{Notes} Thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter. There will be a few mistakes in this chapter. It's late, but I wanted to post this tonight.
Those of you who hate the whole creature!Voldemort plotline will dislike the next few chapters. Just as a forewarning. The creature aspect of this story will be large for the next few chapters, after which, it will dwindle in the background once again. I intend for the plot to focus on the political scene and Izar's growing relationship with the Dark Lord (and the war).
Chapter Six
The scream coming from his mouth was too sudden to muffle as the little brat snuck through his mind shields. Cygnus placed a hand over his mouth, silencing the brat himself as Regulus flew toward the Veil.
Izar's horror didn't last long.
Cygnus breathed sourly as he watched the fool's body change direction at the last moment, flying into the surrounding benches. Whoever saved the idiot didn't seem to care to soften Regulus' landing as the man went down heavily. With a sharp eye, Cygnus studied his surroundings. The blood-traitor hadn't stopped his brother's descent, either had the Mudblood. So… who saved the whelp?
He looked up, trying to squint into the darkness. He used his descendant's ability of magic-sensitivity and finally became aware of the tantalizing magic coming from the shadows above. It seemed to be everywhere and no where at once, almost if the man were circling the lip of the cavity above.
Cygnus tipped back his head and laughed.
This was rich. The Dark Lord saving a worthless servant? A Dark Lord defending a man who couldn't even shield himself from a simple push of magic?
It was simply… "Classic," he pondered in amusement. "This is simply classic," he breathed, opening his arms wide. The eyes upon him were a delicious source of entertainment. He continued to step down the tiered benches and toward the pit of the room.
Eagerly, he watched Regulus scramble up, his wand out and ready. In fact, Sirius and the Mudblood both had wands trained on him, but like fools, they weren't casting. His steps faltered as he waited for the Dark Lord to show himself and stop his advance toward the Veil. But there was no appearance from the dirty half-blood. Even the Dark Lord wouldn't lift a wand on him!
He chuckled, catching Regulus' eye. The man's jaw was clenched and the wand leveled on Cygnus was sturdy.
"You can't stop me," Cygnus whispered gleefully. "You know you can't stop me."
He took a step forward, and surprisingly, Regulus was the one to take the extra step closer to him. The man looked unhinged as he leaned toward Cygnus, his eyes dilated in fury. "Don't count on that, Cygnus. I have no hesitations of hurting Izar if it meant stopping you."
"How noble," Cygnus drawled. "It impresses me that you finally realized your son is being possessed. Tell me, what made you realize it? Was it the Dark Lord? The man who was away during this whole… inheritance? Or was it the Black family tapestry? Either way, it's rather insulting, don't you think?" Cygnus shrugged nonchalantly and looked away from the reddening face of Regulus. "I am curious to know what you plan on doing to extract me from your son's body. I'm afraid Legilimency won't work."
Regulus seemed as if he wanted to keep his face expressionless at the confession, but his worry won out in the end. The man's lips thinned and his charcoal eyes looked above Cygnus' head at the opening of the cavity. Quickly, Cygnus turned, intent to see the stalking Dark Lord but shadows were the only sight that greeted him. He turned back around, chuckling. "No, not even a Master Legilimens can assist you, I'm afraid."
He then turned to look at the Mudblood. Her green eyes were leveling him with a cold stare, a stare he wouldn't likely associate with Light-sided women. It looked as if she were smug, not at all worried about her valuable son. But then again, maybe she was looking forward to Izar's destruction. From what his descendant's memories showed Cygnus, this woman was a no-show in his life. Someone who dropped him off at the Muggle orphanage.
No Black should be raised by filthy Muggles.
Turning away from her, Cygnus issued a deep purr as he eyed the Veil. He was getting restless and tired— both signs that he was now mortal and had limitations. He would need to eat, sleep, and reenergize. Already, he was feeling the strain on his body. A full out battle with these… relatives was appealing, but he knew it would only tire him out considerably before his real confrontation with the Dark Lord.
Perhaps he would leave them alive for later. He needed some excitement in his life, no? As long as he killed the Dark Lord today, he could handle two Blacks and a Mudblood trailing after him. And who knew? They may be useful for something in the near future.
Cygnus considered the three standing in front of him before lunging. The Mudblood moved out of the way, lowering her wand but keeping it available. Cygnus had no time to consider this as he eagerly side-stepped a nasty hex from his father. He crooned in excitement when he noticed Regulus' expression and stance. The man was serious and fully capable of holding his own in a battle. He almost appeared more than willing to attack the body of his son.
Perhaps Cygnus had underestimated this man.
"Good, good," Cygnus praised as he nonverbally blocked the Severing Hex from connecting with his face. "Very good."
His praise seemed to ignite a stronger reaction within Regulus. The man growled and lunged forward. If there had been foam coming from the man's mouth he would have resemble a wild beast. The Dark spells flying in Cygnus' direction were coming at him with vast velocity. He marveled at the skill before ducking and blocking the attack with his own. He didn't need to verbalize his incantations. It was elementary to him.
There was one thing he did need, however. He needed to focus and draw up the power he knew Izar possessed.
After all, there was a reason Izar was magic-sensitive. Cygnus had made it so Izar's magic was unique enough to touch the Veil and harbor his spirit. As a consequence, he decided to tweak the carrier's magic even more to make it work in his advantage. Izar was magic-sensitive, and because of that, he also had the ability to cut off someone's core.
Cygnus had developed the ability out of selfish means. He wanted a body that had power, uncharacteristic power. Luckily, Izar hadn't understood that his magic-sensitivity was the key to a greater power. The boy was clueless.
But he wouldn't be for long.
He focused on Regulus' pulsating magic before he threw out his hand and reached toward his descendant. With focused determination, Cygnus concentrated on squeezing the man's core. The waves of Regulus' aura seemed to pulsate like a beating heart and Cygnus had the eyes to see where he could cut it off, to snuff it. As his fingers closed around the invisible core, Cygnus found the trigger in Regulus' aura and promptly closed the magic.
The man's attractive face contorted in horror as he dropped to his knees. His wand clattered uselessly to the floor, no longer a tool to his revenge. Cygnus stared at the scene before him with rapt fascination. It must be painful both physically and emotionally for a wizard to lose their magic. It rendered the wizard helpless and utterly vulnerable.
For a just a moment, Cygnus stepped back and admired the consequences of his gift. It truly was a beautiful sight. Tremors shook across Regulus' body and the glow around him diffused, shading him in darkness. The man appeared older than he was as heavy lines framed his expression and the usually gleam to his eyes smothered out.
While it was a moving sight, it was also amusing to him. Wizards couldn't feel their own magic until it was gone. They were so in tune with their core, so in sync with it, that it was second-nature to them. Their magic was the rhythm to their pulse, the consistency to their breaths, and the grace to their movements… the magic was everywhere. When it was taken so suddenly from them, they realized a large part of themselves was lost. They no longer had that magic that made them feel alive and invincible. They would need to struggle to breathe on their own and they would no longer feel that surge of tantalizing righteousness when their pulse beat.
The feeling of losing magic so suddenly was likely comparable to dying. They were naked, vulnerable, and would need to adjust their body to function without the aid of their magic.
This ability made him feel like a god, and yet, there were two shortcomings to Cygnus' power.
For one thing, his victims would not die from the loss of magic. Although it would be a struggle for them to get past their defenseless stage and learn to live without magic, it would never kill them. Though, if Cygnus really wanted to kill them, he could do so easily. As his victim huddled in on himself, Cygnus could raise his wand without being stopped.
Lastly, the most tragic downside of his power was that it was not permanent. Regulus would gain his magic back when Cygnus could no longer keep focus on the core he held control of.
Cygnus snarled at that, stepping on Regulus' wand and snapping it in half with a fanatical glee. The man on the floor quickly looked past his thick hair and onto his wand. His dim eyes were wide in repulsion and he issued a pained and horrified moan. The pathetic creature rocked himself back and forth, shaking his head in denial.
Inside his mind, Cygnus kept a careful feel for Izar's reaction. The boy was oddly silent with his emotions.
And yet…
Yes, there it was.
A flicker of fascination, of shocked awe.
You were once the Master of Magic… now I have rightfully taken it back. To prove his dominance over Izar, Cygnus slashed his wand through the air, knocking Regulus unconscious with an invisible blow to the head. The man went down, his skull cracking on the stone beneath him. The vivid shade of crimson life pooled beneath Regulus' head, haloing him in a picture of perfection. Izar finally reacted to his father's attack, sending a burst of Dark magic across their mind.
Cygnus considered the action before drawing Izar's burst of magic onto himself, using it to grow stronger.
"Run, Sirius," a female voice whispered behind him.
Cygnus turned just in time to see a bolt of magic fly past his nose. His hackles rose as he zeroed in on the last Black. "Yes," Cygnus breathed. "Run while you still can."
The fool had a strong shield raised around him, probably strong enough to reflect any curse that came at him. Like the idiot he was, Sirius most likely thought it could protect him from whatever Cygnus had done to his brother.
Crouched in his practiced Auror stance, Sirius gracefully came to a stop in front of his younger brother's prone form. His face was twisted in cold resolve, but Cygnus could see the doubt and reluctance behind those charcoal eyes. It appeared as if the father was more inclined to attack his son than the uncle was his nephew.
"Are you going to attack me, Uncle Sirius?" Cygnus asked in a small voice. He could feel Izar move restlessly behind his mind shield.
"Don't let him play you, Sirius. He is no longer Izar," the woman spoke up again.
Cygnus snapped his head around, hissing at her. "Silence, Mudblood."
And that snapped order seemed to be all that was needed for Sirius to attack. But Cygnus had been ready. As soon as the Binding Curse left Sirius' wand, Cygnus reached out and closed the man's aura. Just like his brother, Sirius dropped to the floor, his pale face becoming alarming shades of blue and green. Cygnus never stopped to admire. Instead, he pushed Sirius across the pit and into the benches. Without his magic, Sirius would be lucky to survive the impact. And if to prove his speculation, the sickening yet alluring sound of bones breaking echoed across the Death Chamber.
Suddenly, Cygnus reared forward, crying out as his mind buckled. His vision darkened as the intense magic of Izar engulfed him. The boy's overwhelming presence felt like fingernails scraping and desperately climbing forward for control. Even through the pain, Cygnus admired the amount of magic the boy possessed.
It was only seconds that Izar gained control. His fingers scraped his face, effectively dropping his wand to the ground. The boy was hoping to step on it as Cygnus had done with Regulus' wand, but Cygnus soon took over once again.
As soon as he could control his new body, Cygnus moved jerkily toward the Veil. He was unable to push the boy further back, and so, they were in a constant battle. This mental battle would only be stopped once he merged completely with his soul. Through hazy eyes, he looked back at the Mudblood, daring her to stop him. Disbelievingly, she was away from him, kneeling down before Sirius and checking for a pulse. It was if she dismissed the threat that was her son and chose to protect an insignificant player in this whole game.
The Dark Lord was oddly absent as well. It was if the two of them had their own agenda...
But that was impossible. This was his game. He knew all the rules, they did not. How dare they think they could step over him?
He reached forward, brushing his fingers against the rippling Veil. The curtain was pure silk and fluid as he clenched his fingers around it. He opened his mouth, moaning as he felt the spirit inside the Veil respond to his proximity. The icy sensation curled around his fingers and stretched up his arm and around his torso. Cygnus laughed gleefully as his spirit absorbed into his skin, in his body. He was alive. Finally.
Izar seemed to shy away and Cygnus paid him no consideration. It wouldn't be long until the boy was nothing, nonexistent. Though, he was surprised Izar was still able to survive. He would have to meditate in a safe place and mentally destroy the last of Izar's spirit.
Until then, he had other things to deal with.
Removing his hand from the Veil, he glanced down at his blackened hand before looking up at the Mudblood. She was hunched near the fallen figure of Sirius, eyeing Cygnus. Her stare only confirmed Cygnus' belief that she had something up her sleeve. She looked… expectant, hopeful.
He called his wand to him nonverbally and promptly pointed it at her. He would enjoy playing with her later, but now was not the time. The increased silence from the Dark Lord was affecting Cygnus more than he had imagined it would.
She suddenly stood up. If possible, her face seemed to grow paler. "That's not possible…" she whispered. She took a large step forward, reaching out to him, but Cygnus knocked her unconscious with a nonverbal Stupefy. He turned on her, dismissing her body. This had been far too easy. Granted, it had helped that his enemies were loved ones of the body he now possessed. And it had also helped that he had the ability to control magical cores.
"I know you're there," Cygnus called out boldly, turning to his next source of entertainment.
He slowly walked up the steps, feeling the Dark Lord nearby. He could light the end of his wand and peer around like a fool, but he enjoyed this game of cat and mouse. And the Dark Lord would doubtlessly find shadows to engulf himself with even if Cygnus did cast the Lumos.
It would be pathetic of him to deny that his pulse was racing. He was confident enough to acknowledge a worthy opponent. But defeating the Dark Lord would be as simple as it was with Regulus and the other two. If he could pinpoint the vulnerable area of the Dark Lord's aura, he could squeeze the man's core and enable the man magicless.
"You don't scare me." Cygnus finally made it to the top of the pit, looking around the top-level of the Death Chamber. The lockdown was still in effect, but Cygnus believed it would be minutes before it was completed.
"And you," the voice answered back. "Aren't worthy of my time."
Cygnus turned, feeling the magic everywhere and hearing the voice from every corner of the Chamber. While he could feel the magic, he wasn't able to detect the vulnerable spot of the Dark Lord's core. The magic needed to be at its highest; it needed to be used for Cygnus to spot the weakness. At the moment, it was lying down low, just waiting.
"While I must applaud you at your attempt of immortality, I'm afraid you entered the wrong body and the wrong decade. This is my turf. He is my turf." The words had a cruel hissing pitch to them, raising the small hairs on Cygnus' arms.
He clenched his teeth together, keeping his body poised and ready to attack when the Dark Lord lunged. He was certain, that when the half-blood attacked, it would come quickly and without warning.
Licking his lips, Cygnus smiled darkly. "Possessive, hmm?"
The dark chuckle seemed to caress the tiny hairs in his ear. Cygnus turned, his wand at the ready, but no one was near. He seethed. He had never been played so dismissingly before. "Do you know what your problem is, Cygnus?" the man inquired, the voice coming from his shoulder.
Cygnus didn't bother to turn. He just kept his senses open, feeling the strong aura. He focused on the thrumming pulse of the dark magic from the Dark Lord, trying to concentrate on the waves of power. As soon as he opened his senses, he was suddenly aware of the aura coming a few feet in front of him. Cygnus obviously didn't possess the same experience in his magic-sensitivity ability that Izar had, but he was slowly understanding it.
And now that he grasped hold of his ability, he could see the Dark Lord's aura. It was a lazy mist, appearing like crushed diamonds in the sunlight. In all ways, it was beautiful.
"No…" Cygnus murmured. He looked away from the aura, trying to be discreet about his awareness. "Enlighten me." He tightened the hold of his wand, reaching out toward the aura and searching for the vulnerable point.
"The reason you won't succeed is because you're arrogant. You're blinded by your own power and fail to see what is right in front of you. You see… I already know your next step. And I have planned accordingly."
Cygnus suddenly struck out, ignoring the taunting words. He quickly grabbed hold of the Dark Lord's core and smothered the magic out completely. With a delirious laugh, Cygnus threw the Dark Lord across the upper level of the Chamber with a flick of his wand. The sound of a body hitting the floor alerted Cygnus that he had gotten the upper hand.
"Your words are insignificant," Cygnus wheezed, feeling as if he were floating from his victory. He could already taste the death of the Dark Lord on his tongue.
He lightened his wand and walked forward. As he raised the bright illumination, he finally laid eyes on the Dark Lord. He took a step back in shock when he saw what the man turned into. Not a pathetic heap on the floor like the others had been turned into but a… a…
A creature!
He had forgotten. He had…
It slipped his awareness. He hadn't known! He hadn't stopped to think… and suddenly, the man's words from before made sense.
Cygnus was aware of the complexity of the Dark Lord's core now that he was faced with the truth. While he had hold over the main part of Voldemort's core, there was another section, a smaller piece of the magical core that was dedicated to the creature side of the half-blood. If he could just close that part of the man's core, Cygnus could likely kill the Dark Lord.
But the core was far too complex for Cygnus to grasp without losing his hold on the Dark Lord's main core.
"What are you?" he breathed, eyeing the fangs and split-crimson eyes.
The unruly black hair parted as the man peered up at him. Cygnus would have declared the man a vampire if it weren't for the light brushing of black scales across the Dark Lord's neck. Vampires also had straight fangs and a waxy complexion, whereas the half-blood had porcelain features and curved fangs. Cygnus grimaced as he eyed the barely-pointed ears emerging from the head of black hair.
"Are you… are you a hybrid?"
Voldemort tapped his long fingernails on the ground, grinning sadistically. "Something like that, but not quite."
It didn't make sense. A hint of pointed ears? Scales? Fangs? Unless the man wasn't a hybrid but a—
Cygnus didn't get time to ponder on the Dark Lord's creature, for the man suddenly lunged with speed no human could hope to track. The Dark Lord was similar to a serpent with the grace and brutality of the strike. Cygnus had no time to even lift his wand, let alone form a rational thought as he was tackled by the tall form.
Strong and possessive arms curled around his waist, causing Cygnus to attempt to pull away from the physical contact. He cried out in denial as the fangs touched his neck before sinking inside. Through the sharp and unbearable pain, Cygnus realized what the Dark Lord had planned all along. He had plannedon killing Izar and rendering the boy's body undead. It would be impossible for Cygnus to inhabit a body that was lacking the correct DNA.
It had been barely a day that he had become mortal after decades of waiting on the other side of the Veil.
All at the hands of a pathetic creature. A creature! A poor excuse of a Dark Lord.
The man dropped him to the floor and Cygnus seethed, feeling the venom of the bite already make its way through his body.
If he was going to be forced from his plans of immortality, then he was going to take the boy with him.
He gazed blankly up at the observing Dark Lord, turning his mind inward.
{Death of Today}
Izar grew stiff with disbelief and horror.
The Dark Lord turned him. Izar clenched his teeth, unable to conjure up any rational contemplation. The only thing that blared across his mind was that he would be immortal and stuck as a sixteen-year-old for eternity. Granted, he had grown over the summer, but he still hadn't reached his maturity.
It seemed like a proper punishment from the Dark Lord for Izar's lapse of weakness.
Suddenly, the inside of his mind seemed to darken. Izar grew wary, feeling himself become constricted and tight. Dark shadows seeped from all corners of his mind before growing into a large cloud in front of him. The cloud then fell away, revealing a man standing across from him in the forefront of his mind.
"Cygnus," Izar spoke coolly.
Cygnus, draped in all black, stared at him with a vicious gleam in his dark eyes. The man appeared around his late-thirties with long hair tied to the nape of his neck. He had a sharp jaw line, Izar noticed, especially when he was clenching it.
"You're weak," the man whispered. "You will always be weak. With your attachments, with your feelings, and petty emotions… you can't hope to be someone of importance. Ever."
Izar lifted his chin, offering the man a cold smirk. "And yet, those attachments I formed are what saved my arse. Aren't they?" He cocked his head to the side, a stray curl falling into his face. "And you, Cygnus? What have you learned is your weakness?"
Cygnus snarled. "I have no weakness."
Izar lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Exactly."
The man's eyes widened comically before he gave a cry of outrage and lunged. His body no longer took on a form; it was only a shapeless cloud of black.
Izar's pulse leaped and he struggled to gain his footing and strength. He would meet the force head on just like he had done in the basement of Grimmauld Place. Damn the consequences, he would come out of this on top. He had already embarrassed himself enough as it is. He would never hear the end of this from Riddle.
Only, he didn't get a chance to meet the cloud. Lily came from behind him, dressed in a short white dress. Her face was set into a cool line as she stepped in front of him. No words were spoken as she lifted her chin in the face of Cygnus' assault, her red hair waving behind her like a crimson flag.
Cygnus seemed to hesitate only out of surprise before colliding with her. Izar took a step back, watching through bemused eyes as she sacrificed herself and promptly… dissolved. Her light presence that stained his normally dark mind was nowhere to be felt.
Izar squared his shoulders, swallowing as Cygnus kept charging at him. Whatever Lily had intended to do hadn't worked. He was alone.
He braced himself, gathering his mind and magic about him. Izar had no plan of action; he didn't even know if defending himself would work.
As soon as Cygnus' cold cloud came in contact with him, the spirit let out a broken scream and scattered. Izar opened his eyes wide, watching in intrigue as Cygnus seemed to be expelled away from him. The figureless cloud scattered across his mind, hitting the closed doors that Lily had shut by herself. There was one door, however, that she hadn't closed in time. Izar lunged forward, grabbing the door and slamming it shut.
And then… Cygnus was gone.
Izar stood in his mind before collapsing to his knees.
She had planned this all.
He raked his fingers through his hair, peering around his mind. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored-doors of the Department of Mysteries. Lily had known her sacrifice would leave Izar untouchable to Cygnus' attack. If Cygnus had attacked earlier, perhaps it could have prevented Voldemort from taking the issue into his own hands. Regrettably, it hadn't happened that way.
He remembered her words before, her whispered confession ringing loud in his ears.
"A mother's love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible."
Her voice seemed to echo across the emptiness of his mind. And suddenly, he felt as if he had lost something. What he had lost, he did not understand.
Izar lay slumped against the mirrored-door, knowing he had to think on the impact of her actions, but realizing now wasn't the best time. Already, his body was turning invisible and his surroundings were becoming blurred.
He finally had control of his own body.
Izar closed his eyes, only to open them and find himself on the cold, hard ground of the Death Chamber. He shivered, feeling feverish from the venom making its way through his body. He was tired of pain, of suffering. He would look forward to the days where he felt invincible again.
He gritted his teeth, catching the crimson eyes watching him.
"Welcome back, Mr. Black," Voldemort taunted.
"I hate you," Izar breathed before closing his eyes against the pain. "You know I didn't want to be a teenager forever."
"And yet, your plan of action seemed to be working very well," the man pointed out dryly. "You were a prisoner in your own body. Forgive me for saving your hide. Again."
Izar snapped his eyes opened, glowering at him. He decided to keep quite about Lily's use of a Horcrux until the time was right. Instead, he watched in a drugged-like state as the Dark Lord shook his head fluidly. Magic coated him like a second skin and his glamour went back in place. Undersecretary Riddle was back in action.
A hand reached out and cupped his cheek, stroking the tender skin along his neck. Izar didn't have the strength to pull away.
"My Lord?" a voice whispered.
Riddle removed his hand quickly from Izar's cheek and stood up. The Black heir turned weakly, spying Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorway. The blond had a hand curled around his left forearm, directly above his Dark Mark. Voldemort must have called Lucius through the Mark.
The man's pale eyes looked at Izar's huddled form. Lucius' eyes widened a fraction before Riddle stepped in front of him and blocked his view.
"I must take leave for a few days, Lucius," Riddle spoke crisply. "I trust you will be my eyes and ears?"
Izar curled in on himself, feeling his veins begin to burn. He wouldn't scream, he had been through far more painful things in his lifetime. Instead, Izar pulled himself up into a sitting position, listening for Lucius' response. The last thing Izar wanted to do was leave with the Dark Lord for an undisclosed amount of time, but it was to be expected if they wanted secrecy. Izar had read about creature transformations. They were painful and a long process to recover from. No one could see his transformation.
"But the Minister election will be—" Lucius tapered off. The sound of robes rustling indicated the blond bowed to his master's whims. "I understand." Lucius changed direction.
Izar felt foolish. Riddle should be here, available for when Rufus Scrimgeour was elected as the Minister. Instead, he would be looking after Izar.
"Good," Riddle drawled. "Below us, there are three unconscious figures. Make sure they see a Healer and make sure they do not talk. The boy's father will likely want to search for him, you will discourage him. My name and Izar's will not be mentioned in response to the events of today. They will presumably keep this to themselves, but if they do not, use any means to silence them. You may reassure them that the boy is in good health and only that. Is that clear, Lucius?"
Izar bared his teeth, throwing himself back on the ground. He wanted to crawl to the edge of the pit and look down to see the rise and fall of Sirius' and Regulus' chest. He had to make sure they were alright. But his body simply wouldn't let him do something so strenuous.
Through watery eyes, he watched as Riddle turned to look at him over his shoulder. The lights blinked back on and the distant sound of Minister Fudge's voice blared through the speakers. The lockdown was completed and Riddle would be running from the Ministry.
"Yes, Master. I understand."
"Do not disappoint me."
"Yes, My Lord."
Izar was blinking off, forcing his body to shut down in order to handle the pain. Somewhere, he was aware of his body being lifted with ease and laid against a thin chest. The soft cloth of his hood covered his face, throwing him in darkness.
