded one. Rowan noticed he looked physically ill in addition to his injuries, as if he was about to vomit then and there.

"I can't... I.." Seth whimpered, tears forming in his eyes "I can't go back to him I... I'd rather die...I can't.. I-I.."

"Hey... it's going to be okay" Rowan said, a bit awkwardly "I- to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about but I promise, if I see this Kunzes guy I won't tell him anything, alright?" Seth looked at him hopefully "I don't know what you've been through but if you could put up with whatever shit Toren taught you I'm sure you'll be fine"

"You mean it?, th-thank you" said Seth, with a nervous smile "I just hope its not too late"

"I-I need to go" said Seth abruptly, quickly running across the bridge before turning and shouting back- "I hope Xander's treats you better than it did me!"

And with that Seth left, resuming his journey to Rastis with a dissonant mix of renewed dread and hope at his current situation. Leaving Rowan to consider this unusual encounter and whether or not this person was being followed or was simply paranoid.

"And what did Toren do to him?" Rowan asked himself "Or what did He do to Toren?"

Either way the night was only getting colder, and the rain was starting to return in force. Picking up his personal oil lamp off the ground and checking its reserves before relighting it, he briefly considered attempting to steal some oil out of the lamp post beside him but quickly decided against it. He wouldn't need more now that he knew where he was going.

"Regardless he's pretty cute for a non Seelie" Rowan thought, as a grey-clad horseman emerged from the darkness beside him.

========

It was just before sunrise when Kunzes began his hunt. He had heard about how someone had used some ad-hoc form of Thaumaturgy to blast through one of the city's storm drains, and that Toren's pet; one of the Mudlarks he himself had broken, was missing alongside several private documents.

He doubted these events were unrelated.

Having disciplined him personally he knew that Seth wasn't stupid, a spineless fag maybe but still more cunning than most of the slaves he'd trained over the years. He was unlikely to try and walk hundreds of miles to get to a truly abolitionist province, and instead Kunze guessed that he'd try and cross the river border into Rastis. He would have to either stowaway on a boat or ford the river at its lowest point as the border guard wouldn't allow an Arcturan to cross without it's owner or a passport.

With that in mind Kunzes would stalk the backroads for his quarry, he had sent one of his subordinates along the main road out of Xander's just in case Seth really did take the most obvious route out of Unseelie. Regardless of where the slave ran off too he was almost certain he'd find him by evening, he had a horse, a pair of wolfhounds, and a decades worth of experience in his craft on his side compared to Seth's intuition and magic tricks. As he rode out Kunzes fantasized about what he'd do to the Acturan after taking him, he couldn't hurt him too badly until he purchased his deed from Toren's grand-nephew, the brat was supposed to have arrived sooner to deal with his inheritance but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Whatever" Kunzes thought "If Rowan doesn't show up I'll just stick that mongrel in my cellar and write him off as missing"

Some time later Kunzes saw a weather stained traveler ahead of him along the road, he was alone and while he would usually pay them no mind something about this one seemed familiar.

"Ah Rowan was it?" said Kunzes "You match Toren's description"

"Eh?, yeah... that's my name" said Rowan, looking exhausted "...Who are you exactly?"

"A friend of your grand-uncle, looking for someone who stole from your inheritance." said Kunzes "In addition to damaging city property and other crimes"

"So you're an enforcer of some type?, I meant what's your name?" said Rowan, quickly adding "I don't think we've met before"

"I prefer the term hunter personally, and the names Marcel" said Kunzes, talking note of the apparent relief in Rowans expression "You wouldn't by chance have seen any unusual individuals on your way here have you?"

Rowan frowned at that question "...How so exactly?, and Marcel you said?"

"Yes, Marcel Versin to be precise." lied Kunzes "But that's besides the point, We're looking for any sort of suspicious individual as we currently lack a solid lead... though we believe the thief to be an Acturan based on the footprints"

Kunzes was certain that Rowan had encountered Seth recently, his expression alone gave that away. He also assumed that Seth had told him his sob story at least in part, and that this brat didn't want to endanger the Acturan. "He also doesn't understand the importance of what Seth took" thought Kunzes "Otherwise he would be either trying to kill me or help me depending on the circumstances"

"In addition this individual is believed to be a competent Thaumaturge" Kunzes continued "Capable of destroying wrought iron structures and people alike without the aid of any tools or weapons"

"Okay, he has to be exaggerating" Thought Rowan "I doubt that little guy could hurt someone seriously if his life depended on it"

"Or could he?"

"I'm... not sure I've seen anyone matching that description" said Rowan carefully "Could you be more specific?"

"Somewhat short, tan fur, yellowish eyes" said Kunzes "Likely dressed in a ragged coat or robe... does that ring any bells?"

"That's him, that sounds like Seth" Thought Rowan "So is this man lying about his name?, he doesn't seem nearly as menacing as Seth made him out to be, but, I can't shake this feeling he's trying to pick my mind for something I hadn't even thought of"

"No... I haven't seen anyone like that" said Rowan after some time.

"Unfortunate, well he can't be that far from here" said Kunzes dismissively, starting across the bridge. "Your lying could use work by the way"

========

After some time trudging along the dirt path towards Xander's the road changed from increasingly muddy packed earth to overgrown cobblestones upon the first crossroads, then from mossy stone to roughly cut bricks along the second. Rowan wondered if they were laid by the new settlers or the old inhabitants of this province, as at least one camp of scholars theorized that the ruins cities like Xander's are built upon were originally constructed by a first wave of colonizers that were wiped out... of course, this didn't explain the radically different architectural style, machines, and materials used.

And it certainly didn't explain the bodies.

"I'm guessing it was Seth's people who built this road" Rowan thought "It's the obvious answer, though I doubt the nobility would like to believe that"

"I hope he's alright" Rowan sighed, at least he made it to his destination, though he could only hope that Seth could say the same.

Aside from a few farm houses and a stable most of the city was nestled within Xander's unusual walls. The walls were split between an old grey, dense, and heavily reinforced stone slab base with much newer and white-painted brick and wood battlements all along the top, like a crown upon a broken tooth. The gatehouse and gate itself was painted white despite being of the older style, and as Rowan approached it he could see that it was, unsurprisingly, closed for the night.

Undeterred, Rowan crossed the old stone bridge over the moat and peered into one of the gatehouse's old arrow slits to see if there was anyone on watch. Unfortunately, he couldn't see anyone though some candles were left burning in the room. Not wanting to wait in the rain (and being generally impatient) for whoever lit them to return he decided that the best course of action would be get their attention somehow.

"HEY!, anyone in there?!" Rowan yelled through the arrow slit "I need someone to open the gate!, anyone really!"

No sound but the rain.

"Come on!, I know someone's in there!" Rowan yelled again "And I know you can hear me!"

"DO YOU WANT TO LISTEN TO ME ALL NIGHT?" Rowan shouted

"God's sake no" Someone said angerly, before appearing on the other side of the slit "Just show me your pass if you want in this late, don't need to wake everyone else because you took too long!"

"Certainly" Rowan said smugly, before frowning "Pass?, is this place quarantined?, or are you just charging people to get into this dump?"

"I'm charging people for wasting my time and making me open this damn door" The gatesman said flatly "four marks for opening it and double if you try and haggle with me"

"That seems kinda exorbitant don't you think?" Rowan said, holding out the money "I'm not arguing, just saying"

The gatesman said nothing, simply taking the money and walking out of the room. Worried he just got scammed Rowan would have started shouting again if it wasn't for the heavy portcullis slowly and noisily retracting up into the gate, followed by the thick wooden doors behind it unlocking.

"Welcome to Xander's" said the gatesman sarcastically, opening the door and gesturing Rowan in with an exaggerated bow "The finest shithole this side of the frontier!"

Chapter 3 version 2 - Inevitable

Fear flooded Seth's mind as he raced down the road to Rastis, he couldn't hear the wolfhounds anymore but still knew he was far from safe out along this road. He'd have to travel through the forest if he wanted a chance at escaping Kunzes. Covering more ground wasn't an option, as not only was Kunzes far more athletic than Seth but also on horseback and likely carrying less gear.

Gear he didn't need.

"I'm an idiot" Thought Seth bitterly "Maps, rope, Mess kit, food, Air tank for the stupid lantern I lost, I spent so much time planning out what I'd like to take that I forgot to think how much it would weigh me down" Realistically he knew the extra weight only slowed him marginally but with the knowledge that the Slavecatcher couldn't be any further than a mile behind him at best decided it was worth it to ditch his gear along the roadside and just take a knife alongside the precious manuscripts his former master had worked and obsessed over... the documents Seth helped create.

Shaking aside the thought and cramming the parchment in a now empty mess box Seth resumed his journey, with knife in hand he felt a bit safer as he left the road for the dense forest again. With the ground like a chunky pudding from the sheets of rain beating down on it he knew he'd leave tracks yet hoped that said mush would quickly fill them again, if not then Seth could only hope that Kunzes would pass them by without noticing... unlikely as that may be.

As Seth crept through the woods he took the time to consider had happened thus far, thinking about how easily things could have gone far worse before and how he could have done better to fix what had. "I should've checked that grate the day before" he thought frustratedly, climbing over a fallen tree trunk "out of all the crumbling mess that is Xander's why did they have to fix the damned grate?" Adrenaline had dulled the throbbing pain in this hand but now it came back in full force, flexing his fingers Seth hissed as he felt the freshly scabbed over wounds begin to crack open "Hopefully it'll heal back okay... I can still move them even though it hurts"

Eventually the dense pines grew thinner as the ground led into a large floodplain, flooded as the name implies from the current storm. From what Seth had heard there was a long bridge spanning the dip in elevation but using said path would mean heading back along the main road which he had just left, stripping his robe so it wouldn't get wet and wrapping it around the box he began to wade through the floodplain,

While the water wasn't exceptionally deep it was steadily flowing and filled with a number of slick stones and after a few minutes of relative quiet Seth inevitably slipped on one. Thankfully he didn't lose the box and the only damage he took was emotional as him, his smallclothes, and his robe were all soaked again. Shivering he pulled himself to his feet and continued, eventually climbing onto a little island held together by a patch trees clinging to the ground around a large boulder.

After wringing some of the water from his robe and smallclothes he put them back on and sat in a sort of corner made up of the boulder and a tree pressing into the side of it. Freezing, Seth curled into a soggy ball of fur and mud clutching the box against his chest. Originally he planned to try and turn the papers in at a forward thinking university that would understand just how important these documents were and work to stop what was to come... and maybe even help give him a new start in life.

"If they believe me..." Seth thought desperately "A ragged, filthy Acturan with a box of insane Thaumaturgical ramblings and theories begging you to take them seriously" The collar around his neck certainly wouldn't help him any, as even if neither the college or local police in Rastis were obligated to return him to Xander's they also weren't expected to stop a private bounty hunter from taking him by force.

"Even if they do believe me... who's to say they wouldn't try and follow through with it instead of stopping it?" he thought, looking down at the little box "And with Toren dead... an entire college of doctors and Thaumaturges would have as good if not better chances of completing the work than Kunzes and the others" much like the cold rain washing over him a newfound dread began to pool in his mind, the fear that whatever action he took to make things right would only make things far worse.

Opening the box Seth took out one of the more coherent notes, this one he had written himself based on his master's command. It was written on tough parchment and well treated against accidental tearing in addition to water and fire proofing, and unlike most of the other documents the instructions it contained were actually tested by Toren rather than simply being theories or observations.

"I should have just trashed these" thought Seth as he skimmed through the notes "if I toss them into the water it would take weeks if not months for them to decay, same if I bury them" Sighing he wondered how much of a difference it would make if he had just left the notes along the roadside with his bag, Kunzes would still hunt him for personal reasons but finding the notes might make him consider postponing his fun until after analyzing what Toren had kept hidden from him.

"I shouldn't be thinking about that, I've already ruined too many lives to try and save mine that easily" he thought, tears starting to well in his eyes "If I can't make amends then the least I can do is try and stop some of the suffering"

With that thought lingering in his mind and a fist full of papers in hand Seth began to chew and tear a chunk out of the documents, it was rough on his throat but he managed to swallow the thick parchment a little at a time, the thought that it could be made of Acturan skin made him gag but he pushed through it. He knew that it was some sort of hide or skin but wasn't sure if it was livestock or person, of course, this distinction didn't always exist in the eyes of slavers.

As he slowly ate the papers Seth tried to think of something to distract himself from the task at hand, all the pretty trees, the sound of water washing over the floodplain, eventually he thought about that Seelie he had met earlier. He had acted friendlier to Seth than most Seelie, but that didn't mean much considering he had something to gain from their encounter. In the unlikely event of them meeting a second time Seth decided it would be best not to trust him again, especially considering he didn't know if Rowan had lived up to his side of the deal and kept quiet about meeting him.

"And how did he know about Toren?" Seth wondered uneasily "Definitely not a friend of his, certainly not a colleague... Toren never had children and his siblings are long dead. So not family unless distantly related... but how and why would he only be here now?" With that thought he forced down the last bit of parchment and curled back into a fetal position between the boulder and tree, with the knowledge that he left no tracks in the floodwaters and that the rain would wash away whatever tracks and scent trail he left in the forest he attempted to get some sleep, figuring that without an obvious lead Kunzes would be unlikely to scour the little island in the middle of a flooded field. And besides that exhaustion had started to catch up with Seth, which despite the dampness made the relatively stable tangle of muddy tree roots that made up this tiny island look at least somewhat comfortable.

"I'll need to sleep sooner or later" Seth said to himself as he considered the now empty box "I hope just this once I'll be able to sleep soundly"

And with that and a yawn he closed his eyes and drifted into troubled sleep.

==================================

The city within Xander's walls was as eclectic as the walls themselves, with many of the buildings being built atop or against the stone brick foundations of the old Acturan city, which to Rowan's surprise were far more organized and in spite of their age, more structurally stable than the newer Unseelie buildings that dominated the surface roads of the settlement.

"Is the new stuff just that shoddy or is it abandoned?" thought Rowan as he walked down the old road, noticing how the street was lined with ominous grates that seemed far newer than the surrounding stonework, they seemed to be intended as makeshift storm drains with the surrounding street ripped apart to form a crude gutter, a gutter that was being cleared of debris by a pair of Acturan children.

"Poor kids" he thought. They looked tired, one of them was missing most of an ear while the other seemed ill. Rowan knew he was lucky to have been born to a rich family, but child labor (especially like this) was uncommon even amongst poorer Seelie. Taking a few marks out of his pocket he approached the two, a sister and brother it seemed. "Here" he said, holding out the money "it's not much but it should feed you both for a few days"

It took the pair a moment to realize Rowan was talking to them and upon learning that they immediately seemed taken aback by the offer "We... we were told not to take money sir" said the one-eared girl apprehensively "especially this much, people will think we stole it"

"You don't have to spend it all at once" said Rowan, the fact these children had to worry about such things appalled him, though he tried not to show it "and if someone still asks where you got it just say you were lucky and found it in the gutter"

"That's not a bad idea" said the girl's brother softly, looking out towards the city’s entrance "maybe we could ask Seth to help us buy things if he comes back, he used to buy stuff for Toren a lot so no one would question it"

"Actually... that's a really good idea!" said the girl excitedly, before turning to Rowan "Thank you so much, mister?..."

"Rowan, and it's really no problem, I wish I could do more to help though" he said sadly before adding "is Seth part of your family?, I met someone called Seth earlier that looked like one of you"

"...What do you mean?, he's an adult" the girl asked puzzled with a hint of concern "Oh, he's also got sandy fur and spots on his face. He's not like most of us"

"That's because he's Minth" said her brother quietly, looking down "There's not many of his people left, the Enclavers and Jursen killed them all"

He shivered as the cold wind started to pick up, hugging himself before adding "It's sad... he's lonely and almost no one will talk to him because of it"

"Hey Chet... you shouldn't think about that" his sister said with a frown before looking to Rowan “Seth isn’t family; but he’s a friend, he’s done a lot to help us ever since our parents left”

“He taught me how to read, but then he left too...” said Chet in a voice barely louder than a whisper, still looking out towards the entrance to Xander’s “I hope he comes back, I know he can’t but-

“Not right now, Chet” his sister cut him off, gesturing to the gutter “Not here... just finish up with the litter in the ditch for me okay?”

“...Okay Basil” he replied sadly

“Did something bad happen with Seth?” asked Rowan, wondering how complex his situation was, and how far should he pry into it. “He told me that he worked with my grand-uncle Toren and was fleeing from someone named Kunzes, other than that I don’t know anything about him”

“No it’s-” Basil froze abruptly, taking a step away from Rowan and looking around them “You’re his nephew??” she asked with a great deal of urgency “I- we shouldn’t say anything else, Kunzes and the others won’t like it”

Like her brother, Basil began to shiver; though it was clearly out of fear rather than the cold “I-I don’t want to be rude, especially not to a nice person but please pretend you never met us” she said hastily, reaching for her brother’s hand “Come on, we’ve done enough; let’s get home”

“Hey wait-” started Rowan but they were already running, and he couldn’t imagine chasing them would be a good idea. “But who exactly are the “Others?”, why do they fear Kunzes?; did I meet someone else earlier?” he wondered.

Most of Xander’s was silent as he meandered through its streets and aside from the occasional rat, militiaman, and fellow oddball it was also a rather lonely venture; with none but the latter offering directions to the city’s customs office.

“Down by what remains of the docks, behind the old walls... inside the old walls” said a particularly fidgety... soldier?, Rowan wasn’t sure “The muddydog men didn’t like the new ones: they burned them, shot them, and set it on fire again for good measures... good measures” the Soldier(?) suddenly took his hat off and crumpled it into his pocket “Too dry for my scalp. Oh, and Luthay is a good one- not a scalp mind you but a ragpicker, good to my son... my son”

“Thanks... for the directions” said Rowan, not wanting to get too deep into a one sided conversation but still curious “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a man named Kunzes would you?”

“Oh he’s not a good one, Jursen and very rude, ruder than usual- I want to shoot him” he said in a surprisingly casual tone “But the govt’ took my gun, and my bayonets’ too dull and I hate sharpening it... sharpening it”

“That’s probably for the best...” thought Rowan “Ah, that matches what I’ve heard... I need to get going now”

“Okay, take care then” said the Soldier dismissively, walking off “I’ll be here if you need me!...need me” he said without stopping or indicating where exactly he’d be.

“You too?” replied Rowan uncertainly “has everyone in this city just gone mad?”

After some time following the path before him Rowan began to see what that odd soldier had been talking about; although the Acturan walls making up the base of Xander’s defences had withstood it the thinner (and wooden) Unseelie walls on top were clearly shredded by cannon fire. Peering through what appeared to be an old arrow slit Rowan could see that the docks below were almost entirely burnt as well, with only a small handful of cutter ships and a lone frigate having survived.

Reminding himself of his task he continued on to the customs office, a short building which despite being located this far into the frontier was built in a crude, nearly insulting imitation of the Seelie architecture commonly found in the homeland, in addition to being conspicuously marked with the Customs Office's coat of arms. "Funny that a load of bureaucrats would have one" Rowan thought amused "they could call themselves pen paladins". As he approached the building Rowan heard what sounded like fighting and oddly enough cheering coming from within, and upon entering was greeted with another even unusual sight.

On the ground grappling a pompously dressed and particularly furious looking Elf was an equally tired looking Acturan. He had a simple prosthetic leg beneath his right knee and was dressed in the garb of a Customs Officer while trapping the unfortunate Seelie in an improvised armbar, the Acturan hardly seemed to care about Rowan's sudden arrival as he glared down at the seething man below him.

"Just give them a minute" said a voice next to him. Startled, he looked beside him to find another Elf grinning as they watched the one sided fight before them, this one dressed similarly to the Acturan minus the collar and addition of a security armband. "It's been awhile since Lulu's gotten to jack someone up this bad!"

"Call me that again and you'll be next" said the Acturan unamused, glancing up at Rowan he added with equal parts sarcasm and tedium "By my god and sovereign, welcome to the Royal Customs Office. Please hold until the current applicant is dealt with"

"Is... Is this just how things are done out here?" Rowan whispered to the Customs guard

"More or less" the guard whispered back with a shrug before looking back at the Acturan

"Alright, alright, it's been awhile since Luthay's gotten to jack someone up this bad" said the Customs guard "oh, and I've got a ticket written up for the poor smuggler after your done jacking him"

"Did that poor attempt at a joke come naturally to you or did you actually spend time thinking of that?" sighed Luthay, before looking back down at the angry Elf beneath him, "You can either crawl out of here with at least some dignity intact or I can yank your arm out of its socket, either way don't come back until you're ready to pay bail for your stupid boat"

"I'll buy you just to flay your nasty pelt personally you damn ragpicker" spat the pompously dressed smuggler "get your filthy ass off of me and I'll have the courtesy to cull you first"

"That would be easier with two arms wouldn't it?" said Luthay, before suddenly twisting and violently jerking the Seelie's arm back with a sickeningly wet popping sound.

For a brief second everything went quiet. Until with a start the smuggler let out a bloodcurdling shriek as the pain set in, worsened by the fact that Luthay continued to apply pressure, bending the arm back until his hand touched the wood floor behind him. "I hope you're happy with your choice" he said, standing up and looking down at the now sobbing Elf "this wouldn't have happened if you were at least competent, now leave before I dislocate your other shoulder"

"I'll... I'll have your head" the smuggler wheezed, starting to get up "Just you wait until... until your owner hears of th-"

"hears of how a one legged ragpicker beat you into submission?, he'd get some amusement out of it so go ahead " said Luthay, smirking as he turned to face the guard "Since this idiot refuses to leave would you mind jailing him at the castle Joey?"

"But its cold and rainy out there" Joey pouted "how about we compromise and I just push him down the stairs outside?

"Fine" said Luthay, grabbing a crutch he left lying by the counter. Turning to Rowan he added in a well practiced tone "Hi, how can I serve you?"

"Oh... I'm just here about my inheritance" said Rowan awkwardly, fumbling for and handing over his documents "My grand-uncle died suddenly and his will stated that he wished to leave everything to his youngest adult family member"

"Alright, not an unusual occurrence out here" replied Luthay as he skimmed through the papers "Now, do you wish for... oh”

“Something wrong?” asked Rowan

“No it’s just... I didn’t think Toren had any family” said Luthay with some concern “And you’re earlier than we would’ve expected, considering he only died two days ago”

“What do you mean?, I got this letter weeks ago” said Rowan uncertainly “are we talking about two different people?”

“No... this is him” said Luthay bewildered as he read the document “Toren Greywells, same address, dates match up, wax seal is correct... I’ll need to cross reference his will of course but... this is strange” He stood up from his seat and gestured for Rowan to follow him “Could you follow me to my office?, we’ll take care of your inheritance and I’d like to ask you a few questions if you wouldn’t mind”

"Sure... that's fine" said Rowan, following him down a corridor "I have some questions of my own as well"

"Fair enough" said Luthay, opening a door and gesturing him inside a small, cluttered office "I can tell you're not from Xander's and likely not from anywhere else in Unseelie territory. Hell, you're not even from the frontier are you?"

"Not really, I'm from Laumonix" answered Rowan as he sat down "it's a port city west of here, built on an island a short distance from the continent"

"I've heard of it, never been there obviously but we used to get a lot of cargo heading to and from the place" replied Luthay as he sat across from him, fiddling with the collar around his neck, which Rowan could see was raw and scarred over from the roughly textured metal. Thinking back to what that smuggler had said he wondered why the Acturan was wearing it and how long he'd been for his neck to be in such bad shape,

"That collar... it looks painful" said Rowan, thinking it likely served as some form of penance or other religious purpose. “Why do you wear it?”

"...Are you mocking me?" came Luthay's response as he glared across the small table at Rowan “You act like I have a choice”

“What?, no. I wasn’t trying to mock you, I genuinely wanted to know why” said Rowan apologetically “I’m guessing it’s religious or cultural right?”

For a few long seconds they both said nothing, with no sounds to break that uncomfortable silence save the wind from outside and the occasional crackle of the candle until at last Luthay spoke “You really are an outsider” he said quietly “Tell me, does slavery exist back in your homeland?”

“No, not in centuries” replied Rowan, not liking what Luthay was hinting at “At least not in the form of chattel slavery, unfair contracts still exist and penal labor is common but... that isn’t what your asking now is it?”

“No, it isn’t” said Luthay with a sigh “Loath as I am to say it aloud I’m a slave. I’ll most likely die with this piece of trash around my neck, the fact it’s melted shut doesn’t help”

“I see, I’m sorry for what its worth” said Rowan “which isn’t much but...”

“Don’t pity me” replied Luthay flatly “I would rather be abused in every sense of the word than be pitied, especially from someone as well off as yourself”

“That’s understandable” said Rowan, wishing to change subject he asked “I do have another question, it’s complicated but you might know something about it”

“Alright, I’ll entertain it for now” said Luthay, fishing some papers out of a drawer “business is slow this late at night, and you’re marginally better conversation than that smuggler for what its worth, which isn’t much but...” he smirked slightly “is better than nothing”

“Better than nothing is still better, so I’ll take it” Rowan said with a small smile before frowning “Now my question is... do you know anything about an Acturan named Seth?, and why a man named Kunzes would be following him?”

Although he didn’t say anything his expression spoke plenty, starting with honest surprise, followed by suspicion spliced with a hint of fear and anger, before settling on genuine bewilderment.

“What?...” was all Luthay could say, his hand shaking slightly.

“I met an Acturan named Seth earlier on my way here, he mentioned working for Toren; who you seemed familiar with” explained Rowan “And since almost everyone I’ve spoken to has heard of Kunzes I figured he must be quite famous around here ”

“...Famous isn’t the term I’d use” said Luthay, his eyes narrowed “Infamous doesn’t fit either, I don’t think there’s a simple way of putting it” he shook his head “But you said he’s following Seth?, I thought he had more time”

“Time for what?, why is he following him?” asked Rowan “Kunzes said that Seth had stolen something, which isn’t to say I believe him; he seemed like a compulsive liar when we spoke, but I don’t know what his motive for lying would be”

“He’s a liar for sure, but his motive is far worse than you could imagine; and I barely know half of it” said Luthay tensely “And I’ll tell it to you so long as you promise me something, and by god if you betray me I will track you down, and throttle you myself”

“...Alright” said Rowan apprehensively, feeling that the Acturan fully meant what he said “What is it?”

“Promise me that once I sign over ownership of Toren’s assets you’ll never surrender Seth to Kunzes” said Luthay “Seth is my friend, and would rather die than become his again. You can punish him, cull him, or sell him to a plantation, but swear that you will never let Kunzes have him”

“I have no issue promising that, I didn’t even realize he was also a slave until now” said Rowan with sadness in his voice “I swear that I will do all in my power to protect him from Kunzes and try to emancipate him as soon as possible, I swear it”

Luthay seemed pleasantly surprised by his earnestness, athough the brief smile he gave would fade as soon as it appeared “This is all worthless if Kunzes decides to just kill you for refusing to sell Seth to him... or if he drags him off to his compound instead of back to Toren’s manor... which I doubt he will, he still wants some of Toren’s wizard shit and bringing back the bastard’s lost pet free of charge would make most people trust him more” Luthay paused for a moment, thinking of something “I’ll send Joey and another one of my troops with you as security once Kunzes gets back”

“Alright, no complaints from me” said Rowan with a sigh of relief “I guess that leaves Kunzes motive and the paperwork right?”

“Indeed it does” replied Luthay

Seth hummed quietly to himself as he tread through the creek, although it was cloudy he knew the sun had begun to set, engulfing the woods in a gentle amber glow. For reasons he couldn’t perfectly put into words Seth felt at peace “Is it the little things?, the water is nice... nicer than the drains beneath Xander’s. And there’s fish all around my feet... are you trying to eat me?, I can eat you too silly...” thought Seth hazily, looking up from the creek bed he could see pale blue lights sparkling between the trees “Wisps? it’s been a while since I gave them a treat... I wonder if they like fish?”

Reaching into the water Seth tried to grab a fish as it swam by, but his movements felt heavy, and he could do little more than weakly paw at them as they swam past “maybe if I use both hands they’ll slow down for me” Using one hand to gently nudge a particularly long one towards his other allowed Seth to scoop it up in both hands “Ha!, got you silly. It’s only fair the Wisps get to eat you after you tried eating my feet!”

As Seth began to climb up the bank of the creek he smelled a familiar metallic scent accompanied by an equally familiar shrieking noise, looking behind him he could see that between the trees on the creek side opposite of the Wisps was a single Acturan skull seemingly frozen in place a few meters above the ground; it wasn’t a clean one either, cracked and encrusted with splotches of soot and blood.

“A fallen Ranger?” wondered Seth as he gazed upon the unmoving skull. He’d never seen a ghost like this before and wondered why it was watching him “Hello?” asked Seth, receiving no response “haven’t you got somewhere to go?” he didn’t want to be rude but the entity’s incessant staring had put him on edge.

“No, but I do” said Seth aloud to no one in particular, blinking confusedly.

“...Why did I say that?” he thought, as the sound of dogs barking could be heard nearby

With a panicked jerk Seth awoke from his dream, scrambling to his feet he checked his surroundings. Although it was cloudy as ever the near pitch-darkness had lightened to a gloomy twilight; allowing him to see both sides of the floodplain... and the long bridge downstream “I didn’t realize I was so close to it!” he thought, angry that he wasted time detouring through the muck and forest only to get a scant hundred meters or so away from the main road “You selfish piece of shit!, why’d you decide to pamper your sorry ass and nap on the job?!. All you had to do was walk in a straight line and you couldn’t manage that?” Seth mentally cursed himself, grabbing his knife and quickly hoping off the little island into the now shallow water; sliding on a stone and spraining his ankle in the process.

“Damn it!” he hissed, climbing to his feet. Seth could only hope that no one heard the splash as he half limped- half waded through the frigid knee deep water, after reaching the floodplains’ bank and sending a prayer to whatever god was listening he then glanced back to the bridg-

He was there.

Looking similar to a frightened hare Seth froze, and like the reaper himself Kunzes watched him from atop the bridge; his hand held out with the fingers spread apart.

Except one.

“Two” Seth could almost hear his voice as he brought down another finger

“Three” Thought Seth, turning and fleeing faster than he’d have thought possible

“Four” He ran, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he fled into the woods

“Five” Too afraid to think, too afraid to look back, too afraid to breathe or think clearly

“Six” The reaper was after him now

“Seven” And there was no where to hide

“Eight” Only trees with no end in sight

“Nine” A dog grew closer

“Ten” It tackled him

Seth rolled over, it’s teeth tore into his arm and pinned him there; but he was lucky, with his free hand he plunged his knife into the creature’s neck and desperately tried to shove it away from him,

It worked.

The dog let go, but Seth’s minor victory was overshadowed by guilt as the animal let out an awful wheeze of a cough, trying to breathe through the knife embedded in it’s windpipe.

“Forgive me” thought Seth as he clambered to his feet and continued running.

For a few seconds he naively wondered if he escaped Kunzes, but then his thoughts were interrupted by a howl; the other wolfhound had caught up and was accompanied by the beat of hooves closing in on him. A bolas (one or more long cords with weights at each end) flew past his head and tangled itself in a tree just ahead of him, causing Seth to flinch away and catch a brief glimpse of Kunzes smiling as he twirled and threw another.

It hit.

Seth let out a yelp as the second bolas snared his legs and tail, causing him to trip and fall onto the muddy ground “PLEASE!” he cried as Kunzes dismounted from his horse “I DIDN’T TAKE ANYTHING!, I-” Seth froze as he knelt beside him.

“Go ahead” said Kunzes, still smiling as he made eye contact with him “I know what you were going to say, and you know what I’m going to do, that’s what makes our relationship special, don’t you think?”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” half shouted- half sobbed Seth, curling into a fetal position and shielding his face “Just shut up... just-” he stopped, blood running cold as he felt the all too familiar sensation of a shackle being locked around his wrist

“Please... just kill me” said Seth in a voice barely louder than a whisper, barely struggling as Kunzes clicked the other shackle into place “I’d rather die...”

“Liar” replied Kunzes “You knew you couldn’t get away, yet you never had the guts to kill yourself, thankfully” Seth gasped as something pricked his thigh “You really are sweet aren’t you?, I saw the face you made after killing my dog; you felt bad, even if it was justified”

“...What did you... what did you do to me?” asked Seth quietly “Did you stab me?”

Kunzes’ smile turned to a smirk as he held up a now empty syringe, although the label was written in an Acturan language Seth didn’t recognize most of the words “Had someone get this for me a while back, takes a couple minutes to fully kick in but you’ll be sleeping well once it does”

Tossing aside the syringe he drew a knife and leaned close to Seth, who too afraid to act; did nothing as Kunzes began to cut and tug away his clothes “But you’re worth it though” he said, kissing him on the cheek softly “I’ll see you in a few hours, butcher”

“You promised...” sobbed Seth, weakly trying to push him away as the sedative began to cloud his ability to think “...you said you wouldn’t force me to...” he began to feel distant, as if the world itself was starting to melt away and fall asleep with him “...don’t call me that” was the last thing Seth said before drifting into unconsciousness.

...

...

...

Only a couple hours later the rain slowed to a light drizzle over the floodplain as Kunzes sat cross-legged beneath the fir trees, petting his living wolfhound while reading the diary he had fished out of Seth’s rucksack earlier.

“Nothing useful, it seems like he intentionally chose not to go into detail” thought Kunzes, rereading the most recent entries “...And I hadn’t realized how good of friends he was with that taxman... perhaps I could use this”

Skimming through the diary revealed a number of crude drawings of various plants and fungi, filling him with an odd sense of nostalgia “It’s been a while since you’ve been out here hasn’t it?” he said aloud, looking over to Seth who lay sprawled unconscious beside him, the dried blood from the bites he gave adding some dark red to the mess of scars across Seth’s body “I remember when we were kids you used to love hunting for mushrooms, and even though you told me not to I ate those red and white ones...” smiling at the memory he continued “Everything looked so huge and I couldn’t think straight for hours, I thought we had walked into some kind of nightmare world...”

Lying beside him Kunzes began to spoon with Seth, pulling his nude body closer to himself “But you lead me back home safe and sound, and I told you how much I was in love with you... and I meant it” he smelled Seth’s hair, breathing in his scent “You were so flustered, and you could have just left after that; but instead you chose to keep me company until it wore off, and I was so embarrassed...”

After a few more minutes spent gently stroking Seth he grew tempted to rape him again before riding to Xander’s, at least until he felt him start to shift “...Michael?...” mumbled Seth weakly “...Histuer tombu lal?...”

“That Enclaver concoction must be starting to wear off” thought Kunzes, disappointed he would need to hurry back to Xander’s. He briefly considered sticking Seth with another dose of the stuff but wasn’t willing to risk potentially killing him “We’ll play some more later, but for now I should focus on ripping up Toren’s place before the others beat me to it”

After taking off his coat and wrapping the sleeves around Seth’s shoulders as a makeshift cloak Kunzes lifted him up onto his horse, “He’s lighter than I remember” thought Kunzes, silently cursing Toren as he climbed on behind him “Kind of ironic that the old bastard’s cook was underfed; best not to starve the hand that feeds after all, it’s too bad he learned too late though”

From where they were now it would only take around an hour to get to Xander’s on horseback, an hour Kunzes spent finalizing his plans. Toren’s death may have complicated things somewhat but all the groundwork was set, he just needed to learn how it worked.

=========

“...How many?” asked Rowan, hoping he hadn’t heard Luthay correctly.

“Eighty-six at least” he replied “That’s how many bills of sale Seth found hidden away in the old bastard’s vault. All except his own and two others were from before Toren bought him as well.”

“And you said Toren never sold any of his slaves...” said Rowan quietly “What about the other two he bought?”

“Dead” said Luthay “Seth told me they were older women, a pair of sisters afflicted with an incurable disease, sold for less than a nice set of clothes” he struck a match and lit an old pipe as he spoke, the scent of the resin making the common room smell like burnt maple syrup “Seth wouldn’t say how the first died but somehow, through some sort of chicanery Toren actually cured the second... only to carve her up afterwards.”

“But why?...” asked Rowan softly, looking down into his tea “Why would he be that needlessly cruel?, wouldn’t it make more sense to sell her for more than he paid for instead?”

“It would if money was a concern” came Luthay’s reply, exhaling “... but his projects were funded by the count and his cronies, and he’d have rather kept the details of his work from spreading to potential competitors”

“Is that why Kunzes is after Seth?” asked Rowan “Because he wants to learn Toren’s secrets?”

For some time Luthay said nothing, unsure how to answer best as he poured himself some tea “...It’s complicated” he said at last “Kunzes and Seth have a lot of history, which I’d rather not share out of respect for my friend. But to answer your question: yes, he does want to claim whatever Toren’s cobbled together in that lair of his.”

“If Toren truly has made a panacea or some sort of miracle cure then it shouldn’t be kept hidden, even if the means used to discover it were appalling” Thought Rowan before saying “I’m not interested in keeping Toren’s secrets to myself. If he really wants them that badly why shouldn’t I just give them to him?”

“Because Seth considers that to be the worst possible outcome” replied Luthay “though I’ll admit he straight up refused to tell me why, and I can only speculate as to the reason it’d be such an awful decision.”

Rowan nodded, looking around the cluttered common room. It seemed that the government’s warehouse was full and the customs agency was simply cramming junk wherever it would fit, which included among other oddities several crates labeled in a language he had never seen alongside some unusual looking rifles and a metallic device that Rowan could only assume was some kind of instrument,

“I’m guessing you’re Minth as well judging by the tan fur. And the spotty face I suppose” said Rowan, taking a drink of the tea before continuing “that kid I mentioned earlier, Chet; told me that most of you were wiped out by the Jersen up north and some other people, “Enclavers” I think he said. Anything you can tell me about them?”

“Not much, you’d have better luck asking Seth or reading about it” replied Luthay before taking a deep draw of his pipe, exhaling as he glanced out a window towards the shredded walls separating the government building from the docks, the early morning light casting rays though the cannon holes “They did that, they’re Acturans from what I’ve seen, and I know they made most of the junk in here including this” he held up his pipe, watching the smoke drift upwards “They also reportedly live in isolated fortresses called Enclaves and tend to shoot or burn anyone that isn’t from there”

“I see” said Rowan, wondering why he had never heard of them “But where are they exactly?, on islands or something?. And why hasn’t the Liskian government done anything about it?, it seems like they’d be pissed that their trade routes are in shambles”

Luthay pointed to a map framed on the wall of the common room “See how everything east of Jursun’s colonies is written as “Uncharted Territory” despite their rush to gobble up every inch of land available?, that’s because the Enclavers live there; and like I said, they won’t hesitate to annihilate anyone who even thinks of trying to enter their lands without an invitation” he paused for a moment, pondering what to say next as he took a drink of his bitter tea “Now, there’s quite a few reasons as to why the governments done nothing: Too many wars on too many fronts, too much internal instability, too much debt to fund an overseas invasion... The fact that both Jursun and Liskia’s grip on this corner of the world is about as firm as a stick of butter doesn’t help either.”

Rowan nodded before yawning “That makes sense I guess. Sorry if I seem tired, I haven’t slept in nearly two days and I don’t think the teas helping” he stood and walked to the window, glad the storm seemed to be passing.. but something still bothered him “You seemed quite certain that he would catch Seth soon, but it’s been hours... what are the chances Kunzes lost track of him?”

Luthay was quiet for some time and although it may have been some trick of his sleep deprived brain Rowan got the feeling that, rather than contemplating what might have happened to Seth, he was instead contemplating how to say it. “...Even if he did lose Seth’s trail, he would find it again right after” said Luthay with a sigh “but it has been quite some time... I sent a couple lads out to keep an eye on Kunzes’ headquarters though, so at least we know he hasn’t been locked up in there”

“If only Seth had the head start he planned around, he’d have a chance” thought Luthay glumly “He must have been caught by now... but what’s taking so long?, is that bastard just taking his time or something?, leading Seth on just to crush his hope at the last minute?”

As Luthay dwelt on such thoughts Rowan began to take a closer look at the map, the frontier was a big place and the western nations only held part of the smaller, western half of Acturon. Looking south of the “Unseelie” or rouge Liskian claims revealed that even a few smaller countries had colonized the islands south of the mainland. “Audrea, Dunstradt, and even Abradal’s trying to swallow up the east as well it seems” thought Rowan.

Xander’s itself was a minor port alongside the coast of the great gulf dividing the two continents of East and West Acturon, and like Luthay had said almost everything to the east was blank save the coast and a couple of presumably Acturan settlements along it “So where are you from?, were you born here or in an Enclave?” asked Rowan, pacing around the room idly.

“Neither” replied Luthay plainly “I’m from an Outsider town, one you won’t find on any maps since a bunch of Seelie destroyed the place about...” he paused, thinking for a moment “-...thirty or so years ago, can’t remember the year though I was a teenager when it happened”

“Oh” said Rowan awkwardly “I’m sorry to hear that...”

“I told you not to pity me” said Luthay with a frown “and you’re an idiot if you think I’d blame you for shit that’s happened years before you were born” taking another draw of his pipe he added “And besides, that trash heap deserved to burn; place was made up of bigoted exiles, weirdos, and Enclave deserters mostly. It’s a miracle me, my parents, and my siblings weren’t strung up when they decided to move there”

“Well... I’m glad it doesn’t bother you” said Rowan, concerned “but why would they hang you?”

“Minth” he said dismissively “Like the kid told you earlier pretty much all the Enclavers and even other Outsiders want nothing to do with us, if we’re lucky they just shoo us away; and if not...” Luthay shrugged “What would you expect a bunch of bored and disgraced killers to do?”

“I see” said Rowan, remembering what he had been taught about old wars and the mercenary armies used centuries ago back west; and how undisciplined armies could cause as much if not more damage to their own people than the enemy “I’m guessing you lost your leg in the raid?”

“No, that came later. Although it’s not something I care to talk about” said Luthay as he saw Joey and another customs officer enter the room “Is he back yet?” he asked

“Seems so!” said Joey jovially, looking to Rowan he added “Are you ready to deal with the devil?, he’s at your new place so you’ll get to check it out at the same time”

“I’m close enough to ready” replied Rowan, hoping things would turn out well.

They wouldn’t likely.

=====[Chapter 5 - Cold Reunion Ver 2]=====

“Judith!, are you awake?” asked Seth, opening the door to her room “Eden says you need more liquids, so I made you some broth”

“...I don’t want any” groaned Judith from under a pile of blankets, sitting up slowly “I ate plenty earlier...”

“Well the doctor said you need more” said Seth firmly “And I know you’re lying, you slept all day yesterday and it’s morning”

“...it’s morning?” she mumbled, pulling back the curtains beside her bed and squinting from the light “Damn it... I feel like an old hag” picking up a hand mirror from her nightstand “I look like one too” she added glumly, frowning at her frizzy mop of hair and tangled fur.

“Don’t worry, the doctor said you should feel better in a few days” said Seth, tail wagging behind him “And the talks between Kyle and the Enclavers are going well!, we might actually be able to join them!!”

“Ugh, that’s what I’m worried about...” said Judith who, despite her concerns and fatigue couldn’t help but smile at Seth’s enthusiasm “Heh, I wonder if they let women join their armies, I’ll miss lopping off heads if not”

“Yuck” said Seth, glancing at the cavalry sword beside her bed “We won’t have to worry about Humans if we join them, they have plenty of soldiers”

“It’s not Flayed-men they fight Seth, you know that” said Judith, immediately regretting it as she saw Seth’s expression turn to dread “Never mind that” she said before quickly changing subject “It’s your birthday next month isn’t it?, you’ll be turning...”

“Eleven!” said Seth smiling again “I’ll be... wait” he frowned, suddenly shivering “I’m twenty-three, how am I-

Seth awoke.

“J-Judith?” he mumbled, blinking away the sleepiness as he took in his surroundings; the dark and cold cellar of Toren’s manor instantly recognizable to him, it was his room after all- or so he liked to think. Toren had little use for the cellar aside from storage and as such Seth had been allowed to decorate it with the odd bits of scrap and minor artifacts he had scavenged from the old Acturan town below.

“Judith... why am I remembering her now?...” Seth thought, suddenly realizing he was on his knees with his hands shackled and raised behind his back; forcing him to lean forward uncomfortably, unable to stand up with his ankles tied across each other as well.

“Master Toren?, where- what’s happening?...” Seth asked the darkness outside the weak light of an oil lamp left beside him “Have I done wrong?, I can’t-” suddenly the events of the last couple of days came back to him: the sabotage he planned, the Thaumaturgy he used, meeting a lost elf, running... “He caught me...” Seth whispered to himself, shivering from fear rather than cold now “D-Damn it, damn it all”

Struggling against his bonds quickly proved to be useless, he couldn’t even try and scratch a Sigil into something tied like this; somehow the knowledge that he physically couldn’t attempt Thaumaturgy was more terrifying than the danger it could pose had he been able to “I need to think, I can’t panic right now, too much is at stake for me to be stupid” thought Seth, taking a deep breath “He brought me here because he doesn’t know where Toren’s lab is; he’s probably looking for it right now since I was unconscious, and since the others will have heard of Toren’s death by now he doesn’t have much time”

Craning his head to the side let Seth see just outside a little window near the ceiling; it faced west, and he guessed it was morning judging by what little light shone through it “If I can resist whatever he does to me for a few days then the Count’s men will arrive and take me into custody” he thought “I’ll pretend to be grateful behind measure and fully dedicated to assisting them, if I play my cards right I should be able to slip into the lab and destroy everything I left before they realize their mistake”

“I just need to be strong” Seth whispered to himself, trying to calm himsell “It’s only a few days at most, I can withstand it, I have too”

It wasn’t long until Seth heard the door to the cellar open, and saw a familiar figure approaching him “It’s so good to see you again, and it’s been too long since we’ve gotten the chance to talk alone” said Kunzes with a smile, taking a long look over Seth’s body “Like I said earlier, but in reverse; you know what I’m going to ask, and I know that you won’t answer me”

Seth looked down and said nothing as Kunzes knelt beside him, he wanted to believe that it was by choice but knew it was only because he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the Jursen “So I’m going to ask you something else instead” he continued, putting his hand under Seth’s chin and gently raising it “Who is the best person to finish Toren’s project?”

At first Seth said nothing, he had expected mind games but something about this one bothered him uniquely; it made him briefly question Kunzes true motive, made that deeply buried and carelessly trusting corner of his mind feel hope for the first time in what felt like years.

It made him wonder if he could have the Michael he once knew back.

Seth snarled, infuriated at himself more so than at Kunzes; the fact that such maddeningly naive thoughts not only crossed his mind- but also tempted him, didn’t just anger Seth; it went further than that, filling him with a genuine sense of fear and mistrust towards himself.

“...No one” Seth said at last, feeling a sense of responsibility as he looked away from him “No one should discover what we learned; least of all you, Michael”

“You would really sacrifice countless Acturan lives... just to spite me?” asked Michael, who despite his best efforts to hide it was seething with anger alongside what Seth knew to be a twisted sense of betrayal “You... you’re a sensitive little bitch, not an idiot; you know that Toren’s ‘sponsors’ will feed the war machine with your kind if they get the chance. No matter how much you hate me we both know that them getting hold of his work is the absolute, worst case scenario for everyone...”

Michael stood up, fists clenched as he paced around Seth “And you fucking ran from all of it, all of this” Michael hissed “You’re a self-serving coward, do you just not care how many of your fellow Acturans you’re consigning to death?” he brought his leg back and threw a kick into the side of Seth’s abdomen “Or maybe you just enjoy it, Butcher”

“I consigned no-one” hissed Seth with an unusual intensity, looking him in the eye at last “I destroyed all of his equipment and records of what we created, none of you sick monsters will get what you want”

“If that were true you’d be an idiot after all” replied Michael flatly, the fury in his voice fading into disinterest as he brought his leg back again “...Since if that were the case then you’d have no reason to keep what’s left of the old man’s lab hidden from me” he added before feigning a kick to Seth’s face, smirking as the Acturan flinched away “And since it’s only been three days since Toren died, I’m guessing you only had time to melt down, burn or otherwise destroy the most important pieces of the work before running off, am I wrong?”

“...Fuck you” muttered Seth bitterly, hating that he ever cared about Michael.

“I already did” he said smugly, bringing his hand under Seth’s chin once more and tilting his head up to face him “You were sleeping like a kitten at the time, but you still sounded adorable” smiling as he moved his hand up to ruffle Seth’s hair “I even got you to finish, you little perv-

It took a moment for the pain in Michael’s hand to register as he looked down at Seth, who only crunched down harder as he tried to pull away.

“FUCK” shouted Michael, clumsily kneeing Seth in the throat and getting him to loosen his bite enough to let him yank it out “Damn it...” he seethed, standing there silently as he watched the blood flow down his fingers. Silent until he heard Seth let out something between a wheeze and a laugh at him.

“Now we match!” Seth laughed almost hysterically, flexing his damaged fingers with a mocking grin; droplets of Michael’s blood dripping from his maw as he added “We’ll have matching scars in hell love!, we’ll-

This time Michael’s kick did strike his face.

“Stupid fucking mongrel” he growled, kicking Seth yet again; this time in the stomach before kneeling and grabbing him by the throat just above his collar “I honestly don’t know how you thought anything leading up to this was a good idea” he hissed, beginning to strangle Seth “But I’m going to make your life a living hell after all of this”

“MIC-” Seth gagged, the grin on his face replaced with fear as he struggled against his bonds and the grip around his neck “Please...” he said almost inaudibly, Michael just squeezing tighter as Seth’s struggling grew weak and he felt some of the Acturan’s tears flow down onto his hands.

With his anger starting to fade Michael finally let go; feeling a pang of guilt as he watched Seth slump forward limply, his breathing interrupted by hoarse coughs as his semi-conscious body resumed its functions “He started it...” thought Michael as he looked at the bite wound, cursing himself right afterwards for thinking so childishly “...I never should have pushed him that hard”

Shaking slightly Michael reached into his satchel and laid his medical kit on the ground beside him, measuring a dose of sedative and injecting it into Seth’s shoulder before untying the dazed Acturan.

“It isn’t your fault, it never was” whispered Michael, trembling as he hugged Seth like a comfort blanket “I need this, I need to be your guide, why can’t you see it?”

...

“So... this is it I suppose” said Rowan as he looked up at the rotting manor before him “This is Toren’s legacy; kind of shoddy for a mansion if I’m being honest”

“Seth made it seem like Toren mainly bought it for the security” said Joey, gently kicking one of the dense, spore-speckled sloped walls of the ground level “Top floors might as well be made of paper, but this could probably deflect a few cannonballs at least. Not to mention the windows look oddly like gun-slits”

“Was St Xander’s built on an old fortress or something?” asked Rowan, walking up the steps and unlocking the door with the set of keys Luthay had given him “Seems like everything that isn’t bleached wood or fresh timber is the same depressing gray stone”

“First wave colonists made an outpost here from what I heard” said Louis, the other customs officer Luthay sent “Built this place as a bulwark against the natives”

“We all know that isn’t true, there’s old Acturan graffiti all over the place” said Joey, rolling their eyes “You’ve gone mad if you really believe that propaganda”

“Hey I didn’t say I believed it, just that I heard it” grumbled Louis as they stepped inside “Besides, the bones they found didn’t look human. Regardless of all that; yeah Xander’s is built on an old fort of some kind”

The entryway of Toren’s manor was rather innocuous all things considered; with a double stairway leading to the next floor and being lightly furnished for the most part, with the only out of place feature besides the gloominess being a few crates of seemingly mass-produced ceramic flasks.

Ignoring that and his better judgement Rowan brought his hands together and shouted- “KUNZES!, YOU HERE?!, SHOW YOURSELF!”

For a long moment they heard no response, until at last a familiar figure appeared near the top of the stairs, leaning heavily against the railing of the interior balcony and watching them “...You really couldn’t have come at a worse time” said Michael Kunzes with a grimace, seeming oddly distant “There’s nothing here for you, just head back to your father in Laumonix and sleep easy knowing you dodged a bullet”

“Is that a threat?” asked Rowan, reaching for his derringer. The fact that this man knew he was coming not long ago was unnerving enough, but the knowledge that he also knew where and who he lived with was even more so “You could be more forthright if so; I already have an idea of what you want, and I’m willing to negotiate”

“What, do you want a bribe?” scoffed Kunzes, an eye twitching as he glared at the two customs’ officers “Go back to your boss and tell him he’s stepped way out of line this time; I’m tired of subtlety, I won’t hesitate to-” he paused, grip tightening on the railing as he doubled over, beginning to cough and vomit.

“Damn it, why’d I...” mumbled Kunzes hazily, wiping his mouth before suddenly glaring at the three “...You think this is funny don’t you?” he hissed, standing straight and flashing a small blade between his fingers “I could just kill you, even high- even if you all shot me right now I bet I could slash all of your throats before bleeding out. I don’t need a toy gun to be stronger than you”

“D-Do you really want that though?” asked Rowan hastily, taken aback by Kunzes sudden shift in demeanor though feeling some slight relief now that the customs’ agents beside him had their guns ready as well “Surely you have bigger goals than risking death over this, don’t you?”

Kunzes said nothing for some time, slowly tapping his fingers against the railing as he weighed his options “...All I need, is Seth” he sighed at last, almost appearing as a different, older person as his shoulders slumped; the look he gave almost desperate as he added “He was mine long before being locked in this graveyard of a city; I treated him far, far better than Toren ever did if that’s your concern...”

“I... see” replied Rowan, tempted to pry further “And where is he now?”

“Upstairs... in Toren’s old bedroom” said Kunzes “He was... tired; I figured he should be allowed to sleep somewhere nicer than the cellar”

“Oh, that’s... nice of you” said Rowan uncertainly, unsure if he was lying and even more confused if he was telling the truth “Well, maybe we just got off on the wrong foot; would you consider coming back in about a week or so?, I’ve got some paperwork to take care of before I’m ready to sell him to you”

“...Alright” said Kunzes after some silence, slowing walking down the steps as he seemed to regain his composure, forcing a smile “I can afford to be patient, just a little longer” heading to the door before glancing at Joey and Louis “And I wasn’t lying when I said your boss stepped out of line, do me a favor and ask him what his master would think of his actions”

And with that he left, even more tired of subtlety.

...

Seth could see towers.

Spiraled monoliths of color were set before him, yet he couldn’t get closer.

Was he swimming?, no, there was no water.

He felt tied down, yet saw no surfaces.

And the towers were moving away- or dissolving?, he couldn’t tell.

Someone was screaming though, and it wasn’t until he felt someone touch him that he realized it was himself.

...

“At least it’s less mildew-y up here” said Joey, peering into one of many barren rooms “Another empty one over here, you guys found anything interesting?”

“Almost nothing besides ceramic and cobwebs” replied Rowan “Barely any furniture, and even less that isn’t covered in dust”

“How about you, Louis?” called Joey, receiving no response “...Louis?”

“...Yeah, I found the Acturan; he’s completely out of it though” Louis called back before striding towards them, syringe in hand “Kunzes must have stuck him with this, probably gave himself a dose too based on how he was acting”

“What do you mean?” asked Rowan glancing at the syringe confusedly “...And what’s that?, a bottle or something?”

“It’s called a syringe” he replied, squinting at the label written on it “It’s empty right now but they’re used to pump medicine into people; we actually caught someone-”

“So he’s down here?” interrupted Rowan, stepping past Louis and moving down the hall “Seth?”

Heading through the open door at the end of the hall lead into a rather dreary bedroom, with boarded up windows and only a dim oil lamp for lighting. “...Seth?” he repeated, seeing the Acturan on the ground beside the bed; slumped against the wall undressed and seemingly unconscious “Hey... are you alright?” he asked, unsure what to do as he knelt in front of Seth.

“I wouldn’t touch him if I were you” said Louis from behind him “It’s better for you to just let him sleep until-”

“What are you talking about?, look at him!; he looks like he’s been mauled” said Rowan concernedly, looking over the bruises and wounds across Seth’s body “We need to bring him to a doctor, or at least bandage him up or something... These bites look awful”

“-Until the medicine’s worn off” continued Louis, annoyed at being interrupted again “His wounds are scabbed over and manhandling him will just crack them open, you’re not a doctor and there’s no reason you can’t just wait for the poor bastard to wake up before dressing him now is there?”

“I... I guess not” sighed Rowan reluctantly, unhappy with the prospect of simply leaving him there yet also aware that Louis was probably right “Alright fine...” he added before standing, taking a final look at Seth before turning to face the customs officers “I’m just... going to poke around here for now, what about you two?”

“Me?, I’m gonna see if there’s anything worth reading around here” replied Joey before heading out of the room “I’ll be down in the lounge if you need me!”

“I think I’ll head down in a minute too” said Louis, glancing around the room before looking down at Seth “By the way, you aren’t actually considering selling him to Kunzes are you?”

“No, not in a million years” answered Rowan truthfully “But I didn’t think he’d respond well if I said that”

“Ah, that’s what I figured” said Louis, leaning against the wall “Hard to believe he’s supposed to be some kind of boogeyman isn’t it?, getting high and screwin’ people’s pets...” gesturing to Seth before continuing “Especially males, makes him sound more like a sick joke than a threat doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think him preying on women would make it better...” said Rowan uncomfortably before adding “But yeah... he doesn’t seem as intimidating as his reputation would imply”

“Right...” said Louis, seeming to think of something “Well I’ll be downstairs if you need me”

“Alright” said Rowan quietly as the officer left.

Now alone more or less Rowan began sifting through Toren’s more personal belongings: Finding little of interest besides a few letters congratulating his relatively minor contributions to the field of Thaumaturgy alongside half a dozen of the same ceramic flasks from downstairs.

“What’s with all of these?, pretty boring if it’s just a collection” wondered Rowan aloud, peering inside one of them before recoiling in disgust at what smelled like a sickening blend of dead fish and herbs “Ugh, must be for pickling chum or something... ugh”

After some more fruitless scrounging Rowan began to notice the room dim further as the lamp ran out of fuel. After having paused his search to trim the wick and refuel he noticed a worn and unnamed book set beside it; And out of curiosity decided to take a closer look.

What was written on the inside of the cover was more than enough to pique his interest “I am Seth, Fool of Fools, look upon my mistakes ye mighty and despair!” was clearly written in Liskian and directly across from it, past the remains of several torn out pages, was text written using an alphabet completely foreign to him.

“What is this?” Rowan asked himself, glancing at Seth who was still sound asleep. Skimming through the book revealed several sketches of different plants and mushrooms alongside more of what he correctly assumed to be an Acturan language. “Some sort of botanical guide?”

Further skimming eventually brought him to more text he could understand “Need to practice writing in Liskian more, master Toren says my handwriting has gotten sloppy” it read, followed by “He has been nicer to me lately” and a simple smiley face next to some scribbles of what appeared to be... bugs?.

Rowan paused, not only due to confusion or from realizing that he was reading through Seth’s diary but also due to what was written across the page immediately after-

-FUCK TOREN

-DAMN IT

-DAMN IT ALL

Stunned by the sudden shift Rowan turned the page back to make sure he hadn’t somehow managed to imagine up what was written before- and no, it was the same relatively positive words he had read, and despite his better judgment he continued reading.

...

“Yesterday, master Toren took away my clothes again”

“He became cross with me after I dirtied them while making him breakfast and forced me to disrobe afterwards”

“He knows how much I hate it”

“Later that day, after making lunch Toren threw the plate of food I made him onto the floor for getting bits of my fur in it, and then had me clean up the broken glass with my bare hands. I was afraid he would do something worse if I didn’t hurry and I ended up slicing my hands in the process”

“I hope the cuts don’t become infected”

“Later I very carefully made dinner, being sure not to touch the food directly after prepping and washing everything”

“I nervously waited for him to come downstairs, standing at the edge of the room whilst worrying that he would find something to punish me for as he tasted the food. Until he abruptly stood up and strode towards me”

“I looked down and hugged myself expecting pain but he just... ruffled my hair almost affectionately”

“’You’re such a good boy Seth’ he said, I was too surprised to respond as he gently took my hand, taking care not to squeeze on the freshly scabbed over wounds from earlier, and led me to the table”

“’You really are a fine chef when you try’ Toren continued, gesturing for me to sit and eat the food I prepared ‘In a kinder world I could see you serving any of the nobility, and they would surely give you more appreciation than any master you’ve served’”

“After that he said some other condescending praise I don’t care enough to write before heading to bed early”

“Just the other day I was hopeful that things were getting better, that he would simply let me work without anymore of these mind games. I hoped he would treat me as a normal servant”

“I’m an idiot”

“If I ever get around to killing myself, I’ll make sure to take him with me”

...

Rowan could only stare at that final sentence, it was like his internal monologue had frozen in addition to his body until he finally, slowly and with trembling hands, put the book back in it’s place.

Quietly he knelt beside Seth again, gently lifting one of his hands and looking into his palm, which was covered with several small scars.

Unsure what else to do Rowan put his own hand over Seth’s as if to comfort him, saying nothing and thinking over everything.

=====[Chapter 6 - Who We Are]=====

It was nearly evening when Seth began to stir.

“Why?...” he mumbled, blinking away the sleepiness as he took in his surroundings; noticing that someone had covered him with a blanket “Why do I... why does this keep happening?...”

Shakily he stood, the pain throughout his body making standing an unpleasant experience. “...Toren’s room?” he asked himself tiredly; glancing around the familiar interior “Why did he...” pausing as he noticed a set of clothes folded neatly on the bed beside him, alongside a plate of food and his journal. “Damn it Michael...” he thought bitterly, walking towards the mirror and washbasin set on one side of the room, grimacing as he realized Michael had given him a black eye “You’re only giving me clothes to make yourself feel better”

After washing his face and wiping the worst of the grime off his body Seth began to slip into the clothes left for him: reluctantly poking at the food while thinking over what had happened “Twice... he drugged and raped me twice and thinks this is an apology” Seth thought, feeling some amusement at the absurdity of it despite his anger.

After eating Seth thought about what to do next: destroying the last pieces of Toren’s work would make the most sense, but that would take time he lacked, and he wouldn’t be able to fully hide the entrance behind him. He already failed to deceive Michael once, and knew that trying a second time would be folly. “Master kept a gun up here...” thought Seth, kneeling to look under the bed and finding nothing “I wouldn’t need to shoot him necessarily, I could just...” he sighed, quickly discarding the idea of trying to threaten Michael into leaving “No, I can’t let sentiment hold me back this time...”

It didn’t take much longer for him to find it: a quaint musket and cartridge box tucked into the back corner of Toren’s wardrobe. With trembling hands he knelt down and set the weapon on his lap, tearing open one of the paper cartridges before clumsily ramming it down the barrel of the gun, cocking it and bracing the weapon against his shoulder whilst pointing it towards the door “As soon as it opens, I just have to pull the trigger- that’s all” Seth whispered to himself.

After what felt like hours of waiting Seth heard it: the sound of someone turning the doorknob caused him to pull the trigger; his heart skipping a beat as he saw the hammer fly forward and-

-do nothing.

*click*

*click*

*click*

“Why..?” Seth whimpered as one of the last people he expected to see stepped inside.

“Seth?” asked Joey, just as surprised to see the fellow pointing a gun at them “How long have you?...”

“F-Forgive me!” cried Seth, dropping the musket and scrambling away “I-I thought you were someone else!, I didn’t intend to shoot anyone!, I-I was just going to-” he paused, freezing as the Seelie knelt to pick up the old gun.

“It’s okay” said Joey, looking over the weapon “It isn’t even loaded, so no harm done”

“...What?” asked Seth “It... it isn’t?...”

“There’s no primer or flint” said Joey, putting the weapon aside before looking back at Seth “Name’s Joey, we spoke a few times down by the Custom’s Office- remember?”

“We did?...” asked Seth, thinking for a moment “You’re Luthay’s friend right?, y-you’ve grown out your hair since last I saw you” he added before shaking his head “But why are you here?”

“Well our dear Lulu’s been looking out for you, he sent me and Louis to escort your new master over here and help keep an eye on things” said Joey, peeking through the gaps in the boarded up windows “Oh, and don’t worry; this guy’s way nicer than Kunzes”

“...New master?, I... didn’t think it would be this soon” said Seth uncertainly, hugging himself “You mean Toren’s assets have been claimed already?”

“Yep, he’s actually the same elf that you met earlier” said Joey, giving a reassuring smile “He’s an abolitionist in the making, and best of all he’s got no ties with the Unseelie or other factions”

“The Seelie I met earlier?... Rowan?” asked Seth bewildered, unsure if he had misunderstood something “Toren told me he had no family left...”

“Well either he was wrong or Rowan’s a master of forgery” replied Joey with a shrug “That’s not even the weirdest part: it seems he got the message a couple weeks before Toren died”

At first Seth said nothing, fists clenched as the puzzle pieces began to fit in his head “I... need to speak with Rowan alone” said Seth, voice cracking slightly as dread began to creep into his voice “Please, I-I know you can’t trust me after running away and nearly shooting-”

“It’s fine really, go ahead” Joey interrupted, waving their hand dismissively “He’s up on the roofwalk right now, been waiting for you to wake up”

“I... alright” said Seth, feeling little relief “Thank you”

...

“I’m definitely selling this place” thought Rowan as he looked out over the city “Even if it weren’t for everything I’m getting into, I still couldn’t see myself living here”

Though he could see well over most of the other buildings in Xander’s he couldn’t help but feel boxed in: with many of the trees outside the city walls being taller than anything built within them, leaving the only clear view out of the city facing east towards the ocean.

“I wonder if all their cities are built like this” wondered Rowan, taking care not to lean too hard against the decrepit railing in front of him “All the apartments and workshops are too close together; living down there would drive most people mad if it were fully inhabited”

Soon after he finished that thought Rowan could hear the sound of someone opening the trapdoor behind him, turning to see Seth pause his climb up “I didn’t expect to see you up so soon” said Rowan, offering a hand “...Though to be fair, you probably weren’t expecting to see me again either”

“I really wasn’t” answered Seth softly, uncertainty clear in his voice as he reluctantly took the Elf’s hand “I- forgive me, I’m finding all of this hard to process”

“Glad I’m not the only one” said Rowan with a small smile “Hard to believe it’s only been half a day since we met huh?”

“It... really is hard to believe” said Seth quietly, standing warily in front of him “Are you angry with me master?, please-”

“Don’t call me that” interrupted Rowan more sharply than he intended, feeling guilty as Seth broke eye contact and took a step back “I’m not mad at you; just don’t ever call me that again, please”

“I... yes sir-

“Please just use my name, it’s Rowan if you’ve forgotten” said Rowan exasperatedly, putting a hand on Seth’s shoulder; much to the latter’s discomfort “I’m not going to harm you; I only want to help, okay?”

Seth said nothing for some time, weighing his options before speaking “...I’m not sure I understand” he said at last, gently brushing Rowan’s hand aside “What do you mean by helping me?, my injuries?... freeing me?”

“Both, whatever you need help with really” replied Rowan, noticing Seth’s uncertainty he added “Is there anything I can do to make you trust me?” immediately regretting his choice of words as Seth’s look of uncertainty turned to suspicion “Right... I wouldn’t be very reassured if I were you”

Taking a few steps back Rowan knelt to sit cross-legged in front of Seth, gesturing for him to do the same “We’ve got a fair amount to catch up on; how about I start from right after we passed each other earlier?”

“Alright...” said Seth, still unsure of the Elf’s intentions as he sat opposite to him “That would be fine... Rowan”

...

...

...

“Rough night?”

Michael glared at the Acturan, curious as to how hard he could beat his dumb face without killing him “Don’t start on me Esko, I’m not in the mood” he said, taking a fistful of useless notes he’d taken from the manor out of a coat pocket and handing them over “Copy these in something I can read; now. Then come up to my room afterwards”

“As you wish” replied Esko, smugly adding as Michael walked away from him “More romance this time?”

At first he said nothing, stopping to turn and stare daggers at the insolent creature before speaking “Is this your way of saying that you want to go back to the sulfur mine?” asked Michael coldly “I told you not to start shit”

“Aw, it was an honest question” said Esko with mock sadness “Considering you told me to paint myself to look more like-

Several loud thuds could be heard by everyone in the neighboring rooms, frequently followed by pained cries that slowly grew weaker.

Michael had decided to sate his curiosity.

...

It was hard for him to relax without something to indulge in.

The medicine he’d injected earlier had worn off for the most part; he could function without it of course, but it was hard without something to focus on besides his thoughts.

“Stop, observe, follow, stop again” thought Michael, looking out of a window at the dark trees leering over the walls of the city “They’ve been doing that as well haven’t they?, waiting to reclaim what’s owed”

His musings were interrupted by a couple of soft knocks on his bedroom door “Enter” he said dismissively, activating an oil lamp set into the wall; casting a soft amber across the room’s interior “And stay”

Slowly Esko opened the door, the eye that wasn’t bandaged downcast “I’ve finished translating the notes...” he said quietly, a small stack of papers in his hands “There isn’t much to talk about; there’s quite a few different topics they cover, but it’s almost entirely made up of things I’ve already copied...”

“You said ‘almost’ entirely” said Michael, crossing his arms as he looked over the Acturan “What’s different about this one?”

“This one?- oh, these are...” Esko started, looking away “I... misspoke; there isn’t anything substantially different, I-I’m sorry”

“Whatever, put it on my desk and lie down” ordered Michael, locking the door before turning to watch him undress “You’ve colored yourself like I asked” he added plainly, brushing a hand over the speckles on Esko’s face “It’s a shame you’re only half Minth, the other half being... Bersan?”

“Bersanese... sir” said Esko softly, having to make a conscious effort not to recoil at his touch “My father was Minth, I-I didn’t know him well”

“So it was your mother who gave you that stupid name?...” said Michael more as a statement than a question as he also began to strip “I’d have probably preferred your father regardless”

Esko said nothing, laying on his side and trying his best to think about happier things than the present as he felt Michael begin to spoon with him, whispering in his ear “Do you ever enjoy it, love?”

“No” replied Esko quietly.

“Then that makes two of us”

...

...

...

“Please... don’t play with my emotions” said Seth, having a hard time accepting what he just heard “...Why do you want to help me?”

“Because you’re suffering” said Rowan softly, moving closer to him “Do I need a reason to have empathy?”

“No... I guess not” sighed Seth, giving him a weak smile “I just can’t figure out if I’m the luckiest fool in the world, or if you’re lying; and I’m the stupidest”

“Well, if ignorance really is bliss you should be happy either way” said Rowan with a grin, slowly frowning as he realized how his words could be taken “Sorry, I didn’t mean-

“Haha, no I get it” interrupted Seth with a smirk, tail thumping behind him “Though if that is the case then we’ll both be happy”

“Fair enough” replied Rowan with a laugh, looking out east towards the moon rising over the ocean “So where are you from?, Luthay said he lived east across the pond originally; did you come from a similar place?”

“Me?, no I... I’d rather not think about it” said Seth, his smile fading for a moment “...So you said that you’re from Laumonix right?, what is it like over there?”

“Oh, it’s okay I guess” said Rowan, resisting the temptation to pry further into Seth’s history “Island, some cliffs, warmer than here but not as hot as Abradal”

“...Abradal?. Oh!, I saw a map of that once” said Seth, trying to remember details “Everything was named strangely,.. It’s across the ocean, southwest of Acturon right?”

“Yeah, it’s closer than Liskia but that’s not saying much” said Rowan “The colony on Laumonix is right off the coast by contrast, only takes a couple hours to get ferried over” looking west at the trees he added “Odd to think there’s another coast just a few dozen miles that way huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose” said Seth, frowning “I thought about running west to Lempan originally, but I heard they have a shoot-on-sight policy for all Acturans”

“That... are you sure?, they were a bit rude when I passed through but...” said Rowan uncomfortably “Wouldn’t it be more pragmatic to arrest and sell off any they come across?...”

“It would be if they were interested in slave holding” answered Seth with a sigh “But they profit off artisans mostly; they have little use for manual labor and would rather kill any of us they come across than go through the trouble of detaining runaways” glancing away he added “As if their xenophobia wasn’t bad enough... that’s probably why you never met an Acturan despite living so close”

For a while they were both silent, Rowan wasn’t sure what to say while Seth didn’t want to say anymore; leaving each of the two to their own thoughts as they found themselves watching the moon rise through the clouds, with only the sound of the breeze to break up the silence.

Eventually, Rowan could hear his new friend let out a soft hiss; turning to see what was the matter he saw the Acturan unwrapping the crude dressing covering his burned and bloodied hand “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, only now seeing how bad the damage looked “What happened?, do you know any doctors around here?”

“I’ll... be fine” replied Seth with a pained expression, stretching his fingers “I can still move them... even if I shouldn’t be... can still do this though-” he added, flexing his middle-finger with a forced smile “I’ve been through worse; hell, I’ve been shot twice and I was fine”

“That isn’t very reassuring...’ said Rowan, standing up “There should be clean water and something better to wrap it in back inside, and it’s getting late too; you should probably sleep more after everything you’ve been through”

“I’ve been sleeping almost all day” muttered Seth, standing up as well before squinting at the burn marks running up his forearm “But it would be a good idea to clean and dress this properly” after lifting the hatch to climb back inside he paused to look up at Rowan, giving him a genuine smile before adding “Thank you, I-I really don’t deserve such kindness”

“It’s what any decent person would do, you don’t need to thank me” said Rowan, enjoying the gratitude regardless “You’re welcome though”

While Seth went to clean his wounds Rowan took a moment to speak with the custom’s agents, finding the pair downstairs playing cards “You’re back” said Louis with a yawn “I think we’ll be heading out now, one of the others dropped by and said Kunzes’s followers don’t seem to be planning anything; we’ll still be keeping an eye on them of course, but our job here’s been done for a while now”

“Yeah, he’s right; although if Luthay had his way we’d probably turn this place into a fortress” said Joey, standing and stretching “As fun as that would be he knows that the commander will already disapprove of his personal interest in this mess”

“But isn’t there anything else you can do?” asked Rowan “He threatened to kill us earlier!”

“He claimed that he could” said Louis dismissively “He was just posturing, it’d be stupid for him to try anything right after making such a scene”

“But still...” started Rowan, sighing “...Never mind, you’re probably right; I did offer to negotiate later on, and as far as he knows I’ve got no dog in this fight”

“Just keep your doors locked and a weapon at the ready” suggested Joey as the two of them headed for the door “Oh, and it wouldn’t hurt to keep close to Seth; strength in numbers and all that”

“Yeah... I’ll consider that” thought Rowan as the two custom’s agents left. Now alone he laid down on the old sofa, beginning to consider his plan moving forward “I still don’t know where and what Toren’s creation is... And if I ask Seth, what are the chances he’ll trust me enough to say?; considering how important this is to him, the question itself could ruin whatever faith he has in me”

It wasn’t long before Seth came down as well, Rowan could see that in addition to wrapping his forearm in fresh bandages he also took a moment to brush his hair; looking much neater than before “Sorry if it took me a while” said Seth, pausing in front of the chair opposite to him “...May I sit here?”

“What?... I mean- sure?” said Rowan confusedly “Why would I stop you?”

“...Never mind that” said Seth, taking a seat “So... do you like it here so far?”

“Well, the sofa’s comfy” replied Rowan, looking at the ceiling “The decor is a bit odd though, did Toren collect ceramics or something?; I mean there’s crates of the stuff...”

“Oh... the flasks?” asked Seth, a hint of apprehension in his voice “It’s porcelain made with bone ash; master Toren believed it could be used for Thaumaturgy...” he trailed off, looking away “Want to guess where the bones came from?”

Rowan grimaced, hoping this was just the buildup to a sick joke.

Seth let out an uncomfortable laugh, feeling as if he had a lump in his throat “I got off luckier than the others; didn’t I?”

...

=====[Chapter 7 Ver 1 - My Sins]=====

“Can you read this?”

Seth could a new voice enter the holding cells, an older man from the sound of it; though he didn’t care, he was too numb; why was he here?.

“No sir, I can read Jursen though”

“How about you?”

“I... no, sir”

It wouldn’t be long until the newcomer came to his cell; hopefully he wouldn’t stay long.

“*Sigh* ...Can you read either of these?”

Silence.

“That one can’t speak, can barely stand, not even sure she can hear us” came the voice of the overseer “I’ll save you some time; ignore her and the rest in her cell, they’re all illiterate”

“Can any of you read this language?” asked the old man.

Seth could hear a faint handful of ‘No’s from the cell nearest to him.

“How about... why are they by themselves?”

“The speck-faced ones don’t get along well with the rest” answered the overseer “A couple beat the shit out of ‘em about a week ago, and they just sat there and took it; moved ‘em here to make sure they don’t kill each other”

“Interesting... can you read this?” asked the old man from outside his cell, Seth couldn’t find a reason to respond though; and said nothing “...Hello?”

“HEY!” shouted the overseer loud enough to make them both flinch “Here, now; or I’ll stick you back with the others”

Seth said nothing, freezing for a moment before reluctantly standing and approaching the bars; eyes downcast.

“Now... can you read this?” asked the old man a second time, handing him a note through the bars.

At first Seth just stared at it; a wave of dark nostalgia running through him, feeling his mind grow fuzzy all of a sudden “...This is Jaggan’s Sign” he said quietly, pointing at the large symbol at the center of the page “The text beneath it says ‘Morlland will die’ in Minth”

“Good, good” said the old man- an oddly familiar looking Seelie “How about this?”

Seth cocked his head slightly as the man produced a corroded metal plate and offered it to him “My Kartish isn’t very good but... I believe it reads: ‘Krotilla Foundries Type:012 drill No.114’” why was he here again?.

“Very impressive Seth” said the old man kindly, Seth felt nice... when was the last time Toren complimented him?; it didn’t matter right now.

This time Toren revealed an old looking medicine bottle filled with fluid “It’s laudanum, written in Morllish” he said before the old man could ask the question.

“You always were the proactive one, weren’t you?” asked Toren, reaching through the bars to ruffle his hair almost affectionately... Seth wanted more, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that he hated it worse than the numbness...

“Please stop” Seth mumbled before waking up.

...

There was work to be done.

Seth wanted to fall back asleep, his body aching after everything that had happened as he lay curled up in bed. He insisted to Rowan that he’d be more comfortable sleeping in his ‘room’ than in Toren’s old bed.

That wasn’t a complete lie; as despite the cold stone and dried blood from where Michael had beaten him it was still home. A dreary, lonely home steeped in suffering; but home nonetheless.

“Rowan should be asleep by now...” thought Seth, shivering as he reluctantly clambered out of bed “If he’s really been awake since we first met I should have enough time...”

Seth lit an oil lamp before quietly creeping back upstairs to the lounge, listening for any signs that Rowan may still be awake as he searched for a good bludgeon; settling on a shovel. “Loud... but he shouldn’t be able to hear it from Toren’s room” he thought, quickly heading towards the entrance to the lab “I’ll quit before sunrise just in case he’s an early-bird, and take care of anything left the day after”

After a brief moment fiddling the mechanisms Seth silently descended into the subterranean passage, nose scrunching from the smell of spilled chemicals before he even entered the laboratory “I forgot about that” he muttered, thinking back to how he threw several of Toren’s specimen jars and tinctures against the wall out of spite the night he fled; unable to suppress a smirk as he imagined the old bastard turning in his grave.

It wasn’t long before he came across the familiar sight of old, corroded mining equipment; pneumatic tubes, drills, and several metallic cylinders that once held unrefined oil and bitumen. Such antiques were rare outside of this sealed off tunnel system, as the Liskian colonists had long since discarded or recycled everything of value.

Continuing past said relics was the laboratory proper; which aside from the mess of broken glass Seth had created appeared rather normal- at a glance at least, anyone with experience in the fields of Thaumaturgy and medicine would tell you that the various apparatuses on display were whimsical at best, with most being so outlandishly dangerous in concept that it was hard to believe how well built they were.

In addition to Toren’s own creations were more mundane objects: books, scales, surgical implements, a powerful spyglass his master had referred to as a ‘microscope’... and more flasks.

“Why did I tell him what they were made of?” thought Seth regretfully, cringing as he remembered how their last conversation had ended on an awkward note; he worried that his forced laugh could have impacted how Rowan viewed him... Shaking his head Seth reminded himself of the task at hand, he couldn’t obsess over that now.

With a deep breath Seth approached the centerpiece he’d been subconsciously avoiding: a large, dark metal half-cylinder behind a row of what appeared to be six glass sarcophagi connected via several tubes, with metal coils lining the interiors- the final sarcophagus being an exception.

Seth paused to light a few more lamps before taking up his shovel, the extra light providing him some comfort despite also illuminating the collection of Acturan skulls lining the shelf beside the machine.

...

Rowan slept late that morning, reasonable considering how he’d been awake for two days straight.

“Seth should be awake by now...” thought Rowan, shivering as he reluctantly clambered out of bed “He never said what he wanted to do first... Too busy catching up I guess”

Rowan yawned as he opened Toren’s wardrobe, pleased to find that he wore more or less the same sized clothes. “Best to stick with something subtle if I head out, though probably safer to stay inside” he said to himself, slipping into a plain gray shirt and loose pants before moving to the door “...Safer still to leave this place entirely” he added, wondering how far Kunzes would pursue the both of them on foot; and whether or not the threat of Enclaver forces made taking a ship a worse option.

As he began to head down the hall and into the main room he noticed the smell of food having been made, and out of curiosity (coupled with hunger) he turned to the dining area to investigate; finding Seth tiredly leaning against the wall, seemingly lost in thought before he noticed Rowan’s approach; flinching, and for a moment briefly staring at the elf like his fight-or-flight response had been triggered.

“...Is something wrong?” asked Rowan, confused by Seth’s expression “You look tired... did you have trouble sleeping?”

“I- no... it’s nothing; the color just threw me off...” replied Seth with a sigh, forcing a smile as he gestured towards the table and more specifically a plate of food and some smaller dishes set next to it “I made you breakfast... do you like baked eggs?, Toren enjoyed my cooking, so it can’t be that bad!”

“Oh.. he did?” asked Rowan, thinking back to what he’d read before quickly adding “It smells quite nice... what is it?”

“Roast squab with vegetables alongside a few baked eggs and bread” answered Seth, tapping his fingers against the wall nervously “Sorry if it isn’t as good as you’re used to; Toren was a picky eater, and I have to make due with limited imports. I made tea as well, but I can get something else if you’d prefer”

“No no, tea’s fine; you really didn’t need to do any of this- but thank you” said Rowan, eyeing the roast bird; he liked pigeon well enough but was put off by the mushrooms beside it, reminding him of the sketches he’d seen in Seth’s journal the day before; and what he’d read “...Seth?”

“Is.. something wrong sir?”

Rowan frowned at that last word; figuring Seth must have added it out of habit “...Never mind” he said with a sigh, cutting a piece of squab and tasting it; finding it to be quite tender and surprisingly (though not unpleasantly) sweet “This is really good actually” he added, taking another bite; this time with some of the vegetables as well, savoring the taste of well caramelized onions “Hell, it’s probably the best pigeon I’ve had!”

“Ha.. really?” asked Seth, smiling awkwardly as his tail swished behind him. His erratic tapping having ceased for the time being “I’m glad you enjoy it si- Rowan, is... is there anything else I can do for you?”

“For me?, no, I’m fine” said Rowan, taking a sip of tea “What about you?, we caught up on things yesterday but you never said your plans going forward; is there anything ‘I’ can do for you?”

‘...Yeah, there is” said Seth after a moment, looking away uncertainly “It’s um... I know manual labor isn’t very fitting for a man of your station but...”

“...Is something wrong?, I don’t mind the idea of getting my hands dirty”

“I’d do it myself but...” Seth swallowed uncomfortably, looking over his injured hand “Could you help me dig a grave?”

...

This place was familiar, to one of them at least.

Seth led the way through the old Acturan town, the smooth-cut stone floor and relatively low ceiling combined with the decaying shells of what were clearly homes was strangely calming for him; though for Rowan it made his skin crawl.

The soft clattering coming from the sack he carried didn’t help.

Despite his discomfort Rowan found some joy seeing Seth relax in spite of the dreary task at hand, listening as he occasionally pointed out graffiti written in an Acturan language; telling him what it meant and explaining what didn’t translate well “Do you know what this means?” asked Seth, pointing to some carvings made into an old timber beam.

“Uh... the dimensions of it maybe?”

“Ha ha, no; someone just got bored and tried carving a house” answered Seth with a smirk “Some kid probably got a knife for their birthday and decided to try it out where no one would mind, they even smudged some peat or something into the cuts so it’d stick out more!”

For a while Rowan said nothing as they continued through the underworks; quiet except for the occasional skittering of some unseen creature or the soft squelch of mud and wet debris underfoot; if he listened closely he could hear distant shouting every once in a while, and although Rowan assumed it came from the surface the surrounding geometry made it difficult to be certain. “...Does anyone else come down here?” he asked after some time.

“I’ve met a few Rat-catchers here and there, we usually give each other a wide berth though” answered Seth, glancing over his shoulder at the Seelie “...Don’t worry about the racket upstairs; it’ll be over soon enough anyways”

Before he could ask what Seth meant a series of distant explosions could be heard; immediately followed by a series of crashes and bangs close enough to feel the reverberations “What’s happen-” Rowan started as another set of explosions could be heard, the crashes much closer this time; even causing a few chunks of rotted wood paneling to come loose “What was that?!” he exclaimed, instinctively ducking down “Are we having an earthquake?!”

Seth was quiet as the process repeated itself a third time, and then a fourth, before finally speaking “It’s a bombardment, it’s over now” he said simply, continuing on the path before stopping as he realized Rowan wasn’t following “...Is something wrong?, it was only cannonballs from the sound of it”

“Only cannonballs??” repeated Rowan, in disbelief at how calm Seth was “Aren’t we under attack?, you make it sound normal!”

“...It’s been happening for months now” replied Seth, genuinely confused as to why he was so bewildered “Luthay told you, didn’t he?; it didn’t sound like a chemical bombing this time so we should be fine”

“Chemical bombing?...” Rowan started before letting out an exasperated sigh; he’d learn whatever that meant later, at this point he just wanted out of these catacombs; a part of him wishing he hadn’t volunteered to help with this grisly task.

Wordlessly they continued, and while the shock of the bombardment didn’t take long to wear off Rowan couldn’t help but notice Seth seemed agitated; walking a decent distance ahead of him and seemingly avoiding eye contact whenever he checked to make sure the Seelie was still following him. “Why gray?” he could hear Seth mutter.

It didn’t take long for Rowan to start missing Seth’s previous demeanor; feeling uncomfortable but unsure what to say until they passed by a particularly large and erratically drawn symbol on an old door “...What does this mean?” he asked awkwardly, wishing to resume some kind of conversation “It looks kind of like a tall, rickety swing set”

Seth paused for a moment as he turned to look over the symbol, seeming almost lost in thought “That’s... Jaggan’s Sign” he said wistfully, a weak smile appearing on his face “Do you know where it- no... you wouldn’t know where it’s from; it’s from an old story”

“A story?”

“Yeah... it was never my favorite, but we still heard it a lot growing up” said Seth as he stood in front of it “Would you... like to hear the abridged version?”

“Of course!” said Rowan, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“Well... in ancient times, before the western nations or the rise of Morlland; there was a guardian spirit of the Minthan mountains and its people named Jaggan-Thorn” started Seth “For centuries she stood vigil over the region, defending our ancestors from other dark gods and keeping lesser entities in check, accepting gifts but never asking for the same sacrifice and worship other faiths demanded”

“That sounds quiet generous”

“...There was an issue with this however” he continued “In order to maintain her strength and heal her wounds Jaggan was forced to spend decades hibernating, entrusting a council of druids from across the Minthan with the task of awakening her in times of crisis; and guarding her tomb when there was peace”

“Alright...” said Rowan, unsure what a druid was or where these mountains were “So where does this thing come in?”

“Oh, sorry; I’ll get to the point” said Seth apologetically “Well basically this council grew into something of a cult, with a head priestess that Jaggan herself grew to love as an adoptive daughter” he stopped to take a breath before continuing “Unfortunately this priestess was among the first to be butchered when the Silominth first struck out to conquer our lands; they must have been at least somewhat aware of the importance of this woman as they mounted her corpse on a post facing the mountains to demoralize us”

“That’s rather barbaric...” thought Rowan.

“...When Jaggan was awoken and heard the news she wasted no time; rushing through the forests like a demon until she finally came upon the burned out border towns and the body of her beloved priestess. Gently, she set the body on the ground before glaring east; taking up her sword in one hand and the post in her other... less than a day later she returned to her council with the mutilated corpses of four Silominth kings hanging from the very same crossbeam now facing away from the mountains”

“...Fair enough”

“Having been demoralized from the loss of their leadership the Silominth began to retreat, and though still vengeful; Jaggan ordered her people to release the prisoners they’d taken and help the wounded that the Silominth had abandoned, teaching us to be humble and motherly; though ready to strike back with righteous anger fourfold when threatened”

“...So this is a drawing of a crucifix turned gallows” said Rowan quietly, somewhat disturbed by the revelation “I prefer my first guess honestly”

“Ha, that’s understandable; Toren reacted much the same” said Seth, grinning oddly; his mood having swung back to a more passionate, almost twitchy state “Sometimes I’ll scribble it on things; occasionally for luck, though usually I do it cause’ I’m bored”

“Um... yeah” said Rowan, shifting the sack of skulls from one shoulder to the other “Maybe you could tell me more while we’re walking?, I can’t imagine the place is much further...”

“...Place?, what do you- oh!, I almost forgot why we came down here; yeah it’s just a little further” replied Seth, turning and hurrying ahead excitedly “It isn’t much now but- well, just imagine how it used to look!”

“H-hey!, wait up!” called Rowan, nearly slipping on a slick stone as he scrambled after him “I don’t have a light!”

...

*KRACK!*

*KRA-KOW!*

Luthay frowned as the third volley rained down across Xander’s; most of his colleagues had long since gotten used to being shot at, though the half-dozen or so new recruits he’d been sent seemed close to breaking “WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!” cried one, a normally cocky whelp named Raymond “THEY’RE GOING TO HIT THE BUILDING!”

As if on cue a fourth wave of shots came upon the city, some close enough to shatter apart much of the crude palisade built atop the old stonework, Luthay could see a few of the logs collapse right outside the front windows; with the sound of a loud thud coming from further back and above the single storied Customs building implying that some of the timber likely fell on the roof as well.

“Settle down” he said flatly, listening for a moment before he stood and stretched, walking to the door; opening it and taking a look around “It’s over. The fact that Briar and the others haven’t fired back means the Enclavers have turned around already”

“You don’t know that!” exclaimed Raymond as he peeked out the doorway, spotting the massive stone cannonball that ripped through the palisade “Look at those rounds!, they’re at least a foot and a half wide!”

“Exactly; do you have any idea how long it’ll take to reload those guns?, they’re not stupid enough to drop anchor and let themselves be slowly picked apart” Luthay said irritably, approaching the bastion closest to them; built out of old stone like everything else reliable in the city, and looked out through a gun slit; spotting a telltale plume of steam in the distance moving away from them “See?, bastards didn’t even stick around long enough to survey the damage they dealt”

Hesitantly his subordinate joined him, peering through the slit at the distant ship “...Are they on fire?” he asked squinting at the unusual vessels on the horizon; they each had large paddle-wheels on the back, and from what he could make out from this distance four of the boats were oddly flat across the front deck aside from the silhouette of what he assumed to be siege guns “Why are they smoking?”

“That isn’t smoke; it’s steam, they use machinery to drive their ships” replied Luthay plainly as the sound of their own handful of cannons rang out from a bastion further down the wall, finally returning a pitiful volley against the fleeing Enclavers. With a grimace he glanced over back at the city, teeth grit as he began to head into town.

“Hey... where are you going?” asked Raymond, looking like a lost child as he watched him leave “What are our orders?...”

“Orders?- we’re not real soldiers; do what you want or make busywork” said Luthay quaintly “As for me I’m seeing if anyone’s dead or dying; damage control and all that”

“But what if they-”

“IF they come back- which is a big ‘if’ mind you; we wouldn’t be able to do anything other than annoy them” interrupted Luthay, glaring over his shoulder “So we can either hide behind the few good walls in this city: hugging our worthless artillery like a bunch of scared children, or we can head into the wreckage and see if we can actually help people”

Not waiting for a reply Luthay strode forth, silently cursing himself for forgetting his crutch as he walked down the street; consciously having to adjust his gait so as not to lose balance “Years later and I can’t even walk straight” he grumbled, slowly getting into a rhythm “Can’t jump, can’t kneel, can’t cut meat without feelin’ sick...”

From what he could tell the majority of the shots had landed near the center of town, with one of the later barrages hitting the fringes of the richer side of Xander’s; normally he’d be glad to see the upper crust get knocked down a peg, but the fact that Seth was potentially in the crash zone took away the small bit of pleasure he got from it.

Although the streets were emptier than usual (for obvious reasons) there were still a few oddballs out and about; some Kartish lapdog running errands despite the cannon fire, a hooded figure huffing turpentine before shouting every once in a while, and a familiar old Seelie dressed up as a soldier wandering about with a dull bayonet blade “Oh!, hello friend; have the ragpickers come up to fight this time?... this time” he asked excitedly, flicking the tip of the blade out towards the rough direction of the sea “And how’s my son doing?; did Joseph get to kill one?, I know he’s been wanting to!”

“Not this time Armand” said Luthay with a sigh “Joey’s slept through it; they work evenings”

“Oh... that’s unfortunate” said Armand oddly apologetically, awkwardly hanging the bayonet from his belt loop “Well, I’m certain he’ll prove himself when the time comes; until then, maybe you should let me reenlist-

“No no, that won’t be necessary” interrupted Luthay, shaking his head “We’re doing fine as is, the enemy’s just too afraid to fight us in the open; try and enjoy your retirement for now, alright?”

“...Fine ...fine”

“Thank you” said Luthay, relieved to get out of this soon to be one-sided conversation “...Take care of yourself” he added before heading on.

There was some good news to be found as luckily no one had died this time, Luthay did find that some people had been injured however; with some being harmed from falling debris and at least one person getting hit by fragments from a cannonball which broke apart upon impact, “Toren’s place wasn’t hit thankfully” he thought, seeing the rotting yet still standing manor up ahead “I might as well check and see how well they’re getting along”

Luthay frowned as he approached the stairs leading up the front porch, leaning heavily on the railing as he stepped up; cursing the steps for being yet another reminder of his lost limb before quickly rapping on the doors “...Nothing?, nobody home?” he muttered after some time, banging harder “Fucks sake Seth... you should know to stay home until things have settled down somewhat”

With a sigh Luthay turned away from the door, spotting an old rocking chair lying on its side dejectedly near the edge of the porch; tiredly he strode towards it, propping the chair back up and taking a seat before fishing a pipe out of his coat pocket; contemplating whether or not he was sore enough to have a smoke. Truthfully he hated opium, initially smoking it as a way to spite the smugglers the office had seized it from; though as time went on he found it did wonders blocking out the pain he felt in his joints and stump, eventually becoming a habitual smoker much to his dismay.

Holding the pipe with his teeth he carefully took a pea-sized pellet of opium resin out from a small pouch and stuck it with a needle, lighting a match with his off hand and bringing the skewered pellet over the small flame; slowly heating it before dipping the pellet into the bowl of his pipe and taking a deep draw, holding his breath for a moment before finally exhaling the sickly-sweet vapor.

“I’ll just do one more once this runs out” he thought, taking another draw from the pipe before wiping the used resin off the tip of the needle “Haven’t got much else to do til the pair gets back anyways”

Despite everything Luthay found it peaceful here, although he couldn’t tell if he really felt that way or if the opium fog was thinking for him; he did enjoy the quiet breeze though, that’d always be a welcome change from the stuffiness of the Custom’s office even if weren’t for the drug. “I wouldn’t mind retiring somewhere around here, wouldn’t need a mansion though; just a quiet little cabin to settle down, smoke, and die in” he mused “Of course, I’ll probably be infertile by then; couldn’t have kids even if I found a partner... Just another dead bloodline for the Minth”

Luthay flicked away his second pellet, unconsciously reaching for a third before stopping himself; frowning and putting the pipe away “Of course... this is all assuming Gustave keeps his word and doesn’t just take me behind the barn when I get too old” he thought; thinking back to his ‘handler’ “Then again, he might not have to if he keeps ignoring the separatists; I might just be a head on a pike by the time he finally shows up... I’ll have to let him know that the next letter I send could be the last”

It wasn’t long until Luthay’s thoughts were interrupted by a certain subordinate of his “Didn’t you forget something, dad?” asked Joey with a smirk, offering him the crutch he’d left back at the Custom’s office “I’m kinda surprised you got here without it”

“...Call me that again, and I’ll cut your face off and eat it” said Luthay flatly, reluctantly accepting the crutch before letting out a sigh “...Although I do appreciate the help” he added, genuine gratitude in his voice “Shouldn’t you be asleep though?, you were up for nearly a day straight”

“I’m fine; I took a nap when we were waiting for Seth to wake up” said Joey; casually admitting to sleeping on the job “Also, I like how despite threatening me for calling you ‘dad’ you turn around and act like one; I’m an adult you know”

“...Fuck off”

“Ha, anyways, is something going on?, why are you hanging out on Toren’s porch?” asked Joey, concern in their voice as they dragged a chair closer to him and sat down. “And without your crutch no less; I’m guessing you were in a hurry?”

“It’s nothing really, I was just surveying the damage from the last raid” said Luthay dismissively “Thought I’d stop by and see how Seth and Rowan are doing”

“Ah, so you were worried they had been hit?”

“...Yeah, that was part of it” admitted Luthay, reclining in his chair “But I also need to sit Seth down and have a talk with him. I’m hoping to get his full perspective on recent events, have him clear up some things like whether or not he really murdered Toren”

“I can’t really imagine him being a killer” said Joey “I mean, you heard what the provincials said right?, how his arm appeared to have been blown apart?...”

“And how the right half of his body was burned up?, yes; Seth told me himself” said Luthay “He told me that one of the old mans inventions backfired spectacularly, and he was lucky not to get caught in the blast”

“He was with him when it happened?”

“He was the *only* one with him when it happened” clarified Luthay “And Seth made it sound like it was the kind of routine testing that Toren’s been doing for decades. Not to mention I find it odd that he’d fuck up that hilariously mere days after Seth finished planning his escape...”

“Yikes, so he’s got a motive- a good motive I should add, but what means?”

“Well, it’s no surprise he’s learned a lot of wizard-shit under Toren’s ‘care’” he said “What are the chances he put those skills to use?, the fact that some people reported hearing an explosion on the north side of town the same night Seth fled is also suspicious, isn’t it?”

“Yeah that’s pretty weird” replied Joey, idly watching a spider build a web up in the rafters “So he’s got a clear motive, slightly less clear means; and as for opportunity, what if he managed to somehow sabotage Toren’s equipment?”

“That’s plausible” said Luthay, nodding “Of course this is all just speculation; I’m hoping he won’t lie when I ask about it though”

“He never came across as a liar to me”

“That’s because he’s good at it”

...

It was a garden; or something akin to one.

The subterranean courtyard may have seen better days, but it still maintained a somber sort of beauty of its own; with the spaced out grates in the ceiling allowing for both natural lighting and some welcome respite from the overbearing humidity of the tunnels they’d been wandering through. Beneath each grate was a raised garden bed reaching around waist height for Rowan, with drainage holes at the base feeding into a little canal carved in the floor which kept the chamber from flooding; and although the once well-kept planters were now overgrown with a variety of creeping plants he couldn’t help but appreciate them in an odd way, as if they were somehow more honest in their existence than their domesticated cousins.

“It’s pretty- isn’t it?” asked Seth, smiling gleefully “It’s around noon too; so the lighting is almost perfect!”

“Yeah... it’s actually quite nice down here” replied Rowan, watching as the Acturan approached the largest of the ancient planters near the center and clambered up onto it “And you said other people rarely come down here- any reason why?”

“Well, the main reason is that you have to go through the tunnels” said Seth, reaching down and offering him his good hand “Every once in a while some drunk or careless kid stumbles down one of the entrances and gets lost, they rarely die down here thankfully. Like I said earlier though, I’ve met a few rat-catchers here and there”

“I guess the scenery isn’t worth the hassle for most people” said Rowan, lifting the sack and shovel up onto the planter before taking his hand and stepping up himself “...Maybe that’s for the best; less people to disturb them” he added, gesturing loosely to the sack of skulls “Do you want me to dig separate graves or?...”

“You can bury the whole bag” said Seth softly, scratching behind his ear “...I’d rather not see inside it again if I’m being honest” he forced an awkward laugh, looking away uncomfortably “I should be used to this!, I boiled a few of them you know!... It’s just... it doesn’t feel right seeing them out of Toren’s lab, especially not in my happy place...”

“Hey, that’s understandable; it’d be stranger if you were used to it” said Rowan reassuringly, tentatively putting a hand on his shoulder “...Why don’t you tell me more about this place?; I’ve never seen an underground garden before”

Seth flinched as he felt Rowan touch him, smiling weakly before gently brushing his hand aside “...Yeah, this is the only one I’ve ever seen” he said, glancing up towards the grate above “Xander’s isn’t the only place with subterranean ruins though, I’ve been to a couple smaller ones before coming here”

“From up north I’m guessing?” asked Rowan, beginning to dig.

“Yep, my home town didn’t have any; though I did see a few when I... moved”

“You left your family?”

“I- I left no one!” said Seth incredulously, demeanor changing as if a switch had been flipped in his brain “Mama died when I was little, Dad died in the Rangers; when my Auntie passed I had nothing!”

“What?- sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” said Rowan confusedly, taken aback by his outburst “I didn’t intend to offend you”

“Just- shut up... please” said Seth in a tone sounding both angry and ashamed at the same time as he stepped away “I’m- forgive me, thank you for helping; just let me think for a moment, please”

“...Sure thing” said Rowan uncomfortably, he swore that he could hear Seth sniffling quietly; and although he was tempted to try and comfort him somehow he figured it would be best to give him some space for the moment.

Around half an hour of relative quiet later Rowan had dug out a shallow pit just deep enough to set the sack into “...Seth?” he asked, spotting the Acturan silently looking over the garden bed opposite of the one they’d chosen “It’s time”

Seth seemed lost in thought at first, saying nothing for some time before sighing “Please... just forget everything I said a while ago” said Seth tiredly, avoiding eye contact as he cautiously approached him; ears splayed back “I... I haven’t been grateful enough; I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really” said Rowan awkwardly, wishing to move past this “It’s not a big deal... I won’t bring any of this up again if don’t want me to” Rowan noticed his ears perk up slightly; prompting him to realize just how short the Acturan was, standing easily a half-foot shorter than him if excluding the ears “Anyways... is there anything you want to say before I bury them?”

“...I’m not sure, I didn’t think of anything beyond burying their skulls” said Seth softly, hugging himself as he spoke “It’s just... I don’t know what they would have wanted done with their remains, but throwing them in the trash feels too disrespectful; you know?”

Rowan nodded as he gently set the sack down in the grave “Yeah... even though I don’t care for religion, I still agree” he paused for a moment, thinking of something “...Plants do well on graves, don’t they?; we could plant some flowers or something later”

“That would be nice... but they’d quickly become overgrown, maybe that’s for the best though; letting nature reclaim what it’s owed” said Seth with a sigh, looking up at him “...If you’re tired I could finish filling it in; my hand doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday-

“No” interrupted Rowan “Please, just rest for now; you’ll reopen your wounds if you aren’t careful”

“I’ve been through worse...”

“That isn’t a good thing”

“But...”

“...”

“...Thank you”

Chapter 8 ver 4

Seth was amazed at how well it cut.

With surprising precision for a child his age Seth continued to carve the shape of a wide- downwards facing triangle into his father’s flesh. This one was right above his wrist, the last in a line of eight starting from his shoulder; his father seemed indifferent to the pain, simply humming a tune as the skin and fur was peeled. His other arm bore the same marks, most done by the druid who stood beside them; nodding approvingly as the Ranger’s son finished the scarification.

“You’re doing wonderfully Seth” said the druid, an older fellow by the name of Murry; with a slight frown he glanced over at the man receiving the scarification “You really don’t want anything for the pain Lochlin?”

“How many times do I need to say it- ‘Lucky’ is fine friend” said the Ranger dismissively “But no, I had a few drinks before coming in; not to mention I’ve felt worse”

“I could give you something to bite down on at least...”

“No need, I had Beatrix for that this morning...” he said, smirking wistfully.

Murry shot him a glare that could kill, gesturing at Seth who seemed to pay little attention to their chatter “Not in front of the boy” he said disapprovingly, though after a moment his expression softened “...Are the two of you doing it for ‘leisure’ or are you hoping for a child?”

“Both” said Lucky with an involuntary wince as Seth began cleaning the wound, silently wishing he’d taken the painkiller “...It’s scary how sharp that thing is; this part always hurts worse than the cutting” he looked at the ritual knife Seth had set aside: It’s blade was pitch-black and had a rather unusual shape to it, being triangular with a straight spine and wide base leading to a thin point; it had a curved style of grip commonly found on Acturan swords, with Jaggan’s sign carved into the grip “I heard you tell the tale plenty of times, but do you really believe it?”

“That Jaggan-Thorn gave the knives to us and that she made them from her own body?” asked Murry, picking up the blade and looking into it “Yes, I do believe it”

“...Isn’t that a little hard to believe?”

“You’ve seen me perform the rites, you’ve seen the wisps near the graveyard; and you’ve claimed to have seen all kinds of abominations while on campaign... with all of the dark forces at play lately what makes it hard to imagine that it’s true?”

“A bit of witchcraft is one thing, but the idea that your holding a piece of a god is plain nutty” said Lucky, glancing at Seth as he finished dressing the wound “What about you Seth?, you think it’s carved from one of Jaggan’s teeth?”

“Mmhmm” replied Seth with a slight smile “She made them to protect us from the other gods, it’s the same reason she made the wisps”

“Am I the only sane one here?” asked Lucky, returning his son’s smile while ruffling his hair “I guess a bit of madness is needed to become a druid, right Murry?”

“For many reasons, yes”

“In that case I’d better leave you crazies to it then” he said with a soft laugh before standing up and slipping into his jacket “I told Sawney that I’d teach him how to shoot better, oh; and thank the two of you for the new mark”

“No, thank you for bringing me those books you found out west” replied Murry.

“Um, thanks for letting me practice on you dad” quickly added Seth.

“That wasn’t practice, Seth”

“Oh, right”

...

...

...

The pair were silent as they returned to the surface, both glad to be out of the underground for the time being. By now it was well past afternoon and despite the earlier bombardment a surprising number of people were milling about; an unusual number wearing old military outfits “The government used to offer land to veterans as pension, though the plantations produce too much too cheaply for independent farmers to make a living” explained Seth quietly, picking up on Rowan’s confusion “...Even if people like Kunzes didn’t bully them into giving up their plots” he slowed his pace, skipping around a puddle that could best be described as looking diseased before pointing towards a number of tall chimneys towering above the other buildings “See those?, the factories beneath them have shut down since marine trade was cut off; oh, and it goes without saying that sailors have been out of luck as well”

“So that’s why half of the place is abandoned” said Rowan less as a question and more as a statement “But why is anyone here if that’s the case?”

Seth stopped for a moment, blinking a few times as he processed the human’s words “...You realize most people don’t have enough money to just up and leave everything, right?”

“Well- yeah but...”

“...But everyone who can already has” Seth finished, shaking his head. Regardless of how accurate it was Seth had often seen himself as one of the most naive people he knew, and in a roundabout way was a bit relieved to find his naivety was outmatched “Actually...” he started, realizing he was beginning to become lost in thought “There’s still a handful of petty nobles pretending to be kings around here; mostly those without a country house to retreat to”

“How lovely” said Rowan under his breath, frowning as he saw the beginning of an altercation some ways down the street. Seth silently gestured for Rowan to follow him along a side road past a row of damaged townhouses. Thinking back to the cannon-fire they heard back in the tunnels led him to assume that this area was an impact zone for at least one of the volleys “...So if Xander’s isn’t worth much strategically then why in the world do the Enclavers waste shots attacking it?”

“Training exercises if I had to guess, naval warfare is quite literally a foreign concept to most Acturans; the fact that Liskia doesn’t care enough to maintain a navy on this side of the peninsula also means that there’s little risk of reprisals” said Seth, looking up at the shredded roofing across the street “They could also be using the city as a testing ground, do you remember me mentioning chemical bombings back in the tunnels?”

“Yeah, my first thought was that it had something to do with toxins” answered Rowan “But I guess it could have something to do with the composition of the gunpowder itself”

Seth nodded “Your first thought was on the mark, the explosions we heard today came from ancient siege-cannons; but the Enclavers also have these little pneumatic mortars they use to launch jars of liquid chemicals over the walls, which turn into poisonous gas when exposed to air”

“Is it visible?, and if so what color is it?” asked Rowan, suddenly curious.

“I haven’t seen it personally, but I’ve heard it’s usually yellowish-green”

“Have you heard what it smells like by chance?”

“No” one of Seth’s ears flicked as he spoke, listening carefully for anything out of the ordinary as they walked “Why do you ask?”

“I studied chemistry back home”

“Really?” asked Seth skeptically.

“...It wasn’t my main focus in college unfortunately” admitted Rowan “But I still learned a lot”

“Huh... what was your primary focus again?”

“Law, economics, and all the crap associated with low-level politics” he said.

“I would have guessed gardening” teased Seth “But if names meant anything I guess I’d have to be an angler”

“Your name means fish?”

Seth giggled softly “No, but my last name translates to Lake-Puddle in your language”

“That seems a bit redundant” said Rowan with a slight smirk, he chose not to mention that he also found it quite endearing “Maybe you could teach me some more Minth later”

“Honestly, if you aren’t already a speaker I think learning Jursen would be more useful” said Seth, he could feel his guard dropping; and felt a subconscious urge to reprimand his own subconscious for opening up, though ultimately he decided to suppress the feeling “Or if you’re set on learning a native dialect I’d recommend Kartish”

“That isn’t -your- language though” said Rowan “I want to learn more about you”

“You say that but...”

“But what?”

“...I know you’ll just be disappointed”

...

Before long they made it back to Toren’s manor. As they passed through the gate Rowan noticed that part of the roof had an unsightly droop to it, and for a moment he wondered if it had been hit by the bombardment before realizing that it always looked that way “I’ll be lucky to make anything from selling this place...” he muttered before a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What took you so long?!” called Joey from across the yard “We’ve been waiting for hours!”

“Just over an hour” Luthay corrected, standing and stretching as they approached “Regardless of that...” he paused, looking over at Seth “...we need to talk”

“...About what?” asked Seth hesitantly, habitually tapping his fingers against his side.

Luthay frowned, shooting a glance at Rowan before speaking “You know what I’m talking about, Seth; we can talk alone if you’d prefer”

“I’m not sure what you...” Seth started, pausing as he saw Luthay’s brow furrow “I... I’m sorry” he was silent for a moment, trying to find an excuse that wasn’t there before sighing “No... I think it’s best if we’re all present; we’ll be able to hold each other accountable that way”

“As you wish” said Luthay, glancing back at Rowan “You’ve still got the keys?, good; I’d rather be away from prying eyes while we speak”

...

“Tea’s almost ready!” called Seth “Just... a few more minutes!...”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone delay things this blatantly” muttered Luthay, idly looking over both the mundane and odd objects lining the shelves of the lounge; his eyes eventually resting on one of many pale flasks “Honestly, I thought he was exaggerating way back when he told me the scale of Toren’s crockery collection”

“Did he... tell you what they’re made of?” asked Rowan uncertainly, remembering back to the conversation they had yesterday as his gaze also began to linger on the same flask.

“He did, though I can’t say I was too surprised” answered Luthay plainly “When I interrogated the potters he commissioned they said he was dead-set on overseering every detail of the process, worming his wiry fingers into the bone meal and such” he leaned back in the sofa; casually throwing (what was left of) one leg over the other “Whether or not his obsession was purely academic or an outlet for some depraved fetish is for you to decide. Though for me personally, I’ve decided to stop thinking about it”

“... I think I’ll do the same”

It wasn’t long until Seth entered the lounge, bearing the face of a prisoner walking to his execution as he carefully set a tea tray down on the coffee table. After a brief pause he took the seat furthest from the others; cautiously looking over each member of the odd company he found himself in before speaking “...How happy are you all with your lots in life?”

“Miserable and getting worse” said Luthay flatly, annoyed by what appeared to be another stall tactic “Though I would feel far less terrible if you got to the point”

“That was a relevant question” said Seth, teeth grating slightly “But more to the point: who or what would you all give for a better shot at life?”

“Nothing for something that vague”

“...Agreed” said Joey, casually pouring a cup of tea “You’re phrasing it like a devil-deal, so I’d pass”

“And you?” asked Seth, an uncharacteristically sharp tone in his voice as he made eye contact with Rowan for what felt like the first time “What would you give?”

“I.. well..” started Rowan, a bit surprised by Seth’s sudden change in demeanor “Sorry, I’m not sure how to answer that”

Seth was silent for some time, looking as if he were analyzing the Seelie as he unconsciously began tapping his fingers to a tune that didn’t quite exist “...How would you feel knowing you were meant to be given?”

“What?... what do you mean?”

“...I mean to be sacrificed” said Seth reluctantly “How would you feel knowing that you were meant to die?” he stopped his tapping for a moment to reach for a cup: pouring himself some tea and shakily taking a drink of the scalding hot liquid “Thaumaturgy is more pragmatic than most doctrines; it doesn’t consider immortals or demons relevant to it’s pursuits unless they’re being used as materials...” Seth put down the teacup and held his hands together in his lap, taking a breathe to try and ward away the looming dread he felt “...Toren spent his life trying to change that”

Luthay looked skeptical, though no one said anything as he motioned for Seth to continue.

“...He spent the first thirty years of his life out west in the Liskian heartland, and spent almost twenty traveling throughout the western hemisphere” said Seth, looking down and to the side away from them “From Dunstradt to Abradal, he spoke to witches, sages; theologians and scientists alike, they all revealed hints but never solutions to the problem. It wasn’t until he heard stories of the new world’s blasphemous natives that he found a lead”

“How flattering...”

“When Toren finally set foot on the coast of Acturon he was disappointed to find that the westernmost colonies preferred to exterminate our people rather than subjugate us. At first he settled for studying the ruins and artifacts left behind, but without a translator or guide there wasn’t much he could do...”

“And that’s why he moved to Xander’s and dragged you into this?” asked Joey.

“He moved here almost ten years before purchasing me” said Seth “We Minth are rare, and he needed a native of the Minthan since we’re among the few to hold onto the old traditions” he looked up and weakly gestured to the older Acturan “He tried speaking to Luthay, but...”

“My family moved east generations ago” explained Luthay with a frown “Neither me nor my parents ever learned the Minth language, only Kartish”

“...The fact that I was taught by a scholar and had experience with dark forces made me perfect” said Seth quietly, shame washing over him “I was at one of the lowest points in my life when he bought me, and I.. I was actually happy to learn Thaumaturgy, and to read from his personal library; he listened closely whenever I spoke about my past... he...” Seth clenched his fists before wincing from the pain in his hand, sighing softly “He reminded me of someone important to me, and by the time I accepted he was irredeemable; I was just as guilty”

Rowan bit his lip, on one hand he wanted to tell him he was innocent; though on the other hand he was still a bit shaken by how quickly Seth could flip between rage and self loathing. It reminded him of when they first crossed paths at that bridge, Seth had seemed so small and fragile; at the time a part of him had wondered if the Acturan was a lost child- and if he should have tried bringing him somewhere safe; but when Rowan apologized for disrespecting Toren’s death it was almost as if the innocence had been drained from Seth’s eyes, when he suddenly said in the most bitter tone he’d ever heard-

“No, don’t be, he deserved it”

Rowan could practically feel the loathing in his voice when Seth said it, and now he was mourning him; the same man who according to the journal entry Rowan had read yesterday, had exploited Seth’s trauma to psychologically punish him before suddenly praising his cooking skills of all things.

The same man he had killed in cold blood.

While Rowan could understand why and maybe even respect Seth for killing his master the fact that he could alternate between the two extremes made him uneasy, and briefly made him worry if Seth would-

“...So for clarity’s sake, did you kill him? asked Luthay almost too casually, shaking Rowan from his thoughts “You told me one of his machines malfunctioned originally, but even if that’s true I’m guessing you had something to do with it”

Seth was silent, it seemed like this was one of the questions he had been dreading if the brief look of fear he had was any indication. “...I’ll admit that if I had known how badly it would fail I would have been tempted to ignore it, but he wouldn’t even let me look at it; he-

“That isn’t what you said to me before you left” interrupted Luthay, looking annoyed “You were cathartic when you came over the day after; you said he ignored your warnings”

“I didn’t...” there was a hint of desperation beneath feigned sadness “You aren’t wrong, I was... relieved when he died; and he often ignored my warnings when-

“Seth, we might not be the closest; but I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re lying through your teeth” snapped Luthay, eyes narrowed “You haven’t even finished preambling and you’re already spinning a web of lies; if you’re lying already how are we going to be able to trust anything else you say?” he gestured to himself and the other two “Besides, do you really think any of us care if you burned him alive?”

The last part caught Rowan’s attention, that little discrepancy between the letter he received and how Toren actually died wouldn’t stop coming up; not to mention the fact Kunzes immediately knew who he was AND that he got the message despite the fact they’d never met until then. Once again Rowan had to consciously fight the urge to bombard Seth with questions, especially since the diminutive fellow looked more and more like a cornered animal each minute.

“I...” started Seth, feeling as if there was a lump in his throat “I just... I’m sorry, please forgive me” he bowed his head shamefully, unable to maintain eye contact “...I don’t want to be treated as a killer, I-I don’t want to believe that I enjoyed it; if they were alive my family would be ashamed of everything I’ve ever done”

“For God’s sake... stop apologizing” said Luthay, his expression softening slightly “Listen, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as snuffing the life out of some bastard who’d do the same to you; it’s only natural you’d feel elated afterwards”

“Lu’s killed people for far less” added Joey.

No one said anything for a while after that. Seth was grateful for the moment of silence as he took a sip of tea.

“...I must seem pathetic, huh?” mused Seth, looking up with a weak smile that left as soon as it appeared “I promise not to lie about what I’m about to say... where even were we?”

“You and Toren were studying Minth traditions, and you mentioned something about demons at the beginning” said Rowan, eyes scanning over the odd trinkets lining the shelves with renewed interest “You said something about a ‘problem’ as well”

“Right... that brings us to about a year ago give or take” said Seth, tail flicking slightly “Our research was going well, we had funding not only from the local nobility but also from a couple of the major trading companies back west; and with Mi- with Kunzes as the supplier we had no shortage of black market goods to work with”

“What kind of goods?”

“Oh, all kinds of things: religious artifacts, censored literature; Enclaver tools and materials, fresh corpses; chemicals-

“Corpses?” asked Rowan, unsure if he heard correctly “...Like livestock?”

“Um... usually people” said Seth uncomfortably “Mostly Humans and Acturans, but there was also a few... Mirveen?; they had feathers. Oh, and we had a single Abradali”

“Any idea where they came from?” asked Luthay with a grimace.

“I never asked Kunzes since, well... I was trying to keep as far away as possible” explained Seth “When I asked Toren he said they were the bodies of outlaws that had either been hanged by the authorities or killed by their fellow criminals for breaking oaths; I never knew if that was true or not”

He continued: “Anyways, things weren’t that bad until Toren started showing signs of Thaumaturgical sickness; which is a catchall term for the cumulative organ damage caused by excessive use of Thaumaturgy” explained Seth, starting to slowly tap his fingers “When he started coughing up bloody phlegm Toren started to... well, he was always eccentric, and often stern; but he just started to lose his grip entirely” Seth looked into his tea before having a drink of it “He stopped leaving the manor, his punishments become increasingly common... about every other month he’d come into the cellar by my bedside in the middle of the night and just.. he would hit and scream at me until his throat became too hoarse to speak. It was like seeing an evil version of Murry- of my old teacher coming back to haunt me”

“...Then he started using living people- he started using enslaved Acturans as test subjects a-and materials” Seth’s grip tightened as he fought to swallow the lump growing back in his throat “The first fellow... he was Kartish, about my age; I couldn’t believe how friendly he was to me... I didn’t know what Toren had planned, h-he said he just wanted another lab assistant; I didn’t- I didn’t know until I came back with groceries...” he took a deep breath, feeling sick as the smell and sounds of the memory felt as vivid as the imagery “Toren had injected him with a near lethal dose of sedative, put him in a machine we used for research; and began cutting him open... then he started cutting chunks of flesh from one of the fresher corpses and...” The nausea was clear on his face as he fought the urge to vomit, the sweet-yet-acrid scent of death becoming life was branded into his memory; the fact that the air itself was once thick enough with the odor to let him taste it didn’t help.

“W-What purpose would any of that serve?!” exclaimed Rowan, starting to feel sick himself as his mind wandered back to the skulls they had buried just a few hours earlier; and then to the crates of flasks throughout the house “H-How many did he?...”

“...You once told told me that he had eighty-three bills of sale dated from *before* he bought you” said Luthay grimly “...I’m guessing you were lying about the date to obfuscate things; but that number... I’m guessing that’s how many of our lot suffered a similar fate?”

“You’re right” said Seth quietly “Plus those two old sisters... I couldn’t lie about them because they were the only others Toren didn’t get from Kunzes, the records were more or less public for them”

“But- but why didn’t you tell anyone sooner?” asked Rowan, immediately regretting it.

“...Because I’m a terrible, terrible person!” cried Seth, ears splayed back as he looked down “I tried to save that poor boy, I tried- I tried beating Toren to death then and there with a fire-poker, but I couldn’t; even as an old man he was stronger than me” Seth hugged himself as he shrunk back in his chair “H-He nearly killed me- you and Joey saw my scars didn’t you?, Toren gave me half of those after what I did... and then he started letting Kunzes use me whenever I misbehaved”

“A-And he wasn’t doing anything illegal” continued Seth tears starting to well in his eyes “And even if he was who was I supposed to tell?!, the police?- Kunzes is sheriff here; the provincial guard?- they’re employed by the local nobility, the imperial army?- even if they believed some ragged mongrel’s accusations of witchcraft they’re all stationed down south” Seth’s looked at each of them almost pleadingly “...I-I tried to convince myself that the reason I obeyed him for so long was to get the most out of each of our victims, t-to minimize the number of live test subjects we’d need; but really I’m just a coward- a coward that ruins everything and everyone it touches...”

Rowan bit his lip as Seth demeaned himself, his first instinct was to move closer and try to comfort him; but by now he had learned that it just made him more uncomfortable.

“I... I don’t think you’re a bad person Seth” started Joey “You just said that you tried to minimize harm right?”

“Yes, but-”

“-What happened was inevitable” interrupted Joey “You’re smarter than me so you know it’s true”

“I- that doesn’t-”

“You tried killing him once but failed cause’ you’re too weak and noodly” they continued, earning an amused snort from Luthay “And even after being brutalized for it you worked above and beyond to slowly regain enough of his trust to finish the job, even though you knew failure meant being tortured and possibly raped to death. You did better than any of us would have in your shoes”

“...I don’t have shoes”

“It was a figure of...” Joey trailed off as Seth started to half-laugh and half-sob at their expense “...Fuck you”

“Quite a rude figure” he snickered, wiping his tears “Ugh, I needed that though; I’m sorry for the outburst”

“I told you to stop apologizing” muttered Luthay.

“Sorry” came Seth’s reply as Luthay rolled his eyes “But jokes asides... I’ve been skirting around the ‘why’ of things haven’t I?”

“You’ve been hinting at it, and we’ve all got our assumptions; but I think it’d be best if you said it outright”

“Outright... alright, I can do that” said Seth, sighing “...We found a way to trade the flesh and blood of loved ones for a taste of godhood”

None of the others spoke.

“We discovered techniques and made machinery for reshaping living tissue using the flesh of blood relatives, we had everything except those materials ready” he continued, meekly looking at Rowan “It’s funny... just yesterday- when Joey came to check on me, I learned that you received news of Toren’s death weeks before he died... and that by killing him I had accidentally saved your life”

“So that means... the letter of inheritance I received was just a lure?” asked Rowan, clasping his hands in thought “Kunzes... he knew my name back at the bridge, he’d been expecting me... were you-”

“No, I didn’t” said Seth quickly “I-I didn’t know he had any family left, I swear; in fact it’s part of the reason I killed him- since even before he started dying he considered having children just to harvest them for parts later”

“That’s sick”

“That’s the kind of person Toren was” he said, silent for a moment as he tapped the side of his teacup “...He made ceramic out of the people he killed, is it really that shocking he’d consider infanticide?”

“Of course it is!” said Rowan, taken aback by how matter-of-factly Seth spoke of such things “Even if mass murder is worse from a humanitarian standpoint it’s usually done by dissociating with the victims- but having a child just to profit off of them?, that’s a step beyond evil; it’s just not human”

“...That’s quite fitting actually” said Seth with a sigh “The point of the project wasn’t ‘just’ eternal life or mending wounds, it was also to surpass mortal limitations without having to put any real effort in; to become as powerful as demons or the old gods of the Minthan...” he paused, cocking his head slightly as he thought of something “...Would you like a demonstration?”

For a moment they all shared a look of incredulity; the same expression one might have after hearing their beloved childhood pet suddenly speak profanity. “This is a trick question, right?” asked Joey, cocking an eyebrow.

“Eh?, oh!; I meant Thaumaturgy... just watch” said Seth sheepishly, ears splayed back slightly as he put forth his undamaged hand and made a motion much like snapping in reverse; cutting open the tip of his finger and smearing the blood into a zigzag shape on the coffee table “Nothing too serious; just enough to...” he trailed off, taking a deep breath and focusing.

Suddenly, for a split second the blood seemed to bubble up before erupting in a violent burst of white sparks “Good god!” cried Rowan, noticing the explosion had left scorch marks on the table “How- why did you do that?!”

“Thaumaturgy” hissed Seth as he clutched his finger, the fur around the cut he made having been singed off “Imagine if any idiot ruthless and rich enough could do that and more on a larger scale- all without the pain, bloodletting; focusing, and stupid symbols!” he took another deep breath whilst trying to ignore the pain “Of course... you couldn’t do it too freely, as even after the transformation you’d need to rest and feed between castings. I guess one good thing is that after abandoning your mortality you wouldn’t specifically need the bodies of family members to sustain yourself... any member of any mortal race will work at that point”

“Right... so that’s where the issue lies” sighed Luthay, rubbing his temples “If it just further encouraged fratricide among the elite I doubt you’d have been so afraid to share it- hell, if that was it I’d make it public knowledge and laugh at the chaos!; but that last caveat just ruins everything, doesn’t it?; we’d be bred as feed for those pigs wouldn’t we?”

“...The Count and the rest of Toren’s sponsors already know the basics” said Seth quietly, holding his hands together “...Michael knows everything I just said, and more; though thankfully he doesn’t know everything” suddenly Seth looked up and laughed weakly “He should be on our side you know!, he hates those ‘pigs’ more than any of us; yet he’s just patient enough to hold onto his rage, to save it until he’s powerful enough to back it up!” he sniffled, tears welling up as he thought back on their last conversation “...you fucking ran from all of it, all of this" Michael had hissed, his words echoing in Seth’s mind "You're a self-serving coward, do you just not care how many of your fellow Acturans you're consigning to death?”...he felt the bruise where Michael had kicked him "Or maybe you just enjoy it, Butcher"

“...Seth?” asked Rowan uncertainly, the Acturan had been staring into space for some time now; appearing almost entirely lost in his own thoughts as he touched himself oddly “Are you alright?...”

Seth blinked a few times, turning to face the Seelie with what appeared to be genuine confusion for a brief moment before frowning “...Sorry” he said softly before glancing back at Luthay “That leads us to another problem; considering how invested the Count and the others were in the project there is a very real possibility of them recruiting other, less skilled Thaumaturges to carry on the work... potentially killing several times more people just to catch up to where we left off, especially if they don’t collaborate with each other”

“So even with the work destroyed and you hidden away somewhere, we’re still fucked” said Luthay glumly, leaning back in the sofa “Well, the situation isn’t that much worse than I expected all things considered; though it is a bit stranger. You mentioned something about Kunzes a moment ago though, said he was ‘saving up his rage’ or something?”

“Oh... it’s a complicated mess” said Seth, looking down into his tea “I said he hates the Count, Toren, all the rich and powerful really; he only works for the monsters to know when and how to backstab them”

“And they pay well” said Luthay skeptically “Even if he loathes the bastards, I find it hard to believe that he’d kiss ass this long just to get one over on them years later”

“I mean it literally... he wants to kill them all” said Seth, taking a drink of tea “It might sound odd but... I’ve known him longer than anyone, and I truly think- beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Michael believes he’s serving the greater good”

“So he’s delusional”

“No, he’s...” Seth stopped, biting his lip as he tried to find the right words to try and justify the actions of the man he hated most “...If a fire was alive and sought to destroy evil, it couldn’t do so without burning everything in it’s path right?... and even if the pain it brought greatly outweighed the good it did, that doesn’t mean it’s only bad...”

“Your analogy is stupid, and the point you’re trying to make is worse”

“I... fuck you” said Seth, sounding defeated “...You’re not wrong though”

“...I’ve heard enough, and moping around won’t do anyone any good” sighed Luthay, stretching as he stood and turned to Joey “I’m sending the commander one last letter; hopefully he’ll finally ferry over some real soldiers before we’re all dead” looking back at Seth made him pause for a moment, his tone softening as he added “I know you hate it, friend; but please stay inside. The two dozen of us at the office are barely able to keep Kunzes in line, let alone the Count’s boys when they start poking around...”

“I know” Seth replied quietly.

“And that goes for you too” said Luthay, looking at Rowan “Word travels fast, and I can guarantee you’ll wind up on their hitlist sooner than later; my advice would be to only leave when your food stores run out, and to bar your doors at night”

“What about water?” asked Rowan “I didn’t see a well outside; does this place have plumbing?”

“We have a bunch of rain barrels” said Seth “They should be full too”

“Alright then, you should be able to hold out long enough” said Luthay, checking his gun before heading for the door with Joey in tow “...Take care, friend”

“You too” replied Seth softly, sighing as they left.

For a while neither said anything, both of them lost in their own thoughts until at last Seth spoke “...Would it be fine if I... if I took a proper bath?” he asked uncomfortably “I know it would be best to conserve water but...”

“Go ahead- you don’t need my permission to do everything” said Rowan with a frown “Besides, you said we had several barrels worth; and it’ll probably rain more later”

“Oh... that’s true, thank you” he said, quickly getting up to leave the room; briefly glancing over his shoulder at the Seelie before hastily scampering off.

“...And now he’s too afraid to look at me” thought Rowan sadly, remembering how just earlier he had an almost childlike enthusiasm when they first went down into the tunnels; until he asked about his family at least “That was what set him off... it must have struck a nerve, especially considering how Seth said he had nothing left” Despite his curiosity Rowan made a mental note not to bring up the topic again, not wanting to ruin what was left of the little trust they had built.

That reminded him of his own family; he hadn’t told any of them that he dropped out of college to collect the inheritance of their dead grandparent’s-cousin or whatever Toren was. By now though, the couple of friends he made at college had most likely shared that information with them “Dad’s probably having a fit right now” he thought with a smirk; in truth he’d been looking for an opportunity to drop out, and Toren’s bizarre inheritance plot had just happened to come at the perfect time.

Even luckier was his timing, as if he had shown up just a few days earlier he’d likely have died by now “Honestly... I should be the one thanking Seth, not the other way around” thought Rowan, thinking back to what he’d said “Even if he didn’t intend to, he saved my life...”

Even though he didn’t care about Toren that last thought still made him uneasy, as despite the fact he could understand his reasoning; Seth had still openly admitted to planning and carrying out the murder of someone the Acturan had been close to, even if the relationship was terribly abusive; the killing itself was a cold-blooded decision rather than an emotional one.

“Maybe that’s better considering his outburst earlier...” Rowan pondered, taking a sip of the now cold tea Seth had made; to his surprise he found it quite palatable despite the change in temperature, it tasted a bit like mulch and dirt; but in a good way.

After a while his thoughts began drifting back to what Seth had said earlier; the idea that him and Toren somehow discovered a method of achieving immortality sounded absurd, bordering on insane; yet the number of rich and powerful figures invested in the project made him consider what would happen if it were real. He didn’t think Seth was lying to him about having found it (as he wouldn’t have anything to gain) though he had to wonder how much of their discovery was based on possibility rather than reality. “Whatever” he thought, resting his head on his hand “History is made up of idiots killing each other over false promises; the only difference now is that we’ve got better weapons to do it with”

...

Seth felt shame.

He was ashamed of his past mistakes, ashamed of his present filth, and couldn’t help but feel ashamed of the eventual dark future he’d helped create.

And when he looked in the mirror, he felt ashamed of his luck.

Maybe he inherited it from his father, maybe it was a malevolent force playing with his fate; or maybe it really was just dumb luck.

Either way, he didn’t deserve it.

Seth let out a quiet sob as he slumped down against the wall of the bathroom, the pale floor tiles felt frigid on his nude body; yet he made no move to stand or move closer to the fire he’d lit to heat up water, instead he just curled up with his knees against his chest “Damn it” he whispered, hands covering his face “Damn it all”

For one reason or another Seth felt the stress reach a tipping point after Luthay and Joey left; perhaps it was the fear that his friend would never see him the same way again, or the despair he felt knowing there was nothing he could do to fix things; but either way- he couldn’t force a smile or even deadpan stare any longer, he needed to cry.

“Why me?...” Seth sobbed, a familiar scene of death replaying in his mind “Why was I chosen not to die? why not anyone else?...”

For a moment, his self-loathing was disturbed by the sight of steam beginning to fill the room; it appeared the big pot of water he had been heating for his bath had reached boiling. Slowly he got up to deal with it, the feeling of warmth as he approached a welcome change from the cold floor he was laying on as he began to dump water into the tub “Shut up, just shut up” he thought to himself whilst refilling the pot “It’s... it’s like Luthay said... moping around won’t do anyone any good”

As the second batch of water heated Seth took a moment to look over himself again in the mirror; it was clear that he wasn’t nearly as filthy as he’d made it out to be- his sudden request for a bath was really just his way of dodging the inevitable (and uncomfortable) questions Rowan would undoubtedly ask following the things he’d said “He... he’s a part of this now, he deserves to know everything” sighed Seth, digging through the cupboards until he found a few useful tools “...There’s no reason I can’t make myself more presentable first though”

Carefully, he began trimming his claws with a short pair of shears he found; it certainly wasn’t an ideal tool, yet it worked well enough. Afterwards he set to filing down the now jagged edges, the tiny cuts left on his palms whenever he clenched his fists being a good motivator to smooth them well.

Once he was finished Seth started work combing himself, using the shears to cut out the handful of knots he couldn’t untangle before scrubbing his body with a wet washrag; grimacing as he went over the bite marks Michael had given him.

After a few more pots worth of water and some soap was added Seth finally lowered himself into the bath, gasping as the hot water enveloped him. He winced as the warmth met his wounded hand, making it feel as if it was burning again.

“I feel like a fish in a furnace...” he muttered, the ‘purifying’ feeling of the near-scalding water outweighing the discomfort he felt; as if the water was washing away the events of the last few days. The realization that the fur around his intimate areas were likely stained with Michael’s fluids still made him feel shameful though, even if he was clean.

Eventually the water cooled to a more comfortable temperature, allowing him to relax and focus on his own thoughts through a more rational lens; like the issue of his master- No, of Rowan’s trust in him; “I’ve made my motives clear, and even if my actions were terrible the fact that I admitted to them should account for something” still, he felt that it wasn’t enough; not to mention he was already subconsciously making assumptions about Rowan’s personality “We only met a couple days ago, I don’t know him well enough to plan around... I wouldn’t be surprised if he feels the same”

He cursed himself for his naivety, all it took was the most basic display of kindness for Seth to throw caution to the wind; casually dropping bits and pieces of information that the separatists would (and did) kill people over moments after their second encounter. “It doesn’t matter now” he said aloud in an attempt to reassure himself, lying back in the water and looking up at the ceiling “Only him, Luthay; and Michael are aware of how much I know. The separatists won’t recognize my face or name, so I can’t imagine bounty hunters chasing after me”

Only Michael Kunzes.

Seth bit his lip as he considered his options: Attacking their enemies was a laughable idea, so was attempting diplomacy; defending the manor seemed hopeless, and trying to escape is what led him here; he briefly considered hiding, though quickly abandoned the idea as he stuck out too much as one of the few Minth in Xander’s “Luthay told us to stay holed up in here, and although I don’t like it defense does seem to be the least terrible choice...”

He sighed, Luthay was right when he said Seth hated being trapped; and the fact he was now stuck not only in Xander’s- but Toren’s manor specifically just made the pain and stress of the last few days feel meaningless. “Not that I don’t deserve more punishment...” he muttered, trying to ward away the thoughts of death creeping back into his mind “...There’s plenty to read, at least”

After a while longer spent comforting himself Seth rose from the bath, shivering as he dried himself off as well as he could and drained the water; figuring that Rowan was unlikely to care if used more of Toren’s old clothing he chose to wrap himself in a bathrobe much too large for him, feeling only somewhat ridiculous as he slowly walked out and down the hall into the lounge.

...

...And so he turned to face what was left of my father’s squad, the Enclaver's eyes stared deep into us as his face seemed to twist into a diabolical grin; and despite his gruesome injuries, he stood and strode towards us with a near-alien air of casualness about him. Like a guillotine he stood over my terrified father- speaking words beyond my reasoning in a surprisingly young voice "...A real demon" I thought in horror as the wounded soldier took the barrel of my father's musket and guided the tip of it into his own mouth- using his clawed hand to reach forward and pull the trigger for my father; killing himself almost instantly.

"...What did he say?" whispered our typically arrogant Sergeant, glancing over towards the Acturan translator we brought with us "W-Why did he?..."

"He said 'War is painful, isn't it?'" said the translator quietly, a similarly stunned expression on his face "'If you're going to cry like a bitch, you should have stayed home'... I didn't catch anything after that"

...

...Rowan set down the notes he’d found as he noticed Seth had entered the lounge, for a brief moment appearing like some kind of ghost as he gazed out the window at the sunset “...It’s been getting dark earlier” said the Acturan with an almost wistful tone of voice before looking over at him with a shy smile “I didn’t want to disturb you but... have you found something interesting?”

“Oh... just a few notes stapled together” said Rowan awkwardly, glancing away as he stood and offered him the small stack of papers “Some kind of autobiography from the look of it”

“Do you mean... ah, I thought so” started Seth, smirking as he skimmed through the pages “Luthay gave me these a while back; with the things going on in Liskia his boss decided to go ahead and publish the first volume of his memoirs, despite not even having retired yet... When Luthay was sent a copy he just ripped out the most interesting looking bits and gave them to me”

“Really?”

“They have a complicated relationship” said Seth dismissively, handing back the notes “...Anyways, there isn’t much of scholarly value in these pages, though reading them might help familiarize you with how things work out here”

“Right...” said Rowan, subconsciously imagining Seth in place of the Enclaver mentioned in the note he had been reading; shaking his head after realizing that he’d been sort of staring at Seth while his mind wandered “...Oh, um; there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...”

“...What do you mean?” asked Seth a subtle tone of apprehension in his voice as he braced himself for an uncomfortable question.

“...Your collar, is there a key for it?”

Seth was silent for a moment, processing what he’d heard before chuckling quietly “Sorry... I expected something harder to answer...” he paused, bringing a hand up to his neck; slipping a finger between the dense metal and the raw, furless skin beneath it “Slave collars aren’t actually as common as you’d think really; it’s considered crude, and implies that the trainer is bad at their job... so they’re mainly used as a temporary form of punishment” he sighed, sadness clear in his voice as he continued “...Michael put this one around my neck years ago, he chose to have molten lead poured into the locking mechanism so it couldn’t be removed either...”

“...I’m sorry” said Rowan, remembering how Luthay had said a similar thing happened to him years ago “We could get a smith to look at it sometime, or maybe try a pair of bolt cutters if you’d like...”

“It’s not worth it; and I’d rather not risk having my throat cut” said Seth, not mentioning how a part of him felt that he deserved far worse than the discomfort and indignity the collar gave him “But... thank you for caring”

They both were quiet for some time, Rowan pretending to read while contemplating things and Seth pacing idly as the sun sank beneath the horizon; the latter anxiously wondering whether or not the former genuinely didn’t care about his actions or if he was consciously avoiding bringing them up “...Am I intimidating him?” thought Seth doubtfully, he certainly didn’t *look* threatening; being shorter than most women and built like a string, it was kind of a surprise in hindsight that he’d even managed to beat Kunzes’ dog when it pounced him- hell, the dog probably underestimated him all things considered “Is it just out of pity?, he does seem like a kind person; but the fact that he doesn’t even seem to care that I slaughtered a blood relative is what worries me...”

Seth sighed, less than an hour ago he told himself to play it safe and not make assumptions regarding this stranger who had the utmost control over him; yet here he was doing just that. “Be kind, be quiet; and observe” he told himself mentally “Don’t give away more than you already have, if he really needs to know something he’ll ask”

A while later Seth could feel hunger clawing at him, and thinking back on it neither of them had anything besides tea since breakfast “...It’s getting late, would you like anything in particular for dinner?” he asked quietly.

“What?... oh, like I said earlier; you don’t have to-”

“I’m sorry for interrupting” interrupted Seth sheepishly “But I remember what you said, and I’m not asking because it’s expected of me; I’m asking because I enjoy cooking”

“Well... in that case I appreciate it” said Rowan, relieved “I’m not picky, and judging by what you made earlier I’m sure anything you make will be good”

Seth smiled at that, feeling his tail swish behind him as he left for the kitchen “I’ll call you when it’s finished, Love”

=====[Chapter 09 - Underworld]=====

...

CLICK

CLICK CLICK

“I can’t believe you’re worse than me at this” said Michael, smirking as Seth fumbled with the pneumatic rifle they ‘borrowed’ from his father’s arsenal “You told me that you’ve shot one of these before”

“This one is different; each one’s a bit different” argued Seth, attempting to sound dismissive as he shot a glare at the bottles they’d propped up as targets “The one I used was shorter and had to be loaded after each shot”

“Wouldn’t a longer one be more accurate?”

“...Maybe”

“Then there’s no excuse, you just suck at this”

“Well... okay, fine; you’re right” admitted Seth, firing (and missing) one last shot at the bottles before passing the weapon to his friend “The tank should have at least six shots worth of air left in it... think you can take out the rest?”

Wordlessly Michael shouldered the rifle, three sharp clicks rang out as he quickly obliterated the three bottles they’d placed just a few dozen meters in front of them. After a moment he turned and set his sights on the one they set up near the beginning of the trail “So I’ve got three shots left?”

“Showoff”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes..”

“Alright then” said Michael, squinting through the relatively thin foliage blocking his view “I bet you that I could hit it from here, we don’t even have to head down the hill”

“You’d lose that bet” said Seth skeptically; the last target was at least ninety meters away and could only be seen from the sunlight glinting off of it.

“Are you... certain enough to gamble on it?”

“...What do you mean?”

“If I hit it...” Michael paused, looking uncertain for a moment “You... You have to do anything I say for the rest of the day; and not judge me for it”

“You know that sounds creepy right?; and what would I get from it?”

“W-Well... I just...”

“Just what?”

“I...” Michael started, a hint of shame in his voice as he looked off to the side “Please don’t laugh at me...”

“I won’t if you win” said Seth smugly, tempted to tease him further though not wanting to upset him too badly “If you lose though... you have to lick a snail”

“WHAT?, why??”

“It would be funny, and it’s not nearly as ominous as what you’re asking from me” Seth shrugged, fishing a few nail-like bullets from the case they’d taken and offering them to Michael “Also I didn’t have time to think of a better dare”

“Why a snail though?...” grumbled Michael, reluctantly taking the bullets and loading them into the pneumatic rifle before shouldering the weapon again; taking a few deep breathes before lining up his shot.

CLICK

A solid miss, he was too shaky as he pulled the trigger.

CLICK

Another miss; it could have been bad luck, though he knew better than to blame the odds instead of his own shortcomings.

CLICK

Michael broke out into a stupid grin as the bottle burst apart from a perfect hit, half laughing- half cheering awkwardly at his little victory until he heard Seth’s voice-

“Nice shot Love!”

Michael paused, despite having a perfect grasp on Jursen grammar and speaking the language near fluently Seth still had a rather unusual dialect for someone residing in a Jursen colony; a dialect that Michael should have been used to after living with the other teen for the last few years- yet certain phrases and word choices still threw him off... none so much as that last word.

“...Is something wrong?”

Michael turned away, feeling a blush growing on his face. It wasn’t the first time Seth had called him that, he called any person or even animal he cared for ‘Love’; and it also wasn’t the first time he felt an odd surge of excitement as his only friend gently pawed at his shoulder.

“Michael?... I’m sorry; d-did I do something to upset you?... please forgive me...”

With a sigh Michael turned to face the short, distressed Acturan, smiling as he reached forward to catch him in a hug; lifting him off the ground and only holding him closer when Seth let out a startled yelp “It’s nothing” said Michael, enjoying his warmth “...I’m just a bit woozy”

“...Woozy?, are you feeling sick?” asked Seth, gently pulling away to look up at him worriedly “Do you think it was one of those mushrooms I gave you?, I didn’t know-”

“Shh, it’s nothing to worry about” said Michael, pulling him back into a hug before he could say anything; a grin appearing on his face “...And I won by the way”

“I... I guess you did” said Seth sheepishly, grateful that the fur on his face hid his own blush “...You’re not going to make me do anything too weird, right?”

“Only if you want to, Love”

...

...

...

Michael felt sick.

With a tired groan he sat up in bed, rubbing the crust from his eyes before glancing around his quarters. The rising sun cast a fair amount of light through the room’s eastern-facing windows, illuminating his own collection of books; oddities, and books regarding oddities lining the wall of shelves nearest to him. On the wall opposite to said furniture sat a pair of desks stacked with similar things, the larger (and less used) of the two was his own; while the smaller belonged to the twenty year old pretending to sleep next to him.

“I know you’re awake, Esko” he muttered, brushing a hand along the younger Acturan’s fur; wondering for what felt like the hundredth time how different Seth would look if he shared the jagged black stripes running across the half-Bersanese fellow’s back.

“...May I speak honestly?” asked Esko, slowly rolling over to face the man stroking him; Michael could see bite marks and dried blood on the boy’s neck and chest, adding what few people besides himself would call a lovely shade of red to his pet’s pale fur. For a brief moment indignation overcame fear as Esko noticed the human’s gaze focus between his legs; he used his tail to cover himself before glaring at Michael “What the hell’s wrong with you?...” he hissed.

To his surprise Michael actually looked ashamed for a moment, looking to the side “...Sorry” he said quietly, blinking the last of the sleep away “I won’t punish you for being honest”

The seemingly genuine guilt in his voice threw Esko off, leaving him uncertain as he spoke “...What exactly happened yesterday?” he asked, ears splaying back as he heard Michael catch his breath “W-Why were you so mad at me?”

“...I wasn’t mad at you specifically” said Michael after some time, slowly climbing out of bed “... I just handled an important meeting in the worst way possible”

“...You didn’t tell me you had a meeting planned”

“I didn’t” he sighed, getting dressed into his usual choice of dull grey clothes and weather-stained cloak “I... I met Toren’s grand-nephew by dumb luck, and didn’t take advantage of it"

“That’s... unfortunate” replied Esko, he could sense there was something else going on as he got up to get dressed as well “We weren’t planning on him showing up though, so... why were you out the other night?”

“Seth tried to escape with Toren’s work, and now the taxmen are involved”

Esko was silent, unsure if he heard Michael correctly.

“It’s a long story”

...

All news is -by nature- outdated, nowhere is this more apparent than in a forgotten corner like St, Xander’s. And as Michael skimmed over a three month old newspaper delivered from the Liskian heartland he couldn’t help but wonder what the present looked like across the ocean. The cheap tabloid’s headlines varied wildly in tone and degree of sensationalism, with “UNSEELIE SEPARATIST MOVEMENT DECLARES ‘DEADLINES’ FOR NEGOTIATIONS, THREATENS CIVIL WAR” being placed right next to “CROWN PRINCE XANDER XVIII REVEAL’S ROYAL FAMILY’S UNUSUAL CURE FOR ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION?”

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Esko’s pencil scratching from across the table “What are you doing?” he asked, putting the newspaper aside as one of his other servants approached them.

“Crunching some numbers; with that last idiot botching the delivery we have to choose how we’re going to compensate the pirates you’re in touch with...” Esko paused to smile flirtatiously at the kitchen maid serving them breakfast, she was a tall Acturan with mottled brownish-red fur “Sei gentilissima...”

“Bischero” she muttered, nearly dumping his food in front of him before gently setting down Michael’s with a polite nod “Sir”

“Cagna” said Esko under his breath as the woman left.

“Her name’s Annetta”

“What?, I know that-” Esko stopped, ear twitching slightly “...Are you alright?”

“What do you mean?” asked Michael innocently, taking a drink of coffee.

“It’s just... nothing”

“I can tell you want to be with her, it’d be good to call her by name at least” continued Michael, strumming his fingers against the surface of the table.

Esko said nothing, only shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around the dingy bar room; the scent of cheap tobacco and cooking oil had been burned into it even before Michael and his crew moved into the old building, and that combined with the recently boarded up windows made for a particularly unpleasant atmosphere.

“Or, since you don’t seem to respect her; I could just tell the ‘Cagna’ to get on her knees for you” Michael sighed softly as he bit into a cutlet of meat, he didn’t necessarily like the taste; but it would wrong not to honor the dog that Seth had killed “And if she fights back I could have her restrained”

“I... please don’t say that-

“A part of you’s excited by the idea though” interrupted Michael “Don’t try and deny it either, I can tell you’re tempted”

“I’m not a rapist!”

“I never said you were, just that you aren’t as innocent as you want to be”

“...Stop it”

“Alright then, just keep this conversation in mind next time you feel like a victim” said Michael in a tone of false casualness, choosing to change the subject before the Acturan could formulate a response “You mentioned number-crunching a moment ago?”

“I- yes...” sighed Esko, thankful for the change in topic “Since the Custom’s office seized the last batch of contraband we’re short on supplies; namely the war-gear you promised the ‘Free-Brothers’ crew we’ve been working with”

“How short will we be if we give them the airguns we’ve been using?” asked Michael with a frown, taking out the Custom’s Office would be doable even with flintlocks; but the smuggled-in weapons were the only advantage him and his followers would have against the provincial guard, but attempting to backstab them now instead of waiting for the Count and his separatist allies to declare independence and move their troops out of the region would be suicide

“We would still owe them over two dozen pneumatic rifles and a few air compressors, plus the Glazer unit and fuel they ordered” said Esko, taking a sip of his coffee “The problem is that we don’t have enough silver to pay the difference; since they won’t take marks or any other fiat currency”

“They paid us in stolen fiat” grumbled Michael.

“We agreed to only offer payment in the form of precious metals, and that all sales are final; even if they were generous enough to except a refund just this once we wouldn’t be able to afford it since you sent half of it to the banks up north” said Esko “That leaves us with trying to argue for a partial refund against our word or delaying the delivery indefinitely; or not showing up to talk and making half of the North Sea crime ring our enemy”

Michael said nothing, weighing his options. There was another path he could take, it was a dangerous one; and would require some showmanship to pull off, but if all went well they’d have a much better chance at completing his ambitions.

...

Seth was acting weird.

Admittedly, that wasn’t saying much; seeing as he always appeared to be a bit off-kilter for lack of a better term, but what confused Rowan was how laid back he was acting. “What’s wrong friend?, you’ve barely touched your Coddle” asked the Acturan, gesturing at the rather unappetizing bowl of stew in front of Rowan “You said you weren’t picky”

“Oh, it’s nothing; I was just thinking” said Rowan before eating a spoonful; the texture of the pork left much to be desired, but the flavor wasn’t bad by any means “...Is there a reason yours doesn’t have any meat in it?”

“It doesn’t sit well with me” replied Seth, soaking a piece of bread in the broth “Red meat at least, I like fish though”

“Huh”

Neither said anything for a while, though Seth did hum quietly as he ate.

“...Is the food good?” asked Seth abruptly “And do you drink?”

“The potatoes are a bit under cooked but otherwise yeah” answered Rowan “And I drink more than I should if I’m being honest; why do you ask?”

“I drank some of Toren’s wine before and during cooking and I think I’m starting to feel it”

“Oh, how much?” asked Rowan.

“...Most of a bottle” replied Seth, yawning softly “I feel kind of stupid”

“You’re not stupid-”

“Not like that, Love” interrupted Seth with a snicker “I’m just thinking aloud... and I meant it in the short-term, rhetorical sense if you know what I mean”

“I’m... not sure I do” said Rowan uncomfortably, glancing out the cobwebbed window nearest to them; it was raining again, though much more softly than earlier.

“Well- never mind that” he said with a wave of his good hand “I haven’t really gotten drunk since I was a kid, now I’m wondering how much I’ll regret it in the morning”

“You’ll be fine” said Rowan dismissively, staring off into space for a moment as a thought occurred to him “That reminds me... this might sound a bit random, but I’ve been meaning to ask- how old are you again?”

“Twenty-three, nearly twenty-four” answered Seth “Any particular reason you’ve been wondering?”

“Oh, well...” Rowan paused, hoping his next words wouldn’t come across as insulting “When I first entered the city I asked a couple of kids for directions, since they seemed almost as tall as you I was kinda worried you were a child for a while there...”

“Were you worried about my safety, or worried that you were about to make passes at a minor?” asked Seth with a smirk, chuckling as Rowan choked on his soup “I’m just teasing if that wasn’t clear enough”

“Don’t joke about that, please” said Rowan between coughs.

“Fine, fine... so what about you?”

“...’What’ about me?”

“I mean how old are you exactly?, I’m guessing no older than thirty”

“Oh, same as you actually” said Rowan “Twenty-three; my birthday’s in February”

“Huh, mine’s a couple months earlier than yours...” Seth hummed “That means you have to do what I say cause’ I’m older”

“Oh really?” he replied with a snort “Like what?”

“Call me love and kiss me”

Rowan was silent, giving Seth a look somewhere between bafflement and concern.

“...Is what I said that bad?” asked Seth quietly before resting his head on his hand; the sickly sweet facade he hid behind dissolving immediately “You don’t like me anymore, do you?”

“What?, why would- I don’t care if you’re gay” said Rowan awkwardly “I’m just not sure if I’m... interested”

“That’s not... that isn’t what I meant anyways” sighed Seth, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he watched the rain stream down the window panes; a distant flash of lightning lit up the sea beneath it, the silhouette of a ship barely visible on the horizon if one were to look closely “I meant what I said earlier, when I told everyone everything”

“Oh... I already said that I wouldn’t judge you for any of that”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you see me differently” said Seth “You keep glancing at me like you think I’m going to stab you when you aren’t looking”

Rowan bit his lip, a small; shameful part of him wondered if he would “You just seem so different than when I met you by the bridge out there... are you doing alright?”

“What do you think?” he asked, sounding more tired than sarcastic “I could be doing better; though I could also be doing much, much worse”

“Well... you’re still safe here at least”

“We’re not safe here though, not at all” said Seth glumly, as if on cue what sounded like a nearby lightning strike made the building shake slightly “The main reason we haven’t been killed or captured yet is due to luck, and I didn’t even want to come back here either”

“Still... never mind that” Rowan started, unsure where to go and hoping to change the subject “...Have you ever been on a ship?”

“... A ship?”

“Yeah, like a big boat-”

“I know what a ship is, we’re in a port town” interrupted Seth, blinking twice before adding “Is this the setup to a joke?”

“No, I was just curious; the ocean’s just got me thinking of the ferry I took across the strait” explained Rowan, gesturing roughly west “It was sort of weird, kinda fun though”

“I’ve been on one at least once, twice if a wrecked ship counts” said Seth “Maybe a few more times if you’re generous with the definition“

“Did you enjoy it any of the times?

“The shipwreck was neat, for context I was about twelve at the time and living in the Barrens” started Seth, feeling a little nostalgic “It was just off of the coast on a sandbar we knew was hidden during high tide; Judith figured it belonged to some smugglers based on the cargo. I remember climbing the masts to help salvage the sails and rigging... The other time I was on a ship wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t... I was in a bad point in my life; I’d rather not talk about it”

“Fair enough”

Little else was said by the time they finished dinner, Rowan deciding that he’d rather not pry further into the Thaumaturgical matters they had discussed earlier; for the time being at least.

He also chose not to ask about the risque comments Seth kept making.

Even after dinner; shortly before going to bed he had jokingly offered to help ‘warm him up’ if he got cold later, to which Rowan politely declined.

Even if a part of him wanted to accept.

He was quick to dismiss the thought, even though he definitely wasn’t against cross-species sexuality; and had been interested in guys in the past...

Rowan shook his head as he got ready for bed, even though he had promised to emancipate the Acturan as soon as possible the power imbalance between them would make any relationship (even a platonic one) ethically dubious at best, not to mention Seth’s apparent mental instability and/or trauma. Oh, and if that wasn’t enough there was the fact that he was heavily inebriated.

Despite it all Rowan couldn’t help but remember one of the first things he thought after meeting Seth out near the bridge was that he was cute... a thought that was only solidified when Rowan noticed some of his less disturbing mannerisms; like how often he hummed while relaxed, or how excited he could get when sharing some bit of history or trivia he knew.

...

His hand shook as he reached for his flask.

“You shouldn’t do that”

Michael scoffed, not dignifying the diminutive Acturan beside him with a response. It was night by the time they arrived at the old fishing lodge outside Xander’s; the nature of their business and company made such meetings only practical under the cover of darkness, yet despite having all day to prepare they still cut it close to the hour they had previously agreed to meet at; having been slowed down by the preparations necessary for the stunt he intended to pull.

The preparations that still left the skin of his right arm burning.

“...I still think it would be wiser to ask for more time” added Esko, watching with thinly veiled apprehension as the pirate’s riverboat approached the splintery pier in front of them; the unusual vehicle was driven by what appeared to be a wide waterwheel stuck onto the back, which in turn was spun by a device known as an ‘engine’ “They’ll certainly see what you’re planning as a threat”

“That’s the point, unlike the fat-asses in power our ‘guests’ won’t invest in a light show” said Michael with a scowl before gesturing towards the building behind them with his umbrella, causing Esko to yelp softly as he was suddenly exposed to the cold rain “Not to mention the threat of violence comes with the territory”

Esko moved a step closer to Michael to get under the umbrella before glancing up at the lodge, spotting the familiar shapes of some of his followers in the open windows, pneumatic rifles at the ready; Esko couldn’t remember most of their names since Michael always arranged for a different group to come back after meeting up with his northern crew. In fact, they were expecting a group of potential recruits to be sent soon down for them to vet and possibly bring into the fold.

Or harvest if they weren’t eligible.

Quickly shaking off the thought (and water) Esko looked back down the pier to spot a couple of the pirates mooring the craft while the others kept an eye on Michael’s gunmen; while most of the two dozen or so Free-Brothers that Esko could see were Acturan there also happened to be a few Humans and even an Abradali in their ranks. Most notable was this crew’s leader who strode up to meet them.

“Good evening, Gotz” said Michael, offering his hand to the tall figure.

“...Evening” replied Gottfried, declining to shake hands. The outlaw wore an old pea coat that looked stiff enough to stand on it’s own alongside some plain trousers. Hanging from his neck was a silver pendant depicting what Esko assumed was the moon; he figured it was some pagan symbol most likely, and was more surprised -and a tad envious- to find the pirate had a proper pair of shoes made for Acturan anatomy “You have everything?”

“I have more than that” replied Michael, resting his hand on his hip “And I’m willing to share”

“I can’t say I’m interested” said Gottfried, his tone was inscrutable; and the fact that he always looked either tired or irritated made it difficult to tell his intentions.

“Just bear with me” he said, slowly revealing a crude looking flintlock pistol “And give me a target”

“...A target?” asked Gottfried, clearly unimpressed .

“A tree, a rock; perhaps someone that you don’t care much for”

The pirate glanced at Esko.

“...Someone neither of us care much for” Michael corrected himself .

“Fine... I’ll play along for now” said Gottfried, crossing his arms before glancing around the little cove and woods around it “See that huge pine over there?, the one right by the water across from here?”

“I see it... do you think it’s tall enough to hit your boat if it falls this way?”

“You’re really trying to tell me that toy of yours can fell a tree nearly six feet across?” he asked skeptically, frowning as he saw Michael was serious. Reluctantly the outlaw called out in a language Michael couldn’t understand to a few of his subordinates on the riverboat and pointed to the tree, waiting until one of them shook their heads before glancing back at the human “Go ahead”

“Certainly” said Michael, one hand behind his back as he aimed the weapon; which upon closer inspection seemed to have a dark red ‘webbing’ of sorts stretched over it’s metal components, including the trigger itself.

Before Gottfried could comment on the device, it began to hiss quietly; before firing and filling the air in front of it with smoke and scarlet sparks. A sharp crack rang out as the bullet embedded itself in the tree near the base, followed by a distinctively -yet indescribably- organic sounding noise accompanied by smoke. After a moment everyone watching could see little holes appearing around where the bullet struck, slowly growing in size until the wood had a texture similar to a honeycomb.

And then, barely a second later; the pockmarked base of the tree burst into smoke and deep red fire, sending warped and blackened wood chips flying so far that a few hit the hull of the ship; ricocheting back towards the water.

Before anyone spoke, another sound grabbed everyone present’s attention; the sound of the great pine beginning to fall.

Michael smirked faintly as Gotz and the handful of pirates who had been curious enough to watch the show unconsciously began taking steps back, whatever faith they had in their earlier guess being tested as the tree struck the water hard enough to make waves; the very top of the pine landing less than fifty feet from them.

Gottfried, to his credit; kept a fairly straight face. “Witchcraft...” he muttered, frowning as the surge of water roughly shoved his boat against the pier; shattering the end of the old wooden walkway with ease “...I think I’ll hear your offer”

...

“...He’ll be gone by now”

“Shut up”

“Even if... even if he came back.. he would go again”

“Shut up”

“...Can we rest for a minute?”

“I said...” Basil paused as her brother hacked up and spat a glob of phlegm onto the street, his breathing was shaky as he leaned against her for support; figurative chills running down Basil’s spine as opposed to the literal ones felt by her sibling.

“Sorry...” mumbled Chet as his sister guided him forwards “I just... Seth told me he wouldn’t come back; not yet...”

“You said that already” said Basil tiredly “But Katelyn says she saw him and someone else come out of the underground yesterday, and you trust her right?”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do” said Basil firmly, squinting as the morning sun cut through the clouds; in any other situation she would love to clamber up onto one of the abandoned apartment blocks and simply bask in it’s glow.

But now wasn’t the time.

Instead, Basil continued marching her younger brother down the street as her thoughts turned to darker things; silently cursing the father she never knew, the mother who hadn’t even tried fighting to stay with them; the demented old man their very lives belonged to...

“...I want to go home”

“Shut the fuck up!” hissed Basil, teeth grating as she all but dragged him towards Toren’s manor “Do you -want- to die?”

“...No” whispered Chet after some time “I just don’t want to be disappointed...”

“Then just...” she trailed off, feeling awful as she brought herself to a stop; slowly facing him. Chet was always a spindly child, but the weight he had lost over the last week combined with the zombie-like gait he began to fall into made it seem as if Chet would collapse any minute now.

“...I’m sorry” said Basil softly, unsure if he heard her. With a sigh she looked up the road; briefly considering her options before suddenly turning and crouching down away from him “...Get on”

“...What?” asked Chet after a moment, unsure if he heard her correctly.

“Do you remember when I used to give you piggyback rides?” asked Basil.

“But... I’m not a little kid anymore” said Chet uncertainly “I’m twelve”

“You’re still smaller than me, dummy” said Basil, trying to sound confident for his sake more than anything “And we’re already halfway there anyways”

“...Okay, if you say so” said Chet quietly, after a moment he awkwardly climbed onto her back; arms wrapped around her neck as she hooked hers around his legs, slowly standing with a grunt.

“Will you be okay carrying me all the way?” asked Chet.

“I’ll be fine” assured Basil, hearing her brother’s raspy breathing right behind her head strengthening her resolve “You’ll be fine too”

...

“Do your people have no sense of taste?”

“Most of us don’t drink it for the flavor” replied Michael, amused by the outlaw’s look of disgust. The three of them were inside the fishing lodge now, and had been for some time; discussing things over coffee “And that still doesn’t answer my question”

“You know I shouldn’t even be considering this” said Gottfried warily “Truth be told, YOU shouldn’t be either”

“Maybe, but you of all people should know things are getting harder down here anyways” said Michael, looking out into the cove where the other pirates were working to patch up their ship “The Enclavers aren’t only targeting us Westerners now are they?”

“...They once fired a siege gun at us” admitted Gottfried “They missed obviously, but I’d rather not risk it again”

“So help me finish up in Xander’s, and we’ll start meeting up north” said Michael, wincing at the dull ache in his arm; it was a pain both literally and figuratively modifying that damned gun and bullet, and he didn’t plan on setting up another shot any time soon.

Not that Gotz needed to know that.

“You don’t have to make a decision immediately though” continued Michael “But I’ll need an answer by the end of the week at least”

“...Still not enough time to consult Raita” grumbled Gottfried, fishing a tin case from his pocket and taking a couple of long cigarettes from it; unlatching the lantern on the table between them to light one “You know he was a taxidermist before becoming a Free-Brother right?”

“So I’ve heard” answered Michael “Apparently some pieces attributed to him sell for quite a bit, Murderabilia and all that”

“Heh... he still makes it in his spare time” said Gottfried while offering him the other cigarette, giving a shrug when Michael shook his head before offering it to Esko to the latter’s surprise “...Except nowadays he stuffs exotic creatures instead of young men’s trophies... and the occasional person”

“So that rumor’s true then” said Michael matter of factly “Goes hand-in-hand with the occult; are you saying he’ll skin you if you fuck up?”

“Me?, no; we’ve been friends since we were kids” said Gottfried, taking a draw of his cigarette “He’d be disappointed and I’d lose some standing in the organization... he might chop you up though”

“Then for both of our sakes, try not to fuck up”

For a while each of them said nothing, the only sounds besides the rain being the quiet footsteps from upstairs. Gottfried unconsciously chewed the end of his cigarette as he mulled things over, he felt that the brief head rush usually helped ‘straighten out’ his nerves; but right now the nicotine (and carbon monoxide) wasn’t hitting like it usually did.

Michael kept a mostly relaxed expression, though it did seem as if he was silently waiting for a cue. Esko by contrast looked almost the opposite as he tucked away the cigarette, visibly uncomfortable and feeling as if he were about to be caught in the crossfire of whatever happened next.

For better or worse, there was no conflict however “..The one thing I’m wondering...” started Gottfried, breaking the little stalemate “...Is why we’d need you”

Michael smirked, surprised it took this long for him to say it “The truth is you don’t”

“...Then why ask for help if you don’t have any leverage or anything to pay us with?, what’s to stop us from grabbing this ‘Seth’ you know and prying the information out of him ourselves?”

“Because I would be the one doing you and Raita a service; if anything you should be paying me” said Michael, continuing before the outlaw could comment “Firstly, there’s the fact that I’m the only man alive who knows how Seth’s mind works; meaning I’d know whether he’s lying or not, which is obviously useful if you’re going to be trusting your life to his work. Secondly, I’ve been Toren’s primary supplier of rare Thaumaturgical materials for the last few years now; meaning you’ll need me and my contacts unless you want him cutting corners, which yet again is useful if you’re going to be trusting your life to his work...”

Gottfried frowned but said nothing.

‘...Thirdly -as you saw earlier- is the fact that I myself am a Thaumaturge” said Michael, glancing out the window into the cove “For all of his skill, Seth was still just the assistant in Toren’s lab; with the old man dead and his notes destroyed the project’s fundamentals will need to be rebuilt, which I can help with directly... Unless of course you’re comfortable having a lunatic who hates you winging it with your life”

“You... certainly think highly of your abilities” started Gottfried cautiously, looking out at the felled tree floating in the water “...But I suppose that I’m in no position to doubt you”

“So are you ready to answer me?”

“...We’ll follow you” sighed Gottfried, slowly standing before offering his hand “For now at least; your enemies are our enemies”

“And my friends are your friends” replied Michael, smiling as he shook hands.