Yordeen stared absently at the shards in front of her as her vessel slowly sunk more of itself into the confines of her chair. Sleep had finally claimed her, for three whole Rotations by the word of her Daughters. She didn’t remember any of it, one moment her eyes closed, the next she was in bed with Servants caring for her. The rest hadn’t improved her mood much, nor do it seem to take away any of the fatigue she was experiencing. Her vessel still called for rest, and she no longer had the will to fight its demands. Her Rotations have been cursed with one horror dream after the other every time she closed her eyes. Word should have spread to those above her about the state of one of their Archivists, how she couldn’t perform her Task efficiently anymore. Enough Messengers have seen her for at least one to mention it to the Anointed, and yet nothing changed, the shards keep on coming. Messengers keep harassing her for reports or ideas she may have to deal with the pests outside.

Outside, that had transformed into a mess beyond what she, and perhaps the Anointed themselves considered. The Beasts wasted no time with scouting from what she’s seen from the visions. Floods of them rushing through every tunnel, hundreds, maybe thousands at this point have been killed by Patrols, yet more continue to appear. They couldn’t even send Patrols outside anymore with the number of beasts lying in wait. Plus from what she’s seen there’s at least one Ancient guarding the Exits at all times. That alone has forced the Anointed to order the structuring of Hosts which normal would be sent to clear out Hives. Nothing less could push the Nightmare back, the horrors were already advancing on their mining zones.

It will be soon, the Flocks will be called to form, and the Sanctums will empty of all those unworthy to stay within these hallowed walls. She hoped it would be enough to push back the tide, or at least stall the Nightmares advance. Yordeen had no intentions of sending her sons out to fight, and that would be actually what would happen if the Flocks failed to keep the Nightmares back. The Anointed will send everything they can down upon their enemy if it means it will keep their mining operations secure. Even if they must send those above such lowly matters out to fight pests.

The clatter of a plate startled her from her thoughts, and slowly she turned her head to see one of her Daughters by her side. The poor dear looked troubled as she peered down at her.

“Archivist,” she said, “I’ve brought you food, you haven’t eaten in almost a Rotation.” The child began to place portions of steamed meat and vegetables on a small plate, then moved near to feed her. Yordeen was to tired and uncaring to protests as her child spoon feed her like some fresh newborn coming from a Changing.

“Thank you, dear.” Yordeen said, offering a small smile “No need to fret, I’ll be back in blessed health after some more rest.” Whenever that would come, she begged the Giver every Rotation for another dreamless sleep, but yet to received anything from it.

No she’ll likely only gain that gift the same way she claimed it the first time. Leaning forward she plucked a shard from the table and collapsed back into her seat. Her Daughter bowed and left her, the child rushing away, likely thinking she was about to ask her to help with viewing the shards. Yordeen was tempted but she already had enough cursed children whimpering.

Lazily she looked down at the shard in her hand, sighed, and closed her eyes as she connected. They reopened and she stood in the center of a Host that appeared to number near or over one Hundred. They were facing forward, their Taskmaster giving a speech, but Yordeen ignored it as she focused on the details around her. The Wards were red, and the Gate before them, it’s been a long time since she’d seen it this way. The people around her weren’t taking the change in lighting all that well, most were young, their channels dim. ‘A host made mainly of newborn? The Houses must already be moving to remove unwanted.’

It shouldn’t be a surprise, the Sanctums were all past due for a flock by now. Her Daughters claimed that the entrances into the Sanctum networks were starting to look like Settlements. Makeshift tents were spreading farther out into the networks every Rotation. There were children running about to, the unwanted and soulless beginning to multiply without supervision, nor the recourses to mature them into adults.

The Taskmaster screamed, or maybe bellowed a war cry, she wasn’t sure, but the Gate opened after he finished his speech. The view outside had her jaw clench before the Gate was half open Nightmares began pushing through the gap. They were stacked on top of each other, to the point the beasts covered the whole Gate. Wind howled and she watched the vermin go flying, only for another wall of the things to coming rushing forward. Their accursed screeching deafening out even the winds as they were smashed back again. But this time the Chant continued and grew as more Chanters added their souls to the framework. Slowly the Host marched forward, the newborn around her going pale the closer they got to the Gate. Many had closed themselves off into a trance or were pleading to the Giver. None of them were ready for this, she could see the Houses they belonged to had rushed their training. In truth, many were sent here to die more than the Worth this Task would bring.

Ascendants entered her view, as they hovered overhead, as of yet those manning them hadn’t joined in the assault on the horde. Instead, they rose higher, nearly pumping their heads on the ceiling as they tried peering past the Nightmares searching.

‘There to deal with the Ancient that is likely waiting outside’ She thought. It wasn’t a hard guess since those above them were older, their channels well defined, and the clothing they wore decorative compared to the standard fair those around her were wearing.

As she exited the Gate, the Molder of the shard looked up, the ceiling was alive like the rest of the cavern. All of the realm outside seemed to be a living creature now, wiggling limbs tipped with claws were everywhere. Each step she took was accompanied by the wet sensation of blood sinking in between her paws, the feeling had her real body shiver.

The lighting outside was rather dim, the plant life that would normally help with sight was gone, crushed underneath the horde. Light stones had been thrown into the chamber before they entered, and there are individuals caring some. But it still wasn’t near the abundance of light she was accustomed to, it made the vision before her even more troublesome to watch. She asked for the Giver to send a blessing to the newborn who took part in this Host, as it was clear the poor dears would have come out cursed from the sights they’d seen.

Her offering was disturbed when the ground shook, and Yordeen half expected to find an Ancient bursting through its surface. Instead things calmed as a multitude of Chanters sung to the stone, hardening it enough to keep the Nightmares away for some time. She watched her hands move, and a voice not her own hymned, pulling, with others waters towards them. A process made easier with most of the plant life dead around them. Water once done collecting over their heads, rushed off freezing midair and crushing Nightmares. The popping of shells sent a sickening note echoing about them, which continued as Chanters repeated the process. Every time a boulder of ice smashed against a wall, stone would fall away revealing a hive of activity underneath as more Nightmares poured from the newly opened passages.

Barriers were formed above them, forcing the Ascendance to hover low. All along the ceiling Carvers crawled, some throwing themselves from the ceiling crashing down on the shield. They were far larger than the Carvers Yordeen was used to seeing, most at least twice the size of what they should be. It wasn’t just that type either, all various breeds were larger now, shells thicker, claws longer, and sharper. She saw that some Grounders had grown another pair of arms or spiked appendages. Not that it did the beasts any good, no matter how large, the soulless would always be inferior. Though it did mean when the Flocks were sent the many Guards that would make up the bulk of the host would be less useful in the fight to retake the low realms. Maybe even worthless if the Anointed ignore her advice of actually equipping them with proper weapons and armor.

They moved forward at a steady pace, the Host taking and filling the cavern even with the hive before them. The ice and wind was doing a wonderful Task of repelling the beasts that throw themselves against the tide of souls. Then the moment she'd been waiting for came as the realm shook, and the air rippled. Nightmares parted revealing an Ancient that had been in the midst all along, hidden in the back under a blanket of its children. Ascendance acted immediately the chamber encompassed in light as the Giver presence was invoked and sent crashing into the Ancient before it had time to unleash its own morphed soul. The Multitude of beams shattered the beast, it remains falling backward, before being set alight by more incoming chants. The Nightmares went still, for a brief moment the room made of living beings appeared lifeless. Then as one, the beasts screamed at them, her ears rang in protests, perhaps evening bleeding from the volume, newborn clutched at their ears weeping. The Nightmares followed up with their war cry with them all charging at once. Pests from above began throwing themselves on top of the barriers, the ground underneath them began to quake once more.

The Taskmaster bellowed words, orders and the children acted the best they could, many in their number were newborn after all. The shielding above went red, melting the ever-increasing weight that was pressing against it. More soul was weaved into the ground, hardening it and forming spikes that punctured downward, killing anything that was near. Wind and ice daggers held the tide of the beasts ahead of them, and on occasion when they grew to close, the Givers wrath was let out long enough to dissolve the growing mass of enemies.

Even with the amount of soul they unleash upon the Nightmare it never once receded. It was impossible to tell how many of the creatures were killed, their bodies being dissolved into puddles on the floor, but she could guess. It didn’t bring her calm that the horde continued to swell even when hundreds were dying.

She forwarded time to double its speed, even then the Host was pushing the horde back painfully slow. A Host of a hundred or more Chanters wasn’t enough to clear out a hive at their Gate. Worse the momentum they had built stopped instantly as another Ancient appeared and she set time back to its normal speed. This one attacked without warning, its chant cutting through Nightmares before striking the front of the Group. Dozens died as the chant flowed over them, none protected under a Barrier. The only reason more of the Host wasn’t taken out, was the combined chants of winds, which slowed then stopped the twisted one. Still, after that surprise and the wound it inflicted, the Host went on the defensive. The winds and rains of ice stopped, as barriers wrapped around them. The horde surged unaffected by their Champion killing scores of them to land a blow.

Everyone focused on the barriers, hastily crafting one layer upon another, readying for the next strike from the Ancient to arrive. Already people began replenishing themselves with Hearts, at least those able. The newborn who spent themselves crumpled to the floor, none moved to help them as they tried to maintain the strained shielding that was being gnawed at from all sides. Then to her left something struck, the impact sent fractures running across a myriad of barriers. Then another hit, and another, the wounds inflicted spreading faster than they could be repaired.

That was enough, children lost their nerve and began retreating, even when the Taskmaster began screaming at them to turn around. Line after line moved back towards the Gate healing barriers the best they could in order to stall the inevitable. Even the Molder of the vision turned following the tide as people pushed past. The Taskmaster was forced to follow, or be left behind. They retreated back enough that the beast causing the fractures stopped for a few breaths as the shielding receded. People began acting on their own, triggering the tops layers to ignite, Nightmares screamed as their flesh bubbled off, but they continued their assault.

Then ahead of her, Yordeen caught sight of the foe attacking them. Nightmares were crushed against the barriers as a giant armored fist struck, cracks raced away from the impact zone. Another fist followed, and Yordeen studied the damage it was causing. From the few strikes she had seen, unless the next host they sent was over a hundred, defense was a wasted effort. The Ancient, that she’s yet to get a detailed look at, had to go first. Something those around her were coming to the same conclusion, people stopped fixing the location the Ancient was attacking. Instead people lined up arms raised, with the Ascendance overhead. They waited, and when the section of barrier broke, light bloomed.

By the end, there was a gaping hole in the Nightmares formation, nothing remained of the Ancient. But Yordeen knew the creature had died, the Nightmares screamed in furry, rushing towards them scrambling through the hole. Winds answered launching the rage blind beasts hurling back. Chanter’s hastily plugged the breach, weaving new layers and healing the old. A sense of order returned to the Host with the most glaring threat removed. Least that’s what they all thought before the shields were hammered again, from multiple sides. The blows were equal to the Ancient they had just slain, the hits sending shock waves across the framework. Barriers warped, cracked, and began to shatter, the host froze, then as one mind hurried back towards the Gate. She witnessed even the Taskmaster fleeing, all thought of completing their assigned Task thrown into the wind.

'A wise choice' Yordeen thought, as she heard barriers behind her fail and crumble under the continued blows. The Gate began to close even as people pushed their way through, the Taskmaster having completely lost himself to the madness of fear. People barely had enough time to get through before the Gate closed with a reassuring clap. The vision stopped, the last scenes were of people collapsing to the floor and crying into each other's arms.

Yordeen opened her eyes and flicked the shard in her grasp towards the vague location of the viewed pile. ‘So a host of a Hundred isn’t enough to secure a chamber?’ That got her ailing body to revive with life, the fear doing wonders to remove the aches from her limbs, her frame primed to run for its life. She took a calming breath ‘I’m within the embrace of a High Sanctum, far away and above such lowly matters.’ Her vessel was reluctant to hear her words of wisdom, taking its time to settle and remove the fear that claimed it. But eventual it calmed, her heart returning to a stable beat, only then when she was sure her frame was reasonable again did she lean over and grab a handful of shards.

The same scenes as before played, Hosts that were normally sent to remove hives, were unable to push back the horde. There were some that fared better than others, able to claim the exit chamber for a brief amount of time before the horde came back with a vengeance. Forcing already tired, and nearly spent Chanters to quickly flee back to the safety of the Wards. All hosts suffered casualties, one almost had been lost. But that particular one was mostly made of newborn, likely those in that Sanctum had been hoping the host would be consumed. ‘A waste, every lowly one will be needed.’ If the number of Nightmares remained or worse continue to increase, then the Anointed with be forced to raise an army to protect the mining networks.

Already she was pulling out an empty shard, filling it with advice. Namely for them to stop sending hosts out altogether. There was nothing to gain by throwing away lives, now that they had a good idea of the threat they’re facing. Better to keep the lowly within the Wards so they can be used to keep them charged. From the visions, all of the Sanctum networks were under attack or probing of some kind. Eventually, the Nightmares will work their way up to the point the Sanctums themselves will fall under assault. Yordeen was not looking forward to that, it’s happened before, long ago, back when Nightmares attacked any Warded surface they found. Most won’t remember, or too young to have been around to see it. So when the Wards begin to change, pulse on the outer layers of the dome, it won’t be long before a panic sets in. Not at first but once the Wards start sending the aura of death then things will get lively.

The Unwanted will grow restless, maybe even cursed by the sight, they’ll know instantly what will come next. Yordeen was extremely glad it wasn’t her Task to organize a Flock, she asked the Giver to bless those individuals, for they were going to need it. Unwanted were breeding madly like they always do, but the number of them has never gotten to this scale before. It was going to be a trying Task for all involved to round them up and get them moving in a cohesive fashion. Then training them, equipping them, and keep troublemakers in line.

She decided to add in the advice that the Anointed should start organizing the Flocks now, before the knowledge of the situation outside becomes commonly known. Normally it would have by now, but the cursed sights were helping to keep the truth from the masses. The messengers were wary of looking, especially with how cursed inducing her shards have become. Still, the information will get out, someone on high with enough Worth will offer the right individual the Task to find out.

She placed her shard down, and let her thoughts wander as she stayed at the lanterns hovering above. The swarm was reaching a point, if those on high failed to remove it, would earn the Elders attention. She shivered, if they got involved, were forced to because they all had failed to keep order. Many would soon find themselves at the front of Flocks sent to reclaim the realm below. They may even use it as an excuse to remove people they've grown ill with. Yordeen wondered if she in some way had angered someone so above her that they could send her crashing below, laying with the unwanted and soulless. She couldn’t think of any but that did little to ease her now fluttered heart.

Connecting with the shard one more time, she embedded that concern, with a warning that the Mining sites can’t be lost, that would be something the Elders would take offense to. Something that would gain their attention, and have them begin sending inquiries into affairs that Yordeen knew none in her position wanted them looking into.

With those final thoughts sent she rang the bell by her side. A servant hurried over when she noticed the noise. Bowing “What is it you require Archivist?”

“Send a messenger over, I have a report to be sent.” Yordeen said, her voice surprisingly weak, even to her. The servant scurried away. Yordeen looked upward once more, hoping the Giver was watching them from above, guiding events that would soon deal with this matter so she could return to her normal mundane Rotations.

------------------------

Dailin woke with the intake of a large breath of air, his body aching from the previous night exertion. Absentmindedly he hummed the pains away as he stretched in his kingly bed. His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes noticing he was alone. Normally at the very least Sothsea would be curled around him, yet his bed was bare. He shrugged as he laid back down, the heaviness of sleeps-pull still strong enough to tempt him back into its embrace. But he steeled himself and began taking deep slow breaths, filling his lungs to capacity each time. As the excess mana that came from the environment entered him, he had it streaming towards his veins, either thickening the ones already formed, or spreading the lines outward, slowly converting his body into something other.

Time trailed by as he continued his measured breathing, the warmth, and pleasure that came from the mana flowing in and becoming part of him were enough that the outside realm dissolved away. Time passed Dailin completely unaware of the person who entered his room and now stood at the edge of his bed, watching him with raptured gaze. She stayed there letting the minutes pass watching the show Dailin was displaying. His body glowed, pulsing in sequence with his breathing, the light increasing slowly with each breath he took, the lines marking his body slowly moving their way across him.

Even though she wanted nothing more than to continue watching her greatest treasure, she forced her reluctant tongue to speak “Beloved.”

Dailin took in a sharp intake of breath as his eyelids flew open and his eyes swiftly swiveled towards the source of the intrusion. At the same time air rippled, as a thin shield enveloped him out of instinct rather than thought.

“Unthee,” he said the shielding dispersing “Hah, sorry about that you startled me.” She bowed to him and drew near once more after she’d dashed back from his performance.

“I owe you the apology Beloved, I should know better than to disturb your blessing.” Unthee stepped on to the bed, walking towards him, before plopping down. He sat upright and pulled her into a hug, which she melted into. The anxiety she’d been inflicted with by his abrupt chant left her as she wrapped and pressed him back into the bed. She began to smother him with kisses, becoming quick of breath, before she stopped, and sighed into his bare chest.

Rising she performed a low wind chant and fanned herself, her face flushed. She’d closed her eyes, her face scrunched up into a knot of annoyance, then relaxed. “Sorry again Beloved, but I didn’t come to lay with you.” She said while rubbing a hand on his chest “more offers have arrived, Younna and Zulae wondered if you’d be interested in accepting some.”

“Ah, of course,” he said rising and planting a loving kiss on Unthee lip, doing so out of amusement to see the excitement in her eyes and her forced to fight with her urges. He wasn’t disappointed as she grasped his head grinding their faces closer before she pushed him away. Her breath haggard, she got up and said hurriedly “I'll send servants in to prepare you, they’ll guide you to the Council chamber, I’ll meet you there.’ She rushed out the door in all hast, he smirked and bit his lip, so the forming laugh didn’t escape. His Maidens became easily impassioned when they weren’t pregnant, and he was surprised they hadn’t outright pounced on him yet to work on the next batch.

‘Then again I’ve been busy sleeping with a dozen or more Giftless.’ Younna had been quick to act once he gave her the permission to bed him with such women. It hasn’t been an exactly fun experience for all involved. The new servant Maidens, breeders, were thrilled to be chosen and molested him with the same hungry eyes as everyone else. But when it came to laying with him they hesitated, better put they were scared to do so. Zulae in order to speed things along filled the grove with incense to the point it was a thick fog. It did help, which is why he woke to such a sore back. He still recalled much of what transpired, his body with the help of some mana treatment fared much better against the concoction of vile smoke.

Unthee had been watching the act of lovemaking from the doorway, but for once she wasn’t alone. Sothsea stood there as well, wrapped, or perhaps held at bay by Unthee. Dailin had rarely seen Sothsea angry, and the occasions had been short moments quickly whisked away when he came near and gave her attention. But during his time with the Giftless she looked ready to kill. She wore an unsubtle look of hate and disdain while watching the women lay with him, she even had tears running down her cheeks. Though there wasn’t any sorrow in those eyes, only rage. If Unthee hadn’t been there holding her, Dailin wouldn’t have been surprised if Sothsea had attacked or maybe killed the women once he was done with them.

She changed after that affair, not towards him, she was even touchier now when he was close, but with her fellow Maidens, she’d become distant. He hoped it wouldn’t stay such, she was one of the four that ran most the things in his House, and he rather not have them fighting with each other. That and she was the one that went out and collected needed things regularly.

Sighing he rose from his bed and walked towards it edge before hopping off as he heard Servants moving about accompanied with the clattering of trays. They swarmed into his room, many heading over to his wardrobe, while others rushed to him with a basin of water, food, and drinks. He tried to wash his own hands, but the servants were having none of that as they took hold of him. While he was being scrubbed one of the Servants moved close and began feeding him fruit.

Only when they deemed his hands clean enough was allowed to eat at his own volition. But that didn’t last long as the women who went to his oversized wardrobe come marching out. Those with the bulk of the clothing left, while one carrying his normal garb (a robe) walked over and they wrapped it around him. The robe was only there to hide his modesty while they guided him towards the baths. Said robe was quickly ripped from him and he was swept over to the showers and scrubbed up and down the length of his body, then placed within the pool sized bath. There reclining in a submerged lounging chair was he washed in full by a myriad of hands. Soaps, oils and other types of lotions were lathered into him, while he did his best to relax and try to ignore the multitude of eyes hungering over him.

It was irritating that they always stopped when he started to dove off, which was likely their unconventional time clock to know he was bathed long enough before arms wrapped around him and pulled him from the waters. Towels smothered him as the servants worked furiously to dry him, and his ever elongating hair, which was going past shoulder length now. Servant’s carefully combed him doing their best to remove knots without yacking on his head. He was tempted to tell them that they could, with how his neck was it would never cause him pain in that regard. But he decided against it, they already watched him closely as is, he didn’t want them to start monitoring every aspect of his body, waiting for some change.

When he was dried more oils were applied on his skin and hair then finally they began clothing him. The clothing of the day was different shades of blue, with gold trimming and patterns woven into the shirt and pants. Then a cloak that was similar in design. He had his arms outstretched to the side, giving the servants an easier time adorning him and then fussing about as they removed wrinkles. Afterward, they stepped back, circling him as they slowly inspected their work before they finger talked with each other and he was finally guided to the Council chamber.

He could have done all of that in less than half the time, maybe minutes since it took a second to dry himself with magic. He made the mistake of caring for himself once, waking early one morning and went about bathing and clothing himself. Apparently, he hadn’t freshened up to his Maidens standards, as they had a fit when he came to them for a meeting. They had thought at the time the Servants had shirked at their job, and he had to run after them when they marched to punish the women. That hadn’t been a fun morning, nor the strained talking to he got from his Maidens afterward. Who were acting like mothers disciplining a child, while at the same time trying to be respectful, since he was the highest ranking member in their House.

It only got worse as now the Servants watched him constantly, and at least one guarded his door in the morning waiting for him to try that stunt again. Not that he would, he didn’t want to make people’s lives even more tiresome than they already were.

Everyone parted or ducked into rooms as his group ushered him to the Council chamber, where once he neared the area the servants removed themselves from him and were replaced by his many Daughters.

“Good renewal.” He said to them, spinning mana into his words so it sent warmth coursing through his girls, they always enjoyed that.

They relaxed and spoke as one “Blessings to you Founder.” He lips twitched and he forced a smile to overcome the frown that was about to form. He should find peace with the fact they would always use his title around so many possible listening ears, but it always made him miffed. His children shouldn’t be on guard around their own, shouldn’t have to worry about their every move around him. He sighed as they guided him, and prayed that perhaps one day, years from now, whatever training they went through will lessen, and they will act warmly around him always.

They open the large chamber doors and stood aside as he entered then closed it behind him as he passed. There his four Loves were in some heated debated their fingers, and hands moving wildly about before they turned towards him.

“Heart blessing upon you for your timely arrival,” said Younna as he approached and sat at the table. He wasn’t particularly sure if she was joking, her voice had sounded sincere.

“I do my best Love, at least when allowed,” he said smiling and looked around the table, a chaotic display of shards laid about. “So what’s this about offers?”

Zulae was the one to speak “Houses have become more giving since many of the children you’ve seeded have been born and appraised.” She looked at him “They offer a great deal just to have one of their daughters lay with you, to the point it’s “she gave Younna a look, who avoided her gaze “unseemly for us to continue ignoring.”

More bribes? In truth he'd expect them to stop after he sent shards telling them he was refusing their offers to join their Houses, that out of spite they would stop making deals with him, but apparently not.

Unthee spoke up “With the new additions to our House and the number of children that will come along with it, we’ll need a great deal more supplies to keep everyone cared for, and more importantly trained and properly armed.”

“Prices on common goods are rising, “said Sothsea her voice lacking its normal cheer “We're spending through our Worth at a rapid rate keeping everything maintained, we could alleviate this if we were to send some of our sons outside.”

“No,” he said cutting her off, all of them turned giving him looks of surprise. “I know little of what has transpired out there, but I know enough not to want any of my children dealing with the horrors that lay outside our Gates.”

“But Treasure, they need to start providing, they're all trained, all capable to deal with Tasks.” Said Sothsea

“I know” he answered “But not if it’s going to put them in danger, not when they don’t need to. I can lay with more women these Houses offer that should easily cover whatever expenses we’re all dealing with.”

Sothsea lips thinned, and she looked ready to argue with him, but Unthee placed a hand on her shoulder, while Younna spoke, pulling his attention away from them. “How many of the offers will you accept Heart?” she asked

“However many I need to, in order to solve our problem.” Which he doubted was all that bad, they had their own gardens, after all, food was cheap, clothing abundant, and they owned the building they were staying in. Their expenses can’t have changed so much overnight.

Younna leaned back in her chair, her eyes turning from him to the many shards on the table. Zulae spoke her voice always soothing “If you were to accept most, all, of the offers we would be secure for some time, but I know your need for solitude Bondmate.”

“Its fine,” he said, smiling at the lot of them “If it means all of you and my child are cared for, made safe, so be it.”

Zulae bowed her head to him, the others slow to act as they, at first had been glaring at one another. “Bless your kindness Bondmate.” Said Zulae

He chuckled “Raise your heads, there’s no need for that, we’re family, we must take care of our own, no one else will.” That and he wasn’t in truth doing anything hard, he was sleeping with women for Gods sakes. They act as if he’s committing some great act of selflessness. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

They looked to one another, Zulae subtlety wiggled her fingers at Younna, which got Sothsea to glower, and Unthee to look annoyed. Younna tuned to him “we’ve been wondering if you would allow us to bring in more Soulless and that you would be willing to lay with them?”

He shrugged “if it’s needed by all means.” Those Giftless were quite the boon in their own way, the poor dears worked themselves to death running around acting needed all the time. The estate shined from all the cleaning they did to every surface, it was possible there wasn’t a speck of dust left. Though the downside was they treated him like the plague, clamming up the moment he was around, shaking feverishly when he started to talk to one of them.

“Please Treasure,” said Sothsea her tone pleading “There's no need for you to sully yourself with more of those things, just let me find some normal Servants to attended us, who cares if they’re from another House, it's better than those Soulless desecrating our halls.” Unthee scowled at her, as did the other two, but Sothsea ignored them as she stared at him.

He sighed “I understand your unease Love, but these Soulless have proven to be more useful to me than any blessed servants.”

Sothsea gave him a look of incredulity, her hands spreading displaying her palms “What? Their soulless their nothing useful about them, their filth, things that shouldn’t be within your blessed halls.”

“Sothsea enough,” said Younna her tone terse, and her eyes daggered, Sothsea was unfazed and gave her own look of detest.

Dailin raised a hand “Don’t fight” he looked to Sothsea “The Soulless work themselves to the bone, allowing other more important individuals to focus on higher things. Plus they loyally is as good as it could get from someone not of my blood. They have nowhere to go, they won’t risk losing my generosity.”

Sothsea turned her eyes downwards, and sagged into herself “Of course Treasure, forgive my short-sighted thinking.” Nothing in tone said she meant any of the words, but if she was willing to drop the subject he didn’t care. “There’s nothing to forgive Love, you’re allowed to have a differing opinion and to voice them if you see it worth mentioning.”

She glanced upwards, looked into his eyes “Then can I have the sheets they soiled in the grove replaced and burned?”

Was that what this was about? She didn’t want to share items with the Giftless? “If it makes you feel better, of course, Love, burn as many as you like.” Her smile returned, and Unthee rolled her eyes. He turned his gaze to the others “Anything else?”

“No Heart, not unless you wish to view the shards for yourself, and tell us which offers you wish to start with.” He shook his head and rose “No need for that, I trust your judgments with these matters” he headed towards the door “I’ll be in my chamber if you require me Loves, farewell.”

“Blessing to you,” they all said as he left. Daughters flanked him the moment he exited the chamber. They remained cold and distant, during their walk, refusing to act like their true selves, even around the new servant Maidens. They relaxed some when he reached his chamber, enough that they allowed him the indulgence to hug them before he entered his room.

As he closed the door behind him he took a moment to scan the interior for any obvious signs that someone was hiding. He increased the volume his ears could pick up. Then listened for breathing or a heartbeat. He waited about five minutes just in case an intruder was trying to hold their breath.

Nothing, the only noise he was picking up on was from his daughters giving orders to servants that passed.

He sighed, allowing himself to relax. The memory of the messenger still brought him concern, even with his neck changed. Not that he was worried for his life, but the memory of previous lives still had him antsy. Dying to an assassination wasn’t always quick, there were times he been tortured for information first.

He breathed and headed for his sprawling table, servants had left trays of food, as well as pinchers of drink he favored. But more importantly was the stake of shards Sothsea or one of the servants had left him to study. The pile was larger than the previous ones, which he hoped meant his Maidens were becoming lax in their vigil in keeping unsettling sights away from him. The thought got a laugh out of him, as he munched on a flower and berry flavored fruit. He’d seen things that would make them faint, perhaps lose their minds considering how fragile they were when it came to things unpleasant.

He plucked a shard rolling it in his hand as he sat. The moment he connected he found himself within Sanctum tunnels, which gave him a start as the place was under attack. The white light he’d become used to was replaced with instinct inducing red that had his neck hairs starting to stand on end. He sped up time, watched as the tunnels quickly passed him by, none of the runes were white, but not all were red, which was something he supposed.

The people that marched with him didn’t share his opinion, as they leaned close together, their ears fidgeting. He saw why when the door leading outside came into view. The thing was blazing red, the very definition of a doorway that led to realms of torment. He slowed time back to its normal pace once they were near the Gate. It was annoying he didn’t have control of where the view went, he could tell that he was in a larger group. But he still wanted to look behind him and see just how far it extended. The Maker of the vision never did, the individual attention was focused squarely on the Gate and Taskmaster that stood at their head.

“Full assault with Wind” bellowed the Taskmaster “Instantly send the Givers wrath when an Ancient appears, I don’t care if it may spend you, we will use everything we have before retreating, those Above demand it. Now ready yourselves.” The Taskmaster turned, moving to the edge of the wall that connected to the Gate. He placed a shard on a Ward, sent a pulse and the double door slowly opened. The tunnel became submerged in the echoes of Nightmare screams the instant a crack formed. Dailin lowered the volume before the sounds cultivated into a headache.

Once the opening was large enough Nightmares began squeezing themselves through or more like pushed, the effort wasn’t smooth as some of the creatures broke limps that were in an odd angle. As ordered howling winds were crafted smearing the Nightmares clawing at them through the gap. The Gate began opening faster now that Nightmares weren’t pressing against it, he was able to see the outside in full now, and he wasn’t pleased to see the sight. The previous shards his Maidens had provided showed Nightmare actively returning, but nothing of this scale.

His Heart leaped when a mound of flesh appeared and the Taskmaster began screaming. Light blanketed them, the air buzzing as the lightning traveled about, scorching everything it touched. The Ancient wailed once hit, its form instantly cooking and ripping apart. Its skin glowed, he could make out the symbols in the skin, but whatever protection it was supposed to provide wasn’t enough as it was blown apart. The Nightmares went into a frenzy, as the remains of the Ancient moved and retreated back into the seas limps. The light faded then replaced with winds that pushed the Nightmares back.

He stopped time, studied the beasts closely, they dwarfed the first ones he’d seen when coming to this realm. Even larger than the Nightmares the previous shards had shown, and back even in the dim lighting, he could make out more beasts that were larger. He recalled his sons asking him if there were Ancients outside their walls. He had thought it was in general terms, but now he saw that they were asking if there were literally Ancients right outside their walls. The realization had his heart racing, and him breathing heavily. It was now wonder why his instincts were hounding him every waking moment. ‘Gods and here I thought I was safe, strong enough to face off against any Nightmare threat that happened to reach me.’

The scene before him showed how little he was, how even above so many he would be swept aside like everyone else if that horde got to them. He would make a good last stand, kill hundreds of them, but he would eventually tire. He disconnected from the shard, slumped into his chair, and forced himself to take deep calming breaths. He stilled his mind, closed his eyes and focused on breathing in mana, guiding it into his veins. The warmth and feeling of growth that came from it brought peace, his muscles relaxed and slowly his heart returned to a normal rhythm. He stayed that way for minutes maybe an hour, he didn’t know he only broke from the intoxicating pattern when he felt calm enough to continue.

He placed the shard he was holding to the side and grabbed another, then another, each showing Ancients Leading Nightmares, hosts of men trying to push back a swarm of creatures in vain. Some of the shards weren’t so dire, showing him scenes that he was used to, small patrols hunting Nightmares or running from larger groups. It had him wondering how old some of these memories were. The Nightmares in visions with simple Patrols were small, meek, compared to the ones with Ancients. Also, the patrols were filled with mostly older individuals instead of children.

Then during one of the shards, while watching spells being flung into the maws of hundreds of Nightmares he spotted his Mentor. There still as a statue, unmoving stood Aethin, with children huddling around him. He knew then that these shards with Ancients were recent. Aethin would have mentioned he was part of something so hellish, would have boasted about it when he complained about things were too risky or something was wrong.

Dailin skimmed through most of the shard, then the rest that remained till he’d glimpsed the contents of all of them. He was left rattled, his instincts whispering in his ears ‘It’s going to get worse, time is short grow, power you need more power.’ He tried to ignore it, he was safe here, hidden behind layers of Wards and walls. ‘But for how long?’ said his instinct with a smug tone. The question was a knife, a knife that had cut away a curtain.

He became aware of other whispers, the very air seemed alive with them, he noticed many, noticed where it was coming from.

‘You are safe.’ Said one ‘These walls will not break’. Claimed others ‘The Wards will hold the Nightmare away.’ Others spoke ‘Look away these concerns are below you.’ Screamed some.

On and on, some many whispers all coming from Wards outside, hidden, embedded in the hymn the Wards were always playing. ‘Lies’ whispered his instinct, and Dailin understood, he’d always known, yet the Wards had stilled pull him into a daze. A part of him wanted to return to it. For now that he was aware, awake from the spell his instincts were pushing, urging him harder than ever too ready himself. He laughed, how he was supposed to prepare for something that would overwhelm him with numbers alone?

‘Children. Hearts.’ Those words echoed in his skull, his instinct screaming it louder than anything before. He didn’t like the thoughts those two words brought. He didn’t want his children forced into facing those monsters. The scenes played again, the pictures of Ancients clear, the endless hordes behind them.

‘My children are doomed to face them, eventually.’ If what he saw was current and the assault would remain at that strength. Then soon, somewhere down the road, a flock will be called, perhaps multiple. There will come a time that some of his children will be forced into one. Perhaps one of his Maidens will sell one off without him noticing. It’s not like he could keep track of them, there’s so many now.

His worry grew worse, that even with sons at his side it might not be enough. Not with how his instincts were calling to him even here under so many protective Wards, still it urged him, told him he wasn’t safe. It’d never been wrong, least not with the memories he could recall, all showed him either dying or being harmed when he ignored this warning. ‘I haven’t been ignoring it.’ He told himself defensively. He’d been training most of the time, when he was alone, he thought he was strong enough to face the threat his instinct was screaming about. But he wasn’t, not even close ‘I suppose I’m a still a fool at times, if I was ready the urges to train would have left.’

He still had time, the images of hearts displayed themselves to him, the Mana held within calling his name. As long as he had items of that caliber to use he’ll be fine. Dailin found his muscles beginning to itch, his fingers tapping frantically against the table and his legs fidgeting. The urge was so strong now, the call for action, he had a solution, and an easy one too.

He’d gotten his hands on a Heart just long enough to test if he could use the Mana within just like the type in the air. It answered his commands instant rushing towards the parts of him he wanted to be improved. So much so that he found the Heart almost half empty by the time he regained his senses. He’s sure people noticed his light was dimmer after he had to fill the Heart, but none had voiced concern, so he played the part of not noticing anything wrong.

He rose hastily pushing the chair back as he stood hovering over the table, his mind at war with itself. If he goes to the treasury and began draining Hearts everyone will notice. Questions will come forth, maybe demands if his Maidens needed those Heart to maintain the household. However, if he didn’t act, grow as fast as possible to be strong enough to face the threat when forced. He’ll die, his children will die. All because he was too fearful of being noticed, that someone may figure out his secret. Which now that he had a decent picture of what was happening outside, might not be the worst thing.

There was so many, and those beast were getting bigger, turning into those Ancient abominations. Would he soon have to deal with an army of creatures that would be flinging spells at him?

‘Gods no.’ If that happened how long would he last? If a single spell got through his defenses he’d be torn apart before he had a chance to even attempted to heal himself. Not unless, the image of the Ancient he faced appeared to him, its glowing rune pattern skin glowing brightly in his memory. Spells shattering uselessly against its hide, allowing to it attack them with impunity.

“Yes, yes, I would be untouchable” his voice shimmered with excitement. With the Hearts he could enact the change instantly, it would even keep himself safe from normal assaults as well, none would be able to kill him, not without great effort on their part.

His mind made up he rushed to the door. Only to double back to grab the shard he needed before heading for the door again. Then pushing through he sped off not giving his daughters that guarded his chamber a glance. He hurried towards the vault that held his salvation paying no attention to the people he passed, nor the small group of children following him. He only took heed of them once the vault came into view, his sons standing guard at the entrance. They appeared bored as they leaned against the walls, and murmured to one another. That stopped as they hopped to attention when they noticed him “Founder” said one “Is there something we can help you with?”

Dailin only stopped when he was a few steps away from the door, and willed it open with telekinetic vines. “Yes don’t let anyone in to disturb me” he looked at his son “no one, not even Maidens, understood?”

“Yes, Founder,” said the child doing a poor job at hiding his confusion and worry. Dailin smiled and patted him on the shoulder before strolling into the vault, and closing the door behind him.

The room was massive and like all things circular with built-in shelves all along the walls. There were crates made of stone everywhere, some stacked high enough that it neared touching the ceiling. But he ignored those, instead weaving his way through the maze of containers, before arriving at the detailed craved chest that held the Hearts within. A protective barrier encased the chest, formed and kept running by Wards engraved on the pedestal the container was placed upon. The Barrier was weak, only meant to keep the Giftless from getting their hands on the items that laid within. But the Barriers also sent an alarm to his Maidens if an individual forced their way through the protections. Lucky for him as the Founder or head of the household, he had a key. He pulled out the shard and laid it on the Wards, then a second later the Barrier winked out.

He quickly opened the chest and was blinded by the intense glow of a multitude of Hearts shining on him. His smile grew widen enough that his cheeks began to hurt, but he was too happy to care. He grabbed a Heart, and took a deep breath, pushing aside all unnecessary thoughts as he formed a simple but very specific idea in his mind. Only then did he pull the Mana from the Heart, while reciting the mantra in his mind.

Mana raced into him overfilling his channels then spilling out into his body. He focused on the excess, willed it to listen to hear his desire. The substance stilled, stopped completely. It stayed that way even as he continued chanting his want, time moving by and he had to fight fears and worries that were forming as the Mana didn’t respond. Then after maybe his twenty-ith time reciting his mantra the mana acted. As a whole the Mana from the Heart moved underneath the skin of his body. A change began to occur, but he didn’t focus on it, he remained still and continued chanting his Mantra. Kept the idea of what he wanted, needed the Mana to accomplish vividly clear.

His body began to warm, that of blanket being wrapped around him, his worries melted away and it became easier to continue chanting, he only had to momentary break from his mantra to grab another heart when the excess of the first heart ran out. He emptied another three before he took hold of himself and the quick rate he was burning through Hearts. He stopped as the last of the excess was used, the warmth he felt lessened but remained.

As he opened his eyes and looked down he was shocked to find every speck of skin on his hands and arms was traced with rune patterns. The runes were dim the glow far from the brightness of his veins but it was impossible not to notice them. He hastily looked around for a mirror, since there was always one near, his people were enamored with looking at themselves and preening. He found a body length one leaning against a wall with others of smaller sizes. He stopped, even from a distance he could see similar runes crawling along his face.

He took slow steps forward hands touching his cheeks as he stared into the mirror. He began pulling off clothing, till his upper body was bare. The Mana had done exactly what he told it to do, but still, it left him speechless as the circling patterns traced around every part of him. “I didn’t think this through.” He could never go outside now, not unless he was covered head to toe, even then how was he supposed to deal with people? One look at him and they would be asking him questions. “What am I going to tell them?” All will know at least in his family that this change happened instantly, that he walked into the vault fine, then came out different.

He leaned on the mirror studying himself closely and noticed that even his hair had small runes woven in. As he looked closer there seemed to be runes with runes, the pattern kept going till his eyes couldn’t make out the details anymore. He pushed himself away cupping his head in his hands as he paced back and forth taking large breaths as he began to hyperventilate. Minutes passed before he gained a semblance of calm.

His voice quivering “Well, I suppose should check to see if it worked.” He said while raising a hand and extending a finger. He performed some practice shots at the wall first cutting thin lines with the wind. Then did the same to his finger, he waited for pain to registers, but nothing, the runes on his finger that were being hit did beginning to glow brighter. As the chant went on he felt a slow pull of mana from his veins head towards the finger. He increased the power of the wind attack, but still, his finger remained unaffected, the runes only glowing brighter till it shined like one of his veins. Though mana began flowing faster towards the appendage.

He stopped his attack and inspected his finger, not a scratch was left, and the runes in that area quickly dimmed back to match the rest. His hand dropped as he stayed up into the air his mind dizzy. ‘As long as I have mana coursing through me I’m untouchable?”

A low laugh trickled out of him, which grew in force, his whole frame began to shake as it increased in volume and he keeled over and began slapping his legs hard.

The room instantly fell silent as his laughter died. “Ow,” he said rubbing his thigh, frowning his lips running line. He turned towards the wall, walked up to it and gave it a good punch. “OW!” He shook his hand while flexing it, bones popped, and he chanted, healing the damage he caused.

“What shit is this.” he looked his hand over, before punching the wall again, this time far lighter. It hurt, but when he looked at his hand there wasn't a mark, nor redness. He huffed, and looked around for something sharp. Walking over to a crate he eyed its pointed edges and began scrapping his hand against it, pressing hard so that it would normally form a cut.

Nothing, or least no mark, but the muscles underneath his skin began to protest as he pushed the edge deep into his hand. “So my skin can’t be damaged, but the stuff underneath still can. Not the best outcome.”

Then again it was what he asked for, he envisioned the skin being improved nothing else. ‘So if I took a blow to the head by a hammer or rock it would still kill me.’ Sure his skin wouldn’t break, but his skull would.

‘Bones next’ he thought as he headed back to the Hearts. He’d already changed himself to the point it would cause him grief he might as well make it worth the effort.

-----------------------------

Tealhun watched the Servants guide her Papa away, she felt the urge to grind her teeth return as the servants had the audacity to have their heads raised while in his presence. When the time came she’d make sure such acts would come with the consequences it deserved. Tealhun wondered how many she could have killed before the maintenance of their House would suffer, yet another thing to discuss with her sisters.

When the vibrations of their footsteps stopped she signed to her fellow sisters guarding Papa chamber and headed inside. The Servants had rushed, that was plainly clear as they hadn’t even begun removing the sheets from the bed. Her Papa did make things difficult with how he would stay in bed unless disturbed, or some idea struck him.

She walked over to the table of stone, which to her view was lacking in extravagance. Her Papa furnishings weren’t up to the standing he deserved. ‘Stone they offer him furniture made of stone.’ The nerve of her Mothers had no end it seemed, but all will be made well soon. A smile crept across her lips as the thought of her own Mothers playing a part in their end brought her warmth. It soured however as anger creeped its way in, even now after she’d asked the Giver for calm, the rage was still there waiting to get out. It wasn’t unwarranted, but also not something she needed right now. Her Mothers had to be stopped, that was abundantly clear.

To allow Soulless into their home, that alone was enough of an offense to her beloved Papa, but then, then. She breathed, called on the trance of calm to still the rage that began to fester within her. The images it brought, though unhelpful were soothing to witness. Imagining herself strangling her mothers, or cutting them apart, making them beg for mercy. She longed for it, the rage demanding retribution for having her Papa lay with beasts. She centered herself willed and cast the anger and tempting thoughts back to the recesses of her mind. There would come a time for it, but not now her Papa freedom, his ascension came first.

She placed down the sack containing this Rotation worth of shards her Papa asked for on the unworthy table, and carefully emptied the visions onto the surface. From behind she heard fellow sisters enter with the trays of food and drink he enjoyed the most. It was satisfying to see so many sisters join her cause to care for their Givers Chosen. It was so easy now to pull fellow blood to her side, even her Brothers listened when she spoke. Their Mothers have overstepped themselves, all were wrathful to see Soulless walking the halls. Tealhun was disappointed that more haven't killed the creatures, but it was for the best. Sothsea was already doing that task for them, at least one of their Mothers had enough sense to know the folly they’d committed. Not that it would save her, she was too lowly to be allowed to remain.

Tealhun shook her head waving away the distraction thoughts, and focused on organizing the bundle of shards. Their Chosen asked to know what was transpiring outside, yet once more her Mothers subtly disobeyed him, providing visions of the past. She understood some, visions were dangerous, but her Papa was blessed he wouldn’t, couldn’t become cursed by such merger sights. Yet her Mothers once more thought they knew better than he. She huffed, the anger rising again the image of ripping their tongues out washing over her eyes. ‘Away worthless thoughts, I have no time for you.’

The anger and scenes vanished allowing her to continue her work. She ordered the shards so Papa would grab the ones she’d added to the bundle of shards Sothsea had deemed safe enough to be presented to him. Tealhun would have none of that, her Papa wanted to know the visions outside and like always Tealhun would provide for her Papa. She’ll make sure he’ll get everything he wants, no matter the cost. It was his right, the Giver demands it, his soul proof that he was favored, yet her Mothers ignored it, denied him at every turn.

She rose, studied her work, the placement correct that he’d grabbed one of hers first. Tealhun sent an offer of thanks to the Giver that her Papa was a being of routine, it made caring for him so much easier. They removed themselves once everything was in place, and her sister returned to their posts guarding the entrance to his Chamber. Not long her Papa returned, showering them in his affection. Tealhun couldn’t help herself and let him pull her into a hug. Her heart fluttered, and though she knew there could be traitorous eyes watching she let herself be held for a few loving breaths before pulling away. The realm went cold again once he entered his room, but she weathered it, she had to, for his sake, she would remain strong.

Servants came, thinking they would enter his room to clean, she and her sister barred their path and had them leave. ‘How dare these lowly pests, don’t they see Papa has need for his solitude.’ Again she stopped herself from grinding her teeth in frustrations, ‘soon, soon things will be made right, just a little longer Tealhun, a little longer.’

Her trance of Peace broke as the noise of her Papa door flying open woke her. He strode away from them, not saying a word, something that was very uncharacteristic of him. She and her sister raced to follow, too afraid to call to him. His presence was firm, instead of the warmth that normally encompassed him. Her heart raced as she worried if she’d done something wrong, somehow they had failed to please him.

Her Papa ignored everyone as he marched passed people, individuals hurriedly step aside as she finally realized he was heading to the vault. When they arrived he only gave a few short words before entering and closing the vault door on them.

Her brother Vollow turned to her, scared like everyone else. “What happened Tealhun? Founder has never acted in such a manner. ‘Papa’ she wanted to scream at him, but she bit her tongue, forced the remark back down her throat.

She answered, confessed, “We don’t know, he stormed out of his chamber not long after entering it.” Vollow looked away, frowned at the floor when she knew it was meant for her. But Vollow at least had enough manners, and sense not to cross her.

They were left waiting, pasted a Round before the door opened and Papa showed himself. Her breath caught as she laid eyes on him. Wards adorned him now, all the skin she could see was covered in the most beautiful marking she’d seen. Words left her lips before she had time to know it was her “The Giver blessed you.” Was the Giver herself showing she approved of the actions she took to care for the Chosen?

She didn’t have time to ponder that, for Papa looked at her, their eyes meeting, and she couldn’t look away from the soul coming from his eyes, it was to warm, to caring to be ignored.

He smiled at her. “Yes,” he said. “Yes the Giver blest me.”