Mezir stared at the empty air where his father and Amberosin had just been. White had spoken and without any other sign than his sentence ending the air in front of him and his captive spun into a black ball and swallowed them whole. It disappeared with a pop and a sigh. Mezir had stood there with his fist clenched shaking at the sight of nothing before him.

I didn’t even get the chance to tell her. The fucking monster- he just had to ruin that too!

“Ah!”

Essence moved through him in harmony with his tumultuous emotions. It moved down Mezir’s framework arm as his fist collided with the grass, dirt, and stone of the clifftop. It did so of its own volition; a trait of his as powerful as it was dangerous. In his explosive rage, the essence within him had decided to summon forth an equally explosive mixture that combined to make mini volatile balls of pyre essence wrapped in thin veneers of air. The result was destruction on a massive scale. The clifftop that he stood on split in two, all the way down the middle of its mass to the ground of the clearing below, and began opening wide. Stone groaned like a rusted vice as it tore away from itself and crashed down into the Wilders on either side. Miles of forests were squashed beneath the split stone. The clearing grew tenfold.

All Mezir could think about as he fell down the gap his fist had created was what the damage would have been if they were in the city. How it would have been even more catastrophic than Ta’K’s display outside of Schuri’s shop. How he had failed to contain his rage. Essence slowed Mezir’s descent and formed a thin bubble around him as he approached the ground. An audible gasp, a pop, and a sigh announced the end of his protective bubble's existence as he moved away from the still falling rubble. Mezir kept his eyes low as he walked back towards the clearing’s center, held a slow even pace the whole way back, and stopped only when he was beside a sobbing Heria. Korrin held the woman in her arms so much as she could and was whispering to her, silent tears falling down her own face.

Mezir knew he should tell them that Ragoth wasn’t dead, not yet at least, but he wouldn’t. That sorrow they felt would turn to rage, a cry for vengeance. He’d make sure of it. Vengeance could be controlled, shaped to achieve a greater purpose. Rage could be solidified into strength. Heria would make a damn good soldier- if she continued to think Ragoth was dead- and Korrin was lost, confused about her own identity- with good reason to be. That was like finding perfectly workable clay to a general. Which he had been for years now, aspirations be damned.

Compassion already taking a backseat, eh Mezir? Guess I am more like my father than I’d like to admit. He was still getting used to being allowed to be himself, though the longer he was, the more Mezir was sure he didn’t like himself so much anymore.

Schuri is a much better person. Yes… Yes, he is. And he is you.

Mezir sighed, turned to Heria and Korrin, and called forth the best parts of his Schuri persona that he could muster under such heavy grief. Pushing aside his own overpowering depression Mezir conjured up a huge smile complete with tears cascading down his cheeks and tossed himself onto the ground beside the two young women and embraced them tightly. Pushed their faces into his chest. Willed his heartbeat to speed up as he did so, made it loud, prominent. Distracting. Then, he faked the compassion he could no longer feel. Mezir knew what should be felt, displayed, and that had always been good enough for everyone else. He was who he needed to be.

Ease their suffering and they will follow you. Make them feel important. But not blessed.

Mezir just needed to be the lesser of two extremely terrifying evils. That was all. He squeezed the women closer to him and sighed loud enough that their heads turned upward.

“ As a veteran of battle… a close acquaintance to death…” Mezir made sure to steady his breath, let it quiver, and caught it once more before clearing his throat, “ I’ve learned that we mourn the dead too quickly and appreciate those that remain too little. I’ve learned to appreciate the dead, their sacrifice, and to mourn those that remain. For we have the hardest part in all of this. We must carry on.” Mezir let his sobbing get heavier, just audible enough that they stopped their own tears and squeezed back in return of his embrace. He could hear Ta’K leading Lili-Bon towards them. “Heria… Helena… I didn’t know you before. I don’t know you now. But I loved Ragoth… always. If he trusted you, if he held you so close at heart, that you feel this dismal at his loss… then I too trust you. I know the anger you must be feeling, the rage and despair that death of a loved one brings to us all, that hungering for vengeance… vengeance I can help you to achieve, but only if you can trust me as well.”

Mezir loosened his grip on Heria and held her a few inches further away, far enough that their eyes could meet. Korrin cried into his chest even harder than before. Ta’K and Lili-Bon just reached their small grouping when Heria nodded to him and fell to one knee.

“My Lord, Mezir. I… I offer you my services in return for a chance to hurt Lord White. Substantially as I can… but I would also like to stipulate that.. That maybe Ragoth isn’t dead. I would like to know for certain before we leave Blancana.” She was smart, already knew they’d be fleeing as soon as possible. Their small band was no army, obviously, but many men and women would’ve prided themselves too much to retreat in the thick of it all. Especially men and women as powerful as Heria. Mezir commended her for that.

“As we should, Heria.” He’d chosen her name and she nodded in acceptance. No room for second guesses from here on in. “We will have to venture back into Blancana for that purpose…. And the purpose of retrieving Amberosin.”

Mezir could see the news smack all of them at once. Korrin jerked and became rigid against his chest before she too backed away and took a knee before him. Ta’K had nearly fallen looking around to confirm Amberosin’s absence, no doubt frustrated at not having noticed. Something Mezir could relate to. After a moment he looked at Mezir and nodded, giving a small bow of the head. Mezir had noticed he was favoring his left leg again so he wouldn’t push for a true kneel. No need. Ta’ didn’t bow easily. Lili-Bon was the only one who stood. Her hands were wrapped in a chain that Ta’K had fashioned from the metals of his framework hands, the chain was connected to Ta’K’s right hip. Literally in his hip.

Talk about devotion to the job.

Mezir smiled, letting the stream of tears slow. At that moment he felt a real warmth, real compassion, one that he adored and desired beyond all else despite how vain it made him feel and he knew that they could do this.

They would do it or they would most definitely die trying.

***

Ta’K had no idea what he was going to do about his leg. Mezir and the others had decided to move a mile or so into the Wilders and set up camp. Mezir wanted them all to rest while he devised whatever plan would supposedly get Amberosin back to them before they fled. The fleeing part didn’t sit well with Ta’K but he knew it made sense. He’d seen the disparity between his own power and Lord White’s. And Mezir’s.

When they’d all set up their own bedding of various designs Ta’K had gone to stand at the edge of the clearing, looking out to make sure White hadn’t sent anyone back for any reason or another. It was empty aside from a lump of a shadow on the ground just before a massive pile of rubble and land torn asunder by Heria’s attempt to stop Senfe- who was the lump of a shadow. Their violent commotions earlier in the day had chased away most beasts that resided nearby and there was no sign of any agents of Lord White’s skulking around so Ta’K felt safe enough to venture over to the woman’s corpse. He limped on his aching leg the whole way.

He’d been steadily absorbing small amounts of essence from Noctra around him. Ta’K had taken a tad bit of red life from rodents that still darted about, too concerned with surviving the attacks of hawks and felines to care about a felled cliff or broken ground. He’d also taken a little from a hawk that fed on one of the rodents. Some green from the trees around, not enough to damage or change them, just enough to slowly get his body used to the feeling again. It was the only remedy his father had ever taught him the few times he’d suffered from es-sickness as a child. It was a long, grueling process. But it worked. He approached Senfe’s body feeling a bit rejuvenated thanks to the mix of essence swirling within him.

Senfe’s caved face was covered in dry gore. Filled with mud and what he was sure were things writhing in the mud; small beasts and insects come to convert the energy of the dead into something altogether new. Ta’K had been taught that it was a beautiful process to revere, the decomposition and consumption of all things, and in theory, it was. In practice, however, it was horrifying. Humbling. Downright disgusting. He couldn’t even find it himself to hate the hollowed-out husk of a woman’s face for killing Patri. Ta’K didn’t spit or curse at Senfe. Didn’t mutilate her body any further than nature had decided to. He did what Ta’ were taught to do to all corpses; Ta’K returned Senfe’s body to Noctra. She was now a mound among piles of rubble and raised ground and as the land flattened once more she would be a part of it all.

Beautiful… when you can’t see it at least.

Ta’K had drained himself of much of the energy absorbed essence had given him by creating the burial mound for Senfe by hand. No casting or magic to be had. He tried his best to think respectful things as he did so. To do it the proper way.

She was obviously a great warrior. Sharp-witted. Treacherous bitch.

Oh, well. He’d tried.

On his way back to their makeshift campsite Ta’K continuously siphoned essence. He allowed himself to take in slightly larger amounts than before and the sickness from dealing with Senfe had faded a little by the time he saw Mezir sitting next to a fire. The big man’s skin seemed to adopt a bit of the darkness around him and made much of him look like a shade from afar; Luna’s nightly glow betrayed the visage, however, as it shined off of his right arms metal. Ta’K didn’t know why he felt the need to do so but he started to sneak, crouched low and paid close attention to where every footfall would be. What would have been a five-minute walk to Mezir ended up being a fifteen-minute journey through the underbrush and unseen places of the Wilders. When he finally made it close enough to clearly see Mezir in the light of his fire the man was just sitting there, staring into the flames.

Much like myself most nights. He is distant. In the abyss of his own mind.

Ta’K didn’t know if it would be a mercy to interrupt Mezir or if he should simply leave him be. Either way, Ta’K would not be sleeping much. He decided to take his chance. Without a sound of warning or announcement of his arrival, Ta’K stepped out from shrubs to Mezir’s right and visibly jostled the man to attention.

“Ah, thought you to be one of the demons in my mind come to haunt me again.” Mezir smiled but it did nothing to his eyes which stayed dark, distant. “I’m sorry about Amberosin… and Patri…” it wasn’t clear if he was talking to Ta’K or himself, likely both, “ I know you just met them but it was easy to see the connection ran- runs deep.”

Ta’K sat and placed a hand on Mezir’s left arm and willed his words to the man’s mind.

We will get Amberosin back.

Both men nodded at one another and Mezir gave a more sincere smile.

“Yes, I do believe we will. I’ve concocted one hell of a crazy plan but we can talk of that in the morning.” Mezir stood and cracked his neck on both sides, stretched his arms high, then low, and took a straight stance. “I’ll be keeping guard for now though I am sure we will be safe tonight, my father likes to play his games. Killing us in our sleep would be far too simple for the likes of him. Enjoy the fire, Ta’K. My friend.”

Mezir gave a short bow and strode off in the direction of the clearing.

Ta’K stared at the flames for a moment hoping to enchant himself with a meditation he’d done time and time again. It was no replacement for the rest and fortitude that came with a good night's sleep but it was enough to keep him aware through the night and capable the next day. Korrin and Heria slept in small tents forged from large leaves and branches from about the forest floor at the fire's edge. Lili-Bon was chained to the base of a massive wilderpalm on the other side. It was the most uncomfortable tree Ta’K could find. He knew more than most that torture was about the little things.

And he had no doubt there would be some of that in Lili-Bon’s near future.

And Amberosin’s.

Ta’K shook the chill from his bones and pulled out a pipe he’d chiseled from some wilderoak when he had first escaped the mines up north. He packed it full of giggleweed and smoked the whole bowl down while staring into the fire. Hoping for a vision. A revelation. Anything.

All that he found was silence.