Prodding the cold body of the kilt guy, I notice something about him to be rather bizzare. I’m no forensic examiner, nor am I a professional coroner, but with my experiences, I can say he feels oddly renitent despite his method of passing. It’s hard and not like the rigor mortis hard that I’m accustomed to, but a scaly hard… He also has some strange appendix sticking out of his kilt, and it doesn’t seem to be a penis either. More so, “Like a lizard,”

“Not ‘like a lizard’ the scoundrel is a reptoid. Have you forgotten already?” The know it all plant clarifies for me, “Our most hated enemies… The Primeval Masons,”

Not ours, yours.

“Actually no, Jeff, we’re in conflict with them as well.” With no surprise, I stand corrected once more.

Sigh, it doesn’t surprise me that this cult hates the lizard cult with what I’ve heard. These guys are sworn enemies with every Bob, Dick and Joe down the road as far as I know.

Though strangely, whilst I’m examining the lizard, Lazari drags away the noble guy. With a big, wholesome smile as well. Her happiness infects me as I find myself holding a grin.

“Mmm, what a good kid.”

“Wow, sometimes I forget she’s a kid,” Lily kicks the reptoid as she rubs her chaffed wrists, “She needs to smile more.”

That she does, but more topical. “Why the Hell did you run away?”

“Run away? I got abducted!”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you stayed with me. And you were someway, somehow, separated from me… Did you at least say no? Tsk, barring that, why did you even flutter away?”

I get a bout of silence from my feathered companion, followed by a cheap imitation of a songbird, sounding way too guttural.

“Hey man, I tried to stay with you guys but like, I saw a thing…”

“And how does that translate to being unable to stay by my side?”

“No comment.”

What? No comment you say? That phrase in itself implies that there is nothing to be said. But that is wholly untrue, considering that 'no comment' was said, meaning that there is, in fact, a comment. So what does saying no comment achieve? What does it mean?

Hmm, I guess, at it’s core, it’s a paradoxical statement, meant to confuse and twist a situation. Ultimately you made a comment, however, the content being no comment runs wholly counter to the account that you made a comment. Does this mean you’re a liar? Or are you one who knows none the wearier?

Is that the true nature of this statement? “I think I’ve debunked it.”

“Mhmmm, one hundred percent. Good job, Jeffy,” Lily applauds me with her hands up high.

Around now that those rampant thoughts are settled, “I feel like I’m forgetting something…”

“Don’t think so. If you can’t remember it, then it ain’t important.”

Eh, fair enough.

“So what was I doing anyway?”

An interjection comes before I can even begin to press Lily for an answer, that is, “Looting!”

“You mean sequestration, right?”

“Ah, yeah, that…”

"Good, just to make sure."

It’s a principal of mine to never say anything that could be taken as incriminating evidence against me should I somehow be placed in the court of law. You never know what might happen, and playing the fool works better than most people think.

Regardless, the requisitioning of goods is something we can do very safely within the confines of the law in the spirit of bona vacantia, so lest we inculpate ourselves, we shouldn’t be in trouble with any other authorities.

“So you’re tellin’ me that killing all those guards on the way here is okay?” Brows raised and sack half full, Laffer tosses me a query, “Like we aren’t going to be more wanted?”

I can’t help but shake my head at his idyllic, almost childlike thinking, “Murder is illegal, but we could argue that they offended our religion and thus we did so in the name of our god. But wait! You cultists don’t worship a god do you?”

“Wait, so you’re saying that the only reason we’re actually getting bounties against us is because we don’t worship a god?”

Why are you asking me? “I dunno man, I don’t make the rules.” Do I look like a barrister? I just know a few tricks on how to skirt around the law and that's it.

Shrugging my shoulders, I move to loot acquisition some lost goods. Probably the only thing I find joy in nowadays…

…

She was happy. Not just happy, but truly happy. Euphoric!

To smile. That’s to be happy is it not? Lazari couldn’t remember the last time she smiled, but she knew she never smiled this wide.

Even Little Miss Shiv positively glowed with that soothing maroon. It was the only thing that she truly shared amity with. Jeffrey and Lily were good and she liked them, but Lazari always felt uneasy around them. More so to do with their being rather than how they carried themselves.

Little Miss Shiv was the one she trusted the most. She was always there for her. Even when her father rejected her or when her town was razed, Little Miss Shiv was always there.

And now Little Miss Shiv told her that this one right here was the one.

Do it. Release yourself. Feeeed me.

It wouldn’t be the first time Little Miss Shiv asked of her to do something like this, but it was a bit different this time. Little Miss Shiv wouldn’t be helping her this time.

She was going to kill with her own hands. Kill this insolent swine and avenge her long gone mother.

Lazari’s smile grew wider still. Just seeing those pupils dilating in fear fed her euphoria. In quite a literal sense. Gagging the little pig was the right choice. It’s squealing would no doubt ruin the mood.

Now all she that was left was to run through a system that Little Miss Shiv had practiced with her countless times. Except this time, she had to do it with the object of her vengeance. And this left no room for faults.

There was this one chance and this one chance only. No unforeseen accidents could be afforded, so barring every entry she was in total pitch black. Not that the dark was a problem. Seeing was of no issue though she could’ve done with a bit of rest, she would just have to make do.

Beginning the procedure, though, it may be better to say ritual. The ex-noble squirmed but the demonic cyphers were still carved on. Each character was imprinted with near perfect subscript like an intricate anatomisation despite her quivering hands.

And it was done. With not a single interruption had she glossed every inch of skin with that strange script. That was Little Miss Shiv’s cue to step in.

Well done.

Well done. Those words lingered deeply.

It was all worth it. Even with shaky hands and an irrate body, Lazari couldn’t be happier. And with it came the vindication that she waited oh so long for. It was a phrase she had heard many times in her short life so far, but not once had it ever been directed to her. Not even the one she looked up to had uttered such words.

The black athame, bursting with that red light broke out of it’s matted shell and engulfed the sacrifice prepared. Offered with spite and vengeance, it was the best meal the athame could ask for. Nothing else would be truly authentic enough to satisfy it. The little bit of gratitude iced over was also nice. Like a delectable aftertaste, it only enhanced the meal. It wasn’t something the athame usually got.

Such an innocent child. But the athame couldn’t bring itself to consume that innocence. It was too far gone to be able to savour such delicacies and the little demon was nice. Very unlike others. She grew on the little shiv.

Little Miss Shiv was sated, no longer bound by the curse of the Corrupt Realm. Lazari would be very pleased with her true form that Little Miss Shiv was assured of.