I would like to apologise for late posting. Uni work had to be prioritised sadly. The chapter isn't the best as I've not be able to sit on it for like a day and then edit any inconsistencies. I'll probably review it soon and correct any mistakes I pick up on.

Hopefully I'll give myself a bit more time for the following chapter and there should be less character introductions (thank god Ghastly is the only one with any known magical family). MORE PLOT next weekend :)
Enjoy
~Leo

Anastasia Ragnhailt was both exactly what Valkyrie expected and also not at all. She was practical minded, getting the girls settled in a cosy room quickly, pointing out all the important rooms in case they needed something. She had a gentle air about her, nothing about her manner suggesting her underlying power that Valkyrie knew she had. Valkyrie was also faced with the somewhat disconcerting fact that she looked the same age as she did, but Anastasia had a grown up son and Valkyrie was only just turning 50. She was muscled, as one would expect from a boxer, but she was shorter than Valkyrie by about a foot. Valkyrie knew she was tall for a woman, almost standing at 6ft, but she was expecting a more authoritative personality.

She didn't need to wait long to see the other side to Anastasia. The next morning, they had found her practicing boxing in front of the house with Ghastly. Valkyrie watched in awe; Ghastly, although good, was significantly outclassed.

"I can see where she gets her reputation," Livena commented.

She gave one last hook to her son's jaw, which knocked him sprawling to the ground before turning to greet the two girls with a beaming smile. "Good morning, ladies! Hope you both slept well."

"Yes, thank you Ms Ragnhailt."

"Oh, do call me Ana."

"Then you may call me Liv."

"My husband is probably in his sewing room if you want a set of combat clothes fitted," said Ana. She nudged Ghastly with the toe of her boot, causing him to grunt. "Get yourself up, dear, and go help your father with their new outfits."

"Hurt."

"That was a gentle punch!"

"We seem to have different definitions of 'gentle'."

"Maybe so," she smiled fondly at Ghastly, who was slowly beginning to pick himself off the floor. "I'll get you all some food from the communal tent so you don't miss breakfast."

"Thank you, Ana!"

"Thank you, mum."

"Thank you."

Ghastly had finally picked himself off the floor and, with a sheepish grin, bade the girl back inside. "Hope you are well this morning ladies."

"Oh yes, we slept well, didn't we Val?"

Valkyrie hadn't slept amazingly, but that wasn't unusual. But, the bed had been comfortable and she was able to sit in peace. "It's a comfortable room, thank you."

"That's good. My father works in this back room. It shouldn't take us long to get you fitted in something more protective."

He lead them into a large room that was filled to the brim with bolts of fabric organised by colour and a number of dress forms with half finished outfits hanging from them. A tall man, who once again looked barely a day older than 25, sat near the window, the light illuminating the brightly coloured cloth that he was currently working on.

"Dad, we have some new guests."

The man paused what he was doing with care and stood to greet them with a gentle smile. "Introduce me then, Ghastly."

"Miss Livena Estrange, Miss Valkyrie Cain, this is my father, Colm Darning."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"We were hoping you could make us some combat clothing for us, Mr Darning," said Valkyrie.

"Colm, please. Of course, Miss Cain. Let's get your measurements."

Everything about Colm Darning was relaxed and calm. He presence was soothing which projected tranquility across the whole room.

The Ghastly of the future had been able to just look and he could gauge anyone's fit to such precision that Valkyrie disliked having to wear her mortal clothes because they just didn't sit right. At this time, though, the pair still relied on knotted string to take their measurements. They were quick at their work and in less than ten minutes, Ghastly and Colm had adjusted the dress forms to Livena and Valkyrie's measurements and were already cutting away at some leathery looking material.

"What sort of fabric do you use, Colm?" asked Valkyrie, interested in the difference between her original Bespoke clothes and what the pair were producing here.

"It's reinforced leather. There are a few sigils that I have created to give the wearer extra protection, which I adorn into each piece of clothing. The leather outerwear I tend to reinforce with sigils that help absorb the shock of a blow, and cut resistance." He picked up a piece of the leather, pinning it to the dress from carefully. "But I can't put too much magic into one article of clothing."

"How so?"

"It would just fall apart otherwise. I tend to add additional protection into the under layers if required. But usually, the shock absorption and cut resistance is enough."

The sound of the door opening made her look up. Valkyrie had been expecting the smiling face of Ana, Instead a tall figure filled the frame, an impassive look on his face.

"Mr Pleasant," she managed to say before she ran out of words. His expression didn't change; he was almost more unreadable with a face than as a skeleton. Did he hate them? Did he just not care? She couldn't tell. The tranquil atmosphere was completely obliterated for Valkyrie with Skulduggery's sudden appearance and she had to fight the urge to flee the room.

"Miss Cain, Miss Estrange. Glad to see you have settled in." He gave them a respectful nod, but then he abruptly turned his attention to Ghastly and Colm before either of the girls could respond. "I'm in need of a new shirt. I'm afraid the last one got somewhat shredded in the last mission."

"Oh yes," said Ghastly. "We'll have one ready this afternoon."

"Thank you," and he was gone almost as suddenly as he had appeared.

"A man of few words," said Colm with a quiet chuckle.

Ana appeared not long after with porridge, inviting the girls into the dining room to eat. Valkyrie ate slowly whilst Livena made conversation with Ana. She paid them little attention, her mind thinking about the human Skulduggery. He was certainly a far cry from the suave skeleton that she knew, but this was a Skulduggery from before the death of his family, before his own death. She knew he had gone insane when he had returned from the grave, a completely reasonable reaction to all he had suffered in her opinion. This Skulduggery seemed different again, serious and unconcerned about the affairs of anything that didn't entail a mission or the Resistance in general. He was the closest thing in this time to her reality, but he was a different man. She wanted nothing more than to befriend him again, but she wasn't a naive twelve year old, and he wasn't a snarky four hundred year old skeleton.