I look up, into Emily's eyes, wondering slightly at her last moment burst of cooperativeness. She has regained her color to some degree and is meeting my gaze in that same defiant fashion, her earlier fear forgotten – or maybe just suppressed. Annoyance bubbles up in me for a moment, but then I turn away, for now, I don't care. For now, I'm just tired. I wander a half dozen steps away, heat blooming out from me, vaporizing the muck in my path while my senses are turned elsewhere – sensing the grand magic beneath my feet that is being slowly distorted. When I stop, my feet have taken me nearly back to the door we entered through, to an adjacent wall upon which a gruesome tapestry has been pinned.

Probably the only victory I managed to pry from this place, I think morosely. Looking up at it – pinned there by a hail of spears – doesn't make me feel any better though, not even the grim sort of satisfaction you might get from a just punishment finally being meted out. It was little better than the worm that killed it, just another candle snuffed as I passed by, hardly worthy of notice or mention. Already the name that was attached to its scarred face escapes me.

“Amazing! You did it Lady Alexandria! Shadfer is once more in your debt.” Gordan's voice babbles idiotically behind me.

“No.” The word escapes me before I have time to call it back. Exhaustion taking its toll no doubt. There was this method too wasn't there? I wonder if its possible for me to work hard enough to force myself to sleep? …Obviously not I suppose. All working does is create this feeling of mental exhaustion, physically I am as perfect as ever – what a truly worthless thing.

“No?” Gordan repeats, the smile dying from his voice.

Casting a backwards glance I see that the humans have gathered, the adventurers, the priest, the warriors, the small ones, all standing around in this room that reeks of death and corruption – ready to proclaim victory?

“The seal was broken, the damage is done. Not as thoroughly as the beast intended, but done nonetheless.” I clarify, my eyes tracing the puddles of corrupted liquid that still dot the entire room – many of those puddles draining into holes drilled into the floor by spears. At those words the light atmosphere disappears, faces twist into frowns, and the humans exchange uncomfortable glances.

Gorim turns to the elderly priest. “Is tha' right old man?”

The old priest is leaning heavily on his staff – a strange thing carved and ornamented with a number of seemingly entirely decorative runes and capped with a tiny replica of a forge that dangles on a chain that runs between the two forks of wood atop the staff. He just wheezes by way of reply for a moment, catching his breath.

“Maybe.” He finally manages. “It might yet be possible to purify the lower chamber but I haven't the strength. My acolytes and priests are all dead I fear. The beast's approach was too quick for us to mount a proper defense and many paid the ultimate price... now there are none left but I who can wield Krin's might to protect this place.”

“If it's power ya need, we have that don't we?” Gorim glances to Sheryl as he speaks.

“No.” I speak again, surprising even myself with my forthrightness – compelled by frustration perhaps. “The magic below is grand – but delicate – even now it is being twisted and tainted by the smallest brushes with the corruption. Repairing it is impossible, it would have to be remade – the tainted components cut free and discarded, a task I suspect no one in this city could undertake with any degree of success.”

“Not even you?” Emily responds, challenging, or maybe just curious. I start to round on her, glaring, but the fire dies in me before I can bring it to bear – resulting in a limp glance in her direction.

“I've done what I can. Averted the worst case scenario wherein the corruption is forcibly introduced to every inch of ground for hundreds of miles. But the magic below is unfamiliar, amateurish, and above all constructed entirely with holy energy – not something I have any hope or desire to recreate.” I wave my left arm, still somewhat numb and slightly itchy, only able to feel the remnants of my own magic on my skin. “However the beast is dead, and I purged its presence from this place briefly, there might still be time – if there are any among the humans capable of making the repairs.”

I pause, a feeling of dejection seeping through me. Today has been entirely counterproductive…

“The Well is ancient, its construction solid. How… how can you know that it cannot be purified?” The old man wheezes at me.

I spare him a contemptuous glare. “Because I can feel it you decrepit human, feel the corruption seeping in – integrating with and undoing the magic. That you cannot discern that much with your own powers of perception is somewhat astonishing.”

“Enough.” Gorim's gravelly rasp rings out, as he steps forward, towering over the both of us. “Ain't no worth in bickering. Forgemaster, with me. We'll go report to tha Duke, he can decide our course. Might be he can rustle someone up, lot o' powerful folk in Shadfer tonight. The Well has been a pillar of the duchy for hunnreds o' years, it'll hafta manage a bit longer till we can get someone here to fix it. Sher, you stay here – I'll send whatever louts I find up to help with the defendin' – but it's on you to make sure this don't get no worse.”

“Yes, of course. So long as the Unbound haven't migrated en masse from the Lows that shouldn't be an issue.” Sheryl responds.

“What of the children…?” The priest – the “Forgemaster” – asks.

“I can take them with me to Legion Headquarters, the fort will have spare bunks tonight of all nights.” Gordan offers. “Regis needs to be informed of what has happened here, we need soldiers defending this 'Well' and he will have them. Though a part of me wonders if he doesn't already know… So many have already died in defense of this temple, I can't imagine he will remain ignorant for long.”

“And I will be leaving. I can't stand the stench of this place.” I declare, drawing a few trepidatious glances. “Returning to the manor.” I clarify, snuffing the green light bathing the room, before turning to leave. The humans – suddenly blind in the darkened temple – cringe and cower, hearing something in my tone perhaps, and no one moves to stop me.

“Are you not… going with her?” I hear an apprehensive Gordan whisper behind me. A long silence is the only response.

But I put that out of my mind. My purpose here has been completed for better or worse. There are no more corrupted monsters of comparable strength within the city, so the humans should be able to handle the rest. Grinding my teeth I exit the temple. For things to go so poorly… Its unbelievable really. This is why you leave servant work to servants, let them experience this irritating gnaw of disappointment, of plans failing to come together. After I went and personally…

Sighing I just let my feet carry me away, through the deserted streets of the Uppers, not mindful of direction – just seeking to put some distance between me and the temple. The city below is lively, in stark contrast to these shut and shuttered buildings of the Upper District, I can see frenetic activity in the Lows. Torches and bonfires spread liberally throughout, the occasional burst of spellfire illuminating the night, a hive of humans working to eradicate the corruption that tugs at the edges of my consciousness – making themselves useful at least.

And once in the distance I see a flare of green flame, exploding from the sky before getting lost from my sight in the mire of the Lows. A smile tugs at my lips. At least Pink seems to be performing her role admirably. With an idle flap of my wings I take to the sky briefly, immediately alighting atop a nearby building, lightly sitting on the sloped roof that overlooks the city below. I've passed a few “manors” and am forced to admit finding the one I'm looking for is beyond my abilities. I could fashion a spell I suppose, but I have already exerted and overexerted myself a dozen times over today.

So I just sit and watch, as the night grows longer, eyes following the energetic exertions of my two more useful servants from afar. Occasionally able to pick out fleeting glimpses of distant winged figures wielding green fire from my perch. A terrible waste of time, obviously, what is the point of delegating a task you intend to supervise? But as the major sources of corruption have been dealt with, alongside my spectacular failure to protect the massive glowing weak point in the middle of this city – despite touching a worm – a creep of apathy has begun to wash over me.

Not that I care, particularly, about the humans. About their “Well”. About the idiot girl who refuses to move as I want her to, despite my personal ministrations. None of it matters, when you get down to it. But it leaves a foul taste to be met with anything but overwhelming victory. A worm bested me, by Kaos, even if it was by the thinnest of margins and borne of a moment of …playfulness for lack of a better word – and a moment of hesitation – that it happened at all… the situation is absurd to a staggering degree.

I hold out my left arm, fingers splayed wide, as if to grab the city below. Tracing my fingertips with my eyes causes a confusing rush of emotion to swell in me. They are my fingers, as they have always been, pale and slender in the moonlight, each impossibly perfect nail a light seashell pink color – but tonight, one of them is marred, ever so slightly. A hairline crack runs through the nail of my index finger, as if the color were painted and cracking. A souvenir of my time with the worm no doubt. A small reminder of my own mortality.

I can feel a scream building, something like rage, something like hate, something like fear, rushing through me. My body is perfect. Objectively so. An impossible, ephemeral beauty that lasts forever. I don't age, I don't require sustenance, my body is the perfect reflection of the highest standard of beauty and has been as such for years beyond counting… and today it is defaced. For nothing.

My fingers are trembling.

A powerful impulse is rising in me. The indignant and wounded part of me screams for action. For retribution. Against who…? Against them all! Every last wretch who failed to put themselves between the worm and I. My worthless servants, the useless humans, this whole city should just be buried under a lanDSLIDE OF FIRE AND FURY THE LIKES OF WHICH THIS WORLD HASN'T SEEN-

With effort. With great effort, I decouple myself from that emotional train of thought. Under my gaze, the crack smooths, disappears, as I forcefully circulate my mana to my extremities – accelerating the repair, regaining my perfection.

Behind me I hear an odd scrabbling noise, followed by the hollow thump of a boot meeting a slate rooftop. It seems I've been followed… I lean backward, craning my head up to look behind me, spotting out a figure standing with me on the roof. Her swaying yellow tail betrays her identity but, as if the whole universe is going out of its way to spite me, I can't make out her face – her entire upper body obscured by the curve of my own horn. Briefly I focus on the black curve of bone, a sigh escaping my lips, before I give up – flopping flat on my back, not trying to look at my visitor, just letting my eyes wander the stars above. Defeated for the moment, letting my newly regained apathy swallow me.

“Alexandria… what are you doing here?” Emily asks.

“What are you doing here? I thought you'd attached yourself to a brood of humans.” I fire back petulantly, ignoring her question.

She sighs and then sits down beside me.

“The kids weren't too fond of me once they were out of sight of the Grub – I'm too scary apparently.” She snorts. “Little Upper brats, bound for great things, doing their heavenly duty to Krin. Even if they were entrusted to the charge of the temple, that attitude isn't something that rubs out. Well maybe if you fed them like they feed the kids in the Lows, bread and water and beatings… After all they went through tonight though, maybe I should be a bit sympathetic …? Not that they need the sympathies of…” She pauses, her voice low.

“…someone scary like me.” She finishes lamely, her voice slightly choked.

In response I hold my tongue. I'm completely unable to fathom her complaints regarding her obviously improved physical form – and I don't feel persuading her one way or the other would be worth the effort, and right now I'm really not in the mood. She'd probably just run off in a huff again if I alluded to her new bodies self-evident superiority. Better to stay silent and just enjoy her proximity, which has slight dampening effect on the buzz of the corruption – which in turn smooths our the strange emotional peaks I've been experiencing. I could grab her hand or something to improve the effect, but for now I refrain.

“Normal girls can't do things like this after all…” Her voice is thick. I spare a sideward glance and see she has pulled free one of her black feathers – it gleams black and deadly in the moonlight, hardened and razor sharp.

“Nor can most demons, if that's any consolation. Much less fledglings whose lifespan can be measured in hours, you undeniably have talent.” I mutter before returning my eyes to the sky. In other circumstances my servants quick acquisition of rare body modification abilities would be something I could celebrate – internally at least – but as it is…

“Alexandria. Can I ask you something?” She asks if she can ask a question.

“Mmmm...” I make a noise, she can interpret it however she likes.

“I'm serious Alexandria. This is important.” Her voice is harder than I think I've heard it. So I tear my eyes from the stars – beautiful twinkling things – and focus on the woman at my side. For a moment we just look at each other, her serious yellow eyes boring down into mine.

“Why did you go to the Temple of Kirn?” She finally asks.

“Gordan lead me there, did he not? We followed the beast all the way to the temple.” I reply.

“But why did you go inside? Gordan was ready to leave was he not? Ready to run with his tail between his legs. What reason did you have to deny him?” She asks.

“What reason would I have to accommodate the fool?” I shoot back without thinking. “Wait – no… we went in because it was clear the beast was targeting the place. Because even outside the temple I caught a whiff of the seal within. Because it seemed important to you.” I expound a bit – unabashedly honest. I don't generally explain myself – to anyone – but right now, feeling a bit off balance, a part of me already calculating, I judge that this much is appropriate.

“But why? Why do any of those things matter to you?” The intensity of her glare is incredible as she asks that, as if she is determined to see any lie I might tell as it forms in my brain.

“Is it not obvious? The magic of that place is felt all throughout this land, without the seal obscuring it, I can feel it easily even from here. If that were to be corrupted, not damaged or unmade, but twisted and re-purposed – we would, right now, be standing knee-deep in a mire of corruption. Or lying in it, as the case may be.” I flop my arm around a bit in a vague gesture at the rooftop around us to emphasize my point.

“Because you want to save the world…” Emily breaths the words like a prayer, looking down at me.

“Right. Because I want to save the world.” I agree listlessly.

“Then why did you try to… burn those people? Why did you kill that man? Why did you not make the barest effort to protect the Forgemaster and his wards? Are humanity and the people of the Tribes not included, while you try to save the world?” She probes.

I don't answer immediately, as I gather my thoughts. Weighing the value I can perceive in the various responses I could give her. Deciding if I even want to continue this little dialogue, does it have that much worth? Eventually I come to a decision, to answer her at least mostly honestly.

“An interesting series of questions, each more tangentially related than the last – but I suppose I can spare the time to answer. I did not try to burn any humans this day – as I have already asserted you may recall. I did not protect any humans this day either, for much the same reasons, they are not creatures worth notice or consideration – generally speaking.

“Your final question is by far the more interesting because I do in fact believe the humans and beastkin to be important for what is to come. It is clear there is a balance that must be maintained, but unclear exactly whom that balance must be maintained between. Unclear where the lines need to be drawn. Perhaps returning the ratio of creatures that channel demonic energy and creatures that channel holy energy to the numbers seen a thousand years ago will be sufficient. But perhaps not. Perhaps humans, or elves, or beastkin are also an integral part of the equation. I don't currently know enough to say with certainty, so my aim is to preserve them all, even the wretched doves – until the problems that plague Karridor as a whole are resolved.” I speak, articulating things more clearly to this girl than to any other before her, because after considering it I judge that if I am to have her, at least this much is necessary.

“Haah.” She exhales, shaking her head. “Isn't it contradictory though Alexandria, to say you wish to 'preserve' us – but also refusing to grant our kind 'notice or consideration'?”

“No? Where is the contradiction Emily? It is not as if humanity is so close to the brink that a dozen humans here or there will have an effect on the overall health of the species.” I explain, meeting her eyes unblinkingly.

And the conversation grinds to a halt, as the two of us stare at one another in silence. Her face is quite lovely, moreso when the flashes of spellfire in the distance illuminate it, casting harsh and dangerous shadows across it, with our proximity I can't help but notice. Idiot thoughts like that swim across my mind, as I await her next words. Then some of the tension drains out of her, and her lovely face releases a dainty sigh.

"Have you heard of Sadi? Sadi of the River?" She spouts a complete non-sequitur.

I wonder if she's taken leave of her senses as I slowly shake my head.

“No, of course not. Sorry for asking something... Something like that. Anyway, I can't say you're wrong I guess – about contradictions. Thank you for answering Alexandria, I think I understand a bit better now…” Saying so she slowly stands up, turning away and looking out over the city. I also pull myself up into a prim sitting position, regaining some small measure of dignity.

“Is there some reason you decided against returning to the duke's manor Alexandria?” She lightly tosses out another question, the severity gone from her voice.

“Didn't see it on my way here. Searching for it properly seemed like too much work.” I murmur. "You seem much less angry Emily, did something happen?"

“Haha… What? You didn't see it? Isn't that it over there?” As the girl speaks she points toward one of the nearby large human dwellings, visible behind a gate and a long winding road that connects the building to the street, and indeed the crest on the gate of the property is vaguely familiar. “Gordan was proper distraught when you went off in the opposite direction of Clearwater Manor you know? So I was a bit surprised when I followed your... feeling? I'm not sure how I tracked you down honestly... Anyway I was surprised you were here, so close to the manor…" She pauses for a long moment before continuing.

"...my blood was up. It a, ah, 'racial characteristic' of the Tribe of Grace and Fang, or so Father Keller told me. Humans have a similar response to crisis' but for me it's ...prolonged. I won't apologize, but I wasn't at my most level-headed either." She mutters reluctantly.

I merely shrug, it was only idle curiosity that prompted me to ask. More interesting is how I managed to wander quite an impressive circle, in my little fit of annoyance.

“It's good it is close by I suppose. Pink does not require my supervision, so I will retire there for the night.” I say.

Then I rise to my feet and eye the cobbled street below for an instant – before leaping down. Reluctantly I flare my wings at the last moment before impact, catching my weight, so I don't leave a crater in the duke's road. Then I turn around, looking up expectantly at the pretty girl with the golden hair. She stands there, on the rooftop, her single wing making for a striking silhouette, backlit by a timely burst of spellfire from the city below – her expression impossible to make out. But she leaps down. She follows me.

And in my heart, I crack a tiny smile.

Her landing is smooth and graceful – catlike even – her powerful haunches silently absorbing the impact of the twenty odd foot fall. She pauses there a moment, crouched where she landed, before standing – turning a full faced smile in my direction.

“It's amazing, being able to walk – to run, to jump. I never thanked you. I thought…” Her voice trails off uncertainly. “Well I don't know what exactly I thought – I don't know what exactly I think – but thank you. Father Keller says you should always thank the kindness of strangers and while I'm not sure this is kindness…” She flares her wing as she speaks, doing a little twirl of her body as if she means to chase it. “Thank you.” She finishes by meeting my eyes dead on.

I reach up, patting her gently on one robed shoulder. “You needn't thank me child, t'was not a gift but a purchase. I'm glad to hear it brings you some measure of joy though.” I tell a saccharine lie and a shadow flickers across the taller girl's face. She peers down at me, looking into my eyes, but my smile is impenetrable.

She breaks the contact first, turning away and gesturing for me to follow. “I told Gordan I would at least try to get you back to the manor.” She admits. “So if you'd like…”

“Yes, please, lead on.” I murmur, slipping my hand into hers. She looks down at it, then up at me, her confusion evident. But I ignore that, just happy for the distraction brought on by the contact, apparently something not exclusive to Pink or cats. Eventually she returns a weak smile and leads me along by the hand.

The return to the manor is uneventful. Even gaining entrance is easy, the servants ask no questions, even seeing that my escort has changed, and the same stammering girl from before is conjured from somewhere to lead the two of us back to the chambers the duke is lending me. Emily's head swivels about nervously as we trek through the home of the most powerful human in the city – her apprehension incomprehensible but apparent.

When the maid guides the two of us back to my room, I'm slightly surprised to feel a bit happy, at being rejoined with this place. The overly eye-catching white furniture is less obnoxious now that I'm more used to it and the large chair in the center of the room almost seems to beckon me. It is no proper throne of course, but sufficient for lording over this room I think, even as I seperate myself from Emily and settle myself into it. Arching my body expertly into the old familiar pose, the one that when coupled with my flawless smile is entirely perfect for dealing with any and all interpersonal problems. Be them raging Demon Kings or meek supplicants, they are all equally cowed. Thus settled I glance around slightly expectantly – but sadly the small furry beast is nowhere to be seen.

“I suppose this doesn't surprise me at all.” The girl intones flatly.

I merely cock my head slightly in response. The silence spins out for only a moment before the girl speaks again.

“Alexandria I've made a decision.” Emily says, her voice heavy and thoughtful. “I will help you. Serve you, if you prefer.”

I lean forward slightly, meeting her gaze head on, my smile unbroken. And whatever she reads into that action causes her to continue.

“I don't agree with… a lot of things. I'm still afraid, more afraid even – compared to before we went into that temple. But I've realized a lot of things too.” A black dagger appears in her hand, as if by magic – a sleek black feather. “You've given me something amazing, something that allows me to stand on the same field as the Adventurer's Guildmaster and not feel as if I am dragging at his feet. The power to help people… Its so much – too much – its not something I've earned and I wonder why I had to be the one to receive it. Surely there are others? People would leap at this sort of opportunity, strong people, smart people, people far more capable than an orphan girl from the Lows…”

Her voice drifts away, her eyes fixed on the sleek black knife in her hand. I wait for her to continue, confident my complete disinterest in her tiny woes is concealed.

“But since it was me – I have something of a responsibility don't I? And ultimately I agree with your goals, its only your methods that need improvement. I think, that if you are willing to work with me, listen to my input, you could be the greatest force for good on Karridor!”

That cracks the facade somewhat, I can feel my eyes widening slightly in response to her absurdity.

“Emily, that is slightly beyond my stated goals.” I manage to croak, having regained myself somewhat and restrained my first impulse.

“But you are already doing good Alexandria! If you were just a bit more careful about it… if before acting you spared a second of thought for the people around you…” Her face twists into a thoughtful frown, the razor thin knife reversing itself in her fingers – showcasing a clever “hilt” somehow shaped into the plume. “I mean, tonight you killed that monster in the temple and the monster in the wood, clearly you are doing more good by yourself than half the Imperial Legion put together, if you would just mind the people at your side. Everyone fights the Unbound Alexandria! Are they not deserving of some recognition, some consideration, if only for our shared goal?”

No.

I don't say it aloud, of course, instead I just maintain my smile – even and unwavering. My mind races and I wonder what she expects from this …absurd …is it even a proposal? “Let's cooperate” is not something you tend to hear in demonic circles – relationships tend to be heavily one-sided in almost all cases, as this one is, and both parties tend to acknowledge that reality.

“Because I think, Alexandria, that you could be as dangerous to the Imperium – no… more than just the Imperium – to all the people of Karridor as the Unbound. Clearly you have that power, or something close to it. And your casual disregard for life, that you didn't even bother to hide tonight in the temple, it makes you seem dangerous! Maybe even as bad as the Unbound.” She says.

“But things turned out fairly well for all the humans immediately involved tonight, did they not?” I ask randomly, buying time, calming my racing thoughts.

“Because I was there! Protecting them! Many times people very nearly died – once because of your actions!” She retorts.

“Well, there's no problem then is there? So long as you are there. Here. At my side.” I manage, despite my frazzled mind.

“Yes, you're right. If I follow you, if I grow stronger, I might grow strong enough, strong enough to protect…” She pauses, regaining her train of thought. “But wouldn't it be better for all of us if you would meet me halfway on this? No one will be able to trust you if they're afraid you might kill them at any moment. Isn't that detrimental to saving the world? To your goals?”

Is it? Maybe? If the other party is in some way instrumental to my success, a lack of trust could be annoying. Slowly I feel I'm grasping the appropriate responses, the words that will take me through this conversation to somewhere advantageous – the words that might salvage something from this terrible day.

"This is a bit of a change of tune Emily." I narrow my eyes slightly, regarding her carefully. "I am a 'gods damned monster' am I not?" I ask.

"I've... I've seen things, since I said that. Had time to clear my head. Had a revelation, maybe. I think- I believe you could do great things." She says.

“Then… say I agree. You will agree to follow Pink and I, to see this through – until the very end, when the corruption is purged from our world?” I murmur, staring into the girls yellow slit eyes. “In exchange, I will agree to listen to your advice and attempt to spare the lives of the people working alongside us where possible?”

“Yes! You have to help people Alexandria, you just… I'll do anything, I promise. I know you're… I just... like the stories… I mean you, you and I..." She stutters, seeming to start to speak and stop a half dozen times. Until: "I'll trust you." She finishes

Such a radical shift. I don't quite understand. I've played my part correctly of course – but that doesn't account for this. Does it? But then, I have trouble understanding the tiny minds of inferior creatures, perhaps this is correct? If not ...what? This is a ploy? For what reason? My head hurts, just trying to make sense of my nonsensical servant's behavior. Whatever, if there is some issue, Pink can handle it.

“Then go, help Pink. I will remain here.” I try to send her away, tired of the conversation that has dragged on too long, testing her response.

“…Okay. But how will I find her?” She asks after a pause.

“Just… the same way you found me? The link that binds all of my Chosen ensures you will never lose track of one another.” I tell her.

“I can sense you through the link …no one else though.”

Sighing I gesture for her to come closer and after a brief hesitation she does. I reach up, grabbing the girl's chin, forcing her to meet my eyes, and begin to circulate my mana along the conduit that joins me to my Chosen. Attempting to use our immediate proximity to force some of the tactile sensation along the link and into her, the black brand on her forehead slowly comes alight – a line of green tracing along its edge.

She gasps. “I… I can feel them… Martin and Pink… And someone else? Another? Five? Six? What?” She jerks free of my grasp, looking back at me – wide eyed.

“Hmm. Well as I explained, all of my Chosen are bound by the Brand, it seems some yet survive.” I say absently.

I felt them too. The three I expected. The tattered and frayed remains of another link. And then three more on top of those, three unknown connections to Chosen demons. I feel a bit foolish, we've spent so long searching for other demons… In hindsight obviously the most hardy, resiliant, and thus likely to survive demons would be my Chosen would they not? I really should have tried searching them out this way sooner…

Well it matters little I suppose. We already have a plan. Adding ancient and powerful demons into the mix would do us no good at all I imagine. They're the type that typically require more than a few pretty words to be drawn into your camp – almost certainly more trouble than they're worth, since I never bothered properly lashing my Chosen to me. It's just too much work you know? “If I can control the Demon King directly that should be enough” – is what I always thought. Maybe that was naive…

No matter. The closest of my wayward Chosen – excluding the ones following me and Pestilence – is to the distant south, many hundreds of miles away. Pink can decide if we persue it, and if we decide not to it should be too far away to be of any concern.

“There are others then? Like me and Martin?” The girl asks.

“No. You two are unique. You needn't worry about wayward Chosen, clearly they are doing nothing of import.” I reassure her. “Now begone with you girl, I am exhausted.”

She looks like she wants to say more, ask more questions but seems to think better of it, just nodding.

“Then, I'll go help Pink for now. See you tomorrow Alexandria.” A strange tone is in her voice as slips out onto the balcony and disappears into the night. Like hope. I watch the empty space she disappeared into for a moment longer, my smile unbreakable. Another minute, just for good measure.

And then a massive sigh escapes me as I slump in my chair. Dealing with people… so much work… I suppose it's worth it, since I extracted a promise from the girl – not quite the binding sort of vow I would like, but a start. I wonder once more, for the hundredth time tonight, if she is worth this much effort… and as always I conclude that she is. The words I gave her cost me little, and she will be …quite formidable – considering she is one of the two people who are the closest thing in this world I have to childern, someone with strength borne directly of my flesh – much better to secure her cooperation now.

Besides her point of view is not entirely without merit, though I have long been estranged from the idea that there is some sort of intrinsic value to life, I'm not unfamiliar with the fact that it is a fairly common point of view among fools. And since I have resigned myself to walk among the fools, it can't hurt to gain some insight into their perspectives – for the novelty if nothing else.

“And you!” I speak to the empty room. “Leave this place. At once. If I catch you in here without my permission again I will end you human. My patience is entirely exhausted.” I snarl the words.

A second passes, and a flame springs to life in my palm, a bit of encouragement. It works like a charm and from a white armoire a smiling red-headed woman emerges. The “helpful” woman who warned me of the impending Celestial attack – Chelsea something. She bows low, even as she seems to scuttle backwards toward the balcony.

“A thousand pardons Lady Alexandria. Please forgive this unworthy one. I am deeply and truly sorry.” She speaks rapidly, bowing repeatedly. Then as she reaches the edge of the room she straightens up and flashes me a cheeky smile. “But you can't blame a Tarisian girl for wanting to sneak a few peeks at the most important person in the city tonight, right?”

And she's gone. Annoying woman… I consider doing something more – but find I really don't care. She's been trailing me for most of the night I think. But it probably doesn't matter. I have nothing to hide from insects. But maybe I should do something, just on principle? But really I have no need to worry about their opinions… But maybe… I brood on it for a long while. Until a yowl interrupts my train of thought, accompanied by a minute impact atop my head.

As I turn my eyes upward a small legs scrabbles against my face briefly for purchase, before disappearing above my sight line. A tiny weight has added itself to one of my horns. Reminds me a bit of old ceremonial battle garb that included armored plates that affixed over the horn… I stop trying to run away from reality after only a second of digression. Amazingly, the cat has at some point snuck back into the room and – for reasons know only to itself – leapt atop my head. My mind begins to whirl, deciding what needs to be done... But after a second I decide to just accept the things company.

“Fine.” I murmur to the empty room, leaning back in my chair.

And with the useful little beast's help I slip away, not to sleep of course, but into a somewhat more restful state – the night slipping away from me before I can blink.