Sechen rested her thumb against the silver oval and pressed down, feeling the minutely rough surface under her thumb taking a breath of Issi from her container and storing it in the prism. It felt almost like a second container outside of her body, and as she touched it with her consciousness a dot of golden light burst into being, which then ran a circle around the neck of the lighter until it formed a ring, flashing once before tarnishing to the colour of Sechen’s Issi. Spikes of tarnished gold formed where Prisoner’s flame had been, rising and falling to some unheard beat as they drowned out the firelight, casting their dark gold glow on the world around them.

“So it works like an Issi battery for you. Interestin’.” Prisoner nodded. “Useful for now, and since it looks like you can swap out the prism it should be able to grow with you. Not that you should use it until we’ve struck a deal with old scaly.”

Sechen severed the connection to the lighter, and the light dissolved into motes of Issi. “It’s interesting, I guess. But how does this actually help me?”

“No idea. I never had anythin’ like that when I was at your level, and by the time I had access to that stuff it did nothin’ for me.” Prisoner grabbed Elach’s bundle and Gilt’s book, then with a flourish of his hands made them disappear. “But that’s a good place to end our discussion for the night, so how about we pick it back up tomorrow when we’re on the road?”

“That’s fine with me.” Metea/Irric said. “More time to work on my projects and my next container compression.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Sechen said, fidgeting with the soulflame lighter as her thoughts drifted back towards the ruins that were her headspace. “Gotta work on that too.”

“Hey, you got a minute?”

Sechen didn’t so much as flinch as Prisoner approached her. She was in the middle of pretending to dust the cobwebs out of her headspace, and since she never learned how to expand her container, she’d pretended to have that done an hour ago. Prisoner’s presence didn’t seem to be going away, but Sechen had practiced doing nothing for long swaths of time from Revel’s repeated fruitless attempts at teaching her.

“Alright.” Prisoner grunted, and Sechen felt him sit down in front of her. “You don’t gotta talk back, but I hope you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

Sechen continued to stay still and silent, but she was internally intrigued. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.

Prisoner’s voice suddenly held amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes. I gotta say, ringlet, you’re taking this pretty well. What with your patron gettin’ wispnapped, and by someone you thought was safe to trust no less, but I suppose that’s par for the course; it’s only betrayal if there’s broken trust, otherwise it’s just sabotage.”

Prisoner paused to give Sechen a chance to speak. She didn’t take it.

“Y’know, if I was in your shoes, back when I was younger, I think I’d be beyond terrified. But I was lucky. I had good friends, a patron that cared deeply for all their apprentices, and the path of my life unfolding in front of me like some kind of fairy tale with only happy endings.” Prisoner chuckled. “Y’see, that’s what I wanted for everyone. Still want for everyone, really. A chance to have a chance. To live longer than the people that raised you, to shine brighter than those that came before because they paved the way to a better world for you. And the chance to give those same benefits to those that come after you.”

“But I can tell you didn’t get that. Somewhere along the way, you got thrown to the wayside by the cruel reality that is stagnation. And you found a place for yourself with someone who you thought understood you. Who’d stagnate with you.”

Sechen clenched her fists and held in a breath. How could Prisoner know all of this? It was far too specific to be a guess, and she knew he’d never asked her about any of this. Unless…

“Did you talk to Metea/Irric?”

“No.”

Sechen opened her eyes out of sheer disbelief, and saw Prisoner staring back at her with sadness.

“Your story isn’t rare, sister, in the way it starts. What is rare is that it ain’t ended yet.”

A chill ran down Sechen’s spine. It sounded like Prisoner had spoken from experience. “What gave me away?”

“Your veils.” Prisoner said, miming pressing against a wall between himself and Sechen. “If Metea/Irric is lacking, you’re an open book. You’ve got one measly bond, one focus, a container that’s too big and desolate for how little Issi it’s holdin’, and a ruined headspace that only comes from neglectin’ any kind of self improvement after losin’ all of your bonds. There’s somethin’ else mixed in there, but I get the feelin’ it ain’t any of my business so I’ll keep my nose out of it.”

Prisoner wasn’t just close. He was standing right in front of the truth, and he wasn’t moving for her sake. “So I’m broken. What now?” Sechen shot, gesturing down at herself. “It’s not like you can do anything for me.”

“Not yet, but I can give you a chance to back out.” Prisoner said, snapping his fingers and producing a tiny, diamond-shaped object. He did something else to it and it started to shine like a burning ember, cracks of firelight escaping through a now coal-black exterior. “You break this, and you’ll teleport to Lavassil’s gates. Tell them Sentence is callin’ in a favor, and give them this thing’s remains and Lavassil will hook you up with a brand new bond.”

“And abandon Revel?” Sechen asked, looking at the diamond with temptation that quickly morphed to inward disgust.

“It’s the only way you’re gettin’ outta this. You come with us, and you won’t be getting off the ride. And believe me, it ain’t near as fun as it looks.”

Prisoner forced the diamond into Sechen’s hand and curled her fingers around it. It didn’t feel warm at all, contrary to what she’d expected. In fact, it actually felt a little cooler than the night air. “I came from a good upbringin’, with plenty goin’ for me and I still ended up like this. With a name that ain’t mine and everyone I used to know dead or worse. Maybe that gives you incentive to follow, maybe it makes you wanna run as fast and as far as you can. But I’m givin’ you somethin’ sleepy’s gonna kill for; a choice.”

Sechen shook her head. This was all too much. “Do I have to make the choice now?”

“Of course not. But believe me, the further you go, the harder it’ll be to let go. Amputate a toe so you don’t end up losin’ the whole foot, if you get me.”

“Then I’ll think about it.” Sechen said, wrapping the diamond in her clothes before stuffing it back into her pack.

“Know that we’d be happy to have you, but we’d also understand if you wanted to go. But you should probably talk to cloudy before you decidin’ anything. She’s takin’ this way harder than you, even if she ain’t showin’ it on the outside.”

Sechen leaned around Prisoner to see Metea/Irric working on the same metal sheet she’d been working on for a few days now. Her motions were practiced and fluid, but Metea/Irric sat in silence doing only the minimum requirements for her project. She wasn’t humming along to some song she’d heard a long time ago, or flourishing her stylus when she finished carving a rune. To an outsider, she simply looked focused on her work. And though Sechen wasn’t exactly Metea/Irric’s closest friend, she knew enough to know that Prisoner was right. How exactly he knew that, though, Sechen didn’t have a clue.

“So you didn’t talk to cloudy.”

Sechen jumped at Prisoner’s voice, the first time he’d spoken since they left General Temery’s forward camp. She had a myriad of excuses prepared; she couldn’t find the time, Metea/Irric didn’t want to talk, she’d gotten absorbed in her mental training and lost track of time, to name a few. But one look at Prisoner’s expression and she knew he would see through any lie she tried to spin.

“I didn’t.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Well, why not?” Prisoner asked. “She’s walkin’ five steps in front of us, and she don’t even register our conversation. She ain’t in a good place, ringlet, and I’m pretty sure that me talkin’ to her would just make everything worse. She’s got her mind locked up like a steel trap, and I ain’t gonna spring it.”

“That’s not like Metea/Irric.” Sechen said, but as she watched Metea/Irric trudge down the road faster than her own walking pace she lost confidence in her words.

“Maybe it ain’t.” Prisoner shrugged, then leaned around Sechen to get in her face. “Prove me wrong.”

“I cannot get a good read on her thoughts at the moment.” Gilt added, his words sliding over Sechen’s eyes so she could read them as much as hear them. “You say she has no practice with wards, and yet she blocks my Issi nonetheless.”

“No offense, but that’s because you’ve got the Issi equivalent of half a rock.” Prisoner laughed.

“Saying no offense does not negate an offense.” Gilt muttered, and that was the last thing Sechen heard from them as she jogged up to Metea/Irric.

It might have actually been worse than what Prisoner had said. Sechen waved a hand in front of Metea/Irric’s face to absolutely no reaction, and when she tried to start up a conversation she received the same silence as before. But it wasn’t like Metea/Irric was ignoring her, no; it was like she didn’t register that Sechen was here in the first place.

“So… how’s it going?” Sechen asked.

Metea/Irric blinked twice, then looked right through Sechen. After a moment she seemed to recognize that Sechen was, in fact, standing beside her, and instead looked blankly at her as if Sechen had yet to say anything. So she repeated herself.

“Not great.” Metea/Irric sighed. “Revel got taken because of Rainshear, who bet my life on a competition to go pick up her prize, I got Elach killed, and now there’s no way I can go back home since Glasrime and Rainshear would both prefer I stopped living.”

“We don’t know that Rainshear got Revel taken.” Sechen said, but she didn’t believe her own words. And apparently it came out in her voice, because Metea/Irric shook her head sadly and let out a low, humourless laugh.

“Of course Rainshear had something to do with it. Even if she didn’t actually do it herself, she had the power and influence to make sure someone else did. And then she used us as a sacrifice to go ‘rescue’ Revel and make herself out as the savior.” She shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about what those two are doing right now.”

“If Rainshear told Revel that we died fighting for her, she wouldn’t put out right away. Revel might not have been a good teacher, but she was like a sister to me.” Sechen said defensively. But inside, she knew that was her hope talking.

“So if not now, then when?” Metea/Irric sighed. “Revel’s not going to mourn forever, and Rainshear won’t wait forever. But the worst part is I didn’t do anything to stop this.”

“Hey, don’t… you were under Rainshear’s control just as much as Elach and I were. Maybe even more.” Sechen said, but Metea/Irric wasn’t listening.

“I didn’t do anything about anything until the night before. And I only talked to Elach about what I was scared of. Nobody that could actually do anything to help us, just the new guy who I’d known for all of a day because I was scared I was wrong.” Metea/Irric brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and a breeze blew them over her head. “You know, I didn’t actually think Rainshear was going to sell us out. I thought we’d been friends long enough that she wouldn’t betray me, that she actually cared for the wisps in the glacier and wanted to protect them. That she had a reason to control me with her Issi. My stupid hope made everything so much worse, and now Revel and Elach are paying the biggest prices for all my mistakes.”

Metea/Irric gestured at herself, then tapped the pendant hidden under her shirt. “And I come out of this pretty much untouched, with the chance to make my life all that much better thanks to Prisoner. How is that fair? I should be the one thrown over Gilt’s back, or the one kidnapped by Rainshear. But I’m not.”

Metea/Irric slammed her fist into her palm, a blast of wind sending Sechen reeling and splattering her clothes with water. “So I can’t let myself get distracted until everything’s fixed. Until Revel’s rescued, Elach’s back with us, Rainshear and whoever attacked you and Revel are brought to justice, and Glasrime’s brought low for letting all of this happen as they sat by and watched.”

“U-um… uh…” Sechen stuttered, taken aback by Metea/Irric’s rant as words failed her.

“See? You can’t even tell me I’m wrong.” Metea/Irric pushed the air in front of Sechen, and a wall of wind shoved her back into walking with Prisoner and Gilt, who had gone silent at some point.