Liriel washed the blood from her hands dispassionately and waited for the waters of the cold pond to still. She judged her appearance severely. The last few months of the journey had been bountiful, repairing the damage her exile had caused to her body. Food that had been scarce to the point of starvation on the way out of the settled lands now seemed to grow out of every bush. Game rushed about her, there for the taking. Water flowed freely in streams, and fell from the sky in blessedly cool showers. As a result, limbs that had withered to bones now filled once more with vitality. Skin paled to ghastliness glowed with vigor. She combed through her hair, the jet-black threads still tangled with one another. She would have cut it short with the merest flicker of Warpcraft, but the instability she had just suffered when trying to extract that last unlucky warrior's soul made her wary of the action.

She did not spare the cooling corpse another thought as the last of his lifeblood spilled out of arcane carvings in his flesh. Night would soon fall entirely and she had little time to waste. Ynriad lay before her, encircled by camps of "loyal" allies. The warm orange glow of campfires lent the city a hellish aura.

Sentries watched the main roads, alert for intruders that could change the balance of power in the city. In the last month alone, three nobles of various tribes had been waylaid in their journeys to it. It would have been amusing to see them try to attack her, but she did not have time to indulge herself.

She was not very practiced at stealth, especially when bereft of the ability to simply alter the perceptions of those around her, and could not risk discovery so close to the city. Instead, she dove into the river just outside Ynriad's outskirts. It ran through the city proper, butting against the most affluent areas. Few would be paying attention to it at this time of night, and no one would suspect anyone of trying to swim into the city so late in the season, as frost touched the sky and even the few stragglers still in the streets shivered against the cold.

She swam rapidly past the encircling encampments, keeping underneath the surface for as long as possible. Safely in the city proper, she heaved herself onto a bank near a stand of coppiced trees. She smiled despite herself. A minor plan, executed well, was a thing to be celebrated as much as any grand scheme in the making.

Cold seeped into her limbs as she hunted out her target. Tellyth's home was perched just above the river, a modest wooden structure held high between a trio of trees and surrounded by a decorative wall. The style was several hundred years out of date, and the wall was a miserable sight. Perhaps it had once been some dispirited artisan's attempt at the grandeur of old; stone battlements held by thorny greenery to present an imposing edifice. Its care had lapsed in the last few months, with some of the thorn bushes dying off completely and presenting an ugly, gap-toothed façade to the street.

Litiel stepped through one of these gaps. There was little inside the compound aside from the disused garden overgrown by hardy weeds and a raised hummock that held a small shed with its door hanging open. A flight of narrow wooden stairs at ground level led to a closed and locked trapdoor. Most old houses had been built in this style to avoid the occasional river flood. There was an air of age about the place, a style to it older even than Tellyth.

Liriel climbed the rough surface of the trees that formed the supports of the house, easily pulling herself along the ancient, knotted wood. The closed shutters on the first floor proved to be little barrier, and she pulled herself into the house proper quickly.

She breathed in slowly, tasting the air. The house stank of vosin sap. The narcotic component of arweh, it was a heady substance when taken alone, and worse when combined with certain other compounds. Vosin addiction was more common among aeldar who had suffered great grief. It expanded sensation a hundredfold, centring the imbiber in their own body and limiting the greater consciousness.

She began to climb the interior stairs, curious about the state of the home's sole occupant. She needed him to be nearly broken already, and the use of vosin would certainly make her plans smoother. She wondered how troubled his dreams had been made, that he would resort to such a crutch so quickly.

Liriel reached the penultimate floor to find Tellyth slumped over a small table, staring blankly into a wavering candleflame. The room was in disarray, scrolls of parchment and letters scattered across the ground. A few small pots lay uncovered on the table, all but one empty but for dried traces of brown sap. The last was still half-full, and Tellyth's left hand rested within it. Dishes of food and drink littered the floor, and she could see insects scurry into the corners as she walked into the room. Tellyth barely reacted to her presence, lost in the dance of the flame. As she watched, he raised his left hand and slowly licked the thick sap off the end of a finger.

The former war-leader himself was not as haggard a figure as she had expected. He still kept himself in good shape, the habits of a martial lifetime not leaving him just yet. His frame still filled his clothing well, body as capable as ever. He did not yet have the telltale red spots ringing his eyes and hands that indicated that the secondary effects of vosin consumption had ravaged his mind. He had fallen slowly into the habit, indulging only at night, out of sight of the supporters who still visited him. There was still a vestige of pride left in him. Good. She could use that.

She leaned across the table and blew out the candle.

The change was slow; vosin may have intensified the senses and brightened memories, but addicts often cut it with other compounds that slowed one's processing to extend its effects. Tellyth blinked owlishly, his eyes not adjusted to the darkness of the room. He cast his head from side to side, hearing her breathing but unable to see her or remember her entering. "Wha- who's there?"

"Tellyth. It's been some time."

He started, tried to jump back, and was caught by his own chair. He fell backwards hard, scrabbling for a weapon he did not have. "Back, daemon! I'll cut out your damned eyes and burn your soul to ash!"

"Try."

He threw a plate at where he thought she was. With her form shrouded by the gloom, it came no closer than her outstretched arm. A goblet followed it, then a bound book. In his backwards crawl he finally found the wall, and felt his way along it until he came to a sword mounted to it. Drawing the razor-edged weapon, he turned to face her, a semblance of confidence returned to his stance.

"This is not a dueling ring, Tellyth. I am here to talk." Judging the risk worthwhile, Liriel tapped into the power of the Warp. She reached out and gripped the sword with her mind, twisting it out of the warrior's grasp with as much ease as one would take a sweet from a petulant child. Even this minor display sent tremors within her mind, though she remained firmly in control. Another formation of power limned her form with light in every hue, shifting and blending. The vosin still in Tellyth left him slack-jawed at the sight. "Your people need you."

He squinted at her, trying to see her features beyond the blazing light. "Liriel? Seer Liriel? How are you still alive?" Fear dripped from his words. He plainly expected her to kill him.

"I was born and bred in the wilds, war-leader. Exile did nothing but strengthen me."

He tore his gaze away from her and his voice emerged tinged with anger and shame. "I am no war-leader any longer. You were right. All of what you said was right. And I never saw it."

"You saw it," Liriel said coldly and without mercy. "You saw it, and chose not to believe. You chose the lie."

Tellyth crouched low, hiding his face in his hands. "How was I supposed to know?" he moaned. "How was I supposed to know Belasys was surrounding you with his own people? How else was I supposed to know that he had planned the death of my troops and the destruction of the other tribes?"

A surge of anger surprised Liriel. Blind rage threatened to topple her control over her body and her connection to the Warp. Unrestrained power filled her and leaked into the world as she tried to stabilize herself. Her body grew cold and her aurora of light blazed in a visual cacophony.

Tellyth did not notice her struggle, only driving himself further back against the wall. "What else should I have done? I cannot disobey my King. A civilization needs a leader! Someone who obeys no master, but can adjudicate for the good of all. Otherwise, there is anarchy!"

Liriel lashed at the rebellious mind inside her with fury and malice until it once more hid quiescent. She could ill afford these constant challenges to her command. Turning her attention back to the fallen warrior, she spoke with subtle satisfaction. "No master? The king obeys his lusts as a river obeys its banks. Even now, his supposed 'advisors' squabble over how to best divide up the land and people like the quarters of slaughtered livestock while he devotes himself to pleasures of the flesh."

Tellyth flinched as if struck by her words, but did not deny their truth. He faced her instead, pleading, "Tell me, then, Seer. Advise me. What should I do? How can I make this right? How do I make him - us - well again?"

Liriel looked at him impassively. The narcotic was still dulling his cognition, but that would not last until morning. Carefully, she began to lace compulsion into her words, twisting his mind more directly. No challenge arose over her command of the power this time, but she was aware of the other mind inside her, watching. "The Blight. It is what is destroying the mind of your king and your people. I have found its source. Destroy it, and all will be well once more."

"How?"

"A ritual was conducted on the moon centuries ago by our enemies. It has been corrupting the World Spirit. Through that, it affects our dreams and thus our souls."

"Dreams," he said confused. "Yes, I- I've seen this! My own dreams have been… they terrify me. I wake with a throat raw from screaming, overcome by visions of death and madness. But why has this only just happened? What has changed?"

"We are nearing the final days of the ritual. It was conducted to prepare our souls for a harvest, and the harvest time is nigh. We must act quickly, lest we lose the opportunity to act at all."

"But…" Duty and desire dueled in his mind. Liriel was content to let the cognitive dissonance take its time. Eventually, the last vestiges of his centuries as distinguished guardian of the Ulluthani asserted themselves. "Who will protect the king? Who will safeguard the people?"

"Not you," Liriel said simply, crushing his spirit. She continued, "The king does not want you, nor do the people care. Drift on or away, if you choose; the moment you make a move towards power again, those who actually possess it will eliminate you." Appraising him again, she pushed a little harder. He was in no state to see the implication of her words. "If you wish for a restoration to your previous position, there is no path on this world that will lead you to it."

Tellyth was silent for a long while, and Liriel began to wonder if she had pushed too hard, had broken him in the throes of his vosin visions. Eventually, though, he looked up at her, a harder look set into his face. "How do we get there?"

Liriel smiled inwardly, though she kept her face stoic. "The royal shuttle - the one Miythis uses for his joyrides - you know the pilot? Can you trust him?"

"Yes. He's followed me for a century; he wanted to follow me into retirement to show his support, but I could not bear to have the king flown by someone I did not know."

"How noble. Tomorrow, we leave. Gather what followers you may have - only the truest and best. There can be no affordance for traitors or incompetents. We assault the palace at next nightfall. I will join you again then."

Tellyth nodded, but she did not see him as she cast herself from the window, climbing spider-like back to the ground and into the city proper to find somewhere to bide her time.