Asrael had to shield his eyes as an explosion of bright white illuminated the entirety of the castle- its luminance blinding enough to pierce even the black bricks. He braced himself for an inferno, but neither heat nor rhapsody followed the flash. Instead, he felt sick to his core- exhausted and violated, as if electrical currents had licked across his body and molested every cube of his tissues.

Both he and Kester had been unprepared for the massive burst of magical energy, which only added to their suffering. Both had dropped to the floor, where they were left to soak in the waves of miserable, invasive magics. Asrael succeeded in barely opening his eyes to see five distinct bodies of blinding light- pulsing and ejecting a bright white. He had never felt nor seen anything like it- he hadn’t even expected anything could ever exude such power. But the implications were there, ready for his overactive mind to interpret within an instant.

He and Thomas, alongside the rest of the Tower, had long spoken of the theoretical phenomenon that they were now forced to behold, but he had imagined none could be capable... nor as cruel... as to succeed in the impossible, but the astounding pressure of magic could only mean one thing...

As his eyes readjusted to the darkness, he stared out on a thick mist of a congealed mess of colors. Brown, red, white and blue swirled about in the air above the dying, white light of the runes in the floor. Asrael fell back- his mouth agape with the shock.

Ahead of him, Marlena grinned and watched the black-robed figure scuttle to his feet with profound unnerve written across his face. When their eyes met, he found it difficult to form the words to properly convey his gut-wrenching disgust.

Kester was, like Asrael, disturbed by what he had just seen and was currently observing. The swirling masses of thick energy were unlike anything he had ever seen- radiant and glorious in the light they exuded, but... as with Asrael, it made him sick to his stomach to watch it. He glanced over at his companion and felt his nausea worsen as he saw the contorted grimace.

“What the fuck is that!?” Kester shouted through the ringing in his ears. Asrael felt the hum of the floor die down- slowly. The necromancer raised his hand and watched the streams of congealed energy flow around his fingers- verifying his suspicions. He had never thought that he would be surprised to see an abomination such as the one now intertwining its plasmatic fingers between his, but he could not deny the overwhelming force sparking between the pores of his skin and the chromatic plasma.

The tavernkeeper continued to be stumped as Asrael looked up at the malign Marlena and shook his head with disbelief. “That, tavernkeeper... is an abomination...” Asrael wafted the swirls away and quickly turned for the door. Nota stepped out from the swirling cloud to put a hand on the necromancer’s shoulder. He froze for but a moment before turning his head over his shoulder to glare at her and demand: “Unhand me, violator. You can tell your Master that I will have no part of this- even I have my limits.” He jerked his shoulder away from her and saw her pained frown deepen.

Before she could grab him again, Marlena laughed a deep hum. “Let him go, Nota. Master Thomas has no use for those of weakly statures.” When Asrael decidedly continued to depart from the chamber, Kester knew beyond all doubt that something had shaken the necromancer to his core. For him not to protest and proclaim his genius, when faced with diminishing words, he had to be deeply disturbed.

Neither necromancer nor tavernkeeper spoke a word as they made their way around the doorframe and out into the hallway, but the two women standing amidst the streams of glinting, chromatic fog had words to exchange. Marlena- ever playful- brushed her hair over her shoulder and chuckled, before speaking to her golden-haired associate’s back: “This is not the time. We will have him, but not now- Thomas was quite specific.”

Nota bit her lower lip and hesitantly nodded her agreement with the correction, but had corrections of her own to offer. “Why did you ask me to do that? You saw him- he was repulsed! How are we going to get his assistance if-” Another off-handed giggle from her companion stilled her protests.

“We are not going to ask for his assistance. He will have no choice but to give us what we need... As for why I decided he should see it for himself, I suppose you could chalk it up to my curiosity. I suppose I wanted to see whether he is all that Thomas claims- to see if he could understand it, as we do.” Nota hesitantly accepted her companion’s reasoning and folded her arms atop her chest. Drumming her fingers against her upper arm, she asked:

“And? Were you satisfied with the result? Did he live up to your expectations?” Marlena shook her head to flagellate the chromatic mist with her impressive locks of black hair and scoffed.

“Not in the least.”

Down the hallway, Eleanor had just finished screaming into her pillow, when she heard the hurried taps of shoes in the hall. For hours, she had twisted and writhed in the bed- unable to find the comfort that Neda had gone on and on about as she had combed her hair a few hours previous. She should have known, as soon as she saw the skimpy underwear peeking out from her dress, but in her state of dulling exhaustion, she had failed to put the pieces of the heart-rending puzzle together... at least until Neda had leapt from the bed, snapped the air and opened her gown to display the scant underwear to proclaim: “All right! Tonight, I’ll finally get him to do the fuck with me!” Eleanor had blinked several times- confused and weary, as her companion had bounced her oversized bosom- as if to taunt her younger companion.

“W-what? You said you were just gonna eat-” Neda seemed uncaring for her associate’s questions and turned her attention on the mirror above the girl’s desk. She spun about in place as Ellie racked her mind for words to repair this situation and keep her small wedge of a body between her Master and the lusty, busty Blightlander. She remained seated on the bed, her mouth agape with disbelief. Though her mind was primarily burdened with doubt, she knew Neda well enough to suspect that the stubborn woman could move mountains, should she put her heart to it.

Neda finally closed the gown and took a deep breath of air to steady herself. By the end of the evening, she would no longer be a maiden- she was sure of it. For days on end, she had worked to widen the cracks in Asrael’s defenses and after a quick meal, she would drive her claws into him and seal the deal- once and for all. Spinning about her axis, she spoke her farewell: “Thanks for the hair-stuff, Ellie! I’ll tell you all about it, when-”

Eleanor, despite her exhaustion, shot up from the bed and shouted a protest of panic before Neda had even begun to move across the floor. “N-no, w-wait!” Although Neda had precious little more time to waste, she had to accept that the girl had helped comb her unkempt hair and, as such, she owed her to at least listen to her protest. Her red eyes met the girl’s dark irses with confusion.

Ellie had frozen. Her jaw slightly agape, her freckled face somehow paler than ever. “Y-y-you c-can't! I-…" Neda turned around and cocked her head curiously and questioned: “Why not?” Eleanor should have known this to be the next question. She stood from the bed and nervously cleared her throat- her cheeks finally flushing a deep red as she stuttered:

“W-well... you see... I-it can be dangerous if you don’t know how! You can get sick- or even worse – pregnant!” She spoke forebodingly. Curiously, Neda raised her right hand to stroke her chin, before she looked down to the floor and nodded her understanding.

“Yeah, you’re right... but he knows, right? He knows all sorts of stuff- I'm sure he’ll know what to do!” Ellie’s knuckles cracked as she tightened her fists to her sides. Before Neda could turn around, her young associate shouted: “N-No, I don’t think he does!” Neda raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. Eleanor was acting outside of her usual self- no longer the calm, collected psychopath she had come to know, but rather, she seemed distressed.

The Blightlander spoke an accusing: “Hey... why are you being so weird?” Ellie swallowed the contents of her dry mouth and jerked her head sideways to stare at the dimly lit wall.

“W-what? I-I'm not. I’m just being a good friend, all right? I’m just trying to save you from making a fool of yourself. I-I mean, do you even know how to pleasure him?” This did little to appease nor calm the increasingly more suspicious Blightlander.

“I do! You’re just trying to keep me here, because-…" Ellie could almost hear Neda’s mind whirr as she attempted to make sense of the girl’s motivation. When she finally understood, her jaw dropped and her red eyes turned viciously narrow. Raising an accusing finger, the Blightlander professed: “You want him too!”

Ellie did not like being caught unaware. This entire conversation had been akin to a series of ambushes and in her state of ill preparations, she could do little but react with the same malice that Neda showed her. Raising a finger of her own, she shouted: “You’re going too fast! Don’t you think we should agree on something like this!? We’re both his apprentices- I mean, who gave you permission to press your massive boobs in his face!?” Neda gasped, but made no efforts of hiding her impressive bosom. She was well aware of how it enthralled Asrael to see it, which fueled her retort.

Neda shouted back: “So, that’s it! You want him for yourself!? Good luck pressing that flat pan of yours up against him! You don’t stand a chance!” Ellie felt her fury fade as Neda laughed a stinging giggle her way. As opposed to the confident Blightlander, the younger apprentice hunched over- as if it would somehow help in obfuscating her lacking chest.

“T-that’s not it! I’m trying to help you, you horny bitch!” Ellie stomped the floor and leered over at her colleague. It was clear that she was neither falling for the ruse, nor would she even consider postponing her seductions. Neda folded her arms over her chest and shook her head with disappointment- calming herself enough to seem displeased, rather than spiteful. Narrowing her red eyes, she muttered: “If you wanted to help me, you’d help me get him. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t like it... I’ll only tell you once, Ellie. He’s mine- not ours and certainly not yours. D’you get it?”

Ellie remained taken aback with how suddenly the explosion of wrath had come and could find no words to properly express her momentary disdain with the Blightlander for her selfishness. Therefore, she remained stumped and open-mouth- watching as Neda turned, stomped out the door and slammed it shut in her wake.

Hours later, Ellie still found herself screaming into the pillow with both fury-infused terror. It had seemed so unthinkable that the Blightlander could ever succeed in her efforts to seduce their Master, but Asrael had been... different... since their escape from Pilta. To some extent, he had seemingly softened- at least towards her... the care he had shown for her hand and the risk he had taken in asking for his detested, ancient nemesis’ assistance all but proved it.

She lay on her back- staring up at her now-healed hand and dared imagine it resting in Asrael’s lap again, as it had throughout their wild ride towards the castle. The doubt clouded her mind with its choking, black fumes- reminding her that, perhaps, this care was not exclusive to her, but also something she shared with the Blightlander. The thought made her stomach churn. She was, undoubtedly, the wiser and most useful of them, especially now that her hand had healed. With time and under his guidance, she truly believed herself capable of greatness, but what did Neda have to offer, save for her fine exterior.

Eleanor clenched her fist with dread at her sinful thoughts. Neda was not her enemy- they were friends, or close to it, at the very least. If only they could debate this calmly and with control- if only she could explain her worries without the Blightlander storming out of the room, then perhaps they could reach an agreement... alas, Neda was far too impulsive to be trusted to ever debate anything.

She felt her tears well up again as she imagined her Master and the ill-favored woman. If Neda succeeded, then why would her Master wish to keep her around? What use could he have for her, if his monogamous attention was entirely devoted to the well-bosomed Neda?

Ellie screamed into the pillow once more and ignored as Barrel’s boots stomped down the hallway to tear her door open. She raised her head from the soft bedding to reveal her puffy eyelids, the red eyes and long tendrils of snot. To her surprise, she somehow still looked better than the small, round man peering in through the narrow crack in the door.

As she had; he, too, had obviously wept and was still sniffling as he crept into the thin slit of illumination- his eyelids swollen and as red as his cracked lip. The two came to an immediate, silent understanding- that none would speak a word of the other’s unsightly condition, but Barrel still had orders to convey to his teary-eyed companion.