The merry scents faded as Aurelithae hurled across the Folds of Time and Space, arrived onto the alabaster streets of Luth-Astaril. Her steps echoed betwixt the two buildings, muffled by the ongoing fray between legionaries and the plebeian of the Western Middle District. The streets lit up in flames as fireballs flung betwixt the opposing forces, hoar spread on the edges of the structures, puddles of melted ice eddied on the lanes disturbed by the trampling feet and the fall of corpses. Shadows thickened, their tendrils reached and dragged unsuspecting custodians and auxiliaries into themselves, thunder stroke down from the cloudless skies, tumbling dragons, gryphons and other tamed beasts of the skies onto the roofs, onto the loosening formations clashing in the wide streets.

  The shrieks of burning legionaries, plebeian substituted the tender silence of the past nights, along with the clashing of blades. Arrows hissed in the air, penetrated betwixt the plates of legionaries, or into the feeble cloths of middling garments and plates. And blood seeped into the shadowy alley when Aurelithae manifested betwixt two high walls, just as one of the automata decapitated an orkh still bearing the scarred remains of the Atoning’s enslaving marks. She quivered a little as the roar of a four-winged dragon emanating a golden mist flew past, from its roar a wind lifted up the New Dawn’s archers into the air, then slammed them into the marble pavement, leaving them as barely recognizable bloody pulps.

  Aurelithae waited not to witness the conclusion of this battle, as the First Legion aided by the Talos legionaries pushed through once the archers and magusos ceased showering them in spells and arrows. By the time one legionary stopped to peek inside the alley, she was gone back to the Radiant Keep, leaving the search for the day after.

  Her lips curled from the arkhaine euphoria and the tickling sensation she was quite familiar with after climbing the sides of the Draemons Mountain with Isocrates, and the sides of their spire in the Radiant Keep with Albrion. A momentary feeling which lingered even as she appeared in another alley the next day, under the slanting indigo terracotta roof of the Nestling Gryphon, protruding from its first floor, held by thick wooden pillars, polished and sculpted into perfect angularity. Here, the silence a peaceful silence reigned, lit windows lined only a few buildings, the rest were taken by the darkness of the midnight.

  Only a few souls remained on the benches outside, one dreaming upon the table, the rest whirling whilst seated, spilling their drinks upon the rugged table. Within the establishment, the hardwood floor creaked with a subtle, liquid cadence as Aurelithae walked in, peered across the few souls paying little to no attention to the newcomer in the hour of midnight. Warm light spread across the tiered black-brown ceiling trimmed in red-brown accents, the polished surface strengthening the glow of the old chandelier.

  As Aurelithae made her way towards the avian maiden behind the counter cleaning the kegs and jugs, the stiff and purplish black leather hugging her legs and torso creaked under the voluminous dull cloak draping down her form in layered waves, brushing against her ankles. “What can I serve you with, my lady?” The soft, white feathers and their contrasting dark trims rustled as she looked up at Aurelithae, her thin lips covered in the same bone structure as her ancestor’s beaks curled into an affable, maternal smile.

  “Your sweetest wine, please.” From her fingers, Aurelithae placed a silver coin chased golden near it perimeter, within a hidden embossment of regal tendrils spiraled towards the center bearing the golden sun of old, withered realms, besides the three gold coins bearing the sculpted visage of Terrianis and an uncle she never met. “I am looking for the white dragon escaping the summer isles of the east.” She added in a whisper.

  The stretched, avian eyes noticed the peculiar coin immediately, and sighed whilst leaning down for the bottle. “No more the white dragon soars the skies above the east since the 33rd of Almdiorh, he parted towards the west to enjoy the golden glow of our isles.”

  “I see. Has he settled amongst the Son of the Golden Child or amongst in the Nest of the Black Cat?” Aurelithae asked.

  “I am afraid, it is beyond our knowledge.” Aurelithae thanked her for the answer and the drink, adding in a bit extra before she gulped her drink in one as taught by Albrion not long after the heist of the scroll, then disappeared. Whilst heading out, she pondered what role the scroll may have served or played if it played at all. With a shrug, Aurelithae returned to the alley and from there to the Radiant Keep, pondering where to next the day after. For a moment before sleep, she ruminated to call upon Grimslaukh, but as she reached out Dumath manifested and shook her head.

  For the next few months, Aurelithae hopped all across the city, hearing the same code words left behind by the owners of the Dreaming Dragon Inn where she stumbled into an unfurling battle, aiding the New Dawn when she recognized a few faces. Nearly they all perished at the push of the legionaries, but triumphed when the earth swallowed their enemies up to their thighs. The half-aevhe leading their group vomited out flames, intense as a dragon’s which spread across the streets, enveloped the whole two contuberaniums. Aurelithae watched with a mirthful smile as their gilded panoply melted upon their charred skin, seared and blackened flesh beneath.

  At the Sleeping Nereid Inn, she refrained from entering when the window shattered loudly, followed by a cloaked figure rolling thrice upon the alabaster pavement. Aurelithae nearly leapt into action, but ceased at once, spotting Calaviril exiting from the establishment with two others armored lightly like her. Aurelithae retreated to the shadows and watched as the owners and a few of their patrons were dragged outside, quickly ropes cinched their wrists and abdomens whilst a few Custodians and legionaries arrived to take them away.

  Before Calaviril could sense her, Aurelithae vanished, appearing before a dilapidated house. Its flat, rectangular roof partially obliterated, the rims blackened by conjured flames. The particles of primordial flames still lingered in the air, beckoning Aurelithae in hushed whispers to call upon their chaotic, destructive aid. But she ignored and entered, trying to search for other residual particles that may point her in the right direction before darkness began its dispersing phase as dawn approached.

  After a quick search, Aurelithae sensed a vague thread slithering across the city, into a familiar place. Knowing it, she felt foolish for not thinking of it first, then vanished, kicking up dust and ash as her form distorted itself and the surroundings, and once more pleasant fragrances, aromas welcomed her flaring nostrils as she appeared in the cellar of the Laneas Household on the Eastern Middle District. The door creaked and the dwarf servant spotted her immediately in the darkness. Nearly she screamed thinking it was an assassin coming for her master, but Aurelithae shushed her quickly whilst pulling down her voluminous cloak veiling her whole, snow-white countenance. The dwarf gazed long, besotted by her beauty.

  “Fetch me Middias. Tell him the little Princeipstir wants his presence and advice.” The dwarf nodded, finding it impossible to form words. Then left while glancing back a few times.

  Aurelithae waited patiently as the minutes passed, she fetched a chair for herself, feeling a mild aching in her legs from standing and being hurled continuously across the city. “It has been a long time, your Highness.” Then at last, the door opened and the familiar, lean visage of Middias appeared, ornated with a well-groomed, voluminous beard. A thin, golden gown flown effortlessly across his slender frame, whilst a second robe in the purple shade of certain wines draped over his shoulders, hugged the first silk piece.

  “I apologize for meeting like this and after so long an absence. Though it is great to see you again Middias!” Aurelithae rose and gracefully bowed. Warm light entered the cellar, revealing its almost empty space. Besides the chair Aurelithae fetched for herself to rest a little, there were one or two wine racks lining the polished, wood veneered walls below the small windows deepened into embrasures, high on the western and eastern walls.

  “It is humbling to hear that. Though may I ask why your Highness appeared in my cellar?” Middias asked in a suave tone, a humorous smile forced upon his face. “Though I may have an inkling feeling for the reason.”

  “I am in search of Mirayroth. Wish to speak with him, to know what he plans next.” Aurelithae said, her eyes shifting into pleading.

  “Truth be told, I am not quite sure where he and Proclus went presently, but they did stay here just two days before.” Middias relapsed into silence for a moment. He was clearly thinking of something, Aurelithae could tell. “After that, they have departed to Proclus’s mansion, to retrieve some documents regarding shipments for our brave warriors of the New Dawn.”

  “I see.” Aurelithae murmured. “Thank you Middias. May you stay safe.” She waited not for his answer, vanished once more.

  Though she wished to head there immediately, Aurelithae returned to her room, freed herself quick from her garments, sprayed herself in sweet rosy fragrance and changed into the dress still sprawling unblemished on her bed. She pulled the last lace just as the handmaidens came to announce dinner.

  The next day, she teleported out from her room when the Illius’s lost its tributary blue and purple hues, then its rich and warm golden, and become the brilliant silver Lunarius, whilst the infinite firmament was flooded with the deepest of blacks. Though the tributary blue evanesced, the purples remained. A hue favored by both Septurrion and the High Beings of Night. Some accounts remain that the Fateweaver courted the Solemn Shepherd, an attempt which swayed her to their side during the War of the Siblings. Though Aurelithae remained unconvinced if her turn came from love, and not just the final realization of her own father’s madness.

  To her luck, she manifested in the front yard, surrounded by three in gilded panoply. Not of the First Legion’s, but the brave company sworn to Drussaev. Their distinct, far-southern Avarisian panoplies consisting a dry leather corselet reinforced with gilded plates at the edges, inlaid at the middle into a disk meant to represent the Illius whom the folks worshipped as an unendorsed ninth Deossos. A triangular gorget rested about their necks, welted momentarily onto the pauldrons, whilst their arms were protected only by two long bracelets set with richly hued, sorcery imbued gems.

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  From the corselet, a lightweight skirt dangled as the smoky air kept into them, a contrasting beige white against the darker shade of the dry leather piece, beneath its greaves ended in metallic sandals cinching their feet with bundles of chromatic looping concave about their Illius-kissed skin. Their helmets appeared angular, closed off by the mask of animalistic design. One closest to her wore a Hound-Faced Helmet, on the right an Ibis, and on the left a Serpent.

  Aurelithae sighed, as a breeze sharp as blade decapitated all three at once near the edge of the burning maze. A few vines relentlessly gnawed by the flames reached out, their tips blossomed into hideous maws as they tried to devour the corpses, but simply tumbled onto the coat of plates, leaving only a black, zigzagging mark across the bust and abdomen areas. “Seems your brother’s men got here first.

  Closing her eyes, Aurelithae sensed two more within, their anima wave-lengths fainter than the three she killed. Walls shattered as the two Talos Legionaries broke through them, unlike the three and the few other corpses prone across the verandah and the courtyard, the Talos legionaries appeared unharmed, only a few spots of blood indicated their partition in the small battle between them and Proclus’s hideous plant. She still reeled thinking about the creature bestowed with the form of a plant.

  Aurelithae took a few steps backwards, down the small stairs, inhaled the rancid earth tarnished by the smoke and rotten, burning flesh. With her Mind’s Eye opened, she peered across their metallic forms sculpted with gilded panoplies chased black at the edges, finding the orbs within their centers pulsating, holding their egoless souls. She heard their knees scrape as the metal shifted like skin. Both raised their weapons, prepared to lunge at her. Heavy metallic thuds echoed along the creaking of flora devoured by the flames.

  Above her palm, Aurelithae felt the orbs pulsating cold waves upon her soft flesh white as snow. Dark tendrils slithered out from her hand, wrapped about both orbs, and as she climbed the stairs fearless of the two nearing golems, their forms folded roughly into themselves, until their rumpled together remains rolled beyond Aurelithae.

  “Seems the Empire still needs to improve upon their own mindless soldiers.You should leave. No doubt neither is here.

  “I know. But Middias sent me here for a reason. I make sure the mansion is properly destroyed at least.” Aurelithae enchanted the white theatre mask Albrion gifted to her on her 57th day of birth. A rippling translucent bubble domed over the porcelain white nose’s slit holes, and the lips, blanketed the violet veil dangling before her neck, shutting out the choking smoke forming thick walls within the burning mansion, leaked outside its door swallowing her form as she stepped through the threshold. Voracious amber and blue flames spread from wood wainscotting, railings, steps and pillars, to the polished stone, devouring all the same.

  Aurelithae followed the trail of amber blaze further into the mansion. At first glance, Aurelithae believed the flames were conjured by the company, manifested against the hideous plant creature, but upon further examination, they both felt the taeberosian qualities woven into the constitution of the flames.

  Whilst heading deeper, she conjured ethereal lens over her eyes when the smoke thickened. Though at first, she aimed to find a way to the second floor, she instead opted towards the library which door and walls the flames refrained from spreading onto.

  Nearing it, her hands moved over her mask, slowly pulled it down and sniffed in the air cleansed and fresh as a vernal breeze brushing against her face. Beyond the door she sensed two souls, one amongst the two felt familiar. Hesitation quivered her grip about the knob, but she pulled through, determined to kill whoever stood on the other side, whoever stopped the infernal flames from consuming the library of Proclus. They had to die, she was now utterly sure in her conviction, Middias sent her here to make sure no secret leaves Proclus’s crumbling mansion. For a moment, even suspected, Grimslaukh sent her.

  “Princeipstir?” Hearing the moan of the door, the intense crackling of the flames, Nephyiti turned around, her lapis lazuli eyes focused onto Aurelithae who cussed in her mind. Fate seemed to fancy her. She entered with a bit of hesitation, reaching for her dagger whilst Nephyti likewise strolled confounded, but unassuming still, towards her.

  She wore a similar panoply to the three she had slain outside, except beneath a thin velvety gown the same shade as her otherworldly eyes flown restricted by the pieces. Its crisp, voluminous collar slipped past the gorget, stood in sharp arches on either side of her neck with their gilded trims standing on the pauldrons, the points resting just above her chest line. A furtive feeling stopped Nephyti in her tracks, as Fate seemed to fancy her too. Her gaze trailed off Aurelithae, towards Dumath who stood grinning, feeling the gaze of another for the first time in a decade almost.

  “Forgive me!” She whispered. An acute sensation alerted Aurelithae, as liquid tendrils arose from the hardwood floor itself, reaching for her ankles and wrists to restrain her. She reacted quick, by instinct. Dark golden flames, tinted violet near their edges vaporized the liquid tendrils, the rising mist shaped into daggers and flew towards Nephyti. They dispersed before reaching her though, clashed against her ward.

  “You were right. He does want us here.

  From the left, books flew off from the shelves, bombarding Aurelithae. She held her left hand towards them, the golden flames she summoned forth not in a long time manifested in a concave shield, burning them into ash. Aurelithae slammed her right foot onto the floor, shifting its solid state into a semifluid one, sending wild waves towards Nephyti, stealing out her balance. She fell onto her bottom, yelped a little before she rolled out immediately, as space itself condensed into a heavy block, crushing into the floor.

  Nephyti looked troubled, Aurelithae seen the conflict upon her enchanting visage, deep lines drawn on the dark brown skin–almost black. And though she could have relied on this recognition, she herself struggled, not sure on the reason. Whether because she feared inflicting even more pain upon her own brother, or simply not knowing where the second opponent lay hidden. Dumath herself seemed to shut herself into her soul, passed on bits of her power, her essence, but not the knowledge Aurelithae knew she possessed, but withheld.

  From their few meetings, Aurelithae was well aware Nephyti counted amongst the greatest of Vhouromancers, heard the tale how she warded Drussaev and their comrades’ minds from the dark whispers of the Umbral Vaults; how she proved a headache to Ephraimur, her rival numerous times and in the end, lead to Drussaev splitting his head open like watermelon. Still, from her looks, Aurelithae deduced Nephyti struggled on the belief, Aurelithae was possessed. A fact wrong as far as she knew.

  If this knowledge would have been in her possession, her chances would have been greater skipping out from under the looming shadow of her own doom. A doom facilitated by greater powers. Without them, she continued her efforts to restrain Aurelithae, encrusting the hardwood floor in slippery ice, breaking the balance of Aurelithae charging at her. Heat she sheathed herself in, melted the arkhaine ice, evaporated the water almost instantly, providing her a little cloaking as she positioned her dagger, aiming at Nephyti’s heart. Seemingly, her focus fell on Nephyti. In truth she remained mindful of their surroundings, expecting the second to reveal themselves.

  Though instead of thrusted into flesh, the Nephyti before herself crumbled into ethereal dust of a scintillating azure and light purples, almost mauve. Dumath’s chuckle frustrated her a little, though calmed as her respite was that the two shared the same searing sensation. Quickly, she leapt away sensing the incoming volley of small icicles. Each thudded on her right, deep into the floor before they melted into pudges.

  Or at least she thought at first glance. From the water, she noticed flittering speckles rising towards the ceiling, then they broke into iridescent mist, accompanied by a tantalizing smell.

  Almost like cherries mixed with something else. Familiar yet Aurelithae could not put her finger on what exactly it was. All she knew, all her sixth sense alerted her to its layered nature. A bit of aphrodisiac, a lot more sedative as her lids trembled for a second, nearly curtaining wholly over her eyes. Weight wrapped and pulled her arms and legs into creeping, piercing numbness. She ambled backwards, using the wall to support her, to keep her standing.

  “Don’t play around.

  With her trap laid, Aurelithae awaited. Already a little drunk on hearing soft steps, sensing the release of the spell veiling her perception, she struggled keeping her lips from curling. “Do not blame me for your own shortcomings.

  “Forgive me, but it is for your sake lady Aurelithae!” Nephyti approached, averting her gaze from Aurelithae’s prismatic pupils.

  In that short moment, Aurelithae reached and pulled the dagger close, tautened her grip around its handle again, vanished and appeared right before Nephyti. She let out a soft, high-pitched sound as the cold, tapering blade broke through the fine cloths flowing unblemished, through her hydrous dark flesh. Blood painted red the corners of her lustrous, trembling lips. Lips parted open only for a little, as her life parted with her last breath.

  Aurelithae kept looking, waited with the bloodied dagger still in Nephyti she held herself. There she stood, sensing not another soul anymore, as the flames latched onto the doorframe. At once, she felt bile broke up from her stomach, felt the same chilling grip she felt with her first kill decades ago, as she noticed the teary eyes, looked at Nephyti’s slightly swollen stomach. In solemn silence, she rolled down her lids, and rose back up, feeling her hand quiver uncontrollably.

  Some solace, she found in the flames spreading onto the shelves, onto the spines of the books, the pages, continue their march towards them. “Do not falter now. You are already aware of the cost of your freedom, of the knowledge He offered.

  “I know that.” All she could utter, feeling hatred towards Grimslaukh, Middias who led them here. At once, hatred turned into a fear she could not put into words. It went beyond the fear when one soils them, as a few of her targets did. No, she wanted to lobotomize herself utterly, seeing haven in mindlessness; tear or eviscerate her own eyes knowing darkness would shield her from what lurked beyond it. Then it all vanished, and she knew, it came from Dumath, as a warning lesson and a temptation of where Grimslaukh’s promises could lead.

  “This is a small price, compared to what world he shall usher once you complete your role, once I do complete my role.Do not ever forget this.

  Then they vanished.