Two days later Shea received an invitation. She was returning from her training when a stranger approached her. He was taller than her and dressed in black with a dark red vest. On his chest a golden pin was secured.

“You’re to come see the Mistress tomorrow midday. Being late won’t be tolerated,” he said in a cold, strict voice. Then he turned on his heel and marched off. Half a minute later Shea was standing all alone in the middle of the street. As if she had imagined the encounter.

When she told Tyr about meeting the person, he was overjoyed. “It’s the head servant! Commander told me he might be sent!” He giggled to himself. “This is so awesome!”

Shea smiled, somewhat forced. Her worries were raising up again. Did the Mistress only want to talk about Iago’s wrongdoings? Beloved Lady, please, let it be so. That’s all I want. Don’t let her become interested in me. Or us.

No matter what Tyr said, she did not think it would be good if the Mistress involved herself in the camp politics. She was too powerful for that. Her slightest dislike could see people hurt.

The next morning came unbidden. Shea rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. Had she slept at all? It didn’t feel like it. Her body was sore and it was torture trying to keep her eyes open. They closed against her will. A yawn escaped her lips. Did she need to get up? Her mind was a mass of mist seeking the oblivion of sleep. Another yawn.

Door opened and Shea tiredly raised her head to see who it was. Lyra looked at her with pity in her eyes. “Tyr is waiting for you outside. I tried discouraging him but he’s being persistent,” she said with an apologetic shrug.

“All right…” Shea mumbled. It wasn’t exactly legible but Lyra nodded her head and closed the door behind her.

Groaning, Shea pulled her blanket off and rolled out of her bed. Her vision was bleary from sleep and she sat for a time, blinking. Yawned again. In a semi-daze she reached for her clothes and dressed in her every day dress. Dark grey, it was great in hiding any stains.

When she finally managed to get herself out, Tyr was standing by the open doors of the barracks. She thought there was something strange in his expression, worry or something, but she was too tired to pay attention to it. The sleepless night was taking its toll.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asked and she looked at him with puzzlement. Where could she have done that? He knew she just brought herself out of her bed.

Rubbing her eyes, she started towards the canteen. “No, but I’m off to.”

Tyr muttered something but it was too quiet for her to hear. Afterwards he followed her in silence. Good. It was hard to focus. Her thoughts moved at the speed of snails. Maybe once she filled her stomach?

After stuffing her share of food, she felt a bit better. Her mind cleared some and dread reasserted itself. She was meeting the Mistress. Soon.

Urri came to stand before her. Shea raised her head to see the worried visage of the cook.

“You’re so pale! Are you eating well? Was something wrong? Should I get something else for you?” the woman asked in a chatter, bending to push the hair from Shea’s forehead. She’d forgotten to brush her hair and they stirred in all directions.

“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well,” she answered with a smile that was more of a grimace. Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes and stood up. “Thanks for the food, Urri.” Her attempt at a smile was slightly more successful this time.

The woman didn’t look convinced. Still, she didn’t press. “All right,” she said pursing her lips. Then she almost jumped in place. “Stay here! I’ll be right back!”

Shea and Tyr shared a look. What was this about? They didn’t have to wait long. As promised, in half a minute Urri appeared hurrying with her cheeks red. She stopped with a huff, her skirts bellowing around her legs. “Here! Take this!”

Extended in her hands were five red apples. “I was planning to bake a cake with them, but better you two eat them fresh.” She passed three of them to Shea and the remaining two to Tyr. When he opened his mouth to ask about the inequality, she waved her finger at him in a threatening manner. “Can’t you see how pale Shea is? Just look at her! She needs all the fruits she can get!”

Her companion grumbled but didn’t argue. Rather he took a large bite off his precious apple. It’d been months since they last seen them. The desert had a definite lack of fresh produce.

Thanking Urri, they left the canteen. For a couple minutes afterwards they ate in silence, enjoying the warm sun on their faces. Then Shea noticed where Tyr was leading her. Her stomach rolled upside down and the apple in her mouth turned sour. Chewing the last bite, she put the rest of the apples in a pouch tied to her waist. Later. Once the meeting was over. Then she could enjoy them with the right amount of reverence.

There might be none for her to eat in the next couple years. If she survived that long.

With that cheery thought in mind, she closed in on the mansion.

Tyr stayed by her side until the noon. They talked about insignificant things, both clear that they were just trying to distract themselves. The closer the agreed time came, the less certain Shea became. Her biggest worry lay in the fact that Tyr was losing his composure.

At first he was laughing and joking, telling her how great this all was. As time went by his demeanour dimmed, and his eyes often roamed towards the mansion. He would quickly look away but in his glance she could see the worry. Then, right before midday, he said a quick goodbye and left. Melted away like snow under a the harsh light of the sun.

This did not bode well for the upcoming confrontation.

Wrapping her hands around herself, Shea stared at the imposing building before her. She would be entering it soon. Too soon if anyone asked her. She wanted nothing to do with the place. Its grandiose manner made her uneasy.

In her village, the largest building was the temple and it did not reach half this building’s height. It towered over her like a promise of doom. The white walls did nothing to dissuade the image. Their brilliant shine only set them more apart in the desolate surroundings.

Time passed slowly as she stood, waiting. No one showed up to welcome her in, and the gates stayed closed. After an hour or so, fear started giving way to annoyance. What was going on? Why was the Mistress not showing up?

She huffed. Circled. Looked up to stare at the large building but there was no movement. It was as if nobody lived there. But she knew better. She’d met the woman, after all. It was her place and none others. Her rich self wouldn’t demean itself to live anywhere else.

Another hour passed. Should she leave? Shea paced back and forth, glancing upwards from time to time. There was no change. No matter how much time passed, nothing happened. Maybe the Mistress forgot? It wasn’t important enough for her to remember? Or maybe she changed her mind?

It could be the case. Shea could clearly remember how the Mistress ignored her as if she wasn’t even there. Her power was nothing in that woman’s eyes. She was amused by Iago’s antics but that did not last long either. The moment he was out of sight, she forgot about him. They didn’t meet again until Iago betrayed himself, that he was a shaper.

Shea froze in her step. Meet again. They had met up numerous times afterwards! Why didn’t she think about it? Iago could have told the Mistress his own tale without anyone to say otherwise. He had the time. And inclination.

How did she not think about it! This whole meeting must be a farce! The Mistress had to know the events by now, the twisted version told by Iago. Why else would she suddenly show an interest? There couldn’t be any other explanation.

“How could I not see it?” she asked herself under her breath, turning away from the mansion. She had to leave before anyone saw her. Maybe if she didn’t show up, the Mistress would forget about it all again. She had a tendency for that.

“Not see what?” asked a heavy voice from behind her.

She was caught. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a calming breath and slowly turned around. Commander stood behind her, a scowl on his face. He raised his giant hand to wave for her to come over and she jumped back two paces. In her mind’s eye she could see that large paw coming for her face. Her sprawling on the cracked ground beneath. Face aching. Stars in her eyes.

“The boy said you had something on the shaper. Are you backing out now?” he asked with narrowed eyes. The threat was obvious in his voice.

Shea shook her head, her mouth dry from fear. Commander grunted in response. “Follow me,” he ordered and turned without looking back. She tip toed after, wishing there was any other way. But there wasn’t. The leech had to be stopped.

They walked for over ten minutes until Commander led her into a large room. In the middle of it stood a long table. Chairs lined it on each side but there was no one occupying them. Silence reigned in this place. All but for their steps. They echoed loud and disconcerting in the expansive room. Its walls were so high, she could hardly make out the ceiling.

Commander led her to the far end of the room. There, at the head of the table, she noticed a person. Mistress was leaning back on her chair, a bored expression on her face. “Move it,” she said. Her eyes passed through Shea as if she was just another part of the furniture.

“My Lady, I have brought you news as I have promised,” Commander said stopping before her and making a deep bow. His armour creaked and clanged as he did so.

Mistress’ eyes narrowed on her servant. “What does this mean?”

Shea glanced at Commander, uncomprehending. News? What was this about? The large man was smiling now. It sent shivers through her body. For some reason it scared her more than his previous scowl.

But before she could dash away, or say anything, the man turned on her. He grabbed a pouch by her belt. It tore, scattering all her possessions and the man held up his prize.

“Look at this, my lady,” he told her, presenting the pouch. She frowned but took it.

Opening, her eyes went wide. She took out the apple, staring at it as if seeing a ghost. “This… this is…” Her voice broke as she took out the beautiful round red apple. She brought it out like a priceless treasure, sliding her thumb back and forth over its surface.

She bit into it. Daintily. Then forgot everything and took large mouthfuls. The apple didn’t last her half a minute. It was gone that fast.

After finishing, she licked her fingers and sighed in contentment. “That was bliss... I forgot how good fresh fruits tasted.” As she said the word ‘fresh’, her mind caught onto something. Slowly, she straightened in her chair and focused her faze on Shea. “You did this?” she asked, her voice full of repressed anger.

“No,” Commander said instantly, the smile on his face even wider. “It’s that weasel’s doing. He comes to your house, compliments your table and then returns to shape the best of meals for those nobodies.”

“Is that true?” the Mistress asked, returning her eyes to Shea.

She nodded, shivering. The currents around the Mistress were rolling in furious streams. They left their beds and circled the lady like guardian spirits. Shea could see the woman did not use the wild currents, having been taught to contain a large pool of Energy within, but that changed nothing. Uncaring, the Energy streams surrounded her. In case there was a need. In case she forgot herself and needed their assistance.

And with Shea’s answer the Energies went mad. They lashed in all directions, obscuring the sight of the Mistress altogether. Usually they were see through, like thin coloured glass. Now there was nothing transparent about them. It was like a thick cloth covered the Mistress in a protective cocoon. An angry, roiling cocoon.

“When did it start?” a voice ground out from within.

“When.. When he came…” Shea answered quickly, staggering in her rush to reply. She was terrified of the power shown in front of her eyes. At home, no one taught her the protocol between shapers of different strength. But common sense told her she needed to do whatever the woman asked of her. It was her only chance of leaving this room intact.

Silence met her answer, and scared that it wasn’t enough, Shea continued. “Iago shapes every morning to give survivors food. It’s been two months since they’ve run out of anything edible and been livings solely on his mercy. Without him, there wouldn’t be a single person alive!”

“That so?” the voice mused but Shea could see the currents ranging violently around the lady. Her apparent humour was only a mask.

Shuddering, Shea wrapped her hands tight around herself. This was all going wrong. She didn’t come here to talk about the food. Had the Commander lied? He must have. Anger rose in her chest but it soon deflated after noticing the currents.

She was nothing here. The Mistress could snuff her out with barely a thought. Her stomach clenched at the thought. It is going to be all right, she promised herself. This all just looked bad. Mistress would never do anything as crazy as harming her. Right?

Certainty wasn’t something she had a plethora of.

“Leave now, “ the Mistress said in a cold voice.

Commander nodded instantly, grinning, and dragged Shea out. She resisted at first, unhappy the real cause of her coming wasn’t discussed. It was doubtful she’d ever work up the courage to come here again after this. The large man ignored her struggles. He clamped her mouth shut with his huge mailed hand and hauled her out.

Once they were out, he kept on pulling her after himself through the dark corridors. The girl was forced to run as not to fall over. She had a terrible feeling he just might drag her out if she wasn’t willing to run out herself.

Outside he threw her forward. She skidded, faltered trying to catch her balance and fell face first against the cobbles. Laughter came from behind her. “Good job, little girl. Your friend is finished now.” He snorted in laughter again and threw the gates shut behind her.

Pain distracted Shea for a moment. Her elbows were bruised and she’d hit her face on the ground when falling. Blood dripped from her nose in a generous rivulet. With moist eyes, she reached for one of her pouches but found nothing. After another fruitless search she remembered how Commander had torn off her belt with everything, scattering all she had on the floor.

Tears of disappointment, anger and humiliation fell down her face and to the ground. Along with blood. But the girl knew it was pointless. The gates were closed and there was no coming back. She was played like a fool. Commander had no plan to pass her worries to the Mistress. No. He just wanted his revenge on Iago.

And she played right into his hands. Furious, she dabbed at her nose with the sleeve. Such a foolish little girl. Why did she ever believe anyone would help her solve her problems? These were the spoiled, rich folk of the capital. They understood nothing of normal people’s lives.

Travellers often spoke how different life was in the capital but she’d never believed them. People lived there. People like her and her friends, other villagers. Some might be nice and good, some devious while a few disgusting. But that was normal. What could be so special about those from the capital?

Now she knew. Dabbing her eyes with her clean sleeve Shea pushed herself up. Chose to walk towards the new barracks where she lived with the militia.

As she trekked, her mind returned to the newly gained understanding. Everyone from the capital weren’t to be trusted. Iago was a liar and dangerous, she was starting to doubt he really saved the leech just for the sake of saving a life. How could he not understand what he was doing? He was from the corrupted and twisted capital. Part of that sick society.

Mistress was more powerful than anyone had a right to be. And she used that strength to intimidate and threaten others rather than help and ease their lives. The only person of importance to her was her own self.

Commander was even worse. He was ready to twist the truth, lie and hurt others to achieve his goals. He held no compulsion against making others suffer. It brought joy to him. He found it fun. Hearing his victims cry out in pain. To say he was a monster was the same as saying sea was larger than a puddle.

Even in the camp the sight was no better. Mala seemed nice at first but she cared nothing for other people. To her, only those close to her were of any importance. All the strangers could go and die for all she cared. Alec, on the other hand, was too easy to influence. For no reason he started to trust Iago and pushed the whole camp into it. If not for him, the survivors would’ve been less likely to rest their lives in Iago’s cold hands.

Everyone but the lowest of people were better than monsters from the children tales. Only those that had nothing were worth anything. They were the pure ones. The only ones worthy to be saved and protected.

And she had to do it. Alone. No one else could be trusted with this task. They would lie and trick her but she knew it now. No more believing in their beautiful lies. She was going to save this encampment and do it by herself.

She didn’t need the help of those deceivers.

***

Scorpius went up the stairs to find Iago awake. He was sitting on his bed, wrapped in a blanket and rubbing his tired eyes. “’morning,” he muttered.

“Good morning,” Scorpius welcomed him and went to open the curtains. Soft sunlight flitted into the room, alighting the simple surroundings. Noticing Iago flinch from the light, he turned worriedly. “Are you certain you can go?”

“I must,” Iago answered, dismissing his concern and pushed himself off the bed with a muted groan. His body pained him more each day. At first he tried to hide it but Scorpius was quick to notice the change. Less walking, more sitting. Even his beloved sword training became a task rather than a pleasure.

For as long as he was among the survivors, he kept his façade. But it was too hard to keep pretending all the time. Impossible, really. In the end he saw sense and gave up the pretence. For the better. But now Scorpius was forced to see his weakening state and be unable to help in any way.

He grit his teeth, turning away from the thin form on the bed. “You don’t. Your death will serve no one.”

Iago snorted. “Don’t bury me yet.” He stood up, slowly, and dressed in his loose shirt and pants, throwing a cloak over the top. It hid his diminished form and the recently acquired sick paleness. There was also the added bonus of being able to grimace in pain without anyone noticing.

Together they left the tower and went towards the canteen. It was still early and there was no one in the streets. A welcome quiet in Scorpius’ view.

It was soon destroyed as Urri noticed their approach. She quickly rushed toward Iago, chattering about what she wanted. “.. beef steak, lots of it. I want to make something special today. It was such a dismal day yesterday. Oh, and as always some potatoes! I’m going to mash them and present together with the beef. A bit of bread would be great too! The black, hard kind. It fits best with mashed potatoes. Just not too hard. The elders’ teeth aren’t hard enough to eat it..”

The rant lasted for over five minutes. It circled and changed, repeating itself at times. Scorpius was certain that Urri hadn’t thought about anything prior to this second and was just saying whatever came to her mind. His anger rose at her carelessness but Iago signalled him to stay quiet.

He grit his teeth and waited. Glowering. Yet the cook took no notice of it. She was too engrossed in her imaginary meal plans to pay attention to her surroundings.

By the time she finished, Scorpius was ready to eat her himself. Just to shut her up.

“All right,” Iago said in a calm voice with a nod of his head.

Urri clapped happily and took a step back, giving Iago space. The shaper lowered himself to the ground without hurry. His moves weren’t disjointed in a clear manner that something was wrong but Scorpius noticed the reluctance of the actions. It pained Iago just to bend downwards. Just how weak was he now?

Turning away from the shaper bent over a bucket of sand, he fisted his hands by his sides. These people were so heartless. They didn’t pay attention whatsoever to how much their needs cost another. It was irrelevant as long as they could survive themselves.

Way too careless. If Iago worked himself to death, what would happen to them? They were dead people walking without his assistance.

Movement past the door caught his attention. There was a person quickly walking towards the canteen. When it was closer, Scorpius recognised Mala. What did she want here?

Iago sensed something was wrong and released the currents. “What is it?” he asked in an undertone.

“Your priestess is here,” Scorpius answered without hiding his disgust.

The shaper sighed and pushed himself up. His breath hitched at the effort but he managed to stand up. Scorpius watched him from the corner of his eyes, noting a moment of dizziness. But it soon passed. Satisfied that everything was as good as it could be, he returned to watching the approaching female.

She was almost here. A couple strides more and she passed through the door with an air of superiority. Discounting Scorpius in an instant, she said her greetings to Urri and bowed to Iago. Her whole visage lit up upon noticing him standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back.

“Master!” she said joyously. Then her face took on a very solemn look. “Master, I have a huge request of you.”

“What is it?” Iago asked without bothering to try and correct her. He was neither her master, nor the prophet she claimed him to be but she was blind to both reason and logic.

The self-proclaimed priestess bowed again before him. “Our water reserves are running out. We will need to trouble you to call the rain again.”

Scorpius gawked at her. Was she for real? Her voice did not break when saying it. Neither was she snickering, or her face muscles twitching. It couldn’t be. Not even she could be this delusional. Could she? There was only seriousness in her face.

“You- you’re mad!” he couldn’t resist stating.

His reward for that was a chilling glare. “Shut up, you sc-”

Before she could finish Iago spoke up. “Quiet Mala. I won’t have you insulting my friend in my presence.” His voice was still calm but this time deceptively soft. “You will be better served to keep your opinions to yourself.”

Mala spluttered in outrage, anger painting her face red. “I - You - He’s a nob-!” A slight shift in Iago’s posture was enough to make her bit the last word off. Scorpius felt an immeasurable sense of satisfaction watching her stutter without cohesion.

A shadow of a smile touched his lips, but he made sure to hide it, lowering his head a bit. It wouldn’t do to let her see his amusement. With her character, she’d think of something to annoy him to no end.

Her freezing look found him standing without an expression, watching the proceedings with an air of boredom. It infuriated the woman, her colour raising even higher, but she no longer said anything. Instead she returned her eyes to Iago. “Will you, please, bring the rain back?” she grated out.

Iago’s shoulders slumped at the question. He was no mystic that claimed to be able to change the weather. The only thing he could do was start shaping water too. Use up more of his already waning power.

“Get out,” Scorpius hissed in a low voice. Mala turned to him, disdain clear on her features. She opened her mouth to mock him, no doubt, but he did not wait. Picking her by the waist he unceremoniously threw her through the door. Her shout of indignation was music to his ears.

He turned towards Urri and pointed to the door. The older woman quickly understood what was to happen if she resisted and scurried outside. Scorpius slammed the doors shut behind her.

“You’re not shaping water too,” he declared to Iago in a threatening voice. There had to be a limit. These survivors would bleed him dry if they were given the freedom. And Scorpius had had enough. Those people were doing nothing but free-loading. Expecting to live off Iago without any responsibilities until the day of their death.

“Without me they’ll soon die out,” Iago said in a tired voice. Without anyone else present he took two steps toward a wall and slid down by it to the ground. He rested his head against the wall, pushing the cowl back to have a better look at Scorpius.

His words brought no compassion from the nosferatu. “Then let them. If they can’t do anything by themselves, they don’t deserve to live.”

One side of Iago’s mouth lifted up in a wry smile. “I suppose too much of a good thing can be harmful too.”

“It is. And you’re dying because of it!”

Scorpius was glad Iago didn’t refute the matter. Didn’t lie to him again. It was beyond obvious to anyone who took a closer look, how taxing the shaping was for him. He was growing weaker each day. And his hair. To his surprise, Scorpius noticed a few strands had turned grey among the rest of bronzed ones.

His anger subsided. What could he do? Iago simply didn’t listen to him. No matter what he said, it was either ignored, or opposed. Until now. A small voice in his mind whispered that maybe Iago was too weak to even refuse help. Scorpius shut that voice in an instant. It couldn’t be that bad. Not yet at least.

“Help me stand up,” Iago told him and Scorpius moved to give him a hand. The shaper was light as a feather. The little kid Scorpius had befriended weighted more than Iago in this state. “Go talk to Alec. Maybe you two can come up with a solution.”

“What?”

“The water problem. As you say, I cannot take up more work without wasting away that very same week,” Iago said with a sigh. His tone was resolute but not happy. “But I can’t let everyone die either. So find it. Find another way for the people to survive.”

Scorpius wasn’t happy either. What if he didn’t find a way to solve this matter?

Yet, he knew it was more leeway than Iago would normally give. He wanted to be the sole reason the camp was alive. For his plan - whatever it was - he needed the absolute control. Still, it wouldn’t come to fruition if he found himself dead before the final act.

“I’ll do it,” Scorpius promised. Iago nodded absent-mindedly, already lost in his considerations. After a moment he remembered his current task, finished shaping and Scorpius led him back to the tower. Once he was safely in his room, Scorpius went to find Alec. They had a lot of work to do.