Asrael sat in Thomas’ revolting study-hall, atop a soft, deep fringed-fabric chair and studied the contents of the tome in his hands. Behind him, Ellie rubbed her chin and looked up at the unendingly tall bookcase- hoping that one of the hundreds of books would speak to her, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Neda sat with her legs crossed and appeared more miserable than ever, lazily flipping through the pages of a book of her own. Every now and then, she would huff and sigh, but Asrael paid her no heed. It was not that he hadn’t heard her- he was not deaf. But he had to avoid her gaze as to not fall for her spell once more... nor did it tempt him to talk about the events leading up to Ellie’s interruption.

“This is so boring! Can’t we go eat, already!? You promised!” She finally protested. Asrael shook his head as he continued reading about the fineries of metallurgy.

“I never promised anything, but in order to quiet you, I agreed to your plea- an agreement I intend to fulfill, when the food is ready.” She sat up in her chair and scooted back and forth- satisfied with this answer. “Oh... well, as long as you’re not backing out, then.” She turned over her shoulder to see Ellie’s infuriating sideways smile stare back at her over the lanternlight. Neda extended her tongue and lowered her brow- a gesture paid back in full by the dark-haired apprentice.

Without looking up from his book, Asrael spoke: “If you two are not intent on assisting me, I ask that you leave me to my work.” Ellie grimaced, whereas Neda assumed her most gracious stance on the chair.

“I’m helping- see? Book!” She motioned for the book in her lap. Sighing, Asrael leaned over and turned it the right way up, before informing: “You have been reading about venerology for the last two hours- you have yet to find a book all-together. If this is your idea of helping me, I cannot imagine how you imagine being in my way would appear...” Asrael paused, before mumbling: “Oh... I suppose I do. It ended with me being violated and Eleanor’s arm being savaged.” As much as both his apprentices enjoyed hearing what appeared to be bemusement tinging their master’s voice, they had their own reasons for not laughing.

“Ah, I was hoping I would find you here. Did you enjoy the room? I once denied a request from the Emperor himself to revisit that chamber, you know.” Neda and Ellie saw Asrael’s fingers tense on the book, yet he spoke relatively clearly... calmly...

“The accommodations are fine. I particularly enjoyed the mirrors, though I dare not imagine their use.” Thomas laughed aloud and nodded.

“Some enjoy watching, others enjoying doing. Please, would any of you like some wine? I will have the servants-” Asrael could feel the excitement of his companions as the offer was made.

“No. Neither of them will have any alcohols, either.” Thomas raised an eyebrow and eyed the two disappointed women up and down.

“Ah, I see. You are expecting, then?” The handsome version of her Master asked Neda. Struggling to understand whatever he was referring to, Asrael answered in her place.

“No. Her impulse control is abhorrent enough when she is sober, I cannot imagine what alcohols will do to her.” Asrael was no fool. He could sense Thomas’ desire to speak to him alone, but he would not be seen as eager to fulfil the man’s desires. When he figured he had made his point, the necromancer raised his hand and dismissed the two women with a jerk of his palm.

“Leave us.” As expected, Neda did not freely accept his orders without question. She clapped the book against her thighs and demanded: “But you said we’d eat!” Asrael forced his eyes shut and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Of course I will let you have him back when dinner is served, Lady Neda. We’ve much catching up to do, but much of it can wait- we've all the time in the world, after all, yes?” Neda scowled at the two men in turn and took note of Asrael’s guilt-tinged staring into the book. Crossing her arms, she strode up to the chair and glared at the pair in turn.

“Fine... I’ll go wash. But if you skip out on this one, I’ll get mad. Like, real mad.” Ellie stood out from the books and grabbed her associate by the elbow before insistently leading her back out towards the body of the castle.

Now, on their own, Thomas took a deep breath and clacked his fine leather shoes across the floor, where he sat down in the chair opposite to Asrael to grin over at his ancient colleague. They folded their legs as the necromancer clapped his book shut and met the alchemist’s green eyes. Between them, the lantern provided extra light to illuminate their vastly different, yet somewhat similar features. Had one been cursed with myopia, once might’ve looked at them from afar and imagined them brethren due to the similarity of their black hairs and powerful brows. From up-close, however, they could not be any more dissimilar- one being handsome, the other horribly ugly.

Thomas spoke and stroked the red, soft armrest at his side: “Now, then. Here we are- both still alive in this mad world, seemingly untarnished by the tooth of time.” Asrael raised his folded hands before his face and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.

“I suppose we are. Though by what means, I wonder.” Thomas mirrored Asrael’s folding of his hands and nodded.

“Your pallor and your habit of only breathing when you speak hints that your Necromancy has, somehow, succeeded in animating your dead flesh.” Asrael silently cursed his once-colleague for his observational capacities, but before he could respond, Thomas grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled it ever-so-slightly down to reveal his proximal clavicle, where a most unusual sight caught Asrael’s eye.

His skin resembled a budding vegetable- covered in polypoidal growths. Lengthy stalks terminated in rounded papillomas so dense he could not see the bone beneath the skin. “I never said my method was free of side-effects. Though I am not dead, I certainly do suffer for my Gift.” Naturally, academic doctrine called for Asrael to reveal a detail of his own. He grabbed the collar of his own robe and dragged it down enough to display the substantial scarring of his chest. Both satisfied that they were making progress, Thomas scooted forward on his chair and aired:

“I have hundreds of questions, but I suppose that, for now, I would like to reminisce over those days of old... if you will entertain me, that is.” In response to his associate’s scoot forwards, Asrael scooted back on his chair and agreed.

“I see no value in discussing ancient history, but if you are so inclined... talk.” He motioned- earning the bemusement of the alchemist. Smiling his benign smile, Thomas chuckled. “I am glad to see that you have changed little, old friend. I, for one, have buried our hatchet long ago. Us being adversaries certainly served to motivate us, but... it also distanced us.” Asrael could think of more than a few reasons to why he felt distant from his socially apt nemesis, but allowed the man to continue. With a wink, Thomas spoke: “I have spent countless hours pondering the Answer. It has been thirty years since I ingested the compound that secures my continued health and youth and do you know what I have discovered, old friend?”

“That you’ve far too much time on your hands?” Asrael could not contain himself and once again seemed to bemuse his companion, whose reaction came in the form of a scoff and a nod.

“Amongst other truths, yes. But more importantly, I’ve come to realize that neither- and both- of us were wrong.” Asrael resented the implication that he was somehow wrong- especially when it was suggested with such confidence and such nerve. Sensing that the necromancer was, if nothing else, intrigued, Thomas rose up from his seat to pace about- clicking his shoes against the dark granite as he explained: “Think about it, Asrael. My method can refresh tissues and make a heart beat forever, whereas yours seemingly induce a stasis- one in which a heart needn’t beat. The malformation I showed you might never have happened if we could have combined our methods- induce a stasis, yet reinvigorate the core, as I have.” Asrael cracked his knuckles ponderously.

The necromancer slumped down in the chair and looked to the alchemist down the ridge of his nose. “You’ve changed, Thomas. I find it refreshing that you, for once, skip the pleasantries and go straight to the matters at hand.” Asrael, however, still struggled to see what reasons either of them would have for combining their strength. Before he could voice his doubt, Thomas spoke:

“And you are as doubting as ever. Before you ask, I will inform you that these growths spurted this morning. I have already planned to remove them come nightfall, but you can understand how this affects me. It is both painful and time-consuming to constantly trim my flesh.” Asrael changed legs to cross and smirked sideways.

“And what of me? How would it benefit me that we attempt to combine our magic? I would rather not trim my flesh, either.” It seemed Thomas had considered this for some time, as he was quick to answer: “Why, life, of course. Would you not like to feel your heart beat again- to drink, eat and... well, I’ve seen your companion. I am certain there are things you wish to do to her that would be far better if you were still alive.”

Asrael grinned maliciously as he informed: “Oh, I am more than capable of fornicating- I have tried it and although I do not remember much of it, I am certain it was adequate. Surely, you can do better than that, Thommy.” Thomas was hardly surprised that Asrael harbored some bitterness- they had a history of bitter squabbles... at least Asrael did.

Chuckling, he suggested: “Very well. I’ve funds- is that it? Have you given up that stick in your rectum for greed, Asrael?” The necromancer did not conceal his irk or offense. Instead, he snorted a laugh and spoke: “Of course not. I’ve no need for gold... what I want is information. Tell me, Thomas... what is your role in this Inquisition? I’ve already seen your handiwork- those potions you have prepared for some of the Purged. But that is not all- it cannot be.”

The dashing alchemist was not caught unaware. As usual, he handled the confrontation with cool and repeated his earlier statement: “I have had to do unsavory things to secure my survival. It has not been easy- not in terms of probability and certainly not in relations to my conscience. But what, my dear friend, if I offer you another wisdom, instead?”

Asrael raised a curious eyebrow and nodded. “And what does this knowledge pertain to?” Thomas seemed to have expected this- waited for it and prepared himself to dangle it in front of Asrael’s face.

“The Capitan Rift.”