The Killing Name

Out of Character:

Closed to Philomel and Lillith. Round 1 of the Killing Lye arc

Night had come around again too soon.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris rested his head against the cool metal of the Whitevale council chamber door. With the candles extinguished, the sunset crept in through the open curtains, casting the ceiling a rusty grey. Outside, the night shift watched the horizon like hawks; twelve guardsmen loyal to his cause trying to defend his township against a group of former Council rebels the Telgradian wasn't even sure really qualified as higher primates anymore. Their significance paled so much compared to his obsession with Lye Ulroke that the former Brotherhood Council's rebellion, led by Ducos, had slipped into a level of triviality that put them almost beyond caring about. Shinsou’s hand ferreted around in his pocket for a piece of paper, but the information written on it was hardly sufficient to dull his mind. It was one of many such scraps; encrypted notes passed from his “Immortals” to him, for his eyes only. The complex network of spies he had set up was so secret that even Storm Veritas knew nothing about them. Osiris had established them as the Brotherhood’s first true black operations team, tasked with one purpose and one purpose alone.

Finding out the location of Lye Ulroke; leader of the Crimson Hand.

Months of misinformation, bad informants and red herrings had turned up nothing, even for the best of Shinsou’s top intelligence officers. Whilst the Brotherhood scurried around Salvar, feeding off tablescraps of rumours, Lye Ulroke moved around like a phantom. The Crimson Hand were well organized, well funded and remarkably good at keeping their operations covert, and even as Shinsou surrounded himself with the best in their respective fields, he realised soon enough that the Crimson Hand were better. It was absolutely infuriating.

Now though, on a bit of torn, bloodstained paper no larger than a beer coaster, words scribbled hastily leapt off the page at him.

”Seventh Sanctum, GWE”

He was almost stupid enough to believe the lead meant something.

With a sudden jerking movement Shinsou stepped back and opened the door, the cool air of his council chamber rushing in. He turned, locking the door in three places, and paced to his illustrious fur lined chair at the head of an oblong table, neither looking left nor right yet having complete awareness of the figures gathered there. There was a man on the corner nearest him fronting all sorts of documentation and maps for the Executor’s perusal, and an aide rounding the corner to present what appeared to be some sort of letter. The candles in the chamber were all lit up. Shinsou’s feet moved over the floor tile cracks, his body casual, his ears taking in every sound before he seated himself and the rest of his cabinet sat down.

“You may be wondering why I’ve called this meeting.” The Telgradian started, gesturing to the five other seats ahead of him.

The man on the corner, Harper Malley, coughed. “Is Executor Veritas not joining us?”

Shinsou stopped fidgeting in his chair and shook his head silently. “No. You'll understand why shortly.”

There was a nod from Harper, the subtle message received, his red seersucker suit flashing garishly under his soaking slicker. The other four men followed suite.

Clutching the note produced from his pocket earlier, the Telgradian pushed it up the table towards Harper. The analyst gathered up the parchment and read the words out aloud, flapping his lips abruptly. As Harper digested the small tidbit, Shinsou’s eyes gazed out through the only window in the room. Oppressive clouds had rolled over the town as soon as the sun had touched the horizon, ending the day before its full time had been spent. Now the clouds were beginning to empty their cargo out all over the city, flooding the streets with sudden ponds and streams that swelled and splashed up the pants of the few guards on the streets.

"Well," Harper eventually said, turning to the bald man beside him and passing on the note. "I hope that bit of paper isn’t the only reason you are dragging us through this deluge."

Shinsou, peering up at his analyst through the darkness, frowned and shook his head.

"From what limited intelligence we were able to gather, and I do stress the world 'limited', the Seventh Sanctum is the name of Lye Ulroke's personal fortress. I have confirmation of that from one reliable source, but no one either knows or are willing to tell me where the fucking place is."

"What's GWE?" the bald headed man piped up. "Seventh Sanctum. GWE?" The monk-like fellow read aloud again, as if dictating to the table a second time would make it any clearer.

I have no fucking idea. Shinsou thought to himself. "I was hoping one of you may be able to come up with something. Harper, any thoughts?"

Harper's newly acquired title, head of the Immortals, was a clunky weight around his neck. He had literally been out of touch with most of Shinsou's Brotherhood, and his old Whitevale haunt, for several years. Once he had known almost all the men in the Council. Now, having returned to a usurped organization, he found himself a ghostly presence in most people's minds, and a complete nonentity in many's. But, as Shinsou had told him, he was the best of the analysts and without Malley's influence in the wider circles of world diplomacy, very little progress would ever get made by the Brotherhood. Shinsou trusted him, and that was enough for the man, but this time even Malley didn't have the answers.

"I'm terribly sorry for the interruption, Executor Shinsou," The aide from before cut in, leaning foward, handing Shinsou a sealed envelope "A message from Philomel Vaan der Aart. It's important." Shinsou blinked several times and sighed, patting the table with his hand.

"We'll continue this later. In the meantime, I want every possible iteration and abbeviation of GWE. I want to know what it means, and I want to know yesterday, because I have a feeling that those three letters are the key to unlocking this whole problem."

Harper, and the bald man, nodded. "Men?" Harper added to persuade the others to leave the chamber, giving a half-hearted bow to a seated Shinsou, who looked pensive. The bald man sighed, and raised his arm. "Lead on," he said, and the four were off. It had been a dramatic day for the Brotherhood War Cabinet. Called to Whitevale by Shinsou's Immortals, they had slipped away, not giving notice to anyone, hoping that Storm Veritas didn't catch a whiff of their departure and send a lightning bolt after them.

As the remnants of the cabinet exited the chamber, Shinsou sat alone, his letter knife tearing through the wax seal containing the all-too familiar Van der Aart coat of arms. The last time he had seen her was in the Crystal Cavern; right before Am'aleh had saved him from an untimely death by transporting him to the tetra plane. Written in her measured cursive, the message sloped across the page.

Quote:

---

Dear Shinsou, if you are alive...

I have news. I have a daughter. No, I am not pregnant, but four and a half years ago now I gave birth to a young female faun. Her name is Celandine, and she is everything I ever hoped for her to be. It will surprise you, I know, for I have never mentioned her, and deliberately so. She was the idea of mine and Vaeron, so that if my legacy ever became something, which it has now, I suppose, then I would have someone to pass it onto.

Anyway. I have decided, finally, to make her mine. She was being kept in a brothel in Radasanth, under the guise that she was another whore's daughter. But now the day has come when I have claimed her as mine, and I know the rumours will begin. Very soon word will reach to my enemies that I have a child.

For now I have taken her to my fortress in the forest, the very same fortress which one of your men found all that time ago. Before we had the fight upon the shores of the endless stair case, before Beinost, before Amari. I have taken her there, Shinsou for the very reason that I fear that things are in motion. I have begun to hear rumours that the Crimson Hand is on the move in search of power, spreading its scarlet fingers in order to smite every enemy before they smite her. Thus, I made the decision to take Celdandine into my care, move her to the place I know she will be safe. Move her so that if I die, there will be someone to inherit everything I have worked so hard for.

Shinsou, I beg that you are alive. For I know the Crimson Hand will be seeking my death. Lye Ulroke has grown mad in his years of being a prisoner and then a wanderer. I have made my peace with Maddison Freebird, but Ulroke will not rest, this I know. I know you have your qualms with him, for he is the one who has poisoned Amari's mind and made her ... whatever she is now. I know she was once good, I know you once loved her. And I know you hate Ulroke. Thus, it is my intention to go straight for him, to kill him before he can get to me. To my daughter, to any of us. I am not taking my army, but I can take friends. And so it is I ask this.

I ask that you are still alive, Shinsou van Osiris, and I ask that you come with me to cut the head off the snake before it can strike. I ask that you and I did as we promised once to each other and end the life of Lye Ulroke for once and for all.

For I know where he likely is to be found. I was once part of their world, their secrets. You want revenge, and I can help you get it.

Please be alive, my dear friend.

Yours, Philomel van der Aart, Matriarch of the Gilded Lily

And PS: Vaeron is Celandine's father. Yes, he still prefers people unlike myself, and yes he is human. But a child of a faun and any other race will either adopt the full genes of one or the other, it is written into our bodies.

---

Rereading the contents of the letter, Shinsou's expression morphed from surprise, to stoicism and then back to surprise. Philomel had a daughter. That in itself was a shock to the Telgradian, but the shock soon transformed into understanding. It made sense that she had kept her in hiding all this time, this young Celdandine, away from the dangers posed by the Hand and Ulroke. To tell Shinsou would be one more person that could potentially leak the information, either accidentally or through torture should it have been neccesary.

Addressing the events between himself and Amari was always a way to pierce his stoic nature. The memories of their time together swirled liked a river through his mind; little pieces of flashbacks all melding into one completely fucked up timeline of events. Her rescue, their passion, her fall to Lye Ulroke, and now....

Now what? I don't even know if she is okay. I can't even sense her presence anymore.

Shinsou now knew so little of Amari's situation that he wasn’t certain how much of what he remembered her to be was actually still true. Had her soul continued to corrode in his absence? Would she even want to see him again? Shinsou had his doubts. It was more likely that she had gone back to Lye, to the Seventh sanctum, wherever the hell that was.

The Telgradian continued to examine the letter as these thoughts filled his head, his fingers combing through his thick, chestnut hair. He stalked the empty chamber like a lion circling prey, now thinking only about Lye Ulroke and Philomel's aptly-timed offer.

This is all well and good, but no-one knows where the little shit is!

This fact annoyed Osiris more than Lye himself. Shinsou had seen what the sadistic bastard was capable of; he’d seen the indifference for humanity that had crumpled Amari's will like parchment. That Lye Ulroke was her master, willingly, and Shinsou was completely unable to keep his promise about nobody ever laying a finger on her ever again burned him inside like an inferno, but not being able to do anything about it infuriated him further. His mind spun, trying to process the note and Philomel's offer. Even if they joined forces, what was their play? It would never be as simple as flushing Lye out, luring him into a trap, and wiping him out. Why? Because even a dehumanised Ulroke, with all of his arrogance and power, was smart enough not to pop his head over the parapet.

The situation would need time and patience, and he had at least one of those in abundance.

Finally calming down, the Telgradian seated himself once again and reached for his quill and parchment. His reply would assure the faun of his survival, of his understanding of her situation with Celdandine and acceptance of her offer, but it would be kept short and to the point. Matters could be discussed at length later. There were plenty of Hand spies about to intercept messages, and even with the skilled Immortals entrusted with courier duties, one could not be too careful.

Quote:

---

Philomel,

I hope this message reaches you in good health. I am alive and well, and we need to talk. I will send you an escort to Whitevale to ensure your safety. Meet me here and we'll set things in motion.

SvO

---

Underneath the warming mid-summer sun's heat, that was no longer choking but bareable, a dragon frolicked.

No, he was not the winged beast of nightmares and demons, and no he was not there to eat your children. This dragon could not breathe fire, he could not fly, and he could not tear through a whole army as if it were paper. Instead, this was a wingless, long and agile creature; his four legs athletic, his body reptilian, his face similiar to that of a horse, and his long tail a whip. Great claws that could gouge any boulder from a quarry danced across narrow streams and bright patches of green grass, and made deep furrows in the endless field of flaxseed, crops and grass that stretched before them. He charged merrily at the stalks of some young saplings, peering from amongst the grasses, snapped at white birds that his form disturbed, and made the peaceful natural chatter of the plains landscape grow wild and awry, as he disturbed the order.

Disturbed it, by making a mellow voice ring out with bright, glorious laughter.

Philomel van der Aart laughed, for she had two things to be greatful for. First, her daughter was back in her life. Celandine, the young four and a half year old, recently claimed back from a Radasanthian brothel where she had been hidden away all this time, had quickly become the darling of the warriors who inhabited the Gilded Lily fortress. Safe and secure within its nearly unattackable walls, she was now where Philomel knew. With the young faun's own father, Ramese Vaeron, and under the watchful eye of sixty well-trained warrior women. Over the last three days she had earnt the nickname "Dear Dine," from them, and it was called out so much now that it sounded like a chant.

The second thing that Philomel - Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, commander of the Lily army and soon to be scourge of Lye
Ulroke - was happy for, was that Shinsou van Osiris was alive. Her close, dear friend and staunch ally in the times of war. For so long after the battle of the Crystal Cavern she had persumed him to possibly be gone, but now she knew he was well. She had sent him a letter, begging him to be alive and requesting if he would help in her conquest to end the life of a maniac, and he had replied. Upon a pale-yellow piece of paper that was still tucked into her breast. Paper that had been folded so many times, and handled so often that it was now soft and limp. With few words, but they were so strong she now could not end the smile on her face.

"I am alive and well, and we need to talk. I will send you an escort to Whitevale to ensure your safety. Meet me here and we'll set things in motion."

Now she was on the back of her great bovine beast, known as a tera'k, with his soft, huge hooves and his black and white fur. Behind her on the saddle poised a rabbit and a fox. The rabbit, who went by the name of Mao, was currently snoozing, long legs stretched out, was currently annoying the fox. He, who went by the name of Veridian, was sitting upright, gold-amber eyes flickering around at the dragon and the other company that went with them. Unlike the rabbit he possessed a high intelligence of his own, and thus he regarded the three horsemen carefully stationed around the back of Philomel and the tera'k with some high suspicion.

I still do not see why we could have left earlier, and avoided this 'escort' he deems you to have.

Quite determined not to be broken from her jovial mood, Philomel turned around in her seat. Her own eyes flickered from the russet red and pure white fox, to the three black-robed humans on black steeds who rode to her direct back, and either side, trying to keep their horses in check as they shied naturally away from the cheery dragon. A shriek went up as Delath, for that was the dragon's name, disturbed a hidden kaka-birds nest. The foot-long grey-backed bird leapt up through the grass with a vehement cry, stabbing her beak at Delath's scaled face. Easily he swated her away with a large claw, and there was a sickening crunch as meat and eggs became his afternoon snack.

The three Brotherhood riders, the 'escort' Shinsou had sent to guide Philomel, had to calm their horses and looked equally as disturbed themselves. This made Philomel laugh more, her hands winding deeper into the fur and reigns of her tera'k beast, he himself a stone, and no longer weak to the strange sounds that life with a dragon made.

As she looked back to the horizon, Philomel finally replied to Veridian.

As I told you before, he wanted to send them, and so I let him. she shrugged, He knows where my secret world it, it is time I knew his. Yes, we could have likely found our own way to Whitevale, but this is better.

She invited the warmth of the sun onto her pale torso skin as it peered from behind a cloud. Her legs, covered in chestnut fur as they were, never truly felt the glory as her human flesh did.

Better for whom? Veridian scowled, looking between a mustached man and a bearded man. Finally they settled their horses and resumed their silent guard. Though one kept soundlessly whispering into his mount's ear. For your happiness or his self esteem?

Philomel thought back, with a smile on her face, to how she had met the men. It had been part the way into the forest, and she herself had had a small retinue of warriors. Ten guards, as well as Vaeron, her best friend and reluctant father to her child. The riders in black had not been able to fully see the Lily Fortress, but they had seen a sliver of the power Philomel wielded. It had been deliberate, to show them just who they were dealing with when they were sent to escort the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily. And just for effect Delath had dug his way out of the ground - his favourite home - and joined them on their journey. Laughing, Philomel remembered the initial looks on the riders' faces. Shock, horror, confusion.

For his self-esteem, to be sure, she nodded.

And then she was blinded as a shaft of pure white lanced down from the sun like an angry arrow. Filling her vision briefly with patches and blurs, the faun was required to cover her eyes with a hand briefly, as she blinked heavily. Behind her the riders did the same, one letting out a small yelp. Delath shoved his large head beneath the grasses, and their length hid that, but not his massive body behind. For a short while all they could do was grunt and rub eyes as their mounts carried them forwards.

And then -

And then there was sight. And there was the curve of a hill, and there it was before them, cast into view and reality - Whitevale, home of the Brotherhood. A limestone array of buildings, walls and forts, all carved up in with tiled roofs. A bell tower pierced the sky, and a great fort stood near centre, proud and able. Smoke rose from chimneys, heralding the idea of a town alive with industry, and the beginning of villagers, moving two and fro on balconies, in the main streets and in small windows could be seen - at first brief movement only, but as one got closer you could see their faces. Philomel's lip smirked, and her joyful mind that had been forgetting why they were doing this journey in the first place, took over again.

In that moment, Lichensith Ulroke and his maddness did not matter. His bloody power as he formed the Crimson Hand once again, his tortorous methods as pysically described and shown to Philomel now, his manipulation of the once sweet girl Amari ... for this moment that did not matter. Because finally, finally, the Gilded Lily was riding into the heart of the Brotherhood of the Castigars and friends would find each other alive. The greatest alliance between the mightiest of warriors was about to be formed, and all to kill a king who sat on a literal bone throne.

Eagerly, Philomel kicked her tera'k into a fast run, and the beast let out a moan before complying. Seeing this pace, Delath himself let out a hearty roar, before wagging his huge tail and cantering himself, all twenty feet of a monster. The three riders in black, they gulped in surprise, but encouraged their horses faster also, and soon the five galloping creatures were descending upon Whitevale.

The journey to destroy Lye had begun.

“Is he calling me a whore?” Lillith raised an eyebrow.

Arden looked up from his supper. “Sorry?”

“Listen to this.” She cleared her throat and re-read the opening line of the letter she had received, without a stamp, at the crack of dawn. “Dear Miss Kazumi, I would like to call upon your expertise in the whore houses.” She stared at her brother expectantly.

“Well, I’d be flattered.” He chewed a piece of beef. “He’s using connections to Chronicle to widen his worldview.”

“I’m a Geisha. G.E.I.S.H.A.” She tossed the letter onto the dining table and rested her hands on her hips disgruntled. “I am anything but a whore.”

“Go on.”

“He wants help finding Lye, so I’m already on board. But there’s a way to do these things tactfully.”

“You mean with more flattery and praise than Duffy’s grovelling?” Content, the swordsman set his cutlery down and leant back into his chair.

“Well. Decorum goes a long way.”

“This coming from the women who set fire to the Senate Building because the Minister for Trade called her robust?”

Lillith pouted. “He commented on my bust.”

“The real question you should be asking is why did the letter come here, to House Winchester, and why is Shinsou looking for Lye in the first place?”

Lillith had given it some thought, but answers only brought more questions. Leopold’s home was not exactly a secret. Anybody who was anybody in Scara Brae had spent an afternoon in it’s dusty gin soaked halls.

The Brotherhood welcoming committee gathered in Whitevale’s centre; a square surrounded by high domed walls and an elevated parade ground in the middle of the town, similar to that of any imperial army base on the island of Corone. The perimeter walls were completely covered with the scars of knives, swords and magical affliction that had accumulated over the course of decades of sieges. There were two heavily guarded gates in and out, between which a long road interrupted so that traffic could get in and out at the same time. Today guards lined the road in a singular state of attention, each one ready for the approach of their leader.

They remembered, as the Telgradian emerged from the barracks in the south whilst Philomel rode in from the north, how things had changed around Whitevale and the Brotherhood. Although it was not a democracy, the men had felt more comfortable with their loyalties since Shinsou and Storm had taken control. It hadn’t gone un-noticed that the men sitting at that top had come to power because they had cut throats and severed heads and flayed husks from the bones of their enemies to do it. But those enemies were Ducos’s men; savages and bastards who cared little for the common soldiery or their families beyond the next big power play. Life was different under Shinsou’s command – they felt like their loyalty and respect were being returned, and all of a sudden ambition and belief in what the Brotherhood could be had found tangibility here.

There were rumours going around that Shinsou Vaan Osiris was planning something far from normal. The scent of it was always there, a powerful, salty whiff every time another hushed meeting was called or an order for information from the archives issued that incensed the keen nostrils of the men and muddled their senses. Now, the Telgradian appeared to have summoned Philomel van der Aart to Whitevale, a powerful player within the Gilded Lily, with further speculation that other communications had left for several other important and powerful families.

Tension, anticipation and readiness was at an all time high, but no-one felt it quite like Shinsou.

On the town's northern side, when the wind was high and blowing from the south, the rain shattered on the rock walls and spray rattled over the bricks. As he peered out towards the northern pathway where he expected Philomel to arrive, his eyes veering across the rugged horizon edge, the Telgradian was reminded fleetingly of his other lifeline. Lillith, from the powerful and respected Winchester house, was probably now either reading or responding to his letter. She was perhaps the most subtle yet most important piece of the puzzle; connected to everything through her experience in the brothels run by Aurelianus. At least, that was what Harper and the Immortals believed, so that's what Osiris had run with. A great deal of thought and analysis had been put into the value of any information she may have held about Lye's whereabouts, and everyone at that meeting had come to the same conclusion.

It was imperative that the Winchesters be brought on board. Their own issues with Lye would give Shinsou a fighting chance of talking them round to the cause, but if there was one thing the Telgradian had learned it was that nothing on Althanas should ever be taken for granted.

"Escort approaching!" A guard sounded out from the gate as him and the officer of the day took their formations.

Another storm beat in time with Shinsou's heartbeat now, and monstrous waves shattered white against the jagged walls of his soul. In the gloom, the watching Telgradian could see the form of his one true friend approaching on the back of Delath. The dragon-like creature was recognisable in any weather, more so the minotaur like shape of the busty female rider and the blazing radience of her familiar Veridian. As the trio approached with zeal down the tree-lined pathway, Shinsou smiled.

Thank the gods for you, Philomel. It's damned good to see you.

There was a rough skidding sound as the Faun's tera'k pulled alongside the Telgradian, afforded just enough space by the contingent of guardsmen who had scrambled out of their way, with his huge hooves scuffing the gravel and his black and white fur ruffling behind him. Shinsou immediately noticed that there was another familiar poised on the saddle behind the recognisable fox Veridian. A rabbit, who Osiris did not recognise, was sleeping as if Delath had been travelling at crawling speed. Veridian was now sitting upright, his gold-amber eyes locked onto his own, whilst the beautiful Philomel began to unsaddle.

"It's been a while, my friend." Shinsou said with another smile, offering the Faun his hand before helping her from the stirrups. "I've missed you."

Philomel turned around and her own eyes flickered to Shinsou's.

"You're looking very well; i'm glad. Some very important things are happening right now. I badly need your help, Phi."

That "important thing" was why he had chosen to align with the Brotherhood. Shinsou knew that this unplanned uprising against Lye would serve a larger purpose in the end, much bigger than a petty squabble over territory, sovereignty or power. The Telgradian didn’t expect anyone to understand until the proper moment, even though people would be uncertain as to just what he was really resolving by killing the leader of the Crimson Hand. It was all about consolidation. It was all about revenge. The fight of the original Castigars, those small bands of survivors who had scattered all over the globe to evade extermination after their original defeat, had finished. Now, a new era was under construction. Very soon, the Brotherhood of the Castigars would re-establish themselves in global society with Shinsou and his men at the front, and he wanted his friends right there with him.

Her eyes came to meet his; solid sheets of slate grey against shimmering, endless gold. Unsmiling, she faced him, the man who had been dead but was now here, alive and thriving in his township kingdom. Behind her her tera'k gently lowed, a deep moan that seemed to unsettle some of the guards around her. From his back Veridian arched to his paws, his own eyes lazily taking in the men in the square they were, letting the bovine-interrupted silence continue for that moment. Nearby in the area Delath panted, his head held higher than anyone else, tongue slightly lolling to make his otherwise fearsome appearance that slightest bit more adorable.

"You need our help?" her eyebrow arched as she spoke for the first time since their new meeting, "Well."

Turning, she reached up and cupped her hands around the small rabbit's belly. Mao snuffled her hand but let the action be carried out. As she did, Veridian assessed the situation, his steady gaze moving around the circle of soldiers. He seemed suspicious, but behind the appearance Philomel felt that he was satisfied with their safety.

These men are all trusted by Shinsou, she told her beloved. And the black riders did not attack us on the road. I think we are safe. We will be safe.

I agree, the russet-coloured fox replied, sweeping his tail back and forth. Then, with a soundless leap he moved from saddle to ground.

With a nod to him, Philomel placed Mao on her shoulder, where the rabbit nestled down, burrowing nose into violet hair. Looking over to Delath, who seemed excited as a hunting dog, she eased into his mind a sense of ease. With a brief look to her the earth dragon huffed, but accepted her decision as wrote. Twisting around he opened his jaw wider than his panting allowed, and then plunged it into the earth, maw working furiously. To those who had never seen the earth dragon burrowing it was a sight beyond imagining, as he literally ate into the ground beneath him and dug with massive claws. Body wriggling Delath disappeared in a cloud of dust and to the chorus of gasps, just as Philomel turned back to Shinsou with a small smirk on her face.

"Shinsou, it is good to see you alive, but it was I who sent you that initial letter. What do you need that is more important than my mission?"

His answer was vague: "I need people I trust, and those are in short supply. That is why I need you."

Her brow furrowed a little, and she felt the warm body of Mao press into her neck. Fluttering upa hand she cupped the small rabbit, putting her head to the side. "So ..." she frowned. "Never mind. Let us go inside. More privacy is something I very much appreciate."

Out here, in the open, surrounded by these working men and armed guards, she felt as if there was any chance at any moment of being overheard by someone distrustful. After all, this was not her own fortress. This was not her own people, her Lilies. Instead ... well, fine it was Shinsou's Brotherhood stronghold. But it was exposed, unlike the fortress. It was a town, in the middle of the countryside, where practically, it seemed, anyone could walk in and pretend to be one of them.

Shinsou nodded, and turned, gesturing with his upraised palm towards a large building that stood against the square. With agitation waiting in the back of her throat, Philomel looked around for the boldest and most trustworthy man she could find. Looking right into his eyes she pointed to her tera'k.

"Feed and water him please," she said, and then turned away, heading right for the building.

They entered a short while later into a wooden-styled office, with a heavy desk and chairs. Her hooves clattered with the hollowness of the place, Veridian's own style barely heard. Heading straight for a seat Philomel dropped into it, her body tired from so much travel. Her eyes glanced briefly around the light coloured furnishings, the simple window with white sunlight streaming through, and various yellowing pages on the desk, before moving back around to her dear friend. Slowly, the man she had sincerely hoped that was not dead, and had not been, he of the gorgeous brown locks and startling eyes, sat down, and she found a sigh escaping from her lips.

"Firstly, I am glad to see you alive, Shinsou. Secondly, can all the questions about my daughter wait until I have found my hooves once more. Thirdly, you really did not need to send an escort to me. Do you not think I can defend myself? Do you not think my women would have provided enough of an honour guard."

The head of the Brotherhood looked over to the head of the Gilded Lily, two world players in the one room. For a while he sat in quiet, before he raised his hands and rested them on the desk.

"The escort was more about bringing you here directly than safely," he replied, respecting her wishes of avoiding conversation over Celandine. "I didn't want anyone else to talk to you about this."

"I am presuming 'this' has to do with my own plans," she said, sitting slightly forwards. Picking up Mao from her shoulder, where the rabbit was starting to strangle himself in her hair, she pulled him to sit on her lap. "Or something similar, as you seem to be avoiding explaining that."

"This," Shinsou said, sliding a piece of paper towards her. "I have been trying to find where Lye Ulroke resides."

She leaned forwards, brow furrowing as she read the few words on the paper.

"Seventh Sanctum, GWE."

Philomel blinked, and then she smiled. "Ah, the Seventh Sanctum," she said, and she nodded, the breath expelling from her lungs like a fresh morning breeze.

She paused, eyes looking over the last three initials. "GWE ... Great ... Great White Expanse? Well you do have to cover that hell for a while until you get there. Yes," she nodded, "I agree, that is where Ulroke will likely be."

Looking up she saw his dumfounded expression and she looked curious, "Why? Have you been there also?"

Her questions lingered in the back of her mind as she wandered through the mansion. Here and there, she stopped to pick up her possessions, left slapdash around the rooms of her brother’s home in the lingering, scorching, and lazy summer months. She wondered, as she often did about the consequences of her actions. When she came at last to stand before the front door, ready for her travels, she remembered: she did not care. Lye had done too much wrong, to friends, families, and lovers to be allowed to continue unabashed.

“Arden!” she yelled. She craned her neck to the landing which surrounded the entrance hall.

“Yes?” he replied, appearing from Leopold’s study with a distracted expression.

“I’m leaving now. Will you tell Ruby I will be otherwise detained during Liza’s Debutante Ball, a travesty I know?”

The swordsman rolled his eyes. “You sound devastated.”

“Utterly.” She stuck out her tongue.

He leant against the bannister, arms folded and eyebrow raised. Lilith knew the look well: he wanted to go with her. To protect her. To fight her battles.

“Are you sure you do-“

“Arden. I have to do this alone.” She picked up the katana leant against her satchel and strapped it to her back, tucking it’s point into the back of her red obi. “Besides, your approach to revenge tends to be a little…noisy.”

“I prefer direct.”

Lilith smiled. She checked her pockets, found the bangles gifted to her by Duffy long ago, and slipped them onto her wrists. The metal glinted in the bolts of sunlight that drifted through the bay windows. The last light of a scorching day promising a humid night the likes of which the assassin did not wish to suffer.

“I will send word if our plans go awry.”

“Shinsou doesn’t seem the sort to have a plan.”

“I meant Philomel and I.” She smirked. “I never trust a man to do a woman’s work.”

“Oh. Yes. She’s…quite inventive.” He had flashbacks to all the times the faun and her crew had got things done. In her own, unique, crazy way, but done all the same. “Okay. Safe travels.” He waved.

Taking her leave, Lilith waved back as she clashed the bangles together and vanished in a swirling peal of blue ribbons and musical endnote. She drifted through an ever-changing landscape of all the places connected in music and memory to the life of the troupe. After what seemed like an age, she saw a glimpse of a place close to whence she had been summonsed and clashed the bangles again. She appeared rather unceremoniously ten feet to the right of a bewildered faun and a plucky megalomaniac.

“I, oh, sorry. I misjudged the time.” She bowed.

Her duffel bag appeared behind her, hovered in the air for a moment, then thudded to the floor. She grinned, in the dim light of the room her teeth shone with the afterglow of the four possessed tanto strapped on her hips.

“Please continue.” She sat dishevelled in a chair offset to the duo and listened intently.

The Telgradian was surprised by the speed and ease in which Philomel not only explained the meaning of the Seventh Sactum but had also seemingly solved the conundrum that was vexing even his elite Immortals. He had not been aware the connection between Lye and the Faun had been so personal as for her to have known about his elusive inner sanctum, but the revelation of this information confirmed to Shinsou that he had inadvertantly made an excellent decision by writing to her. With this information, being able to locate the Crimson Hand's leader would become almost immediately easier; at least in theory.

As the two prepared to discuss this new intelligence, Shinsou was further surprised as the form of a beautiful woman materialised to his right. At first the sudden manifestation startled him; even with his ability to sense others, he had not been prepared for Lillith Kazumi's arrival. But, shortly after composing himself, he managed to hold his stoic expression long enough to not appear fazed, regarding her with curiosity-filled eyes.

How did you manage to slip past my senses? Interesting. Very, very interesting indeed. You're a dangerous one.

"Lillith Kazumi, welcome to Whitevale." The Telgradian became less rigid and bowed slightly at the hip to show the appropriate respect for one so affiliated with the Winchester house. "It is a pleasure. Sadly, though, we'll have to dispense with the formalities for now. As I'm sure you are aware, we have much to discuss."

It was starting to hit night proper. The sun was neatly tucked away and only the dull glow of lanterns from nearby villages from behind a thin blanket of clouds was visible on the horizon. The newly congregated allies walked down a sloping, rustic corridor towards a junction where Shinsou shot a sideways glance at Lillith, watching her intently. The lady looked more like a duchess than anything else, and the contrast between her airs and graces and his slicked-hair and soldier's posture could not have been more polar. Osiris admitted quietly to himself as they walked that he had not known what Kazumi was capable of, and perhaps it would be to his advantage to have the Immortals to look into her a bit more. Anyone who could appear anywhere they liked at any given moment would always be a problem for Shinsou, regardless of the intent.

"A quandry for you both, whilst we make our way to the briefing room," Shinsou started, adjusting his overcoat as he walked, "What is good and what is evil? Are they not merely a convenient way for people to categorise everything in the world according to their own beliefs? After all, right and wrong are just viewpoints depending on which side of the fence you are on. One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter."

It was just like Shinsou to break everything down into logical, cold truths, but that was the man he was. Nothing was without reason, he figured, as they continued on.

"In the case of Lye Ulroche, consider this; there is no cause for debate. He is an evil presence in this world," Shinsou met eyes with both the Faun and lady Kazumi, "And I intend his fall to be such a quiet thing. People can’t look past “good” and “evil” to see the truth, and usually I would be the first to accuse those people of being blind to the broader scope, but for him, his legacy is only darkness. He brings death and misery. He must be stopped, quietly and efficiently."

He watched as Philomel took a moment to fill his prepihary, lighting up the corridor with her beautiful face and fur. There was a point to all this, Shinsou knew, and both Philomel and Lillith's expressions seemed to indicate a willingness to hear the rest out.

"I live by a philosophy; that from the smallest actions, the manipulation of the most subtle critical points, the universe and its workings can be moved. This is why we must be careful in all that we do and of the choices we make," Shinsou gestured to emphasise his point "and what we chose was to set out today to kill a corrupt tyrant. This is amoral by definition but necessary by circumstance. Good and evil; opposing sides of the spectrum brought together by a singular purpose. Just like us three here. A beautiful thing."

As they continued to walk, Shinsou admired the inner workings of his complex. It used to be such a small and unassuming place; a rural town that blended into its surroundings. Now, though, the buzz of revolution choked the charm from it. Even at this hour, pillars of smoke rose from Brotherhood kilns, their fires and men forging weapons and armour intended for revolution. As they reached the briefing room at the end of the hall, Shinsou turned back towards them.

"Be under no illusions. What we are going to do will change many things. If you can embrace that change, follow me inside."

Patience was a virtue in her.

At least, in that moment, she discovered. As they strode down the panelled corridor, the light from the evenly spaced windows making the glistening knotwork stand as a testimony to nature, she kept her head high. And her mouth shut. Beside her Veridian paced, a gleam in his eye and a smirk on his vulpine lips, thinking the same thoughts as her. Thoughts of, "Shut it, Shinsou, I was the one who asked you first," and, "Stop being all philosophical and just get to the point. We are here to fight, you should know that you idiot."

Over time she had learnt he did this. His intelligence was a strong element in his personality - that was clear, and it had in part assisted them in the past. Philomel considered the most recent time she and her comrades had seen him; deep in the underbelly of the cavernous world, where inky, tentacled monsters had threatened their existence. There Shinsou had shown bravity and keen strategy, calling out suggestions of position, stance and attack plan. Right up until his apparent demise he had proved himself to been a keen-spirited warrior, with sharp senses and a mind that loved to plan. Indeed, he was clever but now ...

Now he was sounding positively arrogant.

"I live by a philosophy; that from the smallest actions, the manipulation of the most subtle critical points, the universe and its workings can be moved."

Sucking in her breath she bit back the desire to retort and continued on her way. She knew what power was - for the sake of Drys she had been fighting for her right to her own body and life since she had been born. Subtle critical points ... sure.

Her eager eyes scanned the skyline of Whitevale from the windows they passed, taking in the sights of the place she had never been, only heard of. As the Brotherhood's Stronghold it was an ideal world to get to know well. They were, after all one of the Gilded Lily's closest allies. At least aquaintances in terms of the Guild logistics.

A question hung in the air, asking if they were prepared to do what was necessary.

With a grunt, Philomel pushed past the humans, her eyes flickering over to the female. Tall and beautiful Lillith Kasumi seemed the spirit of grace. And by the way she elgeantly moved, she seemed someone that Philomel certainly would get on with. Barely had the woman spoke - just a brief hello in that silky, darling voice of hers, before Shinsou had started his rant. The faun guessed, or perhaps rather hoped, that Lillith had some persuasion towards the assassin-whore-fighter-piratical hybrid that Philomel had been over her life - at least been in part at points. With a wry smile to her, and a slight roll of the eyes to Shinsou's words to communicate what she felt, Philomel moved straight past the Telgradian and in through the doors. Behind her Veridian scrabbled, claws clinking on the floorboards, and somewhere from beneath her hair the faun felt the form of Mao the rabbit peek out.

She came to the sight of a large rectangular table, strewn with maps, papers, candles and goblets. Looping up one hand behind her neck she brought down Mao, setting him right on top of the papers. Immediately the rabbit began to sniff around the place, nose twitching, paws gently moving but not straying far from his faun. Over to them Veridian traipsed, leaping up himself onto the paper and nosing them. His eyes settled on a giant map of Althanas and he chuckled a keep growl from his throat before finding the wine for Philomel.

Here, he told her, patting at it with a paw.

Twisting her head back around to the seemingly stunned and still Shinsou, Philomel let out a beaming smile as she reached for the wine - and stopped Veridian from knocking it all over the table and its strategic documents.

"Now that that is over, Shinsou, shall we actually get to the task in hand? Rather than being hypothetical and all philosophical? I think my dear new friend ... Lillith, was it? I think she and I know exactly where we are going and do not need any persuasion in the slightest. On a personal degree I have seen what Lye Ulroke is capable of, what he has done." She paused, reaching for a goblet to pour the wine into. "Besides, it was I who wrote to you, asking for your help. You did not ask me here, I came because it was my intention to anyway. Otherwise we would have met at the walls of the Seventh Sanctum and then ... well."

She swigged back a mouthful of the red liquid, eyes dancing. "Ah yes, and Delath can carry three of us, I think, though not far. The way into the Sanctum is not ... easy. It is full of monsters of many dark types, and the mountain pass is treacherous. It is possible to die on the route, and the area is filled with his agents. We must go just us three and swift. End Ulroke where his heart of power lies. In the throne room, before the chair made of bones. But to do that we have to be quiet and strong-willed."

Nodding once to herself, she surmised to herself that what she had said was good. Pulling the rabbit back towards her she drank, and waited for the others to consider her suggestions.

Lilith watched Philomel devour wine as though it were water. As Shinsou indulged himself in his rhetoric she came to her own conclusions about the people called to ‘right wrongs’ and ‘bring balance’. She had to hand it to the man, he knew how to make a sale’s pitch. The problem was, the assassin was not her to buy into anything other than her personal vendetta.

“I don’t think Lye has risen so far up the proverbial ladder to be brought to his knees by the blatantly fucking obvious.”

It was the first thing she had said in over half an hour, it carried a certain blunt weight for which she was well-known. Without the political and cultural trappings of Akashima to dull her mind, the Scara Braen hellion came out full force.

“I’m sorry?” Shinsou raised an eyebrow, still considering Philomel’s contribution to the dick measuring contest.

“He’s a master of spies. A tyrant. A man perfectly capable of genocide without losing any sleep. He will expect somebody to come for him, ‘in the dead of night’, and we will walk straight into a nightmare.” She crossed her legs, her eyes glinting with promise.

“Do you have an idea?” Philomel set down her glass.

“Absolutely.” Lilith sat upright and began to stitch together threads unseen with her delicate fingers. “I think it’s appropriate for me to say at this point I am not concerned with right and wrong.” She glared briefly at Shinsou. “Others in the world will see us as murderers and thieves. Chronicle is concerned only with balance, and ensuring that the people stuck in between these petty wars and hatreds don’t suffer.” Biding enough time before she began to ease her woes, she poured the faun and herself a glass of wine and when she returned to her seat, drew three kanji in the air. They burnt amber in the limelight, singeing the air and burning he passion between them away.

“Leopold said you were…dedicated.”

“Thank you for truncating my brother’s tendency to bitch.” She rolled her eyes. “His involvement in the slave trade is why I am here.” She neglected to mention the fact Lye had killed her, and undone a decade’s work as an envoy to Akashima. A new face brought with it obscurity, and Lilith Kazumi was not one to be lost in a crowd. “We should either infiltrate his next shipment, sneak into the fortress that way, as he once did to me…or we should send a Geiko from Akashima’s new government and use the festival as a distraction.” She swirled her glass, letting the kanji settle the souls of the four Greater Oni that bristled in the pit of her stomach.

“Big ambitions.”

“With Duffy as a brother you go big or go home.”

“It’s certainly an idea,” Philomel smirked. “What do you think Shinsou?”

The first thing that occurred to Shinsou, as he listened to his companions and noted the subtle rebukes against his little monologue, was the urgency in their tones. He felt that they had somewhat missed his point. Whilst killing Lye was high up on his list of priorities, it would have been careless to not have first thought about the bigger picture. It hadn’t escaped the Telgradian that the outcome would affect Althanian causality in ways that perhaps hadn’t sunk in with the other members of their hunting party. Of the three, only he and the Brotherhood were best equipped to deal with the aftermath; only Shinsou understood the scale of the power vacuum that would open up once Ulroch was dead.

They don’t care for political agendas, or for understanding the wider consequences of what we’ll be doing. They’ll kill Lye, regardless of everything else. Shinsou mused, tapping a sole finger on the wood, Perhaps at one time I would have been mildly insulted by the ignorance, but on this occasion it suits. Once I’ve settled the score for Amari, I won’t have to worry about anyone else wanting a slice of the political cake. With the matriarch of the Gilded Lily here and an affiliate of house Winchester, regardless of how well aligned we are in our purposes or our relationships, it would not do to spoil over the remnants of Lye’s little empire.

Shinsou’s train of thought was interrupted by his friend, the faun Philomel, sat opposite him. With the creases on her forehead multiplying with every moment that the Telgradian sat thinking, the huffing from her lungs becoming harsh, Shinsou could have been forgiven for thinking his friend was becoming impatient. Lillith seemed equally eager to hear what the Brotherhood’s leader had to say, but simply sat and stared at him.

“I concur with the plan. We’ll use the festival as cover, find a Geiko to send to Lye as a ‘gift’ from Akashima and sail from Yanbo harbour as soon as time allows. Lillith; I have a question,” Osiris started, brushing a hand through the locks of his smooth chestnut hair, “You teleported here, presumably from quite a distance? What prevents you from teleporting us to the Seventh Sanctum, exactly? That would be much easier.”

Lillith rolled her eyes, as if the question was moot.

“Don’t you think I would have if I could? I can only take us to places the troupe have been.”

“Fair enough,” Shinsou nodded, a hand in his chin, “then can you get us to Akashima?”

“Easily.” Her response was dry and concise.

“Good,” The Telgradian smiled, pushing back from the table, “Then we have an accord. Let’s give ourselves thirty minutes to gather anything we may need, get Delath, Veridian and Mao fed, go for a piss and get something quick to eat ourselves. We have a long night’s work ahead of us.”

This sudden shift from the earlier rhetoric to a rise to action seemed to be welcomed by the faun and Lillith, who both nodded their agreeance with the plan of action and stood too.

Thirty minutes later, Lillith, Philomel van Der Aart and Shinsou stood together once more, this time in Whitevale’s town square. Although the sky was now without even a wisp of the clouds that had smothered Corone earlier, the ground was still sopping. Puddles filled stretches of the cobblestone outside of Shinsou’s offices, soaking the guardsmen’s trousers up to the shins as they marched their rounds. A quick check was enough to ensure that their provisions were packed; carefully prepared to only consist of light and necessary goods. Veridian, Delath and Mao were now alongside their beloved Faun. Lillith adjusted her hair, looked at her two companions and without further ado clashed her bangles together.

Everything shattered into a million fragments of light.

A swirling blue mass in front of the three and their familiars hummed and whirled as the plasmatic substance it was comprised of from bent and curved to fit their slender forms. Strange tentacles of white and marine blue converged on their bodies and snatched them into the gravity well, pulling the six of them through numerous sheets of reality before finally depositing them onto terra firma.

The landscape of Akashima spun into focus slowly as Shinsou tried to negate the nauseating effects of teleportation by bouncing on his heels for a moment. He had never been here before, to this city state that sat upon the south slopes of the Comb Mountains, but was greeted by sights that would ensure he would not soon forget having visited.

One such sight was the infamous Great Crystal Spire, which lay no more than twenty feet ahead of the trio. It was too dark now to observe the true brilliance of the spire, as every evening the sun would sink below the lush green forest to the west and pour its brilliant rays into the crystal which, in turn, would illuminate the streets, but another phenomenon could be witnessed. Every now and then some sort of ethereal beings, ones that reminded Shinsou of his old friend Elthas Belthasar, seemed to commune with the pillar and used it to manifest a physical body for themselves. It was a curious practice; one that seemed commonplace and rarely turned the heads of the passing Akashimans, but enough to stick in the Telgradian’s mind.

Beyond the entrancing spire, Shinsou could see the grand palace where the Royal Family resided.

“That palace, I remember reading about it,” Osiris mused, recalling a passage from one of the Brotherhood’s old books, “It was fashioned to become a formidable fortress in times of war, but despite that it was believed to contain delicate artworks and stone masterpieces throughout its grand halls and towering walls. Lady Akashima herself was said to have a personal interest in it.”

The random tidbit of information that Shinsou vocalised drew little to no reaction from his comrades, unsurprisingly. He hadn’t looked for one, of course, but like other places on Althanas that he was visiting for the first time, the Telgradian was taking it all in.

Knowledge is power, after all.

Although music had been playing in the background for the last thirty seconds, it was only now that the chords of the violins, the steady tapping of the drums and the fanfare of Akashima’s festival truly registered with Shinsou. Sweeping aside his white greatcoat and turning his back to the spire to face the direction of the ensemble, Osiris pivoted to see a city in the throes of jubilation.

This particular celebration was in honour of Akashima’s new government and was an occasion of unrestrained joy. The costumes lit up the summer's night; a riot of colour to rival any gardener's paradise. Music filled the air, festive beats lifted the spirits and made the people want to move, jump and sing. It was a time to celebrate being alive, celebrate the new rule and be one with the community. The air tasted heavenly, with cooks and their stalls lining the parade with their stalls and wares; every delicious thing ready to be shared and consumed.

Along the road shone hundreds of lamps; illuminating with their flickering candles. The light was cast every colour by the tinted panes and Shinsou, for all of his complexities, couldn't help but be reminded of the simplest thing; candy. It was as if the lane was iced by the baker on the high-street. To add to the gaiety most children carried a lamp of their own making, their gentle puffs of steaming breath made visible by the glow, only to disappear into the inkiness. At the stroke of each hour on the old town clock would come the next wave of songs, songs of thanks to echo into the homes of the Akashimans. Tonight, even the windows of a nearby hospital would be open despite the cold, because the doctors believed the multitude of voices from young and old alike had a stronger effect on their patients than any medicine they had to offer.

Marvelling at it all, Osiris shot a glance to Philomel, who seemed equally absorbed in the atmosphere. Delath hulked quietly by her side as Veridian's eyes swept over the city, absorbing and analysing everything as he always did. Mao simply perched atop Delath. Shinsou imagined he and the faun under different circumstances, enjoying the festival together. Drinking, making merry, and anything else that followed. Caught up in this wonderful atmosphere, it was easy for one to put aside the grim task ahead of them.

It was then that Lillith sauntered beside him. Shinsou’s golden eyes regarded her with curiosity, before tearing themselves back towards the party.

“So, here we are. Over to you, Lillith Kazumi.”

Lilith tore her gaze away from a line of meiko wobbling through the crowd that celebrated the new night’s revelry with rice wine and precariously waved lanterns. She smiled weakly, forgetting what she was here for. Though she no longer appeared Akashiman, her heart sung true whenever she walked the streets of Capitol City or traversed the Comb Mountains. No matter how many times she changed her face, this was her home.

“I will convene with the Senate to see their approval for the emissary. It will not take long, but soliciting the services of an ona-san, a house mistress, will take much more effort.” She pointed at the meiko. “A disguise will be our only hope of getting you two into the haven.”

“We get make-up?” Shinsou frowned. Philomel smiled.

“What about you Lilith?” The faun twitched her ears with excitement.

“Lye knew my face, but recent events have worked in our favour. He won’t know it’s me until the tanto is in his heart.” It was a vain hope, given the man they were dealing with and his proclivity for masterminding chaos. “I also need to speak to the Spirit-Warder Consul. We can’t take too many citizens, if it goes awry, the only blood to be spilled will be of those willing to fight.”

“Won’t a small procession raise suspicion?” Shinsou showed his doubts on his furrowed brow.

Lilith smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be small. I shall meet you both at the Outlander’s Post in the Okiya district. Do you remember where I showed you the cherry blossoms around the lake?” She lingered just long enough to seek their mutual acknowledgement, then darted away into the crowd at the tail of the meiko’s delicate weaving through the festival.

With every step, a smell or sound or snippet of Akashiman brought back memories. Since she had sung the Last Song with her siblings, the trappings of her former lives threatened to overwhelm her. She longed to be someone she was no longer. Everyone knew who she was, and those who forgot would only need to lay eyes on the tanto at her waists to recall what she had done to save Akashima. She cleared the procession and broke into a cluttered street of moss and shattered wine vats. Her clunky boots echoed footsteps in her wake.

“You’re late.”

Lilith froze. Crab and Spider appeared in her hands, the flaps on her trapper hat wobbling side to side as she took to a defensive stance. Her eyes pierced the gloom to seek out her stalker.

“You’re supposed to be laying low.” She eased off and sheathed her blades. “Did you speak to the Consul?”

A nekojin, with whom Lilith had a relation closer to a brother than a disciple appeared out of the gloom. The blackened armour on his limbs danced with moonlight, and his tail flicked eagerly behind him. He bowed, and Lilith returned the custom with a kanji of greeting. It burnt momentarily, then fizzled into embers.

“They will hear your plea as soon as you have taken tea with Madam Tsuko.”

“Shit. Is she the only one who would consider our requisition?”

“Oh. She was paid off the other okiya’s to have you all to herself.” Neko smiled a toothy grin.

With a sour expression the assassin forged on, the spirit-warder hot on her heels as they wove through the bac alleys and came quickly to the northern okiya. Walled houses and tiled roofs veiled in swirls of smoke painted a picture of young girls sold and stolen away into the tradition of a Geisha. When she turned eight, her father sold her to an okiya in this very district. She had been unruly, as many were, and kicked out onto the streets of Capitol City. Only by good fortune’s grace had she been taken in by a visiting Scara Braen family and taken away to her home from home. Forever torn between two worlds, Lilith thought it ironic to have come full circle.

“Here we are. Are you going to join me?” Lilith slowed down beneath a pair of cherry blossoms tied together and grown into an arch before the grandest okiya in the district. Inside she pictured the sour expression of the very woman who had been unable to tame her centuries ago. Waiting. Gleefully, to put Kazumi in her place.

Neko scoffed. “Good god, no. I’d rather duel to the death with Lord Johan.”

“I didn’t think you would. Still…I will join you at the Consul when I am done.” She skipped up the stepping stones and took off her geta before knocking on the door. A light flickered on behind the paper panels and a chorus of commands in Akashiman foretold of a cold welcome.

Neko watched his teacher disappear inside and smiled. He waited just long enough to ensure a riot hadn’t broken out before he leapt up into the trees and took a nekojin’s path to the Shogun’s Palace. Before dawn, there was much to be done, and he was all too glad that a modern Akashima never slept.

As the seemingly immortal geisha swirled her way into the confines of her city's government, the swathes of her kimono moving like murmurations of swallows, the Matriarch faun twisted her way back to stare at Shinsou. The words of the idea of disguise and traditional dress still on her lips, Philomel smiled, staring at him. Standing tall, shoulders back, the leader of the Brotherhood looked slightly dismayed - a look that made Philomel have to bite back a laugh. As the glitterings of light from the thousand lanterns caught the gold flecks of his hair she addressed him. Behind her Delath raised his nose to the air, taking in long draughts of the sweet scents, his appearance causing some stir to the residents. Else, the bravest children were shoving their kin and peers forwards, daring each to be the first to approach the mighty, brave dragon.

Taking a moment the faun paused, trying her best to think how to address her next concerns to her friend.

"I need to talk to you about something serious, Shinsou," she said uneasily.

Immediately the Telgradian's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

Taking in a breath she began:

"Pride aside, Shinsou," she said, referring back to his recent speech, "What comes after Ulroke's death will come. What might be of the Crimson Hand, whether it fades back into nothingness ... Or Maddison returns, I do not know. But I want to make certain that one thing is taken care of if the worst happens."

Carefully she looped back a strand of hair behind her tapered ear, the tip of which flickered as she heard Delath grumble. Apparently one of the young Akashiman children had finally gained to extend a finger to his hardened flesh. One glance over made her smile lightly as she saw the wingless dragon breathe a blast of smoke to the gasping crowd. Scrabbling back the one who had dared let out a squeal like a frightened mouse.

"Beyond how powerful I may have become over the years," Philomel said quietly, looking back over to her ally, "This mission will be one of the most daring and dangerous I have ever faced. . Our minds being in the same place on this I want to ask you something ... Request something."

She paused, straightened her back as the hazel-eyed man simply gazed back with surprising patience.

"If I die in the coming days, Shinsou, I want my body taken back to the place where I met Veridian. If he is alive he can show you where it is. If he is dead then ask Vaeron. If he is not available ... Then ask my brother."

The man opened his mouth to talk, "Philomel I think this is rather -"

"It is not over exaggerating," she sighed. "This /might/ happen. Ulroke is not a man to be underwhelmed - he is even more powerful since he returned and brought the Crimson Hand back from the silence it was. He was once a good man of sorts ... Or perhaps I was worse, nevertheless, he has grown possessed by and obsessed with his shadows. Dark shadows," she paused, realising her voice was rising. The warrior before her, all clad in his glorious armour seemed rather concerned, but she shook her head and went on. Quietly. "Dark shadows that are disturbing and will easily kill. Even with Mao now my power can not overwhelm him. And I will sacrifice myself if that is what it takes for others to survive."

She saw him glance over to the rabbit, perched high upon the grumbling dragon's head. Curiousity was in his eyes and he seemed observant of her brief mention that Mao had some form of power. It made Philomel smile - for he was directly connected to the small creature.

"Mao came to me just after the battle in the cavern of crystal," she told him. "She was drawn by the power of the sword that I got from there. Though she does not share the mental connection to Delath, Veridian and I she can mimick any of our powers."

Her eyes slowly moved back to fix on his, her voice now soft. "Delath will protect her in the case of my death. He and Veridian know to take her to my daughter. I have already set plans in place for Celandine to be prepared for eventual command of the Gilded Lily, with Gosling and Vaeron guiding her until she is old enough." She sighed and stretched, "Sorry. This is probably very bleak for you."

He shook his head slightly. "If it comes to it, I will respect your wishes." Though he frowned with the thought of her death, and having to hold her corpse. Rather than her furry legs. Close to his naked body.

"Thank you," she said with a sigh. "Until then, you should perhaps go join our friend. I need to head into the city. I have a brothel here that I have influence over and have a couple of friends here in mind who might help us."

"Of course you do," he said without a hint of surprise in his voice. "Though do not be long. I shall see you at the harbour."

Her eyes narrowed at him a moment, but then she nodded, turning around to head for Delath. As the dragon saw her coming he stopped his puffing smoke at the now giggling children and lowered his head towards her.

"As you wish, commander," she drawled a reply, mock-saluting Shinsou even with her back to him.

Easily she ascended onto the back of Delath, the point where his neck became back an ideal nestle there. Though far larger than her mount tera'k the dragon seemed to suit her better, their colour close and their temperaments familiar. There was a dash of bright red colour and Veridian soon sprinted from his hiding place where he had been hunting food, a hot pie in his jaws. Cries of annoyance came from a stall owner, a fist raised in the air as the fox leapt up behind Philomel. Shocked looks and a chittering noise and Shinsou was subject to the sight of the four compatriots spinning around. A thump of a tail, a laugh and a wave and they were hurrying off, away from the governmental buildings.

Away from her friends. Onwards into the city upon the back of an earth dragon with a whip-like tail.

Through the festival they ran, curdling up gasps and cheers as those they passed either feared or loved them. A dragon was what Delath was, and in part dragons were dear to these people - but perhaps not those born of rock. Instead air and fire meant more to them, and between the flickering lanterns and the calm streams that small bridges extended over Delath and his charges made a scene. He roared little but ran much, scarring a few fenceposts with minor scratches and smashing down a pole or two. Philomel mentally notes to pay those storeowners back later.

The thick scents of frankincense hung in the air as they thundered into the more commonplace geisha region. Doors and shutters were drawn back from store fronts displaying the entrances to various coffee houses and brothels. Sweet music hummed outwards, seductively echoing tunes that could pull a passerby into a false sense of security, those intriguing notes that are disturbing yet warming to the soul. Bright colours announced the various houses, calling out to the passersbys - but not to the dragon and his riders. Even though he slowed to a leisurely pace, the pathways becoming thinner and the amount of things to destroy more numerous, he still did not come to a complete halt. Instead he followed the urgings of his faun, she who he regarded as much as kin as his now distant-memory egg-mates. Gently she made him ever carefully forwards, her own eyes alight with wonder as they drank in the glory and excitement of the festival.

"Madama-san!" Came a gasp.

There stood a painted woman, lips ruby red and eyes extended with thin black lines. A rare heart-shaped beauty spot was angled on her cheek, black against the white foundation. On her body she wore the restrictive formal kimono, stern bow to the back, wide band of ribbon encircling her waist and small wooden clogs - geta - on her feet.

Delath screeched to a halt, claws raking slightly on the stoney ground. Quickly, Philomel slipped from his back, petting him briefly but her eyes for the woman who had stopped them in the centre of the street. Still a fair distance from the brothel where they had been headed.

"Sakura!" Philomel gasped, rushing forwards to greet the geisha. "I didn't expect you to be here!"

The Akashiman glanced from the faun to her companions. She nodded a little in recognition to the fox on the back of the dragon, who curtly returned the gesture. Recognition fluttered between the two. Memories of an old friendship, an old adventure now many years in the past.

"Neither I, you, Madama," Sakura said in a warming tone, looking back to Philomel. "I have not been in the city long." Smiling, she held out a hand to grasp that of the faun. "But how glad I am to see you. Both of you ... All of you!"

"And we you," Philomel couldn't help but grin broadly. "Oh my dear friend," she held Sakura's hand tight. "How fortunate we are that you have moved from the country here. You are just who we might need!"

Sakura, the geisha who had never been quite part of the Gilded Lily but always a friend should the need arise, tilted her head. "Oh?" She asked.

Philomel nodded, her smile fading a little. "Indeed," she mused, "You see I am here with others. To ask your government's help to end the life of a tyrant."

Quietly the geisha regarded her. Last time Philomel had seen this woman the two of them had been fighting their way out of a Scara Brae hell-hole. At that time the faun had been heavily pregnant, and Sakura had helped her later to give birth. Sakura was one of the only people who had known all these years about the truth about Celandine.

"I know you, and I trust you, Madama," Sakura said quietly. "You are full of honour, and you would not ask for my help if this was not a thing of honour." Again she clasped Philomel's hand. "I will help you. And your friends. Tell me, what do you need?"