Malefacorum made his way to the temple as fast as his carriage, and his legs, could carry him. The great temple of the stars was unusual among the buildings of Pas’en, rather than square, it was wide and round. Placed on the highest point in the city, it was more than a place of worship. The lowest levels held the place of prayer, but the upper levels held something more. The ceiling was a thick curved glass that brought the sky into focus. Above that was yet another floor, which had a ceiling of the same curvature that even further focused the stars. So it was, all the way to the top of the great dome.

The worshippers within would be laying on their backs that night, staring up at the stars which, to them, seemed far, far closer than the Heavensent Starwatcher priests knew them to be. Malefacorum gave a slightly cynical laugh. Typical peasants and even some nobles believed that it was magic that brought the stars closer, the reality was that it was simply the work of their glass with one minor enchantment each compounding on the other.

The beauty of the heavens however, greatly enhanced faith. He dismounted from his carriage and headed toward the round stone building. The doors were barely visible, being made of stone themselves and having no handles. They could only be ‘easily’ opened from within unless someone used magic.

Malefacorum approached the door and pulled a small rope that hung from outside, the light tinkling of a bell barely reached his ears, and a moment later the doors to the temple opened.

They groaned like an elderly man asleep and dying, and through them he passed. He immediately veered right to a set of stairs that led upward to the outer offices that ringed the temple, and found the meeting room he wanted. His aged hand reached out and yanked a red silk rope, Around the many offices where the Heavensent worked, the highest of the Starwatcher priests would hear and join him shortly. He took his place around a circular table, and one by one the thirty joined him.

They were dressed as he was, and walked as he did, slowly, deliberately, bound in the white garb of the Questioners, there was no rushing.

They sat in chairs that were wide enough to accommodate their thick bodies and thicker clothing, and when all were ready, Malefacorum spoke. “I went to the House of Aiwenor about the issue of heresy. It did not go well.”

He did not give them time to ask, droning on until his conclusion, “Now that we know she intends to stay, we have two choices, bring her into the fold, or act against her if she refuses. Of course with her venture into the Beastmen Empire of the Tlalmok, we might have to do nothing at all…” He shrugged, “Still her slaves seem confident of her return.”

“Strange,” a reedy voice answered, “It isn’t unheard of for slaves to be confident in the abilities of their lords, but to hear you tell it, the risk of heresy there is very high. Slaves who do anything but accept their fates are dangerous to the order we have nurtured for centuries. Even if she won’t convert, she needs to understand how and why things work as they do here. What do you propose to do about that Malefacorum?”

“Her reputation is that of someone blunt, so, I say we do that. We approach her in a way that she will understand, a way she will respect. Invite her to the temple, let her look upon the stars that have guided us, and let us talk to her honestly. Sometimes the way to win the game is not to play. I believe, based on what the former Lady Kaiji said of her temperament, that anything else will be seen as either a threat or an insult, and we are not prepared for the disturbance she would create as a result of either.” The discussion went on for some time, with Malefacorum being peppered with questions about the small details, behaviors, and observations great and small along the way. It went on until silence returned, then he folded his hands together, “Let us vote. Shadow, war, or handshake, how do we approach the Duchessa?”

He then reached beneath the table and drew out a small clay pot, and slip of paper with the voting options on it. He tore his free and dropped it within. It fell from his fingers with a dainty flutter to come to its rest at the bottom. He then passed it to his left, and waited for the decision to come back to him for counting.

When the letter was written, Nua was shown to a cottage, it had a few beds, a table of the same rough cut wood and the long half log benches that seemed popular in the area. It had a few basic kitchen supplies and a small basket of donated food items. What it did not have, was Sobella. When Nua found herself alone, she spoke up to her escort. “And… where is my charge?” Nua calmly laid a hand on the hilt of her blade and eyed the young man to lead her to the little house, with deadly intent.

He gave a nervous smirk and tapped his left ear with his index finger. Nua flicked her ear a little, and caught the cries of a familiar voice in the midst of sexual bliss. “She has… availed herself of the hospitality of some of our more vigorous residents. Of course you are welcome to join her if you like, she did say you were welcome…” He trailed off when Nua rubbed her temple.

“Pasenians… I swear to the gods I used to believe in, and the one I now do… I will never get used to your habits.” Had she used a different tone, it might have been taken as an insult, as it was, her exasperation was too clearly filled with a certain amusement. “Thank you, young man, but I believe I will pass on the offer. Pas’en is a vigorous place, but my own people are not so free about these things.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” He inclined his head politely and backed away from the entrance.

“Oh,” Nua said, turning to face him again as she went toward a bed, “Please ask her to wash up before coming back, I have a… sensitive nose.” Nua tapped her nose a few times with her index finger, and the young man burst out into a vigorous laugh.

“I will pass that along when ah… the time comes, My Lady.” He bowed once more, closed the door, and left Nua to herself.

“Ugh, this is why I can’t have Pas’en as my capital. God knows they’d probably start demanding royal orgies or something. Perverts from villager to viscount and consort.” Nua rolled her eyes, stripped, and flopped herself down onto her mattress. To her surprise, it was more than simple straw. ‘For escorts… right… they must host them often, it’s a small thing, but it is what they can do, that tiny bit of extra comfort for those who will die.’ Nua stared up into the dark of night and at the simple thatched roof over her head. She let out a yawn as the long period with little to no sleep finally began to take its toll. The yawn stretched out interminably, or so it seemed, and when it faded and her eyes began to close, she murmured out, “They may be perverts… but they’re good people too.”

She then yawned once more, and drifted off to sleep.

Nua heard the door creak as it opened, but didn’t open her eyes, she didn’t even change the pace of her breathing. While she smelled alcohol on the entry, and the sound of footfalls told her it was a single person, light weight, the steps did not go immediately to another bed.

Instead, she heard Sobella come to a stop a few feet from the foot of her bed. Nua continued her quiet breathing while the intoxicated woman stood there a few paces from Nua’s feet.

“A mistress of thousands, wealth, and you sleep there ready to risk yourself to get me safely to my final rest, and give me vengeance for it too. But you refuse to share bliss with me? What strange people you westerners are…” She hiccupped briefly, then staggered over to another nearby bed, and promptly fell to snoring in it.

Nua awoke before the sun did, and left her charge to sleep a while longer, leaving the little house to tend to their water skins, prepare their supplies, ensure the horse was fed one more time, and to request a cooked meal from the chief’s wife to start the day.

“My head hurts.” That was what Sobella said when Nua finally did go to shake her companion awake.

“And you smell like a tavern. And not an expensive one.” Nua said in a dry tone with a smirk on her face. “You evidently had a very good time last night.”

Sobella stretched out languidly, a sensual, satisfied smile on her face, her arms out past her head, stretched out all the way to the toes, she gave a slow, satisfied nod. “Oh yes, the young men… and women of this village have had a lot of practice making the last day in our lands a good one. They have lots of endurance, and are very, very enthusiastic.”

“I’ll take your word for it…” Nua replied and held out a bowl with a biscuit, some eggs, and bits of sausage.

Sobella wolfed it down gratefully saying as she did so, “And as to the cheap tavern, well… it is a village, you can’t expect the best stuff here. A girl’s gotta make do, you know?” She winked a solid red eye playfully and then, as if the knowledge of everything to come hit her again, her happiness and satisfied state evaporated like a shallow puddle on a hot summer day.

“We’d best be going, even when we cross the border… it’s a long trip and I understand we have an expected arrival date.” Nua tried to keep her voice professional and calm at the sudden shudder and shutdown mental state of her companion.

The bowl in Sobella’s hand wobbled as her fingers shook and fear began to replace the comfort of her prior hours. Nua took it and set it aside, “I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die…” Sobella shivered and drew her legs up into her chest. “Last night, it felt so good, I don’t want to leave this world, why did this have to happen, why… why… why do we have to live in this kind of cursed hell…? Why did the stars decide this fate for me… why didn’t Rasgen… I don’t know, ‘something’ anything…”

Nua recalled the wails of slaves and the hatred by humans that saw her people culled for meat in the starving time, and Sobella’s face was a mirror of that despair. Try as she might, try as hard as she did, Nua could think of nothing comforting to say.

So she didn’t, she reached out and snatched Sobella’s hand firmly. “I have no idea… I wish I did, but I don’t… all I know is that if I don’t get you there, everything you love will die, then you will too.” There was no compromise in Nua’s voice, and when she pulled, the vastly weaker Sobella had no choice but to throw her legs down to stand up and avoid falling from the bed.

“Th-this was the first of the two reasons I wanted you to be the one to come with me… because you’ll do your job, without any pity for me… which is what is supposed to happen. I’m not a coward, I don’t think… but…” Sobella’s voice broke she moved closer to Nua, and she held the wood elf assassin’s arms a little more tightly, “but my courage is running short. I don’t know if I can do this. Don’t let me quit, even if you have to knock me out, tie me up, and drag me. Help me… please… Nua.”

Nua shook her head and gave a soft embrace to the woman, “Sobella, you’re wrong, I’m not without pity, I’m not a monster to feel nothing for you or those you leave behind. I’ll do this because it has to be done. But I’ll act on it regardless of pity. Share my strength as long as you need it, and I’ll carry you to your revenge.” Nua lowered a kiss to the smaller demon elf’s dark purple forehead. There was nothing romantic about it, nothing of desire, but she felt the woman’s longing for touch, and answered to it.

“Now come on, take my arm, and let’s go get on the horse, I can ride slow for a little while, the sun is just rising, so we’re ahead of where we need to be for today at least.”

Sobella did as Nua said, and let Nua’s arm support her. They walked out of the village’s ‘guest home’ of sorts, to where Nua had their horse waiting for them. The dirt crunched under their feet and the light breeze kissed their hair behind them as if it was encouraging them to go the only way they could. The sun’s early hours bathed the world they knew with a faint red hue on the distant horizon, and alone but for the horse and the chirping of birds, they mounted up and began to ride.

They trotted off on the horse, heading off toward the western border and the first checkpoint.

Sobella’s arms were tightly wrapped around her guardian, Nua made no objection when they wandered, none of it felt like interest, more like…’reassurance’. Nua thought and so she chose to answer what wasn’t asked.

“It will be fine, at least as far as it can be.” Nua said in a calm, even voice, “I won’t let any harm come to you. I do know they like ‘provocation’ that will justify some invasion or expedition, making you dance on diplomatic eggshells is an old game. A very old game that predators everywhere like to play.”

“The beastmen are a problem so far west…?” Sobella asked with a sad sort of empathy, only to be surprised when Nua gave a loud and half embittered laugh.

“By god no. The last beastman invasion to drive west was utterly annihilated… oh my… almost twenty years ago. The Beastman Kingdom there submitted to the faith of the Dark Savior some fourteen years ago, give or take, and they are quite devout under King Rargnan.”*

“Your… Dark Savior did that?” Sobella asked with wonder in every word.

“No, as far as I know, she was uninvolved, it was before her rise, it was our god himself, acting at the plea of a neighbor nation. I don’t know much about what happened in that part of the world though. I was living far away at the time.” Nua shrugged the matter off, but Sobella’s interest went unwanted.

“So… there really is hope for my people then? That there be an end to our nightmares? You weren’t just feeding us stories?” Sobella asked, prompting to her surprise, another laugh from her guardian.

“Sobella, did any of you ever ask Prince Sado what his plans were? Long term?” Nua asked with a curious tone.

“Not really, everybody knew Sado was a dreamer. You have to understand, most of the Princes grew up together in one way or another, their fathers or grandfathers introduced their children to one another, not just of the great cities, but the small ones. To hear Prince Rasgen tell it, Sado was always as big a dreamer as he was a great warrior. He was driven by ideals more than duties. So when he started all his crazy talk…” Sobella fell quiet, Nua smiled as the clues began to click.

“You didn’t wonder why I could read your language when I got here? How I knew who you all were before we met? How I knew something as obscure as the name of your most famous conductor, and how to find my way around the city? How I adapted so well to so many of your customs?”

“Sado’s story, Prince Rasgen remarked on it, the story about a scholar who traveled west. He was trying to track the man down but… last I heard, he’d moved out of the city.” Sobella’s voice began to shake as one understanding bled into the next.

Nua gave a sharp nod. “Right, he was my teacher, hired at great expense, he stayed with me for years, and still missed a few things. I’ll admit I’m a little annoyed about that… but it can’t be helped. Anyway, yes, he came at my behest and left when he was done. My slave spoke to me of his plans to reach out to my god, perhaps through the demon of the west and call for a common alliance. I admit…” Nua’s voice was somewhat begrudging in its admiration, and she nodded almost without thinking, “It is bold. Fitting, for a man like Sado. I wonder, if you’d all done as he wished, would he have been successful?”

Sobella didn’t answer directly, instead she asked, “What do you think?”

Nua chewed on her lips while she thought the question over, “Maybe? I heard a story once that my divine lord once rendered immediate aid to a nation precisely because one of the delegation offered her head if the urgent plea in contradiction to himself was displeasing. He was evidently moved by the spirit of the offer. So… if Sado had gone west and done that? Maybe. Maybe.” Nua shrugged.

“I see…” Sobella whispered, “Then… that means two things, and I don’t know which is worse.”

“Oh? What might that be?” Nua asked with interest, glancing back over her shoulder.

“It means… it means that all our cities might have passed up our salvation for nothing. But… it also means… it means that the war that destroyed Komestra, was ultimately your fault.” Sobella squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Nua however, could only utter the reply of, “I suppose, in a manner of speaking, you’re right.”

It was the casual way in which Nua uttered the acknowledgement, that froze Sobella’s blood in her veins.