Lysisa ended her stumbling run after the Fifth Cavern; instead of pushing off to continue she leant against the stone wall for support, panting and wilting to the floor. Her heart rapidly beating from the obvious physical exertion and also the sight, which couldn’t be unseen. The rumours … could they be true, the outrageous gossip usually from men with certain … wish fulfilment rather than actual evidence of sightings or such while in public.

The naked bodies, the wanton flesh. What of her and Sweetears then? She enjoyed exploring Sweetears’ body, and truth be told enjoyed Sweetears’ attentions, tentative and coy as the female Goblin embarked upon love making so ‘not Goblin’. Perhaps her running away from what she believed to be their dark secret, an overreaction? Although the sharing … could she lay with anyone except Sweetears? Betray their bond?

Lysisa stood, dismissing the question; the privilege to serve Saph as a Seer or a lowly Single Seer never to be. Return to the Goblin Sisters and the … Twins … how could she, the image of their naked bodies, backs arched in ecstasy and eyes squeezed shut, burnt into her memory, the final straw.

The lantern light splashed down the passageway. Lysisa deciding to follow the light and forget about moral dilemmas and naked twins, reaching the Main Cavern without memory of the journey. Upon arrival she assisted with the door following the instructions of the Goblin Sisters, contributing with small stone shaping and other tasks.

“Your mind isn’t here, and your heart isn’t devoted,” sighed Sweetears, hands embracing Lysisa’s cheeks.

Lysisa curtly nodded, without meeting Sweetears eyes as a shame overtook her, skulking off to her thinking place instead.

The fear a comfortable hum surrounding her, Lysisa thought through the last encounter while here, trying to erase any memory of the other. The Master a false panic, imprisoned and if the beast truly held any power; long escaped by now, or slaughtering the jailors who held him impotent, neither occurring. Lysisa imagined and identified herself as Oneiroi, the Dream Sender. She then calmly contacted the one trapped in the crypt tomb, secure the misidentification would conceal as long as she conversed via dreams.

“Oneiroi you return, I am pleased,” whispered the trapped one.

“Why are you imprisoned? Impotent? Where is our Master?”

Lysisa absorbed the angst, the “wiggling on the end of a hook” reluctance of the trapped one and waited.

“Faithful to our Master for over three hundred years and yet still young and naïve, poorly trained …”

Lysisa grew an anger within her, replaying a specific Mother Superior’s indignation. The rumour reaching the Mother Superior’s ears, Lysisa’s confession confirming the transgression; lingering eyes upon a Daughter of the Duchess and the instant disgust. Then Lysisa’s own rage. The punishment, banishment to the Men’s barracks and only once rumours of her fall became common knowledge did the old bitch reveal the exile temporary. A test she explained, simple and if faithful to the Oath easily passed and yet, failure; a fallen Single Seer.

Lysisa unleashed all the bottled-up fury through their connection. “You should explore and develop yourself, improve and be worthy, not wait to be fed power. You are imprisoned because you are inadequate!”

Contrary to Lysisa’s plan, the contact direct and immediate. The trapped one’s mind contracted, severely chastised, whimpering. “He released me, and I drank in his name to gain the power to free him …”

Lysisa needed to guard her revulsion as the trapped one continued to describe the carnage wrought in detail as the evil creature slaughtered and drank to empower and beautify with the single goal of liberating its Master. The fallen Single Seer withdrew from direct contact, sending a dream of loss, her Seer Twin. The evil enjoyed the dream, accepting the first-person point of view because stolen dreams tended to feature a traumatic moment involving the dreamer.

Somewhere in this exchange he surfaced, realising the fear surrounding him false, concluding even if real how could such a condition affect him in any case. The bindings restricting him, loosened as Lysisa now busy, distracted somehow.

Lysisa sensed him explore with his mind beyond the confines of his gem, unable to stop him while weaving her memory into a dream.

He discovered and touched the new mind, testing the new prospect for weakness and possible liberation from his current predicament.

The trapped one became immediately confused. Part of the dream? No, the contact direct, therefore real. Did Oneiroi plot to betray her somehow, gain favour with their Master?

For a single moment of thought, he savoured the target’s confusion and then he pounced trying to dominate and wrest away control. He realised too late he didn’t do enough investigation. The attack would fail before begun, success impossible due to a single thread of her existence, very feint now, which linked and bound her to another, her Master. For an instant the Master’s impenetrable mind flashed before him briefly exposing two thousand years of domineering existence, his feeble presence saved due to the Master’s deep hibernation and lethargic reaction, withdrawing his panicked mind and screaming back to the safety of his gem.

Lysisa didn’t waste any magic on him, although the distraction proved unfortunate. The trapped one able to distinguish reality and dream state, questing to explore the true nature of the one posing as Oneiroi and once the seed of doubt sown, following the dream path back to attack with malice and attempt to do harm. Lysisa didn’t know how to fend her off as the trapped one invaded her mind trying to dominate her. She drew upon her magic store and thought to construct an imaginary wall and repel the invader.

The void of the gem welcomed him back. Safe within the confines he determinedly squatted in safety. The contest raged around him, her body his link to the conflict and the threat. What if his current host lost, would an evil with an evil Master destroy someone as annoying as him? His mind ventured beyond safely, the Master subdued and a pinpoint in the distance. The contest though evenly balanced. Could he tip the balance? If so which way? The choice simple in the end, deciding better the host you know instead of the evil mind you didn’t and reasonably certain of the consequences. The evil could so easily delight in his destruction by crushing his gem and at least Lysisa seemed prepared to play along a little longer.

His original journey to the Master not in vain, the existence of the feint thread now a promising target. Unlikely to sever the three-hundred-year-old bond, he utilised his remaining magic to block the Master-Servant link, hoping for at least a panic in the Servant to enable his host to gain dominance.

---

The sun blinded him. He didn’t like tasting his own blood or feeling pain in his body. Strangely no pain emanated from the waist down, he seemed to have lost all sensation in the lower half of his body. Every breath though moved his rib cage containing several broken bones, the pain of which needed to be tolerated. Able to swivel his head, he determined he fell into a canyon of some sort. His fall missed a deepish looking lake, unfortunate. A couple of nearby cabins he also missed, fortunate. No, he fell onto a corral, dried horse patties about him and broken corral rails beneath him. Better than a picket he mused.

Several corpses, former Walking Dead kept him company within and without the corral and as if to prove a point, one impaled upon a corral picket. His two loyal servants though lumbered towards him, one dragging a leg, another clawing with hands, both legs broken. He waited until both close enough and drawing upon the magic within the Item gifts he restored their broken bones and various injuries, both straightening to attention awaiting his orders.

Screaming in pain he regretted his first order. His two stupid followers lifted his broken body back onto an equally broken platform. Each lifting a different section and the tenuous join between each section separating, tipping their Master off. Without pause they loaded him onto another section, and both grabbed an end and lifted. At the top of the lift, through clenched teeth he managed to scream, “Stop!”

The modest height increase allowed him to survey his surrounds in more detail. The canyon not a singular course, joined at various intervals by ravines and gorges, one ravine in particular rising, providing a narrow trail or path out. Overall an unusual natural phenomenon and you would need to consider yourself unlucky to be on a set path, which ended over a single cliff face. He did give a thought to his quarry though and if they knew. If so, they would be worth the trouble when he finally sacrificed them with much pain and screaming, much screaming.

He broke away from future promises and returned to the present and the accursed sun. His salvation remarkably close at hand; he pointed towards a cave and his servants obliged. Jostled slightly as they held the platform awkwardly and plodded unevenly, although thankful on more than one occasion they didn’t drop him. With some relief he called a halt and they lowered his broken body into the shadows of the cave. He assessed his body once again, although quickly drew the conclusion more bones were broken than unbroken, especially his legs which he must have landed upon, probably feet first.

As a temptation he tried to animate the bottom half of his body; unsuccessful. Apparently not dead as yet even though lost to him, all feeling and control absent.

The heavy steps drew his attention. From the depths of the cave a large humanoid shape lumbered towards him. Perhaps not directly, he lay to one side and the creature sort the entrance. As he approached the bulk of the man became apparent. Large pallid blockhead crowned by wisps of black hair and flanked by large crinkled ears. A shouldered backpack kept in place by a large callused hand, four stubby fingers curling around the straps. The other hand busy feeding the creatures maw of yellowed teeth with cheese.

“Hey!” called the Dark Priest, not only once, repeated as he approached, walked past and then out over the threshold of the cave entrance.

The creature casually lifted a large rock and carefully placed the load to one side. He then reached into his backpack and dropped a small satchel. The Dark Priest guessed into a hole? Once done he carefully replaced the large rock, the Dark Priest blinked a couple of times, certain the angle and facing exactly the same as before. A hidden cache!

“Over here!” called the Dark Priest as the creature returned on the exact same path, his footfalls almost perfect. Again, ignoring the calls.

Once well within the cave the creature flopped down upon a rock, placed his backpack beside him and began eating another block of cheese. The Dark Priest called out to him again. The behemoth placed his hand around his ear and tilted his head in the direction of the Dark Priest.

Deaf? Hard of hearing thought the Dark Priest? He ordered his servants to carry and position his platform beside the creature.

“Who do you serve?” asked the Dark Priest.

Again, the creature cupped his ear. With great effort and suffering immense pain the Dark Priest shifted into a sitting position, his back supported by the uneven cave wall.

Finally, the creature paid him attention, leaning closer.

Before he could think the creature grabbed his hair and pulled back his head exposing his throat. Trying to command his two servants, only gurgles of blood issued from his mouth, his throat being cut from ear to ear. With the death of the Dark Priest his two servants woke from their bondage. Their first act; to consume their former creator, devouring flesh, bone and his Items. Their feasting nonchalantly ignored all the while by their creator’s murderer, who finished his cheese long before they finished and resumed his Geas.

Far away in a Tower, former servants awoke to their freedom, while dormant Walking Dead, lined up in stacked rows near a collapsed former double story farm manor house obeyed their final command to arise upon their creator’s death and seek the blood of the living.

---

A surprise. The link to her Master strangled. A euphoria of freedom engulfed her, setting mind and will free. Truly liberated, beyond even the unleashing of her chains when wreaking havoc in the town. Upon her escape his yoke of tyranny forever gone.

In celebration the trapped one clenched her fists and the attached fingers dusted. Toes next, legs and forearms shortly after. Already on the verge of destruction, the dried husk, once her body aged rapidly as the link to her Master faded, her existence tied to his. Hibernation during Death Season affording a stay of destruction by lending its strength, unable to assist now and with the first day of Birth Season to dawn shortly an inevitable decline in any case. This decline though, now and final.

She needed to escape destruction, a rage and indignation brewed within as the last of her body returned to soil; she didn’t want to cease. The mind she tried to dominate resisted and her essence, now bereft of a physical form to attach to, began fading, shortly to be no more. Refusing to panic, she searched instead, for anything or anyone weak enough to invade and dominate. None except this accused human. She felt another, although more a presence without a bodily form and therefore useless. Fading from existence, almost extinguished, a familiar evil pulsed within reach, which she rushed towards, a last desperate hope. A welcome greeted her instead of resistance, full acceptance and her existence stabilised, but where?

A magic surrounded her, some consumed upon entry and yet a vast quantity remained. Trying to command the magic a failure, locked away, not lack of skill she concluded. Her presence held within a defined boundary and every attempt to escape beyond repelled and yet the steady pulse of blood washed by her new sanctuary or perhaps prison. The lack of blood the reason for her slow demise and yet now close. Screaming out of her mind in frustration, the lack of sound bringing a new dawn of understanding. She existed without a body. How? Her silent scream reached a new fever pitch.

Then pain, her scream slammed down, mind reeling from confusion as new shackles imposed their will upon her.

“Somehow you have become mine instead of being destroyed, miraculously escaping to a gem. The sapphire once belonged to another of your Master’s servants so perhaps his evil drew you and the stored magic allowed you to find continued existence, possibly by design like the Mage maybe.”

The evil tried to speak. After many attempts a little of the surrounding magic became available to her.

“I remember your ‘voice’, you sent me dreams and duped me. I realise now the servant I thought you to be truly destroyed. I can’t even sense the presence of my Master.”

“Is that a bad thing?” the voice questioned her.

“I am scared and … alone.” Her Master a constant companion, if not beside her, then via their shared link.

“You don’t need to be scared or alone anymore, I am your Mistress and you will obey me and only me.” Lysisa hoped her mind radiated a strength she didn’t really feel. She needed to bluff and bluster, pretend to be commanding. She recalled and channelled each and every imperious Mother Superior from memory.

“Yes Mistress. But I am thirsty how do I drink?”

Lysisa didn’t know the answer. Would an imprisoned being require such sustenance? The gem rested within her flesh and yet no blood transferred to her servant. Perhaps exposing the gem, breaking the skin surface and then drops of blood? Or …

She willed the sapphire to break the skin surface beneath her bellybutton. Within this perfect basin, blood drops from a small thumb prick accumulated, although the bellybutton reservoir never overflowed as the gem greedily absorbed the offering. Murmurings of absolute satisfaction issued from the imprisoned evil.

“Mistress I bond my eternally damned soul to your exquisite blood, and I am yours in absolute service.”

The Mage didn’t overhear any conversation or words of fealty, still he sensed a change, a definite shift in power as the blue gem adjacent and yet too far away, pulsed with a sentient existence. He shuddered in fear and excitement. What would the change mean for his future?

Lysisa all the while maintaining her rigid position against the tomb, time slipping by unmarked.

---

“Lysisa.”

The call, one of many, drifted dream-like across her trance-like state. Feathering her unconsciousness, willing a return until Lysisa snapped back to the real world. An aching neck throbbing as her body relaxed and needing to blink her dry eyes moist while repositioning them forward.

As she focused, the shadow of her crouching Mistress shielded her from the morning sunlight.

“Are you well, are you safe?” Astera asked, while stretching out a hand and not quite touching.

“Are you still you?” asked Niobe, standing opposite Astera.

“I think so, why ask?”

Astera’s hand found Lysisa’s shoulder. “The fear is gone, either due to you or by some other means.”

Lysisa’s eyes stared off into the darkness at the far end of the Cavern. “I am not sure Mistress as I find myself waking up from a dream. I thought myself lost, my mind crushed and yet now …”

Astera stood allowing sunlight to strike Lysisa, who stretched her body in response. “The morning daylight perhaps a trigger? Thyia please reflect sunlight onto the crypt tomb, and Thais, where the sunlight lands and only there, clear away the stone, slowly. Alexa be prepared to repair the stone.”

Thyia hefted the polished shield into position a weak diffused splash of sunlight struck the tomb, while Astera, Niobe and Lysisa stood back. Thais thinned the stone as much as she felt comfortable doing given the unknown depth. Once Alexa and the Goblin Sisters indicated their readiness Thais cleared the last of the stone away. Immediately a cloud of dust exhaled from the tomb, heavy with the smell of death and scent of decay. Undaunted, Thais enlarged the hole to expose the interior, the weak sunlight eliminating the darkness within to reveal an empty, almost wholesome cavity.

The second tomb also empty of evil, although containing significant piles of dust, the aroma of death stronger suggesting the former occupant recently destroyed, aligning with the removal of the fear. With this cleansing, the Main Cavern somehow became more theirs representing a significant victory and somehow thought Astera, Lysisa the catalyst. As hugs and quiet shouts of celebration travelled around the gathered Daughters, Astera singled out Thais and Alexa, whispering a congratulation in choosing the right Items for their new Initiate.

Thais and Alexa supported Lysisa as she draped her arms around them in relief and thanks, confirming she would visit in a day’s time to recount her discoveries.

---

The hibernating body of the Master shifted, not quite a half roll, acknowledging the disturbance as he felt her loss. He barely noticed the destruction of his other servant several days ago and refused to try and contact his errant Dark Priest, determining the cost too high for little gain. The Dark Priest concerned with his own survival and no longer loyal.

The Master drew in the token sustenance offered by the fading nights of Death Season. The waning of Death Season a warning Birth Season loomed ever closer, and therefore Judge’s ascendancy and his rapid degeneration assured without a supply of fresh blood to feast upon.

The end? The twenty Vampire Kings, Princes and Lords would finally gloat over his demise, the favoured one of his and their sire, The Original Vampire. A proven inept inheritor of the twenty-first Dukedom during The Original Vampire’s time of endless wounding. A sly smile escaped his thoughts, would the last Dukedom continue to be a place of intrigue or would the others squabble openly over the last undrained prize?

---

Lysisa released Astera from her embrace. “I wish to bask under the light of the sun, too long have I thought fear and darkness my place of solace.”

“You require company?” asked Astera, inwardly chuckling as she followed Lysisa’s eyes, straying upon Sweetears returning to work upon the stone doors.

“No Mistress, when I am reconciled, I know where that can be found.”

Astera, Thyia and Niobe gathered and observed Lysisa striding confidently from the Main Cavern. Briefly pausing to hug and whisper to Sweetears along the way.

Niobe breaking the silence. “She continues to prove herself, does she not Mistress?”

Astera folded her arms in response. “Yes, although as Mistress I wait until the twins report.”

---

The morning sun, rising from the East behind the town caressed her nakedness with a weak reflected light. Lysisa, content to wait, recalled happy moments to pass the time while laying upon the Stone Curtain Wall. As her Items slowly filled with magic, she granted her tenants a drop of magic each, supplying and contacting the trapped one first.

“I name you Melasia.”

“Mistress I have a name, it is …” She stopped. Sensing her Mistress’ anger build. “Yes Mistress, my name is Melasia. I rejoice and celebrate it. Thank-you Mistress.”

“Do you feel the sunlight upon you?”

“No Mistress, I sense the magic you gift me. I worship your blood.”

“Use my gift of magic to sense beyond your gem and report your discoveries.”

“I wish to keep the magic Mistress it is a comfort to me.” She sensed her Mistress’ anger rise. “I am sorry Mistress I glory in its use in your service. Forgive your stupid servant.”

Time passed and after using over half of the gifted magic her servant spoke.

“I sense no other living mind near you Mistress. I sense no evil and no good. Mistress I thank-you for your gift, your magic is bountiful.”

“Search again and this time focus below us foolish servant.”

Melasia knew of below and above as any flying creature would, she needed her Mistress to assume a false superiority. “I sense two minds, no three, Mistress. The third now joining the two enjoying themselves. I touched them lightly, undiscovered while consumed in their pleasure.” Melasia shuddered. “I remember. Can I linger Mistress?”

Why, thought Lysisa. “Doesn’t the … spying, frustrate you, given you can no longer partake?”

“Blood and sexual pleasure are in my nature and I don’t think I can ignore the lure. Pleasure is all in the mind Mistress … I am … well satisfied and return to you. I am content and pleased to be in your service Mistress. Perhaps I can share with you?”

“Explain?”

“Don’t crush me when I lightly touch your mind Mistress. We are joined by blood and flesh so I should be able to, well share, but only if you permit and don’t repel my mind’s touch.”

Lysisa inwardly nodded, and then relaxed as a replay from first Dirce’s point of view and then Agape’s point of view swept over her mind. For Warrior Sisters their touches and accommodations gentle and considerate, two as one giving and receiving gratification. A third replay commenced, Drosis’ point of view, where Dirce and Agape attended to her, seemingly knowing the most pleasurable locations and exacting techniques to bring their subject to ultimate pleasure. Lysisa gently shut out her servant, ending the replays.

A silence lingered. Lysisa in deep thought, comparing Sweetears and her love making to the replays, believing theirs an ultimate and yet upon witnessing the sight of multiple bodies in ecstasy recently and now the three below them truly pleasuring their partner … her and Sweetears therefore absolute beginners.

Melasia whines. “I am still in awe Mistress and beg you to feed me please I wish to impress you.”

Lysisa observes each drop of blood disappear into the gem and then her servant’s voice returns.

“Check your wound Mistress.”

Lysisa checks. Her thumb now healed. “It is whole, how?”

“Cut yourself again, although I would beg you not to waste the blood."

Lysisa could almost hear her servant salivate as she spoke.

The thin stream of blood from the deep cut never once overflowed Lysisa’s bellybutton, all rapidly absorbed by the gem and then the wound closed up. Just as Lysisa came to admire the clean closing of her wound, her body strengthen, invigorated and healthy. Reaching a finger inside her mouth Lysisa confirmed the sudden ache due to a tooth growing anew.

“If you feed me blood Mistress, I can grant you some of my former vampiric powers. I also know that I am bound to you, just as I was once bound to my former Master. There is a tether, can you feel it Mistress?” She tried to keep her elation from her thoughts, such glorious blood!

Lysisa not only sensed the binding she pulsed magic across eliciting an immediate response.

“Pure powerful magic Mistress, do you see your new servant Mistress?”

Swaying before Lysisa covered in rotting flesh stood a Walking Dead. One of the many bodies used as an alarm animating. Repulsed by the abomination, Lysisa willed the Walking Dead destroyed, relieved as the construct collapsed before her eyes.

“I have displeased you Mistress?” Her voice wavered.

“Surprised.”

“I am sorry Mistress. My spells corrupt, it is my nature.”

Lysisa then pin pricked her thumb and shared the pain down their shared tether.

“Ouch Mistress.”

Lysisa then pleasured herself and shared.

“Mmm … Mistress.”

Satisfied pain and pleasure could be shared along the tether Lysisa stopped her experiment, instead questioning her tenant and probing for fallacy.

“Mistress I am your loyal servant. Our bond strengthens by unknown means, before we shared thoughts and instructions only, this is more. I sense another presence Mistress. I know this other, he separated me from my dying decaying body. I can only sense him because the strength of our bond is growing Mistress. He is like a worm on a hook to me now Mistress I am the stronger, his superior, can I explore his mind Mistress?”

“Certainly.”

“A Mage, Mistress, he didn’t create his soul gem, only naming it so. He has some spells and more he hasn’t learnt in books secreted away. Oh, originally a she. Assaulted by the original creator of the gem, she resisted and the small chest which held the gem, suddenly closed. A special chest Mistress. In fact, the chest crafted to imprison the creator of the gem and when shut severed her path of retreat, the distraction resulting in destruction. She claimed the gem as her portion of the spoils and carried it on her for many years until slain recently and her soul fled to the gem.”

Lysisa fed him some magic.

“How do I have a headache? It seems someone trampled on my memories.”

“It was I worm, Melasia, devoted servant of Mistress Lysisa.” A clear sneer in her retort.

“You sound familiar … the Vampire in the tomb, how come you weren’t destroyed?”

A proud reply. “My Mistress carried the means of my survival.”

More competition he thought. “So, blocking the tether to your Master didn’t destroy you?”

“Your interference destroyed my decaying body, which I am now free of.”

He threw temptation. “Still having a body is good, drink, food and women for a start.”

“Why are you male, instead of your original form?”

“I tired of the attentions of men as a female, so I deliberately looked for a male body when I returned.”

“You have no loyalty to Mistress Lysisa,” she accused.

He smiled inwardly. “Well no, but I am fairly much trapped as I need magic to dominate another and I never seem to have access to the amount required.”

“Mistress is wise in this. You are not worthy of further conversation.”

An ache arose in Lysisa’s womb, unexpected due to the Season, and yet so close to the end, therefore a possibility. She withdrew access to the little magic granted to him, to silence voice and perception. Swallowing down the pain, blood seeped from her womanhood. Lysisa hurriedly placed a loin cloth between her legs, smearing the fabric red.

“Mistress place my gem there, I beg you.”

Lysisa gritted her teeth to ignore the blessing pain and while basking under the weak sunlight willed the gem to break free from behind her bellybutton and shift down, slowly. As the gem approached her womanhood, particular areas responded with pleasure. With a shudder Lysisa settled the gem between two fleshy folds of skin and relaxed in an effort to still her panting.

“Further Mistress, inside slightly and the gem will close off your seepage entirely …” Melasia projected an image of the location into Lysisa’s mind.

“How do you know …”

Melasia couldn’t suppress a mental chuckle. “All women are the same …”

Lysisa continued, the gem finally resting neatly in the centre of a circle of flesh seemingly ideally sized and upon checking, no blood leaked passed, all she presumed, absorbed by her servant.

Several bells passed in an awkward silence. Lysisa embarrassed she didn’t know her body well and not brave enough to ask more or hurry her servant to speak, safe in the knowledge her loyal and faithful servant Melasia would speak when necessary.

Lysisa rested, half asleep, when Melasia whispered gently across her mind.

“Mistress your virgin blood is empowering and perhaps the real secret behind our shared bonding.”

A single heartbeat passed, accompanied by a deep sadness. “I am not a virgin I have sexed with men.”

“Your blood doesn’t lie. I would trust your blood and in fact your body.”

“I remember my deeds. You know them well when I sent my memories to you masquerading as a dream. I entertained many men … I am no longer a virgin and the Goddess Saph has forsaken me due to breaking my vow of chastity.”

Melasia found restraint, holding back her incredulous laugh, realising any ridicule could prove dangerous, in not fatal, deciding to educate the naive instead.

“Mistress, if you will allow, I will share a memory of a man and woman sexing, the woman as a result losing her virginity.”

Lysisa mentally nodded, a certain anxious trepidation escaping and accidently shared with Melasia.

The Single Seer aghast, a hand covering her mouth, eyes closing, although unable to block any inner sight, a highly detailed encounter from the previous debauchery sponsored by her servant in the town of Bircharbor.

“You didn’t lose your virginity Mistress. You serviced the men in the barracks with your mouth while they felt your body. My gem rests in a specific, special place, which only for a virgin remains intact.”

Melasia lost contact with her Mistress.

In the time alone Lysisa thought through all her pain. Her biggest question being did the Mother Superior of the Temple know the workings of a female body. Did she act out of malicious intent or ignorance? Lysisa deciding, how could she not know and therefore the Temple deliberately perpetuated an ignorance amongst the Seers in their care. Lysisa pushed down the anger, as a Single Seer, even as a virgin, she wouldn’t make a difference. Instead she needed to tell someone, or better still a Seer pair the news and only wonder at the ramifications. The memory of Alcmene’s disappointed face, lasting and recalled in this moment.

---

Concern welled up to almost bursting when contact returned and Melasia quickly asked a question to gain her Mistress’ attention.

“Is your Seer Twin still alive Mistress?”

“No.” Lysisa mentally crossed her arms, retreating within, the memory painful.

“I apologise Mistress, I only thought ...”

Melasia, like the Mage, suddenly isolated and imprisoned within her gem access to magic denied.

In haste, Lysisa picked up her clothes and repaired the stone seal above the stairs. She then began a search for Seer Twins.

---

A shout rang out across the battlefield. The voice strong, confident and known.

“Sisters! Turn and charge to me,” yelled Dione.

Nysa and Kyra shield bashed the Walking Dead in front of them to push their reaching hands away. Both then turned to charge past Korinna leading with their shields determined to deflect the Walking Dead in the way to either side. Korinna, Hagne and Zoe desperately followed in the wake created, hope growing. Dione rode forward and her stallion’s hooves helped clear the way. Salvation shortly found in a one room cottage. Korinna barred one window, the shutters still intact. Hagne positioned a small table against the opening of the other, her back leaning against the barrier. Once all the sisters entered Dione rode off to see if she could draw some away with little success. The Walking Dead preferred the smell of blood.

Nysa and Kyra closed the sturdy door and pushed back against the Walking Dead trying to enter. The Walking Dead brushed up against the windows, Hagne and Korinna holding them at bay. Zoe attended to the most grievous wounds suffered by Hagne and Korinna reaching into her pack, the only pack they salvaged in their haste, for the small number of bandages to staunch the bleeding. Once done, she relieved Hagne and then Korinna in turn so they could drink from their remaining water skin. She relieved Kyra, who then held the door while Nysa drank. In this way they waited and rested, drawing in deep breaths and gnawing on the remaining dried meat, sweating despite the cold air outside.

The thumping and scratching at the door and windows intensified. Their safe place held until a rotting arm burst through a cottage wall, not a feat of strength, a result of hacking at the neglected mud bricks of the cottage. Unknown to those trapped Dione hadn’t left. If she drew any away her stallion destroyed them, otherwise she used her sling in the hope of striking the target in the head to destroy it.

Then Dione noticed the Walking Dead on the outskirts of the horde start to burn, fiery arrows in their torso and as they crowded the fire spread usually joining others similarly struck. The conflagration grew until large enough to gather all the fuel nearby, including the cottage’s dilapidated thatched roof overcoming the dampness and creating a billowing smoke. Dione hovered around the cottage trying to pick the right moment to act, which didn’t arrive. Fretting, she decided to charge in immediately.

Using her stallion, she smashed and trampled the Walking Dead from behind, making for the door calling to her sisters to escape. Pausing at the door, the stallion is crowded and grabbed at. He rears and lashes out with hooves, neighing. Nysa and Kyra charge from the doorway, shield bashing the couple the stallion can’t reach. The rest of the sisters boil out of the cottage followed by flames and billowing smoke, drawn to the fresh air made available through the opened door and windows.

The stallion pushed through the crowd, Nysa and Kyra protecting his flanks. Once through, ones and twos of the Walking Dead turned to pursue. The cottage collapsed in a fiery crash, Walking Dead taking defiant last steps as the flames burnt them to the ground, the backdrop. This time Kyra and Nysa paused to dispatch the chasers with Dione’s stallion circling back to finish off any stragglers or bowl over any groupings. Coughing, smoke smudged faces met as they sprawled about, relieved and exhausted waiting for their rescuers and any possible demands bereft of any energy to do anything else.

One appeared from behind the remains of the cottage. Tall and muscular for a Goblin, bow sheathed to his back, arms folded, feet splayed apart. In silence he waited, eyeing them in turn. The sisters share a knowing look, their rescuer reminds them of their own Goblin Sisters, except favouring a pale green skin colour. Nysa climbs to her feet and with tired steps strode forward, waving an eager Dione back.

“You will need to ride and rescue me sister if this proves to be a trap.”

As Nysa closed the distance, she judged the Goblin Sisters more muscular, although the waiting male Goblin seemingly strong enough and tall enough to match most human fighting men and women for that matter. He now leant against a tall spear and the large bow on his back, one end above his shoulder, the other end peeking behind his upper leg, intimidating.

He holds a palm out to Nysa. Apparently, she has approached close enough, within talking earshot.

“We thank you for our rescue and we pay our debts,” declared Nysa, displaying open palms.

“Fortunately for you, it is I who needs to repay a debt. I believe this is your Mistress.”

As he signals with a free hand, three stretchers, a body upon each are carried into Nysa’s view. He smiles as Nysa places a hand to her mouth and leans forward. It must be she, he thinks, for they recognise at least one of the bodies.

Barely able to contain her concern, Nysa asks, “Are they hurt? Injured?”

“Difficult to tell, we found them unconscious and so they have remained. We haven’t attempted to wake them, normally the body knows when to wake if injured.”

The six Goblins who carried them out, similar to their chief, build, arms and armour, including the one female as they lined up on either side of him.

“Tell your Mistress that I would like to talk to her sometime in the future but if that doesn’t happen tell her that I have paid my debt to her even if she never knew it existed as she taught me to hunt and more importantly to eat meat! As you see, for a Goblin that makes all the difference.”

“How will she find you?”

“She only needs to setup camp at the forest edge although a little more to the north is better as there are too many Walking Dead spawning from the forest here about.” Then he bellied laughed at his own joke while disappearing behind the few farmhouses that still stood in the area followed by his companions.

Nysa waved her Sisters to join her, while kneeling at each stretcher, Charis, Helice and possibly Raisa. Their faces serene, evidently at peace. Nysa fought to hold back tears, eyes moistening despite her efforts.

Renewed energy drove her Sisters, gathering around the stretchers in disbelief.

Nysa snapped out several orders. “Korinna contact our Seer Sisters we need the help of at least one more and supplies. Hagne and Kyra start to carry our sisters to shade and out of any wind. Dione scout around for any further Walking Dead and the best trail to Lonely Keep.”

Zoe held up a surprise, a bow and quiver of arrows, thoughtfully gifted by the Goblins.

“And Zoe, please stand watch …” Nysa casting a joyous grin.

Zoe smiled, nocking an arrow and crouching, searching for an ideal watch position, noting the feathering on the arrow similar if not the same as crafted by Charis, a confirmation if any needed the Goblin Leader learnt skills from their Mistress.

Dione stood still, the reins of her stallion in one hand, although unnecessary.

Nysa turned and meet Dione’s gaze. “We thank-you for our rescue Sister, now is the time to secure our freedom and protect our Mistress.”

“I …”

An inner conflict stormed over Dione’s response, she needed to lead and yet how to wrest the leadership from Nysa and ensure the other Sisters would follow. Kyra would follow Nysa, Korinna and Hagne also, given they didn’t share in the pursuit, which left Zoe. Hopeless. She rescued them; Nysa acknowledged as much. Why didn’t they look to her?

Nysa noted Dione’s furrowed brow, deep in thought, while the stallion waited completely still in an unnatural way. A crossroads possibly, obey or rebel.

Dione leapt upon her stallion and without a further word took to her assigned task.

Zosime and Alexis pleaded with their Mistress to return and soon arrived standing before a cross legged Korinna, carrying more supplies. The Seer Circle included Rhea and Elpis and they offered to drive a wagon trailing several horses from Lonely Keep and carry the patients to safety. Astera thanked them, knowing Rhea would be keen to join her twin.

Dione rejoiced upon her return, Zosime and Alexis would acknowledge her leadership she felt certain. Meanwhile she observed Nysa encouraging all to move, her and Kyra bearing Charis’ stretcher, Zosime and Alexis assigned to Helice’s stretcher, Hagne and Korinna assigned to Raisa, with Zoe scouting out front, now armed with bow and a quiver of arrows.

The sisters walked stubbornly North directly towards the mountains until dusk with Dione circling them, allowing her Sisters to glimpse her, although not joining them. Lantern light bounced towards them along the trail and Dione rode to escort Rhea and Elpis with the wagon and horses to the Sister’s night camp.