The sound of creaking wheels echoed down the hallway built within the king’s chambers. Its prisoners easily caught a glimpse of the newest item being added to Neryx’s collection. A massive cocoon, maybe large enough to fit a person inside, had attached itself to a pushcart.

“That’s… Different,” whispered Alton.

Zaniyah glared as Neryx walked past. “I told you to burn that body,” she growled between her teeth.

Neryx was occupying Dorian Buttonweed’s corpse today. They paused for a moment if only to flex their arms. “How else was I supposed to get this up the stairs without muscles like these?”

“You can start by jumping back into that dumpster fire of a body of yours and learn to lift some weights,” spat back Zaniyah.

Neryx crinkled their nose. “... What’s a dumpster?”

“A large receptacle used for keeping trash,” calmly replied Vincent.

“You mean Fogbloom doesn’t have dumpsters lying around? Do you just throw your trash on the street and call it good?” Zaniyah was disgusted by the idea.

“It is clear that the capital has yet to learn basic civility,” replied Vincent.

Zaniyah nodded her head. “Suppose that explains why the place smells so bad. We don’t even get windows around here and the stench still finds a way to drift in.”

Alton took this opportunity to get a better look at the cocoon. There was a buzzing in the back of his head, like something was telling him that it was somehow important. It was like there was this word or phrase that was on the tip of his tongue or a nameless concern that was floating in his mind.

There wasn’t any mention of Laurent’s visit, so Neryx must have not noticed that they weren’t the only one that had come up here. Neryx had been their sole caretaker for the duration of their stay. Luckily, they couldn’t tolerate Zaniyah’s abrasive personality. They only lingered long enough to drop off food.

“Speaking of throwing trash out onto the streets,” said Neryx as they leaned against the bars. “I’m going to be removing two pests from my chambers.”

“It’s all or none of us,” hissed Zaniyah.

A scoff escaped Neryx’s dry lips. “You’ll stay as one happy little group once I’m assured that my secrets remain mine to keep.”

Message received loud and clear. Talk of Lydia and Neryx is forbidden. Zaniyah gritted her teeth. Fogbloom was so much worse than Carapace. Once she left this place, it would definitely take some kicking and screaming to get her to return.

“... We’re not a part of your collection,” muttered Zaniyah. “I’m not going to let you hurt either Alton or Vincent!”

“Then stand up and do something about it,” quipped Neryx. “Otherwise, you.” They pointed at Vincent. “Back up anything you and the girl need. I’ll be back for you two later.”

A dry whistle escaped their lips as they began to push the cart down the hall again. Vincent silently began to straighten up their cell while Zaniyah silently cried to herself. Alton felt a chill up his neck. He was imagining his death and eventual possession by a necromancer who enjoyed playing dress-up with their collection of corpses.

Zaniyah continued to sniffle. “I-I don’t want to leave you here.”

“Get Chi to fix your legs,” replied Alton. “Then you can worry about busting down the palace doors and saving me.”

She hated this. Zaniyah didn’t want to wait. Her legs might’ve been better already if Iath wasn’t a dumbass who tried to split his power between herself and Vincent. He hadn’t even contacted Vincent since they tried to save her in the hospital.

That twisted feeling of turmoil didn’t fade by the time Neryx returned. Vincent carried her down the stairs and to a wheelchair. He then pushed her down the hall until Neryx paused by a door. Without waiting for further guidance, Vincent headed inside.

It was a room that had belonged to several princesses along the royal bloodline. The last occupant to own it was a teenage Elbellziara. Traces of her still laid throughout the room, from the color of the curtains to the old dresses that still hung up in the closet.

“Your room is elsewhere,” said Neryx from the doorway. “Servants do not share a room with their masters.”

Vincent’s hands slipped away from Zaniyah’s wheelchair. “Understood.”

“But I need him close by to take care of emergencies and stuff!” Zaniyah argued.

Neryx was in the body of a maid this time around. They grabbed the edge of their skirt and curtsied. “Those like me will serve a lady such as yourself. You’ll have your needs taken care of.”

Zaniyah struggled to stand up from her chair as the door closed behind Neryx and Vincent. She managed to force herself to her feet and stumble towards the door. “Hey!” She collapsed against the door, jiggling the locked doorknob first before resigning herself to bang loudly against it. “Don’t take Vincent away from me!”

The door rattled against her fists. If she had full use of her legs, it wouldn’t be able to withstand her. Zaniyah gritted her teeth and looked around. There had to be something that would help.

She caught a glimpse of a dress that had been folded up on the table. That was the dress she wore to the ball at the palace. Her letter was sitting next to it. Zaniyah’s knees gave out as she took a step towards the table. She used her arms to drag herself the rest of the way.

Her letter meant that Alton may have gotten his back too. Maybe even Vincent. Better yet, she could contact Chickadee, Fairy, even her own mother to tell her that she was doing well. It didn’t matter if they couldn’t see each other, she’d be fine as long as they could pass a few words back and forth.

Zaniyah ripped the leg off the table and rolled out of the way as it fell to the floor. She snatched up her letter and waited for it to accept her thumbprint. Her letter, as well as the ones belonging to anyone else from the core, were different from the ones they had purchased for Braytons’ squires.

For once, she was grateful that Sybil insisted that she get extra security functions. Sybil would’ve modified Alton’s to have security as well, and Zaniyah didn’t think Vincent ever sent any messages that would put them in danger. She should be fine to say whatever she wanted.

Chickadee. First and foremost. He and Vincent were supposed to meet her and Alton outside of the palace. Vincent had no idea what happened to the mage afterward. Maybe Neryx would’ve gloated if they had done something to her friend but Zaniyah didn’t know. She was purposely being kept out of the loop so that she would mentally be driven into a corner.

“You good?”

Zaniyah’s hands tightened around the letter as she waited for a reply. She felt something small and rough stab into the inner part of her middle finger.

“... Eh?”

She examined the side of her letter. If she hadn’t had felt it, she wouldn’t have noticed it was there, but it looked like someone had pried off the outer shell of her letter at one point. There were matching marks along the corners as well.

Zaniyah didn’t understand what made a letter work, but she knew that someone had messed with it. She furrowed her brow. This was just a test, eh? They were monitoring them through their letters and had separated them so they’d be forced to use them. With Alton being the idiot that he was, he wouldn’t even know that his was messed with in the first place!

This is why she was the smartest one, thought Zaniyah to herself as she nodded her head. Always cautious and the first to notice the smallest details. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as her letter buzzed. Hopefully, she could signal to Chickadee that it wasn’t safe to communicate this way.

“Abhorrent imposter! You will cease your attempts to contact me. Further intrusion will be considered to be a declaration of war!”

Such verbiage could only be Kogin’s doing. Chickadee was signalling that he was safe and with Kogin by having him do the talking. Zaniyah had to think of a reply that signaled that she wasn’t alright but she was doing better than Alton and Vincent.

Now she had to come up with a way for her to sound urgently in need of help without it being obvious. Zaniyah didn’t know how they messed with her letter, but she did know what Sybil did to a classmate’s letter after they bullied Millie one time. She altered it to send duplicate messages to a dummy letter, used it as evidence of bullying, which made the girl lose her apprenticeship to a prominent silk manufacturer.

You know, just your common, illegal invasions of privacy. Something that happened on a semi-regular basis to people who pissed Sybil off… Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Sybil left the core. She had a twisted sense of vigilantism.

Zaniyah shook her head. Now wasn’t the time. She thought it over for another more before sending another message... There. Good enough. Chickadee should be able to get it.

“My… My lady!” A woman shouted from the door.

From her perspective, there was a cracked wooden door, a knocked over wheelchair, and a toppled over table. The maid winced at the horrifying mess before rushing to Zaniyah’s side. Zaniyah stared blankly at her for a moment before reacting. She didn’t have that weird chemical smell that Neryx always had, so she must be human.

“I’m, uh…” Zaniyah grinned innocently. “... Whoops?”

Her plea for help would quickly reach Chickadee’s letter. Kogin scanned the message. “Saint Coraline will remember such treacherous threats.” He held up a finger. “That’s a Carapace tale. Hold on, I’ll check my bookshelf.”

Chickadee let Kogin run from shelf to shelf, looking for whatever book could possibly help them out. He didn’t need it. St. Coraline was an elementalist from the core who had come across thirteen trapped miners in the next mountain over. She brought them food and water, waited for them to get well enough to travel, and brought them to the surface.

The miners brought her to the city. Over the course of several nights, many of the miners propose to Coraline. They soon find out about the other’s intentions and begin fighting over the right to marry the mage, with one of them dying in the process. Coraline chooses to kill herself, choosing to have them maintain their friendship rather than fight over her.

It’s supposed to be a story of feminine virtue, but it was a cautionary tale for those in the core. “Coraline” was a woman named Helga who had found a group of idiots while she was out gathering ore for golem construction. She saved them, only to be rewarded by being kidnapped and taken to the city.

After many attempts to go home, including refusing to tell them her name as well as begging and pleading to leave, she ends up dying in a horrific accident. Helga realized that the outlanders had no intentions of letting her go and attempted to fight her way out.

The outlanders called it a sacrifice rather than admit their mistakes. Those in the core use it as a reason to never help outlanders. Chickadee frowned to himself. Zaniyah used it as code, meaning her letter was being monitored. Even if she said she was fine, they would choose to believe she was being watched.

Zaniyah was being monitored, but she wasn’t being told how to act or what to say. She had been separated from Alton and Vincent. Any attempt to escape would lead to death, possibly to herself or to the other two.

“Tell her…” His voice drifted off as he thought about it. “I will ask for her hand soon.” Chickadee had allies on his side. Ones that, despite having a similar goal, were having disagreements.

Kogin signaled him an okay and Chickadee went back to focusing on the parcel his mother had sent him. Correction, the parcel that Fairy was supposed to deliver when she went to Braytons, but had “forgotten” to give Chickadee so that she wouldn’t be sent home right away. One she had chosen to keep with her when she went to Fogbloom instead of admitting that she had purposely delayed its delivery.

The story of Fairy’s transgressions began on a warm afternoon in Carapace. Talwyn Cully quietly opened the door to the clock shop. Stallis had recently expanded the business to doing repairs on any small, mechanical item as well as blood iron tools. No one would think twice about seeing a blacksmith visit today.

The backdoor opened the moment she reached it. Stallis Twist politely dipped his head. “Welcome.” He quietly said before ushering her inside. “Everyone else is here.”

A table had been set up in Stallis’ workshop. He rarely hosted anyone and was sorely underprepared for today. Tea had been clumsily brewed and he had been wise enough to order a snack platter from a restaurant down the street. While others worried about the purpose of the meeting, Stallis couldn’t help but to worry over the fact that Lydia would’ve handled such business in the past.

Stallis took a seat at the head of the table. On his left were Adrian Toval and Jory, his eldest son. The seats to his left were occupied by Felix and Paladin Victor Tripeak. Victor, Vincent’s grandfather, was the abbot of a local monastery. Talwyn took a moment to acknowledge everyone with a nod before sitting at the end of the table. Everyone then turned to Stallis with a look of anticipation.

“Ah, right,” muttered Stallis. Lydia often handled the taking too. Even small groups like this were enough to make him uncomfortable. “I called you here today because I believe my ward is in danger.” He gestured to Felix, who immediately shrunk in his seat. “A member of Mart’s Mercy has been asking for his whereabouts.”

Victor glanced at Felix before addressing Stallis. “Is he not an orphan? They may be seeking him out to give word about his family in the Violet Region.”

This was already not going well. Stallis originally approached Talwyn for help, who then insisted on going to Adrian. Talwyn insisted that Adrian was better at scheming. After hearing their story, Adrian suggested that they hold a meeting with Abbot Victor.

“Felix is Mart in human form. Regrettably, Mart’s Mercy has a habit of-”

Adrian interrupted him with the raise of a hand. “They’re here to kill the boy. We must find a way to evacuate him.”

A god showed up during a war against merciless monsters from the peninsula. Victor glanced at Felix again, giving him a good stare down this time. He trusted his senses when it came to finding strong people. Felix had wisps of potential, but none of the power he would expect from a several century old god.

“How may I assist?” God or not, this was a child in Victor’s eyes. He should be spared from the violent whims of others.

Adrian began to explain his plan. “Felix will reside in the monastery for the time being. Our associates in Outcore will put out rumors that he fled to them first before moving east to catch a boat to the Coral Kingdom.”

The monastery received supplies every now and again. Visitors had dwindled since the start of the war, and they were few and far between even before it. It would be enough to hold Felix there until the end of winter. His safety could be reevaluated then.

“God or not, he will have to live as a monk during his stay,” said Victor. “That means he will have to agree to follow our schedule. Meditation, tending crops, physical training. I will not show mercy to anyone who seeks shelter within our halls.”

Felix had prepared for the death of this form. Humans were fragile and their lifespans were unpredictable. The brunt of his blood iron, the majority of his power, had been left inside a vault within his Lyrhean temple. If he were to die now, he would remain in torpor for around fifty years before resurrecting within the vault. That was part of the terms he had made with Eatha when they began this game.

Though his time here had been short, Felix had become terrified of the concept of death and suffering. He didn’t wish to experience it. “I’ll do whatever you say, sir.” His goal now was to survive.

Adrian nodded. “I’ll arrange for your transport. Please have your belongings packed within the next hour.” He then stood up, with Jory following his lead.

Felix stayed in his seat “... Kay.” He didn’t like trusting others with this matter. Relying on others to take care of his welfare was a new and uncomfortable feeling.

Victor stood up as well. “I will go ahead.”

Adrian agreed. “We’ll have him delivered to you by evening.”

This was for the best. Stallis thanked everyone present and showed them to the door. He had a few words with Felix before sending him upstairs to pack. Talwyn remained silent and waiting in the room. Unlike the others, she didn’t get up to leave. Her interaction with this affair began and ended with an introduction to Adrian Toval. There was other business that she needed to take care of.

“Thank you for that introduction,” said Stallis as he closed the door behind him. “Are you ready to show me the item?”

“Yes.” Talwyn placed a metal brooch on the table.

It had been crafted from golem grade steel and accentuated with jewels to disguise it as a normal bit of jewelry. The centerpiece jewel had yet to be placed within. Small runes had been carved within this open space.

Stallis retrieved a wool pouch from his pocket and pulled a loupe out of it. He took a moment to place it before his eye and then began to examine the runes. “Exquisite work as always, Mrs. Talwyn.”

“Blood iron,” she replied.

“Still locked within the safen my office. I’ll set it in the brooch before I write a letter with further instructions,” muttered Stallis as he continued to study the piece.

Stallis always had a somewhat estranged relationship with his daughter. She was an obedient girl who took her studies seriously, but that was only because Lydia had encouraged her to do so. Even now, Sybil’s letters to him had either brief or professional in tone, and she hadn’t bothered to write a single word to him since the start of last summer. Even so, he felt he knew his daughter well enough. She wasn’t meant to be a knight.

The designs she had shown him were inspiring. Sybil’s exposure to new ideas and materials had brought out the genius he had always known her to be. Stallis wanted to nurture her intellect and abilities. Her and Chickadee paired together could control the future with machines that would revolutionize the country.

It was an absolute waste that Sybil was overly focused on social injustice and Chickadee was content to do nothing more than make swords in a forge. They were capable of far more than they had set their minds to

This brooch was based on the designs Sybil created for Tyrtain’s vessel. Her grammatical skills still needed work, but they were issues that Stallis corrected when he crafted this item. He twisted the brooch around in his fingers. The last bit needed was the stable energy source provided by Tyrtain’s blood iron. Stallis and Talwyn would have to trust their children to be able to finish what they had started.

“Should we offer advice on what to do after they’ve resurrected Tria?” Stallis handed the brooch back to Talwyn.

“Let the Lady do as she pleases,” replied Talwyn. Tria was a god. She’d be able to manage on her own without some kids bossing her around. As long as this dreadful war ended, Talwyn would consider her involvement in Tria’s resurrection as a worthy investment.

Stallis nodded in agreement. “She has always been one to do whatever she pleases.” He paused for a moment of reflection. “I find myself wary in regards to Tria’s transport. The black market has an increased demand for blood iron.”

People were desperate to get their hands on items that would protect them from tainted beasts. Rumors had been going around that special blood iron was capable of warding them off, and there was a growing market for stolen weapons and materials. Jewelry and protection wards had exploded in popularity.

“Fairy will handle it,” replied Talwyn with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Surely, she is too young to travel by herself,” muttered Stallis.

“Overprotective,” grumbled Talwyn. “Skilled at combat. Clever. Has reason to visit Braytons.”

No one would think twice about Fairy running off to visit Chickadee and Millie. Several of the higher class and richer citizens of Carapace had chosen to evacuate the city ahead of winter. They felt that another would-be attack would be likely. Talwyn would be taking advantage of this trend by having her youngest daughter transport Tria’s blood iron.

Stallis still had his doubts. Dodo Tuma had already reassured him that Fairy was the strongest at hand to hand combat and second in magical casting. He felt thankful that he scheduled Fairy to travel with a caravan as far as Tilrey. They may have chosen to send their daughter off by herself if he hadn’t insisted on a caravan.

“Felix will want to say goodbye to her,” muttered Stallis. “You should call her over.”

He didn’t think that Felix had many friends. Mostly because he skipped school most days, choosing to work in the tailor shop instead. Even if it was by force, Stallis wanted him to say goodbye to the one person his own age that he bothered to keep in contact with.

A single message was enough to send Fairy rushing over with her bag already packed. Leaving Carapace was her dream. This city had become so mundane and boring to her. It didn’t matter where she was going, only that she was going to leave this place and hope to never come back.

“What do you mean I have to come right back?” She stared down at her shorter mother with a crinkle of her nose. “What am I supposed to do when monsters invade the city again?”

Talwyn put a hand on her shoulder. “Literal child. Should be with family.”

She was fourteen. Certainly, she still had a bit of growing left to do, Fairy could agree to that much, but this was supposed to be her moment. Her time to shine. “Walter and Millie are my family too.”

“Will return quickly,” threatened Talwyn in a low and quiet voice.

That fragmented way of speech would later be used by Fairy to travel to Fogbloom. “Let her do what she wants,” wrote Talwyn in her letter to Chickadee. She may have meant that he should let Tria do what she wanted, but Chickadee wouldn’t know about the goddess if Fairy neglected to mention her.

“Say goodbye,” ordered Talwyn.

Fairy’s mental scheming was placed on hold as she grinned at her mother. “Goodbye,” she happily chirped. She then immediately leaned to the left, dodging her mother’s attempt to smack her upside the head.

Talwyn glared at her.

“Right. Say goodbye to Felix,” whispered Fairy. She lifted up her bag and placed it on her shoulder. “I’ll go do that now.”

Fairy trotted up the stairs and opened Felix’s door without knocking. He was sitting on the edge of his bed. Felix hadn’t noticed her enter due to him concentrating on his work. Strands of colorful threads were hanging from his antlers, each connected to a needle made of his mana. They frantically pierced a scarf over and over again as he sought to finish a scarf as quickly as possible.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve put much thought into packing,” said Fairy as stepped into the room.

“I wanted to finish this first,” replied Felix. He began to cut the strings free from the scarf. Dozens of butterflies, dragonflies, bees, and moths had been embroidered over it.

Fairy produced a brooch from her pocket. It was a silver sturgeon with red eyes and scales made of shimmering white glass. She held it out for Felix to take, only to realize that he was holding out the scarf for her to have. They both stared at the other’s gift for a moment before letting out a laugh.

“You’ll be fine in the Coral Kingdom,” said Fairy with a grin. She took the scarf with one hand and placed the brooch in his palm. “They love anyone who's willing to move out of Lustro.”

They liked to Fairy about where he was going. Felix’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments. “I know I’ll be okay.” He pinned the brooch to his vest. “Will you be able to do a favor for me?”

Fairy was already wrapping the scarf around her neck. “As long as I can fit it in my schedule.”

He knew she wouldn’t have much time, but she’d be able to find someone to pull it off even if she couldn’t do it herself. “Miss Sybil has a sword named the Heart of Eishur. Please ask her to deliver it to their rightful owner. She also needs to deliver this letter to them.” Felix fetched an envelope from his desk and handed it to her.”

Fairy read the envelope before tucking it inside her jacket. “... Okay.” She nodded her head. “Don’t worry, Felix. I’ll take care of it.”

One of the first things that Fairy would do after she left Carapace was to steam open that letter. She wanted to give it a good read. It was, unfortunately, rather boring. Blah, blah, blah, go to war and kill all the would-bes, blah, blah, way to be obvious, blahby blah. It was super obvious that the owner of some special sword go out and kill monsters with it. Why was there even a need to write this letter?

Her main goal was to convince her siblings to let her go to Fogbloom. Fairy knew that she could make a killing making large vases for the rich in Carapace. Big things that stored water in summer to smaller ones that held flowers. Problem was, vases and massive jars were an absolutely boring chore and she could only make so many before she ran out of customers. The real money was made in making jewelry and selling it in Fogbloom, where glassworks were far less common.

Better still, Sybil wasn’t even at Braytons. Fairy could come and go from her brother’s squadroom as she pleased, so it wasn’t all that hard to steal the sword. She’d find a way to get it to the rightful owner eventually. Plus, she knew runes and how to work bloodiron. Fairy could absolutely get this god iron brooch to work on her own.

… Except she couldn’t.

If she asked Chickadee for help, he’d find out the real reason why she came to Braytons and send her home immediately. Fairy decided that her best option was to pick up the whole project and take it to Fogbloom. Sword, brooch, she’ll handle it all herself and Chickadee and Millie and even Zaniyah’s only good looking brother would be none the wiser.

And her stubborn habit of keeping secrets was paying off. School was great. Spending quality time with Shaw was completely non-existent, but she had a few years to handle it. Still not a problem. Miss Zoe was here to look after her, so it’s not like her mom would object to her sticking around.

Then everything sort of… Went wrong. It wasn’t her fault, because of course it wasn’t. Zaniyah and Alton were the ones who got themselves arrested. Sybil was the one who killed someone. They probably would’ve done that regardless of if Tria was around or if the right person had that sword.

Yet Fairy felt a tinge of responsibility. She had to make some attempt to fix the minor mistake she had made. Fairy loved Fogbloom. It would take all of her talents and wit in order to set things right again.

“Do you have my money?” Asked Duxton with a snide manner.

Fairy twiddled her thumbs nervously. She had spent the better part of her day selling off wares she had made and running errands. “I had all the money you needed at noon, but then I had to pay off the publishing company and then it took a couple of hours to buy you new clothes.”

Duxton tilted his head. “There was nothing wrong with the clothes I have.”

“Apologies, Mister Duxton, but it’s quite obvious that you’ve never worked with a stylist,” replied Fairy. “You should try wearing something fashionable from this decade instead of...” She waved her fingers at his miserable looking brown suit.

Duxton glared at her before flopping down on the couch. His fever hadn’t gone away like he hoped it would. He didn’t know if it was Fairy or the fever worsening his headache, but he needed both to go away. “Spend the money however you wish. I only need the bills to be paid in full before you waste away our funds.”

The scene hadn’t escaped Kogin’s eye. It was impossible for it to, considering how the prince had made himself at home smack dab in the middle of his studio apartment. He let out a sigh before checking Chickadee’s letter.

“Neither Mister Alton or Paladin Highland have contacted you.”

“They will,” replied Chickadee. At some point, they would try to reach out to either them or Zaniyah.

Though much later than intended, Chickadee was able to complete Tria’s brooch. The final ingredient needed was a bit of Veximarl’s blood iron, which he just happened to have on hand. Talwyn had seemed convinced that Tyrtain’s power source would be needed, but Chickadee disagreed.

Veximarl’s blood iron was enough. He had extracted enough to make several summoning rings, but had only made two. Plenty extra for a brooch like this. It used the exact same runes as the rings did too. The only difference was that he was using a god’s blood iron instead of a tainted beast.

Chickadee finished carving a hole into the center of the brooch and fastened Veximarl’s blood iron inside. He then placed Tria’s blood iron on top of that. The runes along the edge of the brooch began to glow red before fading away again. Perfect. They could continue to separate his friends from him. His retaliation will simply be to accumulate more allies of the utmost quality.