It was late in the night, Ferdinand sat in a temporary office in the capital. The calamity that had befallen his region was something that he could barely maintain. Hundreds of farms all throughout had foreclosed and sold their land, its people flocked to the cities and towns. All the while, their sons and daughters were fighting in a war on another continent for the usurper fool son of the dead king.

The college he sent his arch mage to was destroyed, and her whereabouts were. The most he got was a second hand report delivered From Arch Mage Down of Leltial. It said that there was a suggestion of the arch at the sight of a gruesome murder scene south of Trevias, but that there was no suggestion that she was the one who did it.

If things didn’t improve soon, the whole country would starve within a few years. Even that was nothing compared to the devastation the population King’s Grove would suffer if an entire generation of it ‘s working age population was killed in a foreign war.

The only reason he was in the capital at that moment was in a vain attempt to convince the fool son of Alderaus to rescind his order. Ferdinand would even tolerate an explanation for why his people were targeted exclusively.

As he sat, hurriedly scribbling notes of promise and rapport to everyone who has ever owed him, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He stopped, the candle lighting his already dim room extinguished itself, and he was no longer alone.

“Hello, Uncle Ferdinand.” A voice said. A chill ran up his spine when he heard the feminine voice that spoke with no human emotion.

“Rapture, I presume?” He said.

“Oh, you do remember me. How have you been?” She asked. Every word that dropped from her lips made his bones ache. The surface warmth her words might suggest covering the frozen glacier that was her intentions.

“What are you doing here. This is a violation of the agreement.” Ferdinand said.

“I’m just looking for my dear sister, and I was hoping you might know where she is.” Rapture said. She took a step closer to him, but her entire body froze in place.

“You… You will stay away from her. She does not need, nor desire, your companionship. I will not ask you again, and to force my hand will deliver such a wrath upon you that nothing in this world will save you. Are we understood?” Ferdinand said. He released her from his grip and she barely inconvenienced.

“But she is my dear sister, how can a nice man like yourself be so mean?” Rapture said. She took another step forward. “If anyone would know where she is, it would be you, right?”

Both paused.

The world around them fluttered, only in a subtle way. The thread that each one of them shared tugged ever so slightly. But to know such a feeling, when both of them knew it was not from the other, that meant that it was another member of the Arch. The feeling was anguish, pure pain that can only be delivered by the knowledge of something that wasn’t desired to be known. The feeling of death, to know it so suddenly and dearly that everything you might have thought about it before was made to be a faint embarrassment.

Ferdinand stood from his seat and looked down at Rapture, who for the first and only time in her life wore the feeling of a rational human, one of terror.

“What was that?” She asked. Her voice sounding almost human.

“I do not know, but understand me well, I intend to find out.”

-----

A storm had rolled in over Aeroae. One last shower in the fall before winter, before long the city would start cozying up for the cold bite and harsh wind. One of the downsides of having bare skin. Carrion was in the deepest parts of The Lows, he heard rumors that there was some kind of affliction affecting seemingly random people throughout the city, though it was notably higher in Old Town than anywhere else. He greased the palms of a few Rattlers to get the word out that he was looking for victims. Within an hour of his investigation, he got back word that there was one young child in the Heights that was suffering greatly.

It was always a difficult thing walking through Aeroae, he never knew when one of the random people around might not recognize him and start trouble. Though that wasn’t as much of a problem in Old Town as he often came down to help in situations like this. He arrived at a makeshift orphanage run by a widower. Knocked at the door, and waited for a reply.

A middle-aged woman with the early streaks of gray hair opened the door and met his eyes. She almost fretted at his appearance, but calmed herself when she remembered who he was.

“Are you… him?” She asked quietly. A small shake in her voice telling him that she was not comfortable despite her knowledge of his identity.

“Yes I am, ma’am, is the young one here?” He asked. She nodded motioned for him to follow, they passed by a few children, some seemingly fine, while others lounged around in a daze, none acting as children normally do. There was an air of unease from the moment he entered. He was led to a room in the back of the building, where a young girl was laid in bed by the window.

“Her name’s Annie. She’s been in a state since this morning, she tells me that her head hurts so much that it feels that she will pop. Her eyes are dull even when she speaks, and she’s been in and out of sleep all day. It’s been all I could do to get her to eat.” the woman said.

“What about the other children?” Carrion asked.

“Most of them are alright, a few are just worried about Annie. A few do have something about them, but none as bad as Annie.” She said.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like some time with her.” Carrion said.

“Of course, I’ll be waiting just outside when you’re to go.” She said. Carrion walked in the room and shut the door behind him. He stepped up toward the bedside and looked at the young human girl in front. There was a chair nearby so he pulled it up and waited until she rolled over to see him. There was a single instant of fright in her eyes, but it faded just as quickly.

“There is nothing to fear, little one. My name is Arch Mage Carrion of Skysea Adalay. I came here to see you, are you alright?” He asked. She was quiet, but her eyes searched his for deceit. She was left wanting.

“I hurt. I want to cry, but I can’t.” She said, her voice shook unsteadily. Her breathing was shallow and labored. Her face was fallow and faint. She gripped to life itself.

“I might be able to bring some relief to you, young one. Do you trust me?” He asked.

“I’m afraid.” She said, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Why?” He questioned.

“If I sleep, I might not wake up.” She said. There was no fear in her eyes. Just certainty. The fear she described was how sure that she was right. It pained his heart to see this in one so young.

“I promise you, young one. You will awaken, and you will feel relief. That is my promise to you.” He said. He reached his hand toward the girl, who offered her own. A moment passed, and he felt the beginning of an ache in his own mind. One that grew in severity and agony, his eyes pulsed with his heart, his ears burned, his skull itched. His head genuinely, without exaggeration, felt like it was going to burst with pressure. But he smiled warmly regardless. He waited, her hand in his, until her eyes fluttered, and her breathing calmed. They closed calmly, and smoothly, and she drifted off to peaceful sleep.

Once she was asleep, he rose from the seat he pulled for himself and made his way to the door. Spoke his piece to the matron, and left in short order. He left The Heights quickly, walking down the streets at a pace that would suggest nothing more than a brisk stroll.

Eventually, Carrion arrived to an abandoned part of the lows, it’s buildings too unsafe and damaged to house any vagrants or passersby. He chose one building in particular, inspecting it through and through just to be totally sure that no one was inside, or at risk. Once he was sure it was empty, he walked around the side of the building and put a hand on the wall. His head pulsed with the pain he drew from the girl. But it was nothing in the face of how he felt. He struck the stone wall of the building, pulverized stone and dust blanketed his body.

The pain he felt in his mind was not the result of any benign malady. The pain and anguish it produced was something that would kill any normal person, whether human or beastman. This was an attack produced by a source that could affect an entire city. He struck the wall, his elbow buried into the stone. He pulled it back out and laid his hand against it.

In his mind, deeper than the incredible agony that he endured, there was a much stronger, more base feeling that radiated with the force of ten thousand suns.

Fury.

He struck the wall again, and again, his fits bared out into claws, as he let his body go. His arms thrummed with heat and fury. The stone bricks that he crushed gave was as though there was no suggestion they wouldn’t have otherwise. The razor sharp blades that rested at the end of each finger glowed red and melted the wall as he struck it.

Deep in the threads of his psyche, the ancient instincts of people rumbled with anger and fury. A silent roar that rippled through his person with more force and devastation than any psychic attack might inflict upon him.

The audacity. The pure, contemptible nerve that one must possess to impose a psychic attack on anyone, let alone a child. That is what burned his nerves more than the pain he felt. The fury he felt toward the poor bastard that would attack the people he was charged to protect like this. Every instinct in his body made him want to tear the city down to the ground to find the person who committed this act. He struck the wall again, the smell of molten stone filled his nose and burned his specialized nostrils.

But those were just his instincts.

Deeper beyond, there laid feelings that made the flame of anger seem as though a lone candle before a blizzard. Born from anger, hatred.

Carrion focused his mind, the pain, and all the anger that dwelled in his heart, and brought them before him. In his hand, between his red-hot claws, laid a small orb, black and dark in reflection. It held the pain and hatred that boiled within his mind and heart. He dropped it to the ground and crushed it under his boot. Left inside of him was no longer anger or hatred. Just work that must be completed.

“Arch Mage Carrion.” A voice said. Carrion turned to see the face of a tired looking man, a mage judging from the robes he wore. Dark bags swelled under his eyes, it looked as though this man hadn’t slept in days.

“Identify yourself.” Carrion said. Back to a mage, a classic mistake.

“I can’t do that, you’d be even less receptive if you knew.” The man said.

“Then speak, so I might decide that for myself.” Carrion said.

“I’ll be brief, I am looking for someone. A young woman named Andromeda.” The man said. Carrion felt his heart nearly stop.

“Strange name, not one you often hear. What prompts your search?” Carrion asked.

“I am of the opinion that if I can’t find her soon, a close friend of mine will die.” The man said. Carrion turned to face the man properly.

“But despite that, I can tell you don’t speak the whole truth.” Carrion said.

“The sense of a beastman isn’t something I can’t argue with easily. You’re right.” The man said.

“If you know my name, then you know that I do not speak with those who don’t mean what they say, elaborate on your search if you desire any assistance.” Carrion said, his patience was great, but the circling of a conversation wasn’t.

“I need her blood, and not a small amount.” The man said. Carrion felt his blood boil, a surge of violent rage rocked his bones and threatened to tear him apart, just as he desired to do to this man.

“Mage, are you aware of the old nursery rhyme your people made?” Carrion asked.

“Which one?” The man asked, slightly surprised by the sudden change of topic.

“The one about the Arch Magi.” Carrion said.

“I believe I do.”

-----

Beneath the earth, our ways diverge.

The passing time, our days emerge.

We know our place, and our home.

We make peace, all on our own.

Cross not the highest, for they are alone.

Beg forgiveness, and pray you can atone.

There will be none at all, but smoldering rage.

So fear, ye low, the fire of the Arch Mage.

-----

“Your mother taught you well, for you to know that so casually.” Carrion said.

“Is that a veiled threat, Lord Arch Mage, or am I misunderstanding something?” The man asked. Carrion sighed and looked at the man wearily. He truly didn’t know what he was getting involved with.

“I will not help you, and if you truly intend to save your friend's life, I suggest you look elsewhere. Earning the ire of an Arch Mage is akin to suicide.” Carrion said, the poor fool didn’t understand what game he was playing, and Carrion couldn’t hold that against him.

“I see, that is a shame, because I was hoping to avoid this.” The man said, then he lifted his hand and Carrion’s body rose above the ground.

“Put me down!” Carrion roared, but the man clicked his tongue at him.

“You know? I came to you first because of all the Arch Mages, your skill with magic is pathetic before my own Mage, so I figured that this would be easier. But in general, I’m kind of disappointed that you’re considered high shelf stuff in this region.” The man said. Carrion stabilized in the air. Locked eyes with the man.

“You still have my sympathy regarding the health of your friend, but assaulting me will do nothing to turn me to your cause. I will give you the chance to walk away now before I do something you’ll regret.” Carrion said. The man’s expression became grim and furious.

“Mind your words, with a flick of my finger I could crush your windpipe, and a single twirl of the wrist is all I need to shatter every bone in your body. Now I suggest you answer me.” The man said.

“Instead, I feel I should ask you a question.” Carrion said.

“Does your life not mean anything to you?” The man said.

“I could say the same, now listen. Do you know what an Arch Mage is?” Carrion asked.

“You’re the lackeys of the High Magisters, glorified criminals with a license to act as you please. Yet you masquerade as protectors in the eyes of the people.” The man said.

“No, fool, I didn’t ask you to describe us. What do you think we are? You yourself said that I’m not a Mage or Medea. So why am I called an Arch “Mage”?” Carrion said.

“I couldn’t say, not that it matters, if you value your life, you will tell me all you know of Andromeda.” The man said.

“That is not my place to say, now, this is your last chance to release me.” Carrion said.

“Are you ill? I literally hold your life in my hand, and you believe that you have any say in the matter?” The man said.

“It comes from a confident place, I assure you.” Carrion said, then there was an ungodly noise that resounded through the desolated streets. The man felt his grip on the Arch mage weaken, in a way that only can happen when the weight dramatically increases.

Carrion coughed, and a black liquid erupted from his mouth and fell over his chin. Staining both clothing and fur alike as it dripped over his body.

“Carrion…” Carrion said, his voice distorted and twisted, gurgling in the back of his throat like he was choking. “This was the name, I was given. Do you know what it means?”

The weight the man held in his hand became too, so he clenched with both hands to hold it, but even this seemed to be only a half measure.

“Go on, little human, tell me, do you know?” Carrion said. The black bile dripped in excess to the ground, spreading so far that even the man’s shoes were now deep in it.

“Do you think this little display scares-” The man started, but the beast in front of him shuddered, as its entire body was now covered in the black bile. “-Me…”

The man felt his grip finally slip, and the toxic black sludge fell to the ground with a resounding wet slap. Before he could react, the bile that had pooled at his feet started to shudder and twist into a vague form. It rose to his knees, then his waist, shoulders, eyes, and finally it rose above his head. Then he spread out behind, filling the entire space of the alley they were in. Its mass took on the shape of a massive, hulking maw.

From the depths of the maw, a strangled noise that was an affront to the concept of language echoed from its depths.

“I t s h o u l d .”

Before either could say another word, the man disappeared. Without so much as a flash of light to say anything happened at all. The hulking mass remained for only a brief moment, then it fell to the ground in a wash. Revealing the shape of a man drenched completely in black liquid. Carrion stood alone in the alley, he watched as the black bile that drowned the ground around him dissolved into nothing.

Above all else, what bothered him about this encounter wasn’t that the mage knew his name, nor that he was looking for a fellow Arch Mage. Those things concerned him, but they did not bother him. Anyone with enough will and intention could find them.

No, what bothered him was that the man didn’t know.

Carrion did not personally know Arch Mage White, he barely had an idea about her appearance, and nothing more about her than that High Magister Ferdinand made her an Arch Mage on short notice. What he did know is what an Arch Mage is. One does not become formidable through becoming an Arch Mage, rather it’s the other way around. The formidable become Arch Mage, and the Arch pushes them further. The man who just assaulted him aimed to take the blood of an Arch Mage, though he didn’t know, and that by itself was a terrifying thought.

Carrion turned, but instead of the empty street, he saw two people standing before him.