Hurried footsteps. Frantic panting. Yelling.

  Holly felt tender. Weak. suffocated. She had been wrapped in a sheet of coarse furs so tightly she couldn't move her own arms. With every bounce, every shake, she could feel her skin chaff, but she couldn't complain, couldn't so much as whisper, her throat far too raw for anything but hoarse gasps.

  She knew she was being held and carried by hand. By who? She could feel their small, wiry limbs digging into her, smushing her harder into those awkward, painful angles. Her only connection to the outside world came from a sliver of light pouring through a gap, nothing but piercing white and blurring green.

  A voice reached her. Ceaseless, choked, kiddy. Familiar.

  "It can't be her. It can't, it can't, it can't, please, please, not her, not-"

  It made Holly livid. If only she wasn't so exhausted, she would give the whiny child a good wallop! But that morning, she had woken up smothered, crushed from all sides just like this, and had already spent herself pulling her way out.

  Yes, she remembered now. She heard a sound, something completely indescribable and wicked, so close she wanted to puke with fear. Everything hurt. She had seen them, that baldie healer and that son of his with the nasty attitude, and begged them for help, for someone, anyone to help her, but one fell, and the other ran, never to look back.

  And then... And then what?

  And then she was here. Hurt, afraid, mad.

  The mixture of ugly feelings only made her more tired. She didn't want to lose the fight, not here, not now, but her eyes closed, and suddenly all she wanted was to bury herself on her bed, nuzzled under the covers. She wanted to sleep so bad...

  ------

  Sobbing. Whispered arguments. The tapping of a cane.

  Everything was dark again, but she was free. Holly felt as if she had been dipped into the river and then thrown right over some old covers, feeling the uncomfortable tickles of the fur strands on her soaking wet body.

  This wasn't her bedroom. The sounds were all different, distorted. She couldn't hear the rustling of branches or the wings of the bees. At least, the voices she recognized.

  Holly turned on her side, and her head swam. Before she knew it, she was spewing gunk, the acrid smell of bile tinged with some weird, metallic tang that hit her nose like a punch. She somehow felt as if she hadn't eaten in days yet filled to the throat, her belly wriggling around as if stuffed with snakes.

  She didn't know where here was, but she had to get out here. Trying to prop herself on her arms, she found herself as tough as wet clay, immediately falling on her face. Scared, she dragged herself across the floor, flinching when her hand touched rough stone rather than more fur, or wood, or even dirt, any sort of normal ground like that.

  "H-Holly?!" someone screamed. It took her a few, very tense second to recognize the voice as Hazel's, her sister, and not any of the few other girls in the Hollow, just as mean as the little lads. She had never heard her like this.

  Ahead, there was light. A single torch in the distance, flames bathing everything in orange and turning everyone into indistinct, confusing silhouettes. She didn't know which was Hazel, so she kept crawling forwards.

  "Holly! Holly!" Hazel cried. "I'm- Let me go!"

  "You fool!" Another voice. Loud , commanding, yet oddly comforting, she could always tell Elder Seneschal apart. If he was there, it meant everything would be okay. "We can't be sure yet!"

  "Then why did we bring her here?! Y-you know it's her!" Hazel said.

  "I said stay! Let me make sure first, then we go in!" The Elder's cane clacked against the floor, one particular blotch growing closer and closer. A mess of shapes stood in between them, but she didn't mind! The Elder was here, she was sure he could help! "Holly? Is that you, love?! Talk to me!"

  "Ah... ah..." she cried for help. She couldn't get up! The floor hurt!

  "I need you to say something! Anything!" he said. "Or show us you can hear me at least, any way you can!"

  She tried, as hard as she could. When words didn't come to her, she reached with a hand, which flopped in his direction like a pouncing spider, fingers pale, soft, spindly. Something felt different about them somehow. Why didn't her body work as it should?

  Before she could get to her Elders feet, however, something stopped her. The mess of shapes, smooth in part and harsh in others, strong and heavy, going from the ground to out of sight above.

  Bars.

  "Ah," she whimpered, some nameless sensation sinking deep into her chest. She explored with her fingers, looking for any gap to let her out, but there were none. Why? Where was she? she knew the Hollows so well but had never seen this. "Aah!"

  "Holly!" Hazel cried. "Please! What happened to- aagh!"

  "Idiot! I said wait!" Elder Seneschal's silhouette turned, as Hazel's backed away, clutching her head. "If you are Holly, our Holly, speak up! Say something, anything! And if you are not..."

  "Aaaah!" She screamed, regretting it immediately as her mouth filled with the taste of iron. "Aah..."

  "You were talking before, remember?!" he whispered, and desperate, she tried to grab him through the bars, but he stepped away. "At the healer's shack! You said- hey, no!"

  Elder Seneschal was pushed aside as Hazel dove, grabbing her hands with enough strength to hurt. Shocked as she was, Holly couldn't back away, only admire the way her felt warm and soft like she had never realized. The way her fingers intertwined with hers, it was almost like they were meant to fit together.

  "Oh, Holly, why did it have to be you?! Why are you-"

  "Stop!"

  Recovered, Elder Seneschal rushed in their direction.

  When she felt his hand around both of theirs, the calluses on his leathery skin pressing again her knuckles, she could have cried.

  "Oh, love, how could this have happened to you?" he whispered softly.

  Everything would be okay. The Elder was wise, if somebody knew what happened to her and how to fix it, that would be him. She would be okay and out of here soon, she just had to believe.

  "Except, you did, and you weren't."

  Like magic words chanted, the illusion was torn apart.

  In a flash of red, the Elder was gone, and her strength returned. The blurring outlines of her cave her once beloved room came into contrast, shadows and light falling into place as they would years later, once her eyes grew used to it.

  She didn't feel Hazel's fingers extricate themselves from her grip, hardskin already settled and tough, but she did see her stand back, looking down at her prone form like some type of squashed bug.

  "Here, your Elder finally lost the last of his nerves, canned Hazel over the head and dragged her away," the Thing that once again wore Hazel's face said, emotionless. "You spent several days in pain and in the dark as your insides settled. When he finally accepted what happened, you were nearly starving."

  She let her hand stay up, enjoying those last few seconds of lingering warmth. Once it faded, it came back down with enough fury to shake the cavern and create a spiderweb of cracks. She pushed herself to a kneeling position, openly glaring at the intruder.

  "Couldn't you let me have this one?!" she said, her voice echoing all across the mines. "This one time! After everything that has been happening, just this one time!"

  "You would have broken out of the delusion from your own accord, like before," it said.

  "If it's going to end the same way, then why not let it happen? Ughhh..." Her stomach quivered in displeasure. She felt like a shambling pile of bruises, even if at a glance she couldn't see any wounds. "What did you do to me?"

  "Nothing." The Thing wearing Hazel's face said.

  "And the last time I was here?" she said.

  "You're always here. And nothing, either." It said.

  "Who do you think you're kidding? I saw you summon all those, those, thingies!"

  "All they did was obey you. That you could not control them is your fault." The Thing shrugged. It was hard to tell what it truly felt. It's face was expressionless, and it's body hung motionless, shoulders loose and arms limp to its side. Only its eyes burned with terrifying intensity.

  She stood up, holding her bars for support. Only then did she notice that in this weird, in between state of her room, the burning black spikes had never been clasped around the entrance to her room, its lock once again nothing but an old padlock, heavy but rusty.

  A nostalgic idea came to mind, one that came with on small amount of cringing shame. Stumbling her way to the door, she grabbed the padlock through the gaps. When she was young, barely a head taller than the lock itself, she had to put every single one of her muscles into bending it apart. Here, a simple twist ripped it to chunks, letting her free.

  The Thing remained on its spot, watching her, unblinking. Looming over the younger version of her own sister, she realized how difficult it was to not be the one intimidated. Still, finding an inkling of courage, she stared down the uncanny, diminutive creature, and said: "what do you want from me?"

  "I'm not sure," the Thing said.

  "Then why are you even here?!"

  "I've always been here."

  She frowned. "But I don't remember ever feeling you, or seeing you before that time in Treil."

  For the first time, it glanced away, with such fixed intensity it was as if it had spotted something right behind her. She whirled, suddenly alert, but only found the impenetrable darkness of the tunnels leading deeper into the mines, the ones she never had the opportunity to explore. She turned back, and it was staring at her again. "I was neither a thing that could be felt or spoken to, until I was."

  "... You aren't Hazel, are you?" She knew the answer, yet she still needed to ask.

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  "I'm not," it admitted, and the sense of relief made her slump against the bars.

  "Then who are you?" She asked, but this time it didn't answer. Didn't so much as make mention of thinking her question through. Sighing, she tried again. "W-why did you bring me here? Is where is here? Is this a dream, o-or inside my head somehow?"

  "I didn't. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. As for where here is... yes but no. Here is here. " it said.

  "I-I don't get it."

  It looked away again, eyes rolling so far she could see the red of its optical nerves, assuming it truly had any. She waited, and waited, seconds blurring into what felt like minutes before it focused on her again. "I wanted to ask you a question, but I don't think you're smart enough to give me a satisfying answer yet."

  She froze. For a moment, she could swear she heard a tinge of bitterness in its voice, but it was gone so fast she wasn't sure. "Excuse me?"

  Something broke behind her. She jumped, turning just in time to see a crack cross the darkness behind her as if climbing a solid wall. She looked down by her feet, only now noticing how the damage she had caused spread like an infection, crisscrossing in between her legs and over every surface available.

  "This is just pretext," the Thing said. "Our time would be over sooner or later. It's better this way."

  "W-wait! We still have a lot to talk about!" she said. "I don't even know what you want!"

  The crack spread all the way to the far wall. it touched the iron holder, spiraling over the wooden body of the torch it held, and up its flame, freezing it in place.

  "I already told you, didn't I? You're too stupid to get it. We would be talking in circles for all of eternity, and everything I said would go into one ear and out of the other," it said, and then to her shock, smiled. It was such a perfect replica of the way Hazel used to smile, that small and knowing quirk of the lip like she had just figured your biggest secret. "But he will do something about it."

  "He?"

  "Menoux."

  The fire broke, turning into a shower of bright, dimming sparks, and plunging them into pitch black. She couldn't move, the memories beneath the Citrine moon coming back to her like a flood. When the ground finally crumbled beneath her, she did not so much as scream.

  All she did was listen to that final whisper, as everything faded into nothing.

  "I will be waiting."

  ------

  The Crackling of flames. Boots grinding on hard ground. Then, merciful silence.

  How many times did that make? Darkness, an unfamiliar ceiling, an unwelcome rest. The illusion no longer had any effect on her. Lesser Hollow was gone, her room was long buried, and she might never see Marquise's manor again.

  She decided to stay down for now. How long until the next shoe fell? She felt exhausted and mulched, surely a few seconds on this oddly warm floor wouldn't kill. No, if neither her dad nor that giant had put her down, then she had earned herself a couple seconds.

  The world around her came into view by the pieces. She noticed the odd pink, or red, tinge to the stone in the ceiling, the veins of more conventional gray. Beneath, she felt the ground lined with straw and dirt, smells both foul and delicious mingling into something dizzying and uncomfortable. Sweat, food, blood, flowers.

  She felt her hand clench, and the stump of her left arm rub against the ground, tender. Lifting it in front of her eyes, her Will reacted, as if expecting some kind of trick cast over her wound. No such thing, of course. A thousand arms met nothing but her, the three smooth saliences where her new limb slowly grew pulsing with aches. Had she been woken while her legs recovered after Lesser Hollow, would they have felt like this?

  "Holly."

  She stirred at the name, taking a few seconds to recognize who had called before jolting upright.

  Where the cave she once called her room had been a long, straight, if spacious series of branching corridors, her current captivity was the opposite, a wide but comparatively shallow hole mined on the wall. Its bars were sturdy and thick, worn but not aged, the heavy metal gate leading to a hallway with a tall ceiling. She peeked similar cells lining the opposite wall, their front neighbor in particular hastily curtained by heavy sheets.

  The voice hadn't come from outside. Looking one way and the other, she found nothing, until a twitch by the back clued her in to the fact she wasn't alone in here, the small shape left as her companion simply camouflaged the way it had been carelessly dropped aside like some sack of vegetables.

  Agare was staring straight at her, the liquid void occupying his face as placid as ever. When he spoke, she felt her heart swell. "You appear to be recovering well."

  "A-A-Agare!"

  By the time she remembered Agare was not too fond of touching her, she was already on top of him. Had he whimpered? Must have been her imagination. She was just so thrilled!

  "I-I'm- I-I thought you had died! You were all- all- I mean-!"

  '

  She looked him over from side to side, noticing he was still in a terrible state, his armor ripped to pieces to reveal the surprisingly strong and unsurprisingly scar ridden body beneath, all his four limbs still gone this time, though at least the stumps had patched themselves. A protrusion emerging from the one on his right shoulder had almost the shape of fingers, but she couldn't be sure.

  "... Believe it or not, I've been worse," Agare said, edging further away. A little conscious, she pulled back, leaving herself kneeled by his side "It's... good to see you so energetic. I feared your internal wounds would be crippling."

  "I-it's weird, yeah!" she said. "My Will seems to be working pretty smoothly. Now that I think about it, maybe better than ever?"

  As a demonstration, though she knew he wouldn't be able to see it, she expanded in all directions, her thousand limbs reacting with a promptness and speed she had never managed before.

  She yipped, convulsing with disgust. It was a sudden sensation, bitter and soft and burning, like she had shoved her hands into wet mud and found a pile of hot needles at the bottom. Stung, she retracted into herself, waiting the several seconds it took for the hurt to fade. She searched for the culprit, with her eyes only, but found them both still alone.

  The question was at the tip of her tongue, but she realized the truth. Carefully, she rested her forehead against the nearest wall, and focused. The warmth was pleasant, if faint, but beyond it, almost imperceptible, she could feel a steady pulse

  "W-we're inside Mountain Guts?" she asked.

  Agare nodded. "Within one of the deeper Hard Tissue layers, or perhaps inside a repurposed root, though I don't see coagulant tissue anywhere."

  "I had never felt one with my Will before. I-is that why God was never able to find me? It's so unpleasant!"

  "These are complex creatures. They are no friends to beings such as the Haruspect, but will let matters lie so long as they aren't provoked," he said, turning to her with what she could only assume was some sort of pointed look. "Do not provoke it."

  It took some thinking to figure what Agare was going on about. But God's Will had been everywhere, and it was common knowledge in the Lesser that the area around the mines was taboo because everything born there grew toxic with time. With a sigh, she nodded, not like she wanted to go beyond satisfying her curiosity anyway.

  A companionable silence followed. She felt like she had a lot to say, but was unsure what, or where to start. Fidgeting the minutes away, Agare was eventually the one to break it.

  "Ever since the Haruspect took control, the Citrine went into long periods of hibernation where they hid beyond even Galehold's intelligence's ability to track," he murmured, just loud enough she could hear. "No wonder. This is the last place an Heir should be."

  "B-because of the poison?" she asked.

  He nodded. "That too, Although not the only one. Mountainous Intestines are the only place Demonium ore naturally grows. It should tell you enough."

  With a tired sigh, she nodded. No reason to acknowledge what he had just implied, but the burning black metal still had a snug place in her thoughts, no matter how long it had been.

  ... How long had it been? It felt as if every time she closed her eyes then opened again, days, weeks could have passed. Had Agare been here, hurt and unable to move, waiting all this time for her to wake up? She knew herself, she could idle away for a very long time without feeling any boredom, could he?

  How had he endured this situation she had put him in?

  She shrunk into herself in shame. She tried to remember what she had done, but everything after those three words had become a blur. Everything, until the giant, the monster, and all that horrible agony, wonderful anger that still inspired some longing in her chest. She couldn't control herself, and everyone paid for it again. She hadn't even apologized to Almalilly yet, for goodness sake!

  And why? Because she had been in danger?

  No. Because Holly Seneschal had.

  The Image. Her salvation. The person that could, should have been, who had to be, and now, piece by piece, was denied, as if the world hadn't done everything available to make her real. Wasn't that what everyone had wanted? Why punish her now that she understood, After all the trouble she had went through to-

  She shook her head. She was getting distracted again. She needed to set things right!

  "A-Agare, I- !" She cleaned her throat, trying to wipe the residual indignity out of her tone. If felt hard to speak through the knot in her throat "I'm..."

  "Yes?" he said, though didn't sound all there.

  "I'm-!"

  "Have I heard correctly?! My guest is awake and looking alive?!"

  The voice boomed like a tree crashing to ground, drawing a hiss out her, hairs waving and lashing. It echoed from all directions, an assault to the ears the entire world should have heard.

  Yet, when Menoux strode into the hallway, his head just narrowly scrapping the ceiling, his steps were like the fall of feathers. Already in the nude, stick flopping all around, the moment he got in front of her cell, his golden eyes shone, his mouth gaping into a mockery of toothy delight. Following him were a gaggled of scantily dressed, wickledly armed men-

  ... and women?

  The sight shouldn't have been as shocking to her, she had met Blades before, and Marquise too, but she still caught herself trying to explain those very gorgeous, very exposed, curvaceous yet muscular people as some sort of trick of the mind.

  Giving her fallen comrade wordless apologies, she glared at her enemies, who one and all seemed to only grow more amused. In fact, some of them, men and women both, only seemed to prine. They were all beautiful, she had to admit, just like their master, all large and confident, skins varying from deathly pallor to ashen brown, and all human.

  "Surprised, godling from the Bear?" Menoux said, and tapped the woman to his side from behind, getting a strange coo in response. He pushed her forward as she threw a sly grin his way. "You are not in the Lands of Men And Lions anymore, and most don't like to orbit around their ways of life."

  Having it stated this plainly could have been a bigger wake up call then seeing it with her own eyes, but something else caught her attention. "G-godling from the Bear... me?"

  "Well, who else it could be?!" He laughed. "Certainly not me! And certainly not that thing over there either."

  Agare thankfully remained silent at the slight, watching as the heavy, lumbering giant dropped himself on his rear as if no heavier than a stick, his gaggle of goons loosely spreading around as he crossed his legs. Resting his hands over his lap, he leaned forward, his eyes hungrily burrowing through hers.

  "Beautiful, aren't they?" Menoux said, openly admiring the same woman, who puffed her very bare chest outwards in pride, probably unaware how the scandalous display made her heart thump like it had gone mad. "Divine work, it all. Just one of the many blessings taught by the Lord in Iron, the perfection of the flesh and-"

  "Heir of Citrine!" Agare's intrusion was so sudden she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Haruspect Menoux, the Butcher of Heron Road, have you captured us for the pleasure of wasting our times, or do you have an objective?"

  With the death of Menoux smile, came a sigh so theatrical it left her flabbergasted. "Skin. Good evening, dear Madhound, I'm happy to see you have recovered some of your faculties. Now, if you could remain silent, thing will go much better for us both."

  "The Citrine is not known for keeping its hostages-"

  "Citrine!" Menoux scoffed. "You don't even know our names and still pretend to know our ways? Oh, please! Bark to someone else! Now, godling, let us-"

  "N-no!" She interjected, "I-I'm with Agare! I want to know why you brought us here, a-and what's a godling?! I never heard that one before!"

  "Of course you don't, godling!" his smile returned with a small chuckle. "That was only expected, but don't worry your pretty little head about it, that's why I'm here today, to teach you all the things that wouldn't want you learning!"

  "I don't care about things like that," she said. "A-all I want is to leave!"

  "Please, be reasonable! What grounds do you have to demand anything?" Menoux said, shaking his head. "Let us have a conversation at least, so I can see the extent of the damage that thing has done to you."

  "Holly, be careful with him." Agare whispered, his body dragging closer to her. "That is how the Citrine has been operating for the last century. They infiltrate nations like parasites and poison the mind of outcasts against-"

  "Oh, spare me!" Menoux spat, and that sliver of anger in his tone was all it took for that animal part of her brain want to bury itself into a deep, dark hole. "Talking about parasites and mind poisons, and meanwhile she walks hand in hand with those whose very reason to exist is the complete eradication of her kind, and made to insist to the ends of the world she is human meanwhile!"

  "N-nobody made me-"

  Menoux hand rose with a placating gesture. "But I get it. My methods might have been a little severe, yet we are safe now, aren't we? The Lens can flip every rock in Awin and never find us, so I don't think it would be any problem if you were to, say, walk away a little earlier than intended."

  She paused, not really comprehending what he had said. "W-wait. You mean we can just leave."

  He nodded. "It would pain me to cut your education this short, but sure. I will even give you some of our supplies for the trip. And none of whichever crumbs they have been feeding you, to keep you this skinny and weak! Something truly nutritious for a being of our caliber, and you better believe you'll see the difference rather immediately."

  She didn't answer. She knew the catch was coming before his smile widened, and knew his request before he spoke the first word.

  "All you have to do is simple: Kill that Madhound you called comrade and prevent him from inflicting further damage onto this world. Simple, am I right? But if you can't... Well, get yourself cozy!" He laughed. "We are going to have one busy week ahead of us!"