“Forward” a Taskmaster screamed as the men around him remained fixed in place, looking upon death. An Ancient had arrived, a thing Yordeen was unfamiliar with. Its lower section was that of a Carver but with far bulkier and lengthy leggings. It had the head of a Death Maw, and the hulking arms and torso of a Grounder. But most of all was the shelling that encased it, it was aglow with bright vivid patterns. They almost looked like Wards and that thought had her spine sending waves of chills coursing through her body.

The thing screeched at them, the volume it made rippled the air and many pulled on their ears. It charged, lowering itself as it did so, using its muscled arms to help speed it along. Guards even terrified had enough sense to activate their Hearts and thrusts Spears forward. The air sizzled with power ready to rip anything that neared. The Ancient ran into the lines of Guards, the Spears attack causing only sparks to flare as the Hearts fought to break through the Ancient shell. The not-Wards only glowed brighter, effortlessly reflecting the Spears attack. The Ancient stride never slowed as the waves of rippling air moved around it, leaving not even a small mark as it stomped through the Guards. The sound of the act was deafening as loud pops of bone and smashed organs had Yordeen filling uneasy.

The Taskmaster screeched out commands, ordered for the Chanters to bring down the Givers Wrath. Chanters banded together raising their hands. As they ready themselves the Ancient pushed further into the Flocks ranks. Smashing its four arms wildly in all directions. Rending anyone hit into an unedifying mash, which was many given the Guards were in a tightly packed formation. Their Spears found to be utterly useless against the Ancient.

The realm went bright, the Givers echoes of anger booming loudly in the air. The light shuck and to Yordeen horror the beasts shelling held. The lines weaved into its armor glowed brighter matching the brilliance of the Chanters attack. Then it began to fade, the Ancient screeched and hammered against the ceiling, larger boulders come down in front of the beast. The rocks burst apart as the Chanters attack made contact with the stone. But the Ancient continued on collapsing more in front of it as it hurriedly retreated back using the falling stones as shielding. To her dismay, it was working, and not long after the Chant petered out as the Lowly Chanters souls reached a point they were no longer able to maintain it. Far a passing Breath Yordeen expected the Ancient to come racing back at them. Instead, it brought more stone down blocking the path forward, obstructing the view of it. During the process, Yordeen stopped time to study the beast. Its shelling wasn’t aglow with false Wards anymore, much of the front of it was charred black, large cracks covered the length of it. Portions of the shell were beginning to fall away from the impact zone. She could see mutilated and cooked flesh underneath.

The sight brought her some calm, the beast hadn’t been able to stand against the Giver without consequence. Still, that the beast could stand against it at all had fear rippling through her. She only continued time after she had centered herself. When she did many of the Chanters fell to their knees as the toll for the Chant hit them in full. The Weaver of the visions glanced around allowing Yordeen a clear look of the damage the Ancient had inflicted. Many of the Lowly Chanters were spent, she didn’t see people reaching for Hearts, meaning none likely had any. The Guards were a mess, the Frontlines almost completely gone. The Soulless that had survived the Ancients onslaught looked broken, all their eyes distant, many of the survivors scrunched up on the floor, crying.

‘They are truly useless now.’ Yordeen thought as looked upon them and the floor covered in mutilated bodies, spears laid shattered on the ground, much of the Hearts also spent. But she could see some still aglow with waiting souls lying within.

The hall fell into a sphere of stillness, Soulless and Lowly spent emotionally from the Ancient they had barely fended off. Their moment of rest lasted only for a passing Sequence before the tunnels around them began to rattle. So did the rubble wall in front of them. Those of sound mind got back into formation. Chunks of wall broke away as Nightmares pushed their way through the breaches they made. The sight of them had the Flock tense. Yordeen understood the training the Soulless would have been provided would have shown what Nightmares looked like in the past. Now they got to see the Nightmares of the present, Nightmares triple the size of their forebears, some even large than that.

It was going to get worse the closer they got to one of the Higher mines, the Ancients had sent the eldest of their children to defend those areas. While the Nightmares farther away, near the Sanctums, were still relatively close to what they used to be. A Grounder hammered its way through a breach that was far too small for its size, the sight of it had some whimpering. In the past, if the Grounder had been a bit larger, it would have been considered it an Ancient. A small one, but still an Ancient, now it looked like a child with all the rest compared to real Ancients that had come to rampage through lands not their own.

The beasts waited for the tunnel ahead to be unblocked before they charged. A swarm poured out when the rubble was shattered into enough pieces that could push the stone fragments out of the way. Fresh lines of Guards activated their Spears and finally showed some use. The Nightmares even has large as they had become still died to the rippling air. Just not fast enough. Guards were stabbed caught unaware as the spray of bile obstructed their views. Others were grabbed by lengthy limbs and pulled into the waiting mouths of numerous Nightmares. Worst was the fact that with their increased size, and the number of them they were able to stack high above the Guards. Climbing then jumping off each other to land on top of lines of men behind the Front. The situation left many pointing and thrusting their Spears upward, making sure the rippling air stay over their heads as they desperately tried to kill Nightmares that feel on top of them.

Guards began to get bogged down and trapped underneath the weight of corpses, the lines in front began to buckle then collapse as they were overwhelmed. The Taskmaster called out for Chanters to intervene, those not spent did. Forming steps to stand on, they sent winds to push the horde back, invisible blades cut Nightmares into countless pieces, which were sent battering into the living ones. For a Breath the swarm was pushed back, allowing Guards to move forward, bolstered with an ever-marching tide of Soulless behind them. The Chants were cut off when the Guards appeared ready, and the swarm charged again.

Yordeen watched, sick with fear. She knew the Flocks formed from Soulless would fare poorly against the beasts. But she had never imagined it would be to this extent. That Nightmares themselves would be too much for them. ‘Will this first waves of Flocks even be able to claim the Mines?’ she thought as Fear nipped at her paws. Would the Worthy be forced to bear the full weight of these Tasks? She felt a growl leave her lips as Anger rose to stomp on the growing Fear.

‘Worthless pathetic Soulless, they can’t do anything right!’ She screamed in her mind as Anger began burning its way through her. ‘They’re to secure the mines, keep the Elders appeased!’ Keep them from acting, allow her more time to horde Worthy resources. But now? Yordeen felt Fear gaining ground again as disturbing thoughts entered her. Visions of the Flocks falling completely, the Soulless unable to secure a single mine. The Nightmares running rampant, even after Flocks had been sent to cow them.

She pulled herself from the Shard, her eyes opening to the mounds of Shards piling on and over her desk. She could hear the movements of paws as Servants brought more trays filled with visions. There was no room left on her table so they'd been forced to drag another near her workplace. The new table was becoming just as consumed by Shards as her desk. The visions were flooding in, the Soulless and those that guided them, in utter panic from the strength of the opposition they had been forced to face. Much of the Shards she had glimpsed through were filled with pleas for aid, or word sent to them that they are allowed to retreat back to the safety of the Sanctum they had come from.

All of it had left Yordeen wishing she could relive that Tempo away from the Shards. Where she indulged in every pleasure she could think of to clear herself of the visions. It hadn't help, but it was a nice distraction at the time, especially when she drank in enough spirits she fell into a dreamless sleep. At first, her Daughters claimed she was asleep for a Rotation before they heard her awake with a blood curdling scream. Yordeen remembered that it wasn’t something she would soon forget. When the spirits ran cold a dream manifests. One where she was forced to face every Ancient she had ever seen, forced to experience being crushed, mutilated, and eaten alive. Eventually, she became aware enough to pull herself to the surface, back to the realm. The experience had left her more drained than she was before she fell asleep. Since slumber only took her when the vessel gave out, she couldn’t risk it any other way. She and her vessel could only take so much of that kind of event before one of them gave out. Yordeen didn’t want to be remembered as one of those people who was consumed by the curses in full.

Sinking into her chair, Yordeen tried to relax, to loosen muscles that ached, but her body wasn’t cooperating. The last vision was making matters worse. Her heart was still pounding at the display of the Ancient weathering through the Givers Wrath. Even if the Chant had come from those nearing the level of Soulless it mattered little. That Chant always decided things, it was the end of everything that earned the title of being threating enough that no other measure could be used. And now, now it to wasn’t enough. She began to shiver wildly as the Fear formed from that thought took hold and wreaked havoc in her vessel. She would have to sift through the Shards surrounding her. Search for other cases which that horrible outcome had occurred, she hoped it was a sole occurrence. Something unique about the Ancient they ran into, rather than the beasts reaching a new threshold.

‘Giver please let this be a fluke.’ She Offered that thought many times as the Sequences passed by with her waiting for her body to settle. For the worst of what Fear had to Offer petered out. It did halfway through a Round, leaving her body exhausted and covered in sweat. She wiped herself and breathed out slowly. Her hand snatching up a large vase of spirits. She chugged it down, the warmth pouring into her, she forced herself to pull back, to stop the flow. She couldn’t risk falling asleep from it again, and not only for the dreams that awaited, but she couldn’t afford to get any more behind to the affairs happening Below.

The Anointed were warming up to her now, the Blind being forced to see. The outright disaster that followed sending the flocks out in every direction had done wonders to open their eyes to the truth. And now she was being forced to accept a new one herself. The truth that the Flocks weren’t going to fix everything this time. Not like it was in the past, where they could throw the unwanted out and have them deal with the Lowly matters of diminishing the Nightmares numbers. No, no this time Yordeen was beginning to see they were going to be the ones to pay the price, to sacrifice for the benefit of those Above them.

The Elders Wrath will come in full when the first wave of Flocks failed completely to secure the mines. The loss of such resources, resources used to get keep the Elders content and distracted will run dry, and their ire will be known to all. The Anointed of her Sanctum will surely find themselves forced to the Front now, and Yordeen suspected they were being to realize that same reality.

They’ve become so demanding, sending Messengers to acquire her latest Shards in an obsessed manner. Asking for her wisdom where before they had openly laughed at her. It still rang clearly in her ears, all the mockery they displayed to her when she returned to them after her Tempo of Renewal. Arvas had been crossed, her words remained the same, her outlook on the situation Below unchanged. Then the laughing started as they verbally stomped on her words and the truths she spoke to them. They even began the discussion of payment of goods. They had found her counsel before so amusing they decided to start a betting competition amongst themselves. Whoever was the closest to guessing her cursed state won. The one to mock her the most before, to her anger, had been the victor of the contest, guessing that she would be as lost as before.

‘I wonder if you’re still merry now? You Wordane birthed beast!’ She thought and cursed the man in her mind. Huffing she pulled herself from such unpleasant visions, away from the Blinded mockery and their cruel barbs, she had done what was Task of her. Seen what lays beyond and offer her best judgment, in return she had been insulted, and her wisdom parody around like a joke. Her breath came out slow and uneven as she returned her attention to the Task before her. Absently wiping a tear that had fallen down her cheek. She grabbed a handful of Shards, laying them her lap as she tossed aside the one she just viewed.

Breathing in she plunged her soul into a Shard, the sounds of a losing battle instantly entered her ears as she registered the screams of the people dying to a wave of Nightmares. From the workings of the stone tunnel around her, she could tell this Flock was far closer to one of the Mines they’d been Task to reinforce. They were doing poorly in that Task, but she held her curses for them when she gave the Nightmares a studied look.

‘Giver why are they so larger!’ The beasts before her were twice the size of the last vision. The Spears were struggling to hold back the wall of moving limbs, the bulk of them enough that Nightmares were able to push their way through to attack screaming Guards.

The Weaver of the vision pushed himself back deeper into the ranks of the Flock as Nightmares crept ever closer to his position. “At of my way you Worthless Soulless,” the man said as he moved through lines of men. “I have High matters to accomplish, Make way!” Only a few listened, the rest had their eyes locked ahead, round with open fear at the foe they were meant to face. Chanters stood on rock platforms sending waves of wind and Water at the beasts. The only thing that was actually keeping the Swarm from merely charging through these lines of rabble.

The Weaver traveled the lines long enough that Yordeen sped time forward, only returning it to normalcy when the Weaver stopped and turned the face the Nightmares. Guards were being crushed, even with Hearts in their Spears set to maximum it wasn’t enough. There was just too much bulk, too much shell and flesh for it to rip it all fast enough to kill the Nightmares. Nightmares that were using their dead as cover to attack the defenseless Guards. Some lines had shields, but the Nightmares made quick work of them too, crushing the Guards down with the weight of the dead, then spiking them through the skull when the Guards were pinned helplessly on the floor. When a line fully collapsed the Chanters stopped being careful with their Chants and blasted the whole area, removing as many beasts as they could so the next line of Guards would last longer. The Flock at this point wasn’t moving forward, but was instead being pushed back the way they came.

People scrambled about as sections of wall on both sides crumbed away as more Nightmares joined the fray. Many were caught exposed as the stone splintered off from the wall. The Nightmares that came pouring out made quick work of the dazed Guards who hadn’t had time to activate and point their Spears towards the breach. This same outcome happened along every new tunnel opening. The Nightmares only stalled when hastily crafted Chants were sent hurling into the Guards lines. That bought enough time for a poor formation to form, let the Guards activate their Spears and stab into the flow of enemies. They were able to hold Nightmares back for a Sequence before it became too much for the Spears. Grounders arrived, charging full force, the things come smashing into the lines of Guards from multiple breaches. Some of the beasts died from the act. But the spears weren’t able to dissolve the mounds of fresh before it crushed Guards. Gaps in the loose formation formed and the Nightmares struck in a heartbeat.

Yordeen watched as much of the Front was systematically butchered, the Spears rendered worthless against so many overly large Nightmares. The armor the Guards wore seemed more for decoration, rather than it offering any form of protection. She saw many Nightmares stab right through the material, lifting Guards into the air and flinging them furthering into Nightmare lines to be devoured by screeching maws. Chanters fired freely, doing their best to slow the slaughter, the Worthy, the only ones able to efficiently kill these emboldened Nightmares. Yordeen could feel Fear chill working its way up her spine, fighting with the warmth the spirits provided. It would win out eventually, with visions so cursed backing it up. She tried to find peace with that, and the truth presented to her.

The Flocks were already dead even if, by the Giver will, they made it and so how secured the mines. Yordeen could see they would never be able to hold them. Not with how the Nightmares were now, not with the majority of the Flocks made of Soulless that no longer held any use. Even the Spears were a pointless endeavor now, better to give the Hearts held within to Chanters who would use them more effectively.

She watched the rest of the scene in a somber stupor, the Nightmares, even as many of them died, were working their way through the Guards in a timely manner. Even with Chanters slowing their pace with cutting winds, and layers of ice to slow their movements. Then the realm began to shake, it was in a manner Yordeen was familiar with now. So when the Ancient that was effectively a giant rolling stone came crashing through a large portion of the tunnel the Flock was housed in, she hadn’t been surprised. The Flock had, as they screamed in horror as one moment they were relatively safe in a tunnel, then the next there was a chasm-sized path cutting the Flock in two. There wasn’t much left of the unlucky individuals who’s been on the Ancient path.

‘Or perhaps they were the lucky one?” she thought as a swarm of Nightmares came streaming down the newly formed tunnel. Those smashed had the luxury of a quick death, unlike the Host that was confronted with a fresh horde eager to munch on them. The Weaver had been blessed enough to be on the side that still had a means of escape, and the man took it without a second look as the Horde split to attack both groups. The man ran pushing his way through people till the vision blurred away and Yordeen was left with the darkness blanketing her eyes, and the cold Fear was making.

Her hand reached out and grabbed the flask of spirits without her command and brought it to her lips. Her shivering stopped as the warmth of the drink entered her stomach and expanded outward. She opened her eyes just enough to toss the Shard towards the pile of others. Taking another from her lap, she focused and continued the cursed Task of viewing. Each vision was a mirror of the last, Flocks failing regardless of where they were sent. Each of the mines that were to secure remained contested, the horde of Nightmares growing more numerous and in size. By the time she stopped her large flask was almost empty, she downed the rest of it for that was all she was going to allow herself to have for the rest of the Rotation. Rounds of viewing had done little to dent the mound of Shards consuming her desk. Not to mention the other table piled full that she hadn’t even touched yet. All likely holding worse curses than the last bunch, all pointing to the same end.

The first wave of Flocks was a complete wash, most were being forced back by Nightmares alone, by the time an Ancient, or Ancients arrived, it became a full rout. Breathing Yordeen moved her arms to push her forward, a Task in its own right now, with the number of spirits in her. Her body was a loose mess, the volume of drink making her vessel relaxed and weak even with Fear biting at her. With a groan, she rose, opened a drawer and pulled out a Shard of her own. Messengers didn’t leave now unless they were given one, Task to wait regardless of the time it would take to retrieve one of her reports.

She collapsed back into the chair with the Shard in hand, huffing at the exertion of moving an unresponsive vessel. Centering herself she connected to the Shard and began to compile the visions she wanted them to view. The Flocks inability to fight off the large Nightmares being one of the more important parts.

Image after image she layered them, painted a clear picture of the situation they all were in. She made her thoughts clear as she displayed the truth showed to her, how the Flocks had failed or were going to. How not a single one had of yet secure a mine, and that they shouldn’t expect it to happen. That they should focus on the future Task that was coming for them, such as the Elders Wrath coming down on them in full.

She showed a myriad of scenes displaying how Worthless the Guards had become, no longer able to perform their only function. She advised that the effort to train and arm them be ended, for they stood no chance against this swarm. Finally, near the end she told them the truth, that future Flocks should only be formed with Worthy, anything else was a waste of time and resources, resources which were going to grow scarce with mines being lost one by one.

She pulled herself from the Shard, filling slightly merry at the thought of the Anointed losing themselves in fear when or if they ever viewed her Shard. Someone had to be diving into them, otherwise, they wouldn’t be so adamant with acquiring more from her. Breathing out Yordeen leaned her head back, her hand losing its strength and laying with the shard in her lap.

She should have moved, been wary of making herself too comfortable, she never notice when her eyes closed. Not till she was surrounded by Nightmares, all alone, and held on the floor by one of their morphed appendages. Mandibles clinked, and they dived at her, maws biting and ripping large chunks of flesh from her vessel as she screamed herself awake.

Daughters were by her side holding on to her, humming to her, keeping her in place so she didn’t harm herself. Yordeen whimpered, her body going through shock as it still fought the knowledge that what she had just been through was an illusion. Her Daughters held her close as she focused on centering herself, grounding back to the realm around her. Her Daughters hymn guided her, filling the vessel with need strength.

“Blessings to you my children, I’m better now, the worst had passed.” She said in a spent tone. They reluctantly pulled from her, eyes studying, looking for any relapses. Slowly they left after she assured them all was well. But Yordeen knew for the rest of the Rotation there would be one watching her every moment, would rush over the moment it looked like she was about to fall asleep again. ‘Such nurturing Daughters.’ A blessing she had been allowed to live with for most of her life. A gift that came with the Title of Archivist, for who would want to inherit that Task? Required to peer into sights that would eventually consume a person if they weren’t careful.

'Few, so very few,' to her benefit. Daughters that would normally be plotting to rise above her instead spent much of their time making sure she remained in blessed health. Yordeen body would have crumbled in on itself and her House if it wasn’t for her many Daughters. She Offered they were ready for the Task that was coming for them all. That they were prepared to weather the demands from those so Above them. The Elders will be coming, their anger unrestrained as the Anointed had failed entirely to maintain order. Failed to keep the pests below from disturbing those on High.

Talking in a huff of air, Yordeen grabbed her cane and with a great amount of effort forced herself to rise. The Strain doing wonders to fixate her on the realm, rather than the calling dreams. Walking over to the Atlas Shard in hand, she hovered over the map, studying it all in detail, as she transferred an image of it into the Shard. The Mines had been marked, all those contested with a line of red underneath. Which by now was the majority, there was some left unhindered, but those were further up, near Her Sanctum. Those mines alone, even though they are large and provide much in the way of High materials. Was far from being enough to supply all the Sanctums. There was also the matter that eventually, given the trend, the Nightmares would work their way up to those remaining mines as well.

Looking at the Atlas made things appear more real, let her see clearly how bad things had turned. The Flocks had been a colossal failure, a worsening of things in truth. The visions showed the Nightmares having a joyous time feasting on the Soulless those on High had sent. Nightmares bellies would be full, and in turn, they’ll be popping out eggs in record time. Coating the walls with their vile children allowing their numbers to swell to greater heights, further solidifying their hold on the realm Below.

She sighed, the weight of the demands that would come already leaning on her. Filling Flocks with Worthy alone wasn’t something she recalled happening before. The Soulless always had a part to play, always been able to hold the line so those Above them could conserve their strength.

Not this time, the weight of the Task was going to fall fully on their shoulders, and Yordeen wondered how men would be crushed by the demand of it. How many will they have to remove from the Sanctums before this swarm was finally put back in its place? How many Flocks can they said before Sanctums begin to refuse? Become willing to face the Elders Wrath rather than be forced out into Soulless tunnels infested with pests that aimed to consume them all.

‘Not many,’ she thought, the first wave had failed completely, the second even with Worthy forming it, might not be enough either. Not with how much the Nightmares had grown, not with the number of Ancients that prowled the cursed halls Below. A third wave would be sent, and she Offer it would be enough to secure the mines. The Elders would be less interested then, buy Yordeen and the rest below the divine, time to recover from the demands. Hopefully only a fourth wave would be needed to aid the third in uttering scouring the swarm or pushing it back to the cold Abyss.

More than that? A fifth wave, a sixth? There would be anarchy, the Houses in various Sanctums pushed to their limits, unwilling to send more of the Worthy away to die in Soulless tunnels.

Yordeen, foolish as it would be, would likely be one among the many Houses revolting. There was only so many sons she could lose before her line began to thin. Forcing her down, maybe even into lower tiers no longer able to maintain the needs of living within a Tower. If she had been male she wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Recovering lost numbers would be an easy feat to accomplish, able to impregnate as many women as needed. Unlike her current situation where she was restricted to one pregnancy every three Arcs. Her Daughter would have to pick up the slack, but they were young, their channels thin compared to her own. The children born from them wouldn’t be near as Worthy, but they would make for fitting Offerings to the Flocks.

‘That will do,’ Yordeen thought. She would have many of Daughters get impregnated, laying with mates they found Worthy, or their own brothers if suitable individuals couldn’t be found. The influx would help Yordeen House withstand the coming times, help keep the truly Worthy safe from being sent to early ends. She felt Regret form and move within her, regret that she hadn’t seen the truth early. That she’d been blind as the Anointed in believing for a time the Soulless would be enough. If she hadn’t, she would already have batches of expendable children already being trained to be Offered up.

“At least I see now,” she mumbled to herself. An outcome which was above most of her peers, who as of yet only knew the minimal amount of what had transpiring Below. Few still even knew the Settlements were lost, that none remained. Many believed everything was normal, the overtrained Flocks had raised concerns, but less than Yordeen had expected. She forgot at times how much she knew over the masses, who had the choice to be ignorant of the affairs Below them. Weren’t Task with viewing all the horrors that transpired beyond the borders of Sanctums. Oh, how Yordeen envied that at times, to be free from cursed visions, free from Nightmares dreams, able to sleep peacefully without resorting to blackouts.

At least, in the end, all her suffering came with a blessing. Let her be ahead of all those around her, able to prepare Arcs ahead of everyone else. Her Daughters had been able to buy larger volumes of goods before the prices had begun to rise. A venture that would let Yordeen House outlast many of their rivals. Still, it wouldn’t be enough if things continued down the path she was seeing.

Yordeen groaned and rubbed her eyes lids as they grew heavier with each Breath. She lightly pushed herself from the Atlas as she began to drift into a cursed scene. She was about to make her vessel travel to a garden but stopped as a Messenger came striding towards her location. The woman eyes widened slightly as she looked upon the mounds of Shards heaping over the area. Mounds that continued to grow as more Servants came adding to the mass. Yordeen stood in place waiting, focused on the aches her body was bombarding her with to keep her attention on the realm. It helped as her vessel wanted very badly to crumple in on itself and rest on the tiled floor.

“Archivist,” the woman said bowing to her. “The Anointed have requested more of your wisdom. No need to rush” the woman added in a hurry “They understand the weight of your Task and have instructed me to wait as long as necessary.”

‘Like the others.’ Yordeen meant to say but found her tongue rather unresponsive. The price of too much spirits, it relaxed all, even the tongue. The woman remained bowing as Yordeen went about rolling her tongue in her mouth trying to bring it back to life enough to respond.

“No need,” she fine got out and Offered the Shard to the woman. Her arm shuck from the effort, but the Messenger made no comment of her obvious frailty as she took the Shard. Word should have spread far about her condition, how the sights Below were finally beginning to consume her after Cycles worth of service.

‘Abuse more like’ Yordeen thought bitterly in her mind. How they that she alone was to view so many Shards was a display of how oblivious they were to the state of affairs happening below them.

The woman smiled as she took hold of the shard, and Yordeen worked her tongue before the woman tried to hurry off. “Be sure that one is viewed.” She said in a weak tone “It holds Worthy truths, that the Anointed would be wise to consider.”

The Messenger bowed, “rest assumed Archivist the Anointed always look forward to your High words.”

Yordeen couldn’t stop herself from scoffing, “no one looks forward to my words girl, they bring only curses.” Breathing in “still these are curses they need to hear.” She let a chucked ebb out “If they don’t wish to find themselves at the Front dealing with the mess they allowed to fester.”

The Messenger looked troubled, not so happy anymore to be holding the Shard in her hand. “They will receive your wisdom Archivist, have no doubt.”

“Good,” Yordeen spoke as she waved her hand “off with you then, the Anointed have little time to prepare for the weight that is soon to fall upon them.” The Messenger Offered her respects once more before striding away, wrapping the Shard in a layer of cloth so her skin no longer touched it. Yordeen moved to follow as the path the Messenger took lead towards a garden. She made it only halfway before he body gave out and she fell to the floor face first. The impact not waking her in the slightest as dreamless slept took hold and held her tight.