This monster of a woman's eyes opened like a shocked child. She marched out of the room and Kir followed suit, believing she wished the conversation to be in a slightly more private location. Not that much more private it seemed as the second he closed the door she turned to him, got uncomfortably close and began an improptu interrogation.

“Where is she demon-child?”

Kir turned his head at the proximity and side stepped aside slightly.

“We need to get to the Ashbright Passage”

Mi nodded profusely

“I see, let us go”

She turned quickly to descend the stairs but stopped at Kir.

“Hang on, we should wait until tomorrow, I need to sleep, or else I’ll be entirely useless”.

The day had been long, he had used up most of his mana, not to mention he was physically exhausted. Mi looked crestfallen but lightened up a bit after a nod.

“It is prudent to rest before battle. Very well. You will be here at dawn's first light”

“How about midday?”

Mi frowned, her knuckles clenching then releasing. An act that would normally terrify Kir, but at the moment he didn’t notice it, the intense eye contact that Mi maintained took most of his focus to avoid.

“So be it demon-child, do not be late”

“I won’t be, and you can call me Vikir or Kir if you like” Kir offered, wincing at this new nickname.

“But you use demon speak, are you not a child of Asmodeus?”

Kir sighed, he was well aware of the beliefs held by those hailing from the scarred wastes. The reference to demon speak was the verbal component of the mage-hand he had used on the chair. The peoples held that any magic must be of demonic heritage, that the only necessary weapon was that of a blade. There was a reasonably complex reasoning behind this belief. There were many varying theories, though the primary was the advent of colonialist mages, as the british got a bit too big for their britches and began to politely smash down doors of distant countries. The cultures of the Scarred Wastes themselves were incredibly complex and unique, though secretive. Of course these beliefs weren’t ubiquitous as the people were often members of disparate nomadic tribes, but this one belief seemed to be a common thread through the diverging mythos.

“Ok” he said with a further sigh “I’ll see you tomorrow”. Mi nodded and Kir made his exit, stumbling slightly though what remained of his mana was helping circulate the alcohol out of his system.

**

Sable Crowley, it took a bit of time for Kir to place the name. He remembered reading it in a newspaper back in his adolescence. The man had been imprisoned for a few years for something involving a crowned individual, though Kir couldn’t remember it in its entirety as the newspaper was snatched away midway through by his mother. Whenver he thought to the disparate recent events he couldn’t think about how it all connected. Luther disappearing, strange men harassing Arcano-smiths, Pixie Dust in the mundane world. There were too many moving pieces, at the moment it was more useful for Kir to keep his head in a spellbook.

His understanding of his combat spell was coming along quicker than he thought. He had already used it twice in battle and both times provided minor epiphanies in how to use it most effectively. He used what little spare time he had during commutes and quiet moments to work on his understanding of the spell. The little time he was able to get tonight from Mi, felt like the difference between his survival and death. He was walking into the belly of the beast with half a spell and a warrior ready to spill blood at a moment's notice.

The night didn’t pass quickly. What little rest Kir could get was spent tossing and turning, sick to his stomach. When he couldn’t sleep he focused on the spell, working on it for twenty minutes then trying to sleep again. It also gave him a chance to examine the scroll he found at Luthers, incredibly useful as it turned out, though by the nature of a scroll, single use. By the end of night he counted himself lucky for what sleep he got, and departed to meet with Mi.

When he reached the Desert Jewel, he found about what he was expecting. Mi had donned full body armour, with her steel slab of a sword strapped tightly to her back as if ready to be drawn at the drop of a pin.

“Mi I would like to remind you that we will try to avoid a fight as best we can”.

Mi nodded understandingly

“I see, what is your plan?”

Kir stood for a second, of course it had occurred to him that they were massively underprepared for the task they had to undergo, but he refused to confront that fact. And he wasn’t going to start now.

“Ok let's go”

The two departed, making their way into the mundane world, Mi guiding him through the transit system. Mi’s familiarity with this left him adequately dumbstruck. She had barely been out of the Scarred Wastes for a few months, and had adjusted to the modern world remarkably quickly. The two sat on a train side by side, Mi barely fitting on the carriage, not to mention her sword awkwardly swaying around. The train to the docks was largely empty, there were maybe two other people in the same carriage, though they only outwardly saw an incredibly tall woman in heavy clothing

“You sure know your way around the city well”.

Mi turned her head slightly to Kir.

“Lyra has taught me much since arriving in this land”

Kir nodded his head, his curiosity once again getting the best of him.

“Do you miss home?”

Mi adjusted her posture slightly and stared forward.

“I do.” She thought for a moment “the Wastes are challenging to live in, but they are my home, and I do wish to return to my family once again”.

She paused, though no audible shift could be heard in her tone.

“Yet I fear I will only see them again once my time too comes”. Though the way she spoke didn’t change, there was a feeling of profound melancholy imparted in those words. Kir frowned, his understanding of the crusades were limited, though from what he understood they were unfathomably cruel and brutal.

It was a bizarre effect. Once again her tone remained the same, but as she spoke again it felt as if she was slightly brighter in mood.

“But until then, I must be able to make a home of this world” She finished her resolution with a nod.

“With Lyra?” Kir asked.

Mi turned to him, pausing her answer as the train reached its destination. Kir had never been to the docks before, and he soon came to realise that he wasn’t missing out on much. After some walking, he found them desolate, freezing and overall holding a pervasive miasma of misery. They soon came to an alleyway between two unmarked buildings.

“This is it?” Kir asked.

Mi nodded, causing Kir’s eyes to widen. It was the smallest natural shard he had ever entered. Ashbright, much like Hallowvale, were both relatively small shards. No bigger than a suburb. Though bigger shards tended to have less clandestine entrances. There was much debate on the inherent nature of these shards however the nature of their creation seemed a matter of certainty.

Since the beginning, however that came to be, the world existed in two. The mundane world and the otherworld. Both occupying the same space, simply in different dimensions. One world shaped by man and steel, the other magic and mana. For the most part the two worlds remained separate, with only the occasional wayward traveller stumbling each way.

The Celtics in particular had a bad habit of doing this: Pwyll, Cuchulainn and one Finn Mccool came to mind. Regardless of these travellers, at some point in history, scholars still argue, a war of monumental proportions within the otherworld shattered the foundations separating the two. This shattering sent entrances, now known as shards, into what remained of the otherworld into the mundane world. These entrances only led to stable pockets of the otherworld, as by all accounts it now lay irreparably destroyed. The residence of the otherworld getting jettisoned into the mundane world following the collapse.

Mi soon entered the Ashbright Passage, her shoulders barely letting her fit through the alleyway. She spoke some words loud enough for Kir to hear, now repeating them so he too could enter. These words acted as passwords put in place by the first ruling parties. Though once intended to act as a measure against intruders, they had become so easily gathered it was now more akin to paying respect to the location's former rulers.

Ashbright Passage, very much in conflict with its name, was plunged into eternal night. The sky allowed for no natural lighting, with most being provided artificially. The biggest contributors being the black gothic lamp posts lining the walkway, though alleyway would be more accurate. The shard was so tightly condensed that it was maybe only possible to walk five abreast at most .Each lamp provided a soft yellow light to illuminate the incredibly densely packed stores and outposts. The streets themselves were cobbled, much like Hallowvale, except in much greater disrepair. Any kind of labeling for stores or inns was few and far inbetween, Kir very much got the sense that if you were here, you were here with a cause.

Mi began to walk with purpose, her dark attire and intense demeanour very much suiting the atmosphere. It took a few minutes of walking for Kir to realise what Ashbright lacked in width it greatly made up for in length. But even in minutes of walking they hadn’t come across another person, just them. The buildings themselves seemed a half step between Tudor and a more sedate Gothic, the large majority of them going up above four stories.

“What shall we do when we enter the battlefield?” Mi spoke, signalling that the time drew near.

“Well I was hoping we could just talk it over and they would give her to us” Kir offered, choosing to be glib in a desperate attempt for more time to make a plan of attack.

“I see, a cunning strategy, do you think yourself to have the guile Demon-child?” There wasn’t a hint of insincerity in her voice.

“Almost certainly not” Kir responded, realising the sarcasm might be going slightly over her head.

“Very well, we shall go with my plan”

“Which is?”

Mi stopped and turned to a door, the door itself attached to one of the largest buildings he had seen so far.

“Follow my lead”