Peace and quiet wrap the steep slopes of Mount Vasim in a tender embrace. Seated upon the rocks that look out to the darkened western sky, Ligari lets out a slow sigh, closing her eyes. If she lets the night drain away enough of her thoughts, she can simply drift into the silence, taste the soft song of energy as it rides through every fibre of this dimmed world.

The brush of the winter breeze. The keening of the tree boughs, the rustle of their sparse leaves. The Cormé souls far below, buried in a deep sleep, minds alive with bright colours of magic they can only dream of.

The lingering flare of Fiesi's flame, faded into wild sparks of warmth. The tainted darkness that twines with it.

Ligari's eyes snap open. She inhales sharply, tilting her head back as she endures the grating shiver that pours through her bones. Noli's dark power has diminished with distance, too, yet his touch still strikes the air in jagged waves, enough to crack the energy's delicate balance. Once she lets it flood into her senses, it overtakes all else.

"Unnatural," she says in a shuddering breath, then shakes her head and rises, dusting the gold-lined drapes of her emerald dress. She should be used to the darkness's presence by now. It follows her as a shadow.

She takes one last, sweeping look at the stars. Perhaps there is a little comfort to be drawn from the feeling, warped as it is. Mayci's boy is still alive.

A day and change has passed since she last saw him. Fiesi's intentions had been clear. They still are, snatching at the air in a serpentine strand of anger and fear. But they have not come to fruition, at least not yet. As long as Noli lives, she can dare to hope, foolish as it might be.

There's no one parent she can connect him to. He has Mayci's determination, her eagerness, her wonder. He has Rishi's quiet confidence and deep-rooted care. His hair is his mother's. His eyes belong to them both.

And, just as you couldn't save them, you cannot protect him.

Ligari stiffens. The thought is hers, every strand plucked from her own guilty resignation, yet in the same glance it is not. She knows who she will see before she turns, the voice she will hear without listening.

"You must be getting old, Ligari."

Cool calm is an easy skin to slip into. She refuses to give Harlow anything else. With a smile she knows won't reach her eyes, she steps down from the rock she perched on, meeting his piercing green gaze. "As must you. I hear a clueless fifteen-year-old boy succeeded in giving you the slip."

As she speaks, she dips again into that place of energy, shying from the dark and moulding that which she can extract from the air between them. The slightest shimmer of a barrier blurs the lines of his form, his navy tunic washed through with waves, extra wisps added to his mop of jet black hair. It's subtle, but he'll notice. She's learned countless times not to underestimate Harlow.

A knowing glint enters his eyes, and he takes a deliberate step closer, his own energy rippling the barrier. The darkness he leaks isn't as potent as Noli's, but she inhales its bitter wrongness all the same. "So he has been here."

Ligari doesn't flinch. "Don't act like I gave that away. You knew where he was headed."

He only hums, pacing again, curving it so that his drifting hand only just skims the barrier. His head turns to look out at the slopes below, the mountains and hills that roll on to a bleak horizon. "Where did he go?"

Straight to the point, no dancing around it. "You haven't changed at all."

"Is the Kynig boy still with him?" The questions are casual, tossed into the quiet with an almost careless air, and yet she hears the edge of frustration beginning to splinter their edges. Satisfaction settles Ligari's smile.

She reaches a coil of magic to the gold ribbon at her waist, examining it as she pulls it tighter. "Still can't get into my mind, I gather?"

"Tell me where the boy is, Ligari." Even as he whirls towards her, threat cutting through his tone, his expression is flat. False anger, a tool at his disposal he no longer fully understands. It's almost sad to witness. "I'd rather we kept this civil," he adds, his fingers tapping at the sword sheathed at his side. "For Mayci's sake."

Her thread of magic snaps, the ribbon falling loose. She clenches her fist, hardening her barrier. "You lost the right to use her name as an excuse a long time ago, Harlow."

A frown creases his brow. "Why?" The question sounds genuine. "Why is it that I've become the villain? You were the one willing to kill me -- and your own sister, I might add -- for breaking a rule I was unaware even existed merely for my own survival."

"You did more than that." She grits her teeth, willing him not to get under her skin. Her scalp itches. He's still tapping at the edge of her mind, seeking a crack. "You were dangerous."

He still is. More so, even. Perhaps this man is the one Fiesi Kynig should be hunting.

Humming under his breath, he swings around, pacing the length of the barrier in slow strides. "Dangerous. A fascinating word."

"Volatile. A risk to us all. Call it whatever you like, you know what you are, ro étoi." She meets his eyes, does her best not to shudder and look away. "You name yourself a Cormé advocate, and yet you crawl inside the minds of them and pull strings, a puppet master placed upon a pedestal of your own making. You speak of freedom and exercise control. You'll tell me that those who venture into Adeía are not defined by their darkness, and yet you will force this innocent boy to do your bidding just like the rest. You will create the destruction you always claimed was beneath you. Tell me, what part of you is not villainous?"

He halts. For a long moment, he examines her, thoughtful, pondering. A glow lights his eyes. "The part that loved your sister."

Splitting pain erupts in Ligari's skull. She gasps, dropping to her knees within the instant, hands clapped to her head. Thought becomes slippery. She can't grasp it.

He's done it. Found the crack. It took him such little time.

"Stronger," she manages, sucking in a steadying breath, agony ripping through her as her magic makes some feeble attempt to push back. "You've gotten stronger." Once the touch of Adeía has oozed in, there's no shoving it out. Its fangs dig deep, leaving crevices in their wake.

Somehow, she wrenches her head up, meeting his eyes. A dullness unfolds in her heart, sheltered from his power's effect. "What must it have cost you?"

He offers no inclination of a reply. His boots tread down the grass as he approaches, crossing the space where her shattered barrier stood. A hollow sort of laugh breaks from him, echoing strangely in her ears. "Gloves. I used to have a fondness for those, you know."

He starts in a slow circle around her. Ligari scrapes her nails through her hair as if the small motion will drive him out. It's unsettling. After the initial burst of pain as he shredded her walls, her mind is oddly quiet. If she'd had no protection up, she might never have felt him enter at all. Is this what it's like for his Cormé? Constantly used, following orders without question, never sensing a thing?

Still, she can't bring herself to rise from her knees. Unnatural exhaustion pours through her limbs, the tax of his presence.

"Huh." He stops in front of her. "The Kynig boy did attempt it, at least. I was under the impression he'd had a change of heart."

Despite herself, Ligari smirks. "I suppose you're not all that powerful."

"Tía minds are unique. They are filled with bright flares of emotion, tangles of turmoil even I can't entirely decipher. It is rather fascinating to observe, however." He glances down at her. "You could see so much, Ligari, if only you'd stop refusing to look."

Biting her tongue, she stares at the ground. She can't let herself snap at him. Not with him rummaging amongst her thoughts, revelling in every spike of feeling, drinking it up the way Cormé drown their sorrows in poisoned drink.

A weight suddenly presses on her chest, sinking out as a sigh. "Is this what you've become?"

"Ah." Another empty chuckle. "Is this the part where you call me a monster?"

Perhaps, yet that isn't what he is, not truly. "You've lost yourself," she says, bowing from the heavy drag of her words. "You spend so much time in the minds of others that you've forgotten who you are." Her gaze flicks up. "Don't claim you loved Mayci, Harlow. You haven't been capable of love in a long time."

"I won't deny the price I've paid." He steps back. It's difficult to tell whether or not he's released her. "But which of us is kneeling before the other?"

Ligari presses her teeth together, begging for the strength to rise. "Do the Cormé kneel for you, too?"

"They would if I asked."

"Noli will not." She curls her fists, pressing every bit of futile hope she has into that surety. "You can't control him, and you can't buy his loyalty. All you seek is your downfall."

Metal scrapes. He's drawn his sword. The blade catches at the edge of her vision, still as stone, one slice from cutting into her neck. She doesn't flinch, doesn't shake, doesn't lift her gaze. If he wishes to kill her, so be it. She is dead to the world already.

"The boy craves connection." A thoughtful hum drifts from the statement. He's still piecing together threads of her thoughts. "Family."

A jolt strikes through Ligari, stealing her next breath. The intention in his voice is clear. "You cannot lie to him."

The blade edges closer, pauses. She fills her head with defiance. The barest smile tugs at her lips when he gives up and removes the sword, clearly dissatisfied with her reaction.

He's quick to snatch the victory from her. "You already have."

The sword slides back into its sheath. His backward step strikes the earth. "I hope Noli does learn the truth someday. I wonder who he will favour: the criminal acting for the good of the people or the onlooker who hides and watches them suffer."

He doesn't wait around for a response. With the final, flat words, he leaves the mountain ledge behind, leaving only the sour taste of death in his wake.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

Next draft, I'll probably place this -- or a scene of a similar vein -- in place of the current final chapter, but for now it's a fun bonus. I hope it's nice to get a peek at what happened to Ligari, since I kind of dropped her lol. But don't worry, she's fine. It's all fine.

Also!! A fun reveal about Harlow's magic :D I thought it was important you got that insight before we run into him again in the coming sequel. Jeía magic is very interesting to play with--

I hope to see you all in A Deadly Bite! :D

- Pup