Far distant from the unfolding tragedy, high up a mountain now almost deserted, a goddess stalked along the only existing path. Her stride was full of purpose, hands clenched into fists. Calm her expression may be, but her heart was not; it clenched painfully at the thought of seeing a good friend reduced to a monster. Worry gnawed at her, sadness tried to gain a hold but was repelled. She went anyway, despite the pain she knew lay ahead. Her power and presence were yet contained within herself, a draconic body resting in the earthpulse right beneath Rayfalke Spiritcrest.

Malevolence began to flare weakly as she neared, a blanket of darkness suffusing the area surrounding him. Velvet absorbed it all with little more than a thought, knowing her destination nearby.

After that and through a steady cloud of misty darkness, he came in sight when she scaled another slope. His scales were pristine in their dark grey hues, a wiry body resting, curled up. Even breaths drew in Malevolence before expelling it from the creature's nostrils, eyes closed on this first glance. Then he noticed her presence, lids sliding back to reveal slitted pupils the size of Velvet's head. His form unfurled in a fluid motion, a long neck and tail flowing outward while a domain surged around them to capture what seemed like prey. Just like she observed before, Eizen appeared less massive than he actually was, standing many times higher than her with his wings spread. As unfitting as the comparison was, he stood more with the wiry grace of a cat than the sturdiness of a dog.

Velvet let the dragon roar at her in challenge before unleashing her own power. The domain that was his to this moment became hers, emptying of Malevolence as she drew it back in; her blessing established itself and she changed with it. The skin flaps that so looked like bandages pulled back to reveal crimson flesh on her left arm before it grew, losing the human proportions and turning into a vicious, jagged claw.

Eizen's roar stopped short, though she could not tell if it was out of instinctive fear or recognition.

"It's been a while, Eizen."

Velvet did not expect anything to come of it, but she had wanted to speak with him for a while now; with Edna gone, she could finally do so. Even if he would not answer, it felt good to at least say goodbye. She remained standing where she was, holding the dragon's gaze.

Then he surprised her yet again.

"Vel...vet."

Her eyes widened when she heard it, the low rumble of Eizen's voice, distorted by his draconic body. He spoke slowly, hesitantly, but he did speak. Velvet's chest clenched again but this time in joy; she began to smile and took a step closer, then another and another. The dragon let her, head following her motions. "So you're still there."

"Barely." The dragon shuddered and shook itself, a motion little different from a dog yet far more violent due to his size; Velvet ignored the cloud of dust it threw up. "Spea...king, di... diff... hard."

Her lips twitched upward. "Well, obviously. Your mind has been choked by Malevolence for ages. Don't say any more, okay? Just listen." She spoke softly and reached out a hand to put on his head, which he pulled back from. The hand faltered and returned to her side, but Eizen did lower his head to the ground and lay there, watching her. She took that as agreement and sat as well. "I am back here because Maotelus... Phi is in danger. And on the way, I guess I picked up a few strays. I don't even know where to start, but I guess this may be good? During my time sealed with Laphi, Innominat, I ascended to godhood myself. I am Empyrean now." To emphasize, she pulled open the earthpulse and reached out with her front paws, quickly climbing onto the Spiritcrest with her second body.

Eizen had looked up when a black rift appeared on the ground behind Velvet, fifty metres wide. He had tensed when claws bigger than his own reached out of the opening, but her raised hand stopped him from doing anything else. "This is me," she continued as her own draconic form rose from the darkness. "I am Minkkubi, the goddess of darkness. Patron of all that have fallen to Malevolence and final arbiter of Desolation. Or... something like that, we're still figuring that out."

Her old friend raised his head to study Minkkubi, the Empyrean gingerly unfurling herself into a somewhat more massive form than his own. After devouring so much Malevolence and growing for over a year, she stood a metre or two longer than Eizen. Yet at the same time, she did not even begin to compare to any of her fellow Empyreans.

She continued to speak after that, telling her friend of her journey; he simply listened, eyes never leaving Velvet until, when she came to her first visit to the Spiritcrest, his head jerked up to look around. "Edna, where?"

His sudden worry drew a smile from Velvet, who shook her head gently. "She went on a journey with friends, a young shepherd came by a few weeks ago. Don't worry, we will keep an eye on them."

He let out a low growl at that, but did not say anything.

She enjoyed this conversation, one-sided as it was. Yet even then, even though Eizen remained coherent, Velvet knew her blessing was just a stopgap measure; it would not last. But at least she now knew he was still there, still fighting that which wanted to wrest control from him. As he always had. "Hold on, Eizen. Laphi is figuring out a way to turn you back. If you want it." He looked at her for a long time after she said that, but did not respond; it took a while for Velvet to realise she was crying and to wipe at her face. "Sorry about that, I just, I don't like seeing you like this."

Eizen hesitated for a moment, but then his head drew closer and pushed against her chest. Even though the motion would have outright broken a mortal woman, she figured it was the weakest he could do and gave him a pat. "Thank you."

She left soon after, her domain receding and returning Eizen to his internal struggle. The dragon went back to sleep, but Velvet was still crying even as she walked away; her heart throbbed both in joy and sadness. Her old friend was still there, which meant he could be saved. Yet this also meant she could fail at saving him.

She had to talk to her brother about this.

Further to the west, Margaret made it back to Marlind without interruption beyond a few stray hellions. She remained embarassed about having failed to treat a princess as she should have. Which was why she continued to pout at her grinning seraph friend.

Pout and grin both fell away when they saw the crowd in the town square. "Seraphim in there," Symonne told her quietly, "Sorey must be doing something."

Getting closer, they found a bunch of tough-looking men and women standing opposed to the shepherd, a few dead dogs strewn across the area for some reason, and Sorey himself talking to a ragged and muscled man. Margaret quietly stepped next to one of the watching knights. "Excuse me sir, would you happen to know what is going on here?"

Her helmet moved ever so slightly as she cast a glance Margaret's way before coughing, clearing her throat. "We, ah, received orders to march for Glayvend Basin and push Rolance again, ma'am. The gentle shepherd is worried for the people here and tries to negotiate for these mercenaries to escort them to safety."

The girl nodded, then sheepishly lowered her head. "I see. Thank you, and apologies, ma'am. It is difficult to tell a knight's gender while fully armoured." Symonne was staring off in the direction of Glayvend Basin, currently thinking of something else.

"It is quite alright, I understand." The older woman leaned a little closer to whisper conspiratorially: "I got them wrong a lot when I was younger, too. Really takes wearing the armour yourself before you realise how to tell men and women apart."

Margaret left it at that and bowed her head in thanks, to which she received a nod before the knight turned back to whatever Sorey was up to. Margaret hesitated for a moment and, after looking at the crowd, carefully raised one hand to poke Symonne's rear for attention. Worry gnawed at her heart after hearing this, both for the soldiers and the people. When her friend turned, she nodded toward the commotion. Symonne got the idea and made to turn, but then poked Margaret's butt in revenge before darting away. The younger girl just rolled her eyes, their entire exchange unseen by all. A copy of Symonne appeared next to her moments later, visible and audible not even to other seraphim; illusionists were quite versatile like this. "For one thing," the copy began immediately, "Sorey sucks at negotiation. Five thousand Gald is overpriced for an escort job away from a battle that hasn't even been fought."

The human girl ran some numbers in her head and had to agree. She could interject and help Sorey, but he would never get anywhere if people kept making his life easier, so Margaret stayed where she was. She waited for a minute or two, unable to hear the conversation up ahead over the muttering around her. Worry about the upcoming battles, for the town, for families and loved ones were thick in the air. But no Malevolence. Yet.

Symonne's illusion snapping her fingers alerted Margaret to new information. "Let me rephrase my earlier statement: Sorey does not suck at negotiation. He just doesn't seem to have any idea how to do it at all. No attempt at haggling, no nothing. He just coughed up the money and from what Lailah said, it's basically all his savings."

Margaret frowned at that and muttered to herself; carrying five thousand on her person, or even having five thousand for herself would have been unthinkable a year ago. That was what their old inn earned in a busy week or two, before the staff's salaries and other expenses took a big cut out of it. Their earnings tripled since the Crowe's Nest opened its doors, though. Every day was a busy day due to the seraphim, not to mention that Velvet's food was as delicious as she remembered it being. A nearly perfect business strategy, she noted idly; draw people in with the prospect of speaking with an actual seraph and Velvet's cooking to bring them back

Granted, Margaret did have four thousand Gald and a few coins on her person; the Bloodwings had some reserves set up already and Velvet insisted she take enough money to cover her bases in an emergency, which she did. Sorey seemed to have gained funds from elsewhere, seeing as he obviously did not take money for doing his duty. Alisha, most likely.

Well, he had no Alisha anymore. Which meant he really was throwing all the money he had into helping these people. Admirable, Margaret found, but also shortsighted.

Symonne's illusion vanished and the girl herself wandered back with a confused expression while the mercenaries spread out around town. "I, um, underestimated the heart of these people," she told Margaret sheepishly. "The leader, Lukas, only asked for two thousand after Sorey just agreed to it. Said he was only testing Sorey for his intentions."

"Then Sorey is quite lucky," Margaret muttered back. She knew there were good men out there, but not all of them and not even the vast majority. "Funny, I'm more pessimistic about this than you are."

Her friend huffed and shrugged. "It happens."

Then again, it was still a relief to know there were still good people. She decided to join as well and do her part in helping out, traversing the slowly dispersing crowd, back to where Sorey and Lukas were talking details. Mikleo tapped his shoulder and pointed to them, at which Sorey turned his head before brightening. "Oh, Margaret! Are you feeling better now?"

She just smiled back and nodded. "Right as rain. I heard something happened?"

Lukas looked her over curiously, then nudged Sorey. "Who is she, boss?"

"Oh, this is Margaret. She helped us out earlier and she's good."

"A pleasure."

"Yeah, I could tell. And likewise." His eyes narrowed a little as he shook the girl's hand, studying her and finding even someone more than a head shorter unflinching. Her gaze remained calm, feet braced ever so slightly; ever ready, even if he were to use the greeting to pull her in. There was an understanding between them; Margaret saw the stance of a man who fought for a living, who had waded through battle after battle and come out on top. She took note of scars that spoke of injuries braved, while Lukas beheld a near-perfect stance even at rest, ready to react even to the unexpected. He felt the callouses of rigorous training on her fingers, yet also noticed signs of youth that should not be there.

Their hands separated and Lukas continued to frown. "How old are you?"

Margaret looked back up at him for a moment, unsure what to say while Symonne giggled with a finger pointed at her. In the end, the human girl sighed. "I was born in Winter. This is my fourteenth Summer."

The seraph girl continued to laugh when she saw the flabbergasted looks from her fellow spirits. Lukas just nodded, but Sorey blinked in shock. "Fourteen? You look older than that."

She shrugged at that, having no words in mind to speak. Lukas huffed. "I'll take your word for it. Young or no, I can tell you're skilled and that's all that matters."

This time, Margaret smiled again. "Then I assume there will be no one disagreeing with me joining you for a while? I do not expect payment, doing my part in protecting these people is all I seek."

"Aye, fine with me. You got a problem with it, boss?"

Sorey lamely shook his head and Margaret smiled at him now. "Marvelous!"

Suffice it to say, she had to answer questions about her youth for the next two days. Sorey attempted to get her to return home until she was older, Mikleo agreed with him, Lailah was more curious than admonishing, and Edna, unaware of how humans worked, needed Symonne to explain what the problem was. Then it took three more days to reach Griflet Bridge with the villagers in tow, kindly without more babying from Sorey.

The bridge's new foundation itself had already received sturdy, wooden planks for foot traffic and lighter carriages to pass over. Unfortunately for Margaret, she could not spend much time taking in the beginning effort, as a contingent of Hyland's troops awaited them on the other side.

It turned out, Alisha was taken into custody and back to Ladylake on "suspicion of having used the shepherd to plant discord among the populace, and aiding the Rolance Empire in its invasion". Margaret and Symonne could immediately tell what it really was, though; a false charge meant to strongarm Sorey into fighting for the kingdom of Hyland. If he refused however, Alisha's enemies at court may just have her executed for treason.

"I just don't believe they would dare," Symonne muttered while they watched from next to Lukas. "The populace loves her, there might be civil war if their favourite princess is executed on this particular charge. It's too fleeting, too out-there. They wouldn't believe it even if it were true. One sentence into the right ears would devastate Ladylake." Margaret nodded along and, as she beheld the conflicted Sorey, she had an idea.

Some quiet discussion later that had Lukas' brows furrow, Symonne sent an illusion of herself forward, hidden from sight. This illusion slowly marched into Sorey's field of vision to gain his attention. "Do not answer me," the fake Symonne told him and the seraphim with him, "just listen. Margaret and I have friends who can get Alisha out of there. We will bring them in, so give the answer you want to give instead of the one they want to hear."

Even if reason dictated that Alisha would be safe, Margaret knew that humans were not reasonable creatures. So she would do what she could.

Sorey pondered the seraph girl's for a long moment, as did his companions. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked up at the general on his horse. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

The man schooled his expression quickly, but some had still noticed his surprise. He nodded. "Very well, Shepherd. Have a good day." Then a wave of his hand had another, unarmored man hop onto a horse and turn around to ride back to Ladylake. The troops moved on, past the muttering townsfolk. Looking back to Margaret, Sorey found that her gaze had hardened; she gave him a nod before turning away and toward the road. Symonne vanished from his side and appeared next to hers, which drew surprise from them.

"Excuse me," Lailah muttered as she made to walk, "I wish to have a word with Margaret before she departs."

He let her go and turned to the other two, a little curious. "Did you see what Symonne was doing? Was that an arte?"

"Maybe her blessing is teleportation," Mikleo theorised in turn. Sorey nodded, he could see that.

Edna's eyes had narrowed and she only snapped out of whatever thoughts she had when Sorey nudged her shoulder lightly. She blinked, then shrugged. "My brother wrote me about an arte of his to teleport with, but I don't know it. If this were an arte, we would have felt the mana build up. So I say blessing."

"...this is the first time you agreed with me, isn't it?"

"Don't get used to it, Mibu."

Mikleo just sighed while Edna turned to watch the soldiers march over the impromptu bridge in lockstep, column by column. Then the water seraph met Sorey's eyes. "Are you sure we can trust them with this?"

It was clear who he meant, and what. Sorey nodded immediately. "Yes." Margaret may be young, but she was competent. He trusted her.

Next, Lukas walked over to them with a nod. "I guess the plan doesn't change; I heard the kid talking to her seraph friend, she's got guts if nothing else." Sorey owlishly stared at the taller man, who grinned and pointed his thumb at where Margaret stood talking to Lailah. "Smart one, too. I never would have thought of exchanging messages over seraphim."

"He has a point," Mikleo agreed while Sorey nodded.

Further down the river, Margaret firmly shook her head at the firekeeper. "I am afraid not. It would be an honour to be squire, but my goals lie elsewhere at the moment. Perhaps I will reconsider the matter at a later time."

The fire seraph bowed her head at that. "I understand. It is not a matter to be forced, but I thank you for giving it due thought and being candid with me. Many would simply jump at the opportunity to take a position this close to the shepherd. Will you two be alright?"

The girls nodded almost as one and Margaret smiled softly. "I am glad you understand and yes, we will be fine. Will you?"

Lailah made to answer, but hesitated and glanced back to Sorey and her fellow seraphim, the former talking to Lukas. She considered the matter for long moments before giving her answer: "Yes, I believe so. Our road may be difficult, but we will manage. A shepherd can not afford failure, and neither can I."

Symonne's eyes narrowed a little, but she said nothing until after they exchanged their goodbyes and separated. Once they did however, her frown became more pronounced. "Not being able to afford failure does not mean they will not fail. It sounds more like she is lying to herself."

"Perhaps she is," Margaret agreed softly, the two of them making to walk as well. "I am more concerned about the fact she seems to have brushed off Alisha as the squire entirely, as if she hardly cares. Or perhaps it is because she cares most about making the shepherd succeed." Reason would dictate as such, but it bothered her nonetheless.

"Anyway, we will walk downstream for a while and cross the river, then return to Marlind. I need you to hide me from sight until we reach the Bloodwing outpost."

"Can do."