“Don’t you see, Sechen? This is so much better now.”

Revel spread her arms and twirled, gesturing at the grand whitestone building all around her. Golden accents on the clean stone mirrored the manifestation’s appearance, and the gleam of the sunlight through wide windows matched the gleam of her smile.

“Rainshear took us away from all of our struggles. I finally have somewhere for all my apprentices to live! I can finally create my own little community!”

Revel’s enthusiasm was frightening, especially as Rainshear strode out of a beam of light in the room and put an arm over Revel’s shoulder. The look the two shared was enough to make Sechen sick, since she knew what Rainshear had paid to get this. It had cost Rainshear nothing, and others everything.

It had cost Elach his life.

“Come here, Sechen.” Rainshear said with that same lustful smile, beckoning Sechen forward with chains that clanged like rain on a tin roof. “We can be a family. All you have to do is grab my chain.”

But she wasn’t looking at Sechen. Not at the shadowed corner that Sechen was looking out from, but at another beam of light around which fluttered bright orange leaves. Sechen’s breath caught as the taste of cold steel slid along the underside of her tongue, and she forced her eyes closed as her teeth clenched painfully tight.

Her own voice spoke from the beam, just as she’d expected. “Of course, Rainshear.” Cold hands wrapped around her neck, and Sechen’s eyes were forced open by Rainshear’s controlling Issi. “Just as soon as I take back what’s mine.”

Sechen gasped for breath as she jolted awake, her hands grasping at her throat to try and wrench herself free of an attacker that only existed in her mind. She sat there as cold sweat soaked through the back of her undershirt, shivering against the cool night as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could have lit the whole place up, and years ago she would have, but she’d worked hard to break that habit. Even though she was a manifestation of light Issi, Revel couldn’t stand being woken up to a blinding flash in the middle of the night.

Sechen smiled sadly as reality bled back into her mind, freeing her from the clutches of the horrible dream she’d been suffering. Metea/Irric sat next to the fire, working on something that looked like a metal sheet, but her hands didn’t so much as twitch at the moment. She stared at Sechen, her eyes filled with worry and her muscles tensed, as if she had been holding herself back from dropping her project and rushing over to try and help.

Sechen nodded thanks and Metea/Irric nodded back; her muscles loosening but her worry-filled gaze remaining constant. Sechen looked down at her hands, which were shaking like leaves in a strong wind, and shoved them under her arms. She didn’t want to look weak in front of someone as powerful as Metea/Irric, and certainly not in front of her mysterious savior.

Said mysterious stranger stood a few meters away, conversing with a woman that had identified herself as the field general for the small army they found themselves camped out in. How Prisoner had managed to not only get the army to let them pass, but also give them a place to sleep for the night and as much food as they needed, Sechen didn’t know. And that scared her.

“So we don’t need any kind of appointment to see big ol’ scaly and scary?” Prisoner asked, his tone as unbelieving as Sechen felt. “Last time I visited, you couldn’t go to the bathroom anywhere near the overgrown gecko without a half-ton of paperwork.”

“Things changed.” The general, who had introduced herself as Temery Hoalt, said with a shrug. Her black armor made to resemble dragon scales clattered against itself like a jingling coin purse multiplied by a thousand, and Sechen winced at the noise. “The Gilded Night hasn’t worried about attacks for most of a century, and a nice side effect is that we could reduce tariffs for the merchants. Brought a lot more business to the markets.”

Prisoner grimaced at that, his overly-expressive face making sure Sechen could see it from across the fire-lit clearing. “Is that right?”

“It is.” General Temery nodded. She ran a hand that Sechen knew had obsidian, claw-like fingernails and golden flecks on dark skin over a map of the immediate area. “What you’re looking for will be somewhere in the city, but you might not have access to the markets where it is sold. Or the masters who would make it for you.”

“Good to see some things ain't changed.” Prisoner said sarcastically, crossing his arms and leaning over the map. “The Gilded district still open to everyone?”

“Not everyone.” General Temery shot a look at the back of Metea/Irric’s head, her eyes like golden marbles split by a vertical pupil that shone with intelligence in the firelight. “Citizens of the glacier have to go through screening before they’re even allowed into the city.”

“Of course they are.” Prisoner said with a nod. “What about the rest of us?”

“Aside from the manifestation, who you will have to prove you can both keep under your control and protection at all times, you and the light girl won’t have any troubles.” General Temery retrieved her helmet and gauntlets from the table, shooting Sechen a curious look before running a hand through her short-cut hair. “Do you require an escort, or should I just send word that you will be visiting the city?”

“Neither. Ain’t sure how long it’ll take us to get there, and there are a few pit stops we’re plannin’ on hittin’ on the way.” Prisoner rolled up the map as General Temery donned the rest of her armor. “Thanks for the offer, though. And the place to stay.”

“It is nothing.” General Temery said with the slightest bow. “May the sun shine on your back and cast a shadow on your enemies.”

Sechen watched as General Temery stepped outside the circle Prisoner had carved into the ground, a barrier popping into view the moment nothing from her was left inside. Prisoner flourished his hand and the map disappeared, stepping over to the fire and sitting across from Metea/Irric.

“You can get some sleep, if you want. We’re movin’ at dawn.”

Metea/Irric looked at Prisoner as if he’d grown another head, her eyes darker than usual. “I’m not sleeping in the middle of Hoalt’s armies.”

“No, you’d be sleepin’ in the middle of my circle of protection. Nothing’s gettin’ through this baby, and Temmy knows what’d happen if she tried.” Prisoner flared his Issi for emphasis, invisible motes of purple and tarnished silver coming into view for a split second. “But if you don’t feel safe, I can’t stop you from pullin’ an all nighter. Just promise me you’ll actually sleep when we make camp somewhere more pleasant, yeah?”

“Depends on how pleasant it is.” Metea/Irric said with a forced smile. “Se… ringlet, are you alright?”

“You can use our real names, cloudy.” Prisoner said, gesturing at the barrier around them.

“I’m fine.” Sechen lied. “But I don’t think I’m going back to sleep tonight.”

“And you, shiny?” Prisoner asked, leaning to the right to see Gilt behind Metea/Irric. “Oh, he’s already snoozin’. Good for him.”

Sechen stretched her arms and tried to reach for her shoes, only to grasp her foot around the ankle. She sighed in annoyance and reached into her sleeping bag, fumbling around until she found her detached manifested arm. She pulled it up and out of the bag, tapping the golden plate on her shoulder to the plate on her arm where it would normally connect with her torso.

She didn’t need to do that, as Prisoner had repeatedly told her in the few hours they’d been forced together, but it helped her center herself. She grabbed her shoes as she shuffled the faux-leather and fur covering off herself, fitting the strappy sandal-like footwear over her feet and tapped on the protection and softening Issi runes on the side of each heel. Their minimal draw on her container was almost comforting.

“So you’ve decided to join us?” Prisoner asked as she walked by him. Metea/Irric scooted over to make room on her log, and Sechen nodded thanks as she took the offered seat.

“Not much else to do.” Sechen sighed. “And since we’re all alone now in your safety bubble, how about you spill everything you said you would?”

“Ah, see, you’re forgettin’ that cloudy said she don’t trust herself to keep her lips sealed.” Prisoner gestured at Metea/Irric, who nodded sadly.

“If it’s that important, it’s better you don’t tell me. I could go wait outside if you two wanted to talk about it.” Metea/Irric offered. “I’m still feeling all the bad from Rainshear’s Issi, and it’s not getting any better for some reason.”

“Nah. Shiny ain’t up to it at the moment, and bein’ in the middle of the overgrown gecko’s forces rubs me the wrong way. So maybe we go around the circle and get to know each other a little better, huh?” Prisoner offered with a wide smile. “We’re gonna be stuck with each other for a little while, so might as well know who we’re sleepin’ around.”

“Yeah, great idea!” Sechen clapped her hands together once. “Except for the one, itsy-bitsy fact that Metea/Irric and I already know each other. And I’m not telling you anything.”

“Alright, that’s one vote for and one against. Cloudy, you up for some heart to heart?”

Metea/Irric shot Prisoner a confused look. “No?”

“Well, that puts a damper on things. Even wakin’ shiny won’t get me the votes I need. So I suppose we’ll go for plan B.” Prisoner said with a smile filled with teeth. “Cloudy, you’re about where someone who's been practicin’ for years should be, but your veils are either terrible or nonexistent, and you’ve got enough foreign Issi in you to make a whole ‘nother practitioner.”

Metea/Irric slowly nodded, and Prisoner turned to Sechen. “And you, ringlet, you’re weak. Somehow weaker than sleep here, and he’s been a practitioner for all of two weeks. Most of which he’s spent on two existential bleed-fueled mind vacations. So if you’re not willin’ to talk about your personal life, then we’re gonna talk about how I can make you better.”

Sechen felt like she’d been played, but honestly? Talking about how weak she was would be a nice change of pace from Revel’s constant clueless encouragement that didn’t actually help her at all. Sechen grimaced at the thought of Revel being stuck wherever with Rainshear, and Prisoner snapped his fingers at her, ending with his pointer and index pointed straight at her..

“Now, I don’t know what that grimace's for, but it don’t feel like it’s for this conversation. You good, ringlet?”

“She’s fine.” Metea/Irric said, resting a hand on Sechen’s shoulder with a worried look on her face. “Right, Sechen?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Sechen said appreciatively, patting Metea/Irric’s hand in thanks. “It’s about Revel. But there’s one thing I think we need to get straight before we do anything else.” Sechen turned to Prisoner. “How are you going to ‘fix’ Elach? Unless he’s got another Issi type we haven’t seen, being cut in half is a one way trip to the end.”