Saelil's bright red eyes roved over the badly damaged corpses before her. She could not forget their features if she tried. Despite their hideous wounds, several delivered to the head and face, she easily determined that these were the hateful creatures who presumed to steal her away.

The elf girl nodded her head slowly, a haunted look in her eyes. "These three creatures are indeed the ones who held me captive."

"Thank you, Lady Lothuialeth," said the guard captain. "We will process the final paperwork and dispose of their corpses so that your nigh—"

"Give them to me," said Saelil, her gaze hardening until her eyes appeared like two malevolent shining rubies.

"Give them to you, my lady?" asked the captain nervously. "By that do you intend to reanimate them?"

Saelil never took her eyes from the corpses on the table, the largest one in particular. "I would hold them in bondage as they held me, yes."

"Necromancy of that type is frowned upon in this town, my lady," said the captain in a slow measured tone.

"We won't perform the ceremony here, good captain," said Isera in an almost flippant manner. However, she did not look at the man. Instead, she gazed proudly down at her little one. She was indeed a child of House Lothuialeth with a decision such as this one.

"Even so..." began the captain. His words trailed off and died in his throat as Saelil turned her baleful gaze toward him. The sight of child who bore such a terrifying visage made the grizzled veteran take an involuntary step back.

On the surface he knew that the town guard could handle the two dark elven ladies who stood before him, but on a deeper and more visceral level he knew that thought to be ridiculous. Everything about the two who stood before him bespoke power well beyond anything his command dealt with on a regular basis.

Saelil's gaze seemed to bore into his very soul as he spoke, "They will suffer as I have suffered."

He gestured toward the corpses with a wave of her hand. "These three creatures do not deserve the luxury of death. They will know what it is to spend an eternity alone in the dark, held in place by inescapable chains placed upon them by a cruel and uncaring master."

Isera gasped slightly then clapped her hands together. Joyful tears formed along the edges of her eyes then slid down happily.

"Oh child," she said before looking toward Blackthorne, a certain sparkle in her eyes. "Dearest, doesn't our beloved daughter make your heart fill with pride. We are quite fortunate to have such a remarkable child?"

Saelil glanced at her mother then snorted derisively. "He is mine, mother. Not yours."

Blackthorne grunted once and then went silent. This was not a time for him to deny things that he had denied many times before. "So, those three are the ones who kidnapped you?"

"I cannot be certain of that, but they are indeed the foul creatures who routinely came to torment me each night," admitted Saelil.

He nodded then looked to the captain. "What do you normally do with the bodies of bandits and people such as these?"

The captain inclined his head briefly then said, "In all honesty they aren't allowed to be buried in the town cemetery, and we are loathe to pay for cremation."

"So, then what do you do with them?" pressed Blackthorne. Briefly he wondered if everyone in this world enjoyed skirting the issue with unnecessary statements. Beating around the bush was an art form, in this place. Perhaps there was even a skill for it!

"There is an old cemetery half a day's walk north of town. It is a place of great evil where the unwanted dead rise up of their own accord," said the Captain.

"Wait," said Blackthorne. "You mean you have issues with necromancy but you allow bandits and kidnappers to become undead?"

The captain shrugged. "It's the law here. We can't bury them in hallowed ground, nor do we wish to pay for their cremation. Instead we send a detachment out to the forsaken graveyard and bury them there. They don't always rise again, but if we do it is just considered divine punishment for their wickedness."

"Folks around here don't care for necromancers since they expect they secretly want to dig up their relatives and make them into servants," said the captain. He scratched his chin lightly then continued, "Even so, there aren't many who care if a bandit comes back as a zombie of their own accord. At least, they don't care unless those zombies wander toward town."

"How often does that happen?" asked Blackthorne.

"Zombies wandering into town?" asked the captain.

"Uh, yeah," replied Blackthorne intelligently. What else would he have been asking about?

"Once or twice every few years. Even then it's only a straggler. Most folks try to claim the zombie hates the living, or they become self-aware once more and want to die again in a place where their souls can be set free," said the captain.

"Is that the case?" asked Blackthorne.

"Actually, t's the opinion of the town guard that they sometimes chase after travelers who were in the area and get lost on their way back to the graveyard," said the captain. "We've seen them wandering back in that direction before.

"Isn't it dangerous to just let them wander around like that?" asked Blackthorne. "What if they mass together and attack the town?"

"There are never really that many of them at any given time. They sort of rise up, stay up for a while, and then collapse," said the captain. He glanced surreptitiously at the two elves then back to Blackthorne. "Only times they have ever massed for an attack is when some necromancer or other gets it in their head to claim them and march on the town."

"Give me what is mine and there will be three fewer walking corpses for you to deal with in the future," said Saelil in a calm, measured, tone of voice.

"That is..." said the captain his words trailing off.

Blackthorne noted the hesitance in the captain's demeanor. He obviously cared little for the dead men, but cared greatly for the people of the town and their opinion of his decisions. There was a simple solution to his problem, however. "Why not do what you normally do? Just go toss the corpses out at the graveyard and Saelil can just pick them up there."

The captain's eyes widened slightly, a hint of hope seeming to solidify in his expression. "If that would be fine there is no problem. Once the corpses are dropped off, no one really cares about what happens to them... provided they never return to this town."

Blackthorne looked to Saelil. "Is that fine with you?"

"Indeed, beloved. Though, I would place a seal upon them so that they are not corrupted by lesser influences," said Saelil.

"Couldn't have some silly graveyard make inferior children, eh?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Correct," said Saelil.

The matter settled, there was nothing left to do but to say their farewells. Outside the city walls, Blackthorne watched as the guards in charge of officiously dumping the corpses drove a cart northward toward their destination.

It was not long until Isera held her hand aloft and cried out, "Return to your mistress, my child."

A few minutes later, a shrieked split the air as a rapidly growing dot soon because a large bird. That bird revealed itself to be something straight out of legend.

"A gryphon?" asked Blackthorne incredulously. "Those are really a thing?"

Saelil looked to him despite the fact that her eyes were once again covered. A slight smile formed on her lips. "It is indeed fortunate that you are pretty, beloved."

"Pretty? Me?" he asked her, once again incredulous.

"In your own particular manner, yes," said Saelil.

"Gee, thanks," he replied a slight laugh bubbling up inside.

Isera greeted her flying mount with a gentle pat on the beak and a cooing noise. The gryphon responded with a playful nudged of its head against her hand then eyed Saelil. Its massive tail began to wag, it was like it thought itself to be more of a dog than the lion it seemed to be.

Once preparations were made, Saelil stood before Scott her tiny foot lightly tracing its way back and forth in the dirt beneath her. "Beloved. You should come with me... Is what I would like to say."

He offered her a smile then knelt down and placed his hand atop her head. Despite her sudden protest, he rapidly mussed her hair then said, "In some ways I am."

She stomped her foot at him then tried to smooth down her hair once more. "It is not the same... Why must you be a dreamer?"

The biggest issue with his travel to other worlds was the concern that they knew not what would happen if he left this world by means other than his current soul transmigration. It might kill him, or cause the occurrence some other issue should the systems in charge of such things not work properly.

"You take care of yourself, and your mother," he told her lightly. "Promise me that?"

Saelil nodded mutely then crossed her little arms over her chest. "Beloved..."

The posture she struck was as a familiar one. Despite being from different species and much different worlds, it seemed that shy little girls often held the same pose. He took a risk and did what he used to do when his sister stood nervously before him in that fashion. Blackthorne reached out and pulled Saelil into a tender embrace.

Saelil gasped gently, her face turning quite red. "B-beloved...?" she questioned.

This time it was his turn to tear up a little as she croaked out, "You promise me that you'll take care of yourself and your mother, alright?"

"Yes..." she whispered softly. After a briefly awkward moment she relaxed into his grip and hugged him back.

Isera watched the heart-warming scene for quite some time, a slight smile on her lips. Eventually they broke apart and the formerly dark and mysterious man wiped at his eyes a little. Such weakness would normally cause her to lose respect for a man, but something about Blackthorne tearfully embracing her little one caused a stirring of a different emotion inside of her.

She walked over to him then held her arms open. "I've made a promise as well, dearest."

Blackthorne looked at her for a moment then sighed loudly. "Fine. Come here..."

"So commanding," she said, her eyes aflame and a mischievous smile upon her lips.

He held Isera in a friendly and familial embrace for a moment as well. Surprisingly, her cheeks also reddened, though the most surprising thing of all was what she whispered into his ear.

"You should come with me, dearest," she whispered in a soft husky voice.

"Weren't you the one who said it could have serious consequences if I left this world with you?" he asked her in a quiet voice that was just above a whisper.

"Hmm?" she asked gently. She wiggled against him a little then laughed sweetly. "Who said anything about world travel?"

"What else would you have mean—" His eyes widened slightly as her words registered in a new light. "Ah... Well..."

A cavalcade of hateful voices rose inside his mind as his thoughts turned to lewdness. He was scum, disgusting, a thing that should be set on fire and allowed to burn itself to ash.

His inner voices were scandalized the moment she pressed her lips hotly to his. She managed to finish her ambush before they could become coherent once more, and withdrew from his arms. "Let that be a lesson to you, dearest."

"Mother..." growled Saelil.

The voices inside Blackthorne's head returned full-force after a brief interlude. The chastised him and spoke of some of the most vile and hateful things. It took a great deal of will power not to clutch the side of his head and close tight his eyes.

"Now, now, little one. Mother must reward your father properly," said Isera.

Saelil's growl returned once more, and this time in greater volume. Her face reddened once more and she heatedly pronounced, "He is mine!"

Blackthorne hated to see them go, but the voices in his head made him desperately wish that they would just leave. He gritted his teeth and took a cleansing breath. The world around him began to fade away as the voices became more insistent. Thankfully for him, no one noticed but the gryphon. The majestic beast looked at him for a moment as though it had seen him for the first time.

Suddenly its eyes widened and it squawked loudly. It flapped its mighty wings and back-peddled away from Blackthorne's position as though it had seen something terrifying.

Neither of the elves noticed the reason, but instead began to chastise the poor gryphon. The beast turned its head away from Blackthorne then slowly lowered its eyes toward the ground and gazed only at the dirt.

"What's gotten into you, you great squawking thing?" asked Isera as she petted and cooed at her pet.

The voices in his head intensified. Blackthorne was forced to close his eyes in order to exert as much effort as possible toward silencing them.

The gryphon squawked again then lowered itself to the ground completely. It scurried backwards on its belly like it was absolutely terrified of something that only it could see.

Blackthorne opened his eyes after a short time passed. He won a small victory over his own traitorous mind. By the time he was able to take stock of the world around him once more the gryphon returned to a calm demeanor as well.

"My apologies for the family pet, beloved," said Saelil to Blackthorne once they managed to calm the beast. He merely nodded quickly.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him. "Why do you not answer?"

"Ah, sorry. I keep forgetting that you have blinders on," said Blackthorne in a tired voice.

"You seem paler than before, are you certain that you are well?" asked Isera, a hint of concern in her voice.

"I probably just need a little rest. I've been in this world for a few days now," he said simply.

"I have caused you trouble, after all," said Saelil a slight frown forming on her lips.

"Not at all, I planned to be here for most of that time anyway," he confided in her.

"I see... If that is the case, then I thank you once again for all that you have done for me, beloved," said Saelil.

He nodded to her then offered a tentative smile. "I'm glad that I was able to help you."

The trio bid their last goodbyes. Saelil and her mother climbed onto the saddle of the great beast and they took off toward the north in search of three dead kidnappers. There was a special sort of justice in mind for them.

The voices began to die away with each passing second as Saelil and her mother became but a speck of darkness in the distance. Still, they had sapped much of his mental strength in the process. His dream body could certainly use a nap. His only hope was that the mental fatigue did not somehow carry over to his real one. He needed to go to work soon, much as he hated the very idea of it.