The frail-looking old man seemed to transform before my eyes. The overwhelming pressure of his new presence was completely different than the old man that I knew. I glared longer and harder than I should have, I saw his strength first-hand. I remembered the giant flaming hands that he conjured at the rite. The intense heat that felt like it could turn someone to ash bone and all. If I had power like that the people of the slums wouldn't suffer as they do. He acts like there isn't anything that can be done when he easily has the power to change everything.

The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. He could see my mood worsening but his smile didn't waver, it doused my growing anger leaving only resentment behind,

"Is that it? Even with all your strength you still can't make a difference."

"Not quite. This power isn't mine, it was granted by the forge mother and her Lords. It is a manifestation of my strength of piety and I cannot wield it as I see fit. Every swing of this sword must be in service of the gods. My actual strength is just below average."

He gently tossed the greatsword in the air and clapped his palms together, instantly the behemoth blade turned into a fine black dust that scattered and fizzled into nothing and I was saved from the booming mantra as the music cut off.

"If your power isn't there to protect people then why even have it?"

"Tell me, even if I could do as I pleased what would you have me do? Who would I strike down to make everything right? An organisation like fleur is like a hydra, removing one head will just result in another taking their place. You're smart, you should've figured out that no one can save everyone and even of those you can save, not all will be within your reach."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing,

"They were in your reach! The kids, all of them, were just a short walk from your house! If you're so wise and enlightened you should've seen the signs of trouble so why did you let them get taken!"

I shouted at the top of my lungs no longer caring if someone outside heard.

"Why is it that you think I stopped coming to the stall with you?"

He said. I was screaming at him but he remained smiling, seeming to radiate calmness as he spoke,

"Do you not think I would've liked to speak to my friends? Do you think I felt no unease leaving you alone? Or perhaps you thought that cooking the second pot of stew required my full attention, the same stew that we leave unattended overnight. I've been distracted by other matters as of late, probably to keep my eyes off of the slum.

Then there's the issue of the Lord. Tell me, aren't there too few guards around on the surface? Here in the dwell, there are never any but on the surface haven't you wondered why they are so rare?"

I noticed the lack of guards, I'd tried to find them many times before but I had no clue what he was suggesting by all of this,

"Just say what you want, stop beating around the bush."

I had calmed down slightly. I needed to know as much as I could if I was going to try to protect the children.

"This city, despite its apparent wealth, is one of the poorest. Lord Magnes can't even afford guards to patrol the city, let alone send out to the villages in his land. The woman that you've caught the eye of is known as the Collector. She's been around here for a while now but truth be told, that nickname is one of the only things I know about her.

This branch of the guild is the largest source of income for the city and the Lord leans on her vast wealth in exchange for leniency."

Great, besides the fact that she was above the law, I had learned nothing new about my adversary. I pushed a little more, even information that seemed useless had its importance.

"Anything else? Anything at all?"

The old man thought for a bit but it was clear that the Collector had managed to avoid giving away too much to prying eyes. So I tried a different approach,

"She called me exotic today but I have no clue what she meant."

He gave my face and body a quick scan,

"If I had to guess, probably your skin and eyes. She values uniqueness highly and people like you are rare around these parts."

Over something so small she was willing to commit such disgusting acts, her third method for plucking roses became far more terrifying when I realised that she considered this respectful treatment. Though there might be a silver lining that wasn't immediately apparent. As long as I showed my value I might have a little more bargaining power than expected. In the absolute worst-case scenario, I might be able to trade my life for the kids. It wasn't much and that plan would fail when the next rite came along but I tucked that piece of knowledge into the back of my mind. Now there was one more thing I wanted,

"Could you let me try blade tending for you?"

"It would be an honour."

His enthusiasm was surprising to me but I had no reason to complain and I didn't want to ask why in case he changed his mind. The old man manifested his dirk in a flash of white light and then stared at me with intent as if he was eagerly waiting for something. I never took the time to look at his Animus-blade up close. It was very rustic looking, a simply wrapped leather handle with an uneven almost white blade and crossguard. The edges and tip were visibly dull, it didn't look like it could cut anything.

The same jaunty wordless song emitted from the dirk, like a whisper compared to the immense volume of the greatsword, it truly was hard to believe that the same man wielded both weapons. I listened to the music for just a moment longer before whispering,

"I can hear you."

The urge to sing welled up within me to the point where I felt holding back would burst my lungs so I joined in with the merry tune. I remembered that the tone and feel of my father's song changed once I joined in but the head priest's song was steadfast. Instead, it felt as though I was invited to skip along with the one-man troup so I obliged.

Once more as I sang my vision was populated by the yellow orbs, I closed my eyes to avoid the sickness and watched with intensity hoping to catch every detail of the scene. There was a circle of yellow ones taking turns lashing at a red orb with their tentacles, over and over again they whipped the red one with violent strikes, its ominous glow brightening with each blow received.

The dirk floated in the distance away from the group as the yellow ones kept up their torturous game. Eventually, the red one let out a discordant screech that startled me into messing up the song, the vision faded slightly but recovered once I was back on track.

The dirk flew at the yellow ones batting them aside until they fled into the void. More and more orbs, a mix of yellow and red began to attack the brightly glowing red one but the dirk grew faster by the moment. It blocked and parried each tentacle lash, repelling attackers with the flat of its blade until there were no more that wanted to continue the fight.

The red one ceased its screech and extended its tentacles around the dirk causing the handle to burn and the metal to rust where it touched. Seeing the spreading damage I reached out in reflex but my hand was nowhere to be seen, it took me a moment to remember that I was just seeing a vision.

The dirk didn't fight back, allowing itself to be wielded against new yellow and red ones that now floated around aimlessly. With each strike, the dirk twisted to make sure that only the flat of its blade struck, like that the red orb went on a spree attacking all in sight. Deep into the group of orbs was a white one, it was a new colour that I hadn't yet seen.

One by one the red orb attacked and the dirk twisted, knocking the yellows aside until they finally came to the white one. Again the red orb started its swing and the dirk twisted its blade to avoid dealing a slashing blow but the red one flipped its grip at the last moment, turning its downward slash into a violent stab, puncturing straight into the white orb with ease.

The white one lost its light turning grey before it withered and shrivelled until it was nothing. The red orb turned to leave but its tentacles snagged on the dirk which had remained completely motionless after the attack. No matter how hard the red one tugged and pulled the dirk wouldn't move like it was locked in place by some unseen force, no amount of damage to the dirk made it move the slightest amount until the red one seemingly gave up and left into the void.

More yellow and red orbs populated the area, some reds attacked yellows, while others just floated around peacefully. Time seemed to speed up as the comings, goings, moving, attacking and defending of many hundreds of orbs flashed before my eyes at unfathomable speeds and all the while the dirk stayed locked in place, stuck in time. Until everything, dirk included was scattered from my vision. There was nothing but the darkness of my closed eyes and my urge to sing ceased.