With Vanus returned, King Dynar finally set his plan in motion. He sent a call for all Fighters and Mages to return to the Hollow City, along with the allies they'd gathered who would assist in the assault on Molag Bal. Over the next few days, members of the Tamriel force and the odd Coldharbour denizen trickled through the City's gates, and when most of their people had returned, Dynar called for a briefing within the Chapel of Light.

Aneril and Vareysa received an invitation, of course, and they brought Shur'azan along to sit between their chairs at the table. Present as well were ranking members of the Fighters and Mages Guild, and leaders of the Bosmer and Argonian clans Aneril had aided in her trek through Coldharbour. Many of them offered nods in Aneril's direction, and she returned the gestures politely before turning her gaze to the head of the table where Dynar stood, engaged in quiet conversation with Galerion.

After the doors were shut behind the last person, Dynar turned to his people and started the brief – simple, and focused on the first phase of the assault. North of the Hollow City was a chasm, at the end of which was the gatehouse where Molag Grunda resided. To reach this gatehouse and set up their frontline, they needed to cross the chasm, protected by magical fixtures which their mages would disarm to clear the path for the main force.

This was only the first phase of their assault, Dynar emphasised, and seemed satisfied that none wavered. He dismissed them to begin preparations, but bade Aneril and Vareysa stay. King Dynar strode to where they sat, clasping both hands behind his back. Aneril felt dwarfed by his impressive Ayleid height, so she rose from her chair to stand as well.

"It is settled. We shall cross the chasm and make our way to the planar vortex at the heart of Molag Bal's realm. Now that you know the plan, I have a special request to make of you."

"Of course," Aneril replied, unconsciously mimicking his stance.

"This mission needs a leader. I want you to lead the assault across the chasm. We have asked so much of you, and you have already accomplished the impossible, but you are one of a very small few that I would trust with this task."

"I understand," Aneril said evenly, no stranger to the pressure laid upon her shoulders. "I shall do my best."

"I have no doubt you will do more." Dynar broke into a warm, close-lipped smile which crinkled the corners of his eyes, and for a moment, Aneril couldn't help but believe.


Aneril sat on the doorstep of their quarters, long legs stretched out on the short set of stairs leading down from the door. She was dressed down for the night in shirt and pants, and Vareysa was seated beside her, similarly attired and sipping on wine. Aneril, on the other hand, was focused on the tiger sitting between her legs, his paws folded neatly on the steps as he looked back at Aneril.

"Listen, Shuri," Aneril said, taking his head in her hands. "I need to tell you something important."

Shur'azan snorted, and blinked once.

"Vareysa and I are going to leave this city tomorrow. We're going to fight a very important battle. Understand?" Aneril shook his head gently. "It's going to be very dangerous. That's why we have to leave you behind in the city."

Shur'azan snorted again, then growled a note of displeasure – he understood what Aneril had said or, at the very least, that they were going to leave him alone again.

"We'll need you to stay back here, and protect the city and everyone in it, okay? Don't go out of the gates. Stay with the people inside." Aneril sighed at Shur'azan's chuff, and the tip of his tongue which flicked out at her. "And listen, if Vareysa or I don't come back...you make your own way, alright? Follow the others out of this place if they manage to find a way out."

"Very optimistic, Anni."

"Just being realistic." Anni scratched at Shur'azan's scruff. "I love you, Shuri. You know that, right? I still don't exactly know why I picked you up back then, but I'm glad I did. You're the goodest boy I've ever known."

"Now you're going to make me cry."

"Just give me this, Rey," Anni said, laughter dotting her breath. She dipped down, rubbing her forehead against Shur'azan's. A paw rested on her cheek, and Aneril smiled, pulling back to allow Vareysa the same farewell. Shur'azan growled when Vareysa squeezed him in her arms.

"Anni's said everything, so…yeah. There's that." Vareysa smooshed his face between her palms. "When we're done with this place, we're gonna find all those fat, juicy steaks for you to eat, okay?"

Shur'azan's ears shot up – obviously he'd understood that.

"That's coming out of your purse," Aneril said drily.

"Half of it," Vareysa replied. "He's your boy too."

"It's your idea." Aneril scrunched up her nose when Vareysa pinched it, then caught her partner by the chin, smiling as she pressed a kiss to Vareysa's lips. "But I love you. You and all your stupid ideas."

"And I love you," Vareysa crooned. "You and your exasperating, self-sacrificial heroics. Just...promise to tone it down when we get out there, yeah? Just this time…"

I can't promise that, was the first thing that sprang to mind. But the sincere weight behind Vareysa's gaze made her think twice.

"I will."


The next day, most of the invasion force gathered at the city's northern gates, grim determination written in the set of their shoulders and jaw. At Dynar's orders, Aneril and Vareysa set out on a preliminary sortie ahead of the main force, to clear the way across the chasm. Aneril snuck one last glance over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Shur'azan sitting under a cherry blossom tree by the pond, before turning her focus forward.

They were currently on the lower tier of the path leading across the chasm, and had to wrest control of a portal platform on the far end, which would grant them access to the upper tiers. This portal remained under dremora control via the use of focus stones – four of them spread across the face of the lower tier. Aneril split the small force with her into fours – one to destroy each focus stone and its complement of dremora guards.

Cadwell's excited whoop brought a smile to her face and she ran with her squad, plunging headlong into a group of Dremora with blades and spells flashing. The violent flurry was over in a blink of the eye; Aneril soon stood over her dead foe with black ichor dripping from her glass blade, while the mages in her group destroyed the focus stone on its pedestal, with a combined destructive spell.

Task completed, Aneril led her group across the obsidian terrain to gather at the portal platform, meeting Cadwell's group which had reached it first. When the rest had caught up, they left a handful of fighters behind to guard the platform, and sent one messenger back to the city with the good news. Aneril and Vareysa then took the portal with the rest, materialising on the upper tier.

There, they found two Daedric portals swirling a cold, stark blue, threatening to hinder the Tamriel force with reinforcements. Aneril split her team in two, giving Cadwell some backup as he ran willy-nilly into the first wave of Daedra appearing to the west, while she held ground on the east, beating back Daedra just as they set foot on the ground. Clannfear, armoured Dremora, then orgrim were all greeted with a flashy and brief welcome, which ended with blades in their guts and heavy breaths among the group as mages collapsed the Daedric portal.

Cadwell's cheery voice reached their ears, the Shriven exclaiming that their path to the gatehouse was clear – it was time to pay the daughter of Molag Bal a visit. He led them up a long flight of stone steps towards a gatehouse, where Aneril halted the group while they formulated a plan of attack on Molag Grunda. While Cadwell suggested some compliments and tea to go with the thrashing, Aneril asked the mages to throw their most powerful binding spells to incapacitate Grunda first, leaving the rest free to pile on their foe.

Rolling her shoulders, Aneril passed a quick eye over the group, noting with satisfaction the gleam in their eyes. When Vareysa had sheathed her daggers and conjured a bow, Aneril nodded, and pushed the heavy gates open with Cadwell.

Despite Cadwell's purported familiarity with Molag Grunda, the giant Winged Twilight gave a terrifying shriek at their entrance. Before he could get a single word out, the Twilight was upon them, raining wings, talons, and strength-draining spells on them. Leaving Vareysa on the backlines with the mages, Aneril threw herself forward despite her leaden limbs, rolling under the Twilight's airborne figure.

Molag Grunda spun around immediately, sweeping Aneril off her feet before she'd even fully stood, coarse, leathery wings slamming at her armour hard enough to bruise. As she landed on the ground winded, the rest of the group set upon Grunda, and Aneril glimpsed arrows and spells knocking the Twilight back. Blue gleaming chains flew from the mages' hands and wrapped around Grunda's body, and she howled as she was dragged down to the floor of her lair.

A shout from the Fighter's commander, and several warriors pounced on Molag Grunda, sinking their blades into her without hesitation. Barely a second had passed when Cadwell brought his blade across her throat, mercifully ending her agonised shrieks, leaving but a brief echo within the gatehouse's walls.

Aneril had picked herself up when Vareysa came over to her, and gave her partner a sheepish smile.

"That was some great tactic, getting knocked onto my ass," Aneril muttered, scratching her nape with a slight flush on her cheeks.

"At least you aren't hurt," Vareysa laughed, and tugged at her arm. "Come on, there'll be plenty more chances for you to show off."


King Dynar and Vanus arrived at the gatehouse not long after, striding ahead of the main force which was securing the passage through the chasm, and hauling supplies to set up a frontline. While Dynar remained to coordinate his people, Vanus strolled farther north, through an intimidating black gate to scout what he described helpfully, 'something feels wrong'.

Aneril lingered at the gatehouse to stand watch while the rest set up makeshift fortifications, but her doubts about Vanus grew the more she thought about his time in the Black Forge. Eventually, she decided to err on the side of caution, and gathered Vareysa to scout on ahead, with King Dynar's blessing.

They strode past the gate, and with Vareysa's sharp eyes picking out Vanus' faint tracks in dark soil, followed the trail to its owner, who stood before the expansive grounds of a graveyard. Aneril frowned at the hunched figures which loped and stalked within, and when they joined Vanus at its perimeter, she found a similar expression on the Great Mage's face.

"As soon as you're ready, we have another mission that could use your unique approach," Vanus said, glancing at Aneril.

"What do you need?"

Vanus nodded at the figures within the orchard. "Vampires. The region beyond is crawling with them! Worse, anyone we send in there will be turned into one of the foul monsters." He pointed at a jagged edifice of rock and obsidian in the centre of the orchard. "Do you see that structure? I believe that's one of Molag Bal's infamous Harvest Hearts. I need you to collect blood from the vampires. It's an integral component in the pacification ritual I will perform. Use the blood to mark their lairs – it will ensure my ritual targets the correct creatures. I'll meet you near the Heart when you're finished."

"Alright. See you, then." Aneril shrugged, then drew her blade. Easier to follow Vanus' instructions than listen to his rationale behind it.

They skirted the edges of the orchard, taking down isolated packs of feral vampires easily between them. From each, they took a generous portion of blood, which they collected in the empty vials on their belts, from potions they'd drunk and were waiting to refill. Though they'd probably have to throw these tainted vials away, Aneril thought drily as Vareysa cloaked them in an invisibility spell, allowing them safe passage past numerous vampires.

After splashing black-streaked blood on the first lair – a crypt with unlocked gates – they were taken aback by the sudden appearance of a pale, red-eyed vampire matron. A Nord, Aneril guessed from her accent.

"Such a cruel and distasteful chore the Elf has tasked you with," she spat, then disappeared in a red mist.

Aneril shared a glance with Vareysa, but they shrugged the encounter off, searching for more crypts. And at each crypt, the matron appeared like the first time, though her outbursts seemed more dismayed with each lair they marked with blood.

"Do not do this, I implore you! My children are not evil!"

"You don't know what you're doing! Molag Bal is the enemy here, not my children!"

"Why are you subjecting my people to this danger?"

"Why don't you stop and tal–?" Aneril started to speak at the fourth and last lair, but the matron's face had been stricken with anger, and she disappeared once more without giving Aneril a backward glance. Aneril let out a sharp breath, gesturing at Vareysa. "Let's go. Vanus may be in danger."

When they returned to the Harvest Heart, Aneril's instincts were proven right, though not quite in the manner she'd expected. The vampire matron had indeed sought Vanus out, but instead of battle, the two were engaged in a shouting match.

"Back, foul temptress! I'll hear no more of your lies!"

"Such a stubborn Elf! Perhaps your companions will be more willing to listen to reason."

Aneril raised her blade instinctively when the matron turned to her, but she lowered it as the woman drew close, a pleading quality in her eyes. "I hope that you will prove more reasonable than your companion. The ritual the Elf plans to perform will drive my children mad. But there is a better solution, if you're willing to listen to reason. Molag Bal is the real enemy here. Let me help you free my children from the Dark Lord's thrall."

Aneril frowned, grip on her sword still firm. "And that will help us how?"

"I can perform my own ritual. It will destroy the Harvest Heart and set my children free. Help me accomplish this and my children will be in your debt. They will provide you with safe passage through the Orchard and aid you against Molag Bal."

A thoughtful silence, then Aneril said, "I thought Molag Bal was the patron of all vampires."

"Not all vampires agreed to...this," the matron gestured at the graveyard. "I, for one, do not wish to stay in servitude to him any longer. Free my children, and I shall direct their fangs at Molag Bal."

"You can't seriously be considering her proposal, can you?" Vanus burst out in exasperation. "She's a confounded vampire, for Magnus's sake! She's an elder vampire! Setting those monsters free will be like ringing the dinner bell in a Nord feast hall before the meal is ready! Her so-called children see us as food and nothing more. The only logical solution is to perform my ritual."

"Please," the matron broke in, urgency and desperation burning in her gaze. "I beg you – show us some compassion that others would not. Help us break free of this bondage."

Aneril wavered, and glanced at Vareysa for help – getting a shrug in response. Hiding a roll of the eyes, Aneril took a deep breath, then turned back to the matron. "Very well. Let's free the vampires from the Harvest Heart."

Words she'd never thought she'd say, and even felt wrong as they left her mouth. But Aneril stood firm as Vanus cried his vexation to the dark sky of Coldharbour, before regaining his composure and offering Aneril his help...albeit unwillingly.

Setting up a defensive line around the vampire matron as she worked on the Harvest Heart, the three elves worked blades and magic as they were set upon by vampires, bound by blood to protect the Heart at all costs. With the help of Vanus' impressive spellwork, the defensive line was never broken, and soon the ground shook as the Harvest Heart emitted a shockwave of energy in its dying throes.

When the vampires stopped abruptly in their charge and fell to the ground on their knees, Aneril chanced a glance backwards, and found the Heart's crystal broken. The matron panted with effort, standing amid broken shards on the ground, then met Aneril's eyes.

She smiled. "It is done. Thank you."


Though aiding vampires went against every strand of reason Aneril possessed – but not against her 'soft heart', as Vareysa pointed out – it did feel like a pragmatic decision in the end. The matron had disappeared after their assault on the Harvest Heart, but as promised, her vampires allowed them free passage through the graveyard, even if it felt creepy with red eyes tracking their movements warily.

This allowed the Tamriel force more freedom and security, able to range farther from the gatehouse without worrying about vampire attacks. King Dynar dispatched several scouting parties across these northern grounds they hadn't the chance to explore just yet, and since Aneril had the freedom to choose her own direction, she took Vareysa on a trek towards the northwest.

Vareysa's hand found its way into hers, and they walked with fingers entwined for some distance, until they stumbled across an expansive sandstone wall of Redguard make, built into the face of a cliff. By its length and height, there could be a vast mansion within, though the cliffs made the prospect doubtful.

"Hm. It's too pristine. Too quiet," Vareysa commented, pulling her hand away to caress the hilt of her dagger. "Something's...off."

"Yeah." Aneril scanned the sole gates in the length of the wall. "Should we…"

"Is that even a question?" Vareysa laughed, then pushed the gates open.

But her laughter died away when they stepped foot in...the sands of Alik'r? Aneril looked around at the desert stretching for miles around them, felt the refreshing warmth of the sun through the steel of her armour – a luxury that Coldharbour couldn't offer. They were...no. It only felt as if they were back in Tamriel.

"An illusion," Aneril said, looking at the mansion some distance ahead, and the people milling around in it. They could hear the laughter and chatter of the crowds. "A very elaborate one."

"Interesting," Vareysa murmured. "Come on, let's check it out."

"Be careful," Aneril said under her breath, as they neared the crowds.

"Aren't I always?"

Aneril snorted, but let Vareysa take the lead, setting a hand on her partner's waist so they wouldn't be parted in the throng of people. They were quite out of place indeed, both armed and armoured among those dressed for revelry, but it wasn't long before Aneril spotted someone else who was out of place as well.

She gripped Vareysa's waist, and her partner slowed as she stared across the mansion grounds. There stood a Breton with a balding head, drinking and chatting with three Redguard women. Aneril had seen his face before, back on Stirk. A quick riffle through her long Altmer memory, and she knew this man was the manservant of the Breton noble, Lady Laurent. Stafford? Steven? St–

"Isn't that Stibbons?" Vareysa said, jarring Aneril from her thoughts. "Lady Laurent's been turning the city upside down looking for that manservant of hers."

"Huh. How'd he get all the way here before us?" Aneril muttered.

They made their way towards Stibbons, who noticed their approach and brightened.

"Ah! Fancy meeting you here, hero of the Dominion! It's so fortunate that you've arrived – the sisters are about to throw a celebration in my honour! Doesn't that sound exciting?" Stibbons gestured at the Redguard women with him, and they bowed courteously.

"Um, Stibbons–" Aneril tried to speak, but Stibbons could hardly contain his excitement.

"I'll head on to the banquet table first. Why don't you introduce yourselves to Rayyaima, Nuzara, and Shayaifa, then join me there?"

Stibbons shot them a bright grin, then bowed his way out of the group with courtly grace. Aneril looked at the Redguard sisters – all of whom had their eyes on her – and was unnerved. Their gazes, though warm, had a...clinical quality behind the courteous mien.

"Please, hero," said one sister, her smile bright as the sun above them. "Set your burdens aside for a time. Eat some food, relax in the baths, unwind. Do join us later for celebrations in the manor house." She gestured towards the tents, then at the manor.

Aneril forced a smile to her face and bowed, hand over her heart. "We will. Thank you for your hospitality."

Taking Vareysa's hand, Aneril walked away from the sisters at a calm pace, though her heart hammered in her chest from the...sheer wrongness of it all.

"Did you see the way they looked at you?" Vareysa whispered. "It's like they wanted to eat you."

"Not in the good way, I assume," Aneril deadpanned.

"In a very bad way," Vareysa agreed.

Halfway to the tents, they were stopped by an Altmer woman, who waved them over insistently. They looked at each other, and at Vareysa's defeated shrug, they approached the Altmer.

"My name is Fatahala," the stranger introduced herself. "And you may not understand it just yet, but please – be careful. Your eyes will play tricks on you in this place, and you'll need to pay attention to save Stibbons."

Aneril cocked her head, eyeing the woman warily. "What do you mean?"

"You need to keep your wits about you. Stibbons has already accepted the illusion and slipped beyond reason. You need to save him from them – the sisters."

"And just who are you?" Vareysa asked. "Are you part of the illusion as well?"

"No." Fatahala shook her head sadly. "I was in Meridia's city the day she plunged it into Coldharbour. Like many, I was lost and alone in the wilderness. Then I found this manor. When the sisters discovered that I was a servant of Meridia, they decided to torment me for eternity. They find it amusing to watch me fret over their meals."

"Their 'meals'?" Aneril didn't like where this was leading.

"Stibbons – they have planned a fate for him which he doesn't deserve. Please. Just...be careful."

The Altmer refused to speak more then, casting wary glances around, and slinked off into the shadows of the manor. Without further guidance, they chose to approach the tents as the sisters bade, and found Stibbons indulging in a feast. He pushed a plate of meringue tart into their hands each, and when Aneril took a bite, its fruity sweetness turned sour on her tongue.

Her vision blackened, then returned, and the plate fell from her hands. She took a step back, eyes growing wide in mute horror at the skeletons standing around the table with them – the guests – and was shaken back to her senses when Vareysa grasped her firmly by the elbow.

"Anni?" Vareysa frowned up at her – the tart in her own hand untouched. "You alright?"

"Yes, you look rather pale," Stibbons observed, peering at her closely. "You must be exhausted. Why don't you take a break in the manor? There are many plush beds and cushions for you to rest with."

"I–, I'll do that." Aneril clamped Vareysa's hand in a vice grip, and her partner took the hint, leading her away from the crowds. When they were out of earshot, she whispered, "Rey, the guests – I ate that tart, and suddenly they were–, I don't know. I saw skeletons in their place."

"Glad I didn't eat it then," Vareysa said flatly. "You know, should we even go into the manor–?"

"You. You're different–"

"Oh, fuck!" Vareysa stopped in her tracks at Fatahala's sudden appearance, dagger already in her hand. "Don't jump on us like that!"

"Sorry," Fatahala said, eyes fixed on Aneril. "But you. You saw through the illusion, didn't you? Very briefly. You're different from Stibbons!"

"If you say so," Aneril replied. "Now, I really wouldn't mind if you'd share a plan of escape–"

"Oh no," Fatahala hissed, gripping Aneril's arm as she stared at the tents – where Stibbons was being led away from the banquet table by one Redguard sister. "They're taking him into the manor. They're about to–!" She looked back at Aneril, urgency burning in her eyes. "You have to save him, or he'll end up as their next meal!"

"Alright," Aneril said slowly, though it felt like her mind was still catching up. Thankfully, Vareysa kept pace, and led her by the arm towards the manor's doors.

Curiously enough, the manor's interior was empty, but it did make their search easier – and Stibbons' cry for help gave his position away. They followed his pleas for help, running up the stairs to the topmost floor, and into a room where Stibbons was locked in a cage...guarded by a Dark Seducer.

"Please!" Stibbons called to them. "Shayaifa–, this–, this thing! She and her sisters attacked me! Threw me in here–!"

If he had more to say, Aneril couldn't tell – the Dark Seducer flashed a wicked grin, and lunged at them with a polished blade. Unfortunately for her, she was but one against two fighters tried and tested in the wilds of Coldharbour, and was slain before she could bleed her prey.

On her body, they found a key to Stibbons' cage, and though he thanked them profusely for his timely rescue, he refused to leave the manor with them. Fatahala entered the cell room as he explained that the sisters had taken Lady Laurent's jewels from him, and clicked her tongue when he declared he wouldn't leave without them.

"Such a stubborn man," Fatahala groused, turning to Aneril and Vareysa. "You two can help. As I snuck in, I saw the two sisters heading into the west and east wing respectively. The jewels are probably with them. I'll take Stibbons to the exit in the meantime. Find the cave entrance outside, opposite the river south of the manor."

"Sure," Vareysa said, tossing Stibbons a sidelong glance. "Maybe those jewels will be worth some gold to us."

Aneril and Vareysa smirked as they left the room amid Stibbons' vehement protests, and agreed to split up in order to save some time. Vareysa took the east wing while Aneril took the west, following the hallway into a spacious, lavish bedroom, with a fire crackling in the hearth. She spotted a jewelry case on a nightstand by the bed, and breathed a sigh of relief when she found one large, emerald jewel – no need to waste time on a search.

She tucked the jewel into a belt pouch, turning back to the door – and was given pause when she found Vareysa walking in.

"That's fast. You found your jewel already?"

"No, I couldn't find it. Seems Stibbons will have to make do." Vareysa shrugged as she sauntered over to Aneril, whose eyes were drawn to her swaying hips. "You know, I was just thinking… Maybe there's no harm in staying here, just a little longer. I mean, since Stibbons' been here for this long…"

"Rey, we literally just saved Stibbons from a Seducer, of all things–"

Vareysa rested a finger on her lips. "Hush now, hero. You've done so much. Isn't it time you took a break? Sit back and enjoy all the luxuries you deserve?"

"Not if I end up like those skeletons I saw," Aneril replied flatly, throat growing dry when Vareysa rested a hand on Aneril's chestguard, sliding it slowly up to her neck, and cupped her jaw.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll keep you safe, my dear. I can make you feel comfortable. Give you everything you want."

Vareysa's voice dropped into that deep, smooth pitch which sent a tingle down Aneril's spine, eyes were entranced by her partner's. Vareysa pressed up to her chest, and Aneril's heart pounded against her ribs, as Vareysa drew closer, their lips brushing together–

A violent, distant thud beyond the door jarred Aneril from her haze. She looked back into Vareysa's eyes, catching a glimpse of silver in red irises, and shoved her away. Vareysa's predatory growl was all the warning she needed, and Aneril summoned a claw of dragonfire about her hand. Vareysa had just drawn her dagger when Aneril darted forward, swiping her claw across Vareysa's throat. Her partner – no, the thing choked on her own blood and fell to the floor, where she writhed in her dying throes before growing still, her Dunmer form giving way to that of a Dark Seducer.

Shit. If she's come after me, then…

The realisation struck Aneril square in the face, and she sprinted out of the bedroom, back to the main building where she found Vareysa similarly running back to her – and they both stopped in their tracks, drawing their weapons in a heartbeat.

Eyeing Aneril warily, Vareysa shot a question, "What was your job before you took up the blade?"

"Uh–" Aneril was thrown off-guard, and when Vareysa started to lunge forward, she hastened to answer, "Perfumer! I made perfumes!"

Vareysa jerked herself back mid-lunge, staring for a second before lowering her daggers. "Gods, answer me quicker next time, Anni."

"Seducer tried to get to you, huh?"

"Yeah." Vareysa's eyes raked down Aneril's body. "Yeah...she damn well tried."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Vareysa blinked, then jerked her head away. "Nothing."

Aneril squinted, noting the faint blush on Vareysa's cheeks. Nothing ever fazed her partner. "What did the Seducer do? Why do you look so embarrassed?"

Vareysa glanced back at Aneril, then turned away with a cough. "Let's just say...she moved parts of your body you wouldn't normally move."

Aneril frowned, looking down at herself.

"And used way too much tongue."

"W-what!" Aneril sputtered indignantly. "Don't tell me you–"

Vareysa broke into a cackle. "Gotcha," she sang.


With both jewels in hand, they escaped the manor, running through a mass of skeletons carpeting the ground – the sisters' previous victims, Aneril guessed. The sheer numbers of them made her stomach turn. It was a short distance to the cave entrance which Fatahala had mentioned, and there they found Stibbons waiting eagerly...beside a Dark Seducer.

"No, wait," the Seducer said quickly, as they reached for their blades. "It's me. I'm Fatahala."

Aneril frowned. "You're–?"

"It's true!" Stibbons piped up. "She's the one who brought me here."

"When you killed the last of the sisters, you broke their illusion over this place. That is why you see me now, in my true form."

A moment's hesitation, then Aneril relented. "Fine. And here's your damn jewels." She shoved the gems into Stibbons' waiting hands. "Now, let's get out of here."

Fatahala nodded and led the way into the caverns, navigating the broad passageways until they reached a sturdy wooden door. Aneril had never thought she'd feel relief when returning to the dark, frigid clime of Coldharbour, but here she was, breaking into a thin smile as her boots dug into black soil.

While Fatahala continued to be Stibbons' guide, leading him to the Hollow City, Aneril and Vareysa trailed behind them, hands finding each other again as they walked along, taking comfort in their real surroundings – no matter how distasteful.

"So…" Aneril said slowly. "Did you really?"

Vareysa chuckled, knowing well what Aneril meant. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"Did you really fall for her trick?" Aneril altered her question, fighting against the heat gathering about her neck.

"Nearly," Vareysa admitted. "But she used too much...wiles to be convincing." A pause, then, "It was interesting, though."

"What was?"

Vareysa laughed softly. "Your pout's too adorable, Anni."

"Ugh." Aneril rolled her eyes, and had started walking after their companions, when Vareysa gripped her arm, pulling her to a stop. Aneril had barely glanced back when she was yanked down by the collar for a kiss – firm and insistent, and Aneril rose to the challenge, slipping past her partner's lips and eliciting a quiet groan.

"Don't tempt me here, Anni," Vareysa whispered against her lips. "You have no idea how shameless I can be."

Aneril smirked, arm circling around Vareysa's waist. "Then give me some idea."

Vareysa mirrored her smile, a low purr in her throat as she kissed Aneril once more. "Beware what you wish for, darling."