The morning view from the patio was breathtaking. Every time Alnur came out to look over the Hawk estate he found yet another wonder to behold. There were several training fields of various materials, a glass gazebo at the center of the most beautiful botanical garden, what looked to be a hedge maze that would take hours to traverse, not to mention an entire private pond.

  Alnur shook his head at the huge waste of valuable land. Between the nutrient rich soil and the capital's geographical position along the planet's equator, this land was ideal for farming. Placing a hand to his temple Alnur cursed under his breath. His people had to pay obscene premiums to transport soil from other nations, while these aristocrats squandered the natural bounty of the capital by building; by his count, seven different mansions of various size and architectural design.

  How many Twin’s will starve in the coming years so that idiots like lord Hawk can enjoy his garden?

  With a deep breath he calmed his rising ire. He knew he was being slightly overcritical, but that was to be expected after the last three weeks of pointless pleasantries. Alnur cast a glance across his room towards the main gate. As usual there were a dozen or so lavish carriages from the other noble houses, not to mention the myriad of representatives from every corner of the Empire. Since he had first arrived almost a month ago, his host had been hard at work parading Alnur around to the other houses of the capital.

  Day in and day out he had been forced to plaster a smile on his face, all while daydreaming he could pummel every single slimy fool he met. It had never been this hard to play his role back home. Even if there were those he disagreed with, he knew that they at least shared the same general goals as himself. Here, it was an endless barrage of hedonistic revelry that bordered on insanity.

  There was a pang of shame as he reined in his frustration. When had he become so bitter? There was a time when he would have loved the chance to meet and speak his mind with the upper echelons of the Court. Tayla and Fel had always been there to help him see clearly. There had been no new news about Fel’s whereabouts, and when it came to Tayla he knew a part of the growing distance between them was his own fault. It was his own twisted way of trying to protect her in the event of his capture.

  He wanted to tell her about his plans, but there was no way of knowing how she would respond. There were seldom few amongst his people that had been able to break away from the absolute control of the All Mother, fewer still that had been able to then see the logic in his plans.

  No, this would be his burden to carry alone.

  Things were progressing smoothly even after his setback from being injured. His transport to the capital had been ahead of schedule, now he simply needed to wait for his chance to strike. He sighed at the sight of the approaching nobles. Which meant he had to return to his smiling, naive facade.

  There came a knock at the door. With one final sigh, Alnur opened the door with his hollow smile. Zo and Bynard stood before him at attention. Zo was quick to nod. “Master Hawk has requested your company at the training grounds.” She said matter of factly. If she was annoyed with passing messages from Gideon she didn’t show it.

  Alnur laughed, not because he wanted to, but because it put others at ease. “The training grounds? Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to exercise.” He joked. With a gesture he let Zo take the lead in walking him towards the training ground. Bynard took up position behind him as usual.

  As they walked, Alnur heard Bynard’s voice appear in his ear. The runesmith had many tricks up his sleeve, one of his favorites was being able to cast his voice to only those he wanted to. “I’ve found a way outside the city walls as you requested. The window for us to exit will be tomorrow before seven in the morning. Should we bring Zo into the fold?” Bynard sounded eager to share his purpose with Zo, a little too eager.

  While Bynard’s technique was handy, it didn’t allow him to receive messages in the same fashion. So Alnur had to get creative in how to respond without arousing suspicion.

  “It might be about time.” Alnur mused aloud. When Zo cast him a raised eyebrow he laughed. “Sorry, I was just thinking that it might be time for me to go for my check up.”

  Zo nodded. “That may be wise. When were you thinking of going?” She asked.

  Bynard shrugged. “I could take him in the morning, get it out of the way early.” It was scary how well Bynard could pretend to be unenthused, Alnur could learn a thing or two from the man. The house of whispers had taught him well. Though some of it was probably from his more extreme training.

  Alnur put his hand up to his chin. “That could work.” He mused.

  There was a growing frown on Zo’s face. “That just leaves me to entertain Master Hawk in your absence.” She groaned.

  “If it helps make it up to you, how about I give you the day to rest. All Mother knows you need one, it's almost been a month since your last one.”

  Rubbing her forehead Zo grumbled to herself. “Maybe you’re right.”

  The three Twin’s made their way to the training ground where they were met by a large group of fawning nobles in various gaudy outfits. Alnur had to look twice as one of the loons was wearing a masquerade mask of all things.

  As he made to introduce himself he was cut short by the bombastic voice of his host. Gideon was wearing a dueling outfit that was just a touch too small, though Alnur suspected that was by design. “My esteemed friends and colleagues! I thank you all for accepting my invitation! No doubt you have all heard of my honored guest.” He said as he walked up and wrapped an overly familiar arm around Alnur.

  A wave of anger washed over Alnur as he put on his best smile and pretended to be sheepish. “A pleasure to meet you all. I am-”

  “This, is Alnur Ebontide. King of the Black Coast. Ruler of the Twins, speaker of the Nightfather, slayer of beasts, and master of the blade.” With each outlandish title Gideon’s voice rose in volume. “And, my personal friend.” He said with a wink.

  The crowd applauded as they each fought to introduce themselves first. Gideon, not being keen on giving any of the others a chance to grow too close with Alnur, was quick to move the conversation onwards. “I have prepared a spectacle for you all today!”

  Gesturing towards the training ground was a large machine, various cables and tubes ran from the machine to a control panel that was manned by a team of engineers. The machine looked to be Phorebearer in origin, but Alnur couldn’t be sure, he had little knowledge of the lost race.

  “I found this priceless piece of equipment at a sealed auction some time ago, it was part of a set but I was unable to acquire the other two pieces at that time. It took my team months to bring this ancient occult device to life, but now it is fully operational.” He snapped his fingers as the team of engineers set about powering up the machine.

  As the cables hummed with arcane power, the machine stirred as it was brought online. At its full height it stood at almost twelve feet tall, its one remaining arm ending in massive claws. It was a bulky thing with a single glowing red eye. Alnur couldn’t help but notice that the thing seemed to be moving sluggishly. Perhaps it didn’t have enough power, or maybe there was something missing.

  Gideon put on his dueling helmet as he approached the towering goliath. “Observe!” He yelled. The engineers set about reciting prayers to coax the machine to action while they input various commands. The Phorebearer reached over and picked up a short sword in its claws, the sight was almost comical in its absurdity. Alnur watched slack jawed as Gideon began to duel the ancient machine. The man must have assumed that this was some incredible achievement, but to Alnur it looked like a toddler playing pretend. To his shock, the other nobles seemed to be genuinely taken aback by the display. Some even had the audacity to gasp and clutch their hands to their mouths.

  Zo and Bynard turned away, Bynard raised a hand to his mouth as he fought the urge to laugh. With an outlandish cry, Gideon parried the glacial swing of the Phorebearer as he delivered a strike to its red eye. The machine shuddered as it curled in on itself, returning to its slumbering state.

  Panting aggressively, Gideon signaled for a servant to throw him a towel. While another rushed over and held out a pitcher of water for the man. After draining half of the pitcher, Gideon turned to face the applauding guests. “It was worth every chip.” He exclaimed with a broad smile.

  One of the guests spoke up, a female Tideborn wearing a dress that looked like it would take a week to fully don. “While spectacular, there doesn’t seem to be much sport in sparring with such a mindless husk.” She cast an eye towards Alnur. “You mentioned that your guests were all quite capable warriors, perhaps we might be given a demonstration?”

  Alnur held up a hand, preparing to politely decline. When Gideon scoffed smugly. “While they do have passing skill, they couldn’t possibly hope to defeat one such as myself who was personally trained in the Ono fighting styles.”

  “Pardon?” Alnur said without thinking. “The what styles?”

  The nobles chuckled to themselves. The Tideborn woman held a fan to her face to hide her revolting smile. “I see now that I overestimated my honored cousins.” The emphasis she put on the word ‘honored’ made it clear how she truly felt about Alnur.

  Zo and Bynard took a step forward with murder in their eyes, no doubt the genetic tampering of the All Mother was kicking into full effect. Alnur gestured for them to stop. “Forgive me, I am simply confused. If you would be so kind, I would love the chance to partake in Battualia with you.” Alnur said with a smile.

  Gideon’s face twisted in confusion. “Uh, battu- I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “Battualia. It is the Ono tradition for a sparring match.” Alnur didn’t let his anger show in his voice, instead relying on being overly friendly. A tactic that usually worked in throwing arrogant pricks off from their antics.

  “Oh! Yes, of course. I simply misunderstood your southern dialect.” Gideon cast a glance at the raised eyebrows of the crowd. “I accept your invitation. Though I hope you don’t hold it against me if you wind up injured.”

  With that the group moved to an adjacent training field, this one clear of any obstacles. To Alnur’s surprise the field was covered in imported white sand, he didn’t even know where one could find such a thing in the Empire. Zo leaned towards Alnur and whispered. “Are you sure this is wise?” She was obviously concerned at the idea of Alnur embarrassing their host and getting them kicked out.

  He sighed. “I’ll hold back. We don’t want them to fear us, but it would go a long way if they at least respected us. If needs be, I’ll allow him the chance to win. Try and keep his ego intact. Plus, I’m curious about these ‘Ono styles’ he spoke of. The Huntmaster taught me that there are no concrete forms or techniques for the Ono; instead, they rely on honing their natural instincts to the point of perfection.”

  Bynard smirked. “Careful letting him win, if his head gets any larger they may have to widen the doors to his mansion.” The three snorted under their breath.

  Gideon made his way into the center of the training field. Alnur followed suit. This far from the guests, his gracious host whispered to him. “Is this really necessary? I was trained by a master in the Ono sword styles. You can concede if you want, no one would think less of you.” The worst part about his words was that he sounded genuinely worried for Alnur’s well being.

  “I have my pride too master Hawk. Don’t worry, my usual sparring partners could go toe to toe with a Minstella. I’ll be fine.”

  A look of disbelief fell over Gideon’s face, he obviously thought that Alnur was exaggerating; and he was right. Fel and the Huntmaster would wipe the floor with a Minstella.

  The two drew their weapons and assumed their opening stances. Alnur blinked in surprise at the awkward stance that Gideon assumed. He held his sword in one hand above his head with the tip resting on his other outstretched hand in front of him.

  “I see you can sense the danger of this style. It is called the raging otter stance.”

  Before he could fully process what he was seeing, Gideon lunged forward with his lead foot overextending. Alnur’s body moved before he could think, smacking the leg with the side of his sword and throwing Gideon off balance as he crashed into the sand. As the man tried to raise himself, he found Alnur’s blade at his neck.

  Oh shit. Alnur thought to himself.

  The crowd was silent, there was still a chance for Alnur to salvage this, to calm Gideon and smooth it over as a lucky strike. That was until Zo whistled in celebration. Alnur stared daggers at her as Gideon gritted his teeth in anger. The assembled guests began whispering amongst themselves.

  Alnur removed his blade and offered a hand to Gideon. The master of the house batted Alnur’s hand away as he rose and brushed the sand from his clothing. With a shake of his head Alnur made to walk away, only to hear Bynard cry out. “Behind you!”

  Whirling around, Alnur managed to see Gideon’s blade crashing down towards him. With a curse he blocked the strike with the flat side of his broadsword at the last second. Gideon backed away and assumed another ridiculous stance. “I don’t know what the rules are down south, but here in the capital we spar to first blood.” He said with a smug smile.

  “This is ridiculous! I concede!” Alnur said sheathing Riptide.

  Gideon grit his teeth. Hissing under his breath so that only Alnur could hear him. “You backwater hillbilly. You come into my house and dishonor me!” Alnur didn’t rise to the bait, moving away from the man. “Between your whore sister bending over for the inquisition, or your freak of a sibling that conspires with the old gods, is there little wonder that your people fell to the dark gods with royalty like yourself.”

  Alnur froze.

  The man took the chance to thrust out with his sword. With a slow turn, Alnur held out his left hand and let the blade run through it to the cross guard. Gideon looked shocked as Alnur wrapped his fingers around the other man's hand that gripped the hilt of the blade. With his other hand, Alnur grabbed the pompous bastard by the scruff of his neck and pulled him close as he leaned his head back and brought his forehead down into the bridge of Gideon’s nose. There was a sickening crack as the man’s nose was broken, a fountain of blood pouring down his face.

  Alnur released Gideon’s collar and hand, letting the sobbing manchild drop to the sand in a limp pile. There was still the sword sticking out of his hand. The crowd gasped. Gideon rolled over and looked up between tears and blood. “You cheated! I had drawn first blood already!” He sniviled. In response, Alnur wrapped his hand in green flames as he rapidly oxidized the metal of the blade, the metal disintegrated as the pieces dropped to the sand below. The leather glove on his dead hand peeled away layer by layer until it revealed his blackened skin. He held up his palm towards Gideon. There in the center of his deadhand was a clean hole in the rotting flesh. There was no blood, only the shriveled mummified husk. Alnur stared through the hole with his one eye, watching the color drain from Gideon’s face as the hole slowly sealed shut once more.

  “You were saying.” He responded coldly. Casting his hand out for the crowd to see. There were gasps of horror as at least two fainted in shock. Alnur knelt down beside Gideon. His voice a harsh whisper of seething anger. “If you ever speak about my family again…” He said as he placed his dead hand on Gideon’s quivering cheek. Alnur could see his glowing eye reflected back in the man’s fearful gaze. With a grin, he lightly slapped Gideon’s cheek as the man flinched in fear.

  Alnur smiled as he stood, turning to face the horrified crowd. “I must offer my most sincere apology, after facing such a formidable foe I found myself so stricken with fear for my life that I took our sparring too far. I am sorry for the spectacle you were made to witness, my recent trauma has obviously left me in a state of mind that is ill fitting for such a noble art as Battualia.” He wrung his hands in front of him, looking as remorseful and crestfallen as he could. “I cannot express how lucky I am to have such a compassionate and understanding host as master Hawk.” He glanced back and narrowed his eyes.

  Gideon looked from the crowd to Alnur, then back to the crowd. Picking himself up in a hurry he cleared his throat. “Of course!” He said. “I allowed myself to become too eager with our duel. It has been so long since anyone gave me a proper challenge. I see now that I pushed you too far, perhaps you would prefer to retire for a bit to your room to rest?” He asked, trying not to meet Alnur’s gaze.

  With a broad smile, Alnur bowed. “I am humbled by your ability to forgive such a lowly display on my behalf.” Gesturing for Bynard. “Please, allow my runesmith to aid you.”

  Bynard approached with a sour look as he held up a rune etched orb. The characters glowed as Gideon yelped in pain, his nose snapping back into place with a crunch. “Next time you try to attack my master from behind, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” He said ominously under his breath as he backed away to Alnur’s side.

  With a trembling lip, Gideon smiled as he ushered the crowd towards his gazebo for tea.

  Zo approached Alnur. “Well, that could have gone better.” She motioned with her chin towards the retreating Gideon who was regaling the nobles with his recounting of the fight that had just occurred. “Think he’ll kick us out?”

  Bynard spat into the sand. “If he tries, I’ll make him beg for the Nightfather’s embrace.”

  Rubbing his temple. Alnur shook his head. “He’s too proud to let this go, but so long as he sees me as his golden goose, he can’t get rid of me. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him for now but I feel this won’t be the end of it.” The three made their way back to their private lounge to relax, there was little else to do until their excursion tomorrow.

  Throughout the day Alnur tried to gauge if he should try to make Zo aware of his intentions, but something in his gut told him that it wasn’t time.

  The next morning Alnur awoke early. He had barely slept a wink, his mind racing with thoughts of how today was going to go. A huge portion of his plan was riding on how well he convinced the masses of his honesty today. He had gotten dressed in his plain clothes and was now pacing the length of the room while he waited. Riptide was leaned against his bed. He was still debating whether to bring the broadsword or not.

  This late in the fall the sun was still a couple of hours from rising, which gave Bynard and himself the perfect chance to slip through the patrols. There came a knock at the door, Alnur made his way over and opened it while saying. “Morning Bynard, let us hurry bef-” He froze, it wasn’t Bynard at his door, but instead Zo. “Oh! Good morning, shouldn’t you be sleeping in? You finally have a day off.” Alnur tried to keep his surprise and suspicion out of his sickly sweet tone.

  “I wanted to speak with you. In private.” Zo spoke with a grim determination. Alnur felt the fury stir in his chest, something was wrong.

  With a warm smirk he gestured for Zo to enter his room. “What’s on your mind?” He said, closing the door and locking the bolt.

  Zo moved to the chair that faced the fireplace, she sat with her back to Alnur as she rested her head on her hands. “I can’t keep this up. Somebody is going to find out what’s going on sooner or later.” Alnur moved towards his bed as he silently reached for Riptide.

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  “Zo, what are you talking about?” His friendly cadence didn’t waver as he moved to stand behind Zo, unsheathing Riptide slowly as he locked eyes with the back of Zo’s head.

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t know Alnur!” She snapped. “I feel like an idiot for thinking that I could pretend like nothing was wrong.” She was fidgeting with her hands as she leaned her elbows on her knees.

  Alnur raised his weapon. How had she figured him out? He had been so cautious with his every move. There was too much riding on him succeeding, he couldn’t let anyone stand in his way. The warmth drained from his voice as he spoke what may be his final words to his old friend. “Say it.”

  Zo slammed her fist into her palm as she stood. Alnur twisted his body to deliver the death blow, the voices in his head screamed for him to do it, compelling him to action. “I think Bynard knows that I have feelings for him.”

  Flexing with all of his strength Alnur managed to awkwardly shift his weight so his strike went over Zo’s head as he stumbled over his own foot. “What! That’s what this was about!” He hissed, tossing his sword on to the bed as he tried to act natural while Zo turned to face him. “I mean, you seemed so upset that… I thought something terrible had happened.” His heart was pounding in his chest as he cursed in his mind. That would have been a disaster!

  Zo was not what society would consider to be traditionally feminine, with her hard features and well muscled physique that put even Alnur to shame, she had always come across as a warrior first, and a woman second. That was with the exception of one subject. “Come on Alnur! You’re the only person I’ve told about this, I can’t talk to anyone else.” She groaned.

  Alnur walked over and grabbed a glass of water with shaking hands, hoping to settle his nerves. “That was almost three years ago, we were so drunk that I had all but forgotten. Can’t you talk to your brother?”

  “All Mother’s tits, are you mad? He would try to talk to Bynard on my behalf and just make it awkward!”

  He turned to face Zo with an incredulous look as he thought back to that hazy night. “Wait, didn’t you mention that you were giving up since he wasn’t interested in romance? What changed?”

  Burying her face in her hands Zo exhaled exaggeratedly. “I did! Or I mean, I tried. What can I say, I had a thing for him since we were kids! I was fine moving on but then you-” She dropped her hands to point at Alnur accusatorily. “-had to go and get sent to the capital! Next thing I know I’m spending day after day alone with Bynard and all of my old feelings just came rushing back.” With a huff she dropped to her hunches and buried her face in her knees.

  “I have seen you get your arm broken during training, and carry on without flinching. Why the hells are you so worked up over this?” Alnur asked, genuinely confused. All thoughts of his schemes and plans seemed to ebb away as he lost himself for a moment.

  “That’s different!” She argued. “Fighting, hunting, that whole thing makes sense to me, it's in my blood. But I don’t know how to do-” She gestured wildly towards her posture and red face. “-all of this! You have Lillian. You know how to handle this sort of thing.”

  Leaning back against the wall, Alnur waved his hand. “That’s different. We were always close, and it… just sort of happened.” He said, looking away sheepishly.

  Zo gagged. “Well we can’t all be so picturesque and perfect.” She mumbled.

  “Wait, hold on. Circling back to what you said earlier. What do you mean you think he knows?”

  “Well, I’m not really being subtle.”

  “I had no idea you still had a thing for him.”

  Standing up, Zo pulled at her hair. “Are you kidding? I keep awkwardly looking over at him, only to find him staring at me, then he quickly turns away. Everytime I talk to him I trip over my words! Whenever we’re alone he feels so uncomfortable that he makes joke after joke to fill the silence. When we were sparring I tried to help him back to his feet and he turned red with anger at the thought of touching my hand. He said he was fine. Nobody who's fine says they are fine!” She roared. “I think he hates me.”

  Nodding his head Alnur thought about it for a moment. “Huh, when you put it like that…”

  There was a knock at the door, Zo spun around and assumed her usual glare of caution as she rested her hand on her weapon. The sudden shift in her demeanor was jarring to say the least as Alnur said. “Speak of the demon, that should be Bynard.” Zo made a desperate plea with her eyes. “I won’t say anything, you have my word.”

  Alnur moved to the door and found his hunch was correct. Bynard stood in his civilian clothes tapping his foot as he cast a look into the room and froze. “Uh… Was I interrupting something?” He asked, shuffling uncomfortably.

  “No.” Alnur lied. “Zo was just asking me what she should do for her day of rest.” He grinned as he nodded towards Zo. “I don’t think she knows how to relax.”

  Bynard snorted. “Now that you mention it, I can’t remember the last time she took a personal day.”

  Zo cleared her throat as she tried to hide her face turning crimson. “I will leave the king to you today. As for me, I have heard that there is a party being planned by master Hawk at some point in the coming weeks. I was hoping to get a dress.” Her eyes darted to the side as she looked away sheepishly.

  Alnur and Bynard shared a look as they both mouthed the word. Dress?

  “Is there something wrong with that?” Zo said glaring at the pair.

  The pair shook their heads vigorously. Bynard mumbled under his breath. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Alnur turned to Bynard. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “Nothing. Should we head out?”

  Nodding his head, Alnur gave Zo a farewell as he grabbed his bag, his eyes fell on Riptide as he let out a sigh. It was probably best to leave such a recognizable weapon. He and Bynard hurried to make it to their destination in time.

  The pair made it to the outside wall just as the sky began to shift in hues. Dark blues and pinks were starting to streak across the clouds as the first signs of sunrise began to show. The city was starting to stir from its slumber at this hour, droves of workers were moving from the outer rings to their jobs in the inner sectors. Thankfully, there wasn’t as much in the way of security when it came to leaving the inner rings.

  Bynard had been thorough in preparing a route that would lead them through the rings with little trouble. Alnur grew concerned when they neared the checkpoint for the fourth ring, but Bynard seemed unphased as he approached the posted gatekeeper.

  It was a shrewd older looking woman wearing a raincoat and holding a clipboard. She cast a scowl at the approaching Twin’s and tapped her pen against the paper. “Good morning, what business do you have in the fourth ring?” She said with an unenthused tone.

  Clearing his throat, Bynard said. “We’re off to visit a friend who’s under the weather.”

  The gate worker raised an eyebrow. “Do you have your slates?”

  “Of course, but before that.” Bynard pulled out a small pouch and held it out to the woman. “We found this on our way, it seems someone dropped their wallet. Would you hold on to it in case they come looking for it?”

  With a tired glance, the woman looked at the bag and back to Bynard’s smiling face. She hesitantly grabbed it and looked inside. Her eyes went wide as she snapped the strings closed. “With this my daughter could…” She cast a nervous glance at Bynard’s face again, frozen in a strange smile. “How did you know how much we needed for her surgery?” She whispered, her voice trembling.

  Bynard clapped his hands together in excitement. “Oh! So this was your wallet! I’m glad I could get it back to you.” The smile remained, but the warmth drained from his eyes as he spoke in a whisper. “I’m so glad that Kat might recover soon.”

  The color vanished from the gatekeeper's face as she glanced around nervously, there was a battle between her duty to the city and her duty to her family. She would need a nudge in the right direction. Alnur sighed to himself as he stepped forward and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “-And they shall walk amongst you, garbed in the clothes of the common folk, neither good nor evil, but as servants of the greater will. Look upon them and see their truth, for they are our agents, they are our-”

  “-Angels.” The woman finished with reverence. There was a far off stare as she clutched the coin purse tightly to her chest. “Saints watch over you both.” She murmured as she turned her back to the pair.

  Alnur and Bynard quickly made their way into the fourth ring. Once they were out of ear shot Alnur glared at Bynard. “That was a bit sloppy for you.”

  “Well.” Bynard shrugged. “Of the thirty seven possible gate keepers we got one of the worst. They must have changed their rotation last night, because my contact was supposed to be there. Though if Mabel is here, that means the guard we want on our return trip will be over at gate twenty three.” He rambled.

  “I take it back, you are as thorough as always. Now if you could just apply that energy to your training.” Alnur mocked.

  The fourth ring reminded Alnur of his visit to Fulcrest when he was young. The cramped buildings stacked on top of one another to try and eek out as much living space as possible. The people he passed were running around in a hurry, it wasn’t purpose that drove them to hurry, but necessity. Space was a finite commodity in the capital, there were only so many houses to go around. The citizens had two options, be wealthy enough to afford housing accommodations in one of the most sought after markets, or be employed by a patron in the inner rings.

  More often than not the outcome was sharing a room or house with as many other people as you could fit. But, if one was lucky enough to get one of the rare jobs inside the inner rings, that came with the added pressure that should you lose that job, you could end up being evicted not just from your home, but from the city.

  Bynard led Alnur down a series of alleys, finally reaching their destination, a stone wall. They had reached the outermost wall that ran the whole circumference of the capital. There was no way the pair would be able to scale the surface, it stood a hundred feet high, not to mention the hundreds of guards that patrolled it. Alnur raised an eyebrow at Bynard.

  The sly man held up a hand for a moment as he closed his eyes. A faint ringing crossed through the link, signaling the time. “Alright, seven am. This is our chance. Make sure no one sees us.” Bynard whispered as he moved to the stones of the wall and began to carve into them. Alnur watched over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for anyone. A moment later he felt a surge of power as the currents of energy that ran through the world shifted, he looked back and saw Bynard gasping for air as he fell to his knees. As Alnur took a step towards him to offer help, Bynard raised a hand. “I’m fine… Just takes a lot out of me…” He wheezed.

  Alnur looked at the wall, nothing had changed. “I don’t understan-” He was cut short as Bynard stood and walked through the solid stone, the wall parted like flowing water cascading off of his body. “Oh.” Alnur mumbled. Walking towards the wall, Alnur held out his hand. The stone shifted around it, it felt like sand pouring onto his skin. Taking a breath, he plunged himself into the stone. There was a moment of darkness, the roar of the shifting stone drowned out everything else as he inched forward.

  Suddenly he found himself on the other side, his eye blinded by the bright sunrise. He let the breath he had held out as he looked around to get his bearings. The outside of the city wasn’t what he had expected at all, it was far worse. Before them was an ocean of tents and makeshift shelters that stretched all the way to the river bed of the elder sister. The river acted as the main method of transport for supplies and commerce for the capital, the elder sister stretched from Fulcrest, all the way to the mountains of the Trest in the northern lands. It was also the main method for pilgrims to arrive at the capital, most never made it past the gate however.

  He had heard of the poor souls that lived outside the walls of the capital, people from every corner of the Empire made pilgrimage to the holy city, hoping to be one of the lucky few to gain access in the hopes of making it in the shining utopia. Some wanted to seek out comfort in the last bastion of the old world, while others saw purpose in serving so close to the Celestials and their most favored children.

  There was another caste that made the long trek, those that sought the mercy of the gods. The hybrids. In the Empire it was common to mark those that were born from the union of Celestial blood, they wore bands of rusted iron around their arms to mark them out. In the case that the hybrid was a mixture of Cabal bloodlines, they wore red bands of woven fabric around their neck. And lastly, if one was born of the unholy union of Cabal and Celestial blood, well those that survived such a hellish life were marked by branding their flesh with sigils of warning. They were known as the Forsaken.

  Sigils of warding marked hundreds of tents, each one cursing the inhabitant as godless filth. These humans were the lowest of society, yet they still desperately tried to find those even lower than themselves to ostracize and persecute. Even if it meant harming those that were barely clinging to life.

  Alnur felt a deep sadness in his chest as he cast his gaze over the sorry state of the common folk. In his home land there were still those that found themselves forgotten by society, the sorry few that slipped through the cracks and were left to suffer in silence. He had always tried to give those that found themselves in that desperate place every chance he could to climb back on their feet. Some did, some could not. It was a sad truth of the world, but the magnitude that he witnessed here was unthinkable.

  “How many are there?” He asked quietly.

  Bynard was keeping an eye out, making sure that no one saw the two phase through a wall. He responded nonchalantly. “I dunno, somewhere around thirteen to fourteen-”

  “There could be fourteen hundred!” Alnur cried.

  “No.” Bynard said, casting an uneasy look at Alnur. “Thirteen to fourteen thousand. This is just one of the clusters of pilgrims, the city is surrounded by others that are around the same size.”

  The words slammed into Alnur’s chest like a fist. He struggled to comprehend the scale of suffering before him. He had heard the reports, but the latest numbers put the number of pilgrims and asylum seekers at only a thousand. The speed at which things were progressing was horrifying. He had formulated his plan with the idea that he had at least three to five years until the population became this desperate. Something was deeply wrong, it was as if something was accelerating the Empire’s collapse.

  Taking a deep breath, Alnur looked out over the sea of people. “We need to accelerate the plan, tell your sister to move to the next phase.” He said, narrowing his eyes as he considered the ramifications.

  Bynard blinked in surprise. “If that is your wish, we will see it done.” He closed his eyes as he conversed with his sister Karla. His face twitched as he mouthed his responses, a bad habit that he had never been able to break away from. When he opened his eyes he nodded. “She had her concerns, but she’s sent the word to our other agents. They will spread the gospel.” There was that look in his eye again, the fervor. Bynard and his sister were one of the few that had managed to progress through the House of Whispers all the way to the first ceremony of truth. It had been touch and go, but they had both succeeded in overcoming their genetic inhibitors. Though it had left them both changed, gone was the blind loyalty to the false gods, only to be replaced by unwavering faith in Alnur and his grand plan.

  A twinge of guilt threatened to overcome him. This was a man that he had grown up with, his sister’s best friend. And because of Alnur, he would never be the same again. The crown whispered to him, soothing his misplaced guilt. There was always a cost to progress.

  He spotted a large yurt covered in various sigils of greeting, and a dozen more that threatened death upon those that called it home. He gestured for Bynard to follow. The pair approached the large fabric door of the yurt as a passing man held out a hand to stop them. The man cast a sour look at the tent as he hissed. “Do yourselves a favor, don’t go in there if you value your lives.” Before they could respond, the man carried on down the path.

  The pair shared a look and shrugged. They entered the tent and were immediately assaulted by a smell of rotting flesh and the sickly stench of infection. Alnur winced as he cast his gaze around the interior. The center of the yurt consisted of a communal fire pit that was used for cooking and warmth, while the exterior of the structure was ringed by three dozen beds. Despite the limited beds, there were at least sixty people in the tent. Entire families seemed to share a single bed as they huddled close for warmth. While others were reserved for a single injured person. The most notable thing was that everyone in the tent had a marking that denoted them as a hybrid.

  It didn’t take long to spot the source of the smell, every eye in the tent was turned towards one bed in particular and the small group that surrounded it. In the bed was a thrashing, screaming child that looked to be around thirteen years old. The young man was being restrained by a group of adults as they desperately tried to calm the boy's convulsions. Alnur held his hand to his mouth. The boy was a very rare hybrid, and a horribly cursed one as well. When one mixed the powers of the Wyrmbloods and the priests of the Blood swamp, they birthed a being with the power to bring unparalleled calamity, a Bloodstone Leper.

  The boy's skin was covered in boils and cysts, some had even grown to the size of Alnur’s fist. That wasn’t the worst part of the boy's affliction, it wasn’t blood or pus that filled those growths. No, they were filled with liquid magic. While Runesmiths and Archmages could use formulas and runes to draw on the powers of the ley lines that spanned the globe to power their spells. Some were born with the innate gift of housing magic in their bodies. This was the twisted bastardization of that same process. The poor child had no say in drawing the arcane energies into his body, worst yet the power would fester and rot his flesh as it stagnated in its new ill shaped host.

  There was only one method to relieve the arcane pressure, and that was to lance the growths and expel the magics within. But therein laid the cruelest twist of fate, not only would the process hurt the boy, but the released magic was a wild and terrible thing. Magic was already dangerous in the hands of those that trained their whole lives to eke out a meager understanding of its unpredictable nature. Now imagine if there was no telling what spell would be unleashed.

  And so the boy was forced to suffer. Few blood stone lepers lived through their teen years, those that did were driven insane by the pain, until one day they finally gave in to the urge to itch their skin. In that moment of blissful release, they are consumed in a chain reaction as years worth of stored spells begin to trigger one after the next. Entire cities have been reduced to ash from the ensuing storm of magic. Many rulers will kill a leper on sight, so as to protect their lands.

  Alnur moved towards the boy, brushing off the concerned hand of Bynard. The adults that were trying to prevent the boy from scratching were cursing as they struggled to hold him down without disturbing the growths themselves. An older woman with a rusted band around her forearm tried to stop Alnur, pleading for space. He moved her aside as he reached his dead hand down to the boy's sickly torso.

  With a breath he tapped into the Nightfather’s gift. Green flames danced across the boy’s body as those that had tried to restrain him yelped in surprise as they released him. Through the flames Alnur could feel the arcane power raging inside the growths, each one screaming to be released. The boy reached up to scratch his chest. “Bynard!” Alnur yelled.

  Without missing a beat, the thin man threw a rune etched knife at the boy. The knife came to a halt in the air above the child as its hilt surged with dark light, the boy’s body was frozen in place, unable to move.

  There was little time to waste. If left alone this child had enough arcane energy to level the whole shanty town. It was obvious that the boy was losing his fight with his powers. Alnur focused on one of the growths, channeling the power of entropy into the boil with all the control he could muster. The arcane energy raged, trying to escape from the flames that gnawed at it, but it was useless.

  Nothing could escape entropy.

  The boil sizzled as it burned away, leaving nothing but a nasty scar in its wake. All around him he heard the gasps from the onlookers. As he tried to focus on the next growth Alnur could feel the crystals in his body spreading out. His lost eye burned with pain as the jagged horn that grew from his head began to extend further out. In response to his meddling the other growths seemed to grow agitated, the arcane energy sensed the danger that Alnur posed and wanted to escape.

  Time wasn’t on his side. Luckily, he had learned of a way to help with that issue.

  With a curse he threw caution to the wind, expanding his consciousness as time slowed to a stand still, giving him a precious moment to assess the boy’s situation carefully. There were thirteen more growths that were bursting with power. Alnur felt his heart drop. There was no way he would be able to contain all thirteen in time, destroying another one would most likely trigger the rest to explode.

  This thing is a threat. Threats must be dealt with.

  Alnur could erode the boy’s whole body until there would be nothing left. The threat would be neutralized.

  Shaking his head, Alnur pushed the crown’s thoughts aside. This was the perfect chance he needed, saving the boy was paramount to the plan. If only Tayla was here, she would be able to do this. He thought with a heavy heart.

  Suddenly it hit him. Sweat dripped down his forehead as Alnur smothered the whole of the boy with entropic power, pushing against the boils with enough force to drive the arcane power back into the boy's body. It shifted until it was a singular unstable mass of energy. With nowhere to go the pressure began to raise as it started to violently react. Time lurched forward once more as Alnur plunged a dagger into the boy's side while dismissing the entropic flames in the same moment.

  The arcane energy acted like a bolt of electricity, choosing the path of least resistance. It surged towards the gaping wound like a wild animal. Right into Alnur’s trap. He placed his dead hand above the wound and poured every ounce of power he could muster as his hand burst into flames. The stream of magic leapt out towards freedom, only to be pulled into the waiting maw of oblivion.

  A shockwave blasted outwards as Alnur braced his arm from the force of the arcane energy. The yurt shook as gale force winds raged, threatening to rip the building to shreds. The assembled hybrids screamed in fear as they watched the dazzling display of raw power and green flames. Alnur grit his teeth as the crystal in his body hungrily grew from the outpouring of his gift.

  Just as he feared he would fail in containing the storm of wild magic, the stream of power faltered and slowed to nothing. He stumbled backwards as Bynard reached an arm out to brace him. Panting from exhaustion, Alnur clutched his smoldering dead hand. The mummified flesh sizzled as layer upon layer of the blackened skin melted away, only to slowly regrow a moment later as it cooled.

  The old woman that had tried to halt Alnur before rushed to the boy, tears streaming down her face. “How did you- What are you?” She sobbed as she cradled the shivering child. Murmurs swept across the yurt as every hybrid watched the impossible scene play out.

  Alnur composed himself, this was the moment he had been waiting for. He gestured to Bynard, who moved towards the remains of the fire pit. Casting some shards of glass into the pit, flames of purple and green burst to life. It wasn’t just for theatrics, the flames were actually a combination of spells that kept others from listening in from outside while also detracting people from wanting to enter the yurt.

  Those in the yurt watched enraptured as Alnur raised his voice, mustering all of the gravitas he could. “Brothers and sisters. I have been granted a vision, the age of gods is coming to an end.” He reached up and showed his remaining eye, it burst into flames as a sigil formed in his iris. The brand of the Forsaken. “The age of the Hybrid will soon be upon us!”