Nearl woke up in pitch darkness, when Shining's hand pressed down over her mouth. "Quiet," hissed the Sarkaz woman, shifting her weight beside Margaret in the bed that the three of them were sharing. "Riders in the town." She gestured at the window, which was opened just a crack. "Can you hear?" Nearl nodded silently, and slipped out from under the covers, crossing the room to where her armor and weapons were piled. She strapped them on while Shining woke Nightingale.

"What do you think we should do?" Margaret asked, pitching her voice low and soft. She stepped towards the window, only for Shining to gesture her back.

"It may not be pursuers," she muttered in reply. "If it isn't, then our options are broader. If it's the Redeemers, though, we had best try to get out of town without them noticing." She pulled a rope ladder out of her pack. "Do you think you could get Nightingale down this?"

"Yes," Margaret replied confidently.

"Then, shouldn't we get out of this room first? No matter who it is, we'll have more options if we're outside the room before whoever it is gets here," Nightingale contributed in a whisper. Nearl nodded, then stepped forward to the window, cautiously peeking out before she cracked it open. Nobody was visible in the streets below. She slipped out onto the tiled roof, cautious of her footing. Shining helped Nightingale out next, then followed, locking the door firmly behind them and then closing the window. They had a key if they wanted to get back in, and a locked door might convince anyone who tried to enter that they were still there.

Margaret couldn't use her Arts to help Nightingale. While the first traces of sunlight were starting to leak over the horizon, and the night had been a full moon, her Arts were visible in the midday sun, and would have ruined their ability to remain hidden. Instead, she hefted the Sarkaz woman onto her back. "Hang on tightly," she said softly. Then she and Shining took off running, leaping to the next rooftop in a soft clatter of shoes on tiles.

Once there, they slowed their pace, looking down into the town. The riders appeared to have paused in the main square, and were arrayed in a loose group, the leader addressing the others. Nearl paused, staring hard at the leader. There was something familiar about the figure on the horse, something that almost reminded her of someone she knew.

"What is it?" Shining whispered, sneaking up the rooftop to join her in looking towards the square. A hiss of indrawn breath beside her made Nearl jump. "Oh… oh no… not him… not here!" Margaret turned to her, astonished by the note of fear in Shining's tone.

"What? Who is it? Who's down there, and why is it so bad?"

"That's the Confessarius. My father." Shining's voice was flat and dark, even though it remained hushed. "If he's here… they'll burn down the hotel, the tailor's house, anywhere that did business with us, anywhere that helped us in any way, and they'll kill everyone associated with it. He believes in exemplary terror as a teaching method," she said grimly.

"We can't let that happen," Margaret hissed back. Nightingale nodded in agreement. "We have to stop him, somehow."

"We do… but look at them. There's a dozen Redeemers at least. One of them is almost certainly my replacement. And there's the Confessarius. If we attack them, we won't win. Not here, not now."

"But we can't just stand by and do nothing!" Every fiber of Nearl's body cried out in anguish at the thought of leaving the Redeemers to do their bloody work unhindered. "He's evil, and so are those Redeemers who are going to carry out his orders!"

Shining's face twisted in pain, and Nearl realized what she'd said, but before she could apologize, Nightingale spoke up. "What if… what if I made a distraction, something to convince them that they might catch up to us if they acted now? So that they'd be busy chasing that, rather than burning out our host and the patients we've helped here?" Her voice was trembling, but her face was composed. Shining nodded.

"That might work. It's the only thing that might, really." Nightingale nodded back. "Nearl, get ready to carry her. Nightingale, how long will you be able to hold your illusion?"

"A minute, maybe two." Margaret could hear the confidence in her tone, and hefted Liz onto her back. "Let me just get ready…" Soft, unobtrusive sparkles of light began to flicker around them, and then the trio appeared on the road, peeking around the corner towards the square. Nearl took off running along the roofs, staying hidden from the Redeemers. A shout from the square told them all that their doppelgangers had been spotted.

"Which way are you leading them?" Shining asked as they ran.

"Towards the eastern gate," Liz replied, her teeth gritted with the strain of holding the illusion.

"Good," the ex-Redeemer said quietly. "They know we're around now. Hopefully, they'll be more focused on catching up to us than on making examples of the townsfolk."

"How are we going to throw them off?" Margaret asked, controlling her breath carefully. "After all, we've been trying to avoid having them catch us for a while now."

"Did you notice the stream just outside the town to the east, when we were coming here? I did, and I recognized it. It leads up to some caves in the mountains. If we go into the water, then we should be able to throw off their trackers, and then if we follow it up into the caves, we can shelter there for some time while they search for us. We've been running, rather than holing up, so hopefully they'll assume we kept doing the same. If they do, they'll probably return to the capital and wait for word of us showing up somewhere else in Kazdel. Maybe we should head north, or back east to Leithanien or Siracusa, get out of Kazdel's territories."

"I hope that works," Nearl responded quietly. "I really hope it does."

They managed to get out of town without attracting the Redeemers' attention, but when they reached the woods, they ran almost directly into one of them, who had clearly been posted there to watch for just such an attempt. The black-and-white-robed man shouted something in a language Margaret didn't recognize, but she didn't care much what he was saying as Nightingale slid off her back and she charged, rushing the Redeemer before he could draw his weapon. She didn't quite make it in time, and he swung a long-handled battle-axe around to meet her charge. She blocked with her shield, the stroke hard enough to stagger her but not enough to break her balance, and countered with a low, hard mace blow that struck home on his thigh. She heard bone crunch under the impact, and he grunted with pain, trying to keep his balance and retaliate.

Margaret didn't give him the time to do that. Her shield slammed into his chest, throwing him to the ground, and she lashed out, shattering his shoulder with another blow. She leapt back, and let her Arts blaze out. "Run for it!" she shouted, and the three of them dashed into the woods.

They had a significant lead as they headed towards the stream. It would take time for the Redeemers to gather and pursue them, and they had Nearl's Arts to boost their physical abilities. Margaret had picked Nightingale up again, and they were making a remarkable pace.

They reached a small clearing the stream ran through… and stopped, abruptly. A group of black-and-white-clad Redeemers stood between them and the water's edge, and at their head was the Confessarius.

"Hello, daughter."


Shining froze, her mind racing as she saw the Confessor and his Redeemers standing between the three of them and the stream which had been their escape. This had been her nightmare ever since she had fled the Redeemers… and now, it was not only herself facing him down, it was her friends, the two people in the world she had grown to… to love. She forced herself to unfreeze, stepping forward slowly. "Confessarius." Her tone was steadier than she would have believed, and she met his eyes behind the mask, face controlled into an expressionless mask.

"You've come a long way from Kazdel, Absolutor. And yet I did not send you here." His voice was as deep and calm as it had always been, yet she could hear a tension in it, a certain note that had never been there before. Was he frightened? Angry? Irritated? She tried to pick it out, but he had always been the best at concealing his emotions and his thoughts that she had ever known.

"Is that so." She was calmer than she could have thought before, she realized. Something, some ineffable force within her, was stronger than her concern and fear, and was keeping her strong in the face of the Confessor and the Redeemers. "I am no longer the Absolutor. I would have thought that my departure would have made that clear."

"You are," he said, quietly. "It is what you are, you cannot deny it." His bronze mask, shaped like the skull of one of the pure Wendigo Sarkaz, concealed his face, but she had known him as long as she could remember, and she could hear the confidence, almost smugness, in his tone and read it in his stance. "It is what you were raised to be."

"Enough!" Nearl's voice, harsh and dark with anger, cut him off. "I've heard more than enough from you, Confessor of Kazdel. I know what you turned your daughter into, and I will not let it stand. You disgust me. You're here to take Shining? Come and take her… if you dare." The knight cast aside her shield, lifting her mace high in both hands. Her aura of light became almost blindingly bright.

"Margaret…" Shining paused, not sure what she wanted to say.

"If you're about to tell me that I don't have to do this, save your breath, Shining." Margaret didn't turn away from the Redeemers grouped at the water's edge. "I'm not going to leave you to them, even if they would let me do so."

"Brave of you, lady knight," the Confessarius said. "It is a shame that the House of Nearl will lose the last worthy bearer of its name." He gestured, and the Redeemers began to move forward. The last of Shining's doubt vanished, and she drew her sword, stepping up beside Nearl.

"Watch out for the Confessor's Arts," she murmured quietly as the two of them turned slightly, covering each other's side and back. "They aren't powerful in the conventional sense… but he can nudge your thoughts and perceptions, especially if you aren't watching out for them. I've even seen him override control of someone's body, but only the arm or the leg, and only if they were actively using it… like someone nudging you during a movement."

Nearl nodded an acknowledgement, and then the Redeemers were on them. This was nothing like when they'd been practicing, for then, even if they were both potent fighters, they were only facing one opponent at a time.

Shining drew on her Arts, the clearing dimming as she spun the light surrounding them into solid being. The first Redeemer to charge her slammed into a wall of hardened light, hard, and she stepped forward, lashing out with a cut that took his hand off at the wrist. Instead of following him down and finishing him, she spun sideways, dodging a spear thrust and striking towards a Redeemer wielding a heavy pole-hammer. He blocked her stroke, and she recovered quickly, leaving a hard-light impression of her blade behind, engaged with his weapon, wrapped a shield around herself to deflect another spear-blow that came whistling towards her, and slashed him in the belly, planting a solid kick to his knee that threw him to the ground.

The Redeemer with the spear recovered from the deflection of his weapon… just in time for Nearl's war hammer to come crashing into his back. He collapsed to the ground. A pair of Redeemer stepped forward, past another who Nearl had brought down, and raised their hands. Flames burst from one of the Redeemers' hands, and a shockwave of sound from the other's. Shining braced herself, bringing up a shield despite her fear that it wouldn't be enough… and then watched as the waves of sound and flame withered before her eyes, their power weakening to a wash of uncomfortably hot air and a loud bang. She risked a glance over her shoulder, and saw that Nightingale was leaning on her staff, one hand out and an expression of concentration on her face. Other Redeemers fought with phantasmal figures that sprang out of the air.

Shining knew it was only a momentary advantage, and she leapt forward to take advantage of it. She struck out, and another Redeemer reeled away, clutching at a blood-spouting artery as she punished his division of attention between herself and the phantom he'd been fighting. Another Redeemer's blade glanced off one of her shields, and the man who'd attacked Nearl to realize just how fatally he'd overcommitted the blow against the knight's supposedly unprotected back before her sword caught him in the ribs and flung him aside in a splash of red. Shining felt a flash of hope. That was nine Redeemers down. They were winning, or at least not losing… and then Nightingale's phantoms winked out.

"Enough! Throw down your weapons!" The Confessarius' voice came from behind her. It came from behind her and Nearl, and she realized just how fatally they had allowed themselves to be distracted. She spun, and saw the Confessor standing over Nightingale, the tip of his twisted sword pressed lightly into the young woman's throat. A trickle of blood ran down Liz's neck, starkly red against her pale skin.

The Redeemers they'd been fighting stepped back slightly. "Throw down your weapons, I said!" His voice had become a snarl, losing its usual melodious depth. "Or I'll open her throat and make you watch her bleed to death!"

"And if we do? What happens if I surrender to you?" Shining lowered her sword from its guard position, keeping an eye on him and the rest of the Redeemers. "It's me you want, after all."

"I want you to return to your post." His voice was flat, no longer a snarl. "You are, after all, the Absolvarius. The one who purifies the Sarkaz of sin. You know that that post must not remain empty… and you know just how well-suited you are to it. You are, after all… Naaldlusi."

"What does that mean?" Nearl's voice was inquiring, but Shining could hear the despair in her voice. She couldn't blame her, either… it seemed like a hopeless situation.

"Naaldlusi?" A faint amusement entered the Confessarius' tone. "I suppose it cannot hinder me to educate you somewhat, Margaret Nearl. Naaldlusi is the name I gave to my daughter… and well does it fit her. In the myths of the Sarkaz, the Naaldlusi is one of the patrons of our people… the darkest of them, a monster who strikes from the darkness to bring down those who would threaten us. In the ancient language of our people, it roughly means 'who walks in darkness.' I gave my daughter this name for good reason… it is both her purpose, and her talent."

"Enough, Confessarius." Shining kept the pain she felt out of her voice, hoping against hope that her father could not see it anyways. "You want the Absolvarius Naaldlusi to return to you. If I do, what will happen to these two?"

"The girl is a valuable asset. She won't be wasted, simply returned to the facility you rescued her from. I have to thank you for the training you gave her, it will not be long before she is suited to be deployed for purpose."

"And Nearl?" She kept her tone even. I cannot show fear. Fear is weakness. He will see that weakness and use it.

"She knows too much to be permitted to leave Kazdel. I suppose an… arrangement could be made, if she is willing to serve our order, that would preserve her life." Shining didn't have to look at Margaret's face to know how she felt about that idea, but she did anyways, her resolve firming within her. "Or perhaps… not. If she will not take the offer, then it will be necessary to silence her."

"Very well," Shining said, stepping forward, off hand extended and empty. The Confessarius' body straightened in triumph.

"Good, my daughter… very good." He stepped away from Nightingale… and the clearing went pitch-black as Shining drew on her Arts more strongly than she ever had. The brilliant sunlight that had been pouring into the clearing vanished as if the sun had been blotted away and the stars swept from the sky, and darkness reigned. She could still see perfectly, though, as the Confessor jerked in shock.

He spun to sweep his sword down at Nightingale, only for it to be stopped by a diamond-hard plane of light. Before he could react, Shining had crossed the clearing, and her foot drove hard into his belly in a flying kick that sent him sprawling awkwardly to the ground. She used the momentum to leap away. A Redeemer, still disoriented by the sudden disappearance of the light in the clearing, heard her coming somehow, and managed to bring the metal haft of his battle-axe around to block blindly, and she struck through it furiously, concentrating her Arts in the blade of her sword and cutting through not only his weapon but his torso, spilling his chest, arms, and head to the ground in gory ruin. Nearl, behind her, let her Arts blaze up, but even so, Margaret's light could only illuminate her arm's reach before it was drawn away and snuffed out by Shining's power… yet it was enough, at least, for the knight to fight the few Redeemers who could find their way to her, and she stood her ground, hammer in hand.

Margaret could handle herself against the few Redeemers who would find their way to her, and Shining turned to Nightingale. Liz had recovered her staff, levering herself upright and putting distance between herself and the Confessor. Shining crossed the clearing in a moment, a vicious, unseen stroke opening the throat of a Redeemer, who by blind luck was almost in position to attack Nightingale. She took the arm off another who came towards the sound of her attack, then drove a thrust through the heart of another with a bow.

It was the furthest thing from a fair fight that could be imagined. None of her foes could even see her, except for the brief flashes of light their eyes might pick up as her blade and her hard-light constructs appeared, close to them, before they would never again see anything. She took the head off the last Redeemer standing, then turned, stalking towards her father, where he stood, his sword raised in a guard position, his head questing about, trying to hear her or sense her presence.

"So, your offer to me is that you will let me return?" Her tone was harsh, mocking, and she let it echo off another hard-light construct before she drove a savage punch into her father from behind as he spun to face where he had thought her voice had come from.

"And the cost is only the lives of my friends?" She broke his knee with a hard kick, simply not where he thought she would be as a desperate sword blow found only air. The crack of bone filled her with savage satisfaction, fueled by the hatred bubbling up through her at the evil offer he'd made.

"Nightingale – back to the facility that nearly tortured her to death in order to make her a fitting weapon for your hand, then off as a disposable asset." Her foot crunched down on his sword hand, bones shattering beneath her boot. "Nearl dead at your hands, or maybe mine. Is that the offer you want me to accept?" Her sword flicked the mask away from his face.

"You are weak, Father. Do you know why? You thought you had us exactly where you wanted us. You did, for that matter. But you miscalculated. And you don't have the power to face me. And now…" her blade slid down, pressing lightly into the hollow of his throat… "now you have to pay for that." She tensed her muscles, ready to drive it home.

Two things stopped her. The first of these was her father's laughter. "Ha… hahaha… I chose well, Naaldlusi, when I named you. Truly, you… you are my worthy successor. Go ahead… take my life, you've earned it."

The other was Nearl's hand, landing on her shoulder. "No, Shining!" The knight pulled her back. Her Arts broke off, and a wave of weariness swept through her, followed by a surge of searing pain. She coughed hard, doubling over, and blood splattered onto her father's face. "You can't do this!" Margaret clung to her, supporting her and holding her back. She could feel what had happened. The power she'd exerted to extend her Arts that deeply and strongly had been too much. Breathing was hard, and hurt searingly, and her vision was tunnelling badly. Nightingale hurried to her side as well, her Arts flickering to life around her. Shining felt both her and Margaret's Arts infuse her body, hurrying to repair the damage she'd done to herself. The Confessarius looked up, uncomprehendingly, as her friends struggled to heal her.

"You've seen what she is," he said softly, pulling himself away slowly. Clearly, he knew that crippled as he was, he wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to kill him. He heaved himself upright, using his sword as a cane, and hobbled towards his burdenbeast. "And yet you still heal her wounds? Why?"

"Because…" Shining coughed, raspingly, but it hurt less to breathe now, and she struggled back to her feet, facing him, and sheathed her sword. "Because we are the Followers, now. We give aid and comfort to those in need, and we do not turn our backs. And because we're friends. Because I turned away from the evil you would have me do in the name of the Sarkaz people."

Her tone was strange to her… and she realized that it was pity that changed it. "You know exactly what the value of taking anyone's life is, Confessarius… but you don't know, and you probably never will know, the value of a life given, returned to someone you've healed… or lain down in defense of those who you love. I've learned that." Her tone hardened once again, firmer now as she felt the pain of her self-inflicted injuries subside. "Keep on doing what you call necessity, father… one day you'll have to pay the reckoning for it. My friends and I will heal the wounds that Theresis and you, and those like you, have left on the Sarkaz people. But I will give you a word of warning. You will never again seek to harm those I call friends." Margaret tightened her grip on Shining's arm, but the threat had clearly hit home. Wordless, the Confessarius rode off, hunched in his saddle with the pain of his wounds.

When he was out of sight, Shining slumped back in Margaret's arms, letting the knight lower her to the ground. Liz looked around at the field, said "Excuse me please," and lurched away to retch. Shining couldn't blame her. The bodies of almost two dozen Redeemers who had accompanied the Confessarius lay strewn about the field. Most of them showed the marks of her blade. The thought of that disgusted her, now that her fear and anger had left her, but only vaguely… it was too hard to think about that right now.

"Hold me," she said softly to Margaret, as exhaustion and injury dragged her down into unconsciousness.


Nightingale's hand trembled slightly as she rested it on Shining's stomach. She focused, trying to still it, but her emotions made it hard to do. She was concerned, and frightened, and relieved all at once. She had never felt as helpless as when the Confessor was holding her hostage against Margaret and Shining, even when she'd been at the facility… and her heart had dropped even further when she thought Shining was taking his deal. But Shining had saved her… only, it still frightened her and nauseated her to think of the aftermath of that. And she was deeply worried. Shining had pushed herself too far, and in doing so, she'd nearly died. She and Nearl had worked hard to save her life, but Shining was still unconscious. Her breathing was easier than it had been, but that was the only improvement they could see.

She reached for her Arts again, listening to the strange, birdsong-like music of Shining's life. Tiny flickers of light surrounded the two of them, winking in and out of existence. She heard a dissonant note in the music, and focused on it, listening and tuning it back into harmony with the rest of her friend's life. Shining's breath stuttered briefly, and Liz froze in fear, until it returned to its normal rhythm. She continued to listen carefully, and found herself slipping almost into a trance, eyes closed. Nothing else seemed out of tune, and she eventually opened her eyes, inhaling deeply as she snapped back out of her trance.

She looked over at Margaret, who was sleeping fitfully in a corner of the cave they'd made camp in. She had needed healing too, having not gone unwounded in the fight with the Redeemers, and clearly, though healed, her wounds were still troubling her, but Liz was fairly sure that it was Shining's condition that was the knight's main concern.

Liz watched Nearl toss and turn, muttering something. Part of her wanted to hurry to her side, and wake her up, but another part of her was worried that if she left Shining's side, her friend would need her aid and she wouldn't be there to help. She looked back down at the white-haired woman… and met her eyes, open and awake. "Liz," Shining said weakly. "Thank you. Are you… are you all right? Is Margaret?"

"Margaret's fine," Nightingale said, trying to push Shining back down as she struggled to sit up. "Please, Shining! Stay still! You nearly died from overusing your Arts." She slumped forward onto Shining's chest, tears dampening her cheeks. "I was so scared… I thought…" She clung to her friend, sobbing out the fear and strain of the day.

"Nightingale?" Nearl stirred, then pulled herself upright, turning quickly. "What's wrong? Is Shining… What is it?" She whipped around, then saw that Shining was awake. She hurried over, bending down to touch Shining's wrist. "Thank the gods," she said quietly, bending her head and clasping Shining's hand in hers.

"I'm all right," Shining said somewhat more strongly. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, wrapping her arms around the two of them. Nightingale hugged her back tightly, reassuring herself by the contact.

"You saved me, Shining," she said quietly. "Again. Thank you so much…" Shining flinched, and her face twisted in… pain?

"Sorry," Nightingale said, releasing her grip quickly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, did I grip too hard?"

"No… it wasn't that." Shining's voice was harsh with pain, but now Liz could tell that it was emotional, rather than physical. "I just… what I did back there… I can't run away from being the Absolutor, can I? I can't stop being what I am."

Nearl put a hand on her shoulder. "You fought to save us, right? That doesn't make you the Absolutor. It doesn't make you evil."

"But I didn't have to kill them all. None of them had a chance against me… I could have disabled them, could have disarmed them or crippled them without killing… but I didn't want to. I wanted to kill them. I wanted to drive home to my father that he was weaker than me, then take his life. I… I'm what he made me, after all." Shining seemed to shrink in on herself. "Four hundred and eighty-nine, now," she said quietly. "Four hundred and eighty-nine lives I've taken. Will I ever be able to clean my hands?"

"Shining…" Margaret reached her hand up to Shining's cheek, touching her gently. The three of them were silent for a while, then Nearl spoke again, quietly and carefully. "It might be true that you killed people when you didn't need to… but that doesn't make you the Absolutor. Would the Absolutor have turned her back on the Confessor when he gave you that choice? Would she have put her life on the line to defend us?" Shining shook her head sharply. Liz couldn't tell whether it was in denial of Nearl's point, or an answer to her question.

"You said it yourself, earlier," Nearl said softly, taking one of Shining's hands in her other hand. "You have learned how to give a life, not just take one. Shining… I'm proud to call you my friend."

Nightingale took Shining's other hand, squeezing it gently. "You've saved my life twice, now, Shining. You may have killed however many people it was, long ago and far away. But I don't know an Absolutor. I know Shining, the woman who keeps on saving me. My friend."

Shining's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before she wordlessly gripped their hands tightly, holding onto them like a drowning woman clinging to a life preserver. "Thank you," she whispered finally, her voice choked and quiet with emotion. The three of them stayed there, silently, for a long, long time.


A/N: And that's the last chapter before the hiatus. As I said, I've been traveling a lot and have fallen behind on my writing, and I'm also having trouble nailing down just how I want to do the next arc. I'm planning on continuing to write some one-shots during the hiatus, while I figure out just what I want to do, and get a bit of a backlog built back up before I start posting this again. Hopefully I'll start writing it again in a week or so, and it will be over by the end of the month, but check my Twitter ( AdmiralTis) for updates if you want more news.