Of Kith and Kin

[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-