So yeah it's been 6 months, but uhhhhh I think u really need 6 months to emotionally prepare yourselves for this chapter.

This chapter is also lovingly called "You'd be surprised the things I'm not above writing"

[Soundtrack: The Musty Scent of Fresh Pâté - The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine]

It's easy to forget you're dead when you've been living, breathing, and going about your life for five years. Quite a bit can change in five years, too. Shadow feels like a grain of sand in an hourglass, waiting his turn to fall. Some days are better than others, but it's torture waiting for something and knowing he may not even recognize it when it comes.

Atlantis is thriving; more than thriving, it's alive. True to her word, Luna never showed her face in front of him again, but it seems like she never escaped her name. Maybe that's her curse -she's a goddess whether she likes it or not, and Shadow's curse is having to count down the days. You see, no matter how long Shadow or Luna can stay alive, there's a time limit to how long Atlantis can exist, and that is the day that Dartz unleashes the Leviathan. It won't be long now…

Shadow lurches forward, swinging his blade towards Evren's side. She catches the blow with her hooked war club, redirecting it to the empty air to the side and throwing him off his balance.

"Not good enough, boss," she smirks, doing a limber dance on her toes.

Shadow grunts, dragging his sword back towards himself. "Do you ever stop gloating?"

A huge grin breaks out on her face, showing every single one of her teeth. "Me? Never."

He flexes his wrists a bit. "Gonna have to teach you some manners then." In a flash, he's back in Evren's face, thrusting his sword. Not fast enough, however, because she's caught it again and jumped back. He doesn't let up, though, letting out blow after blow. Evren's technique depends on being quick on her feet, but not if he can exhaust her first.

She twists out of his reach again and again, her sandals tapping against the pavement rhythmically. If one were to listen closely, they may even be able to predict her next move. But the moment the rhythm gets too familiar, she shifts the paradigm completely, dancing to a different beat.

She laughs, feeling the wind blow through the sweat on her scalp and through the fabric of her tunic. Her movements are effortless, as she swipes at Shadow with her club, catching him in the jaw, and forcing him to recoil. She leers at him through knowing eyes as he rubs at his sore face and tries to get back into formation.

Frustration starts to creep up on Shadow, making his arms tingle with newfound strength. He rushes at Evren, and her arms shoot to her face to protect her neck. He's coming for blood now. Whoever said spite was a poor motivator is a liar.

She yelps and jumps back, nearly losing her footing before using her momentum to push against the ground and hit back at him, pushing his blade back to his own neck, drawing blood. "You nearly killed me, you asshole," she spits at his face.

He grins at her and leans forward, his nose nearly touching hers. "That was the point, you cocky piece of shit."

"That's enough for today," a stern voice interjects. Rayan steps into the fray, grabbing both combatants roughly by their shoulders and prying them apart. "I don't see the appeal of sparring with real weapons. If one of you dies over this foolishness, I'm throwing you into the gutter for the rats."

Sweating and panting, Evren leans into her lover's touch. "Shadow couldn't even kill me if he tried."

Shadow's silver hair clings to his forehead as he lets out short, quick breaths. "Fuck you, Evren."

"Why don't you patch up your pretty neck, your highness?"

"If you think it's so pretty, why don't I give you a matching scar."

"Just try it."

Rayan rolls her eyes and pushes Evren back before giving Shadow a firm look. "Are you going to Princess Kriss's coming-of-age celebration?"

With a quizzical raise of his brow, he frowns. "Are you asking if the Shadow King is going to the Pretender Princess's birthday party?" He then cracks a smile. "Of course, I'm going. What do I look like? Some kind of dirty peasant?" He then held out his arms, his robes, covered in nearly a decade's worth of dirt and sweat, hanging pathetically off of his dark toned arms.

With a snort, Rayan tosses a wet washcloth at his face. "Maybe put on some clean clothes before you present yourself before the goddess Luna."

Evren twists her face in mock disgust. "And her husband -that pompous Lord Hermos."

Shadow rubs the cool cloth over his hot face, if only to hide his distasteful expression. "I didn't even know goddesses could get married." He hadn't been aware that the legendary knights would show themselves this early either, meaning Luna must have brought them out somehow -not that he can say any of this to Rayan or Evren.

Ever the voice of reason, Rayan sighs. "Just because the goddess has become a part of the royal court doesn't mean we should speak ill of her or her husband. Besides, you're the one who scared her off, Shadow."

He knows that Rayan is right, but he can't tell her the real reason he wanted Luna as far away from him as possible. The night of the coming-of-age celebration may be the first time he sees Luna since the day that they met all those years ago. He's not exactly looking forward to it, but such a public celebration will be one of the only times when the castle is open to the public, meaning it's a wonderful time for spies.

[Soundtrack: Beyond Hill and Dale - The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine]

It's a beautiful day at the Atlas Citadel, at the center of which, is the palace grounds and the Grand Temple, as well as the private gardens. The gardens are not open to the public except for during times of celebration, such as the coming-of-age ceremony of the Princess of Atlantis.

The beautifully sculpted archways have images of Neptune and the creation of Atlantis depicted along the sides. Servants are dashing back and forth underneath the arches, carrying decorations into the main courtyard of the garden, where the main festivities will be occurring. Merchants from as far as Rome and Libya have been permitted to set up their own booths and promote their exotic wares to the Atlantean people.

Kriss, now a woman of thirteen, has her hair plaited and tied with ribbons and is walking alongside her wolf, Skye, through the mess of people, careful not to let her hound linger by any of the merchants. Some people can be unreasonably anxious around Skye, although the old girl wouldn't hurt a fly. That doesn't stop Kriss, however, as, due to her illness, she's rarely been allowed to leave her room.

Sitting atop the white wolf is a younger girl, just three years old. She's lazily resting her head on Skye's head and hugging her tightly, digging her tiny hands into the wolf's fur. From afar, she looks like a mess of long black curls sitting atop a cluster of fabric, wrapped in colorful sashes. Her hair is kept out of her small, sleepy blue eyes by a small ornate brooch with an aquamarine gem inside of it -a pure Orichalcos crystal.

It amuses Kriss that nobody knows who she is as she makes her way deeper into the garden. So many people going about their business, completely oblivious to the fact that they've just been in the presence of Princess Kriss of Atlantis and Juno, daughter of the goddess, Luna, and the legendary knight, Hermos.

Juno moans quietly into Skye's fur, beginning to fall asleep like a kitten under the warm afternoon sun. The wolf bristles as Juno nuzzles her neck and digs her arms deeper. Skye lets out a small whine and gives Kriss a pointed look.

Kriss sighs and mumbles, "Can't you hold out until we find her mom. She's somewhere in the gardens."

Skye yips in complacency and does what must be the canine equivalent of an eye roll before trotting ahead and leaving Kriss to jog in order to keep up with her. She weaves through the crowd, careful not to let Juno slip off of her back.

"Hey! Skye! Slow down!" Kriss complains, as she begins to lose sight of Skye in the crowd. The gardens are a maze and if she can't keep an eye on Skye, she may very well lose both the wolf and the girl.

Once the crowd thins, she spots Skye passing through an archway leading into a veritable maze of giant rose bushes and imposing marble statues, carved over the centuries by Atlantean artists dating as far back as the time of King Atlas himself. She's been in there a few times before, and always found herself afraid and claustrophobic. She hadn't set out to go that far into the gardens with Skye and Juno to begin with.

"Oh, no. Skye…" she groans under her breath, dashing as fast as her legs will take her through the archway and into the maze.

She feels a chill run down her spine, bypassing the layers of fabric draped over her bony figure and seeping into her blood, causing her muscles to feel languid and heavy. She slows to a walk, trying not to make eye contact with the marble titans around her.

"Skye? Skye!" she calls out.

She can't help but feel like the atmosphere has abruptly darkened; it's like even the sun won't visit this portion of the garden. She's heard rumors that her mother's sister, Kilyn, having hid in this labyrinth before being caught by the guards and executed. Kilyn was the witch that nearly killed her during her birth by setting the fire that resulted in her mother's infertility and Kriss's own chronic illness.

She folds her arms over her chest and glances up at a statue of Neptune, leaning casually against his trident, while puffing up his chest and letting what little light is filtering into the maze ricochet off his rippling chest. He seems to be looking down, almost in pity. She knows that this man -this god -is her great grandfather, regardless of how many "greats" ago that was.

Perhaps he can see her looking for Skye. Perhaps he's seen Skye. Her father tells her that Neptune is still watching over them even now. So, shutting her eyes and kneeling before the statue, she quietly prays.

"Grandfather, please help me find Skye so I don't have to stay in this maze. Please! Please!"

She lifts one of her eyelids to sneak a glance at Neptune's stone face, looking into his cold, lifeless eyes and trying to find some sort of reassurement. Her living grandfather, Ironheart, has the most loving eyes in Atlantis. Not sad, like her mother's, or grim, like her father's. Ironheart makes her feel like she could save Atlantis, illness or no illness. Neptune doesn't have those eyes; his eyes are dark and made of ancient marble.

She sighs and shakes her head, rising to her feet and longing for the warmth of the sun again on her arms. Skye doesn't leave the palace much, as it's her job to watch over the princess, but Kriss never realized she has been this restless.

"Come back, Skye!"

She hears a rustle in the bushes and feels the life come back to her legs, propelling her towards the sound. She then hears a low woof, followed by the familiar patter of footsteps as Skye casually strolls towards Kriss, a victorious look in her eyes.

Kriss collapses onto her wolf and holds her, burying her face in her neck. "Never disappear like that again, girl, alright?"

Skye whines and pushes her nose into Kriss's neck, covering her neck and cheek with wet kisses until the girl giggles and pushes her away.

"Wait," Kriss says, straightening up and noting that something is missing from the wolf's back. "Where's Juno?"

Skye cocks her head to the side in confusion, whining quietly.

"Skye! Where's Juno!" Kriss insists, her heart dropping out of her chest and onto the ground. She tears her eyes away from Skye and looks around the maze as if Juno would just pop out, giggling the way that she does and hobble with that bow legged gait that all toddlers have into her arms.

She glares at the statue of Neptune and then at Skye, who looks back with sad eyes, unsure of what she did wrong. Of course she doesn't know what she did wrong! Kriss has been riding on Skye's back since she was a toddler and she's always trusted Skye to never leave her behind. She's also been training her to take care of Juno since the babe's birth. Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

"Juno!" she hollers into the maze, running blindly deeper into the maze without even thinking. "Juno, where are you!"

How can she possibly tell the goddess that she'd lost her daughter?

[Soundtrack: Piano Etude II - Rule of Rose]

Five years ago, Luna was dead. Today, she's experiencing death once again. She feels her hand shiver in her husband's own calloused hands. Hermos lets her dig her nails into his palms and twist his fingers between her own. The porcelain mask on her face hides unblinking, bloodshot eyes and trembling lips.

"I'm sorry!" Kriss squeaks, bowing so low that her head is touching the ground. "I'll find her. I'm so sorry!"

Luna's throat is too tight to let sound pass through her lips, so Hermos takes over for her. "It's not your fault, your highness."

Kriss's eyes widen when she sees her mother's dark glower behind Luna. Iona's inky black hair is laid down over one shoulder and her eyes are lined with kohl. She looks like she's holding a torrent deep in her chest that could total a city.

"We -We should cancel my coming-of-age -" Despair burrows into Kriss's joints and fills her head with tar-like black smoke. Her lungs begin to fold in on themselves and her chest moves rapidly up and down, trying to force them to suck in air.

"K-Kriss!" Luna's voice pierces through her throat. She breaks away from her husband and pulls the princess towards her. "It's alright. You need to breathe." She throws her mask to the side, hearing it shatter against the stone floor and forces Kriss to look at her. "Kriss, take a deep breath."

Iona's face is a hard mask as she drops her hands to her sides and walks towards the door out of Luna's chambers. Facing away from the goddess, she says, "I've already sent out the guard to look for Juno. If we cancel the celebration, everyone will know something is wrong. It may be more of a risk to Juno's safety if the knowledge that she's missing is made public."

Breathing still feels foreign to Kriss, but her lungs seem to be working again. She slows her breathing as much as she can, gaze still trained towards Luna, but her mother lingers in her peripherals.

"It's gotta be someone from the palace," Kriss says quietly. "Skye was watching her and she'd never let Juno out of her sight unless someone she trusted took her. It has to be someone Skye trusts."

Luna nods slowly, her eyes never leaving Kriss. "Thank you, Kriss."

"Come now, Kriss. You shouldn't bother the goddess any longer. You've caused enough trouble for one day," Iona calls out.

Kriss blushes and steps away from Luna, whose sad, brown eyes are still calmly on her. "Right away, mother."

[Soundtrack: Empress of Fire (Instrumental) - Dragon Age: Inquisition]

The evening brings festivities the Atlas Citadel hasn't seen in years. Stained glass lanterns are hanging from the trees and foreigners in beautifully woven cloth are dancing to the upbeat melodies played by the court musicians. The wind carries the heavy scents of Libyan spices and roses.

Technically, prostitutes are not permitted to work nights like these, but even the royals can't deny their guests such proclivities. As such, Rayan along with her girls and boys make a killing during grand celebrations such as this. They're easily identifiable by their light, almost transparent, robes and the beautiful and ornate laurels woven into their hair.

Shadow can't help but ogle a bit at the way the escorts danced through the crowd, tossing flower petals and whispering in the ears of the people whose eyes lingered just a touch longer than everyone else. He's engaged in their services before himself, which Rayan offers him at a great discount. However, tonight is all business -at least for himself and his spies.

The spies blend into the crowd for the most part, unless you know what to look for. Shadow has personally marked each one of his people and eyes them cautiously as he leisurely strolls through the market, smiling at a young merchant girl, brown face dotted with freckles. She speaks to him with her foreign tongue, holding up beautiful handmade robes that he knows he couldn't possibly afford. Still… A pretty girl like her… He decides he'd revisit her booth when the night dies down. Perhaps he can persuade her to offer him more than just fabrics.

As he nears the end of the market, he spots a gathering of the palace guard near the garden maze -too many for a party like this. It seems like the palace is expecting trouble… And he wants to be there.

With his mind formulating a strategy to get past the guards, he nearly misses the gentle tap on his shoulder. He turns and finds a familiar face, perhaps a bit more mature than he remembers it. Luna's once girlish eyes are narrow and anxious; her once soft lips are dry and taut. She's not wearing her mask, he notes, which means that she's not supposed to be here either.

"Shadow, I need you to tell me you didn't do this," she hisses.

"Do what?"

"My daughter…" It is then that he notices that the shiver in her voice isn't rage, but fear. She's terrified.

"What happened to her?"

"She's gone. Please tell me it wasn't you or your people and I won't tell the guard that the festival is packed with your spies." Her threat doesn't hold much weight behind it, however. She doesn't mean it.

Shadow sighs, his brow furrowing in frustration. "That's why there's extra guards working. Your girl's been taken? Well, I don't know anything about it."

"You're telling the truth?" she insists.

"Would I lie to you, your worship?" He leans into her.

"I'm serious," she snaps, taking a step back. "Your spies… Could you ask them to… Would it be too much to ask if…"

He straightens up and rubs his face. "You want us to help you find her?"

"Yes, if -"

"Fine. I'll talk to the escorts, too."

"You will?"

"I'm not a complete monster, Luna. I don't wanna see your kid get hurt." He can hear his internal monologue scoff at that statement.

"Thank you," she says hoarsely, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it in gratitude. "I won't forget this." With that, she runs off.

When Rayan dashes to him, whitefaced, he nearly forgets Luna's words. "Shadow, you need to come with us."

"What is it?" he asks, spotting Evren nearby with a look on her face that is so morose that he scarcely recognized her.

"It's something not of this world," she says, pulling him by the hand and taking him to an abandoned area of the garden.

The lack of light makes his reactions sluggish, but when he realizes what Rayan had meant to show him, his bones nearly leap out of his skin. It's definitely not of this world. What lays before him is a creature with short grey fur, nearly as big as a horse but with humanoid extremities. Its fur is stained maroon and he can see blood pooling around it.

"This thing was a man," Rayan explains. "He tried to force himself on me and when Evren stepped in, he turned into this… thing."

He's heard of spirits inhabiting the more remote towns outside of the capital. Many of them are repulsed by the power of the Orichalcos that King Dartz had taken to using in order to rebuild his Citadel. Of course, anyone with a sane mind who's heard the story of the original Shadow Queen would be rightly worried about widespread use of Orichalcos. Looks like Dartz didn't get the memo, though.

This thing, however, is definitely not a spirit. Spirits never get violent and they normally disappear when they die, returning to the Inbetween. There isn't a doubt in Shadow's mind that this is just a normal man corrupted by the Orichalcos. He grunts and frowns. So they're closer to the destruction of Atlantis than he thought.

"What should we do?" Evren asks.

"Leave it for the guards to find," he says. "I have another job for you two."

[Soundtrack: Forgive Me - Game of Thrones]

Ironheart sighs heavily as he looks down on yet another corpse, hidden away in one of the darker corners of the garden maze. His guards have been turning up dead in their search for the goddess's daughter, Juno, and there have been absolutely no clues as to who or what is causing these deaths. At this rate, his predictions for the young girl's fate grow more and more grim.

"My Lord," a solemn voice interrupts his thoughts, as one of the three legendary knights, Critias, steps up to speak to him. He holds out a long clear shard of crystal, as long as his forearm, its tip covered in blood. "We found this piece of Orichalcos growing out of the ground. One of your men had been impaled on it."

With a grumble, Ironheart says, "There's dark magic here. I should never have let Dartz get his hands on those blasted crystals."

A scout approaches the two, his shoulders tense and his pace hesitant. "Your majesty. Th-They're requesting your presence for the lighting of the great flame."

Ironheart's gaze burns through the poor boy's head before he simply nods and places a hand on Critias's shoulder. "I cannot let Kriss do this alone. It has been a difficult day for her. I trust you will keep an eye on things, Critias?"

"Of course, my Lord." Critias bows.

Ironheart promptly follows the scout through the maze and back out into the open bazaar area. The general populace have been cleared to the sides of the courtyard, allowing room for a mound of wood as large as a small cottage, covered by a white cloth, to be placed in the center of the courtyard.

He finds Kriss's small figure standing between her mother and father, holding a torch nearly as tall as she is. Her face lights up when she sees him and he offers her a warm smile in return as he takes his place next to his son.

"Have you found anything, father?" Dartz asks under his breath.

"The Orichalcos is spreading… like rot. There's something dark in that garden."

Dartz elects to ignore the sharp tone his father had taken with him. "We should find Juno quickly then, shouldn't we?"

One of the high priests begins to recite the traditional rites, as they were said for Dartz before her, and Ironheart before him. Neither of them looked quite so miniscule as Kriss did, due in no small part to her illness.

When the rites are finished, Dartz reaches for his daughter's hand and begins to lead her to the mound of wood. "Make a prayer, dearest," he whispers to her. "Wish for whatever your heart desires."

Kriss inhales deeply, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I pray we find Juno soon…" she says, lowering her torch to the flammable cloth, which lights up immediately.

The flame moves slowly at first, but then, as the mound picks up heat, the flame catches on quicker, spreading faster along the mound. Kriss finds the sight mesmerizing. How curious that, by simply lighting a flame, she's now a woman, capable of running the entirety of Atlantis if she ever has to.

That's when they hear it. At first, it sounds like a ghost, a trick of the wind. It's just a quiet moan. They're ready to disregard it when they hear another moan, louder this time, and then another.

"What in Neptune's name…" Dartz curses under his breath.

After that, the screaming starts. That's how they know it's coming from the mound itself.

Surprisingly, Kriss is the first to leap into action, thoughtlessly dashing to the pyre to pull off the flaming cloth with her bare hands. "Kriss, no!" Iona cries, grasping her daughter by the shoulders at the last moment.

Thinking quickly, Ironheart unsheathes his sword and tears the cloth off. The fire dies out as the cloth hits the ground. The flames have already gotten beneath the cloth and set the wood aflame, however, and in their brightness, he can barely see what's underneath; the scent of burning flesh is what gives it away.

"Gather dirt! Water! Anything you can find to put out the flame!" Ironheart barks at the guards, servants, and even the attendees. It's strictly taboo to put out the ceremonial flame before it burns itself out, but these are exceptional circumstances. "Hurry!"

Several members of the crowd do not hesitate to dash off in search of anything that could put the flame out. The courtyard is in chaos.

Iona pulls Kriss away from the flames, for fear that the smoke and scent would cause her illness to act out. She expects Kriss to put up a fight, but the girl is limp in her hands, unconscious due to shock or smoke inhalation -it's hard to tell. "Healer!" she cries out. "Healer!"

The screaming begins to die down and Ironheart stops for a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat off his brow. By the time the flame has died down to mere embers, he knows it's too late. It's still too hot to reach into the ashes and find out who or what had been burning, but he catches sight of something glittering on the floor by his foot and reaches down to pick it up. It's hot and parts of it have melted, but there's no mistake. He's holding the remains of what had once been a beautiful ornate brooch with a single glittering Orichalcos crystal embedded in the center.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a mother, face twisted in horror, as her worst fears have just been realized. She drops to her knees and lets out an inhuman howl.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I hate me, too.

If you've seen Game of Thrones, tho, you prolly should have seen this coming.