Music And Friendship (Mature - Violence)

[Avin]

Includes gore and violence themes.

McKinley and the Crows Part One

I was not certain who I was.

I was a being who had been raised from the dead, one whose plumage had been bleached like I had lain out in the sun too long. I was someone who had been sent, on the orders of a demon I was unsure of and a half god who I knew by instinct I had been brought back to serve, to recent attempt to destroy an entire city.

My plan had worked. For a while. Many chickens and fowl had I taken the lives of, and horses and cows had been my next prey. Over the course of four weeks I had ripped Beinost's lives asunder - chaotically - only to end up coming face to face with another kenku. One who had whispered my name like she knew me. Like she knew who I was from that other life. As I strode from Beinost I felt weary and confused, but most of all lost. For I did not know who I was anymore.

Of course, I had killed her. Mostly - partly - for the scent of death to rise to my nostrils. Ah, a bird's death is different from a mammals. You can feel the very fibres of each feather filling your nostrils and almost tickling the inside of your throat. Also, she was clearly an enemy, having snuck up on me like that. I knew that the enemy - my master's enemy, and thus mine - had a kenku of their own and so just in case I had ended her. Then, as a voice crying out the word, “stare,” very loudly had come on the wind I had scarpered. That last night had been my own anyway, and I had killed an enemy.

But she had known my name. She knew me from the past I had very little idea of. Or had known me. She was dead now.
So now I was wondering the lower fields of south Raiaera, drinking in the sorrows of the land. About a mile off I had ceased to run and now I strode with my naginata in hand and my beak uttering a sigh. I had killed a connection to my past life in case she was the enemy, and fled in fear of myself. I had left the clue behind about what I had forgotten and now I stalked the grasslands, lost and confused. Not certain what to do, not sure what direction to go in now.

Scratching my head I sighed and slumped against an old and lonely tree, letting my undead body slide down the bark. My mighty naginata spear I let drop to the side as I tugged on the cuffs of my gloves, making sure they were tight on. Then I let my eyes fall forwards as the light of dull dusk began to spill across the landscape. Before me stretched years of grass, eons of horse lands. A soft wind blew and it was peaceful. Quiet.

But it was not good. It did not fill my soul with satisfaction. I imagined if my heart still beat it would be palpitating ridiculously as I sat there, trying to think about what and who I was, and if I truly wanted to delve deeper into the mystery of the other kenku. Though she was dead, there were still other lines of discovery I could inspect. But did I want to.

I was lost in this dilemma when I suddenly heard a soft harmony of strings.

I sat up, hearing a noise I had only dreamt about. Had old memories of.

… Music.

[loves.blessing.]

The voyage across the sea to Raiaera was not kind. McKinley had hoped that the water would be tame but the waves had thrashed and almost capsized the cargo boat she was aboard. The thunder cracked loudly, lightning lit up the sky and the Gods wept of Kinley’s betrayal. She had left her home, her companion- direwolf Nymeria and her sweet love, Joshua.

It had all become too much for the redhead, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like a lead ball in her belly it weighed heavily on her dragging her deeper into this darkness. On the last full moon McKinley had stood in its silver glow, bathing her milky complexion and prayed to the Goddess for guidance. The silence was deafening to the prized violinist as she sunk to knees, her pleas-sobs filled the silent night.

The next day she told Nymeria to go find Josh and stay with him for a bit. A short, brief note was placed on her kitchen table for her beloved in case he stopped by. She now stood on the deck of the ship, her red locks billowed in the wind like a pirate flag. The mist licked at her cheeks as she inhaled deeply, the salty air filled her lungs. She had no plan, no place to go but anywhere was better then sitting and waiting for an answer on what was going on with her.

~~~~~~~~~

She was shaken awake by a crew man, “we are at port miss,” McKinley wiped the sleep from her bright crystal blue orbs. “I-I must have fallen asleep last night after the storm passed,” she murmured softly sitting up. “Aye you did, miss.” The crew man bowed his head quickly before walking up the stairs to the deck of the ship.

Reaching down McKinley’s bandaged hands wrapped themselves around her small knapsack and viola case she had brought with her. Quickly she raced up the stairs to the deck where she was greeted by some of the crew man, others hustled to get the trading goods to the marketplace.

“Excuse me,” she spoke softly to what she assumed was the first mate that stood barking orders. “Can you by chance tell me where the most peaceful place is here?”

The man gave her a puzzle look, “I believe that to be the meadows on the outskirts of town lass.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled softly taking off towards the direction he had pointed. Her little legs carried her through the sea of bodies in the marketplace. The bustle of the town made her uneasy by the time she was towards the outskirts of the trading post she was practically running. Her lungs burned as she pushed her little legs to carry her faster.

When she came to the end of the town she was huffing and puffing, she folded over trying to catch her breath. McKinley straightened herself up and looked around, the large meadow stretched as far as the eye could see. She smiled softly at the isolation and walked a bit further.

Finally satisfied with were she was she sat down her things and unlocked her instrument case. A beautiful cherry wood viola sat nestled in it along with a bow and some rosin. She smiled before picking the wooden instrument up. Her shoulder and chin cradled it as she tested the stickiness of her bow across the strings. It gave a loud squeal, she adjusted a cord by tightening it and loosening another.

Quickly her hands were at work flowing fluidly up and down the neck of the viola, low and highs blended together. The melody she played was sorrowful and sombersome, her head bobbing with the flow of the cords, her eyes closed, a serene look on her angelic features as she played with all the emotion she could muster.

[Avin]

Music.

And good it was too. I sat up, straight, my ears straining, though they were just holes beneath the mess of my light grey feathers. My eyes grew large with intrigue as the music continued, scanning the wild fields for the source. At that moment I wanted a working heart - one to beat in time with the song. For the music, it was perfect. It was just the melody I needed to pull me from my uncertain, lost state.

East. It was coming from the east, I deduced.

Swiftly I stood, and I grabbed my naginata. The rest of my weapons - the iron katana, wakizashi and tanto - fell into place at my side. My bare chest, covered in plumage, I bared to the sound as I stared in the direction I would soon head. For a moment longer, however, I stood and faced the music, letting it fill me with utter wonder.

Who was it? What was it? How was it so … soothing?

It was not like the drums of the demon's temple. Nor was it like the sound of steel meeting steel - the music of war. Instead this was real, pure creation, and it made me suddenly feel … something.

I rolled back my shoulders and began to run again, my back claws leading deep scores in the flesh of the earth. My eyes dancing with rare intrigue I rushed towards the distraction that I so needed, desperately thirsty for its goodness.

It got louder as I went. And I could discern that it was strings. In the distance I saw a town - I think I had passed it earlier in the day - with the purple dusk setting behind it. But the music did not come from there, no. It was ... outside it. Closer. Strings. I kept running as the image before me formed and I began to see the source.

The source. A person. Sitting in the grass, wildflowers around her as a fairy garden. In her hands she held an instrument of some kind that I did not know the name of, and she was playing something sad, but enchanting. Beautiful.

I skidded to a halt in front of her, my vivid black eyes staring. My beak was parted, eager as I stopped five feet from her, my naginata to the side, blade definitely away and not threatening.

I blinked as she met eye contact with me. Her hands paused on the neck of the instrument, her pink plush lips fell open slightly. The music stopped, something I definitely did not like.

Shaking my head I gestured with my free hand at what she had been playing. In my throat I made a wordless grunt, indicating that I wanted her to go on. Her gaze never left my own but her fingers started to dance again, the other hand slid the bow across the strings. The melody was slow with short staccato notes.

Pleased at that I gave a nod to her as the music filled my ears again. If I could, I would have smiled the way humanoids with lips do. Instead I could only relate my emotions through the gleam in my eye. As she went on I decided to sit, an awkward peace settling. But I was not the sort who cared much for awkwardness. I just wanted to listen to her song. And so I took to slouching on the ground again, laying my spear down.

Saying nothing, but listening.

[loves.blessing.]

McKinley could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears, it almost drowning out the sound of her music as she continued to play. The bird-man seemed pleased with the music and she didn’t want to anger him. Her hands visibly shook as they moved up and down the wooden neck of the viola.

She swallowed around the lump that was slowly forming in her throat. Her fingers started to burn under their bandages from the extensive workout they were getting. McKinley pushed herself to work past the pain, instead she used her pain in the melody as the short staccato one ended. Flowing into a high almost shrilling notes, she poured her pain from her fingers into the the frets of the instrument.

She squeezed her eyes close, the sting of tears formed behind her lids. She could feel the blisters tear open. The viola dropped to her lap as she gasped softly, a slightly red stain bled onto the white bandages. Her gaze shot down to her hands then to the bird-man.

“I-I’m sorry my hands, they are still recovering from severe frostbite.” Her voice was much more timid than the music she played.

There was a silence before a low, gnarled voice answered. “It's fine.” That was all. He sat still, staring.

McKinley looked back down at her hands as she slowly unwrapped the bandages. Her hands shook, she winced as the air hit her now open wounds. The large blisters were now torn open, raw-red flesh exposed as she cursed under her breath. She caught her lower lip in between her teeth as she whimpered softly.

“I’m McKinley,” she gasped.

She tried to find something else to put all her attention on. Her gaze bore into the bird-man as she gulped in breaths of air. The sensation of her hands felt as if she had dipped them into acid then water.

He was quiet for a moment. “Avin,” he grunted. “Your … music. It's good.” His black eyes dropped down to look at the viola.

“Thanks,” she followed his gaze to her instrument, “it’s a viola, kind of like a violin but bigger.” She was hoping he knew what a violin was, didn’t everyone?

“Right,” he said, in a clueless tone. It sounded like he had no idea.

McKinley tried her best to use her hands as she pointed at the small opening in the instrument called an f-hole but resembled more of a S shape. “They vibrations that come from the cords,” she quickly moved her hands to the metal strings that ran the length of the instrument. “They bounce around inside the wooden body of the viola to expand the sound.” She knocked on the wooden instrument and winced instantly from the pain it caused her hands.

[Avin]

I watched the pain in her eyes and linked it directly to my own I had felt before. The many times I had suffered death again and again. All in order to see just what my body could do. Really, it was miraculous and I had my masters to thank when it came down to it. I just wished the half god would stop doing it when I least expected it. It was why I was willing to have this conversation just now, so I could extend my time away from going back to the temple. Home.

That and … her. I needed to figure out my own thoughts. Just what had I killed back there, why did she know my name?

I dropped my view down to look at the injured hands. Pointing at them with a gloved claw I asked: “Healing?”

Her soft features looked confused at what exactly I meant. She held out her hands, slightly pushed out as if she was offering them to me to examine. I glanced at them but shook my head. I had no idea what to do with mortal flesh. It was clear I needed to add some pronouns and verbs.

“Are they healing?” I asked. “I don't know … flesh. Forgotten it.”

Her gaze fell to her hands, a small pink color danced across her cheeks. “Uhm- they will heal in time I suppose.”

Twice I nodded before pulling back my hand. I grunted, and then let my lungs empty of the last morsels air. It came out as a grunting sigh. Then I filled them back up, preparing them for their only use these days - speaking.

“Good. More music then.” Music was good, I decided in that moment. Like death and smells, it was good. Especially what this … McKinley played.

I found myself given a rare opportunity to examine one of the other people of this world. Aside from the demon, the half god (my masters, good blessings on them both) and the few mages and devoted servants that lived around the temple. Last time I had spoken to anyone it had been a halfling priest and that had gone … interesting would be one word for it.

I was determined to not let this chance go by me. First, I wanted to know more about her music. “You play … professionally?”

She nodded her head slowly, “I used to be a prized violinist, which is an instrument like this one but smaller. Looks exactly the same besides the size and sound.”

I looked down at the instrument she called a 'viola’ and eyed it's long, reddish length. Tight strings were wound between a small piece of wood and rods at the end of the longer, thinner part of the body. It seemed right to call it a neck, thus I did. I did not breathe as I observed the instrument, for I did not need to talk. I wondered if it unnerved her as my eyes went over to the long stave she had in her hand that had been pulled over those strings. The thought intrigued me, so I let my eyes look for longer, holding my whole body completely still before I looked back up at her.

“Never heard music,” I confessed.

The evidence of shock marred her innocent features, she tilted her head sideways in a way to see if I was joking. My silence gave her the answer that she obviously was looking for. “Wow, never heard music. I don’t mean to sound crass but where are you from that you have never heard music?” Her tone dripping with curiosity.

My shoulders lifted and fell. “Might have done once. But - not since I came back.” I fixed her with a steely look before my eyes fell. “Don't remember much.” I picked at the edge of my right glove, feeling that emotion people sometimes called 'awkwardness’.

[loves.blessing.]

McKinley’s features twisted from wonder to confusion in a matter of moments, how odd was this creature-being. Came back, where did he go to begin with? She thought to herself, she assumed simply that he was maybe from another land by the way his eyes drank in her instrument.

Her lips fell into a frown that creased her brow deeply. “I am still in awe at the fact of a few things along with confused by the others.” She realized that she was speaking in riddles to Avin.

“I apologize, I am confused by what you mean come back, along with you have never heard the voice of a woman or man singing or-or a bunch of instruments coming together to make a band?” She simply couldn’t wrap her head around how sheltered Avin was.

The bird man put his head to the side as he lifted his eyes up to look at her. First he pointed to his chest, and kept it there for a long time. It did not rise or fall. Kinley strained her crystal blue orbs. Why-why isn’t he breathing? “Why aren’t you breathing are you alright?” Her voice a little frantic.

“Don't need to breathe,” he explained slowly. “Only when I talk. I came back … from death.” He lifted his bleached shoulders in a shrug. “Don't remember living at all. Since then … no music.”

An absurd amount of questions flooded her mind. HOW did he die, why was he brought back to life? HOW was he brought back to life? She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. “Okay…” she tried to find a way to put words together, she was simply dumbfounded. Her mouth hung slightly ajar as she physically looked as if she was struggling.

She didn’t wish to pry but as saying goes curiosity killed the cat. “How did you die, and why and how did you come back?” Her lips pursed, her brow drawn together as she really was trying to maul all this information over.

He looked at her for a long moment before grunting. Slowly he took a large lungful of air, the chest finally moving. “I died a few years ago. Hunted to death by … enemies. I was - am - a warrior.” He took a pause and his hand flinched from his lap to his long spear. “I was brought back by … my masters. A demon and a godling.” He ran a hand to gesture his face, his eyes squinting with distaste. “Used to be black in colour. Now … white. Ugly.”

McKinley cringed at the word Master, she herself had been a slave over five years ago and still the branding on her shoulder and the scars on her back haunted her. “Avin, you aren’t ugly, I-I could help you stain your feathers back to black?” She offered him a sad smile. “As for your Masters, I am sorry they didn’t let you find peace with your death and brought you back.”

She sighed softly, her gaze fell to her tattered hands as she carefully and slowly started to wrap the bandages around them once more. “I used to be a slave some years ago,I know how it feels.” Her voice was soft almost barely above a whisper.

He looked at her with brow furrowed. “Slave? I'm not -” he shook his head. “I was brought back to serve them. So - I do. That is my purpose, they said.”

McKinley winced slightly at his description, the way he described his purpose was that of a slave. Who was she to thrust such a degrading word upon his unknown title. “I apologize… I shouldn’t have been so forward..” She bowed her head slightly not wanting to meet the gaze of the bird-man.

He huffed. “I have no memory of my life, apart from dying. I have nothing other than this. They brought me back - they explained it all. I don't know what else to do.”

Slowly she nodded her head, trying to find the correct words to say without sounding crude. “In- in my world when you have a Master that you obey, they own you… You are considered a slave. I mean no degrading slur by this I just assumed that was what happened to you..” She didn’t wish to anger him but she wanted to him know that these Masters of his were probably in fact using him like a slave.

“They created me. One is half god. That makes him …” he seemed to be frowning greatly, the whole idea confusing him and making him frustrated. “Vindrexis said I am back 'to serve’. That is it. I am here to kill his enemies … who are mine now. Yes?” His eyes flashed up to stare at Kinley’s. “How are you not a slave anymore?”

“I-I escaped and when my Master came for me, he was killed by my hands…” she said softly, her gaze left his for a moment to glance down at her hands then back to meet his dark stare. “They- they didn’t create you Avin, you were already living before they ripped you from the afterlife to do their bidding.” His name rolled off her lips with ease for the first time since having met him. She frowned softly at him. “I am sorry but in this world you are if you told people that you had a Master’s whose enemies you cut down because he bidded you to, most- would consider you a slave…”

Frustrated, he shook his head and his hand now gripped properly around his spear. “I have nothing but this. This and the smell of death. You do not understand. You-” he looked at her. “Come and meet them, then you will understand.”

McKinley’s heart sunk, she drew in a sharp breath. “I- I don’t want to meet your Master’s that trick you so- so they can add me too their collection. I just became free.. I- I can go back…” Her thoughts were sporadic, her heart pounded against her breast bone as she shook her head vigorously.

[Avin]

She had it all wrong. I was not a slave. Slaves were property, bought and sold at markets who had no choice in who they served and were beaten, given nothing but rags, treated with little to no respect. I was very different to that. Vindrexis had explained it to me thusly - I was a warrior, and in life I had followed orders. Now that I had been brought back my orders were different and those who I took them from were different too, but it was the same situation. They had more authority even so than my past rulers. One was a half god, the other a demon. They were incredibly powerful and knew many more things than I did. As my creators they held the highest possible will over me. With that in mind I had sworn fealty to them. And they had given me gifts, such as better knowledge of how the world should work, and my restored weaponry. Yes, Vindrexis had a habit of killing me in the most annoying of times, and that had made me want to take this break. This concept of slavery - was nonsense.

Shaking my head I began to stand, using my long spear as a crutch as I went. After ensuring all my other weapons were safely and practically situated I held out a hand to her. This human girl (at least by appearance) who I was steadily finding fascinating. She argued, but by the stars her music and her passion was beautiful.

“Come with me,” I said, “I promise, if you want to leave, you will be able to.”

“If- you promise I can leave when I want to and they won’t make me a slave I will meet your Masters.” Her voice was soft as she stood up, her legs shaking slightly. I extended my gloved hand better to her, scooping it under her elbow.

“I will talk to Vindrexis when we arrive. I am sure he will let you go when you want.” I gave her a firm nod, moving my hand to be a support for her as she got her balance. “I cannot promise for I am not his voice … but you will be able to leave.”

She took a deep breath, “as long as I can leave…”

“I promise you will be able to leave.” I told her, and in my heart I was certain of this fact. I was sure I would be able to persuade Vindrexis that she would be able to go. After all, my purpose was to show McKinley the good in my creators, the truth that they were actually not my enslavers. I was determined for this, and it was a simple little thing, and nothing to keep her at the temple for. All she needed was to be shown.

I waited until she had gathered her things, and then offered her my arm. Cheerily, I smiled at her, forcing the emotion to the surface, even it was born from mostly fakery. Indeed, I was happy that she had accepted my offer, and I did like this musician, and I liked having a being to talk to who was other than the lords I served. Other than myself. But I was not fully enthusiastic about anything anymore - aside from killing.

“Have you ever smelt the scent of death?” I asked as we began walking.

The red head gave me an odd look for such a random question, “uhm- yes I have why do you ask?”

I looked at her surprised. “Not many do. Or not many seem to be able to understand that it is there.” I blinked. “I am attuned to it. For me, it is … strong. Pungent. Beautiful.”

The one scent that I truly lived for, that filled my nostrils with its strength and joy. Like a burnt odour, but stuffed with sweet notes, that made my insides tremble and my body feel like it was truly alive - with blood, a heart and everything.

I watched as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, she nibbled on the plush flesh for a moment before releasing again. “Some death can be beautiful yes but I don’t think I have ever thought of the smell that way..”

My head tilting I kept on speaking. This was quite the most I had spoken in a few weeks. The last time had been with my lord Vindrexis over what different countries in this world used for manners of execution. Currently he was working through the list, working from the simplest to the harshest. Being hung, drawn and quartered was next, hence why I had been eager to not get home faster.

But now I had another reason to go there.

“Some deaths are very beautiful,” I nodded. “I have seen many. I have killed many.” I paused, looking back at the front. “I am good at it.”

She tilted her head slightly as if to get a better look at me. “I don’t mind people killing, my lover kills and fights for a living. I do however don’t like innocent blood shed.” Her tone was almost like that of a mother scolding a small child.

So, she had a lover. I twisted my head to look her up and down. There was a good figure beneath her purple blouse and black, snugly fitting trousers. It was strong, with arms built with muscle that had played on strings over the course of years. There was a decent waist, a good pair of boots upon her feet. As for myself - I strode beside her without any clothes save for my gloves and etchu-fundoshi. Looking away I let the thought of my appreciation of her looks fall to the side. They were too distracting for now, and not beneficial in letting her see the truth of my situation.

“Last being I killed was their - my enemy,” I said, my brow furrowing. “But she told me my name when I have not ever met her. I was - am confused.”

She pursed her plush lips, “so you killed her because she knew your name? How was she your enemy? The restrictions of you killing someone seem very weak Avin..” She frowned, casting her bright blue gaze at me.

I furrowed my brow. “No, I killed her as she is my enemy. The enemy of my masters. She works for Vindrexis’ worst enemy, who is wholly …” Evil? Was this other god evil? I did not know. Certainly he was bad, at least in my masters eyes. I took a pause, then finished. “Wrong. He is wrong.”

“So your Master’s enemies are your enemies and you kill your Master’s enemies for them.” She nodded slowly processing the information I gave her. “You Master Vindrexis also has an arch rival that also has a slave that you killed for your Master … hmm.”

“I am not a slave,” I growled at her suddenly. I hated the word, it was sick and putrid. “He is a god. Half a god. The other is a demon. I have sworn fealty to them.”

I kept my head up, determined to show her the truth. That I had my own rights and thoughts and that I was different to a beaten and bruised object. That I was not a possession, but an individual.

[loves.blessing.]

Finally the entered what seemed to be almost a valley, the land was filled with hills. Trees and greenery peppered out across as far as the eye could see. They two climbed and descended many hills, McKinley’s legs burned with all the walking they had done. Just as she was about to ask if they were close he stopped and nodded his head.

A village nestled between two hills, a simple stream and many little house and brick buildings freckled the land. Beyond the village sat a temple, it was slack gray color a flat rectangle-oblong type shape, it looked to be a temple. The sky behind beyond that set the valley a blaze with its red-orange hue it casted.

“Is this where your Masters are located?” She tossed him a confused look. It was not what she expected but then again she honestly wasn’t sure what to expect.

Avin looked at her and nodded. He pointed at the temple. “That is the temple of the demon lord Sabazios, one of my masters. A few months ago Vindrexis came to him. They abide there together. The village is where Sabazios remaining loyal followers abide.” He began to walk and gestured. “Come.”

McKinley was overwhelmed by all of it but she still followed as they walked towards the village, the smell of fresh, following water filled her nose. Her stomach flipped and turned with anxiousness as they neared the village.

As they entered the village McKinley’s bright gaze darted left and right, drinking in the wooden houses and brick buildings. As they drew further into what Kinley could only assume is the main area- a court yard she could see people. Mostly males were what she saw but a few females were scattered throughout the townspeople.

They seemed to be in intense training for only a few lifted their gaze to look at them. McKinley moved slightly closer to Avin, uncertain of their intentions or behaviors. She sighed with relief as they put their heads back down and continued with their training.

Her heart clenched as they made their way up the steps of the temple, though only a few. Kinley stopped suddenly and turned to Avin, “just remembered you promised me he wouldn’t hold me captive. If you truly aren’t his slave like you claim to be- I am trusting you Avin.”

For a moment the bird-man looked at her before he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “I will talk to him.” Then he looked at the rectangular stone entrance before them and straightened himself. “If I go missing, do not come looking for me. I will instead come to find you within a few hours.” Slowly he blinked and nodded. “Room. I have a room. Second door on left within.”

Then he boldly began to stride up the rest of the stairs, lowering his head and picking up his spear. McKinley fought the urge to follow him as she watched him. “That isn’t very comforting knowing you may go missing,” she said after him but he was too far from her to hear.

She stood there for a few more minutes on the steps of the temple. Finally gathering all the courage she could muster McKinley ascended the stairs. She pushed open the heavy door to the temple and took a deep breath as she walked in, the door slowly closing behind her.

The interior of the temple was large, open and spacious. Two large pillars supported the weight of the structor. The room was dimly light, a small amount of candles littered the door ways. A dais sat at the far end of the temple which led to a large stone throne, upon the throne sat a man- a large man. He looked like an overstuffed sack of meat in the toga he was sporting. Two his right stood another man, this one handsome in looks and cunning in features. His white looks almost illuminated his face, even from a distance McKinley saw an intrigued look in his gaze as he eyed her up and down.

Second door on the left within. She thought as she scurried in that direction, hoping to get away from the intense gaze. McKinley walked into Avin’s room and was confused. It was like an unoccupied guest room. A simple wooden bed with plain sheets, neatly made. At the end of his bed sat a trunk with the top open to show his clothing. “I am not in my cottage any more,” she murmured softly setting her knapsack and viola case down as she sat at the edge of his bed hoping that Avin wouldn’t disappear for hours.

[Avin]

“You took sweet fucking time,” Vindrexis shrugged away from the wall he had been standing and started towards me. For a moment I held him in my eyes before I stopped five feet from the throne and settled into a bow.

“My lords,” I murmured.

Sabazios shifted a little, his fat barely covered by the deep blue fabric that was wrapped around him. His eyes glanced from me to Vindrexis, who came stalking closer. For a moment longer kept in my bow, before straightening and turning my black eyes on the half-god. His white hair was pulled back from his face with the familiar grey strip of fabric. Slowly he came towards me, arms folded still, coming down the dais until he was less than a foot. Those glorious bronze eyes stared at mine, and he narrowed his eyes before grunting and pulling away.

“Report?”

For a moment I blinked before I realised he wanted news of my mission. “I crippled the city, my lord,” I said, spinning my eyes back to look at Sabazios as Vindrexis began to circle me. “They were near starving when I left and - I killed the kenku.”

A breath suddenly sucked in near my elbow. The white haired godling appeared at my other side and it took strength to not jump. “You killed her - the other one?” His eyebrows were raised. Then he sighed. “Idiot, you were supposed to get her alive. Stupid idiot of a-” and he continued to curse me as he slapped a hand across the back of my head.

I blinked, but made no other gesture as the pain resounded around my head - mostly because I was used to such things. Agony was just part of my undead life, after all. So I stood there, unmoving, simply blinking as he vented his anger through the use of colourful words.

“Nevermind, at least he will be weaker without her,” he waved a hand and came around to my front. “What I want to know is what the girl is?”

Ah yes, McKinley. She was in my room with some hope, and so out of sight. I lifted my naginata into more of a saluting position as I looked to Vindrexis. “My lord, she is a musician. A …” I could not say friend. That was far too fast. I was not too sure if I had any right now. “A recent acquaintance. She ... “ I paused, knowing already that Vindrexis could not read my mind and thus I could lie to him. “She wanted to meet the most noble lords,” I inclined my heads to them one after the other, “But - she wants to be able to leave here.”

There was a pause in his step and a sound of his boot scraping along the ground. Vindrexis paused, and then grinned, his marvellously endearing smile spreading from cheek to cheek. His expression went kind, gentle and eerily inviting.

“Of course she will be able to leave,” he said in a soft, warm voice. “Lead on.”

He gestured with a hand that uncoupled from his fold. WIth a glance to Sabazios I received a simple nod as communication to the demon, and then I bowed again before turning. Picking the spear off the floor I started off, dimly aware of Vindrexis following close behind. Sabazios had said nothing, but that was not unusual. Between the two of them Vindrexis was the mouthpiece, the idea creator and the brains. The demon lord … this was his land. His men. They each had authority over me and in vain I tried to treat them both the same, but I knew Vindrexis was truly the one who directed many things. After all, he was clever and brilliant. He had come to Sabazios to show him the truth of the way of things, and help him purge his followers, guiding him into the way of how things should be in the world, and leaving the past behind.

Gods, after all, I knew now, should always be in charge.

[loves.blessing.]

McKinley grew more and more anxious as the time passed. What had happened to Avin, was he okay? What did he mean if he disappeared? The questions over took her mind as she fidgeted with her bandaged hands. Music, music was the only thing that would calm her storm.

“Are you, are you coming from the tree. They strung up a man, they say he murdered three. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” He voice was soft but filled the small room as she sung. She closed her eyes for a moment as the lyrics filled her. Her voice was smooth and velvety.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be-“ the sound of someone clearing their throat made he freeze. Her gaze was met by the white haired man. “He-Hello…” She stammered.

He smiled pleasantly at her, standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the candlelight. He had his hands cupped in front of him and seemed genteel, serene. Quietly Avin stepped around him and entered the room, dropping his head slightly as he did.

“My lord, this is … McKinley.”

The brass eyes blinked and looked at her. “Are you now? Avin says you have come to meet me. How … sweet.”

McKinley slowly nodded as she stood from the bed, “I wanted to meet Avin’s Masters yes… I guess it’s nice.”

She was a bit perplexed by his wording as she could tell by his tone he wasn’t sincere. She tilted her head to the sighed. Her red locks tumbled over as she studied the half god.

“And Avin said you were worried about being able to leave. Have no fear,” if possible, the smile grew. “You will be allowed to leave. But first, I-” He paused a moment and tilted his head, the smile lessening slightly. He blinked and studied her with scrutiny. “Hmmm …” he said.

McKinley froze when he stopped in mid sentence about her being able to to leave. Even her breathing had halted as his bronze gaze was intense, it was like he wasn’t staring at her but inside her. “Wh-what does Hmm mean?”

A hand raised to the half-god’s face, and he twisted around to look at Avin. His grin came back again and he looked back to McKinley, “Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight? And then you can tell me about your magic.”

She looked like a lost puppy, “magic? I don’t have any magic unless you count playing many instruments as magical….” Her heart beat against her breastbone.

“Power, or, abilities, then. Whatever you like to call it,” his voice was verging on the harsh, but he stopped then and pulled it back in to be gentle. “It would be very rude of you to refuse dinner from a willing host.”

“I-I will stay for dinner but I don’t know what you mean I am as human as they come.” Her tone was soft as she looked down at her bandaged hands studying the stains on them.

Vindrexis’ eyes followed hers. Pleasantly he stretched out his hands. “Here,” he said, gesturing for hers.

Timidly she offered one of her hands that was wrapped in a stained white cloth. She tried to be very still but her nerves made her hand shake.

The godling smiled eerily before he curled his digits fully around hers. He was silent a moment, then a small warmth began to pass into her fingers. Then he began to remove the bandages and as he did she could see the wounds beginning to heal.

McKinley gasped, her bright gaze held such wonder. “Marvelous,” she breathed looking up at the godling. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. She glanced at Avin and offered him a soft smile. Maybe she was wrong, maybe he really wasn’t a slave and his Masters were not like the two she had endured.