The silver halls of the Dar Yi Home were awash with colourful guests, like fruit on a polished platter. The air smelled of pastries, wine and perfume. Musicians around the city of Entithea had prepared for the ball all season. The best musicians of each Family was there that night to play their pieces. The strings of their instruments hummed melodies and harmonies beneath nimble fingers. The air itself sang with activity and the chorus of a hundred afluent youths of Entithea. Servants levitated trays for the guests in planned circuits. Lights were dazzling sections of the main halls in each of the Family Colours. Each colour reflected on the silver surfaces like a kaleidescope in motion. Cebrice and his pack hung by some chairs near a wall. Dar Yi ancestor portraits lining the walls looked down at them all as the strangers they were. The four Bheorse had dressed in crimson suits with black shirts and bronze cuff-links. Cebrice had tried to grow his hair out a little bit over the past few weeks. It had inched in curls and volume. Though slight, it was a noticeable change to him. Mofrim had shared some of his tinctures for shine and strength. Secrets were rare, so the sharing felt all the more precious. Cebrice came feeling more fresh and done up than he had ever felt for anything in his life. He had never felt so ready for anything - although he wasn’t sure what he was ready for. The whole affair was so strange to him. “It’s networking,” Beltal told him. Her suit was perfect on her of course. She stood and went for the tray of snacks. She carried herself with such physical ease and confidence, people stumbled to get out of her way. She picked the whole tray out of the air and brought it back for them. A poor servant in the corner argued with herself whether she should try to stop her. The servant decided against it. “Well, you guys can network, I’m here to party,” Rune said in their minds as she adjusted her shirt. It had been made a tad too small around the arms. She grabbed a little pastry between each of her fingers and ate them from the claw-like grip. Cebrice fidgeted. “Rohchec said we should talk out loud when at the ball. He said it makes us seem more approachable.” The statement surprised Beltal. “Are we not approachable?” Mofrim laughed, “We’re not meant to be approachable, come on. We’re Bheorse. We’re here to get clients for jobs once we finish training. So then, we should look like we can win a fight.” He considered this a little further, placing a finger on his chin and surveying the crowd for targets. "Should we start fights?” Beltal laughed, “I mean we could, but I was told our mission is to dance with people.” They all looked out at the wash of fabrics in a rainbow of colours across the wide floor of the hall. Cebrice felt a sense of dread. “Do we go all together?” He hazarded the question knowing the answer. They all winced in mutual understanding. “We’d cover more ground if we split up,” Beltal said. “What if we need backup?” Runiek wondered. “Well then let us know, obviously. We’ll stay connected,” Mofrim said. “Come on, it’ll be easy. Cebrice, you could just make people dance by now, right?" Mof gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. Cebrice gave a nervous laugh. He knew it was a joke, but still, his training was far from being that advanced yet. In the past month he had got used to having animals walk with him. Besides, he had never tried it with people and the idea felt uncomfortable. It had been a looming concern of his that such things might be inevitable, but it was a future he wasn’t ready to admit to yet. Until someone ordered him to, it didn’t have to come up at all. In fact, he could stick to work on a farm. “Don’t be so worried about it. Anyone you’ll have to order won’t be Bheorse. You have no loyalty to them. So, they don’t matter.” Runiek told him in his mind, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Right.” Loyal. Merciless. It’s what he was born to be, after all. Once he was there, he was sure he could be. He’d proven a lot to himself over the past few months, after all. “You got this.” Mofrim said to him, before turning back to loud speech. “Enough about training, let’s get out there. Find someone pretty, okay short-stack?” Cebrice pouted, “I’m not that short.” They all agreed that he was that short. “And why would they need to be pretty?” “For dancing with? Aw come on,” Beltal joined in, “there are many ways to ‘make connections’, Cebrice.” Mofrim and Beltal raised eyebrows at each other and then to him as if to emphasize the point. “Physical con-“ “We get it,” Runiek groaned. Cebrice was growing red and turned the cufflinks around and around on his left wrist. “Y-you’re not serious. You can’t get too physical or you’ll get in trouble, right? They need to track bloodlines and-“ “Don’t worry, Ceb. I heard we aren’t disowned for anything above the belt,” Mofrim informed them with an air of unearned wisdom. “Where the hell’d you hear that?!” Runiek said, turning as red as Cebrice. A new song was being announced by the current band to polite applause. “Anyways, why are we still here?” Beltal snapped, straightening herself like she did before an exam, “We’re meant to be dancing. Let’s act professional, alright? Keep your trousers on, Mofrim,” she scoffed - although she was making jokes with him a moment ago. She ignored their mental accusations. “You people.” Then she stormed off towards some stranger to ask them if they had a hand for the dance. Cebrice felt a bit dizzy with the nerves. Mofrim was soon off as well, only a moment after Beltal went. Cebrice looked over at Runiek with some hope that she might delay them. Instead, she sighed in defeat. “Well. I guess there’s nothing to it but to do it, huh?” She pushed his shoulder. Though it was casual, he still stumbled. He tried to laugh. “Yeah, I- I guess so,” he said as she prowled towards some poor lad in gold. The song was already starting by the time he was moving. It didn’t feel much like a night out anymore, and he didn’t feel much like he was ready for anything. That and now he needed to pee. He’d get a dance the next song. Yeah, that was it. He veered from the dancefloor to the nearest exit. He navigated the halls of the strange Family’s home by asking a series of servants where the toilets were. It was strange that all the Families would have to use the same facilities. The bathroom was the great equalizer. When he had finished and came out, he stayed by the mirrors to psych himself up. The inner voices of his pack-mates were far away here, but he could still make them out. The voices around him were even louder. So many people here were already drinking hard. It was like they had started before they even got to the Ball. What a crazy idea. The point being, he was alone in foreign territory. He leaned on the sink edge to steady his mind. The Elders would be observing their activities. Every single day he had to prove himself. Even here. Why couldn’t he have a single party? Couldn’t anything be easy for him? Why did he overthink so damn much and make everything so much more complicated than it had to be? He realized he had been holding his breath and started to breathe with a conscious effort. A Bheorse should always have command over their own body. Their own thoughts. At least the portraits on these walls had no idea who he was. He didn’t owe anything to them. In that way, it was still something of a holiday to be here. Away. “Hello, hey.” A Dar Yi said to him. They were wearing silver with black and had white hair. The Dar Yi colours. As hosts of the Ball, Cebrice was aware he should be extra respectful to the Dar Yi. Though he was a bit more casual than he expected from the Dar Yi mannerisms. Something was off about him as well, he was distracted. looked like he had had a rough day, and seemed somewhat out of breath. Cebrice passed his mind over his like a casual handshake. He was hoping Cebrice wouldn’t notice something about him. He needed to know where the drugs were. He didn’t have much time here, before he had to leave. He didn’t want to leave. He missed it here. Cebrice wondered what that meant, but didn’t want to be rude and ask. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where drugs are, Sir." Was that rude to jump to? "I- I mean, hello.” “Well, damn it all. Can you at least tell me if you’ve seen a girl here? I mean a blonde girl, about our age, she'd be.. not dressed for the occasion?” “'Blonde girl'? That sounds like it could be anyone, but…” Cebrice peeked into his mind to smooth the flow of the conversation. He saw a girl with wide eyes holding a book, looking a little upset at something this boy said. At first, Cebrice didn’t notice it because he focused on her face, but then realized her clothes were black. “An Orphan? You’re looking for… Wait, is this a job offer?” The question caught the boy off-guard. “N-not, not officially?” Cebrice could sense weakness. He seemed like he was desperate enough to get any help he could. He found himself smiling. Seemed he didn’t have to go dancing after all to get work for them. “Well, we’d need it in writing, you understand. I can get an Elder tonight, and we can-“ “No, no. Let’s keep this between us.” Cebrice wasn’t versed in the sale. The Bheorse only told their young how to force an issue. “Um, but it wouldn’t take a moment, really-“ The boy’s face was more serious then. He took a step closer to Cebrice and glowered down at him, raising a finger to Cebrice’s face. “This is a private - and I mean private - matter. I know you spread your thoughts between yourselves like you’re passing the butter, but not this.” Cebrice had never been threatened by another Family before. It was novel. Yet, ineffective. He was proud in a way - usually threats would be enough to cow him. But that was because Bheorse threats were promises. He did his best to hide his feelings on the matter from his face. He wanted to show respect after all. “Of course,” he managed. The boy could tell that Cebrice didn’t mean it, and cursed beneath his breath. His hand fell from its point at Cebrice and he gave a short sigh. “Whatever. I have to go. More important things to deal with right now.” He stormed out of the room. The matter must have been important to whoever that was. Cebrice decided he would keep a lookout, and if he spotted the girl, then he would find the boy again and bring her to him. Earning his trust that way could put their pack at an advantage for future jobs. But it was strange. He had said a blonde. Why would an Orphan go to the Ball without a veil? Come to think of it, except for Diplomats, Orphans weren’t allowed at the Ball. They were Family only affairs, celebrating a heritage the Orphans weren’t a part of. One breaking out and making their way in would be a shock to most people. This could be a bigger opportunity than he had thought. Cebrice left the bathroom, looking both ways at the exit to see if he could track where the guy could have gone. He might still convince him to give him more information. It would make tracking her easier. But the boy was out of eyesight. “Hey guys, I got a potential job lead for us. We’re looking for a blonde who doesn’t belong here. Sounds like an Orphan is gate-crashing. That could be big rewards for us!” he conveyed mentally to everyone. “Already? I’m surprised, Ceb! You work fast for someone who’s scared to dance.” Bel replied from the arms of some Sot who was getting too handsy and was about to get kicked across the dance-floor. “God the food is good here. Maybe the blonde’s at the desserts,” Rune joked. She had already had 2 drinks since he’d gone to the loo, 'for courage'. The chocolate puddings served in little porcelain cups were fantastic, she shared. “What about you Mof? Awfully quiet.” Cebrice wondered. It was silent for a long moment - but Mofrim kept to himself more than the others. He could put up walls almost as strong as the Elders, and put them down to surprise them all with how intense he could be. He did that with his pain to mess with him. Cebrice still remembered the night after the bug. Cebrice felt he had broken through one of Mof's walls that night. Proved something to him. But what could he be quiet about now? Mofrim was joking earlier, right? He wasn’t having a private moment, was he? “Don’t be gross, Ceb, I’m sure he’s just… god I hope not,” the girls agreed. Cebrice had a growing sense of unease. He moved back to the main hall with the others, who glanced across the distance to meet his eyes in turn. They would all look for him. As he entered, another song began. It was far more upbeat than the slow song that had been playing. Beltal managed to escape the hands of the Sot and moved on towards someone else. Cebrice needed to have a look towards all the exits. Mof wouldn’t have left the premises. But then, where was he? Not that anything could have happened, Ceb reminded himself. Mofrim was the strongest of them - aside from Beltal. And even she didn’t have the fortitude Mof had. No, he must be fine. But he was trained to never let the group link down when apart, especially in outside territory. Not when they were on a mission to get work. Not when he said he wouldn't. If him going out of sync was part of that mission he would have told them. Mofrim was not irresponsible like that. Something about that Dar Yi’s dark look, threatening him despite having nothing to back it up - it stayed with him. Haunted him, at that moment. Moving through the crowds was not that simple. As the music was starting, he bumped into a lady in blue. Eazu. “Excuse me-“ he began, his eyes on the exits. “Oh, of course!” She took his arm for the dance and led him more central, towards the crowd. He was too surprised to be angry. He was about to say something to try to pass this off as the mistake that it was without hurting her feelings. It was so stupid how other people couldn’t read his mind. “I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes for a moment. “Do you mind if I tell you something?” He blinked and looked at her for the first time. She was taller than him, and had curly black hair decked with shimmering pins and crystal blue eyes. The Eazu, he remembered, could see the future. That meant she could be useful to finding Mofrim. He tried to remember how to dance and not trip over himself, and gave her a speechless nod. “This night is going to change many things. We know this… But we don’t know what’s going to happen. Not exactly. But I can see that you…” she paused and gave him a smile. It was genuine and somehow sad. In her mind, he saw only chaos, darkness, beasts, crowds. The Dar Yi hadn’t scared him, but the anticipation of what she would tell him had him near shaking. “You’re going to lose a part of yourself here. A part of yourself that you will mourn in the years to come. We all will. We’ll lose much from tonight onwards.” He was pale. “I have to find Mofrim,” he told her, even though she wouldn’t know who that was. “You will. You will, don’t worry. And I hope… that fate can change.” Something glimmered in her icy eyes. “I can help you. After all, there is always chance.” She linked her fingers behind his neck as the music swelled. “What do you want from me?” he asked. He searched her mind and beside the visions saw her own ambition. Eazu put their ambitions to the forefront of everything they did. Rohchec had called Eazu selfish creatures, so it wasn’t surprising. “You know.” “A favour,” he stated. She nodded. “A favour.” He didn’t have time to consider it. What was a favour but the Eazu’s version of a booked job? “Fine. Okay.” She smiled like marble. Glossy, perfect, cold. “What’s your name, boy?” “Cebrice. Of the Bheorse.” “Cebrice of the Bheorse. I am Mulienne of the Eazu. A pleasure, if at a sad time.” The song came to an end. Somehow, Cebrice hadn’t stepped on her toes this dance. Her gifts may have helped with that. “I - you too. I have to go now. But, thanks for the luck?” “A piece of advice? From one house to another?” She called to him as he was already rushing away from her. He paused and looked back for a brief moment, only half willing to pay attention to what she said. “Be kind?” She said. Strange words. All the Eazu Family said were strange words. She pointed towards an exit and he took it. It took only a few minutes of searching. Beyond, he saw a door off the main corridor that stood out, ajar. It was the only room with the lights off. He pushed it open. The entire Home of the Dar Yi was lit up with lights, even completely empty rooms. Their ancestors were everywhere, and Dar Yi were all around. There was no reason why any room would be dark on a night like this. Not when no expense was spared to make the place seem perfect. The distant sounds of ballroom music starting again seemed a world apart at the door to that room. Cebrice found his voice. “Hello?” It looked like a den or lounge. There were low bookshelves along the walls. In the middle of the room were two couches facing one another with a low table between them. On the far couch, two forms splayed out, one over the other, but Cebrice couldn’t make out who they were. He searched for his own ancestors’ strength to see even in the depths of the darkness. His eyes adjusted and he focused on the figures. Mofrim was there alright, and someone else draped over him. Cebrice let out a held breath at seeing him there and rushed forward. “Mofrim! I swear to Crown I was so worried! I told them you were -“ But the girl turned her head at his approach, and Cebrice’s words fell in the air. He slowed his approach to a stop. It was the girl in the head of that Dar Yi boy. The blonde. “Mof, were you listening to us after all? You got her for the mission? Could have said!” Silence. “Mof?” He noticed Mof's eyes were closed. Cebrice tried not to panic, failing. He reached his mind out to his friend’s. He was alive, but unconscious. Cebrice’s mind reeled. "What have you done?! GET OFF HIM." He stepped forward to grab the girl’s shoulder and pull her off of his packmate. Her skin felt hot beneath his fingers, like it might burn him. Shocked, he pulled his hand from her as if on instinct, and she slunk away towards the wall. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the shelf there like it would hold her steady. He had a moment to make a priority call. He tore his eyes from the girl for a moment and knelt beside Mofrim to check him over. “Hey I found him guys,” he informed the rest of his pack in his head. But once again, there was no answer. He felt as if someone walked over his grave. His eyes darted back to the girl, surprised to find her still there by the wall. “What have you done? What happened to him?” She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He took the initiative himself to try to read her mind. The room remained silent. It was hard to make out any marks on Mofrim in the dim light. Even that was growing darker. Her mind was unreadable. It must have been some kind of Sot charm she had on her, he rationalized. “What… Who are you?!” Something was happening to him, which he didn’t understand. Which he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t let this girl go. She needed to face justice for whatever she had done to Mofrim. Whatever she could be doing to him. Where were the rest of his pack? Why did the room feel like it was getting darker? He stood up from beside Mofrim and stared at her. She seemed to understand that he was going to run for her. It was an unspoken agreement. Some things don't need telepathy. There was a moment of absolute stillness in that room before the chase began. He bolted forward and she raced towards the door that same moment. She pulled it closed between them. He hauled it back and bolted through in one motion. He hated leaving Mofrim there. He didn’t have a choice. He had to tell the pack. As soon as he was out of that dark room, he felt as if some energy was returning to him. “CEBRICE” he heard in his mind. It was Rune and Bel reaching out to him. “There you guys are. I have her. I found him. Mofrim is in this room. She’s right in front of me.” He conveyed the sense of where the locations were without losing speed. “We need to corner her.” She turned a corner ahead of him and he skidded around it a moment later. “Don’t go radio dead on us again. I’ll get Mof.” Rune told him, ditching her dancing partner mid-song and walked towards the room he had shown her. “I’ll trap the bitch with you.” Bel moved from the drinks with the smoothness of a predator joining the hunt. They shared in a fury at any harm coming to their pack. That fury mixed with the relief to hear from them again. But the target was tricky. Without being able to hear her mind, it was much harder to track her. They had to listen to their senses more than their thoughts. And Beltal, the best they had, already drank from the punch. The girl had a tell though. Wherever she went, the lights dimmed.