Shiara stood leaning against a tree, watching Ada scrub her arms clean and lamenting that it could be done with clothing on. "You know, I rather like when we're organized, know our targets, and kill them in an orderly, coordinated way."

"You mean, planning?" Still scrubbing her arms with a lather comprised wildflowers and sand, Ada spared a glance and a smile for the distraction. As much as she appreciated the temporary runes Wynd had given them to bolster their strength, the itching sensation of the ink was driving her insane.

Shiara smiled at her princess. "Yeah, planning. We should do it more often, I like it."

Ada gave a polite chuckle. "Maybe we should." She hoped that their journey would be over soon enough that they wouldn't have to. "I thought you said you've done monster hunting before."

Shiara shrugged off the question. "I worked alone, most of the time. Pays better, and I never strayed far enough from the city to find anything really scary, so I never needed help. Speaking of, I still don't get why we couldn't help Wynd."

"It's part of their religion." Arakash lifted the crystalized chunk of stolen life force known as Sarite taken from the female basilisk. Thin green tendrils wafted off of it, wrapping around his hand and fingers as the crystal's energy sought to snuff out his life. "Some nonsense about honor. Ask him, I don't find Ferin mythology very interesting."

Annoyed at listening to her oldest friend being disrespected, Tel interrupted their speculation. "It's more than a matter of honor. It's among the deepest of nature magics handed down by Ecrose, tied into the cycle of life and death. If we aided him, the ritual would have failed, and he never would have earned the privilege of the basilisk's form."

"Ecrose?" Shiara looked down at her dagger, itself an Ecrosian design with its elaborate and admittedly somewhat impractical curves. Looked at one way, they resembled a single flame. Looked at another, they resembled a leaf or petal. "Is Wynd a worshipper?" She knew little of Ecrose beyond a name, and that It was a nature-based war deity which held a long rivalry with her... with Ifaril.

"Nah," Tel said. "The Third are special, with a god which they serve exclusively, and which serves them exclusively. I guess their god has some arrangement with Ecrose that lets them borrow some of Its magic. I ain't the one to ask. But Wynd is a scholar on gods, too, if you got questions."

"Huh." Shiara barely heard Tel. She'd been afraid to ask questions before, first because she knew she'd never hear the actual truth. Later because it meant risking herself. Now, across the strait and in current company, perhaps she could find answers long denied.

Arakash, meanwhile, half ignored the conversation. He knew little about gods other than that it was best for his people to avoid them at all costs. Perhaps some of what was shared might be useful to him, but it wouldn't be soon. Instead, he began the process of binding the crystal to his Vilos. So long as it was fused to his flesh, sharing his blood, it was safe from poison just as he was.

"Watch out fer that one, it's corrupted." In spite of her distaste, Tel felt some responsibility to keep her promise and see the trio to civilization. To see them die in such a stupid way after the hard part of the battle would leave a bad taste in her mouth. Besides, corrupted sarite did nasty things to corpses, like compelling them to stand up and kill everyone in reach.

"I know." For the first time in what seemed like forever, Arakash smiled and meant it. In an ideal world, he'd overload the gem, causing it to detonate and kill Shiara, but now that he was coming to understand the nature of her elemental transformation, he knew that wasn't an option. It was, however, an excellent weapon that would make him stronger.

"What are you plotting, now?" Shiara took her attention off of her dagger in order to glare at the demon, and the evil looking gem he seemed so fond of.

"Answer her, Arakash."

"I'm merely plotting to do my duty as your slave and murder your extensive list of enemies." Not a word of it was a lie, but Arakash picked the ideas he wanted remembered and kept his eyes firmly on the princess. "It's going to poison me and anyone in contact with me. You could use it with your immunity, but you can't control it like I can."

With a moment of concentration, Arakash accepted all of the corrupted shard's venom, which fell upon him as if drawn by a strange gravity, then sank in, leaving behind only his own purple and black skin. It had the pleasant side effect of restoring some negligible amount of power, if nowhere near enough to sustain him.

Ada watched for a moment, still uncertain of what to do about her demonic servant. She couldn't deny that having him stronger made her safer, so long as he remained controlled. "Very well, you may use it. However, you are expressly forbidden from absorbing sarite in an attempt to break free." Ada wasn't a scholar on the subject, but she knew sarite was, in effect, concentrated life force. Whether it would work for Arakash's escape she wouldn't hazard a guess and couldn't take the risk.

"At your command." Unfortunate, but he hadn't expected to acquire enough sarite of sufficient strength to break him free anyway. He was more interested in the silmid's thoughts on the subject.

Tel, however, kept her mouth shut and pretended not to hear the interplay. As much as she despised Seconds for everything they've done since their moment of creation, only a madman would side with a demon over them. Wynd had explained the nature of the Noctrel to her, and they sounded much like a Second, if what few redeeming qualities they had were stripped away, leaving behind only cruelty and hunger. Perhaps this made them less evil than the Seconds, in the same way one could not call a fire evil for burning, for it was without conscience or choice. However, one would be a fool to trust them, again for the same reason.

Ada stood, her arms scrubbed clean of runes and hair alike. Hair which tried to stand on end when she heard a bestial cry which drove all the birds from the trees. "What was that!?" With a thought, purple light erupted from her fingertips.

"Wynd's done with his ritual." Tel pretended like nothing was wrong, but her heart was hammering in her chest as well. Wynd was one of the most relaxed people she'd ever known, but he was still terrifying. "Come on." She ran back to camp on all fours, leaving the Seconds to catch up.

They found him standing over the hot coals of the fire pit, the fur on his shoulder smoldering. At his feet lay a shattered burning branch which he used to inflict the burn on his arm, itself over the thin scar left behind by the basilisk. Around the burn, a new rune glowed with the power he had gained.

"Do not worry, friends. Wynd has done this before. And if fortune permits, shall do so again." He hid the pain as best he could, not wishing the others to understand that there was no magic to the sooth burns. Natural healing was required to ensure the scars fused properly with the runes and made them permanent.

Shiara couldn't take her eyes off the fresh wound, except to look at the other older scars covering much of his body. While all of them must have been made the same way, it seemed obvious to her that some of them must have been 'inscribed' by other people. She wondered if Ecrosian rites were all so barbaric, or if it was specific to this form of magic.

Wynd used a foot to push the branch back into the coals of the fire pit, then pushed the dirt around the pit back in where it belonged. "Wynd apologizes for making you wait. It is time to lead you to safety as Wynd promised."

"Without you, we would have died to the goblins." Falling upon her training as a princess, Adageyudi reacted by bringing her arms together so she could grip her wrists, then she bowed. "You have our deepest gratitude for your aid."

Unable to mimic the gesture thanks to the shape of his limbs, Wynd used a different pose. "Among Wynd's people, this is a sign of trust and respect." He looked to the ground and then crouched before rising again. Such a position would have left him on poor footing if attacked.

Ada did her best to emulate the gesture, but her legs were a poor shape for it. "Again, we thank you."

"Well, let's get movin'." Tel marched past them, heading in the direction of the pass out of this valley. "If we hurry, you can be in civilization before nightfall."

Shiara looked down at her dagger, then back to the... Ferin who stood at twice her height, then back down to the dagger. She was sick and tired of being afraid of the world, of the truth, of herself. She forced herself to stand tall, then march her way to Wynd. Though, in truth, it was more like a light jog; his stride was almost twice hers, after all. Until she caught up to him, then she lost her nerve and looked away again.

Wynd noticed; how could he not, with the way she was staring at him when she thought he couldn't tell. "Do you seek something from Wynd?"

"No!" Shiara jumped. Then she realized how stupid she looked. "Umm, sorry, I was just. I was told you were a religious scholar."

He nodded his head. "Wynd does not believe others would call Wynd a scholar, but many scholars have expressed their words to Wynd by tongue and pen. What is it you wish to know?"

Shiara forced herself to lift her trembling dagger so that Wynd could see the blade in open light. "I... this was my mother's, but I know nothing other than that it's an Ecrosian work." And that it was the only thing she knew about her mother.

Wynd needed but a moment to see the truth behind the artifact. "It is a Binding Blade."

Shiara blinked, having no context of the meaning. "A what?"

Now Wynd realized he'd need to explain the entire nature of the ritual. "When those of the faith find one they feel a deep kinship with, they use the edges of the blade to draw their own blood together. When their blood, freely given, joins on the patterns, so too do their souls. If the bond is true, their strength becomes that of two remade as one. If their bond is false or weak, the process is fatal."

Shiara stared at the blade; she had her answer, and it answered nothing. "Like... like a marriage?"

"Wynd has little familiarity with the mating rituals of Seconds. Among the First and Third, there is no need or desire to pair child-making with personal attachment and camaraderie. Wynd knows only that the two who join themselves are swearing themselves to both live and die for one another, built on a relationship that has met and withstood all challenges. Wynd has been led to believe Seconds' mating practices fall far short of the ideal the Binding represents."

"I understand." She did not understand, could not understand. She knew the runes of her dagger were able to synchronize with her magic, but she couldn't quite believe the process ran so much deeper. She had but one more question. "Can you tell if it was ever used?"

"That blade has never once been used to to join two souls," Wynd said.

A bitter laugh escaped Shiara's throat.

Wynd stopped walking for a moment. "Are you hurt?" The expressions of Seconds were difficult for him to understand.

"I'm fine." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then started walking. "Thank you for telling me all these things I never knew." And one thing I always knew, she added in the privacy of her own mind.