Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #34: Azra Guile…]

Log Date: 1/1/12765

Data Sources: Lysanne Arrignis, Jazel Jaskolka

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Rayet Regional Starport: Gate 51

11:36am SGT

“I have to admit, I’m a little concerned about the number of worlds we’ve visited recently that just allow you to bring the wildest stuff planetside without so much as a raised eyebrow.” I murmur to Dandy as I pull my backpack on.

“It’s only been two planets. Laiquedux, and here on Balmorrah.” Dandy points out as she slots a fresh power cell into her stunner rifle. “Neither of them are Colloquium worlds. Ranter colonies tend to be relaxed with import and export controls, and Balmorrah is a black market world. So long as business is conducted with minimal disruption to the planet’s infrastructure, the planet’s ruling powers do not care what people bring to the surface.”

“Still, it’s just wild to me.” I say, peering down the ramp of the skipper at the tarmac outside. “That you can just show up at the starport, fully armed, and they’ll let you through into the city, no questions asked.”

“Milor said there was a kiosk inside the starport that sold armaments, and he was going to go see if he could pick up a few grenades since procurement at CURSE won’t let us stock them.” Dandy says, slinging her stunner rifle across her back.

I stare at her. “You’re joking, right? That’s a joke?”

“I checked the galaxynet, and it does appear, at least from pictures posted online, that Balmorrah starports have vending machines and kiosks that sell firearms, ammunition, and other small-scale armaments.” Dandy says, tucking a spare power cell into her jacket. “They must be profitable, if they are a consistent fixture.”

“That’s just insane.” I say, shaking my head as I pick up my rocket launcher and sling it across my shoulder. “But then again, here I am, about to walk out onto the tarmac with a rocket launcher in hand, so I don’t suppose I’ve got much room to talk…”

“On the bright side, we don’t have to go through the hassle of filling out declaration forms for all of our weapons, and submitting a mission profile to the local government.” Dandy points out. “It may be a minor benefit, but the absence of red tape has certainly helped speed things along.”

“Cold comfort, considering we’re about to step into a place where everyone’s probably armed to the gills.” I say, starting down the ramp of the skipper, the pausing and glancing back. “Oh, I almost forgot. Wake up Ozzy, let him know that he’ll need to watch the skipper until we get back.”

Dandy walks back into the skipper’s passenger cabin, and then after a minute returns to the loading bay, joining me on the ramp. “He’s awake, and he’ll close up the ramp after we are gone. He wished us good luck and said that we could give him a call if we got in hot water.”

“Can’t say I blame him, considering Medukat’s supposed to be here.” I say, clomping down the ramp and out onto the tarmac. “All of this makes me uneasy, Dandy. Getting help from a Raven, chasing a cult out here to Balmorrah… I feel like other Preservers would have a conniption if they heard about what we’re doing.”

“Our circumstances are unusual, and so they demand unusual action.” Dandy says, following me out as we make our way across the tarmac. Far beyond the starport’s borders, you can see the jagged black rocks that make up most of Balmorrah’s surface. “It is true that Preservers would not normally be undertaking these kinds of efforts, but placed in the context of the situation we find ourselves in, they are not unreasonable. I think others will see that, if the factors of our situation are explained to them.”

“It still feels wrong.” I say, reaching up to catch my hair as the wind whips it about. The sky above is filled with dark grey clouds that frequently dominate Balmorrah’s atmosphere, and I can hear the rumble of distant thunder. It’s a harsh, unforgiving world, probably similar to the type of people that usually frequent it. “Something just doesn’t feel right about all of this, about how we ended up here.”

“I assume you are referring to Jazel and Milor’s visit to Charisto?” Dandy says as we pass into the terminal’s shadow, and start up a flight of stairs leading up to the gate.

“Something about it just feels off.” I say, pulling the door open and stepping into the terminal. “I know they explained it, but I’m still struggling to wrap my head around them killing one of the Four Ravens. That’s not something… like, you expect a Vaunted strike team to do something like that, or a squad of CURSE Peacekeepers. Not Jazel and Milor.”

“You don’t think they’re capable of something like that?” Dandy says as we make our way past rows of empty chairs. Most of the terminal is empty, with only a few people waiting for flights, and only a few people walking down the main thoroughfare.

“MIlor and Jazel are capable, in their own way. But I assumed that one of the Four Ravens, a black market baron, would be more capable. That he’d surround himself with people that would protect him, and that he himself would be capable in his own right.” I say, struggling to explain my suspicions. “I figured it would take more than just a fluffhuffing witch and a hungover deputy to kill someone that runs various criminal enterprises across the galaxy, y’know? No offense to Jazel and Milor, but killing one of the Four Ravens just seems like it should be out of their league.”

“As I understand it, it wasn’t their first choice. They only resorted to violence when Paguayan refused to assist them, and then tried to dispose of them.” Dandy points out. “Perhaps Paguayan was caught off guard, and the two of them retaliated harder than he was expecting.”

“But it seems less likely that they would’ve killed him in self-defense. I figured you would try non-lethal before resorting to lethal methods.” I say, shaking my head. “Although, with the way Jazel’s been, I could imagine him going straight for the kill, even in self-defense. Still, you figure one of the Four Ravens would be ready for something like that, with the kind of work they do…”

“Whatever the case, we cannot change what Jazel and Milor did. We are here now, with the intel we need to rescue Kayenta, so we should focus on that.” Dandy says. “Once we’ve rescued her, we can leave and go back to normalcy. Return to low-intensity assignments and pest control for a while.”

“I hope so.” I say as we cross through the hub that leads back into the starport proper, and head down an escalator. “I’m getting mighty tired of this. Running back and forth across the galaxy trying to rescue members of our crew. I mean, it’s not like we’re out here, looking for trouble — we’re just trying to do our jobs, and people just keep trying to kidnap us.”

“It does seem rather unfair.” Dandy agrees as we reach the bottom of the escalator, and start towards along the wide hall that leads to the food court within the starport. “Perhaps, once we are done with all this, we should ask CURSE to perform a profile assessment and see if there is an increased risk for us, relative to other civilian contractors.”

“Anything to get these soul-sucking sorcerers and cultist crackpots to stop bothering us.” I say as we enter the food court, and slowing down when I see Milor and Jazel standing near one of the tables, flanked by a couple of burly orcs in business suits. “Oh gods. I hope they aren’t already getting themselves in trouble. That’s the last thing we need right now…”

“They don’t appear to be distressed, so I don’t think they are.” Dandy says. “Let’s not approach too quickly. We don’t want to alarm whoever they may be talking to.”

I slow my stride accordingly, but once we get near the table, one of the orcs steps over, holding a hand out to block us. Noticing the motion, Milor turns his head and tilts the brim of his hat up a little, taking his toothpick out of his mouth when he sees us. “It’s okay, lads. Those two are with us.” he says.

The orc that blocked us looks over his shoulder, as if checking with someone else, then steps out of the way. The table comes into view, and something that looks like a catbed sits upon it, with a tiny little bat sitting in it, eating a tiny little burrito. It’s Medukat, and behind him is Jawny, his consigliere. Off to the side is an elf in a butler’s uniform, a towel folded over his arm as he waits Medukat’s orders.

“Ah yes. It’s the sensible one.” he says in his impressively deep baritone, motioning his tiny burrito to me. “I remember you. You had a better head on your shoulders than your witch friend did. Although, to his credit, he keeps a more open mind than you.”

“Medukat.” I say tersely, coming to a stop near Jazel and Milor. “I hear you were the one that provided us with the intel on the Daughters of Azra. Thank you for the assistance.”

“Yes, well. The witchling didn’t exactly give me a choice.” Medukat says, his pale red eyes glaring towards Jazel, who’s got his witch cloak on, the hood pulled up over his head. “I have decided to let it slide because we are in strange times, and I have had some benefit out of his actions already. But do not expect it to be a continuing arrangement; you all are still Preservers, and I am… a facilitator of capitalism and free trade.”

“We have no desire to trouble you more than we already have.” Jazel says. “I just want my fox back. Once I have her back, we will happily keep to ourselves once more.”

Medukat flicks one of his long ears. “This morphox must be quite the catch if you’re willing to murder a Raven and a lodge full of his staff, and throw the black market into chaos, just to get her back. Truly, I am impressed, and so is Jawny. We both agreed that this is a degree of dedication we’ve not seen before. A woman can drive a man crazy, but turning him into a mass-murdering maniac? Her bedroom performance must be exceptional to warrant such vehement commitment.”

I narrow my eyes at the mention of a lodge full of staff being murdered, and glance to Milor, only to find him shaking his head at me. He’s telling me that now’s not the time to ask questions, but I’m definitely gonna have questions later.

“When I was kidnapped by Grimes, she came for me, and did not let anything get in the way of rescuing me.” Jazel replies to Medukat. “I owe her the same loyalty.”

“Mmm.” Medukat says, taking a bite of his burrito. “Well, if there’s something I can respect, it’s loyalty, and the repayment of debts. Such things carry weight in this industry. Make no mistake, little witchling, you’re a pain in my ass, and a good number of people in the black market are going to have an axe to grind with you, after what you did to Paguayan and his people. But you are willing to spill blood and burn bridges to pay a debt, and I respect that. And I respect how committed you are to it. Not many people show that kind of loyalty nowadays.”

I tilt my head a little, noticing the interior lining of Medukat’s catbed has a silver, furry look to it, and I realize that it’s trimmed with the tail that he cut off of Kayenta during our last altercation. Medukat, noticing my stare, runs one of his tiny little hands around the rim of his catbed. “I needed a new bed after you all destroyed my last one when you trashed Rock Bottoms. Since that feisty little fox left one of her tails behind, I figured I may as well put it to use. No point in letting a luxury item like a morphox tail go to waste.”

“For the record, a tail from a nine-tailed morphox would fetch an incredible sum on the black market.” Jawny adds at this point, glaring at us. “You should consider yourselves honored that we decided to keep it as a trophy instead.”

“How flattering.” I say with a decidedly flat tone, glancing at Jazel. If seeing Kayenta’s tail used as a catbed lining bothers him, he isn’t showing it. I do know that Kayenta was able to grow back her lost tail by chugging a few vials of soul that we recovered from Grimes’ lab, so perhaps he isn’t too tilted by it. “If there’s nothing else, we’ll be going now. We have a morphox to rescue.”

“By all means. Don’t let me keep you.” Medukat says, waving us along with a wing. “Run along and have fun on your little rescue mission. Try not to make as much of a mess as you did when you dealt with Grimes.”

Jazel’s already turning and heading for the other side of the courtyard without a farewell, leaving the rest of us to hurry after him. I fall in next to Milor, and only when we’ve gotten some distance from Medukat and his retinue do I murmur to Milor. “Something doesn’t feel right. That was too easy.” I say, glancing back over my shoulder at them.

“Something’s off, yeah. Razor let us go too easily.” Milor mutters around his toothpick. “He provided us with the location of the cult’s HQ and where they’d taken Kaya, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he also warned the cultists that we were coming. Tryin’ to play both sides of the issue so that no matter who comes out on top, he’s on good footing with the survivor.”

“Do you think him and his people will try to finish off whoever survives the encounter?” I ask as we leave the food court and start down another escalator to the starport’s arrivals and checkin area.

“No. Not unless he feels that they would be a threat to him or his operation in the future.” Milor replies, checking the inside of his duster, and the spare plasma cells that are tucked into his interior pockets. “We should go carefully, though. If Razor told the Daughters of Azra that we’re coming, we might be facing opposition from the moment we set foot on their compound. We won’t have the element of surprise on our side, and we may have to fight for every step we take.”

“I have a couple of invisibility spells prepared.” Jazel says as he steps off the escalator ahead of us. “If we encounter resistance, I’ll use them to get in close and break their defenses.”

“That’s good to hear. Just make sure you’re keeping us looped in, so the rest of us can plan around it.” Milor says. “I don’t want anyone running off doing solo heroics. This isn’t the world or the mission to be pullin’ that shit. We stay together, we plan together, we act together. That goes for everyone; is that understood?”

Dandy and I both murmur our agreements, and Jazel faintly ekes out something that sounds like a lukewarm assent. Not much else is said as we cross the lobby of the starport, heading towards the front doors. After all the chasing we’ve done, we’re finally here at the end of the pursuit.

Once we get through this and rescue Kayenta, we can go back home to the Drift, and back to some semblance of normalcy.

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Skies of Balmorrah

1:44pm SGT

“There is not much information available on the compound.” Dandy says, swiping over a data slate. We’re currently sitting in the cargo bay of an armored skipper, cruising through the skies of Balmorrah. With Balmorrah being a black market world, there were plenty of mercenaries and smugglers looking for work, and Milor had managed to find one that would be willing to do a transport run for the right price. “Medukat was able to provide the location and some exterior photos, but that was it. Balmorrah doesn’t have much in the way of regulations or public records, so there were no resources I could obtain on that front either.”

“So we’re pretty much going in blind?” Lysanne says, checking her phase lantern.

“Not entirely. I was able to do some research, and make some extrapolations about the compound based off of what I was able to find.” Dandy says, tilting the data slate so we can all see the pictures of the compound — what looks to be a property tucked in amid the slanted spurs of black rock that typically dominate Balmorrah’s surface terrain. “Based off the observable entrances and building placement, I suspect most of the structure is actually subterranean, and what we see on the surface are just entry points. Just as with Grimes’ lab, we will not know the layout, so we do not have a specific route we will be following — we will need to clear the compound room by room, hall by hall, until we have located Kayenta.”

“Kid, didn’t you create something to help with that?” Milor says as he slots an aftermarket plasma cell into his shotgun.

“I created a compass, yes.” I say, reaching into my cloak and pulling out a sealed petri dish that’s sterilized and empty, save for the many pieces of silver fur I’d collected from around my room — the remnants of Kayenta’s presence. A spell circle’s been printed onto both sides of the dish, providing the mechanism to turn the sealed dish into a makeshift compass. “It’s not working, though, so either I screwed it up, or they’re masking Kaya’s presence the same way Grimes masked my presence from Kaya.”

“If that’s the case, the compass should begin working once we get within the perimeter of the magical wards concealing her presence.” Lysanne says. “Kaya was able to track you down once we got inside Grimes’ lab. The compass should hopefully start working once we get inside the cultists’ compound, assuming that the concealing ward is on the compound’s exterior.”

“And what will it look like once it’s working?” Milor asks, checking his plasma pistol next.

“It’s simple. All the fur will move in the direction that Kaya’s in.” I say, tucking the compass back into my cloak. “We just follow the direction it points in, and we’ll find Kaya.”

“Yeah, well. You forgot the part where there might be some cultists between us and her.” Milor says. “If the compass works when we get in, we’ll follow it, but it doesn’t mean we can let our guard down. We’ll probably have to fight out way through a few obstacles on the way there.”

“If they get in our way, then we’ll go through them.” I say, tapping my left hand to bring my grimoire to life. “I’ll kill as many as it takes to get to her.”

“Keep in mind that the Daughters of Azra are cultists.” Dandy states. “This will not be like Grimes and his elves. His subordinates were motivated by money, but presumably little else. That will not be the case with the cultists — often they are driven by fanaticism or religious fervor. It will be harder to reason with them if we attempt to do so, and they will be less likely to give up or back down from a fight.”

“If they want to forfeit their lives, they are free to do so.” I say without taking my eyes off the pentafractal depths of my grimoire. “If they believe in their cult strongly enough to die for it, I will be more than happy to accommodate them.”

Milor gives me a sidelong look. “Damn, kid. You sound downright villainous, throwin’ ice-cold lines like that.”

“The point of this trip is to rescue Kaya, not get revenge.” Lysanne says. “Once we’ve rescued Kaya, we get out and go home. We’ve already done enough damage and made enough enemies in the last month.”

I don’t say anything to that, remaining quiet. Lysanne’s right; the point of the trip was to rescue Kaya. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get revenge at the same time.

“We’ll save Kaya. And if the cultists resist, we’ll spill blood too. No reason we can’t do both at the same time.” Milor says, holstering his pistol. “But whatever we do, we’re gonna be smart about it, and we do it together.”

He says it with a sort of finality that closes out any further discussion, and none of us try to push it any further. It leaves only the dull roar of the ship’s external thrusters, humming through the hull as we barrel on towards our destination. Closing my hand, I pull my cloak back about myself, wreathing myself in its shroud once more. At this point, there was only one thing left to do:

Breach the compound, and get my fox back.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Balmorrah: DOA Compound

3:40pm SGT

“This is gonna be a hell of a trip back.” I grunt, hauling myself up over another rock shelf. We’re hiking up the side of this rockspur to reach the compound, and it’s a steep affair that’s starting to leave me out of breath.

“Pilot didn’t want to land any closer.” Milor grunts from behind me. “Didn’t wanna risk any damage to his skipper.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of having an armored skipper? Being able to shrug off damage?” I pant, getting to my feet and walking along the shelf. “At least we’re almost there. Another fifty feet and we’ll be at the walls.”

“The turrets on the walls do not appear to have responded to our approach, so I assume they are only intended for anti-air deterrence.” Dandy says as she easily hauls herself up on the rock shelf. “So long as we enter on foot and depart on foot, I don’t believe we’ll have to worry about them.”

“Fantastic. Let’s talk and walk at the same time; the kid’s already halfway there, and I’d rather not have him be the pace-setter for this mission.” Milor puffs, walking past us. Up ahead, Jazel’s already clambering up the final stretch of black rocks leading up to the compound’s walls.

I take a deep breath, and start after them with Dandy following. In another few minutes, we’re at the walls of the compound, which look like they were never intended for ground entrance; there’s no exterior gate that will lead inside. Reaching back, I pull my phase lantern off my backpack, and tug my flint out of my pocket. “Walls are too smooth to be scaled. I’ll get my lantern fired up and we can just walk right through, but I’m not sure what we’re gonna encounter on the other side, so you all should probably get geared up.”

“Sounds about right.” Milor says, drawing his plasma pistol and turning it on. “Strawberry soda, your pulse rifle’s got the longest effective range, so we should prolly have you on point for now. Once we get inside the compound itself, I’ll take point with my plasma shotgun. I assume we’re probably going to be dealing with short distances and hallways, so it’ll be perfect for it.”

“Understood.” Dandy says, pulling her stunner rifle off her shoulder and powering it on while I start striking my flint against the ribs of the lantern. “I assume that unless otherwise indicated, we are currently operating on a ‘shoot first, questions later’ approach?”

“Pretty much, unless you see something that you obviously shouldn’t shoot at.” Milor says as Jazel pulls a spell sphere from his grimoire, and lets it pop. Five dark blue wisps spiral out around him, settling into a narrow orbit around his shoulders, and Milor notices. “What’s that?”

“Somnatic Compulsion of the Fifth Order.” Jazel says, and then when Milor gives him a blank look, Jazel explains. “It puts someone to sleep when you hit them with a wisp. If they have high magical resistance, then it may take a second wisp to put them down.”

“Huh.” Milor says. “That’s surprisingly… humane of you.”

“I’m only using it because I’m saving my high-caliber spells for later.” he says, tugging his hood a little further over his head.

“Alright, here we go.” I say as the wick in the lantern catches, burning a sorcerous green. Picking up the lantern, I move to the wall, its green light turning the stone transparent and penetrating deeper and deeper into the wall until we can see through to the other side. A wide open space is visible within, composed of a landing pad and an open court, and most of the surface buildings tucked up against the sides of the rockspur’s cleft. There’s only two people out in the courtyard, both of them in the red coats that the cultists wear; one of them appears to be standing guard in front of one of the buildings, while the other is crossing from one building to another.

“Dandy.” I murmur, and she nods, moving through the phased portion of the wall, lifting her stunner rifle and firing two shots at each of the visible cultists, Milor is quick to move through after her, as is Jazel, and I’m the last through, careful to make sure all of my limbs are through before pulling the lantern away from the wall.

“That one’s got a shield, bring them down!” I hear Milor hiss, and I turn around to see one of the two cultists is fleeing back towards one of the buildings, with hints of an orange sphere flaring around them. Both Dandy and Milor loose a barrage of shots at the cultist, and the orange shield flares a couple more times before shattering, the remaining shots nailing them in the back and dropping them to the ground just short of the door they were running towards. Milor lowers his pistol and starts to hurry across the courtyard towards the fallen cultists, with Dandy and Jazel quick behind, and me struggling to keep up.

“Are we bothering to hide the bodies?” Dandy asks as Milor crouches down next to the one closest to the building, feeling it over until he comes up with a small, nib-like access key.

“If we knew that we could take our time with this, but that’s not guaranteed. Leave the bodies and keep moving.” Milor says, pocketing the nib and heading over to the door that the cultist had been trying to reach. “Blondie, over here. Lantern, if you could. I grabbed one of their access keys as a backup, but I’d prefer to get through these doors without triggering the access pads, since the security system usually logs an event every time you do so.”

I hurry over, holding the lantern up to the door so the minty light will phase it. Once it does, Milor slips through, holstering his pistol and pulling his shotgun off his back while the rest of us follow in after him. Within, the halls of the compound look like a weak effort was made to make them more inviting; drywall’s been put up to hide the dark rock that likely makes up the tunnel, but the beige environs have almost no decoration aside from the lights lining the ceiling.

“Is that compass picking anything up, kid?” Milor asks as he leads the way down the hall, shotgun held level before him.

Jazel reaches into his cloak, pulling out the petri dish and looking it over. “Not yet. We’re probably still outside the ward’s perimeter; we’ll have to go further down.”

“Well, this hall is definitely headed down.” Milor says. “Blondie, you keep an eye on the rear there, make sure we aren’t getting snuck up on. If that compass start giving you any clues, let me know, kid.”

“Understood.” Jazel says as he come to a fork in the hall. Milor takes the left turn, all of us filing after him, and I make sure to check over my shoulder every so often to ensure nobody is sneaking up on us from the right turn behind us.

We proceed further into the compound in this manner, staying quiet and tense in hallways that always seem to slant downwards ever so slightly. I keep expecting that we’ll run into someone as we go, but we don’t, and the longer we go without running into someone, the more concerned I get. Encountering no resistance is almost worse than encountering resistance — it feels like something is off, not quite right.

“Milor. It’s working.” Jazel says a few minutes in. Milor stops and glances over his shoulder; Jazel is holding up the petri dish, where all of Kayenta’s fur has collected in a single direction, pressing against the side of the sealed dish. “Keep going. I’ll give you directions as we go.”

“Good, I was startin’ to get worried. This place is bigger than I was expecting.” Milor says as he starts moving forward again. “I’m glad we haven’t run into any more cultists, but I’m worried as well. I’m hoping the reason we haven’t seen many is because there aren’t a lot here to begin with.”

“That, or the ritual they’re planning on requires their attendance.” Dandy murmurs.

“Yeah, that’s the other thing I was afraid of.” Milor says.

“Left at the next split.” Jazel says. “We still need to head down, based on the tilt of the compass.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Milor says, slowing down before checking around the next corner, then stepping into the left split. “We just reached a stairwell. Goes down two or three flights, from what I can see.”

I glance over my shoulder again. “There’s been no one behind us, at least as far as I can tell. I hope this doesn’t end up being a trap.”

“The longer we go without running into anyone, the more I’m starting to think it is.” Milor says as he starts down the spiral staircase, shotgun leveled. “Next time I see Razor, I’m gonna dunk him in his own whiskey if I find out he tipped off the Daughters. Ain’t no damn reason for that. This was already gonna be hard enough as it was, four of us taking on an entire compound of cultists.”

“Perhaps he assumed it would be easy for us, after how we dealt with Paguayan.” Jazel says, his eyes still on the compass.

“That was different. Paguayan didn’t know that we were comin’, and didn’t know what you were capable of.” Milor replies as we get closer to the bottom floor. “The Daughters might know we’re comin’, and if they do, then Razor prolly also told them what you did to Paguayan.”

“Yeah, about that.” I say. “You two wanna tell us exactly what happened on that trip? ‘Cause it sounds a little different from what you told us when you got back on the ship.”

“Paguayan refused to help us, and he didn’t plan on letting us leave the lodge alive.” Jazel replies without looking around at me. “We did what we had to in order to survive, and made sure that he would not be a problem in the future.”

“Sounds to me like you went a bit further than that.” I say, pressing the topic as we arrive to the bottom floor. “Medukat said you murdered a lodge full of Paguayan’s staff. What was that all about?”

Jazel shrugs. “We killed Paguayan. His staff just happened to be in the same area where he got killed.”

“Now hold on just one second, kid.” Milor says as the bottom of the stairwell opens into a long hall leading to a set of double doors. “We didn’t kill Paguayan. You killed Paguayan. Hell, I barely got to do bugger-all during that trip.”

“What do you mean, ‘his staff just happened to be in the same area as him’?” I demand. “Oh my god, Jazel… did you use an area-of-effect spell? And what the hell kind of AoE spell can kill an entire lodge full of people? It can’t be a legal spell, that kind of mass lethality would be military-grade magic!”

“I did what I had to. If we’d left him alive, he’d still be chasing us now.” Jazel replies coldly, following Milor down the hall. “I also needed to send a message to the other three Ravens and let them know what would happen if they did not comply. And it worked; we got the intel we needed, and we are here now.”

“Yeah, and at what cost?” I point out. “How many people did you kill and how many enemies did we make to get here? I want to be able live a quiet life after this, not have a mark on my head that the underworld is gonna want to cash in on!”

“There are valid points to be made on both sides; however, this is not the time for this conversation.” Dandy interjects at this point. “The fallout of the actions that led us here can be discussed later. Right now, everyone’s attention should be on the present, and on our surroundings. Being distracted may very well get us killed if we are ambushed.”

“Dandy’s got the right idea. We can save the moral debates for later.” Milor says, slowing down as we reach the end of the hall. He takes a moment to check both sides of the hall, which curve off to either side of the closed double doors, then steps forward. “Right now, the focus should be on the mission. Get in, get Kaya, get out. Kid, what’s the compass tellin’ you?”

Jazel lifts the petri dish, the fur within all piled against the side of the glass, towards the double doors. “Right through there.”

“Then that is likely where the trap will be.” Dandy says, coming into the intersection with Jazel and Milor. “Jazel, if I may? I want to check something.”

Jazel hands the petri dish off to Dandy, and she starts walking down the curving hall to the right, with Milor covering her. Jazel and I follow behind them; Dandy keeps the makeshift compass up as she walks, watching how the fur inside responds. No matter how far we walk, the fur stays drawn to the wall to the left.

“I’m fairly certain that if we follow this hall all the way around, we’ll find that it’s a circle.” Dandy says, slowing down after a while and staring at the wall. “Kaya is in this room, probably at the dead center of it, from the way the compass is behaving. Based off my internal sensors, we should now be on the exact opposite side of the double doors we initially saw when we came down here, assuming that the room on the other side of this wall is a perfect circle.”

“Hell of a big room, then. Took us about a minute to walk this far around.” Milor says. “Haven’t seen any other doors, so I assume the only entrance is that set of double doors we first encountered.”

“Indeed. And if that is the case, then the cultists are likely hoping to funnel us through that entrance and maximize the damage they do to us while we’re trying to get through that choke point.” Dandy says, passing the compass back to Jazel, then turning to me. “Lysanne, can you set your lantern to phase a small portion of the wall? Enough to peer through, but small enough to be overlooked?”

“I can, yeah, but I’ll have to set it on the floor to keep it steady.” I say, pulling down the curtain on three sides of the lantern and leaving the fourth uncovered as I kneel down. Setting the lantern down, I carefully ease it along the floor until the green light touches the wall, starting to turn it transparent. I keep easing it forward until there’s a small aperture into the room beyond, and Dandy crouches down, partially phasing out as she peers through the hole. She angles forward, then from side to side a bit, raises her head slightly, and then after another few seconds of staring, she pushes off the floor and motions for me to pull the lantern back. I do so, the wall becoming solid once again.

“What did you see?” Milor asks as Dandy pushes herself to her feet again.

“It’s a large, terraced room with nine pillars. Like an old amphitheater, where you have curved rows of stone slabs that descent towards a stage in the center. Imagine that, but as a complete circle, instead of a half-circle.” she says, checking the charge on her stunner rifle. “At the center is a stone chair; it looks like it might be a throne. Kayenta appears to be sitting in it, and is restrained there. On the ground beneath the chair and the two terraces closest to it, it appears there is a seal or spell of some sort carved into the stone, and it is active. There is crimson light in the carvings.”

“Then we need to get in there and disrupt it.” Jazel says, glancing towards my lantern.

“Hold on, Jazel. I’m not finished.” Dandy cautions him. “There are also cultists in there; many of them. At least two dozen; perhaps a little more than that.”

Milor sucks in a breath through his teeth. “…that’s a lot.”

I grimace. “Can we handle that many?”

Jazel shrugs. “That’s what, like six for each of us? We can handle that.”

Milor raises an eyebrow. “Oh, to have the confidence of youth again.”

“Head-on, I do not think we could handle them.” Dandy says. “But Jazel’s optimism may not be misplaced. The Daughters of Azra know we are coming. However, they assume we will be coming through the double doors on the other side of the room — and so, most of their attention is focused towards those doors.”

“We can phase through the wall here, hit them from behind, and turn the tables on them.” Milor says, his eyes widening. “Instead of being ambushed, we’ll be the ones doing the ambushing.”

“Even so, that’s still two dozen cultists. Even if we manage to take down half of them before they can retaliate, we’d still be outnumbered three to one.” I point out. “We’re gonna have a hell of a fight on our hands.”

“We will. But we can apply stratagem to improve our odds.” Dandy says. “We already have the element of surprise. We can amplify its effect with misdirection. If one of us opens the double doors at the other side of the room, it will draw their attention to that location, while the other three come through the wall and hit them from behind. When their attention snaps to the rear, the person at the double doors can press the attack. Being hit from two sides will generate confusion, and we capitalize on chaos to take down as many as we can before they get their wits about them.”

“Sounds solid to me.” Milor says, pumping his shotgun so he can start to pressurize the plasma chamber. “Who’s going to be the distraction?”

“I can do so. My reflexes are substantially above the human standard, and I will be less likely to take damage if I immediately draw fire upon opening the doors.” Dandy says. “Deputy, I understand you acquired some grenades from the vending machines at the starport earlier? Could I borrow two?”

“Oh, sure.” Milor says, brushing his duster back to reveal the grenades hooked on his belt. “Whaddya want? I’ve got flash, frag, plasma, incendiary…”

I gape at the row of grenades on his belt. “Why in the world would you ever need that many grenades? That’s an entire squad’s worth of explosives!”

“Oh, they were running a bulk sale. You could get a twenty percent discount if you bought six or more grenades.” Milor says, thumbing some of the canisters on his beltline. “I didn’t plan on using them all here. I figured whatever I had left over after this mission, I could keep on hand for future missions where things might get a little hot.”

“A flash and a frag, please.” Dandy says. “If you’re going to use any of those, please avoid using the incendiary ones, and please remember to deploy them well away from the center of the room. Kayenta cannot move, so if she gets caught in the blast radius of one, the likelihood of injuring her is very high.”

“Please, like I’d forget that we have a friendly in the middle of the room.” Milor says, rolling his eyes as he hooks a couple of grenades off his belt and hands them off to Dandy. “What do I look like, a rookie?”

“I will head back around to the double doors, and commence as soon as I am there.” Dandy says, hooking the grenades on her belt. “Lysanne, once I leave, move the lantern back towards the wall, and watch for my entrance. As soon as I open the doors and draw their attention, you three can phase through the wall and start attacking. As a final note, there is a cultist posted behind each pillar in the room, at least as viewed from the double doors — presumably to give them cover from any attack coming from that direction. They will, however, have their backs completely exposed to you from this direction. It is something that would be wise to capitalize on.”

“Got it. We’ll make sure to take advantage of that.” Milor says. Dandy nods and starts heading back the way we came, and I snag my phase lantern and start moving it towards the wall again. Milor bends down, catching my hand before I can move it too close. “Real quick, before we commit. Lysanne, you and Jazel take the cultists along the left side of the room. I’ll take the cultists along the right side of the room. Sound good?”

I nod, and so does Jazel. Milor takes his hand off mine, and I start scooting the lantern forward once more until I’ve phased a small section of the wall. Keeping a hand on the lantern, I bend down and peer through the hole — I can see through to the other side of the room, and the double doors there. There’s cultists in red coats throughout the room, some of them working on the glowing seal in the center of the room; others waiting behind the pillars, like Dandy had said. The tension in my hands rises, my heart beating faster as I wait for the doors on the other side of the room to open.

And then they do, Dandy kicking open the doors, before quickly retreating off to one side of the doorway as the cultists all turn in that direction.

I bolt upright, unshuttering the lantern and holding it to the wall and motioning Milor and Jazel through. Milor dives in as a flashbang goes off in the room, and Jazel is quick after him. I’m the last one through, setting down my lantern as Milor blasts the cultist behind the nearest pillar in the back, then starts making his way around the right side of the room, pumping his shotgun and firing as he goes. Running to the nearest pillar, I pull a card out of deckholder, and take a look at it.

Two of oceans. The magical equivalent of hitting someone with a water balloon.

I groan, flicking the card down the steps at one of the cultists. “Why do I bother trying to use this stupid deck…” I grumble as I pull the rocket launcher off my shoulder and prime it. Jazel is working his way around the left side of the room, having knocked out a couple of cultists with his wisps, and is taking cover behind the pillar nearest to me, pulling another spell from his grimoire.

Resting the rocket launcher on my shoulder, I peer around the column, focus in on the largest grouping of cultists on the left side of the room, and take aim. After a brief second of doubt, I pull the trigger, and the warhead hisses across the room, striking the base of one of the far columns. In an enclosed space like this, the explosion is deafening, and it sends the nearest cultists flying, knocks others on their backs, shatters the column, and sends chunks of stone bouncing down the terraces. Smoke and dust billow through the room, and the chaos simply doesn’t let up; Dandy’s still firing stun pulses into the room whenever she peeks around the corner, Milor is blasting away with his shotgun on the right side of the room, and Jazel has jumped some of the dazed redcoats on the left side of the room, going to town with his knife. Cultists are dropping like flies.

Setting my rocket launcher down, I peer around my column down to the center of the room, where the throne sits. Kayenta’s silver ears are visible over the back of the chair, and based on how I can see the top of her head turning and twisting, she’s trying to get free. The cultists that were working on the enchantment carved into the floor have been pulled away to defend; most of them seem to favor whatever magic they have at their disposal, throwing lashes of fire or energy at Milor and Jazel. Milor’s taken cover behind one of the pillars, popping out to take a shot every now and then, while Jazel is relying on his cloak to keep him safe — the spell circles woven into it are glowing, blunting most of the magical attacks coming his way as he continues chasing down and knifing cultists that are dazed and reeling.

Slipping out from behind my pillar, I rush down the steps, snapping one of the bones on my bracelet, gathering a surge of force in my hand as I near the throne. When the nearby cultists turn towards me, I sling my hand towards them, releasing the pulse of force and throwing them across the room. I plant a hand on the back of the throne when I reach it, allowing my momentum to swing me around in front of it.

“Lysanne!” Kayenta hisses, fixing on me. She’s been dressed in a simple beige robe, and the stone throne she’s on is lit with crimson spellwork. Her arms have been bound to the arms of the throne with what looks like glowing red thread, and the the same goes for her legs and shoulders. Whenever she strains against the threads, they crackle and give off sparks, but don’t snap or yield. “Quick, you must free me! You cannot allow the completion of the ritual!”

“Yeah yeah I know that’s what we’re here for.” I say, grabbing the crimson threads to see if I can loosen them, then snatching my hand back when they burn on contact, leaving thin scorch lines on my fingers. “Gchkyyaa! Fffffhhhuuu goddamn, okay. No touchy, got it.” Reaching down, I pull my utility knife out, flicking it open and applying the blade to the red threads to see if I can saw through them — only for the blade to turn red and start to deform as the threads start to melt the metal. “Good grief, how are these threads not burning you alive?” I demand, tossing the knife away.

“The enchantment burns anything that tries to break me free. You have to damage the spell carved into the throne or get the Carceri staff to break it.” Kayenta snaps over the sound of gunshots and general chaos in the room. It doesn’t help that there’s a low background thrum that’s starting to drown out a lot of the quieter noises. “You must move faster! We are running out of time!”

“You shouting at me is not making this any easier, Kaya.” I say, looking around and spotting a chunk of the shattered pillar nearby. “Just hang in there, we’ll have you fre—”

Something hits the back of my neck as I’m moving towards the chunk of rock, and the entire world explodes into a red rictus of pain. Like my vision completely goes out, and all I see is a fractal burst of red, and pain screaming through every nerve in the top half of my body. All thoughts that were going through my head just get wiped out, and I can’t process anything other than pain. When my vision starts to filter back, I can see that I’m seizing and convulsing on the rough floor, and one of the redcoats is stepping over me — a woman with a dark complexion and braided hair. In one hand she’s got what looks like a narrow metal club, with rounded studs on it, and scarlet lightning jumping along those studs.

And it’s got a striking resemblance to the redstream magic that Grimes once used on us.

I’m struggling to breathe, so I can’t say anything, but I see a crimson shield flare to life around the redcoat, stopping a stun pulse before it can hit her. But it doesn’t stop there; a burst of crimson lightning races back down the track left by the pulse, almost like a reflexive feedback surge. Though it’s hard to make out much over the shouting and the sounds of combat, I do think I hear a rifle clatter to the ground, and I do hear the woman with the metal club order “Restrain both of them. We’ll take care of the men next.”

I gasp for air, trying to find my voice past the fire burning through my nerves. “Milor!” I rasp, but the word comes out weak and wispy, and one of the surviving cultists comes around the throne, smacking his hands together and drawing them apart with a fizzing length of magical rope between them. I roll on the ground and try to drag myself away, but everything hurts too much, and they grab me and wrap the rope around my wrists, binding them together.

“I’m comin’, blondie!” I hear Milor shout, and I twist my head to see him swing out from behind one of the pillars, coming down the terraces. The cultist with the club moves to meet him, and before I can shout to warn him, he raises his shotgun and fires a blast of plasma at her. It’s close enough to shatter her crimson shield, but the feedback ricochets along the plasma trail, a shock of red lightning hitting him hard enough to knock him flat on his back and leaving him convulsing on the ground, probably suffering from the same nerve pain that put me down. Hanging her club on her belt, the cultist kneels and snaps out a length of magical rope, starting to bind Milor as well.

I grit my teeth as the cultist handling me yanks my bound wrists down, starting to tie them to my ankles. “Jazel!” I shout, a little stronger this time. I look the other way, and see that he’s currently hanging onto the back of a cultist that’s trying to shake him off, while another one tries to get around behind him. He’s keeping the second one away with swipes of his knife — then flipping it around, stabs it into into the cultist he’s hanging onto, twisting it and wrenching it out with a faint orange mist trailing from it. As that cultist collapses, he drops back to the ground and glances towards me, only to get immediately tackled by the remaining cultist.

“Gather them at the foot of the throne.” The order comes from the cultist with the club as she drags a bound Milor down the steps towards the throne, and up at the double doors, one of the cultists is struggling with pulling a trussed Dandy into the room. He’s stopping every so often to hit her with a buzz baton, and I twist against my bindings, shouting to her.

“We should kill them, Vecora; they’re dangerous!” says the cultist holding me down. “They’ve killed over half of us and stunned several of the others; what happens if they break free and disrupt the ritual?”

“I want them to see this.” Vecora says, throwing Milor on the ground next to me. Just as he’s starting to come around, she whacks him in the ribs with her club, scarlet lightning crackling over his body as he goes into a fresh round of seizing against his bonds. “I want them to see her return, and know that they failed. And once she’s here, we can tell her that these are the ones that tried to prevent her return — and she can have the pleasure of killing them, if she wants, or tormenting them, if not.” She tilts the club so that the end of it hooks underneath the cultist’s chin, tilting his head up. “Unless you would like to deprive our goddess of a sacrifice upon her return.”

The cultist swallows hard, but doesn’t get a chance to answer, because Jazel and another cultist come rolling down the terraces, stopping just short of throne. He shoves himself out of the tangle of limbs, and the limpness of the body makes it clear that Jazel came out the victor in that fight; panting and rasping, he locks onto Vecora and the remaining cultists, his green eyes wild and feral. He clenches the hilt of his knife, raising his other hand to catch what appears to be a vial that’s ejected from the knife’s hilt, and tucks it away within the shadow of his cloak, then pulls out a fresh vial and slots it into the hilt, twisting it until it locks back into place.

“You’re a narsty little piece of work, aren’t you.” Vecora murmurs, starting to circle around as she firms up her grip on her club. “Barely more than an animal, with a temper like that. We’d be doing your friends a favor, putting you down.”

The cultist kneeling over me yanks out a knife, putting it to my throat as he glares at Jazel. “Put it down, or your friends get it.” he growls.

Jazel bares his teeth, tilting his grimoire hand open, and the moment he does, Vecora shouts “Now!” A second later, something fast and white streaks through the air from the other side of the room, and nails Jazel in the side, hard enough to force him to stumble back. It’s an arrow, carved of the whitest wood I’ve ever seen, and it’s gone straight through his cloak. Where it touches the spell lines woven into the cloak, the magic has decayed and crumbled, while the wood itself has cindered and charred black. Jazel looks down, and grabs the arrow with his grimoire hand — only for the blue lines of his grimoire to fizzle and fade away as soon as it comes in contact with the arrow’s shaft. As the wood cinders and turns black where the grimoire touched it, Jazel yanks his hand away, folding down to one knee with a grunt.

“Jazel!” Kayenta shouts, straining against the threads binding her to the throne.

“Weren’t expecting that, were you.” Vecora says, keeping her distance as a cultist with a bow and quiver comes down from the edge of the room. “The wood of the Carceri tree. It’s one of the best magic nullifiers known to exist, after niquid. Of course, niquid is so expensive that only the Vaunted can afford to buy it, and keep it stocked for when they have to deal with hypernaturals… and that’s not to say that Carceri wood is cheap, either. Quite the opposite, and illegal, to boot.”

“You couldn’t have just used nakterite, like normal people?” Jazel grunts, sheathing his knife so he can grip the arrow’s shaft.

“Nakterite just dampens magic. It doesn’t nullify it the way Carceri wood does.” Vecora says, watching as another cultist drags Dandy down the steps to pile her with us.

“When I get loose I’m going to pull that stupid coat up over your head and strangle you with it.” Kayenta snarls at Vecora.

“It’s amazing that you’re still just as feisty a month down the line.” Vecora says, lifting her club and pressing the tip against the side of Kayenta’s face. She grits her teeth and snarls, despite the little arcs of red lightning that snap off the club and onto her face here and there. “I was hoping we could break you and make this easier for the Tyrant, but you are the most stubborn morphox I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Vecora, are we just going to let him sit there?” the cultist above me demands, nodding his head to Jazel.

Vecora drops her club from Kayenta’s face. “What is he going to do? He’s got an arrow in his side and his magic is shorted out. He can’t move, and he knows it; that’s why he’s still sitting there. If he tries to pull the arrow out, he’ll be bleeding everywhere; if he tries to fight without removing it, he’ll tear up his insides. He can’t do shit unless he wants to kill himself, and even if he tries, he’ll lose whatever fight he wants to pick with us. No, he’s gonna stay right there, and he might as well enjoy the show, because it’s just about to start.”

The cultist huffs and drops his knife away from my neck, standing up. As soon as he steps away, I turn my head to Dandy, who’s tied up like I am, the cultist above her holding a stun prod close as a threat. “Dandy! Are you okay?”

Her blue eyes turn to me, flickering unevenly. The tasering might be playing havoc with her system; it’s hard to tell. “I’m sorry, Ms. Arrignis… they held some people in reserve… came around behind me…”

Before I can answer, a deep thump echoes through the room, like something big and heavy slotting into place. Looking around, I can see the room around us has taken on an eerie sort of haziness, like there was another version of the room overlaid atop this one. The column that I destroyed earlier has been replaced by another, hazier one — and there are unfamiliar, ghostly banners on walls that had been empty just moments ago.

“There we go.” Vecora nods to herself. “She’s almost here.”

A shout from Jazel draws our attention back to him, and I look to see that he’s pulled the arrow out of his side, using his left hand to clamp his cloak to the wound to stem the bleeding. Dropping it on the floor, he starts to stagger back to his feet; Vecora lifts her club, red light gathering around it before she swings it down, whipping a crimson arc towards him. It hits him hard enough to knock him back down on the stone floor, twisting and seizing in agony.

“I told you we should—” starts the cultist that tied me up.

“Not a word.” Vecora says, pointing her club towards him. “I will not reward his stubbornness with a swift death. He will learn his lesson first.”

The muffled sound of doors being thrown open draws our attention back to the room’s main entrance — to find a second set of spectral doors being pushed open there, with a procession of transparent, ghostly figures stepping through. At the front is a tall woman with long red hair and hot green eyes, dressed in a sashbound silk shirt — and like Kayenta, she has vixen ears and nine tails, though hers are red and tipped in white.

“…witness to my return to the mortal realm!” she declares proudly, turning and throwing her arms out as she faces what looks like a procession of guests and demonic staff alike. “I’ve been looking forward to this for millennia. And once I’m there, oh, are we going to have some fun.”

Milor groans beside me; it seems like he’s finally recovered from getting whacked with Vecora’s torture stick. “The hell is going on…” he grunts, staring at the ghostly figures coming through the doors.

“Kneel in the presence of the goddess of tyranny, Azra Guile, the queen of the Maelstrom!” Vecora hails loudly, lifting her club towards the red-tailed morphox. The other cultists still in the room bow their heads, although only a couple of them kneel, the others keeping an eye on the rest of us to ensure we don’t try anything. On the throne, Kayenta lays her silver ears back and gekkers at Azra, who turns back around at the sound.

“And there’s my vessel.” Azra smirks, and for me, it’s starting to come together. The flawless appearance, the celestial clothes, the irrepressible self-confidence — this is a goddess, and Vecora and her compatriots weren’t delusional. Deranged, probably, but they had actually managed to arrange to bring a demon goddess to the mortal realm. “She’s a spicy little thing, but she’s got nine tails, and that’s what matt— hey!”

Azra’s monologue is interrupted when one of the guests runs past her, rushing down the terraces towards the throne. And it’s not until I hear her shout that I recognize her. “JAZEL!”

It’s Jayta, Jazel’s little sister.

Instead of going to the throne, she runs right past it to where Jazel’s lying on the ground, still occasionally twitching from the nerve pain wracking his body. She tries to grab him, but her hands go right through him, and when she realizes she can’t touch him, she kneels on the ground beside him. “Jazel? Jazel, are you okay?”

“Bro, seriously? I was having a moment here. Like, I had a speech and everything.” Azra says, holding her arms out, then turning to glance back at one of her guests that’s started a few steps after Jayta. “What gives, Raikaron? You can’t keep a leash on your pet?”

The slender man she’s speaking to has well-trimmed, bright scarlet hair, almost the same color as a strawberry, and he’s dressed impeccably, in black slacks, white button-down, a fitted vest, a robust red tie, and a fur-trimmed greatcoat hanging off his shoulders. He does look rather alarmed behind his thin, rectangular glasses. “My greatest apologies, your highness; I did not foresee this particular complication.”

“A complication? Is that what you’re calling it?” Azra scoffs, then looks back to Jayta and Jazel. “Wait, hold up. She knows him? Is that…?”

Raikaron presses his lips together, like he was reluctant to answer, but doesn’t seem like he’s in a position to refuse. “That… is her brother, yes.”

“Hah. Family drama. The irony’s not lost on me.” Azra says, planting a hand on her hip as she looks back to Jazel and Jayta. “We’re really checking off all the boxes today. Well, I suppose she’d be torn right up if I killed him, wouldn’t she.”

“I understand I may be speaking above my station, but yes, if you would honor us by sparing him — I would greatly appreciate it, and so would my avenger.” Raikaron says carefully. 

“Mmm. I’ll consider it.” Azra says, tapping a thoughtful finger against her bottom lip.

“While we’re on the topic of sparin’ folks, if you could spare the rest of us as well, that would be fantastic.” Milor grunts from the floor.

Azra’s hot green eyes go to Milor. “I don’t recall giving you permission to talk.”

Milor shrugs. “Well, I don’t recall needin’ it.”

“Milor!” I hiss at him. “Stop it, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“Blondie, I’m pretty sure they were fixin’ on killin’ us anyway.” Milor drawls. “If I’m gonna die, I’d rather go out on a high note. You can go out with a whimper if you want; I’mma go out with a bang.”

“Raikaron, he’s bleeding!” Jayta shouts across the room, looking over her shoulder at Raikaron. “Help me! Can’t you do something about this?”

Though he looks pained, Raikaron shakes his head. “I cannot. I know this is hard, Jayta, but please, come back over here.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna leave him!” Jayta says, turning back to Jazel.

“Well, this is positively heartwrenching and all that jazz, but I have a return to the mortal plane to get on with.” Azra says, clapping her hands together and turning back to her ghostly guests and staff. “I must thank you all again for attending my centennial; it was a pleasure to have you all here. There will be goodie bags for everyone on your way out the door when you’re leaving; feel free to stay a little longer if you want to socialize. If you want to take any of the food home, just let the waiters know; we’ve got plenty of to-go boxes in the kitchen.” Turning about, she starts down the stairs to the throne. “Now, let’s get this party started…”

Kayenta yanks at her bindings, straining forward as she bares her teeth at Azra. “You are a fool, Azra Guile! Our parents will know you have fled the Maelstrom, and they will send heroes to stop you and send you back, just as they have in the past! Flee the Maelstrom before your sentence is served, and you will only end up lengthening it!”

Azra walks through us, not even bothering to lift her feet on the way past. Her spectral legs pass through us as she comes to a stop in front of the throne, resting a hand on top of it as she leans down towards Kayenta. “Considering I’m fifteen thousand years old, and you’re only four hundred, I’ll take your advice with a grain of salt, little sister. Besides, I have work to do, and you’re going to help me do it.”

With that, Azra turns and sits in the throne, her spectral outline superimposed over Kayenta. Lines of orange start binding around their respective outlines, pulling them together, and though Kayenta thrashes and struggles and screeches, those orange threads slowly and inexorably begin pulling her into alignment with Azra. On the floor near the throne, Jazel again shoves himself to his feet, still clutching his side and staggering unsteadily.

“Jazel, stay down!” I hiss at him. “You can’t do anything, you’re gonna get yourself killed—”

“I will not stand by… while my mate is stolen from me.” he rasps, starting to stagger towards the throne. Vecora’s already moving to intercept him, her club charging with redstream lightning, and she’s starting to raise her club to strike him when he suddenly lashes out, chopping her in the throat with his free hand. Vecora’s caught off guard, choking and gagging as her windpipe is abruptly closed off, and while she’s still clutching her throat, Jazel backhands her with a closed fist, sending her staggering and nearly tripping over Milor, who kicks his bound legs forward, sweeping her feet out from under her and knocking her down.

“She’s down, kid, get the fox!” Milor shouts, just before eating a blow from Vecora’s charged club as she swings it about wildly, hitting Dandy in the process. I twist and squirm to get out of Vecora’s striking range as the other cultists move in to stop Jazel, with Jayta running towards one of them to try and scare them off. But Vecora doesn’t care about any of that; she charges her club again, lifting and throwing it across the short distance to nail Jazel in the back right as he reaches the throne. His back arches as crimson lightning dances over his frame, toppling over on the ground in a paroxysm of agony. The surviving cultists, upon arriving, plant boots or hands on the rest of us, holding us down as Vecora gets back to her feet, gasping and wheezing for breath.

“Raikaron, DO something!” Jayta shouts as she scrambles to where Jazel’s now convulsing on the floor with Dandy and Milor.

“I cannot act here, Jayta!” Raikaron replies, though it’s almost immediately drowned out by a sharp snap-click that cuts, clear and crisp, through the room. Looking back to the throne, I see that the orange threads have pulled Azra and Kayenta fully into alignment, and as they fade away, Kayenta sags forward on the throne. There’s a long moment of silence, with the hazy overlay and ghostly figures in the room starting to fade. Then Kayenta opens her eyes.

They’re burning a hot green.

As she starts to sit up again, her black hair starts to turn red, starting from the roots and running all the way down to the ends. The silver fur of her ears and tails likewise begins morphing over to a fiery orange hue, save for the ends, which are tipped in white. It’s no longer Kayenta sitting on that throne — it’s Azra, who’s now crossed over into the mortal plane.

“Oh, yes.” she says, curling her fingers, then wrenching her arms up. The threads binding her to the throne snap, and she stands up as the overlay across the room starts to fade. Jayta and the others that accompanied Azra are becoming faint and indistinct as Azra wrenches her legs away from the throne, snapping those threads as well. “Alright. We’re here now. Boy, oh boy do we have work to do.”

“Majesty!” Vecora wheezes, still coughing and holding her throat as she gets to one knee before Azra. “Forgive our lack of composure; these heretics simply will not yield. What would you have us do with them?”

“Well, they’ve got grit, I’ll give them that.” Azra says, hooking a foot under Jazel and flipping him over as he tries to get back up. “This one fights pretty hard for such a scrawny little thing. Release their bindings.”

Vecora appears uncertain at that. “Your Divinity—”

“Bitch, I’m a demon goddess.” Azra says, giving Vecora a flat look. “I can call down the storm, chuck a mountain like a shotput, and crack the earth like cracking an egg. What are these mortals gonna do, stub my toe?”

Vecora bows her head. “As you command.” she says. Within seconds, the magical bindings restraining us have faded away, though it’s replaced by a crushing pressure as Azra extends a hand, motioning upwards. All four of us are lifted into the air, gasping for breath.

“I’ll give you props for making a mess. I don’t think you really ever stood a chance against my Daughters, but that didn’t stop you from trying, and I respect that.” Azra says, walking away from the throne and past us. She stops by Jazel to grab his jaw, turning his head this way and that. “Honestly, I don’t see what she saw in you aside from the bigass supply of soul she could sip on for centuries on end, but there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose. I would’ve just sucked it all out and had done with it, but she likes your company for reasons beyond my comprehension.”

“I will tear you out of her the moment you turn your back on me.” Jazel seethes, before twisting his head and trying to bite Azra’s hand.

She snatches it back, leaving his teeth to snap shut on empty air. “Hate to bust your bubble, but that’s not how this works. This is my vessel now; you better get used to it. Although…” She looks around the room. “Looks like we’re desynchronized from my palace now, so your poor little sister isn’t here. Which means that I can kill you without having her throw a fit.”

“You said you wouldn’t kill us.” Milor says through gritted teeth.

“I said I’d think about it.” Azra says, stepping back. “And I have thought about it. And I think leaving you all alive doesn’t seem right. You killed some of my people, so now I get to kill you all. Seems fair to me.”

She lifts a hand towards us, then winces as it twitches, rotates, and tilts to the side a little. Shaking it, she moves it back towards us, only for it to tilt down, the fingers curling into a fist as it twists in another direction. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?” she mutters, wrinkling her nose. “Gonna need to iron that out later. Have a little talk about who’s in charge here.”

“Say the word and we’ll kill them for you, majesty.” Vecora says.

“I can’t do that, otherwise this stupid vessel would start thinking she could veto anything I want to do.” Azra says, flicking her hand to one side. All of us are thrown towards the throne, but I’m able to brace myself as the pressure comes off us. Landing on the stone still hurts, but not as much as it might’ve otherwise. “Grab everyone that’s still alive. We have work to do, and I wanna get started on it.”

The surviving cultists start moving, checking the ones that have fallen and grabbing the ones that are merely stunned or wounded. I crawl over to Dandy to check on her while Milor draws his plasma pistol, but Azra looks at him before he can point it at her. The hand he’s using to hold the pistol starts to bend to the side, as if being twisted away by an unseen force, until he’s forced to drop the gun on the floor.

“I’m insulted. You think you can do anything to me with a peashooter like that?” Azra scoffs. “Like, at least put some effort in. I’m a goddess! Throw a tank at me, or maybe a Titan mech. C’mon now. If you’re gonna waste my time, at least entertain me while you’re at it.”

Milor grits his teeth as his arm’s pinned to the ground by the unseen force. “You’re one high-maintenance bitch, ya know that? Sorry to disappoint, but a tank ain’t in my budget, and askin’ for a mech to kick your ass is at least six pay grades above the tank.”

“What can I say. I know what I’m worth.” Azra says, making a flicking motion as Jazel sways back to his feet. He’s immediately knocked back into the throne, where the crimson threads wind to life around his arms and legs, binding him to the stone seat. “And you. I’m surprised you haven’t bled out yet. Hurry up and die, would you? You’re puttin’ a real damper on the celebratory mood here.”

Jazel bares his teeth. “Not until I get my fox back.”

“Uuuuggghh you are the textbook definition of ‘too angry to die’.” Azra groans, turning and starting to walk away. “Fine, have it your way. You wanna do this the hard way, we’ll do this the hard way.”

“Dandy, are you okay?” I cough as I reach her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m alive. Quite uncomfortable, but alive.” she rasps in return, hanging an arm on my wrist. “What about you?”

“Banged up. Achy. But I’m alive.”

“Not for much longer!” Azra calls over her shoulder as she reaches the room’s entrance. She gives a lazy wave, and there’s loud, explosive cracks as the remaining pillars in the room shatter and crumble. The last of the surviving cultists rush their unconscious coworkers out of the room as the ceiling overhead fractures. This far underground, and without anything to support it, the ceiling is bound to collapse if there’s nothing holding it up.

“Oh c’mon!” Milor bellows at her as chunks of rock start to fall from the fragmenting roof. “That’s cheating!”

All I can do is stare up at the ceiling as it starts to buckle. There’s nothing I can do, nothing I have at my disposal that could save us from this. My phase lantern is still all the way up at the edge of the room, and I wouldn’t be able to get up there fast enough to bring it down here in time.

There’s nothing to do but watch as the ceiling collapses, and an avalanche of rocks and dirt buries us in darkness.

Fading Echoes

Somewhere between the Waking and Dreaming

?: Oh boy, she just got loose again.

??: Mm?

?: The bosses’ daughter. She managed to find a vessel that met the criteria, and snuck out of the Maelstrom.

??: Seriously?

?: Yeah, seriously. The seal just sent us a warning ping, and I checked in on it. She’s not in the Maelstrom anymore.

??: Damn. Been a few thousand years since the last time, hasn’t it?

?: I think. It was before my time.

??: Same here. Didn’t she make a mess last time she snuck out?

?: She always makes a mess when she gets out, the way I hear the other seraphs tell it. This time probably won’t be any different.

??: Galaxy’s already a mess as it is; it doesn’t need more excitement. What do we do now?

?: Escalate it to the top, I guess. It’s above our level, that’s for sure.

??: I’ll start summoning Sång. It’ll probably be better if she tells the bosses.

?: Yeah, I wouldn’t wanna be around when ol’ thundercloud finds out. Gonna be storms for days when he gets the news.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Balmorrah: DOA Compound

6:30pm SGT

I awake all at once.

There’s no gradual return to consciousness, no slow rise to awareness. I’m simply and suddenly awake, feeling the cold stone against my face, the quiet sound of shuffling beside me. Opening my eyes, I find myself lying on the floor, in the hallway outside of the ritual room. The others are sprawled on the ground as well, and standing above them is a silhouette. A woman in a schoolgirl uniform, her head shrouded in red-eyed crows clustered around her head and shoulders.

Then I blink, and she’s gone.

“Ms. Arrignis. You’re awake.” Dandy is the only one that’s up; she was kneeling over Jazel, but moves over to me when she sees my eyes open. “How are you feeling?”

I grimace as I start to push myself up. Everything is sore, and hurts; while the effect of the redstream magic has worn off, it’s left me with a dull, lingering pain. “Awful. How did… why are we… what happened?”

“I don’t know. I only came about five minutes ago, and when I did, we were out here in the hall.” she says, motioning to the doorway of the ritual room. I look, and see that rock and rubble has spilled through it — it’s completely collapsed. “I tried to wake the rest of you but, but you wouldn’t rouse.”

I wipe some hair out of my eyes, looking around. Piled off to one side is all the gear that would’ve been lost when the room collapsed — Milor’s shotgun, my lantern, Dandy’s rifle, and so on. “I remember the room caving in, the ceiling collapsing on us. How did we get out?”

Dandy shakes her head. “I don’t know. My sensors did not record any data after that point. Something got us out; I’m not sure what.”

I look at Jazel and Milor. “Are they…?”

“They are alive. Milor is simply unconscious. Jazel is still wounded, but he is stable — I don’t know how.” Dandy says, reaching out and pulling his bloodied cloak back. “The wound from the arrow looks like it’s been sutured with some sort of transparent film. It doesn’t resemble any medical device or technique I’ve seen before, and the film appears to extend down into the wound. My frame’s sensors are limited, but from what I could tell of a close examination, it appears to have stopped any internal bleeding he was suffering from. I haven’t tried to manipulate or stress the material — considering it’s keeping him alive, I decided it was best to let it be for now.”

“At least he’s alive.” I sigh, bracing my hands on my knees as I try to process everything that’s happened. “They actually did it. Azra’s real. They actually summoned a demon goddess.”

“Yes. Something was pulled from another plane onto this one, and it was powerful.” Dandy agrees. “And it’s currently using Kayenta as a vessel.”

I press my lips together. “We can’t…” I glance at Jazel, who’s still unconscious. “…we can’t keep pursuing this, Dandy. It’s beyond us. Above us. You saw it, felt it. She lifted all of us with a wave, forced Milor to drop his gun just by looking at him, shattered those pillars without even turning around. That’s too much. We can’t handle that.”

“I agree, Lysanne.” she says, looking back into the hallway we’d originally entered from. “The Vaunted will need to take it from here. They have a specialized unit known as the HCD — Hypernatural Containment Division. They have the tools necessary to handle this kind of threat. We don’t.”

“Yeah.” I say softly, still looking at Jazel. “I don’t know how we’ll tell him.”

Dandy now glances to him. “He will not take it well.”

“No, he won’t.”

“He will try to go off on his own if we choose not to pursue her.” she points out after a moment.

“Probably.”

Dandy’s quiet for another moment more, then asks, “Will you try to stop him?”

I shake my head. “There’s no point in it. He wouldn’t listen, and he’d find a way to get around us and go after her. Even if it would get him killed.”

“We’re just going to let him run off on his own, then?” Dandy asks.

“Not right away. We’ll keep him long enough for him to recover from his injury.” I say, wincing as I start to shift to my feet. “Maybe that’ll give us time to reason with him. Convince him to let the Vaunted handle it. But if he still wants to chase Azra down after he’s recovered, then we’ll have to let him go at that point.”

Dandy stares at him for a bit. “His likelihood of surviving an encounter with Azra and her followers is low.”

“Yeah. But he’ll do it anyway.” I say, starting to sort through the pile of equipment.

“Because he loves Kayenta?”

“Yep.”

After a moment, Dandy looks at me. “If something like that happened to me, would you do the same?”

I pause, looking at her, then down at the stone lantern in my hands. “I don’t know.” I say softly. “I want to say I would be smart about it. Reasonable about it. That I’d think of the greater good.” I run one of my thumbs over the rib of the lantern, the surface smooth and contoured beneath my skin. “But I’m not sure I would.”

She looks back to Jazel after a moment. “I suppose we can’t blame him, then.”

“What he’s gonna do will probably be selfish.” I say, setting the lantern down and pulling my rocket launcher out of the pile. “But I might do the exact same thing if I was in his position. So I’ll ask him not to do it. But I’m not gonna stop him if he does.”

Milor’s eyes open at this point, and he wakes the way I did — all at once, suddenly conscious, no grogginess or haze. Blinking a couple times, he looks around, sees us, then starts to push himself off the floor. “Dayum. And here I was, thinking I’d be wakin’ up at the pearly gates. We are alive, right? I’m not hallucinating?”

“You’re alive, Deputy. At least, this is the conclusion that each of us has reached as well.” Dandy says.

“Well ain’t that a bitch.” he grunts as he sits up. “Makes sense, though. I’m still feelin’ that fight, and I figure if I was dead, I wouldn’t be feelin’ like I got chewed up and spit back out again.” Puffing a breath out, he looks around. “Anyone we can thank for savin’ our sorry hides? I could be wrong, but I don’t think any of us were in a position to save the day back there.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t me and it wasn’t Dandy, and I doubt it was Jazel, since his grimoire was disrupted. Something got us out, and we don’t know what it was.”

“Didn’t think my behavior was good enough to warrant a guardian angel, but if someone up top thinks that I deserve one, I ain’t gonna complain.” he says, glancing at the pile of equipment. “Damn. They even grabbed all our kit. That’s real thoughtful of ‘em. Angels like that might just convince me to go to church on the regular. Pass me my guns, will ya?”

“Sure, I’ll…” I say, reaching for them, then noticing something else among the gear. Reaching past the guns, I grab a familiar-looking box that’s shaped like a black cube, the exterior reinforced and rubberized. “Dandy, did you see this?”

Dandy tilts her head at the box. “That… isn’t that the same kind of box that Grimes was using to store the vials of soul he extracted from Jazel on the Primsex?”

“Yeah. We’ve still got them in your core vault on the Drift.” I say, finding the latches around the sides of the box. Popping them open, I grab the lid and pull it off, refrigerated air swirling out as I do so. Within there’s stacked trays of vials, each one filled with a nebulous green plasma.

“Isn’t that the stuff the kid’s been feeding the fox every month?” Milor asks.

“It is, yeah.” I say, staring into the box. “I don’t know why it’s down here, though… this can’t be one of our boxes, right? Our stash is all the way up in the Drift, locked in the core vault.”

“They are, yes. Which means that box had to come from here in the compound.” Dandy says. “But the storage solution is from Grimes’ lab. Meaning that the Daughters of Azra got this box from Grimes before he was killed.”

“They were customers of Grimes. Which is probably how they knew about Jazel and Kayenta.” I say slowly. “They knew. This is all Grimes’ fault.”

“Pity we can’t kill the bastard twice.” Milor says, reaching past me and grabbing his shotgun. “Sittin’ around here gawpin’ about it ain’t gonna get us anywhere, though. Let’s pack it up and get back to the Drift. We’ve already cheated death once today, and I’d rather not roll the dice on that for another few weeks at least. Dandy, if I lug your rifle, can you carry Jazel?”

“I can carry him, yes. But we will have to move carefully; he is still injured.” Dandy says, shuffling over to get her arms under Jazel.

“Do what you have to. Lysanne, let’s box it up and get goin’.” Milor orders as he grabs Dandy’s stunner rifle and slides that over his other shoulder. “Once we’re back on the Drift, we can lick our wounds and think about the implications, but for now, the highest priority is getting out of here and getting off this rock alive. Can you carry that box?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can carry it.” I say, putting the lid back on and latching it shut. “Sorry. You’re right; let’s get out of here.”

“Good.” Milor says, holstering his pistol as we finish collecting our equipment and get to our feet. “I’ll go in front in case the redheaded bitch left any of her fanatics behind. Lysanne, you bring up the rear, and we’ll have Dandy in the middle, since she’s carrying Jazel. If either of you hear anything from the back, let me know. Let’s hope the kid stays unconscious long enough for us to get back to the skipper; if he wakes up, I got the feeling he’s gonna be seething over losing to Azra…”

With that, we start to make our way through the compound, heading back the way we came. Milor gives orders here and there, and we follow them without question — he has the experience for situations like this, and there’s no arguing with that. Even so, I can’t help glancing over my shoulder as we reach the stairwell, staring back down the hall at the collapsed ritual room.

Despite our best efforts, we hadn’t be able to stop it — and now there was a demon goddess somewhere out there, roaming free in the galaxy.