A scratching, primal fingernail plucked inside Elinor’s breast as the living nightmare circled its spear to the left, thurible barely tapping the black granite floor and generating a sound that played a dark pulse through the air.

Becdeth’s monstrous jaws clicked against one another, a deep chuckle reverberating with the noise. “Perhaps this form is a tad overwhelming…”

Elinor’s emerald irises drifted between her guards, her natural resilience helping to combat the fiend’s petrifying madness; her Mythickin Passive of True Sight allowed her to peer through some of the illusions the entity crafted, but she suspected even this was only what her mind could currently comprehend, much like Apollo’s form.

Camellia, the Quen’Talrat, Noa, her maids, and even her undead, mindless drone were stricken by the augural allure of the entity’s baneful aura, so all-consuming it engrossed all thought to the unnatural being.

A mix of ebony and ashen smoke swirled from the creature’s metal censer, obscuring its body, and the dualistic draw and repulsion lessened as the mist hid the sinister fiend; once concealed, the overwhelming lulling of the horror’s hypnotic trance weakened to the point her followers could move again.

Still, Elinor knew it was a trick of the monstrosity to quell its prey into a state of ease. She could still feel the bone-chilling vibrations of the nightmare’s presence if she listened closely.

“E-Empress,” Noa whispered in terror, hugging herself while fixated on the crawling fog, “I can feel its touch … Everywhere … A miasma creeping through me … It’s impossible to stop.”

Taking a long, calming breath, Elinor let it go in a slow stream. “Becdeth won’t hurt us so long as you are a member of my Empire … Bear with it if you can.”

Imperial Presence remained intact, her fingers tightening against the sides of her throne. “That being said … What kind of help are you offering, Becdeth?”

To her surprise, a cloaked figure exited the mist; the fiend’s beast-like legs were gone, yet mixed smoke continued to froth from the frayed black cloak that concealed its body. Becdeth’s golden mask wore a smile, now rounded like a human head and showing a mane of aurelian hair flowing down its covered back.

Its mouth didn’t move as the nightmare’s feminine voice drifted through their thoughts. “I do hope this presentation is to a greater extent more amiable than my previous restrained bearing. Do you accept this aspect?”

Elinor forced a smile, knowing she was already a bit too deep to turn it away, and the fiend couldn’t move against her; she had to retain her composure. “I’m hesitant to accept anything more from you at this point.”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm … A wise decision to take when dealing with most of the entities from my home Existence. However, we are bound by fate, in a dance brought together by none other than a being one could say, he-he-he…” Her voice turned masculine. “... Transcends that which is known … Most appropriate, might I add … I’ll ask again, do you accept this aspect?”

Clearly, he was referencing Apollo; pondering her words, Elinor carefully stated, “I accept the way you look at this time. What help are you offering?”

Becdeth’s ladylike tone radiated a gentle melody that drew Elinor back to times of her youth, yet when she spoke, her mind was snapped out of the reverie. “Perhaps it would be better to show you…”

The cloaked figure drifted to the wall, pulling all attention, and Becdeth’s gray-skinned hand slid through the front fold of her cloak to press against the black granite.

Noa jolted, stiffening as every inch of space around them erupted with runic symbols; the A.I.’s crescent moon-like eyes went wide, but her petrified horror soon turned to wonder, and she gradually relaxed.

“It’s so cold! I … No, please, not … What are you…”

The flood of runes pulled Elinor’s focus with the rest of her guard as they began spinning around them, Noa’s mouth parting in disbelief. “How are you doing that?” she whispered in awe.

A foreboding curl twisting her lips, Becdeth’s abyssal hollow eyes narrowed. Her soft, soothing voice turned motherly and made Elinor’s gut churn. “Watch and experience the artistry of each flowing curve and point. Do you hear the lingering melody surrounding you?”

The saliva in Elinor’s mouth thickened as her sense of direction scattered; in an instant, her position to all of her subjects changed. The runes drifted apart, revealing an entirely new environment; they’d teleported.

“Amazing … It’s so beautiful,” Noa mumbled, zoning out a little before snapping back to the present, blinking, and shaking her head. “I … I never knew there was such a design!”

Amra’Cora and the other Quen’Talrat shifted uncomfortably, scanning the colossal barren grand hall they’d been transported to. “I do not recognize this place.”

“No, I recognize some of this architecture,” Melia’Ia returned. “It’s reminiscent of a section in your mother’s keep.”

“Now that you mention it … It bears some resemblance … It was destroyed by the Avana, though.”

Elinor turned away from the chuckling horror to bring her Thélméthra throne into a full circle; the area hummed with various colored runes, but these were far larger and more complicated than the ones they’d seen in the hallway.

Gauging their location by her distance to Tiffany and Edmon while comparing it to the map she’d been shown of the surrounding landscape, she figured they were somewhere on the east side of the Crown of Meridian, as Sari’aél named the colossal mountain at the heart of this network.

“You teleported us? Hmm … I suppose it is a good function to have, but my retainers are going to be in a panic that I instantly changed locations.”

Noa adjusted her gown, tail flicking to the left while looking around. “Ahem, Empress, I can send Giliri to inform High Lord Edmon—it will just take me a second to find my way back through the Dark Zone—it’s simple to connect to a point I’ve visited.”

A small smile touched Elinor’s sober expression. “That would be wonderful, Noa. What is the Dark Zone; are they the parts you haven’t explored?”

She nodded, lips still parted a bit; Elinor assumed she was trying to catalog the area. “Mhm … It’s hard to push out with the amount of power I’ve been able to access from the Nexus, given Mila’s tampering, but I am slowly making progress … I have informed Giliri, Empress.”

Vision sliding to Becdeth, she momentarily wondered if he could be manipulating Noa against her but soon dismissed it as another form of attack the Blood Sun wouldn’t allow. “Why bring us here, Becdeth?”

“It is a point of interest for you, I am sure,” he said, and Elinor saw his ceremonial spear had appeared by his side when she hadn’t been looking. “Feel free to explore as we talk … He-he-he, you might find a few hidden surprises.”

Silence ensued as she examined the space; it was somewhat similar to the Palace’s Great Hall, yet there were only three floors, and they were placed a bit higher than the other. No stairs or exits could be seen, and by the high walls blocking sight on each upper level, the room appeared more suited for combat than luxury.

High above them was a ruby-colored metal ornament with embedded black gems and eight large white crystals of various shapes orbiting the spinning object.

Between the intricate web-like design of the piece was an acorn-shaped crimson jewel that dripped what appeared to be blood onto the metalwork. As she watched, the liquid flowed in arcing patterns from the black gems to the orbiting white, turning them scarlet for a moment before the color faded.

Behind them was an enormous black granite door with runic symbols of red, rustic, and gray etched in large patterns to create a massive shield emblem that matched the one on Ke’Thra’Ma’s throne.

Leave it to Ke’Thra’Ma to develop a rune that would symbolize himself, Elinor mused, opening their channel to the others to participate in her inquiries. Is there anything more you or your troops can tell me about this place, Amra’Cora?

“Not much, I fear, Empress,” she responded, and each of the Quen’Talrat shook their own heads. “How the upper walls are fashioned make it look similar to the fortress architecture that my mother’s castle had—this zone appears to be a death trap—but there doesn’t seem to be any place to reach each level.”

“Mmh-uh,” Camellia interjected, jumping down into a jog, placing her hand against the floor, “I sense movement all around us … The stone we stand on may seem solid, but it’s actually a form of hardened liquid that is constantly in a shift at a microscopic level … It’s unlike anything I’ve felt in Nethermore.”

Liquid? Elinor’s narrowed eyes drifted to the pillars and runic symbols as Becdeth observed, floating in the air beside its weapon; to her sides, Valerie and Theresa stood ready to aid her in anything she might need, but she could sense their unease in the fiend’s presence.

Turning to Noa, she asked, “Have you delved into the network of this place yet? I am told the ground is liquid. Is that true?”

Noa nervously scratched her left bicep and puffed out a frustrated sigh. “These runes are … very unique, Empress … I’m trying to decipher their purposes and combination effect … It’s just—they are quite complicated compared to what I know, and from what I can tell, this wasn’t originally connected to my Nexus, but Mila found it and brought it into the grid.”

Not receiving any satisfactory answers, Elinor’s gaze went to Becdeth. “Fine, I’ll bite … What makes this place so important to me?”

Becdeth’s feminine voice drifted through the colossal hall, or it could have been her imagination because it was as if she spoke directly into Elinor’s brain. “It will be quite the prize once further research is conducted … I am simply pointing you in the right direction. Observe…”

Noa’s hands tightened against her breast with glee as all the runes faded, and in the next instant, the floor below Elinor’s feet separated to float into the air, bringing everyone to the third level on the immense square that had been cut from the ground.

“I’ve never even guessed you could use gems as a conductor like this … To use with anything … No, it’s the medium … It’s so complex!”

“Patience,” Becdeth soothed, shifting positions to face the A.I. “It is a symphonic rhythm that pulls you into a harmonic ballet … Do not watch … You must experience the dance … Its attraction and gentle pressure lead you into rapture.”

“I … I can feel it,” she breathed. “It’s … It’s so much bigger than I thought.”

“Excellent, you are grasping the basic structure. Now … take control.”

Elinor’s focus was drawn to the wall above the giant double doors as it drained of color, becoming transparent to reveal blazing light, and, to her shock, she found a frozen courtyard. The edge dropped off into a chasm, and the only path up appeared to be from enormous black chains that sank into the icy sheet, the scenery endorsed by a light snowfall.

Rising from her throne as the floating slab stopped, Elinor sent her drone to the end and held out her hand; in wonder, her fingers slid over a cold invisible barrier—the stone wall was still there. “How customizable is this fortress?”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm,” Becdeth drifted forward to hover beside her. “Incredibly, and this is only touching the surface. Is my aid worth your attention, Elinor?” he questioned, a mysterious smile on his holden lips.

Vision narrowing, Elinor’s focus returned to the wasteland. To their right was a gigantic steaming lake, and illuminated through the mist was a floating ball with dozens of flaming purple gems, drawing the liquid and steam in before shooting it into the atmosphere; the black construct glistened like the stars.

“This is all fascinating, Becdeth … but I can’t help feeling all this is just a show to make me more comfortable around you. If you only speak the truth, it would be prudent to keep me dancing along to your tune by distracting me.”

She shifted posture to glare at the sinister entity. “You were coy about it, but you mentioned the Blood Sun … What do you know about that, and…” Her thoughts returned to the conversation with Apollo regarding dimensions. “Were you implying you’re not from this Existence?”

Feminine cadence mixing into its words, Becdeth’s golden hair shifted to look at the dispersing smoke around its ceremonial spear, and the creature snickered. “The way to Magthera is always open to the blind … You must listen closely to enter the forbidden Realm of Dreams and go beyond the Wall of Sleep to reach that which is beyond understanding.”

All she understood was that it wasn’t from her Existence, much like Sari’aél.

Sending a private message to her agitated guard and maids, still taking up a defensive posture around her, Elinor prepared herself for what was to come. Relax as best you can … Becdeth will be treated as our guest. Tiffany explained the conditions of our contract with the Covenant.

“Yes, Empress, but this … this thing…” Amra’Cora whispered, unsure if it could hear their mental communication. “It isn’t natural, and we have been taken to a foreign place against our will.”

I know … Take the opportunity as a training exercise and grow.

The Quen’Talrat shivered at the prospect and challenge, rebuilding their courage as the horror waited and watched. Camellia was keeping her focus fixated on the eldritch being, undead hearts thumping with agitation in her chest, and both maids tried their best to remain composed.

Clearing her voice, Elinor shifted to look at Noa, still taken in by the new tricks the creature taught her. “Becdeth will be our guest; likewise,” she said, vision turning to the fiend, “I expect you will be civil?”

A lump dropped down Noa’s throat as shivers ran down her frame, following Becdeth’s descent to the slab’s ground; its arms and feet were still obscured by a night-black cloak with golden symbols woven into the torn fabric.

“I have no intention of being anything but courteous, Empress Elinor, and now I will ask, will you heed my advice and accept my help?”

Elinor shifted her drone to the side, appraising the sinister nightmare. Considering Apollo’s explanation on how one transferred Existences, a question came to Elinor’s heart; she needed to understand more about this creature before going further.

“I have more questions.”

“By all means, ask away,” he smirked, moving to gaze across the arctic landscape.

Collecting her thoughts, Elinor took a deep breath and returned to her throne. “Have the crystals infected your Existence if, as you say, the way is always open … When we first met, you said you’re searching for a prize that couldn’t be named, or it fled into the darkness … Is that why you came to my Existence?”

A deep chuckle from Becdeth seemed to oscillate her bones. “A wonderful memory, Empress … Indeed, there is something that was stolen … Something related to you, in fact.”

Masculine voice returning, his amusement fell a tad. “The Sinking Deep operates in mysterious ways, Elinor … A glimpse I have seen in the lingering touch surrounding you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elinor asked, suppressing a shiver. “You don’t mean the Blood Sun, do you?”

His golden mask shook ever so slightly. “He-he-he … No, Empress … No, it is the gentle touch of that which radiates within you. A map that you must look to that is hidden inside that which must be unsealed.”

Ladylike tone taking over, a gray-skinned hand slid through her cloak to caress the hovering spear; only darkness could be seen within. For a split second, Elinor witnessed dozens of black, soulless eyes covering the cracked flesh, yet one blink, and they were gone.

“It is this that is my primary purpose for entreating you … Eventually, you will allow me to observe this missing key I require, and it is my desire to prompt you to open such a path.”

Elinor’s expression tightened. “Allow … because you can’t force yourself into me by the Blood Sun’s protection?”

“Rightfully paranoid, heh-he-he. It matters little as to the reason,” she whispered, hand returning to the shadows. “I was born of the darkness … granted eyes within the dreams of the Sinking Deep to recover that which was taken, and friend or foe … Our fates were meant to be crossed. Now I see Destiny’s hand in the vision of the gate, you see as a crystal, which brought us together.”

She drifted forward, hollow eyes narrowing. “My purpose is clear. Speak your next question.”

Elinor’s gaze shifted to Noa as Becdeth turned to the quivering A.I. “I—umm, this is so grand that … Umm, was it you—you’re just so skilled—I was wondering if you helped the Empress return me to my position?”

“True,” Elinor hummed, studying the horror. “Tiffany mentioned there was interference, likely by the Covenant.”

Becdeth’s mane of golden hair swayed with his head again, voice deeper and bolder. “Not I, Empress, but another of the Covenant. However, it is not for me to tell.”

“Did Sar'ollaz send you?” Elinor pressed since the fiend was answering her questions. “And if so, why is he forcing you to help me?”

“Empress, Empress,” he soothed in a patient tone, “You misunderstand … Sar'ollaz has little I desire to compel me to do anything that does not fall into my interest. He resents the position you have unwittingly put him in and my honesty, which was why he reluctantly chose to implore my support in aiding you.”

An unnerving twist came across Becdeth’s mask. “I rejected his proposal. I do this for our future association, Empress, not his personal machinations that do not appeal to my … appetite.”

Knowing the Devil was having trouble with his own organization told Elinor how volatile these entities were; Sar’ollaz was nothing to scoff at, as her Seraph made clear, yet Becdeth had no reservations about rejecting the creature.

Elinor relaxed a tad, beginning to better grasp the dynamic between the Covenant members; Becdeth’s motivations were simple, despite the enigma that shrouded the entity. “So … Basically, we’re operating on a credit basis, is what I’m understanding? What if I choose to not repay it, or my value for your assistance is worth less than you expect?”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm,” her head and lips tilted the opposite way, thoughtful voice softer again, and golden locks swaying with the motion. “Needless concerns … Our paths will align, so the Harbinger has spoken in my dreams.”

“And who is this Harbinger … Is it your overseer or ruler?”

“Mmh, it isn’t so defined in a manner you would grasp … The Harbinger is that which speaks for the unknowable, supreme, and abhorrent … In the depths of the abyss, there lies the voice of The End…

“The waking cannot grasp that which is beyond concept and form … One must question themselves, are they strong enough to transcend to see … Are they brave enough to enter the Dream to reach the esoteric … Are they strong enough to survive the fracturing of Intelligence and Law to expand outside limitations and reason?”

Elinor sighed, but her vision became sharp. “I suppose you’re saying it’s above my comprehension … I can accept that at this point. So, can you tell me why Sar'ollaz is forced to support me?”

“Naturally, his Law,” he chuckled, his spear slowly twisting in the air. “You are a member of the Covenant, and as such, are protected by that position. In addition, Sha’Guala is in a far more vulnerable state than Sar'ollaz would like, which means an apparatus, such as Noa, is as much a threat as a convenient tool.”

Masculine voice returning, he glanced toward the invisible wall. “As a member of the Covenant, Empress, it is also expected of you to safeguard its base of operations. Give and Take … Such is the law of the Covenant.”

Satisfied by the answer, Elinor folded her fingers across her abdomen. “I enjoy this transparency, Becdeth, and I can see why Sar'ollaz might be aggravated that he was required to send you … Why is that, by the way … Could not Bo-Ko, Aidrh’ruz, or some other member be sent?”

“Unfortunately for Sar'ollaz, or perhaps it better to say by Fate’s design—he-he-he—no one else was available, nor willing to accept his request … He is bound by his Law; we, to a much lesser degree our own.”

“Hmm … If that is the case, where do you rank, and the current power structure?”

“I am numbered in the Covenant hierarchy at four, Empress,” the amused feminine voice responded. “Most unfortunate, I cannot explain that which does not pertain to me; although, I can say those ranked higher, and that of myself, have no interest in such concepts as contending for such a purpose. We have simply obtained our high station due to the passage of time … he-he, and the passing of members.”

“I see … So, you’re saying those lower than rank five struggle for power and position, but you and the top three are powerful enough to not be unseated nor concerned at the prospect. Very well,” she looked down at the fiend while her followers watched with apprehension, “I suspect a part of this meeting was to get acquainted. No?”

Becdeth rose into the air, turning to face her. “You adapt swiftly with the aid of those seeds within you … Careful, Empress, I have two final things to impart to our newest addition.”

Trying not to fidget at the nightmare’s growing ominous presence as it prepared to leave, she swallowed the saliva that gathered in her mouth. “I’m listening.”

“First, what you seek is within this fortress … Take time in searching its secrets; it appears the one you call Ke’Thra’Ma was quite invested in this project, and there is much secrecy hidden within this place.”

“Second…” Her voice deepened, hollow eyes narrowing. “I see betrayal during a time of great need in your future, Empress. Be cautious of your secrets … Even to those you trust most.”

Naturally, as could be expected from such an entity, Becdeth faded into mist before its otherworldly presence utterly vanished. “We will meet again in the sleep, Dark Child of the Outlands; I pray for the moment spilled blood and undead tears are sacrificed upon your charred hands … May fresh snow bury you in the Sinking Deep, Last Empress of the Dead … there is a dream left to cling to.”

Letting his parting chill wash through her, Elinor suppressed a quiver; she sat in silence for a time, vision lingering on the frozen wasteland. Cryptic creatures are the worst.

“Hmm … Noa, can you open the way for us to search this fortress?”

The girl nodded, black, azure highlighted hair bobbing with the motion. “Yes, Empress! Umm, I’m … perplexed about what to think of this Becdeth creature.”

“As am I, Noa … We can’t waver, though. I want someone who can fix my city and your network. How much have you been able to learn about this place?”

Noa’s eyes drooped with her tail. “Not much, I’m afraid, Empress … I was given a basic understanding of the very advanced systems by your guest, but it is far outside of the scope I typically function at, and I need to learn the designs. It’s challenging even to map the basic structure and floor plans … It is this liquid stone-like substance that is taking a lot of my Cores to process.”

“I understand. Is it possible for you to develop and expand yourself?”

“It is … but time is required, and further research into possible avenues Mila discovered or research the Ke left, which I suspect were the basis of her advancement.”

The floating stone platform returned to the ground, melding into it, and a passageway to their left opened into a wide hallway that went past sight. “Should we start here?” Noa asked.

“As good of a place as any,” Elinor sighed. “We can walk; I want you entirely focused on scanning this place. Camellia, if you sense anything, bring it to our attention.”

“Yes, Empress!”

“Good … Now, let’s find our rune expert.”