***The Hall of Worlds, Kinzena, Deraan continent***

Sasha Honnekun wiped her sweaty palms on her bright white healer’s jerkin for probably the hundredth time.

The tension was palpable.

Marida En’hol herself, the powerful seer known as The Omniscient, was standing in the center of the room, tossing around terse orders with the absolute confidence they would be obeyed.

She had barged into Kinzena land uninvited and browbeat The Immortal into following. Her uncle was a vassal of Kinzena, and through cunning wordplay, she suggested the Alia could save his lord’s life if he followed her, and if he didn’t…

The Omniscient had then dragged her and her uncle to The Hall of Worlds, where the Kinzena were expected to return at any moment.

Tensions were high in the room, hands hovering near their weapons, despite The Omniscient not bringing any soldiers with her into the hall. She was entirely surrounded by the enemy, but the very confidence she exuded seemed to cow those around her.

“Stand right there,” The Omniscient instructed her uncle, pointing to a spot directly beside the central portal, where dozens of camp followers were streaming into the room, watching the goings-on of their betters with quickly stifled curiosity.

“One step to your left. Kneel. I said kneel.”

The Immortal shot the ancient seer a baleful gaze, then knelt beside the portal.

“Now don’t move.”

The Omniscient crossed her arms and waited. She seemed to think better of where she was standing and adjusted.

Suddenly the attitude of the men and women streaming through the portal changed.

Screams began to ring through the marble halls as panicked civilians rushed through the gate, followed by more and more wounded.

Some of the wounds were hideous. Missing limbs, gaping holes in the body like some great beast had taken a tremendous bite out of them. Others were small holes, as if they’d been stabbed by a stiletto.

Sasha took a step forward, building the strength of her gift, feeling the power flare in her heart.

“Uncle, can I heal these people?” she called out.

The Immortal glanced at the En’hol, who nodded.

“Go for it,” he said.

Sasha ran forward and placed her hand over a severed leg. She carefully applied a bit of her gift to the wound, stopping the bleeding long enough for the woman to get help. A lifetime of training in the art of triage dictated her actions, now.

Triage was all about saving those who could be saved, with the least amount of power spent to do it. It made her heart hurt to walk past a screaming woman bearing a limp man whose rib cage was half-removed.

She might be able to save him. But only him.

She shoved the guilt aside and sank into a trance, spinning more power from the ball of energy inside her, using a dollop here, and a dollop there. She was almost too focused to hear The Omniscient’s next words.

“Immortal. Prepare your most powerful healing,” Marida En’hol said. Her uncle nodded, and even from where she stood, Sasha could feel the power grow inside him, like a miniature sun only twelve paces away, vastly outstripping Sasha’s meager capabilities.

A moment later, Vendrith Kinzena stepped through the portal, clutching a bleeding hand. He also sported a wound in his side. It was a serious wound, to be sure, but it wasn’t exactly worthy of her uncle’s most powerful healing.

The Omnipresent frowned. “Marida, what are you doing—”

ZzzzzziPow ZzzzzziPow ZzzzzziPow. ZzzzzziPow ZzzzzziPow

A dozen or so somethings moving too fast to see flew out of the portal and perforated the Kinzena House leader, penetrating his armor and his skull with ease, flinging him to the floor directly in front of her uncle.

The whizzing objects continued to pour through the portal for a good five seconds, catching many more people and wounding them. One of the men standing beside Sasha fell to the ground in pain beside her.

She threw herself to the ground, shutting her eyes tight as the assault continued.

When Sasha opened her eyes, everyone in the room had reached a similar conclusion and made themselves small, huddled on the ground against the onslaught of invisible attacks.

Except Merida En’hol. The woman stood with her arms crossed in the center of the room, entirely unharmed.

On the ground beneath her uncle’s hands, Vendrith Kinzena gasped, tiny metal pieces no larger than a knucklebone ejecting themselves out of his mortal wounds. One slid out of his skull, tumbling off his scalp onto the floor.

“What just happened?” he gasped, climbing to his feet. The portal blinked out behind him.

“I just saved your life,” Merida En’hol said, her expression smug. “Now you owe me.”

“Gods help anyone that owes you anything,” he said, his armor rattling as he climbed to his feet, tugging on the straps that would release the ruined metal from his shoulders. “Let alone their lives. What do you want, witch?”

“Oh, nothing major. It’s just come to my attention that you have someone that belongs to me.” She pointed off to the side, where several people sat in an iron cage.

Sasha was stunned when she realized Grant En’hol was among them. Sasha headed over while the House leaders haggled. There was no way Vendrith would refuse her offer in the end. Fugitives belonged to whoever brought them back, but Vendrith could not appear dishonorable and ungracious. Hundreds of people had just witnessed his life being saved.

It was a situation that was impossible to get out of.

The En’hol specialty.

“Grant!” Sasha said, stepping up beside Grant’s cage.

“Oh, Sasha,” he said, shifting against the bars of his cage to get a better look at her. “I haven’t seen you since page training.”

“Same,” she said, using her magic to keep the blush from rising to her face. “You know, you’re a cautionary tale they tell to young Alia now. How love makes you do stupid, dangerous things.”

“Oh really? I guess I was good for something,” Grant scoffed.

“You look a lot older,” Sasha marveled. He looked like he’d shed a great deal of naivete in the last few years. It was attractive.

Grant raised an eyebrow.

“In a good way,” she hastily amended.

“Where’d you get the tattoos?” She pointed out the golden ink just barely visible beneath his sideburns.

“I did study forbidden knowledge for the last three years…for love,” he said with a shrug. “Oh, let me introduce you. This is Chris Campbell. He’s a constable from the place we just came from, and this is Debbie Caghue, a wet nurse.” He pointed at the fat old man and the frizzy woman.

The woman said something in a strange foreign tongue, her tone harsh.

“Oh, apologies. They’re both constables.”

“Debbie, Chris, this is Sasha Honnekun, a healer and daughter of one of the Great houses.”

How on Orsoth could a constable be so FAT? I thought he was a successful merchant or a prince or something. Strange. Perhaps the woman is Vith-blooded?

Then Grant gently scooped a lump of rags off the woman’s lap and held it up, revealing a baby. The chubby little girl was asleep.

“And this is Ellanore Ku’leth,” he said with a wistful smile. “Lily’s daughter.”

Sasha gasped. “You and Lily…”

Grant rolled his eyes. “No. I wish. She settled down with a peasant on another planet.” He glanced at the detective. “Apparently. The Endless will be coming for her sooner or later. Gods, if I’d known that…boy touched my Lily, I’d have….” Grant shook his fist for a moment before slumping against the bars in defeat.

“I suppose I probably should’ve guessed.”

“Who’s The Endless?” Sasha asked.

“Who’s the what now?” Grant asked.

“The Endless. The words you just said.”

Grant blinked. “I have no idea.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. En’hols, she thought, scowling. No matter how dangerous, handsome and emotionally vulnerable Grant had become in the last eight years, he was still an En’hol, and dealing with them was always an exercise in frustration.

A half-dozen Vith-blooded knights stepped up to the wagon and began unloading the prisoners. Grant looked relieved to be able to stretch to his full height as he gracefully stepped out of the wagon, significantly more relaxed than his fellow passengers.

“What is THAT!?” Merida En’hol’s voice cut through the idle moment.

The sea of onlookers parted in front of The Omniscient. The seer stepped forward, her gnarled finger pointing directly at Grant.

No, it was pointing at the bundle he held against his chest.

“Bring it here,” she said, crooking her finger.

Grant paled, stepping forward under the intense gaze of his House leader. He couldn’t exactly refuse the second-most influential individual on the continent.

Merida used one of her weathered fingers to peel open the baby’s swaddling cloth, peering at the baby’s face. “Thought you could hide this one from me if you kept quiet about it, eh, Vendrith?”

The old man’s mask of sour displeasure didn’t slip.

“I’ll take the baby, too.”

“That’s a step too far,” Vendrith said, stepping forward. “The child is not of your blood, nor is it a fugitive. It was procured from another realm by the Kinzena at great expense, and you have already chosen your payment as thanks for…saving my life. This one rightfully belongs to Kinzena.”

“I forgot how narrow-minded you are,” Merida said, glancing up at the white-haired man. “I don’t want the child. I need to kill her.” The old woman pointed a gnarled finger at the baby, which Grant clutched closer to his chest.

“What’s your play here, old woman?” Vendrith said.

“No play. That thing is an aberrant Alia that could kill us all, and it must be snuffed out before that is no longer an option.”

“I tell you what. Kill the baby now, and as a gesture of good faith, you may hold onto my nephew, as long as he’s properly gelded first.”

Grant paled further.

“Deal,” Vendrith said, nodding decisively.

Sasha watched as the baby was torn out of Grant’s hands by a Vith-blooded knight. The sudden, violent motion woke her up, and she began to bawl, filling The Hall of Worlds with plaintive howls that tugged on Sasha’s heart.

Politics was often cut-throat, but Sasha had never seen anything this bad. There was nothing she could do about it, though. She looked away as the knight raised the blade above his head, looking at Grant instead.

Grant was…twitching. Foaming at the mouth, actually. Sasha’s eyes widened as the fit got rapidly more violent, an aura of powerful magic radiating off him.

“Don’ker, don’ker,” he squeezed out between a clenched jaw, his eyes widening.

“Don’t kill her!” Grant shouted at the top of his lungs, diving forward like a puppet on strings, shielding the wailing child with his own rib cage.

The blade came down and lodged itself partway through the En’hol scion before the Vith-blooded knight was able to stop himself.

“Grant!” Sasha cried, stepping forward and injecting her power into the wound.

“Get him off the child,” Merida En’hol said, waving a dismissive hand. “We don’t have time to humor Grant’s sentimental hagar shit.”

The Vith-blooded knights easily separated the foaming seer from the baby.

“Shall we continue, Ma’am?” one of them asked, glancing at her, obviously uncomfortable with the act of baby-murder.

“Of co…” The old woman’s jaw grew slack, her eyes wide and vacant.

She and Grant both collapsed to the floor, wriggling in place as they spoke the same words in discordant harmony.

“Woe to the Great Houses! In their eternal quest for power they have finally achieved what they sought, and it will be their doom! The Enemy will flood the land with an army unlike any the world has seen. It will grow without limit, requiring no master nor provisions to sustain it as it rends the world asunder, and it will be Endless!”