(Resumed) Solstice

[Patrick]

It was nightfall, and still no Duel.

I reached out with my left arm and tripped onto the floor for my efforts. "Fuck..."

Barbara chuckled from behind and to the right, cooking some kind of soup over a campfire. "It'll take a while to get used to, Patrick. You made a solid choice in who you sacked the arm to kill, but the fact remains that it is now gone."

I grumbled, haphazardly pulling myself back into a seated position. The flames gave a soft and subtle light to the surroundings. I looked left to see Barbara watching our food with a cauldron she had to have made with Transmutation Magick. Across from her, Layla was sleeping soundly in a blanket with her robe bundled up as a pillow. She didn't seem to wear much underneath, but I wasn't paying too much attention. I wasn't a pervert, and I didn't think Grace would be too happy with me for it.

To make matters even worse, I was sitting across from the giant metal cooler that held Emmett in place, and on top of that box, on the transparent glass, sat Selene in a meditative posture. "Uh, Selene?"

"Yes, Patrick?" The Aura around her didn't so much as flicker.

"You, um, do realise that if Emmy wakes up, he-"

A ball of azure punched into my cheek.

"Ow! Damn!"

"I know she can see up my robes if she wakes, Patrick. That's the point."

My jaw slacked, so it was up to Barbara to fill the silence. "You're going to scare her half to death!"

"Yup!" Selene's lips pulled into a smile far too genuine for the morbidity of the conversation. "And that shock will give her the emotional kick she needs to exorcise Vanessa in one swoop!"

Barbara shook her head. "I'm starting to see why Miss Bauer's staying with you three when her younger brother's still missing."

Apparently, Barbara had personally tutored Layla in the past before the former discovered Charade Gin and moved into the village. That would explain why I had noticed so much rage from Layla: she had looked up to Barbara as a living legend. I shuddered to imagine how betrayed she felt that a personal heroine had turned Etsy.

But Grace would never forgive me for jeopardising Emmy's life even if Barb deserved it, and I reckoned Layla probably had a similar relationship with Ansel. So we ended up tacitly agreeing to leave well enough alone.

"Layla! Wake up!" called Barbara, who received a groan in turn. "And Selene! Stop flashing the sleeping beauty and come have dinner!"

"Y-you didn't have to be so rude!" Selene swivelled to her feet and leapt to the fireplace.

Laughter bubbled up as Barbara poured a vegetable soup with carrots, potatoes, peas, and onions into small bowls for each of us.

I pursed my lips. What if this was poison? Even though Barbara poured herself a cup and is drinking, she could just neutralise the toxin within herself.

"We may as well drink up." Layla paused her words with a sip of the fresh-cooked soup, wincing a bit after. "Ser Anne doesn't need poison to kill us."

Selene squeaked with a full cup of Magickally-cooled soup down her gullet. "She's also extremely kind! Trust me, there's nothing but love written all over her Soul! Well. There's regret, too, but we're in good hands!"

I waited a little while for my soup to cool, especially since I'd have to hold my cup in one hand. While I did, Barbara took a sip of her own soup. "We're going to need to move soon. We're sitting ducks for any Squads or enforcers, and I know both Lord Adams and Lady Stahl are on campus."

I groaned and finally took a half sip, singing my tongue a little. "Can Emmy even move?"

"Yeah, that's the problem." Barbara floated another fill of soup to her cup with a ladle of Magick. "We don't have a Healer or even a Yangside caster. We would need to warm Em up before we move but still keep her asleep, but the vastly low temperature is a large part of what's slowing Vanessa down."

I grumbled. "Meaning we're going to have to move quickly."

Selene held out her cup as if to request another helping of soup. "It also means we need to hold still so long we can. Emily still needs to heal from..." She pulled the now-filled cup back and looked toward the woman who just fed her again. "I need to know which mystery exactly you claim she tapped into that got her possessed."

Barbara cleared her throat. "Why would I tell you of this?"

"Because we still need to know whether we can truly trust you."

"Then read my Shroud, woman."

I hummed aloud to break the tension. "It's more than that. We need to know what happened to Emmy in case our friend wakes up and it's Vanessa."

Barbara finished her second cup in a gulp. "And why do you care?"

"Because Em's an apprentice of Jacqueline, same as me. And we don't leave our own behind."

"And where was that back in Charade Gin?"

"You're one to talk!" I stood up. "In the three and a half weeks I've been gone, I learned just how utterly wrong I was. And you! You embraced vile treachery with arms outspread!"

"And in that time, I have thwarted several Emissary operations." Barbara willed a third helping into her cup. "I discovered some valuable clues about Aegis' Magick. I fed the Emissaries information about Indis Rey that would get them killed when they tried to invade under colour of proving my loyalty. I identified a covert Emissary recruit operating within Can Vahs, thwarted a conscription attempt on Em, thwarted an assassination attempt, oh and stopped a Demon possession dead in its tracks. On top of all this, I've sent memoranda to several colleagues proposing a grassroots Guild to rectify the information asymmetry that is endemic to Sollun. This Guild will serve as a natural counter to both the Emissaries and the more corrupt elements of the Can Vahs oligarchy. So you tell me, Patrick Peterson, whether I have embraced such treachery as thou claimst."

I hissed, feeling the anger simmer in my Vessel. "You still helped them! You still killed people, Barb! Innocent! People!"

"And how many countless saves have I protected in the crippling of their objectives?!" Barbara set her cup down. "These aren't bandits or fools or clownish entertainers, Patrick! They're a lot smarter than you give them credit for! If you treat them like mere bullies, you will find yourself-"

"Then you strike them all down before they even draw the breath to-"

Selene rose. "Stop."

I shucked my gaze to her and opened my lips.

"Not another word, either of you." Selene crossed her arms. "I know your anguish, Patrick. But right now, Barbara is our only hope to survive these next few days. And you, Miss Anneford."

Barbara cocked her head slightly askew.

Selene cleared her throat. "You will have to atone for your sins and your crimes. You may even have to die for them. That's not up to me, it's not up to Patrick, and it's not up to Emily. You are walking the path of light, but you did a great deal of wrong in pursuit of right. Donning that cloak consigns your morality to the Hells. And if no one else will enforce that..."

Barbara lifted her shoulders. "What. You will?"

Selene nodded. "With the whole of my heart."

The two women regarded each other with an eerie silence. Selene would certainly die if she tried to fight Barbara. So why? I thought about it for a second longer, realising that my outburst amounted to the exact same fucking thing. Was this an innate property of Magi? If so, why were there fights between our kind?

I looked down. Do the Etsies actually have a point? I had never even considered the notion that they might have been right this entire time.

No. Wrong. It is never okay to slaughter innocents in the name of anything. In order for the Emissaries to be a force of good, Dreamers must pose a threat by virtue of existence alone, which is flatly impossible. The entire Etsy campaign rests on the notion that Dreamers are the root cause of Nightmares...

I asked myself a dreadful question of two words: Are they?

Before I could think more about it, a hand shook me out of my thoughts. "Hey, ease up." Barbara's voice placed me firmly within centre. "We're not infighting, and the Emissaries of Total Salvation need to be ended."

I looked up to her with a pleading, questioning pair of eyes.

Barbara gave a smile that felt genuinely warm for the first time this whole day and night. "Get some rest. Layla and I will exchange watch. We'll worry about moving Emmalynn on the crack of dawn."

I nodded and looked to gather some bedding, only to find some already furnished at my feet.

"You're welcome," said Barbara.

[Em]

The screams persisted evermore. A glistening oil pooled and pushed against my torso, encroaching slowly upon my breasts.

I laboured another lungful of air into my bosom. I gathered my focus and will to push it out, but every time I did, the screams deafened me while a nightmarish tendril lanced into my mouth to gag my own.

Or, should I say, Nightmarish?

After several eternal seconds and my energy collapsing into my dimming form, the tendril relented, sending me through a coughing fit.

"In all of Wer and Wif, the Soul to reach the Mystery of Astra was thy?!"

I raised my scowling eyes to the masked disdainful stare of a woman-shaped fiend sitting cross-legged and hovering over the oil, sword on her lap.

"Thou hast truly nary clue, what thou discardest."

I made a motion to spit into the oil. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" When the breath passed my lips, I felt a warm sunbeam illuminate me from an impossible direction.

The supposed Precept of Tenacity shrugged. "I am where I ought."

I ushered a bothersome sigh. "If you're going to live in my head, why don't you tell me what this Mystery of Astra is or whatever."

She shook her head.

"Why no-" My outburst was choked by a veil of the chromatic tar clogging my orifices.

She droned on, not paying one blip to the fact that I was currently drowning. "Thou willst soon to nought fade, whereupon thy Form my become shall. 'Twould be pointless, a dead woman to instruct."

An urge rushed through me to talk back, but I clamped it down lest I exhaust the air in my lungs.

"Despite thy obstinance am I not wholly unkind, so I offer thee thus: Retake thy composure, and I shall thee something of worth tell."

I scowled and clenched my teeth so hard I could feel pressure mounting in my gums. Panick cobbled upon panick. The liquid walls closed in on me.

I could feel her sadistic laughter in my bones. Jacqueline's disdain. Patrick's righteous anger. Ser Linn's premeditation. Romeo's attempt at murder.

Aegis. The reason everything went so wrong. The man I wanted more than anything to slay for his crimes.

If I let myself get bullied about by a mere drowning inside my own Mind then I had no right to claim any ambitions, no business keeping friends, no reason to exist.

I pulled the panic into my eyes and crystallised it into tranquil fury, staring gracefully yet murderously into the enemy before me. I let myself still and slow down.

Another warmth enveloped me for another moment.

The Demonic woman nodded, and the oil fell off my face. "Acceptable. Very well, I shall my promise keep." She stood up, planting her feet gently atop the mire as though it were solid ground. "Thy kithfolk swim in grand peril, from which they not possibly themselves extrude can."

My anger tore itself free. "What in the Hells do you expect me to do?! I'm here, not there!"

"Simple. Give thyself unto me."

"How will I know you won't kill them yourself?!"

She held her blade out to her side. Cerulean crackled through, frosting the space around us. "Hath none of Demons thee taught?"

My teeth clattered. "N-No..."

"Then I need must." The slender blade turned to dust and re-entered its wielder. "Demons are creatures of the Umbra, and we are so bound. When we are born are we to standards two held: The Will Of Men and The Desire Of The Bearer. Initially standeth weak The Will Of Men, for Men few rules for all Demons enforce. One such rule bindeth Demons to Truth. If a Demon lie can, it is the design of its Bearer, or a false-evolved Collective Unconscious when said Demon more fame gainth. We are not Devils from the Hells. However, even a Demon of Deceit empowered must abide so strong a tenet by Men set: that all compacts well and truly bind."

"Are you a Demon who can lie?" I raised my eyebrow.

"I am the Precept of Tenacity, not some coward. Even if I could, I won't, my word begotten."

"Then... you will not lie in a deal?" What am I asking...

"Not just will not: I can not." She flourished a bow. "Here laith my offer, Daughter of Void. Thou lendest me thy body, and I, in turn, will thy kith from the coming threat safekeep."

So she would keep my friends safe? I clutched my chest with a hand, having completely forgotten about and ignored the viscosity entrapping me.

"A pact, plain as sun-baked parchment."

My breathing accelerated. My thoughts swerved. My heart ached.

"Thou needest only to fall into the Umbra below. No harm will to thee come, my word begotten."

LunaSoltaer

Sometimes I wonder if I should have concurrent writing projects just in case. I know I should write happier books someday, but still.

Also I wanted to write one or two more scenes so that the chapter is long enough to justify the wait, but after finalising these two, I feel this is a complete unit on its own, and even though I tried adding more, it didn't want to happen. It was like the book said NO, LET IT BE.