Carnunta's absence left the mortals queasy. They milled about the paths and trails of the hamlet, confused and nervous, and they glanced at him time and again. Their little looks wore on his patience; intentionally or no they all but cornered him against his post at the gates. He couldn't talk with them - they weren't his subjects, not to reassure or to confront, and they could hardly ask much of him either. He was Risen. They were not. His garb alone marked him for what he was, if not his solitary nature.

Only old Ekha, the hamlet's most senior member, was bold enough to cross that line. Ikharos knew her; she was the very woman who'd pulled Carnunta's bullet out of his belly. A hardier soul than the rest so far as he could tell. She held a shotgun well enough to speak of some familiarity with firearms. That Carnunta trusted her at all with a weapon was surprising, though she lived in the hut closest to his hillfort. All the easier for him to watch over her and her kids. Ekha clambered up beside him, settled some respectful feet away, and asked, "What is it?"

Dragon. Dragon. Dragon. That was what Carnunta had said. Ikharos still didn't understand it.

"Well?" Ekha demanded. Stone cold. Pretending to be braver than she was - and why wouldn't she be scared? Only the one life to live after all.

Ikharos shifted. "Go inside."

"Is it Fallen?" she spat. "Where's the lord?"

"Hunting."

"Why did he call the others?"

Ikharos shrugged.

"He's worried."

"Tell it to him."

"You're worried," Ekha accused, voice growing soft.

Ikharos supposed she was right. Still didn't tell her about it.

"What's out there?"

"Dragon," Ikharos said - because maybe she'd know something he didn't. Clearly he was right, because Ekha stirred with surprise, a faraway look on her face.

"Dragon?" she whispered. "Really?"

Ikharos shrugged. She looked as if to ask another question, then thought better of it. Before long she left him behind.

There was a commotion that night, not long after the sun set. Ghost had to prod him awake with one of her fins. Ikharos opened his eyes, saw the fires on the horizon and he shot to his feet. Fallen! he thought - but there was a lack of chittering, of energy weapons whining, of starships roaring out of thin air. The woods in the distance were simply ablaze, casting long writhing shadows across the fields in between.

"Must be Carnunta," Ghost murmured. "What a violent man."

Ikharos didn't say anything. He turned, found the hamlet's denizens grouped up outside and huddled together, clutching at rusty old weapons. Ikharos did a quick headcount, came up short, did another but slower to give him time to pick out the children from the huddle... and still short. Three people absent.

"Everyone," he said hoarsely. The mortals hushed and listened. "Get inside. Lock your doors."

They didn't move.

"I said-"

"Lord!" one of the villagers cried out, cringing fearfully. "Lord, our homes won't survive a fire."

"It won't spread," Ikharos told them firmly. "Just get inside."

"But lord-!"

"They're scared," Ghost whispered. "C'mon, Ike. They're yours to watch."

"Don't call me that. And they're not mine," he quietly reminded her. "This is for the best."

"Their houses'll go up like matches. Fallen did it before."

"This isn't Fallen."

"Yeah," Ghost scoffed. She glanced at the forest. "I can see that."

"What do you propose we do?" Ikharos hissed.

"Bring them into the hall."

"Carnunta's hall?" he echoed, incredulous. "He'd kill us."

"He'll never know. Look, just do it. For them. For me."

He hesitated. He hesitated long and hard and it was a while yet before he allowed himself to give her a reluctant nod. "Fine," he grunted. "Fine..." Ikharos turned back, gestured to the closest of the mortals. "Take yourselves up to Carnunta's hold, get everyone inside and lock the doors behind you."

To their credit no one seemed keen on the idea - but a distant, guttural howl that sounded neither human nor Fallen echoed through the night air, swiftly bringing the matter to a close. Ikharos pinned one man with a pointed finger. "You," he said. "Find who isn't here, lead them up."

"Yes lord!" the mortal exclaimed, nodding his head vigorously.

The night progressed slowly. The horizon remained ablaze, and Ikharos remained at watch. He strained to listen, picking at the faint crackle of flame and the howling of the wind. The weather was dry, albeit rough, and the conditions were perfect for a wildfire. It all too easily brought him back to memories of London - trading trees for buildings and the din of the elements for... for the screams. The war cries. The bellowing of warships above and the shrill snarls of soldiers on the streets. Ikharos shook his head to clear it of the memory but it was lodged tight. It was a dogged thing, the nightmares, and he felt lesser for them. Diminished, the fading of colour in the world. In many ways he wished he could just put it all behind him...

Then why don't you?

"IKE!" Ghost screamed. Ikharos opened his eyes with a start. "Something's here!"

"What?" he asked groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Had he really dozed off? Ikharos stood up, picked his shrapnel launcher after him and looked around. "I don't-"

Another howl cut him off. Only this time it was much closer.

"Somewhere along the eastern wall," Ghost told him. "I don't know if it's inside or not."

He braced his launcher against his shoulder and dropped down from the palisade altogether - almost landing on the mortal man from earlier, knocking him over. The villager's face was ashen pale in the light of Ghost's glowing eye, eyes wide with fright.

"L-Lord," he stammered on the muddy ground. Scared shitless.

"What?" Ikharos picked him up by his shoulders. He weighed almost nothing. Some parts his own unerring strength, surely, but - the body under his fingers was thin, gaunt, fragile. Grossly underfed.

"Ekha!" the mortal gasped. "She wouldn't come with me! Sent her young'uns with us! I think-"

A third howl. Inside the walls.

Ikharos pushed the man as gently as he could, still making him stumble. "Get to the hall and bar the doors. Don't open them for anything. Do you understand?"

The man trembled and stared.

"I asked, do you understand?"

"Y-yes lord."

"Then go." Ikharos pulled his launcher over his shoulder. "Go now!"

The man scampered away.

"Ekha-" Ghost started to say, but Ikharos was already on the move.

I know, he thought. I know.

The door to the hut was ajar. Green, red, blue lights flickered from somewhere in the shadows. Ikharos heard mumbling. Talking. Someone laughed - a woman's voice, but... odd.

"Ekha," Ikharos called out.

All fell silent. All fell dark.

Then...

"No," Ekha said. "Not him." She stepped out into the open, expressionless. Wringing her hands. Her bleeding hands. "You should be at the gate, lord," she murmured.

Ikharos squinted. "Who's in there?"

"Lord?"

"I have ears. I heard." Ikharos activated his shrapnel launcher. "Come out now!"

"Lord-"

"Enough," he snapped. "You should be with your children."

"I will, lord, please-"

"Go."

"Alma has the pox!" she cried, voice raw. "Please lord! We cannot keep like this!"

"Ike..." Ghost whispered. "Be careful. Something's wrong."

"Whoever's in there," Ikharos said slowly, "order them to show themselves. Now."

Ekha stiffly turned about. "Come out," she said hoarsely. "The lord wants to see you."

For a moment there was no response. Then- "If he wills it," something purred. It stepped out, human at a glance but..

No.

No, it was not human.

Not with those eyes-eyes-eyes, boring right into his

soul

He blinked and the sun was suddenly there. High above, not far until noon. Someone was clicking their fingers in front of him, shaking his shoulder - Carnunta himself, smelling of smoke. "Oy!" he snarled. "Look at me!"

Ikharos shivered. "I... what?"

"Killer. Eyes on me."

"Sir..." Where... the gatehouse? Why was he back at the gatehouse? What just happened? "Ekha-"

"Gone." Carnunta scowled. He heaved Ikharost to his footing. "Care to explain to me why the mayflies are in my home?"

"I put them there," Ikharos replied. He frowned. "But I don't-"

"Or why the doors are bust?"

"Bust?"

"Broken," Carnunta said slowly, dangerously. "Shattered to pieces."

"I don't... I don't understand."

"Leave him, 'Nunta," Ranveig grumbled. She was to their left by the open gates, cleaning her nails with a knife. Her face was smeared with ash and the edges of her robes were scorched black. "The dragon's addled his senses."

"It give you a kiss?" Akhaves teased, leaning across the gate's frame. He was smiling with too-white teeth, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"A what?" Ikharos asked haltingly.

"A smoochin'."

"No. No, it..." he trailed off. "Ekha was there-"

"Well she ain't anymore," Carnunta growled. He was furious - all but trembling with it, really. Ikharos wanted to inch away, but he was afraid it would set him off. "Took my 'arms and ran. 'Spose you weren't privy to that?"

"No, I... I don't remember," Ikharos admitted. "I... I think I saw it. The dragon."

Akhaves snorted. "Oh, surely not."

"But I did-"

"He's winding you up," Ranveig sighed, casting Akhaves a warning look. "Leave him."

Akhaves pushed away from the gate. His smile disappeared. "You're far from that pack of yers, 'Veig. Don't be makin' problems with me you can't fix."

"You think I can't?" Ranveig's eyes flashed violet - a very, very alarming shade of violet.

"Stop," Carnunta snapped. His fist filled with fire. "Shut yer gobbers. Not on my land." Ranveig and Akhaves begrudgingly backed off. "Dragon's scampered. Job's a bust. You can fuck off now."

"Just like that?" Akhaves growled. "Where's my pay?"

"Your pay ran off. It's gone. Fixed itself. What did I need you for?" Carnunta squared his shoulders. "Bring me its head or make yourselves scarce. I won't ask twice."

"Careful, 'Nunta," Ranveig murmured. The violet embers were gone but all the threatening aura was still there. "Socrates won't like this."

"Socrates can shove it. Do I need to tell you where?"

"I have imagination enough," Ranveig said, curling her lip. She scarcely even glanced at Ikharos before turning on her heel and angrily marching out. Akhaves glowered and muttered curses, but he wasn't long in following her lead.

"And you." Carnunta rounded on Ikharos. "You're making me problems."

"Lord, I don't-"

"Yeah yeah, I don't care if you fainted at the sight of the thing or it lulled you to sleep with a lullaby; I've got hardware missing. On your watch. That's a problem. You told me you wouldn't give me problems."

"Where's... where's Ekha?" Ikharos nervously inquired.

"Pulled a runner."

"Why would she do that?"

Carnunta snorted derisively. "Maybe because you let the beastie snatch her little girl." He stepped back and pointed out the gates. "Fix. This. Or you'll soon see how I fix my problems." He stomped his way back up to the hill - to the fort from which the mortals slowly trickled out, whimpering. Bloodied.

Terrified.

"Ghost?" Ikharos whispered. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't..." Ghost faltered. "I'm not sure."