Yuanfen
By 7th Librarian and Mei1105

Day 2: Lunch Rush

"This?"

"No no no, she's stacked like a top shelf casket of whiskey - that will only make it worse!" Running her fingers along the rack of clothes, Mai hummed like she was psychically trying to detect water. From behind the fitting room curtain in the corner, Fran could hear Resonae hmph!-ing at herself in the mirror - the noise was starting to become more familiar to her than her own heartbeat.

She had to give Mai credit, she hadn't wasted any time. She hadn't even so much as flicked an eye over Resonae's new body - something that had induced a lot of hmph!-ing - instead dragging them away from the statue and down several streets. In the back of her head, Fran had expected something glamorous from the icon who had spent most of her twenties as one of the most famous women in the world. So she was surprised when Mai had instead dragged them into a modest vintage resale store. The clerk's jaw had dropped at the sight of the statuesque woman in tiny clothing, before Mai had ushered her back behind the till, insisting 'I got this, hun'.

Truthfully it was the most animated that Fran had seen the woman since meeting her. She'd spent the weeks at Dracula's castle mostly on her own, and when she had been in Mai's presence the other woman had looked terrible. Nobody had said anything, but Fran wasn't stupid - whatever Mai was coming off was determined to take her soul with it. Even in the last twenty four hours, she hadn't seemed much better. For the first time, some semblance of life had finally appeared. But Fran had a sinking feeling that it was fleeting - a flicker trying desperately to light a wasteland.

"Ah!" Plunging her hand into the depths of the rail, Mai withdrew it, clutching a new shirt. "Let's try this - fit'n'flare will hug those curves, and help secure the assets. How are the pants, Resonae?"

"Intimate!" the horse huffed, from behind the curtain. "The last thing that pressed against my thighs like this was that circus stallion in Vegas! Why do you humans do this to yourselves?"

"Usually for warmth!" Fran rolled her eyes. She wouldn't expect the Nightmare to understand - between flames, coat and body mass, Nightmares barely felt the cold unless you chained them to the north pole and left them there.

"And support of the assets - very important," nodding, Mai flung the new shirt over the top of the curtain. "Which I could give you if you'd just let me measure you for a bra-"

"I am not wearing one of those! It looks like a bearing rein for my chest!" Resonae huffed. "And I only need serviceable clothing! We are supposed to be looking for Mistress!"

Fran couldn't help but grin as the poor clerk's eyes got big again upon hearing those words. "It's a tiny island, and people can't get off it - we'll find her." She wanted to say more - some of Mai's spark had dimmed at the mention of Serenity - but openly speaking of their friend as kidnapped would only raise the clerk's alarm even further. So she swiftly seized a mask from the costume display nearby. "Here - I'm making you look cool!"

"Hmph! You cannot add to perfection, Maiden!" Resonae declared, but the mask disappeared through the curtain anyway.

Fran shook her head. "How does anyone have that level of confidence?"

"She's a horse," Mai pointed out, picking up a pair of heels from a nearby shelf and examining the brand label inside. "It's not like they have the same pressures female humans do. No one's ever told her to cover up, or make herself look pretty, or God forbid smile."

Fran had heard each of those things more than once, and the fresh words of Jace not an hour ago only made her scowl deeper. "Men are pigs," she grumbled, fiddling with a row of blouses. "Especially duelists. That's why I always thought you were the coolest of the golden age growing up."

She blushed as she realised that this wasn't like comparing favourite duelists among her school peers - she was actually talking to the icon herself. Mai for her part seemed taken aback, the shoes in her hand forgotten, as her eyes searched Fran for any hint of deceit or trickery.

"You're just saying that because I was the only woman."

That was true, Fran conceded privately. The only other female duelist of note from the golden age was Rebecca Hawkins, and she had definitely been a child, not a woman. "Well yeah, but that's not why I thought you were the coolest. You just waltzed into this male-dominated game and started kicking ass. You never let anyone doubt that you had a right to be there."

Now it was Mai's turn to blush uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around, clearly looking to see if anyone else had heard, and Fran wondered how long it had been since anyone had complimented her in earnest. "Well, it was easy money and winnings - at least until Yugi and Joey came along."

"What about Kaiba?"

"What about Kaiba?" Now Mai scoffed, a spark of challenge suddenly lighting her eye. "If you didn't have star-shaped hair, he didn't even give you the time of day. Makes the win I got off him sweeter…"

"Wait -" Fran looked up from the row of vintage shirts, jaw dropping. "You beat Kaiba? Seto Kaiba? The guy who had the rarest cards in the world and was World Champion and Intercontinental Champion at the same time?"

The discomfort returned, and Mai put the shoes back, moving in to admire a green leather jacket on one of the mannequins instead. "Well, I did beat him before he got that second tile and it wasn't a major tournament - wasn't even one of the ones he set up to fight Yugi again - I mean, there's a reason it's not in history books-"

"Yeah, because Kaiba's ego wouldn't be able to handle it!" Fran gushed and she was leaning over the clothes rail separating them, ready to face-plan into shirts as she got closer to Mai. "Tell me where it was! When? Did you beat all his dragons?"

"You are a slayer of dragons?" the curtain twitched back and Resonae's face appeared...or at least, Fran thought it was Resonae's face. It was hard to tell behind the domino mask now affixed over her eyes. Mai took an awkward step back.

"I didn't beat all his dragons - he never drew the third. And I just got lucky with the first two - if I hadn't drawn Phoenix Formation when I did-"

Fran couldn't help it - a little squeak of amazement broke free from her.

"Impressive," Resonae gave a satisfied nod. "Master will be pleased that we have a dragon slayer in this herd."

Mai looked as though she wanted to bolt from the shop, and Fran reigned her enthusiasm in as guilt began to emerge. She probably doesn't feel like a dragon slayer. It was decades ago and so much has changed…

"Resonae, just put these on so we can spend Lyrius's money and leave," plucking a pair of low-heeled black ankle boots off the shelf, Mai threw them at the Nightmare.

"Human horseshoes?" Resonae snorted. "They add unnecessary weight and noise. I cannot stalk my enemies through the streets with these clopping beneath my hooves."

"Tough luck," Mai folded her arms. "You can't lecture Fran on the importance of a low profile and then walk around a city barefoot. Take your own advice."

She turned to face Fran. "You should buy yourself something too - she's ruined your spare outfit. Better get something to replace it."

She was right - Resonae had left rips in her jeans that no seamstress in the world would be able to repair, and her shirt was a total write off too. But buying new clothes was a luxury she had rarely been able to afford in the last few years, and she gulped as the racks around her seemed to grow and turn into a forest around her. "Umm...okay, but I didn't bring much money with me-"

"Don't be daft," Mai shrugged. "I told you, Lyrius is paying...or rather, his dead wife is."

"Wait...what?" Of all the things Fran had expected Mai to reply with, a casual mention of Iris hadn't factored in. "But...she's dead."

She knew it was a stupid thing to say, particularly as Mai had just said it, but she wasn't sure how else to express her confusion.

"So? Dead people still have money. And she had loads. These last few weeks, Dracula had me tracking down and closing off all of Chance's financial access, just to give me something to occupy my time," Mai folded her arms, and Fran could see her thumb unconsciously stroking the crook. "Anyway, while I was looking at historical transactions in and out of Arcadia, I also found an offshore account belonging to one Mrs Iris Stormcloud...under a pseudonym of course. But I used that as a starting point, and kept finding more - accounts, property, shares in companies. Iris had a global portfolio of about fifty million US dollars. And it's still climbing."

Fran knew her jaw had fallen open, but she lacked the sense to close it. She couldn't even imagine what fifty million dollars looked like. It was one of those insane figures that you attached to the height of capitalism. Damn...if I had fifty million bucks I could buy every piece of Benedit farmland back off the Abners and erect a giant middle finger statue in the center of it!

"So buy as many new pairs of jeans as you want," Mai continued with a shrug at the store around them. "Hell, buy a cocktail dress - I doubt Lyrius will care. He doesn't even know how much there is."

Fran's fantasies of one upping her relatives came screeching to a halt. "He doesn't?"

"He was pretty bummed when I told him about the accounts," Mai admitted. "I don't think Iris ever told him she had overseas investments. He just asked me to keep looking and then he slunk off to brood in a corner somewhere."

Her gaze went back to the green leather jacket, and Fran ran a finger down the rack of t-shirts, her mind turning over this new information.

It was no surprise that Iris had kept secrets. It came with being a monarch, along with crowns and a dysfunctional family. But keeping secrets from Lyrius? Her husband? That had to be painful. Her memories of her own parents' marriage were tinged by sadness and the confusion of only being eight at the time of their separation, but she knew they had never had secrets from each other.

But then again, it's not like I was honest with Andy all the time...or myself for that matter.

Thinking about Andy just made her anxious, and she picked up a pair of blue jeans that purported to be in her size, and told herself not to look at the price.

"Oh my God...you were right, that's totally her!"

The whisper wasn't subtle, and Fran's attention tore immediately from the jeans and up to a row of summer dresses by the right wall. A group of three girls were clustered around one end, not even pretending to be looking at the wares. For a wild moment, Fran wondered if they were talking about Mai, but the way one of them gasped as her eyes locked on them crushed that immediately. Oh god, kill me...

"Can I help you three with something?" she asked, desperately hoping that they would be so embarrassed at being caught staring that they might just leave.

Instead they all just squeaked again like startled mice.

"Oh wow! You're Francesca Benedict!" The nearest one was human and couldn't have been older than fifteen. "They taught us about you in school! You're so cool!"

A wave of embarrassment crashed over Fran, and the jeans were suddenly soaking up sweat from her palms. It's like Independence Day all over again… "Uhh thanks…"

"No, thank you," the first girl said. "We all grew up with the Shadow Queen and we remember how scared everyone was. You saved us from that!"

Her friends - both elves if Fran's eyes weren't deceiving her - both nodded in agreement, but Fran could see the tallest one eyeing her with equal parts fascination and horror. It took her only a moment to realise that she was looking at her face, and she instinctively reached to touch her eyepatch.

They're just a few teenagers - you don't care what they think...But she could see the question hovering there, and she wanted desperately to run away from it. "You're welcome…"

"This is so weird!" the middle girl said, shaking her head. "We don't get many visitors to the island, so usually the King and other Spawn announce when we're getting celebrities - they made a big deal the last time you visited. But I didn't hear anything this time."

Panic raced through Fran like wildfire. "This isn't an official visit. I'm just here on my own." Damn it, Resonae was right. Now that everyone saw me in the square they're going to start tracking me down wherever I go!

She caught Mai moving out of the corner of her eye as her attention drifted to the conversation, and she felt her stomach wither as she realised that she had been fangirling in the exact same way over her not five minutes ago. Desperate to move the conversation along, she cast around for a topic. "How has everything been since the last time I was here? Peaceful?"

All three of them nodded.

"Oh yeah. No one's blown up the harbour since the tournament."

Fran remembered the damage done by Maria and her pirate ship and winced at the memory. "That's good. Did they fix all the damage?"

"Oh no, not yet," the middle girl shook her head. "Those houses are still a mess. But the square has been redone and they put that new fountain in. So that's kinda cool."

It didn't sound cool to Fran - it sounded stupid. Having a roof over your head is more important than a pretty fountain… "But everyone is happier, right?"

"Pretty much," the tallest girl nodded. "They started relaxing the internet around the island so we can do more stuff online. And people aren't afraid to go outside after dark any more. Well...unless its satyr breeding season."

Fran scowled. "Yeah I got a taste of that earlier…"

"We heard," the first girl smiled. "Someone in our school sent a video around on WhatsApp. That's how we knew where to look. You took that guy down hard! It was amazing!"

"We all duel," the middle girl said. "It's huge in our school. Everyone wants to be just like you and the other heroes."

She'd heard those words before - over and over again at Arcadian Independence Day - but today, she found she couldn't stand them. I am so sick of being a hero…

"If you want to be heroes, you know what the best thing you can do is?" she leaned against the clothes rail, seeing all three of their faces light up. So full of hope and anticipation. They have no idea how much heartache and failure is in their future…

"Become a doctor, so you can heal people. Become a chef so you can feed people. Become a builder so you can fix up those damaged houses and give people a place to sleep. Be something that helps people every day, not just once." She squeezed the jeans, still clasped in her hand. "That'll make you more of a hero than me."

A long silence filled the room. Fran could hear every breath in her chest, as the girls stared at her surprised and a little awestruck. She could see Mai taking a cautious step closer to the scene, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the teenagers. Please listen to me. Don't fuck your lives up like we did…

"I...guess that's true…" the middle girl was the first to break the silence. "I never thought about after school...Arcadia doesn't have universities and its pretty hard to get a permit to go overseas…"

"I was thinking about being a teacher," the tallest girl said thoughtfully. "Making sure kids have better schooling than we did before the tournament."

"That's heroic," Fran said, hope sparking in her chest. "You'd be changing kids lives."

"I do like food…" the first girl said. "Maybe I could be a baker. Make sure people who are homeless or tight with money always have something to eat..." She beamed at Fran. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," and this time she really meant it. Relief washed over Fran like a cooling balm. If I do nothing else on this mission at least I might have got through to these girls… Seeing Mai tilt her head at her curiously, she cleared her throat. "It was really good to meet you guys...I'd better get back to my friends though."

"Yeah, we should probably get on with our shopping." The tallest girl agreed. "I need to get home before the blackout starts."

"Blackout?" Fran was alarmed.

"Maha lives in Petalburg," the middle girl explained. "They have blackouts every Thursday and Saturday evenings."

"Electricity is a bit spotty in the north east of the island," the tall girl, Maha, continued. "So we get our power cut two nights a week - saves the juice." She shrugged as though it was no big deal.

Fran let them go with a wave, while inside her stomach was a nervous mess. No repairs done. Satyrs making the streets unsafe. Rolling blackouts...Arcadia didn't sound better. Sure people might have been less afraid, but what was left in its place?

This isn't right...it's been five years. Things should be all better…

A frown crossed her face as another memory floated across her mind - she and Andy in New Orleans a year ago on a job. She had never visited the city before. It had been years since Hurricane Katrina, and she had naively assumed that after so long everything would have been fixed by now. She had been shocked to see how much devastation still remained. You think everything will be fine...but just because humans can do something doesn't mean that they will…

"You okay?" Mai's voice was quiet as she approached, and Fran drew a long, heavy breath.

"Yeah...I'm fine," it didn't sound convincing, but she couldn't even begin to explain everything that was going around in her head. Instead she just grabbed two t-shirts off the rack that didn't look too offensive, and added them to the jeans. "Let's just pay and get out of here."

"She lies," Resonae, still masked, had poked her head out of the curtain. "Speak your feelings, Maiden, less they become poison in your mind."

Fran pulled a face. "No one asked you to eavesdrop, Resonae. Now take that mask off and get dressed so we can leave."

"I will not! I look fearsome! I am the night!"

Fran heard Mai facepalm, and she felt her exasperation rise. "Seriously? You complain about bras and shoes but you're keeping the mask?"

"I'm bathorse!"

OOO

Serenity had learned a lot about herself in the last few hours. Saslae had clearly been studying vampires for a while, because she'd set the starting weights to three hundred. Serenity had protested - even at her prime, she'd only be able to lift about ninety pounds. And that had been after her JSDF training.

But Saslae had insisted and to her surprise, Serenity hadn't even found the new weight challenging. She could feel it, but there was no strain. It wasn't until they had hit a little over four hundred pounds that she'd had to really exert herself. And five hundred actually made her feel tired, but she'd pulled through a lot of reps.

Her flexibility had increased - the yoga stretches had been doable, but still hurt a bit thanks to the muscles not used to moving that way. But pulling off a full-splits had been amazing - she'd never been able to do that, even as a teen.

And the surprises were still coming. Serenity could hear a literal pin drop on a hard surface and smell a single drop of blood from across the room if she was blindfolded. She was capable of jumping more than ten feet from standing and could clamber across walls with her claws like Spider-Man.

And there was still more.

"You can stop running now." Saslae said as she reached over and turned down the treadmill down to a walking pace. "How do you feel?"

"Good." Serenity said and she meant it. "How long was I running?"

"For about forty minutes. You made it about…" The drow checked her chart. "Almost one hundred kilometers."

"That's amazing!" Serenity couldn't help her excitement. "I only now feel tired! And humans peak at forty-five kilometers an hour!" She ran her hands up her arms. "I'm not even sweating!"

"Vampires are undead, you don't need to cool down a body that's functions can't overheat anymore." Saslae pointed out. She passed Serenity a blood pouch and a straw. "Here. Vampires may not feel hunger like a human does, but you did just burn through some resources."

"Thank you." Serenity stepped off the treadmill and wondered how systematic Chance had made his whole operation that he could have blood around like Capri-Sun. Then her hunger tugged at her and she was jamming the straw into the pouch. "Where do you get this? Or do I not want to know?"

"You don't." Sasale said with a shake of her head.

"Moving on, then. So what's the verdict?" Serenity did a bicep curl. "How superhuman am I?"

"You're almost super-vampire." Saslae informed her. "Most vampires can lift about three hundred pounds and they aren't as flexible as you are. And their stamina isn't quite like yours - they'd be starving after running a hundred kilometers."

Serenity sucked down some more blood thoughtfully. "So vampires aren't instant-gods like Castiel says. Are there outside factors when they're turned, like age and health and physical fitness?"

"To a point, yes. The younger and healthier a vampire turned, the greater their increase in strength and speed and so on. An elderly person will still be stronger and faster than most humans, but not as stronger as a younger person who was turned." Saslae was flipping through her tablet's notes. "Given how you outpace nearly every vampire I've encountered, I'd say your superiority comes from that necklace you have."

Serenity felt the necklace cold around her neck and touched the teardrop ruby. "That makes sense. The previous owner buried this thing in all kinds of spells. Stat enhancement doesn't surprise me. I mean, she has spells on her to keep my hair from being frizzy and my teeth are always clean."

"Lucky you. Dental hygiene is something most young vampires ignore and getting fang rot is painful and embarrassing for them." Saslae noted.

"So have you figured out why vampires get all this extra stuff?" Serenity asked.

"Better minds than mine have tried over the centuries and failed, so I doubt I'll find anything new. But I have determined that the biggest advantage a vampire has over humans is the fact their stamina is so much higher. Humans are some of the world's best persistence predators and vampires just seem to take all that to eleven."

Serenity remembered how Dracula's body had knitted itself back together right before her eyes on the boat to Vegas. "It's not just the stamina. Everything in vampire bodies is boosted like it's on steroids. Stamina. Cellular regrowth. It's like the metabolism is working overtime. What I'm curious about is how it can sustain that - energy in normal humans comes from food. What makes blood so special that it can power a body like this? Or is it just magic that powers it? And if so, what would happen if you could sever a vampire from magic?"

"Vampires, oddly, can function just like a normal human would in an anti-magic field or a deadzone. They lose their abilities like transformation or mind altering, but retain speed, strength and functionality. I do not know why. As to your other questions…" Saslae shrugged. "There is no scientific explanation as to how blood powers a body like that. Magic, either. I'd argue a vampire's whole existence qualifies a 'miracle'."

"I'm sure someone out there expects me, as a doctor, to argue against their existence but I've seen people survive the insane and the impossible and now magic is a thing, so that's as likely a good explanation as any." Serenity admitted with a little laugh. But her professional interest returned as she regarded the weights they'd gone through. They were still set to five hundred. "If being a vampire puts you in some kind of weird limbo, is it possible to build muscle or fat? Or to lose it?"

"Vampires can build muscle, but the gains they get from that are negligible. If you see a buff vampire, they're just feeding their egos. And a vampire who is built like a twig is just as capable of breaking bones."

"What about old injuries? Like scars? Or diseases? Cancer? And why can't vampires heal some wounds no matter how much blood they ingest?" Serenity asked.

"Wondering why Castiel can't heal his face?" Saslae asked pointedly and just continued as Serenity started in surprise. "He's been around a few times asking about it himself. I've been studying him. But from what I've gathered, whatever inflicted the damage to him cursed him. Nothing is going to heal him, magical or otherwise." She looked thoughtful. "I'd like to get my hands on what did that damage to him - it's not like anything I've seen, being able to do that to a vampire."

Serenity was about to explain that she'd been the one to do it to him, that she'd tapped into the power of her necklace and blasted off half his face, but then stopped. Saslae is good to talk to and I want to think she's a decent person and can help me...but she's working for Chance. And anything I tell her could wind up in his ears. The less she learns about the little things, the better.

Saslae seemed to be done for the moment, as she checked the time and then stowed the tablet away in her coat. "That's enough for today. You should probably enjoy what free time you can get before someone around here finds a job for you to do. Can you give me a hand cleaning up the place?"

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do." And Serenity realized with a sad pang, she didn't. If Castiel wasn't making her hunt and stalk things or she wasn't busy trading barbs with anyone, her time was spent brooding and feeling upset. I need to do something else. Maybe pick up meditation again.

The two women worked quickly, separating all the tools that had been used from those that hadn't. Serenity began rinsing everything that needed it before handing it off to Saslae to be sterilised in the autoclave (how she had managed to bring so much heavy equipment was a question Serenity was going to have to ask another time). It reminded her of being in medical school, doing lab time, which when you were a student, boiled down mostly to cleaning things for the researchers.

"Why do you have all this interest in vampires?" Serenity asked as she fetched disinfectant and cloths for the exercise equipment.

"There's an unspoken 'and how did a nice woman like you wind up with a drug-dealing slaver like Chance' in there." Saslae said knowingly and gave Serenity a sharp grin when the other woman looked sheepish. "It's okay - it's the question most people ask when they meet me."

The drow continued as she set the cycle on the autoclave and let it begin to steam. "When I was younger, my clan of drow was small. But like all the rest, it was all about power and who had the most, who could steal the biggest piece. There was a priestess - Kythra. She was old, old enough to be wrinkled and slow. But she was cunning and ruthless and had kept her position for centuries in a society where any physical weakness is exploited instantly. I used to buy into the theory that she never slept...and the one that said she made a point of 'culling' the clan every so often to force them to depend on her."

Serenity didn't know much about drow, but she didn't like how everything she was hearing sounded just like those RPG games Yugi would get them all to play. It was one thing to see it as a fictional race, another to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"And then, one day, there was a new priestess. Maybe Lloth wanted a stronger face for her power, maybe Kythra's scheming backfired. But Kythra was gone and this new priestess - Almana- was in charge. The clan flourished - or at least, we didn't waste time killing each other so much and life got better. Less tense." Saslae said reminiscently. "And then...Kythra came back."

"As a vampire." Serenity said, knowing where this was going.

"Yep. This woman, more than seven hundred years old, nothing but skin and bones and missing all her magic, ripped through the entire clan in a single night. Drinking, killing, smashing weapons and armor and spells with nothing but brute strength and speed. By the time she set the place on fire, I was already running away. I don't know how many of us survived - it couldn't have been more than a dozen."

"But that made me curious. Made me wonder how Kythra had gotten so much power so easily. And so I started looking into vampires. I met a few, studied some more, but science just wasn't advanced enough. The words, the terminology - it didn't exist to help frame what I was learning. And the war happened and they were driven to near extinction and I had nothing to work with." Saslae said. "Then I found them again. More than a few vampires had taken me as a prize or a pet or a bedwarmer. But I made myself useful - I knew things, I could treat their wounds caused by holy water or divine weapons. I even made a blood substitute - it tastes terrible, but it works as a stop-gap. I even did psychology, though it wasn't invented at the time. Helping newborns cope with the changes, normalizing it so it so they adapted faster."

"If you did, why I haven't met you until now?" Some part of Serenity was sure she didn't want an answer to the question, the rest of her was too professionally curious.

"Castiel watches you like a hawk. And most newborns were strung-out junkies, scared, desperate or fed fantasies. They need help reigning in their egos and recklessness, the power is intoxicating. You never seemed to have that issue." Saslae said with an offhand shrug. "To be frank, you act like you were born for this, that being a predator is your natural place in life."

Serenity balked at that, but kept it quiet. She really didn't like that answer. Both because it seemed to slot a little too neatly into Castiel's insistence that she was just like him. And because there was a part of her that realized she hadn't ever actually questioned or struggled with being a vampire yet - only why, how and who she had been turned in the first place.

But there was time to ruminate on that later, she needed to learn more about Saslae. "And Chance. How did you encounter him?"

"I was an independent researcher at the time, just having gone through medical school for the sixth time and gotten a grant into drug research. It was a bit shady, but I hadn't graduated because the school had kicked me out for not having provable birth records and I needed money. Turns out Chance was funding it, trying to figure out how to mitigate the side-effects of drugs so junkies could live longer and spend more. But I didn't find out until I made a breakthrough in treatment...and he showed up the next day." Saslae said. "He gave me more money, more resources and so on. And when I learned he was a vampire, months later after a second breakthrough, I explained my interest in them and what I was doing. And he took me into his personal 'staff' after that."

"He made you a vampire."

Saslae lifted her lips in a false grin, revealing no fangs. "No, no exactly. I'm his Renfeld, his servant. He can't make me a vampire. No - don't ask me now, it's a topic for later," The drow said curtly as Serenity opened her mouth. "But spawn or Renfeld, I'm one of his pearls now. Threaded on the string of his will."

"I'm so sorry, Saslae." Serenity couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Don't be. I wound up in this mess through my own choices. And as sad as it is to say, I'm thankful to continue my work." Saslae shook her head. "I could have so easily become another of his pieces of flesh to sell off to the highest bidder. It's only because of my mind that I'm safe."

Serenity considered this. Fushioh had told her to think about what she could do in her situation. Now Saslae was telling her that her mind was the key to her survival. She could feel her step-brother's command, pressing into the back of her brain every minute of the day and night, but she had already proven to herself that she could think around it when she'd stolen Oblivion. Was her mind - her ability to think - the key to getting herself out of this mess?

What can my mind do? What skills do I have that will help me here? That was easy - she was sixty five and knew her own strengths. Study. Precision. Patience. All the things that made an efficient doctor. I was just thinking that I have time. Maybe it's time I learned a new skill. Castiel won't object if it's something that could make me stronger. I just need to teach myself something useful.

And feeling her new hair accessory sitting inconspicuously on her head, she knew just who to ask.

OOO

"You draw well."

Dracula gave him a low smile at the compliment. "Why thank you Lyrius. Being stuck indoors for half a day for centuries gives me many time to practice a lot of skills." She gave the very detailed map of Arcadia sprawling over their table a frown. "My divination is not one of them, it seems."

"We are making progress. And these Duel Dragons are unique and possibly not even from this world, if they came with Arcadia itself." Lyrius assured her. He was sitting opposite her, watching her work. "And as you have said, it is not a satellite tracker, it is radar."

"We might have better luck with radar." Dracula held a single crystal on a string above the map. In the center of it were a small handful of black stones. She concentrated and one of the stones began to twitch, sliding off the pile and heading towards Rogueport. But it stopped halfway and seemed to wobble between start and end goal before ceasing to move. "Damnation, this is so much harder without a third point to connect to!"

"We only have three dragons between us." Lyrius pointed at the white stone on Keelhaul Key that represented them. "If I could unlock more or locate more, we might be able to send out a stronger ping. The island is unplottable and unscryable since before Iris and I moved in. There might just not be enough strength to punch through it."

"I am Dracula, my songbird. And I am not going to be denied this." Dracula said firmly and fixed her ruby gaze on the stone on the string, chanting to herself again.

"I smell no fornicating - we are safe to enter!"

"...good to know, Resonae."

"I'm not Resonae - I'm bathorse!"

Lyrius had a second to smile as Dracula's concentration was broken before the door to the room opened and Mai and Fran slipped into it. Behind them, herding them forwards, was Resonae, dressed in all black, with a domino mask firmly over her face.

"...should I even ask?" he enquired, waving a hand at his mount. Both blondes shook their heads, unloading bags into the nearest chair.

"We have more pressing concerns than how magnificent I look, Master." Reaching behind her, Resonae plucked Fran by the back of her jacket and deposited her in front of him. "Please tell him what you did."

"I got hit on by this creep of a satyr, and I challenged him to a duel to get him off my back. He got angry when he lost. We might have attracted a little bit of attention-" Fran let out a little squeak - Resonae was apparently squeezing her neck. "Okay a lot of attention! And I may have insulted him to the point he threatened to get his buddies and come back!"

"You left out the part where he made you as the fabled Unicorn Maiden and announced your presence to about fifty onlookers in the middle of the square." Resonae gave her a pointed look.

"Francesca, do you realize that our mission is 'covert', yes?" Lyrius saw her look up at him in surprise at his usual calm, measured tones. She had clearly expected a chewing out. "That it hinges upon us not revealing we are here and you were brought along as a safeguard against that happening? And not to cause it?"

Fran couldn't meet his gaze, just looking at the floor. He'd half expected her to argue or get defensive, but she wasn't a teenager anymore. She was adult enough to know she'd messed up, possibly even more so than most given how she'd spent her last five years risking life and limb. Mistakes had consequences. "I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"Your screw-up, Francesca, is not fixed with an apology. You have put us all in great danger." Lyrius let his tone sharpen just enough to make her look up at him. "The Shadow Spawn are powerful alone, more so together and if they learn I am here, all six of them will come for us. Not to mention every single person who has suffered under the Shadow Queen. And if you are here, then Castiel may assume I or Dracula are also present. He could hide with Serenity or even flee the island and then we would have no leads. Your 'sorry' does not stop gossip!"

Fran just stared down at the floor. He could see her fingers curling in frustration and anger, but he knew it was directed at herself and not him. He'd been in this spot so many times - with students, with soldiers, with Lyrissa. The one others answered to. He let the silence between them thicken just enough to make her truly feel the weight of what she'd done and his displeasure before breaking it - the look Resonae was giving him told him Fran had had enough lectures today.

"That being said, this is an event I made preparations for." Lyrius held out his hand and felt Dracula slip a pair of vials into his hand. Fran lifted her head and he held them out to her. "Between make-up and these potions that will change your eye and hair color, we should be able to hide your presence. Even with the eyepatch."

With only a slight hesitation and a more forceful nod, Fran grabbed the two vials. Pulling the stoppers off, she downed them and shudder involuntarily at the taste. Lyrius didn't envy her that; he'd taken enough potions to know most of the ones that had the best effects had the worst tastes. And the effects of these were instantly noticeable. In the space of a few blinks, her blue eye had become green while her blonde hair darkened until it was as red as Serenity's was.

"Good. Before you go out again, we will need to redo your hairstyle and apply make-up to finish alterations." Lyrius got another nod in response, but he had been expecting that; Fran looked to be in no mood to talk. Instead she turned and headed for her room, the door closing hard behind her.

"...an auspicious start to our mission," Dracula drawled, her gaze falling back to the map. "We all nearly die upon our arrival, have no clue about our target's location and now the island is aware of our presence."

"First rule of planning - no plan survives contact with the enemy," Lyrius informed her as she started to drift her pendant over the map. "And regardless of any changes we have to make, we will succeed."

"I will have greater success if I could get some privacy. The tension in here is going to take a knife to cut." Dracula said pointedly and gestured idly to a nearby camp kit. "There - make-up kit and hairdressing supplies."

Lyrius examined the box, noting the high-quality make-up and other items neatly tucked inside. "You brought this on a stealth mission?"

"Sometimes, my songbird, the best place to hide is in plain sight." Dracula made a shooing gesture. "Go, talk to the Maiden and make her not herself. I will find Serenity."

"I shall guard the stairs, Master," Resonae put in. "If our enemies learn of our presence, we must be ready for them."

Nodding, Lyrius snapped the case shut and started towards the door Fran had barged through a few moments ago. "Alert me if anyone approaches."

"Don't be too hard on her," Mai's interjection was a surprise to Lyrius - she had barely said two words to him since they had arrived on the island, and he stared at her. She sat on a chair in the corner of the room, her gaze stuck determinedly to the window. "From what she and the pony said, she didn't do anything except what she was told to do from the moment she hit puberty - defend herself."

Lyrius waited, but Mai didn't seem to have anything else to say and from the reflection he could see in the glass, she wasn't expecting him to say anything, either. He just nodded firmly and headed for the door.

The inn was clean and cosy, with a corridor that was only really wide enough for two people. Fran and Mai's room was across the hall, and Lyrius felt a surge of the same discomfort he had felt the previous day when he had approached the farm. I almost wish she would lash out at me - I'd know how to respond to that…

Steeling himself he knocked on the door. He was not oblivious to the heavy sigh from inside the room before the lock turned and Fran appeared, looking resigned. She had a hairbrush in one hand and an elastic in the other.

"Yes Lyrius?"

"I would like to offer my help with your make-up and hair. I can make you look more like a native Arcadian and Dracula's choice in make-up is a bit more magical when it comes to not looking like yourself than your standard kind." Lyrius said, holding the case aloft. "To let you know that there are no hard feelings about today from me."

Fran seemed to be finding the most polite way to phrase her next question. "...okay. I appreciate the offer Lyrius...but you understand I'm a little...curious and wary as to your credentials. I've been doing my own hair for over ten years, and my own make up for about seven. Do you have a side career as a drag queen that none of us know about?"

"Dracula knows about it." Lyrius said bluntly and had the delight in Fran's expression drop into proper shock and confusion. "I have been cross-dressing for many, many years as part of my work as Queen's Shadow. If we ever run into my ex-boyfriend, he will be very happy to pull out his photo album."

Fran opened and closed her jaw a few times before shaking her head. "Wow...okay, so much to unpack...you'd better come in." She stepped aside to allow him entry.

"Thank you. I promise not to disappoint." Lyrius swept inside and shut the door. He set the case on the dresser and grabbed the room's other chair to seat himself. "You do look very nice as a redhead. That alone would be sufficient in most cases, but your eyepatch is very distinguishing, so I feel the best route is to spruce up your face a bit to divert attention from that."

He saw Fran's hand dart to the patch, a frown crossing her face as she began to remove it. Lyrius knew what lay beneath it - he had performed the initial healing to save Fran's life - but she had kept it covered since that first week in Dracula's castle after the enucleation surgery, and he had not seen what it looked like after two months of healing.

The eyelid was rent by a huge scar that had gashed vertically left down her face. Tiny dots on either side marked where the flesh had been stitched together during the healing process. Behind the lid the orbital implant sat, filling the space where Fran's eye had previously been. She had not opted for a prosthesis, so the implant stared out, blank and unseeing. A void highlighting what had been taken from her.

Guilt flickered through, followed by pity and then sympathy for how clearly she was uncomfortable showing it to him. Lyrius let them linger for a single moment, then dismissed the feelings. None of them were how to approach this. "Thank you for being comfortable in sharing your injury with me like this. I am going to need to touch your face and look close to determine what make-up to apply. Is that going to be acceptable, Francesca?"

She shrugged, turning the eyepatch over in both hands. "Sure."

"Thank you." He gestured for her to sit and she did, still worrying eyepatch between her hands. Her eye wasn't focused on him as he studied the eye and the implant, gently cupping her chin to tilt her head to get a better look at it. "The first step, then - do you want to keep the eyepatch with your new look? Or have this exposed?"

"Eyepatch," Fran's answer was instant. "Sorry, I know it's going to make it harder. I looked at prosthesis, but none of them looked real."

"That is alright; a prothesis or this scar will be more memorable than a simple eyepatch. Though we should avoid the pirate angle - it will just remind people of Maria going on a rampage," Lyrius said lightly and was rewarded when Fran managed a light smile. Pleased, he tilted her face the other way.

"I walked around the harbour today," Fran admitted. "Kept thinking any second she was going to pop up in a ship, hurling cannonballs and spouting cliches, like someone forced her to go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney over and over again." She snorted. "She was no Cheng I Sao, let's be honest."

Lyrius felt a fond grin creep onto his face at the notion. "Honestly, I'm not certain she would ever want to be. She didn't like pretending to be a pirate - it was a show to intimidate people, and she did find it terribly cliche. Growing up she always wanted to wear ballgowns and tiaras, but her brothers used to make fun of her." He lifted her head to check the line of her jaw, and then tilted it down to examine her forehead. "Plenty of canvas, but you're quite balanced as it is, so less is more, I am thinking…"

"Thanks...I think?"

He made a non-committal noise. "May I touch your hair?" When she nodded, he ran his fingers though some of it, holding it out and seeing how the red shading held against both the light and her skin. "This, I can work with as well. I do not want to cut it, as for some strange reason, magical hair growth potions are ridiculously complicated to make. But I will style it, a bit more of a side-sweep that half-covers the patch and so on. A more mature look for a young woman."

Fran was going a bit red. "Not that I'm not liking the help and all, but isn't this a bit much? I just need to not look like the Unicorn Maiden, remember?"

"The Shadow Spawn, Serenity and Castiel all know who you are very well," Lyrius reminded her firmly. "And once word spreads that you are here, they will be actively looking for you. You need to be as unrecognizable as we can make you, which means doing a look you wouldn't even consider."

"Okay." Fran admitted. "So...hair or make-up first?"

"Hair." Standing up, Lyrius grabbed a brush, comb and a few other things. Shielding her eyes with his hand, he spritzed her hair with water and then began to comb it. "Since none of you mentioned it, I presume there was no trace of Serenity in your search?"

Despite himself, he felt his hopes crawl up his chest just a tiny bit, and he hated himself for knowing that they were going to be squashed. Fran sighed.

"No. Just a satyr with small balls and an even smaller brain." In the reflection of the dresser mirror Lyrius could see the thoughtful expression on her face, and he doubted that the small-balled satyr was the cause. "I talked to a few girls when we were getting clothes for Resonae. They mentioned none of the harbour has been rebuilt yet. And there are rolling blackouts in Petalburg because there isn't enough power."

Lyrius paused, the comb stalling at the base of Fran's skull. "That should not be happening. The island is powered by underwater turbines kept moving by magic. The only way there is not enough power is if one or more of the turbines is nonfunctional."

Fran shrugged. "I didn't get a chance to ask further. But they said the power is spotty all over the north east of the island. Petalburg has scheduled blackouts on Thursday and Saturday evenings. The girls said no one wants to be out after dark when it's satyr breeding season."

"There are more satyrs than the one you duelled?" Lyrius was alarmed. "Iris never allowed them to settle on the island - they cause too many problems with the civilian population when they are in heat."

"Well it sounds like there's a permanent population of them now," Fran scowled, clearly thinking about her duel. "Jace made it sound like his herd just do what they want - nobody's policing them, and the civilians are too scared to make a fuss."

Lyrius felt a hiss of displeasure escape through his teeth. "The Shadow Spawn must have permitted them to settle...maybe to help repair the damage to the environment that the duel spirits caused. But they should know better - at the very least they should be policing them during breeding season." He squeezed the handle of the comb hard. "I knew I should have stayed…"

Fran squinted at him in the mirror. "You think the Shadow Spawn are screwing things up?"

"They're children...or they were." Years of worry and bitterness flooded Lyrius in a rush, and he felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. "They were trained to enforce Iris's rule, not take it over. This island has a wealth of resources in the Palace alone and yet it has been abandoned to treasure hunters, and the wards not even checked on in the last five years."

He cut himself off, realizing his grip on the comb was getting perilously tight and relaxed it, lest he rip Fran's hair out in chunks. "They should have let me in five years ago. I could have done so much...saved them…"

"...you aren't talking about the Shadow Spawn, are you?" Fran asked after a moment. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. "Does this have anything to do with last night, when you searched the Palace by yourself?"

"...yes. I…" The words were there, but there was something in his throat that refused to let them get out. He pulled another couple of knots out of Fran's hair to buy time, but professionalism refused to let him do a disservice to her so he could stall.

"You know that Iris possessed a lot of minions and servants and so on from the tournament."

"I remember Crump, yes." Fran nodded. "And the floating fishbowl that was Grodus. Plus, you know, Saggi, The Unfriendly Amazon, Ruklamba the Spirit King and…" A shudder ran through her. "Gloomtail. I remember thinking afterwards she was leaning pretty hard on the 'evil witch' playbook with them."

"Yes, well, many, many years ago, I too was possessing of my own group of minions. A group of women from many walks of life and races that I honed into a collective I called the Silk Knives. Spies, assassins, guardians and so on. They were very capable and skilled." Lyrius continued. "They were, in fact, how she found out about you and the other Heroes before the tournament."

"Always wondered how she did that when Falgar kept protecting our bloodlines through magic and whatever," Fran admitted. "But if they were so competent and dangerous, how come we never saw them during the Tournament?"

"It is because Iris' pride got in the way. They were deeply loyal to me, not her and the idea of them earning her victories over you rankled. So, once your existences were confirmed, they did what they have been doing for centuries; take potions of Stone Sleep and remain as statues until needed again." Lyrius said as he began to brush instead of comb her hair now that all the knots were gone.

"And...you went to find them last night." Fran's voice was quiet as she made the easy leap in logic.

"Yes." Lyrius swallowed the new lump forming in his throat. "Something, someone, somehow got into their protected chamber and destroyed them all. They are dead."

A hand reached around to squeeze his forearm. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how that must feel." She was looking at him in the mirror, but he kept staring at the back of her head. He didn't want to cry - not in front of her. "Do you want to talk about them?"

"I do. I should. You would have liked some of them." Lyrius said softly. "I cannot find the words at the moment, though."

"When you're ready then," Fran seemed to turn her next question over, before asking it. "Just one question...was one of these Knives called Jaller by any chance?"

Lyrius stopped brushing, this time looking her in the eye in the mirror. "How did you learn that name? She was my second-in-command and my best friend."

"I had a vision while we were in Africa," Fran was tapping a finger on her thigh nervously, as though afraid she would sound mad. "I saw….I lived through the Maiden's memory. She was with the Dragon Master and Dark Sorcerer, camping in the wilderness. You showed up looking for a unicorn, with Vivian as a human and this blue-haired woman with pointed ears - Jaller."

"That was...yes…" Lyrius nodded as the memory came back to him. "Yes, I had heard stories of adventurers on the fringes of the Empire defeating monstrous pests. The Unicorn Maiden's stories had drawn me - female warriors riding a unicorn was rare and such stories spread quickly."

"They didn't know who you were?"

"No. I had sequestered myself from public life for decades at that point, acting only in shadow and through my agents. Easy enough, given how Iris craved the spotlight. My existence had been mostly forgotten and so I was free to move about as I wished. I encountered the Heroes several times before they truly began their campaign." Lyrius said as they walked. "I wanted to discern who they were, the Unicorn Maiden in particular."

Fran gave him a curious, teasing looking. "Trying to recruit for the Knives?"

Lyrius chuckled. "No, I was looking for clues or indications that she was…" His good humor wilted as fast as it bloomed. "My daughter, Lyrissa. She was kidnapped years before. I had trained her well in combat and she was capable of taming a unicorn. It would have been a cruel tactic, to take her, wipe her mind and then unleash as an enemy upon the Empire…"

She nodded, looking down at the ground in a guilty fashion. "...I'm sorry I disappointed you. Instead of your daughter, you got the Dragon Master's sword nearly up your nose, and your frisky stallion running off to get busy with my mount."

"Caitias would have gone with or without me - he was very enamored with Thespeade. A whiff of her scent in the vicinity and I could kiss any mission I had goodbye until he got laid. I would wager that most of the unicorns in Africa are their descendants." Lyrius told her, trying to coax smile back into his face at how obnoxious the mount could be sometimes. He was only partially successful. "And the Dragon Master was all bluster at that point. And even after gaining skills and powers, he also mastered the ego of dragon as well."

He paused, then added. "Not undeservedly, of course. He was a dangerous and cunning opponent and I was loathe to engage him even when he was just with one dragon, let alone his two friends."

Fran snorted and rolled her eyes. "I don't even want to think what Andy would be like if he actually managed to get dragons. I mean...look what the big sword did?" she gestured to her face. "Okay, that was actually Weevil's fault, but still - !"

Silence fell after thats Lyrius' combed and brushed out her hair, punctuated by the occasional spritz of hairspray as he began to style it.

"Can you tell me more about her?" She blurted out. "The Maiden, I mean."

"I can, though I cannot tell you everything. Our paths intersected passionately, but briefly. And there will be a bias - I was fond of her." Lyrius said as he worked.

"That's okay. No one else had told me anything about her except she was this big shot, do-gooder hero who rode virgin-smelling horses and didn't wear armor." Fran rolled her eyes as she spoke, aware of how stupid it sounded.

"Very well. If you saw our first meeting as you claim, then I will start with the second. It involved giant spiders in a dark forest and a very unhealthy amount of fire from all of us…"

OOO

The Dockers Box was a small harbourside cafe in Rogueport, full of hurried bodies, clinking crockery and people chewing around their conversations. It reminded Andy of every greasy spoon he had ever been to in the US, and they did the strongest coffee in Arcadia. Around the small tables, dockworkers were scoffing hasty lunches, and friends caught up over a slice of cake. But he barely heard it. His head was full of thoughts, and none of those thoughts were good company.

He hadn't found hide nor hair of anything related to Ohio Jones. Not how the treasure hunter had come to be on Arcadia or how he'd gotten into the Palace (and survived the traps therein) or even where he had been staying. All they had on him was the fact he'd killed two people who worked for the Shadow Queen after dying because of Lyrissa's key and coming back as magic Terminator.

It made Andy deeply concerned. After all, if one man could break in, others could too. Who knew how many magical items had been spirited out of the Palace. He remembered when he and Fran had been tracking down Oblivion on the black market just how much artefacts could go for once you found something to link them to Arcadia. Treasures from inside the Palace itself would be worth a fortune. Vladimir had been unavailable all morning, but he had sent the king a message asking for permission to go check the wards himself. The Palace was still off limits to everyone on the island, and he didn't want to cause any trouble - even heroes weren't above the law.

But that would have to wait. He and Lyrissa had an appointment to keep first.

Said appointment would be walking in any moment now, and hopefully breaking the uncomfortable silence around the small table. Lyrissa sat across from him, sipping a cup of berry tea and staring out of the window at the passing crowds. She had been quiet since the meeting with the Shadow Spawn and Andy wondered if she was thinking about Ohio Jones too. Or maybe she was thinking about Serenity - she had seemed very empathetic towards the vampire the previous night. Makes a change from her scowling at everyone…

Although, as his thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous evening, maybe there was another consideration in her mind.

"Hey, Lyrissa?"

She didn't look away from the window, or even blink. "Yes, Dragon Master?"

"Do you know if there's any secret entrances in and out of the Palace?"

A slight smile tugged at those pale lips. "I do know if there is or is not."

Andy sighed. "Please don't make me make it an order - you know what I want to know."

His companion took a long sip of tea, clearly enjoying how hard she was making him work for answers. Andy resisted the urge to just give her a push with the Penalty Game now - she would answer. It wasn't like she could refuse, so she had nothing to gain from resisting.

"It depends on your definition of secret." She said. "Aside from the main door, there are two other entrances which were public before the Palace was sealed to become Mother's prison - servants entrances, deliveries and goods etc...easy enough to find eventually if you circled the Palace. The Shadow Spawn would have sealed those as a matter of course when they left."

Andy did not miss the omission in her statement. "And the non-public entrances?"

Her smile flickered - he wasn't sure if it was disappointment at being caught out, or she found him impressive. "The Shadow Spawn were aware of three other secret entrances known only to the Royal Family and a select few others. They would have also sealed those."

"Any entrances that the Shadow Spawn didn't know about?" he grit his teeth together - he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she could wind him up.

She gave a tiny sigh of defeat. "...one. But you need not worry about it. It is keyed to open only to three magical signatures - mother, father and myself. It is not physically possible to traverse it unless you are one of us." Her gaze finally fixed on him. "Ohio Jones would not have been able to pass that way. It is far more likely that he gained access by forcing his way through one of the public entrances."

She took another sip of tea, her gaze drifting idly over a cluster of dockworkers who had just come in loudly demanding buttys, and landing on a small child sitting with her mother. She gave her a smile, and the girl waved before going back to her cake.

"It must have been recent," Andy didn't like to imagine how hard Ohio or whoever it was had had to work to break those kinds of enchantments. "Or the Spawn would have noticed. We'll have to check it out when we can - maybe ask Vladimir to strengthen the wards once we find the breach point."

He heard Lyrissa's scoff echo into her mug, and he frowned at her. "What?"

"Nothing...I am simply amused," Lyrissa was smiling. And the smile grew as his frown did. "If you cannot figure out why, then I have no reason to tell you."

"Sounds like to me you think the Spawn are incomptetant and want your butt on the throne." Andy huffed back - and to his surprise, Lyrissa's smile winked out. "Oh, don't tell me you don't think you'd be doing a better job."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But I was trained to rule and they were not."

She didn't sound nearly as smug as she usually did and that got Andy's attention more than anything else. "Don't feed me that. Your mom was a raging psychopath and your dad was her bootlicker. You cannot seriously think you'd do a better job than Vlad just because your parents taught you how to kill people you don't like."

"Shut up." Her words were sharp. "I will not have you tarnish my family in my presence like that - even if it is all you seem to be capable of."

"Vlad's family. So are the other Spawn. And you've not even said a good word about any of them." Andy retorted. "In case you didn't know, that's called being a hypocrite."

"Very well, you are right. Then I will stop impugning upon the Shadow Spawn and their abilities as rulers." Lyrissa said simply. "And you will stop deriding my mother and father with every other breath. That seems like a fair arrangement."

"Your mom tried to kidnap and kill me and used innocent people as pawns and hostages to get to me and my friends. I think I know her enough to call it like I see it." Andy could feel his temper rising as he spoke. He wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't reconcile the fact that a decent person like Lyrissa was trying to defend the Shadow Queen or because she was a bit too much like her mother in the smug, commanding tone department that made his ire spark.

"That Queen, that woman, that thing was no more my mother than she was yours." Lyrissa snapped, teacup clattering hard into the saucer. "And in case you have forgotten, Dragon Master, I know all about what happened here five years ago. How she played a stupid, infantile game meant to pander more to her bloated ego than to achieve any actual goal of freedom. How she defied all logic and sense over the last thousand years to satiate her pride. How she wasted every chance to be better, to do better, to make things better. I do not need anymore reminders that she was a terrible, sad person."

Andy gawked at her and then he shoved his mug onto the table, shaking his head fiercely. "No, no, no - you don't get to start playing 'she was a poor misunderstood victim' card! Not after what she did! She deserved everything she got! Just because you love her doesn't negate all the evil, sick-"

"Then why did you try to save her?"

The question brought Andy up short. "What."

"You tried to save her. At the end of that final duel. When she was being dragged off to the Abyss. You and your Maiden and your Sorcerer, you all tried to save her. And after that, you lamented what had gone wrong in her life, what could have been if things had been different." Lyrissa's words were quiet, her expression not leaving his. "So if she is as bad as you say and you are so traumatized and wounded by her actions, why did you try and save her?"

"I...Lyrissa, it was...it was different, okay? I was young and impulsive and running on the high that we won! When things are like that, you think anything is possible. We saved the kingdom, the world, the people - I just - I don't know -why not save her, too? It all happened so fast-" Andy gave up, capping off his rambling with a sigh and glancing out the window. "I just...we were young and stupid, thinking we could somehow redeem her."

"No one is beyond redemption. But few are willing to walk the path. It means giving up everything. But they do not have to walk it alone, so long as others are willing to be kind." Lyrissa said and he had to strain hear her. "She did not have to walk alone…"

Andy's reply was cut short by a roar of agony from a few tables over. He rounded to see the four dockworkers - all satyrs he now realised - from earlier, two wincing in sympathy while a third bled profusely from his mouth. The fourth stood over him, clutching something small and white between his fingers.

"Fuck me, Caz!" the bleeding satyr's voice was muffled from the blood, but he more than made up with it with volume. "I said fix it, not pull it out, you dick!" He looked around at the stares of the silent cafe, and colour rose in his cheeks. "What the fuck are you all staring at?"

Andy wondered if he should go up and say something, but he was pretty sure from the man's attitude that help would not be appreciated, and he had been on Arcadia long enough now to know that satyrs had short tempers when it was breeding season - it wasn't worth the effort. He picked up his coffee again and found Lyrissa glaring at the group with distaste. She wasn't the only one - the child who she'd smiled at not long ago was taken by her mother's hand and pulled from the cafe, with only half their drinks drunk. Clearly this was too much bad language for one day. He couldn't help but notice that around them, most people were looking as far in the opposite direction as they could, their shoulders shrinking in as though trying to make themselves less of a target. The conversation picked back up, but it was muted compared to before.

"It was split right to the root, Jace. There was no fixing this," Caz sat down at the table, tossing what Andy could now see was half a tooth onto the table, and plucking a paper napkin out of the dispenser to wipe the blood off his hands. "You're lucky it didn't pierce the nerve, or you could have been paralyzed - my cousin had that when his wisdom teeth came out."

Jace's scowl deepened. "Fucking bitches. When I get my hands on that skank-"

"Just leave it, man," another one said, snatching up one of the buttys as they were placed on the table. "Frigid bitches ain't worth your time." He leaned back in his chair and leered at the waitress's ass as she finished depositing the sandwiches.

"Not true," Caz said, ripping into his own lunch with quiet fury. "They're worth the most time if it teaches them not to disrespect us. Just because we got hooves and horns doesn't mean we're goats that should have to bleat for attention. We deserve polite, respectful females. We've earned that right."

It took a lot of self control for Andy not to get up and give the satyr a broken tooth to match his friend's. Unfortunately there was no law against just talking, however distasteful it might be, and he didn't like his odds at four vs one. He glanced thoughtfully at Lyrissa. She was gazing out of the window again, but there was the tiniest stiffness to her posture that indicated she was very conscious of the conversation nearby.

"What are you suggesting?" the fourth one was sipping at his coffee thoughtfully. "We hunt her down? Not worth the heat. She's famous - we'd be lynched as soon as it went public. Not to mention we've got no chance against a Nightmare."

Jace, who had been rinsing his mouth out into his water glass, scoffed. "I'm not scared of an overgrown horse!" He declared, wadding up a napkin and stuffing it into the cavity where his tooth had been. Andy knew posturing when he heard it - he'd never seen a Nightmare, but he knew what they were, and he knew any sane person would be terrified.

"I'm saying we need to start demanding more respect around here," Caz said, pointing with his butty and throwing the contents all over the table. "The Spawn invited us - the whole Satyr Collective - to help fix their forests because they 'respected our gifts'. But if these people are going to keep acting like we're second class citizens, and not respecting what we want, then our help can easily go away again, and we can leave them and their forests to rot."

He bit into his butty and looked at them all. Jace was nodding in angry agreement as he chewed on his napkin. The other two just glanced at each other, clearly less certain.

"It's a nice idea, man," the one who had leered at the waitress. "But you can't just force people to respect you, any more than you can get a chick to give you the time of day."

"I was talking to Ayanda earlier while we were offloading," Caz said. "There's plenty of us who think the same. We've just got to start showing that we won't be pushed around. If someone disrespects you, you show them your fist. Some bitch looks down at you, you don't take no for an answer. We've got to start taking what we want. What are they going to do? Kick us off the island?"

"He's right," Jace chimed in. "I was about to show that slag who I really was, and nobody in the crowd was helping her - just all looked at their shoes."

Andy grit his teeth. It wasn't in his nature as a man or a hero to just judge the people of Arcadia - they had suffered horribly for years and for some, it was the only thing they knew. But the idea of them still refusing to look beyond themselves and come together as whole still grated him.

"We're here and we aren't going to let these people push us around," Caz said. "I don't care if they're the Spawn, heroes or ponies with god complexes. We're gonna teach everyone a lesson."

"Speaking of teaching," the groper pulled out his phone with a gleeful smirk on his face. "Check out what I took on the bus this morning."

All of them crowded round, and their eyes lit up instantly. Forgetting about his napkin, Jace tried to whistle and spat it out into the middle of his sandwich.

"Nice," there was something sinister about Caz's approval.

"Mhmm," the owner of the photo took the phone back and stared lecherously at it. "Gods bless the guy who invented school uniforms-"

Andy felt his restraint snap. Talking was one thing, but upskirting was something else. He shoved his chair back, only slightly surprised to see Lyrissa doing the same thing, but as he turned to draw Oblivion for a little extra intimidation, the whole cafe was plunged into darkness.

There were noises of panic and angered outcry from the cafe's patrons, the satyrs' loudest of all. Then there was the sound of a fist hitting someone and something breaking followed by a few more heavier thumps and then cries of pain. Flashes lit up the darkness for an instant, followed by shrieks from satyrs and the smell of burning fur.

Things had gone south so fast, Andy wasn't even sure how to react. But Oblivion was in his grasp and he felt its presence whisper into his mind that a hero could fight under any circumstance and suddenly the world wasn't darkness but shades of it. A grayscale image of the cafe that let him see people groping in the dark or huddling, along with a figure wielding a long stun baton and absolutely wailing on the satyrs with it. Flashes of energy zapped across the darkness accompanied by yelps of pain as the group tried to scramble away or dart under the table.

Dressed head to toe in black, with bulges beneath the fabric from some sort of modern body armour, the attacker looked like they meant business and Andy didn't hesitate. Assholes or not, the satyrs were still people having a crime committed upon them. He darted forwards, stepping up onto a chair's seat and then it's back to throw himself into the suited figure's shoulder.

They went down hard, but the armor absorbed the impact as the figure shoved Andy off him. Andy kept rolling as the stun baton crashed down where he'd been and retaliated with a kick that caught the figure square in the face. They both cursed, the figure in pain and Andy at the realization his blow hadn't budged the face covering. Meaning it wasn't a mask, it was a helmet.

He was on his feet at the same time the figure was, but they were backing away in a defensive posture. But it didn't matter if they weren't ready for a fight, they were going to get one. Andy followed with quick steps, Oblivion flashing out as the vigilante raised their baton in an automatic parry - and his sword sheared through it like it was butter. The ends sparked uselessly and then the figure dropped it with another curse.

Andy pressed his advantage, slinging Oblivion over his back and charging in close. That body armour wasn't going to let him just wail on the attacker, but there were weak spots. He blocked a high punch, felt his counter blow smack into a chestplate and then twisted to let a jab wiff past his ear. Ducking avoided an arm sweept and then he was behind them, looping his arms around neck and arm in a chokehold. Armor didn't stop the need to breath and he shifted his stance as the vigilante tried to throw himself backwards and pin Andy underneath. "Nice try, buddy, but you're not the first person I've done this to-"

It was then the ceiling replaced the floor and only when Andy felt something hard slam into his back that he realized the figure had somehow managed to throw him over their shoulder. Right, not human. Shadowkind.

He was fine with that, too. Whirling to his feet, he readied himself, only to catch a chair in the face. The figure kicked a second at him and Andy moved reflexively, only to hear a shriek of terror behind him. Shit, the customers can't see!

The vigilante knew it, too, as they hurled another chair at him.

There was a blinding flare of light nearby that made both of them clutch their eyes and stumble. Andy heard the sound of Lyrissa's voice, followed by a door banging open. "Everyone out! This way! Hurry!"

He forced his eyes open, saw a small sphere of light floating near the cafe's doorway to illuminate the open door. The street outside wasn't visible, showing only a wall of darkness. But he could hear street sounds and people outside and the patrons weren't staying around - they were all scrambling and fumbling for it around each other, tables, chairs while trying to avoid the brawl in the middle of the room.

The satyrs, by virtue of hiding under the table, had avoided the flare of light and were now swarming the attacking figure. The vigilante fought back, armor soaking up the blows even as they shrugged off attempts to just dogpile him down. And they were giving out much better, Andy could hear the heavy sounds of metal fists and legs smashing into soft limbs and torsos. One satyr - the one who had been showing the photo - was down, whimpering and clutching between his legs.

There was a shout from one satyr - he thought it might be Jace - and vines sprouted from the attacker's arm. They swarmed like they were alive, snaring limb and joint and body and with a triumphant shout, the satyrs shoved him over and fell on him. Andy felt a jolt of fear in his chest. "No - don't - we need them alive-"

That was when there was the second explosion of light, one that left all the satyrs screaming in pain and Andy felt his teeth rattle as noise hammered into his skull. That was Mundane flashbang and now the word was swimming in an indistinct haze of muffled noises.

The satyrs were all rolling on the ground, clutching at ears and eyes and screaming though Andy couldn't really hear. The vigilante was unbothered, kicking and stomping at them as he examined their faces in turn. Then he seized Caz by the leg and dragged him out into the open, banging his head against table legs and chairs as he went. The satyr yelled and began to kick at his would-be captor. But the hooves clanged off of the armor and the satyr began swearing up a storm as he tried to claw at the sticky linoleum floor.

Andy forced himself to move, hand diving into his moleskin pouch and whipping out a coiled rope. He flicked his wrist and the rope shot across the distance between them like a flying snake. It came to life as it hit, looping and coiling around the vigilante and forcing him to drop Caz. They jerked and twisted, straining hard and the rope snapped as it dug against the edges of the gauntlets.

The drop-kick landed perfectly square in the chest, throwing the figure back. A table broke under their weight and Andy didn't slow down as he caught the tablecloth in both hands and yanked as the figure tried to rise up. Now being shoved forwards with more momentum than they wanted, they came stumbling towards Andy. Which in turn let him grab the back of their head and drive a knee into their waist. This time, he felt the impact connect hard - no armor at the waist so the figure could bend and move.

Strong hands were suddenly at his throat and Andy felt the world tilt as the figure straightened, hauling him up off the ground with him. His spotty vision, which had been slowly clearing, began to darkened at the edges again and he clawed at the hands, kicked at the body. Definitely Shadowkind and definitely a strong one. He swore in the back of his head, willed Oblivion into his hand; vigilante could still talk with one arm-

A knife was suddenly sprouting from the figure's inside elbow and they dropped Andy, a distorted cry of pain echoing out of the armor. Andy dimly registered that way as they were using a voice changer and sucked in a few deep breaths to try and get himself steady again. Another knife hissed in again, landing on the figure's shoulder. The armor absorbed most of it, but they were backing away now and swatting another knife out of the air with a blind swing.

Lyrissa was there, her little ball of light flicking around this way and that as she moved, erratic and not following her at all even as she hurled another knife or two at the attacker. For a moment, Andy was confused as to what the hell she was doing and then it clicked when he saw Lyrissa vanish behind a table and then reappear out of a wall behind the vigilante, her knives lodging uselessly in the back armor.

That was a shadow slide, something he's seen Lyrius use to move in the darkness. And that's why the light ball was moving like it was - there had to be light for things to cast shadows and the skill wouldn't work in total darkness.

Stumbling, cursing and warding off knives, the vigilante decided it was time to go. They grabbed something from their belt, gripping a pin in it and Andy realized it was another flashbang - only for Lyrissa's hand to snare their wrist and twist, dropping the item as she stepped out of the figure's shadow. For a moment, they traded blows and then she landed an elbow into their throat. They lurched and fell to their knees.

And both hands grabbed the sparking halves of the stun baton. Andy swore, yelling a warning that sounded thick to his echoing ears. Lyrissa reacted instantly, a kick sending the man sprawling, but he wasn't attacking her. He pressed both ends of the baton together, briefly restoring the connection and dangerous sparks cracked and popped over the weapon.

He drove both ends into a table cloth and flames instantly ignited. Andy yelled again, Lyrissa diving into a nearby shadow as the figure whipped the tablecloth, contents and all, at her. She reappeared next to him, face tight with consternation as the flames caught the second table and spread fast, the vigilante bolting for the back exit - and then she was whirling around, yanking a satyr to their hooves and shoving them out the door.

Andy could already see the cheap plastic surfaces melting under the flames, noxious fumes filling the air. He grabbed Jace and Caz by the back of their necks and hauled them towards the door, kicking chairs out of the way as he went. Lyrissa was right behind him, with the final victim slung over her shoulder.

A crowd had gathered in the street, and a round of applause filled the air as they emerged, dumping the coughing, bloodied satyrs on the ground. Andy could see volunteers organising, as the smoke became clearer through the windows, shouting for buckets and running into neighboring shops to borrow fire extinguishers. His head was aching from the melting plastic, but he pushed it aside, racing around to the back of the store. The exit was behind the dumpster, but there was no sign of the vigilante - he'd had more than enough time to make an escape.

"He fled?" Lyrissa was waiting for him, handing the satyrs over to the waiting medics.

"Like a bat out of hell." Andy replied tightly. "I don't care what grudge you got against satyrs or anyone else, you don't just endanger everyone and set a building on fire! The next time I see that bastard, I'm taking him down!"

"Ah that's just the passion I've been searching for - I knew I made a good choice seeking you out, my boy."

A wave of memory and nostalgia swept over Andy as he recognised the familiar voice of their lunchtime appointment. "Merlow!"

"Good to see you too, Mister Markova," the old man said, chuckling as Andy gave him a firm hug. "Careful there! Five years has made me smarter, not hardier!"

"Sorry. It's just good to see you!" Andy said, still smiling as he took in the wizened face. Aside from a few extra laughter lines and a new pair of glasses perched on his long nose, he hadn't aged a day. That's wizards for you…

He heard the bell that accompanied the volunteer fire truck speeding up to the scene, and Andy turned to look over his shoulder at the cafe. "You picked a hell of a place for a meeting."

"So I can see," Merlow sighed at the thick black smoke now pressing into the windows. "And I was so looking forward to a cup of coffee and a biscuit. Still, I must congratulate how you handled the scene, both of you." He turned and inclined his head in respect to Lyrissa. "Priestess."

Lyrissa smiled back and nodded in return. "Hail and well met, wizard."

Andy blinked glancing back and forth between them. "Umm...Priestess?"

Merlow gave him a look of mild surprise. "Did you not know? Your companion is a Priestess of Eliastraee, a goddess of songs, swords, moonlight and art as well as the patron of lost and wayward souls." He leaned, peering over the top of his spectacles at Lyrissa again. "Though...you seem rather strained at the moment, miss. Are you well?"

Lyrissa just gave him a polite look. "I'm afraid I cannot speak of that right now. It would be best if you consider me just to be the magical help at the moment."

"Say no more, say no more." Merlow was cut off by the blast of a high pressure hose being turned on the cafe. "Perhaps we should relocate to somewhere more peaceful?"

"Sound idea," Andy agreed, beginning to cut a path through the crowds. "Let's find somewhere to get you that coffee, and then you can tell us what you've heard about these monster attacks."

As they moved down the street and away from the smell of smoke, Andy added another two tasks to his growing list of quests. Warn the Shadow Spawn about the satyrs. Investigate this vigilante.

Being a hero really was starting to feel like a job.

OOO

A/N: When husband blanks on the authors note, that means I run the show! Mwahaha!

Sorry for the delay everyone - 7th Librarian and I have a lot of back and forth when we are writing. He wants plot. I want character development. We rewrite a lot of this. I have a document of unused scenes for this story and Something Borrowed that's already over 150 pages - and that's just from the shit we've posted already. There's still a lot of junk to go through in the unpublished chapters...

For those of you who can't live without seeing a children's card game every five minutes, don't worry, there are plenty of duels coming up. 7th Librarian will be working his cute butt off over the next few chapters.

You know, I have like a million words of scrapped scenes, alternate chapters, ideas and everything, too...I slave over our lovechild here, too!

It's not a contest sweetie...but like our Duel Monsters record, I'll be happy to beat you in this too, if you really want…

As for the rest of you, as always thank you for the reviews. They are what get us out of bed in the mornings...except last Sunday when an egg sack of spiders hatching in the corner of the room was what got us out of bed…

I'm just glad I was at work at the time...