“Nothin’ from the rocks, nothin’ from the animals, and nothin’ from the miscellaneous merchants in between. Seems like our last hope is old scaly himself.” Prisoner sighed, setting down a plate of eggs and toasted dark brown bread in front of Sechen. “How’s cloudy lookin’? She doin’ any better?”

Sechen shrugged and leaned down on her elbow. The search hadn’t exactly gone well so far, and she was not looking forward to bargaining with Hoalt. Even with Prisoner there.

“She seems alright sometimes. But it’s like there are three of her in there.” Sechen said as she poked the yolk with her fork, the runny yellow insides breaking free for a moment before she soaked them up with her toast. “One’s like she was back at the glacier; she blames herself a little, but Rainshear way more. Talking with that Met… I mean cloudy was a little sad. It seemed like she knew what was going on with her. She apologized so many times.” Sechen shook her head sadly. “But that was only for maybe twenty minutes. She’s fading away.”

“That ain’t good.”

“That’s an understatement.” Sechen sighed. “Then we’ve got the other two; the one that blames herself for everything, withdrawing from us little by little until she’s going to be gone for good, and the one that’s pushing forward way too hard and who won’t even talk to me about what happened. You know what happened to cloudy, right?”

“In the fight, or way before that?”

“Before that.”

“Yeah, I know thanks to her not havin’ any veils. But you knew that.” Prisoner wove his fingers together and planted his elbows on the table. “She’s separatin’ somethin’ fierce. And there ain’t enough space in that body of hers for two separate minds. Metea on one end, Irric on the other, and neither of them quite knowin’ what’s what since they’ve been bound together for so long. Did you ask each of them what I asked you to ask?”

“Yeah. And they all said basically the same thing.” Sechen set her toast down and looked at the ceiling. “Boiled down, they don’t like being separated. It was a consensual merging on both sides, and she’s lived like that for so long that being broken into her old personalities is terrifying. But what can we do to help her? This isn’t something like Elach’s problem, is it?”

Prisoner chewed on his words, and his breakfast, for a moment. “No, it ain’t. This is a crisis of conscience caused by someone keepin’ those two halves from perfectly mergin’, and until that crisis is solved we can’t get to work on finishin’ the work Metea and Irric started. Rainshear really bungled up a whole lotta people’s lives, didn’t she?”

Sechen snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Prisoner chuckled. “And I might be a great, resourceful person, but I ain’t a therapist. Whatever cloudy’s goin’ through, she’s gonna need our help. Or maybe she won’t. I don’t have a clue; maybe her Issi withdrawals will clear up tomorrow mornin’. All I know is that if we can’t get her back to normal soon, we ain’t gonna have to worry about her.”

“Because she’ll be gone?”

“Spot on.” Prisoner grimaced. “I’d like to rescind my earlier statement about cloudy’s difficulties becomin’ somethin’ amazing. It won’t. It’ll destroy her, one way or another, and the person you know’ll either be dead or gone. And considerin’ she’s our second best fighter right now, we can’t afford to lose her.”

“Are we speaking about Metea/Irric?” Gilt’s words lazily floated over Sechen’s eyes, and she didn’t actually hear a word of what he said. She turned to look at the bedroom Prisoner shared with Gilt, and he sauntered out with a wide yawn a few moments later. “Her Issi is in constant flux due to the departure of Rainshear’s overwhelming control. If we could find a way to settle it, there is a chance that would give her enough time to remedy her issues on her own. Allow her to give herself a good talking to, so to speak.”

“Good plan, shiny. Only problem is we need to un-flux her Issi, which is yet another thing I ain’t got a clue as to how to do. Believe it or not, that didn’t come up in my active years.” Prisoner spun his empty plate on the table, then sighed. “Yet another thing we gotta count on old scaly for, I suppose.”

“Speaking of which, how are we supposed to get into the night district? Revel tried the first time we were here, but she couldn’t get both of us past the first hurdle of bureaucracy.” Sechen asked. “You obviously know Hoalt; are you just going to walk in?”

“‘Know’ is a little too strong of a word. Worked with, yeah, but my name wasn’t on the papers. He ain’t got a clue who I am. But I’m pretty strong, and we’ve got a lot to offer in trade, so I’m hopin’ one or the other’ll catch his interest.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t split up the loot from the glacier? You’re going to give it to Hoalt to fix sleepy?” Sechen shook her head. “You could’ve just said that, you know, instead of giving terrible excuse after terrible excuse.”

“Hindsight.” Prisoner shrugged. “Now, before we head off, we need to decide if we’re takin’ cloudy along with us.” He held up two fingers, the purple lines on them glowing with Issi. “I can put her back in a safe state and have shiny carry her, or I can lock the place down and we leave cloudy here. You think she’s got enough brain power to make that decision on her own right now, ringlet?”

Sechen pushed her chair back and shoved the rest of her breakfast into her mouth. “I’ll go ask her.”

“Want me listenin’ in?” Prisoner offered.

“Yeah. Just in case she’s… unstable.”

Prisoner snapped his fingers, and wisps of his purple and silver Issi appeared everywhere around the room. “Good luck, Sechen. Hope Metea/Irric’s in a listenin’ mood.”

Sechen nodded at the not-so-subtle que that she didn’t have to use nicknames for the time being and knocked on the closed door that led to the room she’d shared with Metea/Irric for the last two nights. “I’m coming in.”

Silence. That probably wasn’t good. Sechen pushed the handle down and pulled the door open, revealing a room with so much water damage that they definitely weren’t getting that security deposit back. The walls were dripping, the beds waterlogged, and deep scratches cut into random surfaces that looked like some sort of beast had run rampant in the small-ish space. And Metea/Irric was at the center of all of it, muttering to herself in a sphere of roiling water and wind as she wove intricate patterns with her hands that filled and drained of Issi before they could launch their techniques.

“Sechen. You didn’t knock.” Metea/Irric said with annoyance.

“I did, you were just too lost in your own head to hear.” Sechen said, stepping around a puddle that was probably making trouble for their downstairs neighbor. “We’re heading out. Do you want to come with us or stay here?”

“You aren’t leaving me behind.” Metea/Irric said, standing to her full height in the blink of an eye as a wind blew her around. Her eyes were too focused, and Sechen shuddered under her intense gaze. This wasn’t her friend. “When are we leaving?”

“As soon as we can.” Sechen said, and Metea/Irric nodded and shouldered past her. Sechen stumbled to the side and slammed into the wall, a board bucking under the hit and leaking water out of the cracks. “Holy hells, you did a number on this place.”

“I’m soooorry, are you the one going through stuff that makes your head split and gives you an hour of lucidity a day? No? That’s me?” Metea/Irric sneered at Sechen. “When you have your own breakdown, I won’t yell at you when you destroy our room, alright? So shut up and back down, ringlet.”

“If my friend wasn’t in there somewhere…” Sechen muttered, wiping her shoulder off and avoiding another puddle. She walked over to her bed and threw off the fairly intricate blanket, which happened to have a huge slash right down the middle of it. And just like the sheets and mattress under it, it was soaking wet.

“You comin’ out, ringlet?” Prisoner called.

“Just have to hang some stuff up in the bathroom. Cloudy soaked this place.”

“Gotta see this for myself.” Prisoner grunted as Sechen heard a chair slide across the wooden floor. He poked his head in and whistled in acknowledgement. “That’s one waterlogged abode. I’ll deal with everythin’ when we get back, so just leave it for now, sister.”

Sechen shrugged and threw the blanket back on her bed. “It’s your coin.”

“How far away is the night district? We’ve been walking for almost an hour.” Metea/Irric complained, kicking a rock in the street with enough force that it shattered into pebbles. “You do know where we’re going, right?”

“To the middle, in the shadow of the pillar. The paradoxically round shadow of the square tower in the city without sunlight.” Prisoner pointed at the tower and made a bizarre motion with his fingers, pointing two of them out with his thumb raised, then lowering his thumb as he jerked his hand upwards. “Hard to get lost with a beacon like that.”

“And you can’t do what you did last night because…” Sechen trailed off, looking at Prisoner for an answer.

“Because it’s such a nice ‘day’ out. What, you ain’t enjoyin’ the walk? You want me to teleport everyone right to the gates of the district that’s got ten times the security as the rest of the city combined?” Prisoner shook his head. “Last night I walked us far enough that old scaly’s Issi was thin enough that he wouldn’t notice. Or if he did notice, he wouldn’t care. Now that we’re gettin’ closer to his humble abode, we’ve got to be real careful that we don’t put out any shows of Issi that’re too flashy or dangerous. And by we, I mean me.”

“Because we’re too weak. We get it.” Metea/Irric snapped. “And why are you forcing ringlet to walk without her Issi? Don’t you want us at our best, or are we that useless to you?”

“It’s fine.” Sechen said, taking a deep breath that slightly hurt her lungs. She felt a little stronger than yesterday, and yesterday she’d felt a little stronger than the day before. “He’s doing something to me to make this go faster. I don’t know what, but there’s no way I’m feeling this much better compared to a few days ago on my own merit.”

“Guilty as charged.” Prisoner raised a hand and scratched two lines into the air in front of him. Sechen felt her legs grow heavier, her lungs struggling for breath, but she could still push through. Unlike a few days ago. “Just takin’ some of the mental strain away; you’re still strugglin’, your brain just ain’t complainin’ as much. And don’t worry ‘bout hurtin’ yourself, I’m watching for that precipice so I can walk you back when the time comes.”

“So how much longer until you won’t have to do that?” Sechen coughed. Prisoner split the two lines with a horizontal one, and Sechen was back to feeling alright. Not perfect, like when she was relying on her Issi, but alright. “A week? A Month?”

“Probably close to a month.” Prisoner tilted his head in thought. “Maybe two. We can’t risk your spine and lungs, since they’re pretty instrumental to the rest of your body’s workings. I can guarantee you that in three months we’ll be workin’ on bulkin’ up another part of you.”

“Three months.” Sechen nodded. “That’s not too long.”

“Feels like this walk’s going to take three months.” Metea/Irric muttered. “You’re sure you can’t just teleport us up to the night district? Really really sure?”