He rather liked Rhui. Hated lying to the poor young man but there was a quantifiable list of things to get done in a very short amount of time and Rhui, and his position, were the key to at least four or five bullet points. Well, Rhui, and what he believed his position to be. Mezir learned very quickly during his first stint as a rebel commander that a small boost in confidence had a way of catapulting even the lowest of grunts to new pinnacles in strength and potential. Something he had always seen as pivotal for the greatest of armies. With Rhui, however, it was more of a means to an end. Didn’t matter much how much the man believed in his promotion himself, so long as those they ran into did. Mezir, masquerading as Fernwick, would be the second, the affirmation, of Rhui’s promotion if anyone questioned them.

Before going to visit Rhui in the infirmary he’d made rounds and offered a few bribes, a few lies about changing shifts. A few bone-shattering hits were given to a couple, now unconscious, guards who were stationed nearest the thick double doors to White’s lab. Within a quick hour, Mezir had cleared the way to their destination, though one could never really be too sure, especially when it came to his father. Hence, Rhui’s fake promotion.

Mezir had always loved the Fernwick disguise because the persona was entirely different from his own. Where the seafaring man practically survived off of honeyed brews and black liquors, Mezir never drank; the essence inside him healed his liver automatically, giving the spirits no effect on him. Where Mezir held himself as regally and profoundly as possible, Fernwick could swagger and sway his way through just about any situation, opinions of his peers be damned.

It was a true test of Meizir’s acting skills.

The thrill of the challenge was only enhanced by the fact that the real Fernwick, a salty, bad-mouthed sea captain, was waiting for Mezir and others off the coast of Blancana’s thicket of Wilders. He was instructed to leave and head for Trallengard in a few day's time without delay, to stay in his cabin indulging himself on the alcohol, women, and men that Mezir had supplied. More than enough to keep a man such as Cap’n Fernwick busy.

“Aye, Rhui ole pal, you almost done powdering your keister in there? White seemed adamant that we be on the lab doors immediately.” Shit. Fernwick wouldn’t use the word adamant, not correctly at least. Get out of your head.

Rhui hadn’t seemed to notice.

“Yeah, Yeah, Fernie.’

Rhui’s head poked out from behind a thin hospital room divider made of opaque glass. His skin was kissed pink on top of an earthen brown that meshed well with the orange hue of the divider. “Just trying to buckle this damn belt. Wanna try?” Rhui’s bright blue eyes shone with playful anticipation as he winked at Fernwick.

Poor kid. He seemed infatuated with the persona.

“Nah, fearful we may miss the shift then, pal.”

Fernwick gave his own drunken wink back. Stringing Rhui along as close as he could without initiating an unnecessary aside, not that he wasn’t longing for one of those himself, but Mezir had a strict policy about not cavorting while in disguise. Seemed… wrong. Pity too. Would’ve been a nice farewell, he imagined.

“Alright, alright. Done.”

Rhui stepped out from behind the glass obstruction and gave a sorry imitation of a commander's bow. His arms were in the wrong position, feet too far apart. Not that Fernwick would notice. “Perfect, sir!” Fernwick praised Rhui and smacked two heavy hands on the scrawny boy's shoulders. “Oh, sorry lad! I forgot about that gimp shoulder of yours.”

Fernwick would forget. Mezir hadn’t.

Rhui grimaced and shook his head. “No problem, shift captain, new armor took most of the force.” Obviously lying.

He stood tall, chin held high, face aglow with pride at the implications of the crest upon his heavy framework armor dyed white; a slithering creature wrapped all about a sharp-pointed, stark white ‘W’. The whole set was inlaid with gold and bordered with imbued metals that shone as if reacting to light around them. A quaint insignia on the shoulder marked him as ranked second in the order of Serpints. Or Nu’ Serpints. Or whatever madness White had forced the Lords of his Nu’ Council to pass. For a moment Mezir saw the man, the great man, great commander, and leader, that Rhui could become one day.

He committed the man to his memory. A keepsake, a reminder of the good in the world. Of what could have been. Of what would never be.

“Now! Time for another surprise for you, dear… uh… sir, Rhui!”

Mezir struggled to keep the voice of Fernwick from getting too loud and was afraid he heard another infirmary patient ruffling sheets in their cot. He’d never had to whisper as Fernwick.

“Follow me, commander, sir.” Better. The rustling sheets stopped too. Keep going. “We’ve got a special guest accompanying us tonight!” As Fernwick, he led Rhui to the doors of the White’s guard infirmaries. The young man-boy was limping the whole way. Something was wrong with more than just his shoulder.

As I thought, the physicians lied. On the chart and in announcements. But why? Why tell everyone he was going to recover? Obviously on father’s command… but to what end?

Whatever it was that Mezir’s father had planned for the injured Rhui’s remaining time, which only numbered in hours by the looks of it, Mezir was going to end before it began. It gave him a sick pleasure knowing it would hurt his father. It hurt his own heart, however, to look at Rhui as a piece on the board. To know he was going to die. That he was… disposable. But he was, wasn’t he?

Every guard. Every soldier. Everyone is disposable. Kings, nobles, Lords… Legends.. One day, I’ll be too, I’m sure. But that day is not today. Mezir knew his father said something similar long ago. Just another layer of pain, for another time.

Fernwick held the infirmary doors open for Rhui, bowing his head slightly the whole time, should anyone be making surprise rounds. There was one figure sitting on a bench outside of the doors in a massive hallway glittering with golden essence in white marble, but he had been expecting them. Opalescent lights dimmed automatically as the day progressed, at the time, they were mimicking the brightness of night’s mistress, Luna. The person sitting on the bench was in full view.

“Dear commander Rhui, I would like you to meet a very personal friend of mine and our magna… gracious Lord White’s.

Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso.”

***

Ta’K wasn’t extremely keen on the idea of wearing a Lili-Bon suit, which Mezir had on hand for some reason, because each suit in Mezir’s fancy metal case looked too real. As if he’d skinned and stolen the eyes of what had to be hundreds of people at the least. Of course, he didn’t, and the Lili-Bon suit was more than enough proof of that, as she was still very much alive. Still, it didn’t sit well with Ta’K to use Mezir’s suits, which seemed like fairly personal magic to him. So, he manufactured his own illusion of Lili-Bon and hid his eyes beneath a cloak, as they were sure to be askew.

Mezir said they’d work on that soon enough but for the time being to “just smile, curtsy-” whatever the hell that was- “and follow behind him”, ... Fernwick? To follow Mezir as Fernwick and this Rhui fellow they were going for. Ta’K asked Mezir why they were going after this sickenly slim man in the infirmary on their way through winding, wet, dankly dark tunnels beneath the estate, but was met with only tense silence.

He contemplated the implications of that silence while he sat on a bench alone in the grand hall. Nothing Ta’K could come up with seemed like a desirable answer, so he relented and got into the mindset of Lili-Bon. He’d seeded some essence into her mind, slowly as to not exhaust himself or alert her, while she had “slept” and felt his way through a few memories. The process would bring back some of her essence to be melded into his own and while it would assimilate, it would change some part of him over time. As would all the others he’d touched with his essence and held.

Unlike the others, Lili-Bon Vin Dreso was a very particular person with a peculiar essence. When he looked upon her with his sight, Lili’s body was aglow in more white swathes of essence than red. Green skittered in strikes of lightning down her limbs, blue specks flicked in and out of existence all over between each green crack. At Lili-Bon’s core, he saw red, orange, purple, black- It was a staggering amount of essence for one person to hold, and to make matters more astounding it all seemed stagnant. Where most people’s magic traveled atop their pulsing blood in veins of pure energy, Lili’s sat still. Almost as if adhered there purposely.

Lili-Bon always walked five paces behind her guards, always slept on her left side on even days, right side on odd. She rarely made eye contact, almost never made physical contact, and only spoke to a select few people outside of her family it seemed. She was entirely uncomfortable around emotion as it often confused her to some degree, though she prided herself in knowing how to read through the confusion. With logic.

A near-silent pragmatic with antisocial behaviors. The perfect part for Ta’K to play.

When the doors to the infirmary opened he became Lili-Bon, so much as he could.

She rose and gave a small bow at her introduction, the one thing Ta’K could think would be as acceptable as a ‘curtsey’.Fernwick’s face showed a genuine concern for a brief moment and Rhui seemed to be utterly shocked.

Luckily, the scrawny man, no older than Ta’K himself, broke the silence between them with strained laughter. “Seems like we could all use lessons in proper etiquette, my Lady, Countess Lili-Bon.” Rhui kneeled down and propped an arm upon his left leg, bowing his head. Behind him, Fernwick pointed at Lili-Bon and mouthed the word ‘curtsey’ as he did a quick demonstration and fell in beside Rhui.

Lili-Bon raised her hands to the side and barely bent her knees, bobbing her head at the end. Just as Fernwick showed her. It served as enough for both men who stood and turned without further conversation; they’d both been around Lili-Bon before and knew her mannerisms. Made Ta’K’s part that much easier to play. Ahead of him, he observed both Mezir, playing the role of Fernwick, and Rhui. The former looked fantastically entrenched in his suit as expected. Mezir played a spectacular drunkard for a man who refused even a single puff of Ta’K’s giggleweed. It amazed him how the Fernwick suit was half of Mezir’s actual size. A perfect disguise. An embodiment of careless vagrancy.

Rhui, on the other hand, was not exactly the image he’d conjured in his mind when Mezir told him they’d be bringing a White’s guard along with them. The man’s armor was surely that of an honored and decorated warrior; though more than just a little gaudy. Gold, silver, iron, framework clasps, sparks of essence, and a hint of marble in the insignia on his chest all spoke of a hardened soldier. A respected one. It was entirely out of place on the scrawny man’s frame. He looked tentative like he watched the shadows behind him when he was alone. Not that Ta’K could blame him. Rhui’s skin tone did sit well against that of his armor as it jostled about his body, though, like a handsome child wearing their father’s gear before he went on tour. The thought made Ta’K smile as he watched the man limping gingerly ahead of him.

Which meant Lili-Bon smiled. And Rhui was, of course, looking back at her in that exact moment. Damn it. What if he wants to talk now? He looks like he wants to talk. Would Lili? Has she talked to him before? Shit, he's slowing down now. Come on Fernwick- Mezir- Damn it!

Lili-Bon flicked her eyes frantically until she found a painting on the wall to focus on. She’d always loved art. So had Ta’K. Granted Ta’s artistry was vastly different from Blancanan's, which consisted of a plethora of very well-done portraits. Of whom, he had no idea. It seemed Lili-Bon didn’t either, not so far as he could ‘remember’. But she still liked them. She stopped in front of a large oil painting that depicted a woman, nude except her Legend’s mask, standing triumphant among a mountain of slain foes. A plaque beneath it read, “Lady Pyrell. Battle Lun Todos. Circa 1,000 A.E.”

“Ah, Lady Pyrell. You have good taste- Lili-Bon- but we must keep moving.”

Oh thank the Almatra Noctra, it's Mezir! Uh, Fernwick. Right.

Lili gave a polite nod of her head and waited for Fernwick to take his place beside Rhui. Exactly five steps ahead of her. As always. There she stayed, just five steps behind them, the whole way to their destination, without incident. Rhui glanced back more than once during their short walk but luckily Lili-Bon’s hood made it so she could appear not to see him. They eventually stopped at a set of large double doors that looked entirely out of place in the estate’s grandiose marble and golden utopian scheme. Their metal was cobalt blue and two panes of thin glass sat in their center. Beyond them, Lili-Bon spotted a steep set of stairs. And darkness.

“Alright, sir, Rhui… commander?” Fernwick smiled boyishly, a mannerism that was pure Mezir. Rhui seemed non too perturbed by the break of character, or perhaps all of Mezir’s character shared something like that with him- either way, the scrawny man in armor that was “too-big-for-his-britches” couldn’t have been happier.

“Yes, shift captain uh, pal?”

It looked to Lili-Bon like Fernwick took a second to admire Rhui’s sly smile before he cleared his throat and took a swig of whatever horrid mixture Mezir had concocted to create such an alcoholic scent, in what the man swore was water.

Water my ass, pal. Wait, Lili-Bon wouldn’t think that. Would she? Ta’K almost faced another crisis of identity then and there, evidently still somewhat shaken by… well everything. Fortunately, fake Fernwick finished his swig in time to help keep the facade together a bit longer.

“Our post is here-” Fernwick pointed to a spot on the left of the metal behemoth’s threshold, “- and here. Take your pick, I couldn’t give a shit either way. Uhm, sir.” A pause to wow with his dazzlingly pungent smile. “The young miss there will be heading down, down, down into the dark pits of that horrid place for a… personal errand on behalf of Lord White. We stand here and make sure that no one interrupts her. That is all. Then we can go get a drink and celebrate your first successful job as an official Serpint!”

“As if you haven’t already started, you hog.”

“Ah, that is why I said we! Hah!”

The two men seemed genuinely jolly despite their separately complicated circumstances. Mezir’s being that he was playing as another man to manipulate someone he actually enjoyed being around and Rhui’s being that there was very obviously something wrong with him physically. And that he was being manipulated. He’d started their walk with a limp, favoring his left side. Now he was excessively sweaty, dangerously pale. Ta’K spotted black lines on his neckline, just visible below the heavy white armor.

What in the blessed’s bosom happened to him?

Lili-Bon wouldn’t ask, so Ta’K didn’t. In Lili’s image he walked toward both men, as silent as… well, me, I suppose. She bowed her head and stepped between Rhui and Fernwick without any eye contact as they heaved the hulking doors open. Fernwick did much of the actual heaving but Rhui gave it quite an attempt, the good sweaty sport that he was. Neither said a word as Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso walked into the threshold of what Mezir had repeatedly referred to as “White’s Labs”.

“Don’t look around. Don’t explore. Don’t waste time, we don’t have much left. Just get to her and get the fuck out.” Mezir’s face appeared before Ta’K’s mind as it was when they finalized their plans just outside the dank tunnel's entrance. Serious. Stern.

Scared? He’d jested.

“Yes. You should be too.”

When the doors closed behind him and silence sprang into a fitful waltz with the darkness around him Ta’K was very much himself again. Very much scared. Again.

It all felt too close to his time in the mines, to his miniature hovel cored out of the side of a mountain. A mountain he and thousands of other handless slaves decimated in a few year's time with nothing but pickaxes bolted on bracelets about their fresh, fleshy stubs. All to collect pure stone essence for Lord White and his noble warriors who couldn’t absorb it themselves. He’d thought, at least. Seeing White for himself at Schuri’s shop made him reconsider all he thought he knew about the man, the force, that was Grand Councilor White.

Ta’K braved the darkness before him and began a slow descent down a frighteningly steep set of stairs. Every little drop made his right leg scream. The trallendust imbued the wound on either piece of the leg with false nerves, meant to reattach to the real ones. He’d done it on others before, successfully, the attachment wasn’t a very difficult thing if one understood the process. As with all casting, sufficient knowledge made nearly anything possible. Ta’K’s mistake was doing far too much on the fresh injury far too soon. He’d caused something to shift or break, possibly dislodged some of the dust, shot out too much essence- whatever the case, his leg was dying.

Good thing I’m Lili-Bon right now or this would really hurt.

He’d keep the guise and slow gait until the bottom of the stairs that divulged absolute, endless darkness. There, he would use his sight. If anyone down there saw the glow he should be quick enough to hide after. Though the leg wasn’t going to help his plans any. Ta’K abandoned all hope of making it to the last step less than fifteen minutes later, still descending slowly into a darkness that suffocated him with terror and memories to spare. He breathed. He walked. He cried. Sweating and scared. He fell.

The pain was spreading up his still attached thigh and down the slowly dying shin and foot below his knee. Growing like a tumor.

One that he could remove.

Damn it all… Amberosin, please wait just a moment longer.

Ta’K dropped the illusion of Lili-Bon, he was entirely, utterly alone on his trek downward after all. No need to hide when one is so desperately solitary in their own nightmare. The demons always follow with the dark.

The entire right leg was burning now.

Now or never Ta’K Ta’ Uma.

He sat against a wall that was closer than he’d expected. The thought of the stairwell being narrower than he imagined didn’t exactly comfort him, but it was good to know. Refusing to let Amberosin suffer in whatever he set to work. Tied a strip of his own cloak across the border between his thigh and the pulsing trallendust. Tied it as tight as he could. Knotted it. Knotted it again.

Stop stalling. She’s waiting. She’s alone too.

Ta’K grimaced and sent two blades of blue essence down each forearm, their tips sticking out a full blade's length from his wrist. They were too long. He willed them to shrink and they did so promptly. Ta’K lined them up to the bottom border of trallendust that sat against the foot that had become dead weight and took in a deep breath.

Then he pushed down with all his might.