Of Kith and Kin

[Stare]

Mature language and content.
Solo with guest appearance of Nevin

https://img00.deviantart.net/c7ca/i/2011/185/7/8/sabin_duvert_by_fuchsiart-d3ky4fn.jpg

[Stare]

Pop ...

And there she was, back in her life, all thoughts of escape truly impossible, a past dream that had failed with the appearance of Raevin back into her life.

Glancing down she saw Raevin's fingers carefully and tightly wound around hers. In his other hand he held a softly pulsating blue orb that was dimming in light. From the brief knowledge that she had gathered in the few minutes before he had taken her hand the orb was a form of teleport.

"We are going," the proud, brown haired elf had said.

"Now?" She had looked surprised.

Raven had nodded and revealed the globe from his breeches pocket. "Yes, now. Teleport."

And she had looked stunned before the orb had flooded with blue light, the world had spun and now they were here. Within a long stone corridor, a heavy iron and wood door behind them. One other man stood in front of that door and he was one of the guards that immediately gasped.

And then he bowed suddenly, at the waist. "Lady Stare. Captain!"

Stare wrenched her hand from Raevin's and glanced around at the corridor they were in. It was white stone, continuously down until another door. Torchlight was the only illumination, with ones in even spaces of around twenty feet intervals. Slowly, she took in a breath, knowing exactly where they were.

In the same place she had first ever met Vitruvion. The Hollow, his underground sex-dungeon empire, but with real torture and rape.

She turned back to Raevin and looked at him with a long breath out. "So we're here now. Now what?"

He shrugged. "The brotherhood court should be in session soon." And he threw her a sly smile.

With distaste she clacked her tongue against the side of her beak. The brotherhood were the ten men who each had a part in the Hollow, with their own sex harem, with three or so kidnapped captive women each. Stare had started out as one of Vitruvion's - the brother who had made the Hollow in the first place and the undesputed leader of the council. The council came together every three months or less to discuss the running of the Hollow. Stare had only ever been to one - and that was when she was bound, and at Vitruvion's mercy. She had been there as a sign of his power.

Swiftly she twisted around to the guard who had bowed. "Thank you ... Arcus," she said, addressing him directly with a sigh.

The elf, for an elf the guard was, nodded to her and then to to Raevin, a smile on his face. He seemed entirely uneffected by their sudden arrival.

[Stare]

They traversed further into the tunnel, passing three more doors and several guards. Each looked at Stare and Raevin as they passed, each unlocking those doors that needed to be unlocked, and showing various forms of respect, from more bows to a grunt. When they got to the first doors that started off from the corridor, set into the walls thsmeves, it got wider. A face or two appeared in the windows and grills at doors, watching in awe as Vitruvion's two primary aides walked past.

Onwards they went, until they came to a sudden large, round room. Stare knew from experience that they had passed five of the brotherhood's suites, and five lay beyond, down a corridor that sat directly opposite the one they had come from. Another one lay perpendicular to them, and all of it was decked out in the same white stone.

Raevin paused, looking at her for a moment.

"You say you were captured and held for five days, yeah?"

A flash of memory came across Stare's mind. Five days indeed it had been, held in a dark cell, bound with arms and legs behind her in cruel metal, a blindfold around her eyes to stop her from doing magic. She had learnt, whilst escaping along with her friend Nevin, that the people who had captured her were bounty hunters, and worked alongside a demonic mage. That man had been able to remove her devinely bestowed cuff that allowed Vitruvion to be able to see into her mind, undetected by her, and speak to her. But without it, he had become anxious and sent Raevin, his other second in command to rescue her. But she had done most of that herself.

It also transpired that the mage himself said that his sponsor (the demon) had been approached by someone. Someone who had spoken about Vitruvion as their 'brother'. But as far as Stare knew Vitruvion only had one half sister.

"Yes. You saw the state I was in and," she touched her wrists where there were still clear signs of chafing, where the days of manacles had worn away feather, skin and even flesh. "Why would I ever lie about this?"

Raevin raised his brows and shrugged. "I have no idea. We'll leave it up to him, shall we, to make up his mind."

She stared furiously, eyes darkening. "Rae. I am not lying. The mage removed my cuff, he basically told me outright his power came from demon. He spoke of a brother. How many times do I need to tell you this?"

Raevin blinked, then shrugged. "I am not sure," he confessed. "Enough times until it makes sense." He stood up and nodded at the corridor. Another door - the last door, of oak and brass - stood before them, that which led into the council chambers. Where Vitruvion, the man who was secretly a god, and had claimed himself as her god, sat in session. Her employer. Her ... Master.

Stare sucked in her breath and nodded herself, before starting forwards. Into the breach, to face the man - who was secretly a human form-bound god - from whom she had been unable to contact all these days.

He was going to be furious.

[Stare]

Ten chairs. Arranged in a circle with ten proud men of differing species, a tapestried round room encircling all. A couple of humans, three or so elves, an orc and a man more cat than anything. Before six of them were cushions, and seated on those cushions were bound and scantily dressed women, some gagged, others left with their hands free. The men lounged, and some of them with the females before them held or rested their feet on them with gentle possession. Behind each chair stood one or two guards, a spare few female but most male, each armed and willing to lay down his life for his employer. Who were taking turns speaking.

Before Raevin and Stare directly was the finest carved chair of all - a throne for want of a better term. A wave of white hair was revealed atop, as well as an arm holding a goblet, but else the figure was obscured by the huge back of the chair, and a half giant.

A half giant who heard them come in ... Then turned and offered the largest smile.

"Brer," Stare said quietly to her old friend, and once her personal guard from when she was a captive here.

The half-giant grinned, then stepped aside, allowing her the room to move forward. Eyes were on her, reacting to the disturbance that her and Raevin had made by heading in. The conversation between the men paused for a moment, and it allowed time for the man with the white hair to look back.

Blue, startling eyes. Glancing around the side of his throne. His gaze met Stare's and held for a significant moment of time as first surprise, then relief, and lastly satisfaction fell across his features. He slowly smiled, smirking almost and gave her a look that said, 'Welcome home.'

Silence was now reigning. The blue eyed man - Vitruvion himself - turned to his other brothers on the council and waved a hand.

"Continue," he commanded. There was a pause, then the one who had previously been speaking went on, talking apparently about the most recent woman he had kidnapped.

Once the conversation was back in order Vitruvion gestured to Stare, motioning her to come close. As bidden she did, her heart pounding, the knowledge that she would never get away now, after all that had happened, clear in her head. As she approached she noticed someone before him - a young elf, bound with her hands behind her back in intricate knotwork. From a collar on her neck trailed a thin cord of hessian, and this was joined to Vitruvion's hand. When Stare came she glanced back, then her eyes suddenly widened. She sucked in a slow breath, gazing in wonder.

"You're ..." She whispered.

"You have been gone," interrupted Vitruvion, his voice low and quiet. Stare had to lower her head a little in order to hear. It gave the image of her giving supplication to him, which he probably liked.

Stare paused, keeping eye contact with the elf. "Yes," she said in equal measures, answering both of them in one.

Vitruvion slowly pulled in a breath and turned his face back to his brothers. "You have a lot of explaining to do," he intoned.

Then he moved the hand down that held the lead, to push the elf's head away. "Stop," he ordered her. "You will never be the same as her."

[Stare]

Immediately Stare felt a great pang of pity for the elf, but like most things in the Hollow there was little she could do about it. In the original genesis of Vitruvion's plan to bring the kenku into his household Stare was going to take on the administration side of the Hollow. However, as time had progressed, and the Heysan escapade had occurred, that particular plan had been sundered to nothing. Instead, Stare had taken on the role of general observing manager of all of Vitruvion's more legitimate projects in the city, becoming his public face so that he could spend more time at leisure. Whilst he delved further into the world of sex, illicit drugs and smuggling, she made his house and businesses run smoothly. It was a very true statement that for the past six months, since Stare had taken up the responsibilities, that Vitruvion's legal wealth had almost doubled.

Thus he had never chased the idea of her presence in the Hollow. Instead a silent agreement existed between them that she was useful where she was. She preferred it and he seemed to now also.

The elf did not look at her anymore, but instead kept her eyes to the ground. Vitruvion was quiet for a moment and then leant back over to Stare and said in the smallest whisper.

"I can still not see you."

Knowing exactly what he meant Stare took in a breath. She blinked a few times, then reached into a pouch at her belt. Once her fingers had grasped around the cold, hard metal, she brought out the remains of the cuff - the object that had previously been bound to her wrist and gave Vitruvion access to see her surface thoughts and see and hear what she did. Removed by the demonic mage it had had iron-like immoveable lacing that had all but now disintegrated, probably by the touch of his chaotic fingers.

Carefully and attemptingly subtly, she held out the cuff to him. The god stared at it for one single but long second, and then plucked it from her. With a curl of his upper lip he showed his distaste and his fury, but pocketed the item without so much as another word.

Stare breathed in slow, knowing from experience his anger. Tightening her jaw she remained where she was, but straight backed now and a dark momento of his power here.

Time slipped by. The ten brothers continued to speak to one another, and Vitruvion only spoke when it was desperately needed. Nothing seemed too vexing in the council this time - the one who usually riled up Vitruvion, a bearded man called Hugin, was particularly quiet. He did not even have a female accompanying him.

When it was clear that Vitruvion's impatience was getting at him, the god stood, a flow of deep indigo blue falling around him. Immediately, the room fell silent, a clear sign of his power. He looked around the room, said quietly, "This council is dismissed," and then nudged the elf with his knee. Stare watched her get uncomfortably to her feet.

And she couldn't help thinking, That was once me.

[Stare]

There was silence for a while. Only the click, click of Stare's claws, the clump, clump of Vitruvion's cane and the pitter, patter of the elf's feet on the floor as they walked through the halls. Vitruvion went first, his hand still grasping onto the fine rope attached to the elf's neck, shortly followed by Raevin. The elf trailed after, a generous length of space granted to her, but her hands still tightly bound behind her. Stare strode, eyes dark, mind considering all the possibilities, just by her. And behind them all Brer dwadled, rather happier than everyone put together.

Eventually Vitruvion looked at Raevin and began to question him.

"Where did you find her?"

"In a harbour town in Corone. She was in a state. And with that blood mage," the captain answered, honestly.

Vitruvion blinked. "In a-"

"Hi."

A voice from much closer. Female, soft and slightly different from others here. Stare turned her head slightly to the elf and fixed her with a single dark eye. The girl was smiling.

"... Hello," Stare replied, hesitantly.

"I'm Ophelia," the elf whispered. "You must be ... Well they call you Stare."

Stare grunted, "My name is Stare. And yours isn't Ophelia, probably." She blinked long and hard, as the elf's face fell. But Stare personally knew the inevitability of losing one's name here. "So?"

The elf swallowed slightly and her eyes fell to looking at the ground. "He calls me Sable."

The kenku's eyes went up to look at Sable's hair - fine and black as her own feathers - and she grunted. "He's got so much imagination," she drawled sarcastically.

But Sable didn't answer. She looked entirely sorrowful and lost. Disappointment was clear - in Stare. Clearly she had been hoping to find a keen ally in her.

Sucking in breath Stare then sighed and murmured back. "Adapt to the name. It'll make things easier. I know it is hard but you come to accept it as yours." She paused. "Avis died a long time ago. Stare has been living for months."

"But how - how did you do it?" Sable whispered in a suddenly back-to-inquistive tone. "How did you persuade him to free you? Blaze said that you - you tried to escape. How did he forgive you after that?"

"Just because I no longer live here, does not mean I'm free," the kenku replied quietly, meaning each and every word. Her eyes knotted into the god's back. "But I understand him more now. I owe him respect and loyalty."

"But ... why?" The elf was incredulous. "He's ... He's a rapist and-"

A sharp tug on her rope made her fall quiet. Both women glanced up to see Vitruvion making a sharp exit to the right, Raevin already holding the door open for him. Sable stumbled a little with the jerk, gasping under the pressure of it. Pausing, Stare let her pass in, and stood there for a while outside the room she used to know so well.

White stone, the same as the whole Hollow. Large and rectangular with three doors in three separate walls. Tables, chairs, chains and stocks littered the room, as a place meant to instill horror.

A jab at her elbow, and she looked to see Raevin cocking an eyebrow. She grunted, and then followed the god and elf in, Brer coming after.

"Stare," Vitruvion suddenly said, and then he threw something at her. The end of the rope. Stare caught it out of instinct, but was honestly surprised. Glancing up she saw him looking at her, his white hair framing his face like a renaissance portrait - proud and defined was he.

"What?" she questioned back.

"Take Sable back to her room," he smirked at her. "You can take off her bonds, then lock it. You should know where the room is. It's your old one."

[Stare]

Stare simply stared at him for a long time, grinding the sides of her beak together. For a single moment she wished he could read her mind right now, so she could hiss at him. You fucking bastard. Even though her powers could not work on him in the slightest, she threw all her hate, anguish and despair at him, wishing all the nightmares and necrosis she could.

"Well?" he asked, pressure behind his words.

Not hiding her loud clack of her tongue against her beak, a signal she used to communicate severe distaste, Stare twisted around, and began to stalk over to the far door. The one with a small window and showing deep red within. Her claws dug into her palm as she strode with clear frustration, the end of the rope gripped into her palm. She tried to ignore the gulping cry as Sable hurried to follow, reminding herself that this was probably one time in future many when Vitruvion would shame her.

Shoving through the door, she dropped the rope and let her eyes very briefly scan the room. The same deep crimson and scarlet drapes washed over the room, as well as the rich tapestries. A massive four poster bed, with loops and hooks hidden in the base, a table with two chairs, a chamber pot. It was exactly the same as she had remembered - the same lack of light, same absence of entertainment.

Her jaw locked and she twisted around to stare at Sable for a moment, seeing the elf standing with her eyes huge and breathing in shallowly. By the door a shadow lurked and it took not much knowledge to understand it was Brer.

Watching. Waiting.

Fuck the man, fuck, fuck.

Stare grabbed her mythril dagger at her belt, and started the couple of steps back to Sable.

"Turn around," she grunted.

Sable did as she was bidden, a little eager apparently. Holding out her arms as far as she could go she stayed absolutely still as Stare cut through the ropes, reducing them to shreds. Soon a pile of frayed ends were gathered around them and a sigh was escaping Sable's lips.

"Oh my. That was ..."

"Stay here," Stare muttered, dropping her eyes. "I'll get someone to clear up. They listen to me in that respect." Carefully she sheathed the knife again.

There was a pause.

"You ... You are just going?"

Stare didn't look at her and roughly moved, not wanting to reminded of this part of her life for longer than was necessary. "I hate this room and I need to return. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

The call was so desperate and frantic that it made Stare pause. In the word she heard the pain and suffering that she herself had lived through, a myriad of different sorrows. Letting a groan run through her silently she twisted around and fixed her with a single eye. Sable looked entirely distraught, sunken and depressed.

"Hel- help me to escape," she whispered.

Stare did what she did best, and looked at her. Seriously and unmagical.

"I can't do that Sable," she said quietly. "Please do not ask me again."

"But you know what I'm going through!" the elf mumbled, "Please, Avis, please, Stare ..."

"I'm sorry," Stare said quietly, and turned away. She half jogged rom the room, uncomfortable and truly feeling as sick as Sable did. Behind her the door was slammed, and Brer turned the large key and various bolts. Locking Sable into the hell that Stare had already lived through.

[Stare]

"You're a fucking asshole," she yelled as soon as she closed the door to the room.

Following Brer's direction she had gone through the last door in the rectangular room, ending up in a room full of supplies - more tables, ropes and the like. In a far corner, sitting on two fine armchairs, a neat coffee table between them, was Vitruvion and Raevin, continuing to talk.

"Say that again, my dear, and I'll have you watch next time I need to satisfy my needs."

She knew exactly what that threat meant. Stare's hatred burned through her eyes as she glared at him, lounging like the lord he was.

"Stop looking at me like that also, Stare. It is me who should be furious at you, me who has been wronged. By you, my property."

"Throw that one at me why don't you," she shouted back. "Just because-"

"Shut up," he suddenly said, very low and full of warning. "Shut up right now, girl, I tell you I am not in the slightest in the mood."

She fell silent. The halves of her beak pressed together, but her eyes didn't stop in their seething hatred.

"I guess that will have to do," he curled his lip, "Come over here, and don't say a thing until I have done talking."

Slowly she breathed in, and threw her eyes to the ground. Her heart hammered, her hands ground into fists.

"Stare!"

Very much not in the mood. Picking up her feet, practically dragging them, Stare forced herself to go over to the one man she currently wanted to be very, very distant from.

"Here," he pointed right by his chair.

She moved over to where he motioned, breath short and fury very much obvious. Her body shook slightly with agitation, but she stopped just near his arm.

He took an unbareably long time to answer. Meanwhile Raevin sat there, quiet and respectful, not saying anything or moving.

"Right. That is better," Vitruvion said quietly. "Now, Raevin has told me that he found you almost dead with that blood mage friend of yours, wandering around the streets of some harbour. He also said that you told him you had been a prisoner for five while days, and you did not remove the cuff," he sounded highly speculative. He paused. "Is this true?"

She pulled her hands close to her front, suddenly feeling particularly vulnerable.

"Yes," she said, not seeing any more than was necessary. Not wanting to remember those five days. Not ever again.

"Right," Vitruvion said slow, disbelief still in his voice. "And ... Who are these mysterious captors, who apparently took a random kenku and a random human that she just happened to know, and managed to remove a cuff made by ... Well me and my father?!"

"Bounty hunters," she hissed, lifting her eyes, hating his distrust. "People who put me through hell because someone has a call out on anyone who works for you. Especially me, apparently. And Nevin - he comes from a cult, as you know, he had a call out on himself too. It was mere chance and luck that we were able to meet, without him I'd still be there and not know anything-"

"Enough," Vitruvion held up a hand. "The cuff. How do you explain that?"

"A mage in service to a demon," she retorted. "Makes sense, opposite power. And he was also in cahoots with someone who-"

"A demon?!" Vitruvion was stunned for a moment. "Must have been a particularly powerful one. Was any name mentioned?"

"No, but-" she paused. "Wait, are you now saying you believe me?"

He shrugged. "No, I did not. But-"

"There was another involved," she interrupted, knowing Vitruvion had to know it. "But-"

"Stare!" he slammed a hand suddenly down on the arm of his chair. A loud clap that made her jump. She stared at him with huge, surprised eyes.

He held that gaze. "I will treat you like you deserve if you keep on this," he glared back at her. "As I said, I am not in the mood. Everything is in uproar because of your disappearance. I had to send Raevin after I lost contact with you. And both you and him gone - well. You can imagine what happened. It was a disaster," he threw up a hand. "Absolutely-"

"For fuck's sake, I've waited long enough," she growled, now over the shock. "Do what you want with me, lock me up, beat me, I don't care, but I need to tell you something. Now."

She shoved her hands on the arm of the chair right beside his. He stared at her like she was mad, and she admitted that maybe she was.

"The mage was hired by a man that he called - well, your 'brother'."

[Stare]

Getting to the Elssmith manor, Vitruvion's glorious noble city dwelling, complete with gardens, was an easy feat. Once Vitruvion's initial shock had passed, once he had murmured back the same thoughts as Stare - that he didn't have a brother as far as she was concerned - he had dismissed her. Eagerly she had left, wanting nothing but to be out of that place. He told her to be silent about the mysterious, possible relation, and she agreed, completely willing. Raevin remained quiet throughout the whole proceedings, just thinking her an absolute idiot.

A horse from the Hollow's stables, up and behind the building that hid the entrance, that was also known as the 'Guard House'. A single guard was sent with her - mostly to make sure she did as bidden. Once in she was greeted by a very happy amount of staff. Mrs Deerling, the cook, confessed they had hugely over bought on stock while Stare was away. Jeremy, the stablehand complained that his breaks were all over the place because of a lack of organisation. And Druss, the head butler as of just a half month previous, had completely freaked and forgotten apparently every skill.

Thus, Stare was faced with a full two hours of agitated organisation, the guard trailing her wherever she went. The last thing she did was grab the accounts book and pour over it, grunting when she saw what she had expected - costs all in wrong and the household making a huge loss for the week. It took her a further hour to correct it and give stern warnings to everyone not to overspend again.

Meanwhile the guard still followed, clearly having been given orders to mark on all that she did and the places she went. After she had sort of fixed the household - a week of hard work probably ahead of her as well - she looked at him for the first time and announced she was heading to her bedroom. As she climbed the stairs he wordlessly trailed after. When she paused, he did also, and it took her to actually walk fully into her fancy, panelled room for him to stop.

And speak.

"I'll wait out here, Miss," he said quietly.

She nodded back. "Please do." And she closed the door loudly in his face.

Once in her eyes glanced around the room, blinking slowly and directly comparing it to her old one - now Sable's. It was richly decorated, but far more homely. There was no need to drape the room, because the walls themselves were a fine panelled wood. The colour of the room had recently been changed, from red to a series of blues and greys. Heavy dark indigo curtains hung around a bay window, the main light in the room. A massive oak four poster bed, that matched the grand furniture, a woollen rug on the floor. A huge bookshelf held a series of books that she had collected over the six months of employment, as well as trinkets from her travels. It was a good room, a personalised room, with a gorgeous en suite beyond.

Stare fell onto her feathers bed, sighing with desdain and exhaustion.

It was not long before she curled up into a tight ball and sobbed her experience of yet another hell away.

[Stare]

It was dark, and late, when the door opened finally.

By that time Stare had rid herself of the worst of the tears. Also she had shed herself of the heaviest clothing, getting rid of the light chainmail, the belt and tunic. She lay in just a simple pair of underhose, curled up beneath a warm fluffy blanket, sniffing periodically, not able to sleep.

When the creak came, she knew who it was. It was inevitable that he would come, whether that night, the next day or time after. And there were only so few people that entered her bedroom at all, especially in the quiet of the dark, that she had no hesitation knowing his identity.

Hugging her arms around her knees she continued to lie there, her back to him, half naked but in her natural feathers.

He had seen her worse.

There was a long period of silence that extended. Solemnly she stayed in her stance, not expecting anything more than anger from him and recieving only quiet. The seconds ticked by, not even an owl hooted outside. Her breathing filled her ears and the emotions of simply living began to grow too much again, as wet began to fill her eyes.

"The brewery?" He asked suddenly, quietly.

The question caught her completely off guard. For a few seconds she froze, trying to figure out completely what he meant - then the answer came to her, obvious. The reason she had gone to Corone in the first place. To secure his ownership of the Grand Celestial Brewery.

"It's ... Yours," she said very quietly, whispering in a minute, hoarse voice. "Completed. Secured."

A slow, steady intake of breath.

"Right. Good," he paused. "And the household?"

"Sorted as soon as I came in," she replied, a little louder and with more force. But she was still lost and sorrowful. "Done. You have ... It's fixed," she buried her beak deeper into her arms.

There was a long pause. Then she felt pressure on the bed as a weight depressed into it, sending her side rising. A shiver ran down her spine but for the sake of sanity she tried to ignore it. Instead she kept where she was; inward and holding herself and unable to sleep.

"Good. You are of great use to me, Stare. You serve me well."

I never had a choice in the matter, she said to herself.

He took another moment of silence. "I know that you partly loathe my entire existence, but I cannot let you go. I never will. Your very being had begun to enable me to become what I am supposed to be. To understand what I am." The weight shifted as he moved closer to her. "Stare?"

She closed her eyes slowly and let out a inaudible sigh. "Yes?" Her insides were squirming, wanting to be left alone in her misery.

"I had a long conversation with Raevin. He sees no reason for you to lie. And neither do I." Her heart began to thump a little faster. So be believed her now? "But to ascertain the real truth ... Well. I need to see."

That word. Pronounced and strong. A little too obvious to go unknown, full of meaning and a thousand other iterations.

It meant he had fixed the cuff. In those few hours, somehow, he had managed to heal the broken magic on it, however much was broken, and likely this time it would be far harder to take off. Stare knew though that she had no choice this time. Her chances of escape, of leaving this life had failed with Raevin coming to the harbour town. Her chance of ever being free from this man, this god, were dashed with the article of international slavery from Hernsford port. Rubbing at her temples she groaned inwardly at the thought of going back to that life, that way of never knowing if there was someone else watching - but it was what it was.

Rolling over, deliberately not looking at him, she shoved out her left hand.

"Just do it," she said in a gruff voice.

There was a very quiet moment of breathing before she felt the cold metal being pressed ... Into her hand. Not right onto her wrist. He was giving it to her, to place on her own.

Slowly her eyes flickered up and saw him.

He was leaning against the headboard of her bed, one leg folded beneath him, and the other outstretched. White hair lay in perfect folds around his shoulders, never seemingly needing to be brushed as normal. His vivid blue eyes gazed back at her, and they were not full of malice or anger or hatred. Rather, they were full of patience and a willingness to know, to learn.

To understand her more? Maybe.

Looking down away from him her eyes focused on the cuff in her hand. It was the same dull grey metal, tainted with black, but instead of one dim stone set deceptively into it, there were now five. They were dark and opaque, not jewels but rather rocks. They shone though, with a dull light that seemed to hold otherness within them.

For a mad moment Stare considered throwing the thing across the other side of the room. But what purpose would that ever serve? Just to irritate him more, make this whole situation worse. So she sucked in her breath, through the small holes that were her nostrils, and pushed herself to sit up. Without looking back at him she took the cuff in her right hand, and held out her left, pausing for that second.

The moment was eternity. But it was what it was, she was who she was now.

Carefully she pushed the cuff onto her wrist.

[Stare]

Immediately as soon as the cuff had settled the furthest it would go, tiny metal chains - not laces this time but chains - merged themselves from the gap that was between the ends of the cuff and wound their way through holes that had not existed before. Pulling the cuff tight around her wrist it lashed itself, pressing into feathers and flesh as it had done so before.

No sooner had it been done than the familiar heavy presence set itself against her mind, like a sudden wind that failed to die. Stare closed her eyes and inwardly sighed before opening herself once more, onto the relationship that was.

He came like a flood, like water that had been desperate to flow for a long time but had not been able to because of some crude and dangerous foe. Washing over every surface thought she had he became a fog, a thick and dense substance that settled as if home. Audibly, she heard him sigh as it flattened against her identity.

"Good," he whispered.

Good.

A shiver ran down her spine but she tried to ignore it. The feeling of depression threatened to overhwhelm her and make her feel less than she was. But she was not going to have any of it. Instead she raced to summon every memory she had of the past five days and threw them at the mist of his person. All the silence, the blindfolded darkness, the pain and the sneering of her guards. The hope of Nevin, the daring escape, the daunting propsect as the mage had murmured "his brother." All this she threw madly like a hailstorm at Vitruvion, shoving the truth in his face that he could not deny. Explaining the reasons why she was who she was, what and happened. Why she had been found that way ...

The fog drifted, lifting up to form a cohesive force, that simply watched the memories being thrown at him. Scene by scene he wordlessly saw the truth of what had occurred - the panic when she had realised she could no longer feel his presence, the fear of him that she had gone through at his possible anger, on the discovery the cuff had entirely gone. He shifted through her thoughts of escape, leaving everyone she knew and running to the hills with mild amusement, before he sank into concentration on the fight out of the captivity.

When it came to her direct combat with the mage he pushed his essence more, showing signs of strong interest. As the conversation went on, and the struggles between her and the mage, the fantastic way that Nevin had saved her life, Vitruvion kept intensely watching. The concept shifted as the mage was then questioned, and he gave up the few words that made her panic:

"M-m-my master - a being approached my master, and asked for help in getting vengeance on his brother. Said.... Said his brother was reaching too far, interfering too much in mortal affairs."

All of a sudden the presence was gone from her mind. Pulled out, like a bandage from a badly treated wound. Flickering open her eyes Stare paused, then with a rush of confusion at his exit turned, to look right at him.

He was gazing off into the distance, brow furrowed low and his chest heaving up and down. His lips were parted, his eyes wide and Stare could have imagined ... She thought she saw ... But it wasn't possible. How could the god be ... Worried?

The first instinct (and she hated herself when she realised what it was) was concern. Twisting onto her knees she properly faced Vitruvion and focused her eyes.

He was dead silent. And did not look at her.

"Ehhh ...?" She murmured. "What's ...?"

He held up a hand quickly, palm out. Automatically she fell to quiet, head tilting to the side. "What?" She mouthed.

"I am talking to Ventrua," he explained in a rapid, irritated tone.

Irritated because she was talking.

Stare grunted in the back of her throat. But did not interrupt. She had finally convinced him of the importance of the situation, and thus she was not impatient anymore.

Dullness continued for several more minutes. She found herself running an uncomfortable hand over the cuff, now back in place. Looking down at it she shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, then sank slightly. A sigh escaped the sides of her beak, as time passed and her fate and future came back to her.

"Stare."

Quickly she looked back up when her name was called. He was back looking at her, eyes focused again. His expression was serious and determined, set.

"Neither I nor Ventrua know of any brother I might have, whole or otherwise who might be here. Either the mage you met was contacted by a half-sibling of ours across the region of space, or there is another child of Ansaldo here. Without our knowledge."

Stare blinked slowly. A lump formed in her throat.

"A brother who apparently disapproves of my ... 'interferences in mortal affairs'."

He set his jaw.

"I know from Ansaldo's memories that I am the only full child. Therefore he is half mortal, therefore I can defeat him. Our purpose is to now find him, and kill him. Do you understand?"

Stare gazed at him, and blinked again. This other brother had contacts. Enough power to be able to break the magic of her cuff and possibly release her. Maybe he even had enough power, collectively with his allies that she could be free and -

"They will do exactly the same as I have done," Vitruvion replied, finishing her thoughts. "Remember my powers have grown also since we have met. They would take you, keep you and probably, in all fairness, treat you worse than I have. Your loyalty lies with me, my dear," he looked utterly serious, and his voice was sure, "Make no doubt of that. So long as you serve me well, I will treat you well."

She began to open her beak to reply but he shook his head and reached out to touch the underside of it. Gentle. Caressing. Purposeful.

"I am a god," he said quietly, his eyes full of endless stars. "And you are my eyes."

[Stare]

After perusing her memories over three more times, Vitruvion leant back against the headboard. He had not forced her to live through each thought again, only asked her to bring them to the surface as he travelled through the details, analysing each part. From the light sources, the facial expressions and the town he managed to deduce certain things about the place and the people that had taken part in the proceedings.

"I believe the men, the main guards, were from a local area, but the mage himself was distant. Human, but Aleran. And the demon he served was a high power certainly. Sitting within the higher three circles of Hadia."

Pausing he focused on various aspects - the colour of clothing, the writing on a book that her eyes had glanced over.

"Definitely local to Corone. From the lower classes, sons of bakers, smiths, but not born fighters. Learnt in the recent years only. This will give us a place to start certainly."

When he was done he drifted back inside his own head. But he did not move from where he sat. Instead he pulled Stare towards him and made her show each and every mark and scar she had received, pushing aside the feathers for some. After he had seen them all he passed a hand over each in the same pattern that he had seen, and at every point, she felt a wriggle of warmth crawl up her spine. As his hand floated over the skin knit back together, the scars healed over and even the feathers rerighted themselves. Within a few peaceful moments Stare was back to a tail full of short plumage and an entirely wound-free body.

"Far more useful to me," he intoned when done, and he relaxed a little against the bed. He gestured gently to her, raising an arm upwards.

Stare hesitated, looking at him with uncertain, uncomfortable eyes.

"My dear," he said with more force. "You have been away from me for five days. I can also feel the desperate need within you to be ... Comforted. I may not be your favoured candidate but for now I am all you have."

Dropping her eyes she looked at the covers of her bed.

"I don't need pitied, Vitruvion."

He laughed, hollowly. "Then humour the fact that I simply need to hold you. Now. To acknowledge that you really back at my side."

Uncertainly she rubbed her forearm, still imagining the folds of metal holding her body in that ridiculous, cruel pose.

"Stare?"

"Is it an order ... Sir?"

She heard a sharp breath dragging in. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his arm slowly fall, and a look of digust come to his face, with his eyes shining with disappointment.

"My dear, you never cease to disappoint me. Indeed, you cannot get away from me, but you can make your life easier."

Weight began to shift, as he slid off the bed.

"Come down stairs in the morning. Early. We will begin our planning for the return trip then."

A whole second of pause. And Stare was made to look up again at him in surprise.

"Return trip?"

"Yes of course," the good said, now standing, perfect and strong. "We will return precisely to where you went, because this is serious. In fact it might be the most serious threat to my kingdom since I was banished to this fucking planet."

[Stare]

The thought of returning to the same place that she had been left blinded and force fed for five long days made her blood run instantly cold. Her eyes widened, her breath expelled from her lungs in one quick breath and she pulled back, fear immediately lancing through her body.

"Stare, in your opinion who is more powerful - myself or some dead mage, whom you and your blood mage friend defeated?"

The question made her pause a second, but the fear still remained. Because it was instinctual. It had been felt all these days previous, as well as undying loathing.

His smirk returned. "Exactly. Me. And that is not even boasting at what I am capable of. I may not be the type of deity to hold any omnipotence, and my form may be bound in this stinking form, thus limiting how much power I can truly hold, but I am still a god. My essence is immortal, and harming me is ... Difficult." He grinned broadly and his eyes shone. "You will not be hurt."

"It's not my safety I am concerned about," she murmured. "Rather the ..."

"Memories," he finished for her. "Indeed, but it is either you return with me, or I go with Raevin. And you having actually dealt with the experience, you are the far more intelligent choice. Besides," he shrugged. "I want to look in on my brewery."

Stare breathed in but nodded a little. It was useless even trying to persuade him otherwise, she realised. His mind was quite set.

"I also want you to begin training one of the household staff in the skills you have learnt here," Vitruvion went on. "On the running of the house, the ... Management of my legal companies. It is clear that your use to me is beyond this city, and even Raevin does not meet your organisational and people skills anymore."

Never having imagined herself as a 'people person' Stare frowned in her eyes and at the corners of her mouth but shrugged once more.

"Right, fine," she agreed, "That I get but why do we need to go back to that hovel of a prison? Why not head to Alerar? Where you thought he was from?"

Vitruvion looked at her with a slight crease in his brow. "That was where he was based. The mage. And-" he stopped. "You had the book of demon text?"

Stare suddenly blinked, her train of thought cut off. Blinking a few times she realised precisely what having the book meant and she sat up sharply, turning to look around the room. Her pouch and clothing was strewn over the ground.

"Yes, of course," she said, her voice humming with realisation.

Previously, for another great friendship she had developed, Vitruvion had proved his skill at translation of alternative languages. His ability to read and write almost every tongue had enabled Stare at previous moments to understand as he translated. Without hesitation she pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the belt pouch to open it and tug out the hide-bound book. It was battered and still worn but that would not stop him from being able to read it.

Taking it right over she held it out, lifting her eyes. His hand snaked out and took the book from hers, a pause as he flipped through the pages of dark, horrible script.

"Hmm," he nodded, "Easier than Nosdyn's pamphlet."

After a brief moment he folded it closed. And he looked back up at her.

"We leave at early dawn. Show Druss where the books are, if in dire need he can have Raevin."

Stare parted her beak. "Leave ... At dawn? We don't need to plan or ... Ventrua?"

"After my sister's last demonstration here," Vitruvion curled his lip, "I do not have time for my sister. She has her business, you helped when I gave in and leant that single day. She has her uses, but will never directly obey an order like I can have you do. She will not be coming."

Raising her brows at 'obey an order like I can have you do' Stare opened her mouth to speak after him, beginning the start to tell him just where he could shove that idea - when he flashed out a hand and suddenly shut the two parts of her beak closed. Hard. So they snapped together. When she tried to open her beak it felt like the weight of two tonnes was upon it, even though a single thumb and forefinger was there.

"I don't quite think so, Stare," he smiled. "I don't think so."

[Stare]

A soft wind blew from the east, catching the very tips of her delicate feathers and sending them dancing. She breathed into the air, sighing as the memories of the past week came flooding back as clear as day. But now she stood with a god at her side, able to face any fury that came their way. Darkness was her ally in this situation, revenge and anger truths.

"Well," he said, closing the portal behind them, a swirling blue vortex similar to that which Raevin had had in a globe. "What a fair country."

She looked back at him, tilting her head, her hands clutched around her dagger hilts. "You haven't been here before?"

Vitruvion's eyes scanned across the harbour they stood in. Not quite the same one that Stare had been subject to, but close enough for knowledge. It was Radasanth, a city that clung to the sea like a lover to her heart, home of years of civil war and an unsteady government. It was lively, international and the place that they could start their investigations.

"Not for some time," he admitted, bringing his cane around to the front. "Now ..."

The jetty before them was quiet. Deliberately chosen so that two people stepping out of thin air would not cause unwanted attention. Mere gulls were their stunned audience, squawking with alarm at their sudden appearance. It made Vitruvion smile slightly and he nodded firmly before making a decision.

"I want you to find us a place to stay, my dear. An inn, a villa, somewhere to sleep for a few days rest. I presume we can travel here to the town?"

She showed him the brief memory of her going from the brewery over to the harbour town, a view of Radasanth in the distance. It caused him to nod.

"I have my own things to do."

Her brow rose, and she looked at him confused.

"You ... Have things to do in a city you have not been in for ... However many decades?"

He immediately frowned at her, both hands coming to rest on the top of his cane. Then he glanced back around, ensuring they were still alone.

"Eight," he acknowledged, and straightened. "I believe we can get out of here that way," he nodded ahead to where the wooden platforms twisted over the water.

Stare looked, then grunted.

"I guess there's no point in asking what it is you are going to do?"

"Oh you will find out I'm sure," he shrugged, "I will tell you after. It is of no great secret, for now. But you have your business."

He started forwards. Confused, the kenku followed, not eager to be too far away from the one man who could offer her every protection.

"And what happens if-"

"I will be watching, Stare," he told her. "I have that ability once more. You are in no more danger of villains than I am of dying."

[Nevin]

Slowly the man with long white hair strode through the streets of Radasanth. In his early days of coming to the planet of Althanas he had been here - in fact he had been almost everywhere civilised before settling in Beinost. However, since that single time he had not walked the streets, apart from the memories of dead ghosts and the victims of his intrusive mind readings.

Now he walked himself, dressed in fine black cotton of breeches and military style tailcoat, deep brown boots and a flourish of white shirt at his throat. His lone prop was his dark wood cane, topped with a brass owl head, that he held behind him between both hands. He was the figure of lonesome gentry and style, a person that an eager-eyed merchant might victimise. However, if one looked close and was perceptive they would see that in fact he was the one seeking, his eyes roaming for a red haired man, dressed in a drakescale chestpiece, a face and eyes quite distinctive.

Carefully Vitruvion roamed, letting the minutes slip by. Prying intrusion into the surface thoughts of easy to read minds had shown him that a similarly faced individual had come this way, and rumours of a blood cult. Though the crimson hair had not been mentioned, loose lips had mentioned those eyes and a type of being similar. Thus, over the hour or so the white-haired god had found his way over to a small certain corner of Radanath and was now close to tracking the man called Nevin, he was sure.

He stood at the key crossroads for several long minutes before the bald head passed him by. Vitruvion needed to do a reassessment, but as he focused in on the face and compared it to Stare's memories he became more certain. The lack of red hair mentioned was obvious now. Carefully Vitruvion stepped through the crowd and began to follow Nevin, grinning in his own way as he twirled his cane behind him. Waiting for the blood mage to realise he was being followed.

Nevin frowned and rubbed at the back of his neck. For the last short while, the humming upon his skin had been… stuttering? Like something was interfering or interrupting his magic, but he didn't know of anything that could achieve that. But considering that he was currently trying to track down an apparent survivor of the cult that had warped him, he wasn't about to take chances.

The currently baldheaded alchemist pushed through a small throng of people and walked over to a nearby shop, a d turned around to lean his back against it. As soon as his back was pressed against the rock, his dark eyes started scanning the crowd. He had been caught off guard once by the bounty hunters, and he did not intend to get snatched when he was this close to finding his target.

The white haired man moved into view, piercing blue eyes flickering around to flicker over the blood mage’s face. Picking out the individual features he took three final steps before he became absolutely sure that this was indeed the same person as that his kenku had befriended. Then he stopped, smile flickering and turned fully in the middle of the street to face Nevin, blinking slowly.

“I understand you are a famed alchemist? From Stonevale?” His voice was smooth, handsome and seductive - but quiet.

Dark red eyes went wide before narrowing as the alchemist tensed up. No one here should recognize him - his red hair was how most identified him. More than that, none of his clientele lived in Radasanth or made trips there that he knew of. Nevin’s skin prickled as he tensed up.

“You would be correct in that regard. If you're needing an alchemical concoction I'll have to deny you though, sir, as I do not have any of my products with me. I'm sure Radasanth has skilled alchemists of its own, one of them should be able to help you.” Nevin's tone was wary, guarded. Cobalt, this man was connected to the damn hunters, that must be why he recognized Nevin now.

Vitruvion regarded Nevin for a moment before losing his smile. As he listened to his tone he realised that this particular person - that was not weak and would take some time to successfully pierce the mind of - was extremely wary. Considering that he had experienced the same days as Stare, the god acknowledged his right to be so. Therefore he straightened and addressed the concern directly.

“I do not mean you any harm, alchemist. Nor any danger. I am a man who is merely a … fan of your abilities. Of yourself. I have searched for you in this city for more than two hours.”

Bringing his hands around to show that he held no weapons he posed before Nevin with his cane, resting its end on the ground where it belonged.

Nevin watched as the man held his hands on his cane, his body still tense as he regarded the white haired individual. As far as he knew, the only people who could know he was in Radasanth was - Stare. The cult itself couldn't know yet - there was no way word of his and her escape from their captors could have been made known to them, not yet.

So then this man was someone connected with Stare and Raevin - his friend had heard where he was supposed to be delivered, and was easily intelligent enough to figure out that was where his business would be. That thought almost made him relax his guard - would have, if not for the warning about letting Stare’s master employ him. Was this a recruitment agent sent by the mysterious Vitruvion then?

“I see. I wasn't aware I had fans, especially ones attentive enough to recognize me without my hair.”

[Nevin]

Vitruvion took a pause, letting his eyes quickly take in the alchemist again before switching back to join eye contact. He tapped an errant finger on the brass owl of his staff, considering for a moment with how to reply. At some point, he was certain, Nevin would figure out his identity. That or he would straight forward tell him.

“If one has wisdom enough then they can use other distinctive features other than the colour of hair, or eyes to find a person. I have-” he paused, thinking how best to say he had found him without relating too much of his power and abilities. “Let's say I am skilled at asking questions. Without raising too much suspicion, do not worry. You need not fear any danger from … enemies from me.”

He briefly pushed his way into Stare's mind, taking note of the various things she had found out about Nevin's cultist relations. Those who might be searching for him. Vitruvion certainly considered it in his personal interest to not lose the alchemist to any others.

“I promise I will not harm you, how is that?”

He inclined his head, slightly.

Nevin paused for a moment, staring at the man with narrowed eyes. He was at this point almost certain that this man was related in some way to Avis. She was one of the few who knew enough about him to give someone guidance on what he looked like, enough to identify him even missing one of his characteristic features. At least, the only one who was near the area.

So when the man promised no violence, Nevin nodded slightly. He would at the least hear this stranger out before he resumed his hunt for the cult. So he looked around, and spotted an open air cafe a short distance away. He inclined his head in that direction.

“Very well. Let's discuss this over some refreshments then, shall we? I'm sure you weren't looking for me for hours simply to say hello.”

Vitruvion's lips parted slightly, and his brows pushed to the sky as he looked over the cafe briefly. It was a street place, full of many different classes of people, no where near what he was used to. But the alchemist was offering time to speak to him - it meant Vitruvion could continue this interesting game for awhile longer before he decided truly if Nevin was allowed to stay in Stare's life. Letting out a slight disgruntled grunt he nodded, and turned.

“Whyever not? I guess one must act plebeian sometime,” and he let an amused glint come to his eye before heading over, his cane clacking once as he picked it up. Taking a moment to ascertain Stare was still busy and not likely to come across them suddenly he waited for Nevin to join him at the stall.

Nevin slowly walked behind the man, one hairless brow quirked in mild exasperation. The man who had found him was obviously used to more upscale situations than this, but he was the one who tracked Nevin down in the middle of the street while he was busy. At least he was willing to go along with it.

Nevin got a hot tea and moved to an empty spot, away from the others. He blew across the tea to cool it down before sipping it.

“So. Why has an agent of Vitruvion tracked me down? I'm sure he has other things on his plate than having you find me.”

Vitruvion was just dropping into the seat across from Nevin when the alchemist spoke. Immediately, upon hearing his name he glanced up, fixing him with an icy stare. His body tensed, ears picking at every syllable Nevin said as he listened, lips slowly parting.

There was a long pause as he was given various options. Amusement and then intrigue flittered through his mind. Pride, a willingness to continue this game, and decision whether to just admit it outright.

[Nevin]

Seconds passed, and then he simply gave up and relaxed, grunting with acceptance.

“Well. Direct question with a direct answer. The façade could have not continued for long.” He smiled gloriously. “Pleased make your acquaintance at last, Nevin. Stare has revealed many interesting things about you.” He laid his hands on the table, watching the human with poise and grace, ready for any action.

“I am Vitruvion.”

Nevin calmly set his drink down on the table and laced his fingers together in front of his mouth, staring for a long few moments at the white haired man across from him. This man.
This man was the one responsible for the atrocities that had happened to Avis. Not just the first time but this time as well. She had been targeted because of her connection to him, which was merely a tool some being had used to attack the person in front of him.

If Nevin hadn't gotten the chance to let out some of his aggression against their captors, he might have acted without thinking, might have attacked the man. But that would accomplish absolutely nothing - as he was now Nevin doubted he could even affect this being in the least.

So instead he picked up his tea and took another long, slow drink, and set it down on the table. Then he brought his gaze up to Vitruvion’s.

“So then. This is either a recruitment attempt, or, you are attempting to verify if what Stare told Raevin, and probably you as well, is true. I will answer whatever I can, if the latter is the case.”

Vitruvion took a moment to watch the man's expression, taking in what he could in the minute details of anger and frustration. Despite not having an easy way into Nevin's mind - not obviously at least, any magic user was relatively powerful resistant to him, regards from the gods of Althanas - he could figure out what the alchemist was thinking. The emotions at least, connected to what he knew already of Nevin.

He sat back and kept his eyes steady, knowing any attack would not harm him. Not likely. He tilted his head slightly, tapping a finger on the table as he thought how best to reply.

“No. I need neither you right now, nor confirmation of what my kenku went through. She has shown me every memory, they were perfectly believable as she cannot take them to me.” He raised a hand to tuck hair behind his ear. “I am in this city with her to actually get revenge on those who stole her from me.”

He picked up his steaming tea and drank a draught straight, no regard for the heat.

“I actually came to look for you, intrigued as to why she holds you in such high regard.” He set the mug down. “I hold to my promise that I am no threat to you.”

Nevin’s lips drew into a thin, hard line at the reminder of what had happened to Stare. It was a reassurance that this… man… didn’t need him at the moment, but the fact that he could see her memories was aggravating. Still, there was nothing that could be done for it at the moment. Instead he nodded once, abruptly.

“I know you probably don't need to hear this to do it, but I hope you make them -suffer-. Each and every one of the mongrels that were involved in taking her. If I wasn't involved in my own hunt for the ones who decided I would make a good target, I would happily join you in exterminating them with prejudice.” The alchemist leaned back in his seat,

“And as for why she holds me in high regards, I could not answer that, for I do not know it. I believe my soul is what interested her at first with the damage done to it that she could see. Past that, you probably have a better idea than I do.” His shirt rippled as he shrugged.

[Nevin]

Verging on the light side of green, if you wish to know. A neutral person, with good.” Vitruvion smiled, leaning back, more comfortable. “That is the colour of your soul and your lines of power are blood red, your chakras crimson, your heart pure white. That is what my Stare sees.” He crossed his legs, and went on.

“As to suffering, I'm very skilled in that sort of thing.” He gave a convincing, bloodthirsty grin. “I take care of what is mine, despite what others think of me, and one of my prized possessions is Stare. She, or Raevin, for instance, gets harmed, people die. It is simple mathematics.”

He took another drink of his tea, keeping his eyes on Nevin, gauging his reactions. His eyes continued to shine with a less than decent-hearted light.

“So you need not fear there, alchemist.”

Nevin had listened quietly as Vitruvion listed colors at him. He knew they had import - that he was neutral with tendencies towards good made sense, and his power being crimson made… Well, it was pretty obvious to him, and probably to the other entity as well it was the last that confused him, what did it mean that his heart was pure white? His honesty? But Nevin had secrets and he normally did his best to keep them. Perhaps something else?

No matter, not now. For now, he nodded once at Vitruvion’s answer. While he would never be able to think as Vitruvion did, consider another living being as nothing more than a prized possession, Nevin did agree with the sentiment of protecting what was dear to oneself. He might find several of the white haired man’s actions reprehensible, incomprehensible, the Alchemist could, on this matter, agree with the other individual.

“Good. Scum like that does not deserve to breathe without pain, or breathe for that much longer at all.”

“Indeed,” Vitruvion directly agreed, leaning back. “They do not. They-”

He paused as he felt Stare very obviously open herself up, throwing her awareness to the ether.

What? he asked.

Found both somewhere to stay and a trail, she told him, an image of a grand hotel before her. It seemed fine enough. Will it do?

Vitruvion blinked a few moments then replied. Yes. Come join me here. I have found someone you might want to see.

He sent her a very clear image of a bald Nevin sitting before him. Her reply was almost instant.

Shit. You bastard. You fucking- And there was the sound of her running. He sent her very direct and simply directions, his lips pulling into a proud smirk, simply enjoying his placement of pieces.

“Stare is coming now,” he told Nevin, eyes focusing back on him, the grin clear on his face. “While she runs … tell me how is your own investigation going?”

Nevin blinked once at that rather innocuous statement followed by a question. Whatever byplay had just gone on was apparently entirely mental, as Vitruvion had done nothing more than grin mischievously after blinking. Still, he had no reason not to answer - Avis would likely get the information through their link, and if not the Alchemist had no problem with telling her directly.

“I have, I believe, narrowed it down to a rather specific region in the slums of this city. The cult I am after would find it easiest to gather disillusioned people from districts like that, and at this point it is merely a matter of tracking them down in specific. I know they're here in this city - as soon as I got inside the walls I could feel their magic at work. The slums are where the feel is the strongest - but I came out this way tracking an errant source. It has gone now though, and right now I…. Well, the sensations come and go. Something seems to be either distracting my magic, or interfering with it.” He shrugged and took another sip of his decidedly bland tea. The man wished it was better, but he wasn't about to go creating ghosts in other areas of the city to chase just so he could have a good drink.

Vitruvion concentrated on Stare feverishly running for another moment before looking back at Nevin. He ran a hand down the edge of the cup, thinking for a moment about what he knew of blood mages. Focusing briefly on what he could feel around him the god looked into his own version of Stare's aura sight, except it was far more powerful and clear. There was a distinctive pulsing of energy he found, flowing thickly like blood. It was uncharming, smelt of iron and copper and left a foul taste in his mouth.

“Indeed,” he paused for a moment before raising a finger and pointing in the direction that the magic felt strongest from. Then he let his hand fall back to the table. “I have had rare experience with mages of your type but yes. There is. Start there,” he jabbed the finger again.

He lost his smile then, simply willing to wait for her to come to them.

Nevin had raised an eyeridge as the entity in front of him closed his eyes and focused. A distinctly unpleasant look crossed his face, like someone sucking on an overly tart fruit, or smelling something foul. Then he raised one hand and pointed in the direction of the slums that Nevin had been investigating.

It was a confirmation of what he already suspected - but it also made certain thoughts he had about the nature of the man in front of him more pronounced. Nevin could detect it because of his similar magic, a faint tremor that hummed in his skin. But this man, this being, had closed his eyes and did nothing for a moment, before pinpointing it as well as Nevin himself had. He sipped his tea as he pondered the man in front of him, and waited for his friend to arrive.

[Nevin]

As the alchemist fell to silence, Vitruvion did nothing. The smile that had been playing on his lips disappeared, and instead he let the quiet allow him to build up his powers. If Nevin was wanting to extend an awkward moment, the noble was willing to let it happen as he began to pry at the borders of Nevin's mind. With no knowledge of how exactly the natural protection worked for each individual born under the Althanas gods’ Vitruvion had to work on each as a case by case basis. A blood mage was one mind he had never been privy to and thus the interest came to him, so he let his presence reign. He leant back and concentrated on assessing every border that was at Nevin's mind, trying to gain a clue as to how to the alchemist worked, what precisely it meant to have another soul attached to yours, what weaknesses he might have besides the obvious …

“Good tea,” he commented, distracting both himself and Nevin. “Interesting place, this commoner cafe.”

He felt Stare skimming around a corner, coming within a minute or so’s run.

Nevin hid a frown behind his tea cup as he felt his magic grow agitated, the choir upon his skin and in his soul sounding angry, frightened, almost afraid. But defiant - even if he couldn't tell what was rousing his soul and magic in anger. He looked around, growing mildly agitated - was this his magic reacting to the cult he was hunting? Or was the threat closer to him? Before he could raise the question -

“Good tea.” And just like that the anger in his chorus of magic was gone returning to the low hum that pervaded it in this city. Nevin frowned and looked down at his poor excuse for tea, then to Vitruvion’s. He could see a difference in quality between what they had received, and his irritation deepened. Blasted pretty boy had gotten better quality tea than he had. It was because he had shaved his head, wasn't it?

Out of the corner of his eye Nevin saw rapid movement coming in their direction, and he half-stood, turning to face it. The motion resolved into Stare, charging down the street in their direction, and Nevin raised one hand to greet her -

“You absolute, fucking bastard.”

Vitruvion just laughed, mocking amusement clear in his melodic tones. Moving right to the corner of the bench he sat on he made room for her, but she made no gesture to sit. Instead her furious eyes, full of anger and frustration, glared at him for a moment, before she looked over to Nevin. She fought with herself for a while, wanting to swear more before she nodded at him and mouthed.

“Sorry.”

Her eyes were still full of fury but she had a glint of happiness at seeing her friend. Giving a sideways glance to Vitruvion she ducked in and gave Nevin a very brief and sudden hug before moving away, whispering another apology close to his ear.

Nevin had been mildly surprised at the venom in Stare’s voice as she rushed in and quickly began checking him over, her eyes darting across his body. The light, sardonic amusement in the other man’s laugh irritated him but he suppressed it for now, instead focusing his attention on Stare.

She looked good - better even than he had seen her back in Stonevale. There was no sign of the wounds that she had suffered in that Cobalt-taken cell, her plumage bright and healthy once more. But as he was checking her out, he was absolutely floored in shock at the sudden impetuous hug that she gave him - after the flinch and her strange stillness the two times he had touched her while they were escaping he had thought she wouldn't be able to stand touching him of her own volition, so the affectionate gesture stunned him, and it wasn't until after she had broken the gesture and he had slid aside to offer room next to him as well, that his brain resumed functioning properly.

Stare looked at him a moment, her emotions steadily softening as she kept her attention on him. As he slid aside she was caught in a moment of indecision, a myriad of quickly altering feelings making her confused and addled. Her beak parted and she blinked a few times as Vitruvion's laughter died away, her eyes flickering between the space beside her friend and the space beside her master.

One look at Vitruvion told her what to do. He even sent her an image of a raised eyebrow that did not appear on his actual face. The question was ultimately where her loyalty lay, though she doubted he would be furious long if she sat by Nevin. Despite this, she moved moodily to drop into the seat right beside Vitruvion so she was sitting across from Nevin, her hands light fists.

An awkward silence eschewed as she paused without real knowledge of what to say. Her eyes glanced over to the white-haired noble, who was now professionally lounging and smiling.

“Say what you will, my dear. Whatever you would speak even if I was not here I would hear.”

[Nevin]

She grunted and looked back at Nevin. “Hi,” she said in a low voice. “Eh … how are you?”

Nevin rubbed a hand across his scalp as he looked over at his friend. It was heartening to see her in such a better condition, even if it did come with the burden of Vitruvion’s presence. Now that his brain wasn't stalling at the sudden contact, he looked her over again to confirm what he had seen before.

She was definitely healed, at least to outward appearances. Her feathers had regained their lustre, and her eyes were bright and shining, and her hands were curled into light fists. He wondered absently why that was as his eyes paused for a moment on the cuff that was secured around her wrist again. For a moment only, white hot rage shot through him - she had been free of that humiliation - but he shoved that thought and the emotion attached to it away. Instead he gave her a light smile.

“I am… Not fully healed but I am in better condition. I'm quite glad to see that you've recovered, Stare. I could do without the humming across my skin that won't stop, but until I deal with the individuals who sought to have me delivered to them I doubt that will happen.” One shoulder twisted in a shrug.

“I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon, though as I said I am most certainly glad to. I would join you on your hunt, but if I tarry too long I have no idea what the cult will do. However I doubt a few minutes in either direction will change things.” He grinned.

Blinking a little she listened to Nevin, then shrugged. “After we left you Raevin and I went straight back to Beinost. I was in a state and he - Vitruvion -” she glanced uncertainly to the god, and he just gestured a couple of fingers for her to keep on going. “Healed me, so that's that …” she blinked a few times, trying to establish her train of thought again amongst the emotions. “Eh, yeah. I would help you too but we have our own … Stuff. Obviously.”

She realised her speech was becoming awkward and stuttering so she grimaced, and then just went on, focusing as if Vitruvion wasn't even there. “I'll let you know if we find anything that might be useful to you. There might be-” she looked suddenly over to Vitruvion, “Wait. Do you have the book?”

There was a pause as the man blinked, and frowned a little, before reaching into his pocket and drawing out the demon book that they had found in the desk at the cells, locked away. Very lightly he placed it on the table and pushed it towards Nevin, his hand leaving it almost eagerly.

“Have it, why don't you, alchemist,” he said with a disgusted curl of his lip. “I'd rather be away from such a thing, and I already have a copy of my transcript.”

“There's a full translation into common in there too,” Stare said, eyes bright suddenly. “You might find more use of it.”

Nevin raised an eyebrow and spun the book around, gloved fingers dancing across the surface as he opened it up and glanced inside. The original words, still extant in the pages, sent shudders of revulsion down his spine, and he couldn't quite blame Vitruvion for wanting to be away from it. However there was something a bit strange in the man’s seeming rush to stop touching the Demonic artifact. Another note, filed away in Nevin’s mental lexicon.

The translated words though, those were… Interesting. There were rituals inscribed in the book, offerings to the Demonic benefactor for power, which Nevin already knew he would discard out of hand. There was also a small lexicon of some ritual ingredients that were more difficult to find, or to understand what they did. It was definitely a useful thing to have, and as he closed it back up Nevin nodded his thanks to Stare.

“There do seem to be some things in here that I might be able to use, ingredient descriptions and the like that are rarely seen. I'd have to read it through fully to be sure. At least this Cobalt-taken thing doesn't require a direct Demonic patron to use everything inside the pages. I do not intend on selling my soul - not when we saw what happened when the mage let slip one thing.” The demon had barely been present, or it hadn't been present anywhere but the mage’s mind. And yet it had still killed the mage with almost disgusting ease.

No, one of the first things Nevin would be finding would be a way of protecting himself from Demonic influences.

“Please don't sell your soul,” Stare replied, smiling in her eyes. “That wouldn't be … pleasant. Not with a demon. They're … demonic forces and possessions and they're magic is incredibly dark and powerful.” She paused, looking down at the book, then back up to him. “You're a better person than that I think.”

She took a moment to pause and then collate her thoughts right now. “I know that. I hope it can help you really. Are you close with your … quest?”

There was a light chink as Vitruvion took up his cup and drank the last of his tea in a steady gulp. The reminder that he was there, watching made Stare pause again and run a finger uneasily through her feathers at her arm.

Her confidence in his being a better person than someone who would sell his soul made something warm coil up in Nevin’s stomach, the sensation entirely pleasant, and a nice distraction from the ever present humming that the blood magic being practiced in this city was causing on his skin. Avis was, somewhat certainly at this point, a friend who did not care that his art was somewhat maligned.

And her concern was touching as well - her admonishment against Demonic contracts was gentle, nothing like the fiery diatribes against magic that had filled one of his childhoods. So when Vitruvion, apparently reminding her of his presence set his cup down a little more heavily than necessary, Nevin shot her a smile before schooling his face once more.

“I believe that I am. I have tracked them down to the slums, and Vitruvion himself confirms that in that direction is something particularly vile. I've no doubt that someone attached to that Crimson-accursed cult is hiding here. Finding them at this point will be a matter of leg work and dedication - and I don't intend to rest until they are dealt with. Just as you, no doubt, intend to deal with your own quarry.” As he spoke Nevin had nodded towards Vitruvion when he spoke the man’s name, and then inclined his head in the direction that the white haired man had pointed. A vicious, angry grin devoid of happiness had slipped into his lips as he finished speaking, though he let it fade into a neutral expression as he picked up his tea to finish the beverage.


Stare blinked a few times as she heard the darker notes. A grim feeling settled into her stomach with the knowledge that Vitruvion would like that part of Nevin, and be enraptured by it. However, that thought led to a lengthy silence before she could think of anything else to say.

“Right, if that is it,” Vitruvion sat up suddenly and poised with his cane between his knees. “I would say, my dear, that we will go now.” He offered Nevin a very brief smile before using the closest hand to Stare to nudge at her shoulder.

Barely did her shoulder shift and she turned her head to look right at him. “You're a dickhead.”

He smiled wonderfully back at her. “And you're a bitch. Now. Move.” The last word was clearly an order.

As he nudged her again she dragged in a breath before begrudgingly getting to her feet. “I guess, bye Nevin,” she said, looking back to the alchemist. “We'll … see each other soon. We're staying at the Radasanth Royal inn.”



Nevin stood up then, and wrapped her shoulders in a brief hug before stepping back and bowing to Vitruvion.

“Stare. I'll try to find you after I deal with my current ghost. Keep safe until then. Vitruvion…. It was an experience meeting you.” He gave his friend another parting smile before flipping his hood up onto his head and sliding into the crowd, melting out of sight as he resumed his hunt for the cultists.

There was silence between the pair. Then Vitruvion snorted in laughter. “An 'experience.’ Of course.” Then calmly he placed a hand on Stare's shoulder and encouraged her to turn the direction they were destined to head.

[Stare]

"Why the fuck did you have to go do that?" she asked under her breath, anger rushing back as they strode away. "He's my friend not one of your ... Projects."

"I was interested in him," Vitruvion replied, rather openly and honestly, "And you think of him so often. It was only my right to find out why."

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms as they walked, her eyes scanning the people briefly they passed. It was only very fast as a look, for Vitruvion walked always with a purposeful gait, but she was surprised at the vast amount of neutral-spirited individuals there were. Stare kept her aura sight on as they rushed away from the cafe and Nevin, the city waiting.

"I see you haven't told him about our arrangement," Vitruvion said softly as he twisted around a corner.

"Arrangement?" She asked, confused.

He flashed her an image of the document that she had torn, that which tied her to Vitruvion in more ways than one. Stare stumbled slightly with the reminder of it and it made her blood run cold.

We agreed it was to remain a secret, she said to him clearly in her mind. Nevin would be the last person I want knowing. A panic suddenly settled inside her. Wait, did you tell him?

He let the uneasiness consume her for a single, cruel second before he answered. I did not. You have not disappointed me that much as yet. I simply thought that as you told him about your cuff ...

She breathed in tight. Being a fucking slave is far more detrimental to my identity, on a personal level, thanks.

Vitruvion raised his brows a little, That is how you see it. I just see me protecting what was already mine by international law. That and it was for your safety. He straightened and struck out with his cane to make his stride more powerful in its view. This I have told you many times before. I have not treated you as society would expect me to. You are paid when I do not need to. Deal with the life you have, Stare, I need you.

Her discomfort reigned but it was a steady one now, that she knew well. She hugged herself tighter as they wound their way through the streets, eyes glancing around once more. Here she was, a kenku following the direct son of the being who had created her race, created her, in far better shape than she had been in a long time. Yes Vitruvion was far from perfect, but he had power and he had knowledge. He did pay her well, and he did trust her to some extent, which was nice, it was just difficult in the long term acknowledging exactly who she was working for and under what circumstances her employment fell. Vitruvion could, by some laws, treat her as he wanted - lock her up, rape her, abuse her - but he didn't. He had good qualities amongst his very dark ones, and Stare had to admit them as lights in the great shadow she lived in.

They got to the grand hotel that she had found, and Vitruvion glanced at the title - 'Radasanth Royal' - before heading in. He passed under the row of ten white arches that made the front of the building, before heading straight through the front door.

The first room was a great, panelled and tiled hall, with a great gilt bar open upon it. Few patrons lounged in sumptuous armchairs, all each as noble looking as Vitruvion.

Clack, clack. He strode straight for the bar. A stunning woman smiled at him as he stopped before her and gestured behind him at Stare.

"My servant here made a reservation for us."

The word 'servant' made Stare pause for a moment and blink, as she had never thought of it that way. But then she considered it and grunted to herself quietly, at least preferring it to 'slave'. She was employed by him, and even though her official title was his 'steward,' 'servant' also worked. Money was exchanged for services rendered.

"Yes of course," the woman looked at Stare and acknowledged her with an elegant flash of teeth. "Sir Elssmith, of course. It is an honour sir. Your servant was shown the rooms before and can take you there again."

And she held out a large, iron key. Vitruvion opened his palm and she dropped it in, before dipping down into a curtsey. He gave a short nod before twisting around and raising an eyebrow at Stare. Sucking her breath in she pointed to a door at the back of the room and quickly started there.

"Servant," she tested in a whisper.

"Indeed," Vitruvion murmured back.

She sucked in her breath and started ascending the stairs, thinking about Nevin and how they had left him. The bald man has simply merged into the crowd, becoming another individual in the many that Vitruvion had deliberately sought out. It was partly to spite her, she was sure, but also likely true that he did it to satiate his own curiousity. If she had known what he was doing she likely would have tried to stop him. As Vitruvion had said it was part of his right, and part of his natural style to find out what Nevin was like for his own.

They came to a small corridor, and then an oak door that Stare gestured to. Vitruvion produced the key in his hand and set it against the lock. When it opened a suite of bright rooms lay before them - an open small lounge with three armchairs and it's own fireplace, that led into a large bedroom that could be spied. He strode in with eyebrows raised, looking at the cream and yellow gold colour.

From the grand bedroom was another room that served as a small closet. And then off from that itself was a fourth and final room, with was tiny and bore a simple single bed along with a tiny cabinet. Already in the larger bedroom and in the smaller were two bags neatly placed - the memory of Stare's presence here already.

"Hmm, it'll do," Vitruvion said. "Might be worth buying a house in this city though, if the brewery proves fruitful." He nodded a few times at the furniture, then strode to go sink onto the larger bed.

[Stare]

Evening came went, a time of pouring over precise maps and dinner brought into the room. Vitruvion curled his lip as a maid opened the door without knocking and just started in with a room tray. It took Stare to sigh and hurry forwards to take it from her to spare the girl the god's annoyance. From there they found good food fit for them both, though the presentation between the two dishes made it clear whose was supposed to be whose.

Stare ate her more meagre meal with a grunt, the beauty of being a kenku allowing her the ability to find sustenance in anything, really. Therefore she ate fast and finished before he did, watching across the room as he savoured every morsel.

"Tomorrow we go back to where you were kept," he announced, as night darkness flooded the room from the large window in the front room.

Stare nodded as she got up to clear the dishes, then head into the smaller room.

"Hmm, no." Vitruvion suddenly said.

Vaguely surprised, and admittedly confused, she looked at him. He was shaking his head, and getting up slowly. Carefully he began to undo the buttons of his jacket.

"That piece of a failure they call a bed through there would do you, but you are better off in there, wth me," he nodded at the main bed.

He brows rose and she stared, immediately recoiling inwards and hugging her body.

He shook his head, snorting with amusement. "No, I do not require sex, Stare,. In fact I don't want that from you. I promise not to seek it of you again. But I require company, and you are not a stranger to this arrangement before."

Her breath escaped from her lungs, "... But ..."

Vitruvion turned his back to her and simply started to undress to his under-trousers ignoring her completely now. Uneasily she huffed through her nostrils, clacked her tongue against the inside of her mouth and stood there for some time. Agitated she watched as he stripped down to his bare, sculpted chest and he moved into the bed, throwing back the covers with a single movement. As he climbed into the duvet he looked at her and then chuckled at her expression.

"For Ansaldo's sake, girl. Get in and be quiet about it."

Using his father's name as a curse meant he was serious. Desire for company or otherwise Stare did not want to share a bed with him that night considering the way he had treated Nevin, but he was right - she was not a stranger to it. Uncomfortably she shrugged off her corded belt, and shifted slowly out of her outer tunic before standing there, gazing at him for a final time.

He snuggled deeper into the covers and elegantly threw open the side closer to her. Indeed, the plush interior was far more inviting than the aged cotton sheets of the other room. Grunting quietly sheoved over, dropping her gaze and willingly sliding into the bed. There were a few moments only before his heat was at her back and an arm slid around her form, pulling her closer.

"You are mine, make no doubt ever of that, my dear," he whispered by her ear.

She closed her eyes and curled into a lose foetal position.

"Yes, my lord," she mockingly replied. "You know, anyone else would find this whole picture creepy."

And he grinned, moving his form to gently cuddle.

"I'm not everyone, am I now?"

And she rolled her eyes before she closed them. His smile grew.

"Goodnight, Stare," he said.

But she was already drifting.

[Stare]

A dark figure stood on a light hill, striding in the bathing light of dawn. Dressed in complete black he had the resemblance of a reaper with a stream of white hair billowing behind him. Like death's companion a crow woman came after, her face obscured by a long grey mask. Silent, unwanted, they walked, up to the door set into the hillside.

Without speaking the leading figure moved to the door and set a hand on it. He paused, before grasping a handle pulling it open. Hinges ripped with the sound of ugly grating, and he threw the wood to the side, letting it be little more than a wreck. Tilting his head around he waited for the kenku to catch up before ducking his head and going into the hill itself, a smile upon his lips.

There was a cry, ragged and shocked. Immediately Stare grabbed her two daggers from her belt and moved into a fluid pace, kicking her awareness into gear. Easily she slid around Vitruvion as he kept striding, heading in and through, swirling in a dervish of black. An awkward and uncertain being was stumbling at them, sword drawn out and pointed. Still Vitruvion strode as he had done before, his cane clacking like nothing else was happening. But Stare was moving. By the time the man had grunted his way a quarter of the way down the corridor she was at him, slapping aside his blade with one of hers, then jabbing his throat with the other.

Blood spilled, red and thick. It stained down her plynt dagger, running in the filler as the man collapsed as a corpse and she took back her blades. She blinked, watching his fall and breathed in slow, waiting for the clack-clack to catch up with her. Catching up with her breath she wiped the dripping blood on her tunic as he came a halt behind her.

"One," he counted. "Keep your blades drawn."

She nodded, her breath coming back to normal, before she started off again, her eyes round and dark. Scanning the area she saw corridor that dipped down the stairs and away, and slipped into her sight of heat. There were no obvious bodies coming up the steps, but there was a warmer varient coming from below them. She blinked, glanced back to Vitruvion who merely looked at her, his whole body now tense, but still elegantly poised.

They're still here, she clear in her mind. I didn't think ...

There is a define intelligent, authoritative power here, he replied calmly, It was clear from your memories last time. Carefully she started up the stone stairs as he went on. This facility is far too prepared, useful and tactical to abandon lightly.

Slowly she nodded and kept herself prepared, able to act in the slightest sign of attack. Her heart hammered as she turned around the corner of the steps, a light source becoming clear ahead, warm bodies likely.

The walls were cold, as ugly as she remembered. She kept going, onwards but with no need to turn around and check if Vitruvion was there - for the breath on the back of her neck told her she was. As her feathers began to rustle with a quiet breeze snaking its way through the passages, she found herself coming eye sight with the top of the stairs, and a long, fine corridor, with one passageway off.

Straight ahead is the room that the mage was in, she said.

Be ready. Vitruvion said, And duck when I tell you to.

She frowned but got into a ready crouch and bared herself for what might come. Slowly they went as a pair, her like the foreshadowing and him the main course. Daggers eager she went as quiet as she could into the tunnel that was lit by bracketed torches.

Nothing stirred. Thus, onwards they went, deeper, further. The corridor to the side came up and Stare ducked against the wall - before very slowly peeking around.

Three men dressed in rough hide hauberks, in a long corridor. Each with a sword at his side, and all sitting on stools in the middle of it all, laughing to one another. A series of doors ran down one side of the space, ones that she knew were rudimentary bedrooms, and a store room. They did not seem to notice her, engrossed as they were in something in between them, that included a handful of cards each.

Slowly she leant back, twisting around to find herself eye to eye with Vitruvion. He stood about a metre away, one hand grasping the head of his cane tightly. If it was anything like the one he had six months ago, Stare knew that it probably had a blade inside. He seemed thoughtful, though stood with a certain amount of tension. There was a pause of silence between them.

Them first, Vitruvion said into her mind. Anyone that might be in the mage's room will likely call them in some way when we attack them.

Slowly Stare nodded and geared herself. Breathing in she shifted her hands around her dagger hilts before turning all the way back around to face the corridor again.

Wait ... the god paused, and then grinned. Ah yes, I thought I could now. I can teleport you straight between them, Stare. Without needing to move myself.

Her head tilted back slightly and she eyed him. Now?

Now, indeed, he inclined his head. I could not teleport others before, just enchant items to do so - but it seems I can with you. Now anyway.

[Stare]

Pop.

Three faces, going from enchanted to utterly stunned. Brown hair, black hair and fair, soon to be speckled with blood. Eyes went wide, one pair of hands opened to drop the cards right to the floor that had been being played with. Not one of them clearly had expected the arrival of a kenku elegantly arriving without announcement between them.

Heading right for the one who had dropped his cards first, Stare brought up her two daggers in swift sucfession, letting out a loud claw as she did. With the element of surprise as her ally she managed to dispatch the first life quick, and easy. A simple upthrust, down-sweep of both daggers tore through his chest and then his abdomen. Immediately blood spurted and immediately he was dead, his armour nowhere near enough to protect him from a crow woman who was amplified by the close proximity of her god.

"AHH, you-"

Twirling around she was met with a large sword being brought up. A clatter and that man was standing, his stool falling from beneath him. Stare tried to use her mythril knife to stab but the sword was longer and had a brief second on her. It dodged around her attempted hits, shortly joined by the second ringing of steel.

She twisted her head and threw the idea of sorrow deftly at the noise. With the need of a few seconds before she ended the one who had drawn his sword, she intended to cripple that fighter by causing physical pain to the first piece of anatomy. Coming face to face with no part of a physical body, but a large swinging hunk of metal it took the most passive of her abilities - her supernatural speed - to enable her to dodge.

"HELP!" one voice cried. "HELP!"

"Fuck," Stare bounded all the way back, moving right back to get away from both ready men, clambering over the body of their fallen comrade with a scurry of her clawed feet.

There was a crash as a secondary door opened, back from where Vitruvion was. Stare hoped that the god was not expecting her to take care of the worry too, as she threw a second painful stare at the victim before.

This time it seemed to have an effect. Where her eyes landed was the man's shoulder and he let out a loud howl, moving to clutch at it. The other gasped and seemed more determined to get to her, moving a foot on the dead one to get to her. Letting out the loudest caw she knew Stare dodged most of an uppercut, recieving a small flesh wound on her arm. At the same time a series of footsteps could coming closer.

More enemies. A longer time for combat.

Deliberately stepping between the next thrust Stare became lucky and managed to get a hit into the stomach. Then the other one, who had been suffering from the invisible pain, gathered himself and atracked from the other side. Stare called out loud, crying, "Others!" Before she rammed her shoulder into his.

Down they fell together, in a tangle of claws and legs and feathers and flesh. Meanwhile the one stabbed in the stomach was rapidly losing life and the noise from up the corridor ... Well it seemed to be contained, turning into a cacophony of grunts, swears and hisses. Stare instead focused her attention on the one before her - beneath her now. She grappled with him, struggling to meet eyes with him to force a nightmarish memory to be relieved.

But time. Three seconds is an age in the art of combat, and it was almost four when she gave up and just threw her utter disgust at his face. All the time they had been grinding blade on blade, struggling strength per strength, both covered in light nicks where the blades had just touched skin. Yet Stare grew frustrated, and thus she ground her eyes onto what empty flesh she could find, at the neck and focused. Rapidly the skin there began to literally die, the outer layers falling away to reveal a horrid black mess underneath.

"Ffuuuckkk!" The man screamed. "What are you? What the fuck are you?"

The pain caused enough pause in his fight. Stare managed to use her plynt dagger to stab him in the eye, then the cheek, then the neck. Red ran, his shouts fell to nothing, and all she was left with was the one she had stabbed in the stomach. He at least seemed still alive as he breathed shakily, grasping at his abdomen that blood was soaking from.

Then the reminder of the other. A large amount of scuffling noise. And yells and cries of pain.

Stare looked up to see a further three men. Two were corpses already, lying on the floor. The last was kneeling, with his back bent horribly backwards, as he began to scream for dire agony. Above him the figure of Vitruvion loomed, drops of blood slowly falling from a long, thin, golden-coloured stiletto. His other hand was before him, palm flat and directed at the man as a pale white light issued forth.

Her beak partly slightly as she watched the man continue to curve back, his screeches suddenly inclining to utter excruciation. Submitting to temption Stare slipped into her aura sight. There was Vitruvion, a man flowing with mountains of white hot, divine energy. His aura, a strong plum colour, glowed dissimilarly to the dark green of the man beneath him, who had just a glimmer of black demonic power. It made sense that Vitruvion would hate him so, and cause him to forcefully bend backwards, as the hairlines of power flowing from his palm indicated. Another line was touching the man's head, right to his third eye chakra that was blossoming with activity.

Suddenly the man gasped and froze ... Then fell to the side. Vitruvion lowered his hand, the light there fading, but not entirely disappearing. As he did he paused, then his eyes rose to meet Stare's, two vivid burning white lights in a halo of red-purple.

The god's lips parted, and he breathed slow. Then he held out his knife, pointing it straight at her.

[Stare]

With the bloody knife he gestured, gliding down to point until it came to rest on the stomach-stabbed man, who had actually gained some face. Starr huffed, but took the two strides over to end that success. Swiftly, she drew a foot claw along his throat. It was a ragged, horrid cut, but it bit enough to make him choke on his own blood.

"Go down to the cells below," Vitruvion said, his voice not changing from a sickly, disgusted tone. His eyes went back to the collapsed man in front of him. "Bring me anyone you find there, and find me a set of those manacles you had on here. Something close anyway."

Stare blinked and opened her beak to reply, and Vitruvion shrugged. "I must stay incase this mage manages to come awake. Clearly ... Demonic power, yes?" He asked her. "Well then, we do not know the extent to which his power negates mine. So get me what you can. I will be in that pity of an office."

"Guards?" She asked quietly.

"Kill any more you find," the god nodded. Then he paused, raising an eyebrow as she stood still, and did not move yet. "Stare, we are in combat. Every single one of those instructions was an order. Now get to it before ... Well. Now." and he spat the last word, clearly annoyed. Definitely not in the mood, and a pressure began to press at her mind.

Swirling, Stare muttered beneath her breath, and bent briefly to hunt for and find a set of keys on one of the dead guards. It would likely help her. Then she began to head away. Keeping her head down she rapidly moved away from Vitruvion and the corpses, utterly despising it every time he used the term 'order'. It just reminded her that she was truly under him, and would never get away.

Locking her jaw she walked away, heading to the stairs that stood at the end of her corridor. Passing the store room at the end also, she gave it a heat-sight glance before finding no one, unless they were hiding, within. Not wanting to risk Vitruvion's impatience just in this moment of tension. Steadily she moved down the stairs, and it was clear as she did that all the people that they had killed were in fact all that were in here. Any more would have run up to greet them, with blades pointed at them.

Instead Stare found an empty tunnel before her, with one shut cell door and one broken one. Still not fixed. Ice filled her veins as she remembered this place and she recoiled, instantly feeling sick this her stomach.

Five days here. Bound, tightly and unyielding. Blinded with fabric and a chain across her eyes. Force fed, beaten, and at one point, she was not certain ...

Dragged from the cell and dumped, onto the stairs flat first. Unable to see and move she had but had her ears and sixth sense to let her know what was happening. Silence for a while, then a grunt as a man kicked her in the side, sending her sprawling. Then her hips were roughly grabbed, her legs parted and - and the honour of her body was taken not for the first time in her life. First Vitruvion himself, then what other asshole had been here. Stealing her right to her body and dignity from her with cruelty, no care, and spite.

She hoped the guard who did it was amongst her counted dead.

With a shaking hand she went to the first door and tried it, finding it locked. A very brief glance within revealed that there was, in fact, someone right inside. A small being, curled up tight in a corner, feeling very much like the person deep inside of Stare.

Looking across she saw that actually the other cell was occupied also, though the person was bound against the wall with manacles, hands high in the air. It was likely to keep them there because of the broken door. Stare's eyes flickered from one to the other. She saw both were rigid, panic clear on their faces in the dim light. It was likely that they could not see her. She also did not know if they had spoken to one another at all.

Slipping into the aura sight she saw that the first person in the locked cell was female. An elf, by all likely standards by her pointed ears just poking through long raven hair. At the age of forty she was young for an elf, and seemed to have good intentions for her aura was a soft lime green. She had some magic, but it was cut off apparently from use. Her chakras flowed with a strange intense golden hue, but nothing Stare had properly come across. Apparently though it served her no use here, for she had not escaped under her own will. Stare paused, before switching over the other man and saw the pounding black heart first. Telling her he was a dishonest man.

Her heart began to thump and she looked at him harder, and found his aura to be a defiant dirty brown. That pointed to a rebellious nature, but of good intent. He also was apparently human, and had a similar forty one years to his belt. His chakras did not thrum with any magic, however Stare was concerned deeply with that black heart. The edges were a soft white, and so there was some form of honesty, somewhere, but exactly what she could not say.

[Stare]

... Sir, she growled into her mouth, throwing him the information. As well as the memories from down here, just so he knew what it was like.

I prefer 'my lord's if you must know, Stare. Get the elf ... But get the man also but cuff them both. I will not risk anything. And remember a set for our friend.

He said nothing more, and she continued to throw the emotions at the forefront of her mind.

Cuff them? I thought we were rescuing them.

Stare, shut the fuck up and get on with it. We do not have the time for to question me right now. She caught a glimpse of him rifling through a drawer full of papers. So he was in the office space already. Well? Get me my prisoners!

She flinched at the word, and ducked her head. Knowing his patience was waning and she could very easily make up the fourth prisoner in a matter of moments she took up the keys that she had grabbed from one of the corpses, and used it to open the door. Immediately she spied the elf sitting up, huge eyes wide and staring from the same darkness that Stare had been in not a few days prior.

Stare stepped in, knowing she looked awful drenched in blood. Simply she looked at the girl dully and didn't bother to drop the one knife she had still in hand. Instead she paused and said in a low voice:

"My employer and I just killed all the guards. I don't know why you are in here though, so I am going to have to ask you both to submit being cuffed ... It will make it easier."

The elf blinked a few times and let out a soft groan before just nodding and looking down.

"Front or back?" She asked.

Honest surprise flashed through Stare's eyes. She gave a quick glance to the man strung up at the wall. It was likely that he had heard, but his stance did not indicate he had listened. His eyes were set straight forwards.

"Him?" Stare gestured with her knife at the man, turning back to the elf, who paused and shook her head.

"I do not know," she murmured. "But he says things ..."

Stare breathed in, then looked around her until she found a useful number of chains and manacles. One seemed very similar to that which had held Stare. In fact it was in such a position and such a state that she reckoned it was.

Well, Vitruvion said it wanted something similar to what she had been bound in. The exact same thing should do fine. Stare bent down to pick it up. There was a small grunting gasp, and Stare looked up to see the elf at the back of the cell, face pale.

Stare considered her and what she had likely been through here. She shook her head as she heaved up the chains and flung them over her shoulder. Then beneath them, entangled into them she saw a set of handcuffs. Open and waiting. Without looking up she used a foot to slide them over to the elf.

"Front will do," she said, uncomfortably and trying not to think anymore.

There was a pause, then a series of light clicks as well as an uneasy groan. The scrape of steps, the awkward shuffling of someone bound. Finally Stare looked up when her instinct told her and she saw the elf around two metres away with her hands around her back. The elf suddenly turned and showed Stare her wrists, secured with the cuffs.

"I only want to get out of here," she said uneasily, her eyes always on Stare's.

Instantly Stare knew that the elf was telling the truth. With a short nod she herself turned, heading out of the cell, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine.

"Just wait at the bottom of the stairs," the kenku asked. "Wait for me for your own safety."

And walked into the cell with the man.

His eyes, previously down and ignoring her finally drew up when Stare came in. They fixed onto her, as if her crossing his path directly was the only thing that made him see her. Stare knew he was different - that much was clear from the way he almost lounged against his restraints. Truly it was odd - it was if he was relaxed about this entire situation.

"If you didn't hear me speak to the elf," Stare began, "I said-"

"I know what you said, girl," the man growled back in a hiss. "And I don't care. I will not listen to the words of any ..." He spat the word. "slave."

Stare did what she did best - she stared at him, and focused into her mind. Problem here, she called internally, He knows what I am to you.

[Stare]

He knows things.

The words resounded around her head like an echoing thunder. The sides of Stare's beak parted as the kenku gazed in shock. Nobody but her and Vitruvion knew about the advancement to their relationship.

Well, them aside from the Maester Rafael who had created the document for him and possibly Raevin. It was impossible for anyone to know, unless they were a mind reader. Yet Stare had not detected any magic from him at all, and mind reading needed at least a basic amount of power, supernatural energy or other ability. All of which he did not have.

Vitruvion! she yelled.

Bring the elf to me. Leave the man, come and chain our prisoner and I will deal with the man who knows.

She drew in breath, and then nodded. In all honesty she did not want to be reminded of this place more than she had to be. Swiftly she turned around and left, leaving the man in the dirt. He did not answer, and Stare did not look around to see what he was doing. Instead she strode forth, turning to come to see the elf in the corridor.

Her black hair fell across her face but it did not hide the pity in her eyes. Clearly she had heard what the man had said. Stare grunted and approached her, throwing her gaze up the stairs.

"Vitruvion will deal with him," she said in a low voice.

"He knows things," the elf murmured.

"Yeah I get that now." Stare moved past her and started up the steps.

There was a pause and for a moment the only sound was the click of claws and the patter of feet on the stonework. As they got to the top of the staircase the elf began to murmur.

"You're a-"

"My slave, yes, as deemed by the courts of Hernsford," said the rich voice from above. His white hair and coat were still in perfect order. Swiftly he was walking towards them down the corridor, picking his feet over the corpses. "And what did he tell you, elf?"

The elf took in a fast breath as she saw Vitruvion. Quickly she showed her willingness to comply and bowed from the waist, her manacles hands clear. "He told me my greatest secret too ... Sir. That ..."

Vitruvion raised his brows. "That ...?"

"That I am the bastard daughter of Nalith Celiniel," she whispered.

That name made both Stare and Vitruvion exchange uncomfortable looks. They knew who Nalith Celiniel was, or rather Lady General Nalith, steward and ruler of Raiaera. Both of them fell into stunned silence at the presence of the young elf maiden ... Who was in fact royalty, born out of wedlock or otherwise.

Vitruvion slowly turned around to the elf, and then suddenly inclined his head in a form of bow - something Stare had never seen him do.

"My lady," he responded. "I am Sir Vitruvion Elssmith, of Beinost, and this is ... Well Stare Tsakaka, my steward. I would entertain you were it not for the situation." He paused. "Pelase excuse me for now, however, but I must deal with this mongrel."

Twisting around he gave one nod at Stare before walking away, and striding down the stairs.

There was a long pause. Then the royal daughter spoke.

"I'm not royalty," she said quietly. "I never was. I'm just one of a handful of children that Lady Nalith had with her various lovers."

Stare nodded slowly. "We'll get you back to Beinost at least." She had a personal slight suspicion that Vitruvion might sieze on the opportunity to get a bastard royal as a new occupant for the Hollow. The thought made her sick to her stomach and in fact she was almost tempted to just let the elf go, onwards into Radasanth.

She was busy thinking of the pros and cons of this plan when the man who had been stunned before began to moan. Sucking in her breath Stare ran over and quickly began securing his hands and feet with the tight series of cuffs. Before he could fully gain consciousness she had bound him wrist to ankle behind him, with a loop of metal for his neck also. In the end he looked like a ridiculous prize for any needy bounty hunter.

"Will you do the same with me?"

Stare looked up to see the princess there, by the end of the corridor and closer to her. The hands were still behind her back, cuffed, and there was no sign of rising magic. The elf s eyes though were wondering over the mounds of corpses that had been made ... Though they were not surprised. Like she had wanted this to happen. Like she was used to it perhaps?

"You were kidnapped because you are royal, yes?" the kenku asked.

"Because of my mother, indeed. There seems to be some call out for children of Nalith. Even bastsrds," she shrugged in response.

Stare grunted, "And for kenkus. At least those attached to dickheads."

It took but a moment for the princess to understand. "You mean you ..."

Setting her jaw Stare looked away down the hall to where there had last met Vitruvion. When the man did not appear for several long seconds she glanced back to the lady.

"Five days," she admitted, "And ... you said your mother's name but not your own."

The elf paused. "I was given the name ... Merla."

[Stare]

Two things soon happened.

First Vitruvion appeared at the top of the stairs that led to the cells. He had his knife drawn and it seemed to be soaked in fresh blood. The god strode with grim determination, coming to the kenku and the elf in a swift and desicive manner. As he came close he wiped his knife on a handkerchief that he spun from his jacket pocket.

"He will not be coming with us," he said with a strangely normal tone.

And he kept striding, right past the two females and towards the bound demon mage. Him awakening was the second thing to happen. As soon as he did so he began to shout and struggle, finding himself not in the same position as before. Stare saw his face screw up and his body began to shiver before Vitruvion came up and shoved his hand on the man's back. There was no pause for pity. Thin lines of white light spilled from Vitruvion's fingers to wrap themselves over the chains - making them tighter and likely magic proof.

"You arseho-"

Grabbing the same handkerchief Vitruvion shoved it in the man's mouth, muffling him. Once he was quite happy that his power dominated the minor demon mage's he looked back at Stare and Merla.

He paused. "This man attacked us earlier. He is now my prisoner," Vitruvion said, thinking as he spoke. "I do not want to draw a parralell to yourself however, lady, therefore ..."

He looked to Stare and waved a hand, gesturing. It took her a moment to completely understand, but then she breathed in, and took the keys in hand. Merla paused, but got what she was indicating and twisted her hands around. For a moment Stare considered not doing so - after all, how did they know the elf was not just decieving them - but she realised this was what she wanted. She herself had thought, briefly, about allowing Merla the chance of escape ... And Stare a chance of extreme Vitruvion retribution.

Sliding the key in she unlocked the elf's cuffs. Then, stepping back, she took them away, her body tense, eyes resdy to do ... Well anything.

But the elf just let out a soft sigh, and stood there. Then, twisting around she sank into the lowest, more graceful curtsey. To Vitruvion.

"My lord," she held out her hands before her. "I owe you my sanity and potentially my life. I have nothing, I would go back to nothing but a life of running if I left here on my own."

She paused and rose, nibbling the corner of her mouth. Stare could imagine what was going through her head. 'Do I really want to throw my lot in with this man?' The answer in the kenku's mind was, 'Hell no.'

"If you know of anywhere, have connections to anything that can take me in, I would be in your debt. I have few skills and little magic. One that cannot be of much use ... well." She paused. "I am a goldsmith, I can make certain elements change to gold under severely limited constructs. Not very useful for an elf," Stare saw Vitruvion's eyes flicker with interest though. Even though he had enough wealth as is, she knew his mind would already be working overtime. Certainly it explained the elf's golden power lines.

"Also," Merla went on, "I don't have any right to royalty, and all I have made because of it are enemies." She sucked in her breath. "Thus I would ask you, sir, for you clearly have power and know laws even as far as Hernsford ... Are you able to assist?"

[Stare]

Vitruvion paused for a long, accumulating moment, his blue eyes. He kept standing near the victimised mage, who was still huffing through his gag - but no more. Truly, he was no longer a threat. The god bent slowly to pick up the end of his cane he had left on the floor, taking the time to think, before he inserted the dagger back into it, then straightened to address Merla.

"You are here because an individual or society presumably put a price for your live capture?" He asked.

"I can only presume so, sir," Merla agreed, keeping her eyes level to his but her head lowered.

Vitruvion seemed to like the respect she gave him, despite his act of deference to her earlier. Now it seemed that because she was asking a boon of him (and a second, for he had already freed her) he was willing to take the superior position. He was no stranger to such a thing.

With apprehension Stare waited for his reply. She knew that Merla being fair of face and royal, and had a mark of defiance in her, she fitted his requirements for a 'guest' at the Hollow. That or Vitruvion might just use Merla's very rare ability to make a massive amount of money quickly. As her hands ground into fists and she began to feel the true anxiety of such a thing she decided to act, the thought having been in her head now for far too long. Slowly she stepped forwards and opened her beak to start.

"No," Vitruvion commanded, in a full, powerful tone. His cane swept up and the end pointed right at her - but his eyes remained on Merla. "Don't even think about it, girl."

"But-" Stare began.

"We have much to discuss already, and anything that you are thinking can be talked about later. Right now, however, this is my business, my decision. You have no say in the matter." He lowered his cane. "At all, Stare."

What I do with her is my business, he continued internally. You will not ruin any opportunity for me. He paused, making it look from the exterior like it was continuing to consider. Merla blinked, confused at the outburst but remained silent. We need, in general, to have a discussion about you obeying my orders in situations like this. In private, in less ... Tense situations I can allow your opinion, but not when I am not in the mood, not when I need your obedience.

He went quiet for a moment, as if testing her. Stare, however, remained silent, simply glaring at him with all the fury she felt at being stripped of her power.

"I accept, Lady Merla," he suddenly said, a glint in his eye. "I have many contacts and am always on the need for connections." He leant down and with one hand grabbed the neck chain of the man beneath him. A painful, muffled cry came out as well as a choke, but Vitruvion did nothing more than smile as he dragged the man half off the floor. "Tell me, would you rather work here or in Raiaera?"

And he started to walk, literally pulling the mage along behind him. The man's bent legs and his entire form was under severe stress and pain as he was taken over the corpses of his former comrades, to a place where he was going to be tortured. Possibly for days.

Vitruvion gestured for them both to follow. Grinding the sides of her beak together Stare began to move, and caught the brief, but concerned look of Merla in her eye.

"'Slave', remember," Stare spat.

"That's not everything, though, is it?" Merla murmured to her. "He doesn't ... Treat you like I've seen masters treat their slaves before. Hernsford law is the only way he could have a hold of you here and in Raiaera, but-"

"Stare is a special case," Vitruvion said from up ahead. "If you do not mind, Lady Merla, it is a private matter and a secret for a reason. If you ... Do not mind answering my question?"

Merla paused, and glanced from an unamused Stare to the back of Vitruvion and the bulk of a victim behind him and she paused, before ducking her head. Stare wondered if she considered that she had made a mistake asking for help - although she had known about Vitruvion's meglomania and bloodthirstiness before hand. She had seen his treatment of the mage.

"Raiaera," she admitted. "Though I am not wanted there, it is my home."

"I can offer you direct employment, or that from a connection. Though I say so myself I treat anyone in my employment with dignity and respect, even if they are as belligerent as Stare there. I run various operations."

Wait, so you're not taking her into the Hollow? Stare was then questioning, confused.

Just shut up, he hissed back. He started up the stairs to the outside, letting the mage bounced off them. The man squirmed but found he could still not get out. A look into the aura sight told Stare that his own chakras were basically constrained by white veins of power - Vitruvion's.

"I ..."

"I cannot guarantee the integrity of any of my connections," Vitruvion admitted. "But you have asked, and I have replied, Lady Merla. Do you need time to consider?"

"Most definitely," she said quickly. "I have very little ... Nothing, really, but my power. It is how I get by, if I can find the materials I need, if I can at all. I really do not have my family name anymore. Never did, really."

He nodded slowly and they got the top most corridor where Stare had spilt first blood. Vitruvion smirked and walked right over it, heading to the light.

"Well, what I propose is this. Stare and I require a few more days in the city. I can send you back, now, to my estate at Beinost where you will be treated well, and you may consider my offer."

He paused, looking at the door he had ruined and then moving outside. "How is this?"

Merla paused, and stared from the kenku to the god, lips parting in awe. She no longer regarded the captured mage, as if he did not exist.

"I guess I accept," she said in a confident, admitting voice.

"Good," Vitruvion smiled, the light touching his skin once more. "Just one more question - how are you with organisation?"

[Stare]

They gained back to the hotel in the mid afternoon. Vitruvion hid the mage with a strange kind of invisiblity spell that Stare had only seen him use once before. Apparently he could not do complete invisiblity, but rather constructed a way that made people completely disregard them. Their eyesight just slipped over their company, and as long as they did not directly interact with them and were careful he managed to drag a chained body through the streets of Radasanth and into the hotel suite.

"Throw that in the closet, will you?" He threw the man on the ground.

Stare raised her brows as she began to reduce her baggage. "You want me to ... In the closet?"

"We have nowhere else to put him," the god responded, "That or-" he paused. "The room beyond that. There. Leave him chained of course."

Stare blinked at him, thinking in her mind, But that is my room. Though she had not spent her night there, because of Vitruvion's strange requirement for company in his bed the night before, it still had her belongings in it and she definitely intended to stay there that night. Her eyes glanced briefly to Merla, who was standing in her rags in the centre of the fancy sitting room, awkward as a rabbits amongst hares. Truly, the elf had to be given some commendation for putting up with the strange, power-lusty white haired man and his bizarre kenku slave, who had a dynamic that seemed to shift constantly. Yet still here she was, saying nothing and letting the organisation of god and employee entact before her.

"Yes, that same room. Take him, make the space, leave him. Yes?"

Looking back over to him she grunted, before turning around and heading to the mage. It made some form of sense. She guessed she would just sleep on an armchair the next night. Grabbing his chain she groaned, not feeling any pity for the merciless kidnapper who endorsed rape and force-feeding, and was likely connected also with the mysterious 'brother' in all of this.

Yes - the brother! After all this she had forgotten him, in the heat of the moment with Merla and the man who knew secrets, Stare had completely forgotten about the whole issue. Standing straight up she gazed back at Vitruvion, the question clear in her mind. What had he found in the office, if anything? What had the mysterious secret man said that had made him need to meet his end? What did Vitruvion plan on doing with the mage? What was the idea next? What-?

Lady Merla first, all of that second, he told her.

And it took a long moment of looks between them for Stare to accept it and leave, heaving the lump behind her.

Once she was out of ear shot, Vitruvion moved closer to Merla, his tall, handsome form filling her view. Close to her he suddenly focused in and spoke in a low, quick tone.

"There is one condition on working for me," he practically whispered, "If that is what you truly wish. You say you are good at organisation, and believe it or not I am a very dire need for such a person," he watched the elf, who gazed up him with large eyes, her reaction to his stance before her mild supplication. When he took too long to continue she nodded.

"I am decent at it," she murmured back, "My basic bastard royalist education came with learning numbers, administration, languages and theory. It is usual practise as my kind are excepted to go into government positions."

"Well," Vitruvion continued, regarding her with a nod. "That is near perfect then. We simply need to ensure you can fit into the household and society. However," and he clasped his hands over his cane. "Right, two things rather than one. One, I have made an agreement with Stare that the truth of her physical bondage to me is to remain a secret. I would require for you to keep that. The second is that ..."

He paused and glanced over to the other rooms, just to ensure no one was watching. Instead a door clicked closed.

"A requirement that you respect both Stare and another employee of mine, Captain Raevin. They run my estates, my businesses and, every single one of my employees is adherant to one or the other. They deserve every regard."

Merla blinked. "If you do not mind me saying, sir, you do not treat Stare the same ..."

"She is mine, and she had no choice in the matter, Lady Merla, and sometimes she needs to be reminded where her loyalties lie. I make her life difficult, I know, but she makes mine hard also. Still, I require her to be respected, because she deserves it, despite what-" he paused. "They are my issues, my problems to deal with. No others. Unlike the rest of everyone I employ there is the chance that they can walk away, or I can fire them and never need to see them again, but not Stare." He tapped a long finger on the cane and admitted it. "I cannot let her go. For reasons you would never understand. But think of it simply as I believe her and my souls are bound together, in a way that few can comprehend."

[Stare]

"Done," Stare grunted, her bag beneath her arm. She was coming back into the room, a dull discomfort in her eyes as she saw Vitruvion and Merla together. But she did not remark - he had already made that clear that he was not in the mood when it came to talking about the princess born out of wedlock. Instead she placed her things, including the chainmail that she had already taken off, and her helmet she had never worn, by the door into the bedroom. Then she stood, her eyes fixed to look around her, scanning the general room.

"Hmm," Vitruvion took a moment to regard the kenku, then nodded. "I need to prepare transport for Lady Merla. Go to the kitchens and inform them of our third guest."

Stare rolled her eyes but left, clear agitation in her feet.

"You ... You really are rude to her," Merla murmured.

"As much as she is rude to me," was Vitruvion's conclusion, moving to shed his jacket, and then took up a small round stone from within a folded cloth from deep in his personal pocket. Merla saw the corners of many folded papers as he searched. Vitruvion held the perfectly spherical stone between thumb and forefinger and began to gaze into its depths.

"She is, however, Stare. And I know enough about her to know her extreme usefulness and her loyalty to me." He looked at Merla. "If I might ask one thing, lady. You said that it was your greatest secret, you being the child of Lady General Nalith ... Do you wish for that to be the same?"

Merla observed him for a while, before breathing in and clasping her hands before her bruised, recently freed, dressed in rags body. And she pursed her lips and held herself like an aristocrat. "I started being abused from childhood, ever since my affinity with goldsmithing was revealed. Though it does require very precise metals that are rare in themselves to process, people wanted to gain my favour or force me to work for them until I was eighteen. From then, my royal connection has brought me nothing but bad luck. On my nineteenth birthday I fell in with a member of rhe small council, a general of the Tel Algarim," said she speaking first of the lower governmental council under that of the high council (of which Lady Nalith was the only current present member), and second of the core army of Raiaera. "He had a reputation for deception and abuse with his men, which I did not know until it was too late. Perhaps all he wanted was my gold-smithing but ... After I had succumbed to his charm and his ways were publicly revealed, our relationship became something of a rumour storm and I fell also." She fixed Vitruvion with a firm eye. "My name, my mother, was used against me, horrifically, and my life was threatened by various half siblings I have, and so I made the decision to hide the truth of my inheritance. I moved from city to city before I settled in Mirdan Timbreth."

"Arguably the last surviving city of the Corpse War," the god commented, watching her with interest as the stone in his fingers began to blossom with light.

Merla shrugged slightly. "Yes. And then ... I lived there until someone apparently somehow recongised me and then I was running again, racing away from the scandal, and what people assumed I was involved in. I came to Corone in a desperate attempt, found nothing but hatred and contempt here and ..."

"Got captured anyway."

She nodded. "Probably for someone who wanted revenge on my general lover." After a sigh, she went on. "Look, If you are the sort of person I think you might be, Sir Elssmith, if you truly have the power that you suggest, then you may be my liberation after all. I am willing to offer all my skills, all my abilities at your disposal. I don't want to have any connection to royalty anymore, I don't want to risk the few friends I left there any further than I need to. But I know from what little I have seen so far that you are one of the strongest mages I have ever seen, and clearly own a vast amount of power." She looked at him with large, desperate eyes. "I don't need a few days to consider. I am yours."

Slowly Vitruvion lowered the globe in his hand and twisted to stare at the elf for some time. Observing with care, he looked at the rags she wore that barely covered her ruined body, the way she still held herself that screamed nobility. Her back story also spoke of strife, and he had a partial suspicion that what she spoke wasn't true - that she really had known some of the atrocities her lover did. That, though, made her of attractive qualities that Vitruvion liked. He himself was not a perfect specimen by any means. Merla had not battered an eyelid at the sight of so many bodies and the pain he had inflicted with his captured demon mage. In fact she had seen comfortable with it, he noticed from Stare's memories. That made her all the more reasonable as a close employ of himself.

He paused and folded his arms, still though holding out the marble at an angle. "I will accept on one condition, Lady Merla," he told her, his lips twitching into a smile, "That you tell me the full truth of something I suspect. I am not accusing you of any connection to your lover's acts, not directly, but, people say I am good at reading people. And what I believe is that you are no stranger to the death and violence that I am capable of. If you were disturbed by it you would not be asking me to employ you so desperately," he paused. "Two things - I think you knew of your lover's acts, and perhaps even saw a few, but did likely not take part. Secondly, I want to know if you find them ... Seductive?"

Merla flashed him with the darkest, deadliest look that any woman could, eyes full of anger, frustration and disbelief. There was so much fury that it could feed a fire for a lifetime, and it was the same sort of intensity that Vitruvion often saw within Stare that he respected so much. That he found so attractive, so powerful. That he forged into his 'guests' at the Hollow simply for the fact that it was what he wanted to see. That he basically tricked the other brothers into creating for him - an army of powerful, furious individuals that, were it to come to it, he could reign to his side and use them to create a most fearsome army ...

Merla then suddenly, before him stepped forwards and hissed in his face. "His name was Jakar Olina. He was the love of my life and it was only when I was forced to by my mother that I left him. Otherwise I would be as he is. Dead. And the family name in ruins." She paused. "No I never took part in his atrocities but I saw them well enough - his beatings to within an inch of life, his rape of male and female subordinates. His violence towards prisoners, his obsession with pain, for pain's sake ... For two years I watched, said nothing. Two whole years. Even sometimes funded him." She glared at Vitruvion. "Is that what you wanted, Sir Elssmith? An admission? I was in love with the man, and yes, I found him more attractive covered in sweat, knowing his power ... I don't know what it was. But-" she took a long breath and stepped away. Then she sighed again, her eyes clearly partly of their anger.

"You keep secrets, clearly. And in exchange for my loyalty I ask that you keep mine. The publisher story is the one I have fought to keep the truth."

Vitruvion nodded slowly, his heart racing, his lips curling into a smile. His eyes gleamed. "And it will stay between us. The only people who will ever know, if the need arises, are Raevin and Stare. You know her slavery status, and the same applies to that." He took a moment to hold out his spare hand to her. "I can provide you new papers with which to start a new life, and a starting salary of one thousand crowns per quarter. Your position will be in my house as general manager of the businesses I run and the house, directly under Stare herself. I will not even inquire about your power unless you willingly talk to me about it, or I can think of a way that you might be able to use it other than gaining riches. I do not need it. If this is acceptable-"

Merla reached and siezed his hand. She shook it once, powerfully. "My lord," she intoned.

And he grinned. Devilishly. "My lady."

[Stare]

Quite deliberately, Stare was gone for a while.

To put it simply - she wanted to be away to think. Despite the fact that he could still see into her mind she coule forget about him as she descended into the depths of the hotel. From room to kitchen, from high society to the servant quarters, she went to the place where people like Mrs Deerling and Druss reigned supreme. They were those who she had come to know and respect, truly, in her role as caretaker of the estate. She had come and found the dinners already being prepared, and it was of little request to add a third into the mass dinners that the kitchen was making for everyone. They offered her to wait, and so Stare accepted, relaxing into a chair as she finally remembered the wound she had sustained on her shoulder. Asking for water and rags, she stared away any questions, and cleaned it.

Once that was done she let herself think about what had been. About what she and Vitruvion needed to talk about. He had been in the office - had he found anything that could help them find his 'brother'? And there was the questions still about the Man of Secrets - what had he been, who was he? Somehow he had been able to determine the deepest, darkest secret of all of them. For Merla, that had been her mother, and for Stare it had been her enslavement. For Vitruvion, Stare could only presume it had to be his godhood, unless some other terrible secret was there that he had not told her. Whatever it was it had angered him enough to end the man's life. Was it possibly then, connected to this brother who should not be? The brother who Vitruvion had sworn to end.

"Miss?"

Looking up Stare saw one of the kitchen staff looking at her, holding onto a tray. Two large plates topped with serving domes stood there, as well as a smaller plate. Three glasses of some dark red liquid accompanied them. Pausing, Stare grunted, then heaved herself to her feet, forced out of her thoughts. She remembered the mage that they had trussed up in the other bedroom - her bedroom - and thought about whether or not they needed to get him anything. It occurred to her that a day of starvation would likely not be the worst he went through in the next few days.

She strode up the stairs, then pushed into the room just as the elf and god were shaking hands. The door shuddered closed behind as she stopped, and looked from one to the other with complete surprise.

Vitruvion turned around slowly, his ice blue eyes already full of scheming.

What has happened? she asked.

His smile grew. "My dear, I said I needed someone to help you in the day to day running of your work in Beinost, and Lady Merla has agreed to take that on. Assuming you are happy with this appointment ..."

Stare locked eye contact with him and blinked.

"Lady Merla has agreed to this?"

The elf shifted foot and looked away. "I have, Lady Stare."

Of her own volution?

The god simply arched an eyebrow. "Do you have any objections, Stare?" he asked.

She blinked and eyed him with intensity. "I think it your and her decision to make."

He inclined his head. "Indeed. It could be said ... In that case may I introduce your future working compatriots."

Stare took a moment to look the elf up and down and then grunted a sigh, moving fully into the room. She knew there would be a reason behind Vitruvion's quickness to trust the elf and offer it to her. But that being what it was, the god was not a stupid man and would only offer employment to those he could trust - and use. Furthermore he had now collected himself a princess into his empire, even if it was out with the Hollow. For he had used the word 'work' and that would not mean Hollow, she did not think.

Heading over to the table Stare set down the tray of food and took a moment to look between the two.

"Lady Merla, I will get you something more ... Adequate to wear," she said before heading off to her own piles of clothes.

There was a pause as Merla whispered to Vitruvion. "So ... I will be working under Stare?"

"Indeed," he agreed.

Stare came back a moment later, holding out a simple black tunic. "It is all I have," she grumbled. "Back at the mansion ask to see my room. Druss can show you ... Borrow what tunics you want."

[Stare]

Merla left very shortly afterwards, the marble from Vitruvion pulsating and emitting a strong blue light when he was done. Passing it to her he said it would provide one journey's worth of teleport travel right to the doors of the Elssmith manor house. Also he gave her two letters - one for Druss the new butler to explain who she was, and the other to Raevin to explain what role Merla was to take. They also agreed that continuing on from then Merla would use a different name, to ensure her past did not catch up to her. For now the simple abbreviation 'Mer' was chosen, with a surname to follow later, and a backstory to be constructed over time.

It left Vitruvion and Stare finally alone as her light slowly faded away. As the farewell smile slipped from the god's face it came to mimick the cold, unamused tones that had been living in the kenku's expression ever since they had entered the bounty hunters' lair. Stare turned and busied herself with piling the very nice plates and her crappy tin one together. The tray in her hands was careful and steady, and she moved to start picking it up to carry it back to the kitchen - when Vitruvion finally spoke.

"A maid will get that," he said quietly. "I think we have much more important matters to attend to."

The kenku blinked and stopped for a second, stunned at his sudden speech. Then she twisted around her head and fixed him with a beady eye. "So now pretty elf has gone it's finally time to talk about the serious side, eh?"

Vitruvion's jaw tightened with dislike but he fell into an armchair and relaxed instead of disciplining her. "We always had it to speak of, Stare." He paused, his nose wrinkling. "And do not say 'eh' like that. It is very ... Plebian."

Stare almost laughed. "We have a demon mage in the closet, we faced a man with power you don't even seem to understand, and we still have your mysterious brother to deal with ... And you are worried about me sounding 'plebian'."

"The mage is in the spare bedroom, not the closet," he said calmly, gesturing for her to take the chair opposite him. "And you should be thankful I have employed someone capable of finally being useful in my household. Really. I have half a mind to fire them all and hire an entirely new household. With the exception of yourself, naturally."

She dumped herself in the seat. "I didn't think you meant me. You've told me enough times I'm not getting away the easily."

His brows rose and he nodded. "Indeed, at this rate your magic is improving, well ..."

The kenku blinked, confused. "Wait. What?"

For a moment there was a brief silence, then Vitruvion gloriously grinned. "Resurrection, even for me, is a difficult magic but for you ... Well." He leant to the side to rest his body on an elbow. "I'd be willing to try anything. Near death experience..."

If she was supposed to be impressed she did not look it. Instead she just grunted and shrugged. "So I have no choice in Mer because you trust her for whatever reason you found out. Fine," she raised a hand to raise it dismissively - then remembered who she was sitting opposite. So she waved it very dramatically. His brow lines creased but he said nothing.

"Anyway," she went on, pleased that she had irritated him. "Am I allowed I know what the Man of Secrets told you?"

Vitruvion looked at her a while with disapproval in his eyes, but answered her. "As you entirely suspected, my dear, he knew I am a god. He had to die. I can see why they chained him up, no," he held up a finger as she opened her mouth to ask if he knew where the man's power came from. "I cannot say that I know. Based on evidence, on what you saw, I can only presume it was an item he wore of some sort, or a curse that is not of his own power, but of another neither of us can detect."

Stare looked in shock, going silent for a moment. This seemed to please Vitruvion and his smile returned.

"So it's ... Of the Althanas gods? You told me before your power is limited because of them, that, for instance, you cannot access the minds of mortals easily because of their protection ... Maybe this man had something similar."

"Though you have been able to see other divine magic users," Vitruvion gestured at her. "Paladin, priests and the like. We tested that enough. And from what we can fathom, you even see my own power, so long as it is outwith my body ... In you for instance."

Stare nodded slowly, thinking of how the hue of her own power lines, when she looked at herself and her chakras in a mirror, was exactly that of Vitruvion. There was no doubt between both of them now that her power was directly bestowed by his godhood.

"So it's something else ... Demonic?"

"You can see demon magic as one of the clearest of all. And no. He did not stink."

Stare blinked. "Stink?"

"Yes, there is," he paused and pushed a horrible burnt, manure scent and taste into her nose and mouth. Immediately she recoiled in horror. " That is what essence of demon smells like, my dear. The Man of Secrets did not. Wine," he suddenly picked up a glass from dinner and held it out. Stare blinked for a moment before he shook it at her. "Wine, Stare. Now."

Raising her brows she held back a grumble and stood before heading over to a cupboard. Delving into it she found a gorgeous 'confiance en ton coeur' red. It was one that she knew Vitruvion liked. Heading back over she uncorked the bottle with a stab of one claw, and ended up pouring it right into the waiting glass. Without asking she took up another for herself. Vitruvion said nothing, and waited for her to sit back down.

"The scent is perhaps something that may transfer over to you sometime, I suspect, though you can see the source of power in a person, the scent is lingering. It tells me if something is enchanted, a mage has been in the area, charms are in place, and so on," he paused. "We will see. Anyway," he sipped his wine. "That was the man. He knew too much, and so he had to die. I can see why someone would place a bounty for him alive. Now we move on."

He then leant forwards, looked down at himself and grunted. "Stare, I left my coat ..." He gestured idly over to the bed.

"I'm not a-" she began to speak, but then cut herself off, realising the stupidity of what she was about to say. Getting out of her chair she set her glass aside and began to moodily saunter to where his tailcoat was draped over the bedstead.

Vitruvion laughed lightly, "I do not even need to read your mind to know what you were going to finish with."

The word 'slave' sung around her head and she tried to ignore it. By the time she came back to him to hand over his coat he was grinning at her. "Thank you ... mine."

Rolling her eyes she took up her wine and slumped back into her chair. "What's in the coat?"

[Stare]

He raised a finger for her to wait as he placed down his own glass again and began to slide his hand into the inner pockets of the coat. As he did so Stare began to hear the unmistakable sound of the rustling of paper. Sitting up, intrigued she realised this must be what he had procured from the mage's office.

"Indeed," he nodded, then he paused before bringing out a hand full of papers.

This time Stare got up of her own accord and she grabbed the tray from the table to carry it away and dump it beside the door. By the time she had come back he had three good piles of scraps, bound notes and assorted documents. Seeing this and seeing he was still pulling out other items she proceeded to clear the entirety of the table. He made a small nod and began to spread the papers around as she moved off the various goblets, maps and books that had been left there. Grabbing various small smooth rocks that they had used the day before for the maps. Vitruvion said nothing but moved in harmony with her, spreading out the papers in various piles. As she looked around she saw the amount of articles there and she let out a soft gasp.

"Is that ... Everything from the office?"

He nodded. "Everything. The drawers at the desk, and there was a cupboard behind a wall also. There was all of this and ..." He brought out a series of refined metal cubes. Both in bright gold and another dull grey. A metal that looked very similar to ...

She raised her wrist and compared it to the tarnished, unshining silver. The metal could be said to be the same, in fact she was ready to swear it. It was the same as with the type of blue stone that Vitruvion had enchanted to send Merla back, and the one Raevin had used to come and get her from Corone in the first place.

"This is called dehrtine," Vitruvion said quietly, plucking up a nugget of the grey material. "Yes it is the same thing that makes your cuff. It is a mixture of delyn, adamantine and a rare metal called platina. Adamantine as you know is unknown as to its origin, but ancient relics can be found that are melted down to make dehrtine." He fixed his eyes on her. "Very few know how to make dehrtine, Stare. Very few know of its properties. It is indestructible, acts as both a resistor to and holder of magical properties, and is far stronger than any other material I know. Besides perhaps dragon bone and so on. But," he tapped the small nodules and she felt her heart pound. "It is very, very rare. Only the wisest even know of its existence. One of these could feed a town for a year."

The realisation of just how much Vitruvion had used for her cuff hit her and she clasped her hand over it. "You spent ... That much?"

"I have spent much more money on you than just that," he started to pick up the nodules and place them back in his pocket, "But my point is, they should be very rare to get. Only the greatest mage orders have them. Know how to make them!"

Stare blinked, "So how did you ..."

"A mixture of contacting my father at the time ... And I may have some influence with the high bards of Istien University," he mused. "When I first arrived in this world I went there to see what I could make of this land. They offered me a permanent position teaching. That would have been a very different life."

An image of Vitruvion bustling through town as a lecturer caused Stare to smile. But it faded fast, to be replaced by the strong-willed, well-respected meglomaniac she knew him as. Her eyes briefly flittered over him, taking in his almost white hair (she was sure it had once been more blonde) and his cool blue eyes, before she sighed and looked down.

"Okay so, something that only the Istien has was in there. The gold is ...?"

"Just gold," Vitruvion shrugged. "It was the dehrtine that I was more concerned over. Now. These papers."

She looked at the gold for a moment longer, still considering the power of the dehrtine - which showed just how powerful a demon there would have had to have been before to be able to take off her cuff - and then nodded, finding both of their wines and setting them back on the table.

"Right. Well," he laid two fingers on a large stack. "These, from what I can tell are nothing more than orders, internal notes from hunter group to hunter group. These," he pointed to a smaller, neater stack, "Are reward posts for the different victims. Call outs, that sort of thing. Then we have the messages, letters and the like some of which might be useful," he moved to a further pile, "The journals of the leaders of the room. The notes, logs and so on." He finally touched the notes bound with string. "What I want to know is the person in command of this all, and the notes concerning you. I suspect what we found is one hovel out of a few, but we will be able to find links to others, mentions to them."

Stare grunted. "They might have been stupid enough to make a map of them."

He nodded and gestured at the top bound stack. "Start with then."

The kenku's eyes looked over the tightly bound pages and immediately felt grumpy. Grumbling she reached for the first, knowing though that it was really the only place to get answers. She paused when she saw Vitruvion begin to stand.

"Where are you going?" She asked, confused.

He looked down at her and smiled brilliantly. "I am going to consult our other line of enquiry," he said.

Then his smile expanded to reveal his full set - she had to admit then - of extraordinarily sharp teeth. It could have been a trick of the light, it could have been some illusion by him, but she knew she saw them. Then he turned, a swirl of black on white, and began to march away, cane rapping.

She watched until he disappeared through the door.

The screams began a minute later.

[Stare]

Apparently Vitruvion had already performed a muffling enchantment, for no people came running. Instead Stare was the only one gifted with the sound of the agonised music, the shrieks and shouts of hatred. She tried to focus, concentrating on the sheets in front of her, pouring through them as the voice rose to inhuman resonances and screamed for his 'lord to take him'. Low, rumbling threats could be heard, answering back those calls and telling the victim that his lord 'was not listening'. The second voice actually tried to reason with the man, but when the man cursed him right back more screams came. Were uttered. Echoed around the halls. Ended with gasping, whispering, shaking. Points of silence occurred through the several long minutes that extended into an hour, but the musical background was deadly, dark and dreadful.

"So?"

He swept back into the room. Looking up, trying to quell the pounding at her with the myriad of expertly built muscles beneath. She could swear she saw a long dark scar for a moment - but for a moment only. As Vitruvion came nearer she saw it heal.

"... Stare?" he asked again.

Quickly she breathed in and glanced back at the sheets before her. She had taken apart one whole journal, and the other two were in piles. Though she still kept everything separate she had begun to find the important pieces of information through the riotous notes and scraps. In the moments when all there had been was quiet conversation next door, or actual silence she had found she had made quite a headway in terms of information gathering. A small parchment and an inkpen had been her ally.

"My dear, have you really found nothing in all this time? It's been an hour!"

She shook herself fast, trying to rid her head of the screams. "Yeah, just the ... Whatever," she pushed the paper towards him. "I found the notes about the bounty for me and for Nevin. There's a series of entries by the mage who took my cuff too. At least it's the only ones that fit the timing. There's no name but - he talks about a demon called ... 'Bazios' or 'Bonsis' or 'Bosias' or something ... Oh and he did one mention to 'the half-celestial'. Could be your impossible brother?"

Vitruvion ran a finger down the page, nodding slowly. He was quiet for a moment, then paused and held out a hand, "The pages he wrote," Stare flummoxed for a bit, trying not to think about the mage's pain as she found the journal entries, then handed them to him.

Taking them the god began to read for a bit, going entirely silent. He just nodded every so often, brow furrowing slow and finger stopping at a certain place. Meanwhile Stare couldn't help but peer past him, back where he had come from, where the mage likely lay in utter agony.

"Stare, stop thinking about it," Vitruvion said in a firm, hard voice. She looked up and he was still reading. "It's not you doing it, it is me. He tried to kill me, would have killed you, and I've offered him countless times to give me the information of his own accord. But he insists on remaining loyal to his ... 'lord'."

Her eyes fell onto the table and she ground her stare into the wood, the feeling of horror overwhelming her. There was a pause, then Vitruvion let out a dramatic sigh to look back to her.

"Ansaldo's balls girl, he is responsible for probably countless deaths. He is part of the same clan who stole you from me and therefore is my enemy. I know you don't like it but you were certainly alright with killing those in the prison tunnel itself."

[Stare]

Stare ground her hands into fists. "They were armed."

"Yes and the Man of Secrets wasn't but you didn't complain about his death."

She said nothing. In all honesty the god had a point. After a while he sighed and set down the paper.

"He is our enemy, Stare, not just yours. You don't like hearing his screaming ... Well plug your ears. You knew it was going to happen, you're stronger than this, I know."

She closed her eyes and pressed a fist to her eyes. A lump formed in her throat because really, she thought it too. She thought the man, the demon mage, deserved it. It was a standard rule of the world in terms of judgement - you got what was coming to you. But it was not that she judged him innocent, it was just ...

"It's the reminder of the place," she murmured quietly. "We went there today, and it made me remember it all, everything. Going back to ..." She flickered up images of her first few days in the Hollow. The fear she felt, the panic that settled in. The way he had first presented himself, then beat her and raped her and -

"Stare," he said in a full, strong voice. "Stop, now, please. Your fear, emotions and everything are good, they make you stronger, and I can use that, but I cannot be a friend who gives you pity." She looked up at him, and he shrugged, not looking sorry in the slightest. "You know who I am, what I am and what I do. I cannot make that easier for you." He sighed at her look in her eyes, the loss and the uneasiness.

"Look, I can see you are not going to be of any use to me just now. Go and ... Go for a couple of hours, but do not get drunk. Be back after then and I will have finished my interrogation. Agreement?"

She blinked a few times and realised what he was saying. Suddenly she stood, the chair clattering back behind her.

"You ... Actually mean it?"

"Yes, go do something useful, like get supplies or something but get out of here before I change my mind," he gestured at the door quickly.

Her eyes lit up and she actually caused her corners of her mouth to smile before she ran over to her pack. Grabbing her belt pouch there was the lightest jingle before she looked once at him, and then paused - but then ran again.

"Thank you, my lord!" she said cheerily.

It was only when she was half way down the street that either of them noticed she had used the term 'my lord' and not meant it sarcastically.

[Stare]

She spent her time in a brothel in fact. After wondering around a few streets and picking up some simply supplies, such as fruit for the room and more stationary supplies, Stare found herself wondering about that strange acquaintance of theirs - Philomel van der Aart. The faun was the Matriarch of most of the brothels (the good ones) in Radasanth apparently, with power abundant and a firm reputation. Though her connection to Vitruvion and Stare came down to a case of her 'accidentally' getting taken into the Hollow by one of the other brothers, a sort of respect had grown between the two communities. Thus, Stare had decided to go to one of the brothels and speak with the whores to find for herself what it was like working under such a woman - such a faun.

Apparently very nice indeed.

When she got back to the hotel, the mage was dead.

Well not entirely dead, but he might as well have been. Perhaps it was understanding for what she had said, perhaps the mage had given up, but Vitruvion did not give an answer. He just told her as soon as she walked in.

"He's no longer moving," he grunted, slumped in the seat she had left him.

She blinked, her mood better than when she had left - though wavering now. "Oh."

Shrugging he waved a hand dismissively. "He is not entirely dead, but he is something called a coma. He will still be useful. I think I can access his surface thoughts with little difficulty."

"You think?" She rose her brow, still not coming further from the doorway.

Vitruvion raised his eyes and scowled at her with them. But not his mouth, likely it would be too unbecoming. "Did you get anything then?"

Pausing for a moment she took in the room, and its contents and found it pretty much the same when she had gone. The only thing missing was the dinner tray and that was natural in a busy grand hotel. Heading over to the table she hefted off her pouch bag and began to empty the fruit she had got - figs, dates, grapes and apples - into a waiting bowl.

"Hmm," the god reached for a fig. "Go anywhere ... Interesting?"

"I went to one of the faun's brothels," she replied, emptying out the stationary items onto the table. "Spoke to some of the women there ..." She paused. "Yeah they basically worship her. You were right to send that apology."

That 'apology' had in fact been in the form of Stare (and another agent of Vitruvion's) coming to help tell Philomel of her daughter's kidnapping at the hands of child slavers. Things had gone well, they had gotten her home safe as a collective and as far as Stare understood it, the daughter now lived with her.

Vitruvion curled his upper lip, "Well, at least we sorted out that mess. Idiot Hugin," he cursed the brother who had taken the faun to the Hollow. "Now to consolidating the information."
He gestured for Stare to take her seat again.

Carefully the kenku sat, removing her bag and coin purse. Then she looked at him again, the news of the mage's condition no longer upsetting her as it had done. Certainly she had had time to consider her own thoughts, pull the memories and realities together. In everything she had come to know that this was all for her benefit, that Vitruvion's determination to end these people was, at least in part, concerned with getting revenge for her. It held a soft pleasure within it, an appreciation that helped her to breathe easier.

"The mage gave me little before he gave up," Vitruvion said, "But what I did gain may be useful."

[Stare]

He began to pushed papers away until he revealed her notes from earlier. He paused. "Stare, I need you to be ready now, I will not wait any further."

The kenku did not look at him, not directly answer. Instead she leant across and took up the journal entries by the first demonic mage, whom she and Nevin had killed when they were imprisoned. And she began to speak.

"Sabazios, that's it."

Looking over to Vitruvion she expected to see his eyes widening, or his features begin to grow stern. Instead she saw his brows crush together and confusion reign on his face.

"Sabazios?" he repeated

She nodded, "You did not get that far when you read earlier?"

"I merely breezed through it and you did not mention it on your notes." He looked thoroughly bemused.

"I did not know if writing a demon's name did ..." She paused, lost at his expression. "So you ... Recognise the name?"

Vitruvion blinked a few times, letting a shrug rise and fall. "Well yes, but he certainly isn't a great threat. He is ... A fallen god type, a ... Well one I have heard is not interested in what happens to mortal." He leant forwards to peer at the paper. "It mentions no other? No higher demon? Beelzebub ... Azrael?"

She shook her head and looked back down. "Just ... Sabazios. Was there nothing in the demon book?" She spoke of a demonic text that her and Nevin had found on their first time.

"My dear, that was a book that was filled with rituals and practise. No real names, just spells, notes about practise ... It mentioned Sabazios, but many other demons also."

"So - you do not think he is the one?"

"Oh I am sure he would have his worshippers, most do. Some minor church or other, and maybe a mage or two, but to be out here, actively taking part in the world ..." He looked thoughtful, then glanced at her, as she sat with patient, learning eyes. Slightly, he smiled. "I would suggest he became influenced. Sabazios, not the mage."

Stare's beak suddenly parted, her eyes widened as she realised something that she had read. Influenced. She began to search through the work, her hands grabbing onto the journal. She began to rifle through it, getting faster and more flustered, her mind getting excited, over excited ...

[Stare]

"What is it?" he said confused and sharp, "Even your mind is-"

"'Mage of the great Sabazios."

"Stare," he explained a little calmer. "Will you stop and-"

She interrupted him. "Entry twentieth of the tenth month: my lord sent me a message saying his contact had approached him again. The need to find the crow girl is absolute. We must-'"

"Stare," the god spoke in a slightly off-put tone. "Remember that conversation we were going to have about you-"

"'The man wants her dearly and I will obey my lord. He commands me, and I will follow. His word is final, and I will carry them out as best as I can as an officer of the Bounty Hunter Guild's - which I'm guessing really is part and parcel the title of the-"

"Stare! This is not funny. Stop-"

"The guild we were hunting. Anyway he goes onto-"

"Stare!" It was a shout this time.

His eyes darkened as she interrupted him again. "Listen - 'this is the same man who influenced my lord in the first place-"

"Fucking girl-"

"'Who brought about his change of instructions.'"

She stopped. And then looked up to see him go from absolute fury to a contorted sort of intrigue. For a moment he looked entirely flummoxed, and Stare wished she could look into his body so see the chaos in his chakras that she reckoned was her basically seeing emotional impact on the body. Slowly she lowered the paper and watched his hand. It flickered between a flat hand and a fist. She realised then she had interrupted him no more than five times in quick succession. And rudely so, telling him to 'listen' no less. As if she had been ordering him. A lump formed in her throat, and she gazed at him with fear in her eyes, her mind melting into understanding.

His hand flashed. Smack, against her face. An open handed slap that sent her feeling right back against her chair. The breath expelled from her lungs, her eyes went large and shining, and a large area of agony burnt across her cheek where he had cracked the hit. Stare closed her eyes and bit back any response to the pain. She brought back her head around to the front and didn't make eye contact, slightly stunned but completely silent. Knowing exactly why he had hit her.

Seconds past. And her cheek burnt.

"Okay," he let out a long breath. It was slow and passive. "Okay. I had to do that, you understand."

She didn't respond. She opened her eyes however and kept them fixed on what she saw first. Which was his chest, slumped back on a chair now. In her mind she made it clear that she wasn't afraid, but she accepted what he had done. Entirely, she had had it coming, she had ignored the warnings - five of them - and powered her way through. Then he had actually paused before giving her the punishment.

He hadn't wanted to hit her, but had needed to.

"Right," he said quietly. "Go and clean yourself up. Then come back here. Yes?"

Stare was still for a moment. Then he sighed, and she saw him beginning to move, so slowly she began to shift herself.

[Stare]

Gradually she got up, restoring herself and her pride. The cheek, and the incline of her beak, where the hand had hit - and it had not been a soft, easy one - still burned. But life was in her body still, and what had been a moment of weakness in her would not be for long. For she was still herself, one slap which she had practically begged for was not enough to take away her identity. But it was enough to remind her of her position.

Walking away without a word, Stare went into the small bathroom of the suite. A tin tub and a ceramic toilet stood there, using the fine technology of great minds. There was a small looking glass, and the kenku avoided this for as long as possible as she washed her face.

But then, finally, she had to. Dark, dull eyes stared back at her under sable feathers. Some of them were bent, others bloody, stained from the fight. A portion of them around her cheek were flattened, twisted. For a moment she was tempted to peel back the plumage to see the likely raw red skin beneath - but then she didn't see the point. She knew what was there anyway. Quickly, she splashed cold water on it, breathing in and building back up her strength, her control. She let the emotions come spiralling into her body, and accepted the anger that she had been keeping abated.

But not anger at Vitruvion - anger at herself.

"You really are an idiot sometimes Avis," she murmured to herself.

Then she ran a clawed hand through the feathers at her head and turned, going back through to her life.

He watched as she came back, blue eyes watching her carefully. Her walk was stronger, less dejected and powerful, and her mind a whirlwind of, Brother. You found the brother. That's good. You did good, just went around it in the wrong way. And she had done it - actually performed well and discovered the man they had been looking for, at least a mention of him. It had simply been her determination to ignore the man who was a ... her, literally her god. The same essence of a being who had created her race.

Bringing her eyes up to meet him she paused for a moment, before letting out a whisper. "Wine?"

Vitruvion's eyes glimmered a moment, the blue filling with softness and acknowledgement. Softness. A strange concept for him usually. Gently, he nodded, "I think that would be a good idea."

She picked up the to glasses and filled them, setting them down with a quiet clop, before sitting back in her place. Opposite him.

All in all she knew she wasn't going to apologise, and neither was he. It was never going to happen.

"So," he said, inviting the room with conversation once more. Stare blinked a few times, forcing herself to concentrate back again. To be willful, objective, tough.

I am Stare ... I am a kenku. I am a steward of a god.

Vitruvion raised his chin, proudly straightening his back. "What you found was useful. It is highly possible that this apparent ..." He narrowed his eyes, "'brother' of mine did influence Sabazios, to the point where he became what he was not." He took a pause, and eyed her determinedly. "Stare, what I did I had to do. You know this. And I will not hesitate to discipline you again, should the need arise. I will always warn, my kenku, but I had to do it."

He said it like he regretted it. Stare didn't know - she never would, she considered - but that was the way of things. That was her life now, and would be for some time. The only way to really live was deal with it, move on and live her life as it was given.

As she had been. As she would into her aged days, serving a god who was flesh. Honestly, she knew how to act, it was simply stupidity that her led her into this situation. Her presumption that she would not ever have to suffer again at his hands.

By Ansaldo's balls ... She had been so wrong.

"I know you did, Vitruvion," Stare replied in a low, but firm voice. Her black eyes, piercing and knowing focused, "And I know. You ordered, I disobeyed."

For a while he looked at her, with a calmness that seemed to emulate his godhood, then he nodded slowly. "Yes, my dear, you did. For that amount of times ... Punishment must occur."

"Are we allowed to go back to the subject of the text?" Stare asked, stress in her voice.

He pursed his lips slightly, but then he raised a hand. "You seem to have got the point, therefore ..." He looked back at the papers, and paused before nodding. "Yes. The unconscious mage told me finally that he worships a minor demon. My guess it is also Sabazios, and that this ... Bounty Hunter Guild is in fact, in part, given resources by the very small church and the church gains money back."

He picked up his goblet and went on, as if nothing had occurred in the last ten minutes. It was exactly the way Stare wanted it and she actually found the tension around her heart breaking somewhat.

"What my ... This," at the next word he spat, "'Brother' - and remember, neither I, nor Ventrua know of no other half-gods from Ansaldo here - what he is may be one of many things but I do not think we can underestimate him. Now, from analysis I have figured out the details of where other stations of the Bounty Hunter's Guild might rest but our focus is going to be finding Sabazios' church." He slammed down his goblet, his eyes suddenly filled with determination. "Because that is where the power is coming from, that is where the influence lies ... And that, I believe, my dear ..." He gazed at her with protective, knowing eyes.

"That is where we will find him."

-FIN-

[Stare]

You grew up in riches ... I grew up in poverty. You lived on the mountain of the gods, I lived in the slums of the dirtiest city.

My mother was a whore, and she was met by the god in the night,
not knowing who he was. He raped her, left her and I was born unwanted and unloved ... But I knew what I was. I knew what I could be. I saw the way the rich men threw poor into the gutters, in saw the murder in mortal's eyes. I saw my half siblings worshipped as gods as I suffered, and they kill each other in bloody contests. I saw brother kill brother, the poor man best the rich man to death and I learned. I learned all mortals are sick.

All mortals deserve to be left alone and to die.

But you my brother, the one who is supposed to be above us all ...
I have seen you play around with these things. I have seen you test them, laugh at them, but also respect and even caress them. I have seen the ... Goodness you spread and I am sickened by you, brother. I came to this world because I had no where else to go anymore. Our father said, "Either give up your godhood or go to another world," when he saw me killing all the other siblings we had, and I chose move. So he sent me here, and I hoped to find you cursing these cruel creatures for what they are. But ...

Brother, oh brother. You have gone to far. Playing god, giving hope ... This cannot be. You play with mortals too close and must learn. Learn of me, learn that I have been watching for fifteen years now, waiting. And now I strike.

My name is Vardrexis, son of Ansaldo, the One God of Ansaldo's world, and I am here to shut down your empire

[Breaker]

Thread Title: Of Kith and Kin
Judgment Type: No Judgment

Stare receives 3800 EXP, 350 GP and "Five blue marbles. Made from a glass that can be enchanted. Tiny little balls, about two inches maximum across." (assuming they are calli glass, let me know if you want this changed).

Nevin receives 700 EXP and 80 GP.

Sorry for the delay, I assigned you each some bonus rewards to make up for it. Congratulations!

[Breaker]

All rewards added.

Stare reaches level 6!