The crunch of snow bounces off the dreary buildings as we shuffle our way back through the deserted city. Hungry, tired, and cold, it was not quite the boost we were hoping for, considering we had left for a hunting expedition. 

For all that had happened, I felt we weren't any closer to finding answers, and if anything, we were further from the truth than ever. I want to lean my head against the sizeable gray shoulder, needing comfort after committing acts that were so strongly against my moral code. 

As Verando limps along beside me, I know that any added weight is unwelcome. I begin to pity our lycan companions all over again, as we're all on foot now and the distance does seem far. 

In our shadows, we leave the deceased. They would be covered by the fresh snowfall now, our footprints disappearing behind us as we head as fast as we dare toward the Dead City. In the back of my mind, as I often do in times like these, I hear the faint sounds of despair as if their ghosts follow us. 

Torture was not something I condoned or felt comfortable doing, and as my fiance often said, it never leads to much. 

They only had their targets and a master; there was no scheme behind them. Though we did gain an elf and a fire mage, and in that, I hoped something would come to light and make this whole thing worth it. 

I think of the piles of pelts, the severed parts, and the carts full of merchandise left to crystalize in the snow. The freshly butchered elf would remain on the block, a massacre for any weary traveler to find yet we dare not move it. I pull the dinghy coat tighter around my body to not thread my arms through the stiff sleeves. 

Our borrowed outfits are dark but seem to accept the snow cover better in their age and state, offering better cover from anyone flying overhead. 

Gabriel would be looking for us, I'm sure. Any amount of time spent in the open was enough to get my pulse up, any crack or creak causing me to jump. We had been taken so suddenly in the night, where there were bounty hunters there must be more looking for the same prize. 

As my eyes drift, I see that the group feels much the same as the swiveling ears scan our surroundings, and the wide-eyed mages huddle close to their large lycans. 

Time and time again we were proven that magic could not be snuffed out, there was a community out there just waiting for our help, that desperately needed our help, it makes me tired just thinking about it. 

Right now I don't feel of much help to anyone, with a soft exhale, I crystalize the vapors of my breath and muse as it falls to the ground in a small sculpture. 

"Are you alright?" I ask him, keeping my voice low in the echo chamber of this dead city. 

The light blue eye glances towards me for only a moment. "Just sore." 

I struggled to believe that, knowing that it was one of the only things he truly feared. The constant pain of the nagging shoulder had been gone for months, nearing a year, I doubted he would willingly go back to that life if the shoulder was damaged. 

"How are you holding up? Did they hurt you?"

Only my pride. 

Life was the grand humbler, there was no room in it for ego, and unfortunately, I felt as though mine had grown quite large at times. I had thought myself to be quite powerful, yet I was rendered useless by fire, such a simple thing. 

I had missed that Pascal's abilities were so similar to my own, that I had totally overlooked our fire mage as having variants just as we did. I felt blind and as though I was seeing for the first time, it was so easy to fall into what was known and not look any farther. Beyond that, my body was rendered incapacitated so easily by weakness, fatigue left me exposed to the mental trauma I had suffered. 

At the thought of men forcing themselves on me, that I probably wouldn't have been able to stop them, I'd frozen and not fought as hard as I could have initially. 

"I'm an idiot."

He snorts. "I think it's quite noble to care about someone's life amid death and destruction. Reckless, but not idiotic." I can feel he's watching Tonic, drug on an ice shelf behind Legardo in a makeshift sled. He doesn't agree with bringing him with us, but the option to kill him or leave him behind lies firmly off the table. 

Pulling the hood over my head to block out the chill, I hug myself for comfort. "This puzzle is much more complex, it's difficult to look forward whilst also having a glance behind, I feel as though I can't possibly see all the moves. How are we supposed to find Fergus if we can't even foresee a bounty hunter guild? We nearly lost our lives. I'm so out of practice, I'm just-" 

I shake my head in exasperation. 

"If I practiced more; if I trained harder, I wouldn't have been snuffed out by that fire." 

Pulling his lips down into a frown, he considers this, watching directly ahead with a calculated stare. Relishing in the silence, I relax an inch, letting my tension out in a big exhale. 

"You're good at chess, are you seeing these moves and not saying anything? I feel like you hide your thoughts from me sometimes."

This surprises him, and he returns a stern look. "I have learned that telling you you're wrong without facts isn't the way to convince you. I wouldn't say that, this is not my expertise. City life has made us all quite soft, I would say. These people live out in the wild, just as we had. 

It doesn't surprise me they were able to catch us off guard, I believe we underestimated what we were getting ourselves into." 

I can agree with that, much as I don't want to. I wasn't big on making meaningful decisions without proof to back those claims up, less they came from my own mind. Intuition had gotten us into way more issues than it had solved; perhaps I'd trained him to keep his opinions to himself. 

"There was a time when we had men to do this for us. Staff, rank, a court, an arsenal of eyes and thoughts. We don't quite have that anymore. It's a learning curve."

We have come full circle to what he had asked me. Would I take over and become King once more? I had seen the light at the end of this tunnel, and I wanted to taste the glorious purity of freedom so severely I felt it in my bones. 

I ached for that family, he and I holding that glorious little boy who waited for us in the hospital. The snow ceases to fall; creating a stillness as if even the earth waited on bated breath. There was a need for reform and restructuring, and it would take a lifetime. 

Our lifetime. I feel wetness on my cheek and roughly rub it away, disgusted by the grit. I was so filthy, that it made me allow for a weak sob. 

I must look a sight, how did anyone find our way of life romantic? The weight of our situation is taking its toll. 

Verando leans closer to me, lowering his muzzle so I can stroke the fur of his scruff to soothe my taxed mental state. 

The group is silent, every being almost leaned in to hear my retort. With a nervous laugh, I clear my throat. "Well, it would appear that's the next step then. We need to build our own court and appoint positions."

Helen walks beside me, putting her good arm around mine. Sef had attempted to heal her hand, but to little effect, so we had opted to bandage it. The spiderweb of black veins that crawl up her arm indicates that we were running low on options as to what to do with the limb. 

"We're going to need more people." She interjects, "Our numbers are too small."

 "And our experience." Verando agrees. "We have a bunch of green soldiers and no one to guide them. You and I can't be the ones coaching everyone at all times." 

I felt as though the court was already forming before my eyes. Helen and Tyler had become valuable members; even with Tyler's lack of enthusiasm for my plans, he was suitable for an opposing voice. 

I find myself wishing for more people like Marcello—a good, honest soldier with plenty of experience and patriotism. I purse my lips, cursing myself for where this train of thought leads. He would never go for it, but I must ask him.

"Didn't Whitewind give you the power to create?" I keep my voice faint, my eyes straight ahead, for I can't bear his expression.

Verando steps away from me, his body ablaze with the heat of betrayal. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Tell me what other option we have, and I will gladly accept it. We need people like Marcello, we need soldiers, but it's unfair to ask humans to fight alongside magic users in a war like this. It's a conflict of interest."

"So we damn them?" Verando snaps back harshly. "We curse them to this life? It's different if they were born into it, as these people were, as I was. But cursing them? It proves everyone right that we are dangerous." 

I didn't see it that way, I saw it as survival, the only way for this species to not become lost to us forever and to introduce new blood to the gene pool. Plenty of people had naturally changed just by hearing his voice, but we weren't sure how many were out there and how many were still being hunted by this unknown group. 

I keep myself calm, not allowing myself to escalate with him. "Randy, I don't see it as a curse."

The rumble resonates in his chest, "Of course, you don't; your father saw it as a bloody gift to your people! I wouldn't wish this on anyone; the answer is no. I will not damn someone to this life."

 Pushing away from me, he storms off to walk further in the front, refusing to cater to the limp in his anger. I don't allow his words to hurt me because I know he's just angry, and it's the truth. 

He didn't like being a lycan, he had always wanted to be human, so asking him to do this to someone else seemed quite unfair but what other choice did we have? 

The sky darkens, turning black instantly, and lightning flashes across the sky. We freeze as the ground trembles, and at first, I fear it's another earth tremor. With a thunderous roar, the sky begins to crack, and a bolt of lightning strikes the earth with a white-hot flash. 

Temporarily blinded, I clutch Helen closer to my body, and Tyler throws his arms around us. In place of the lightning stands our dear friend Tiberius, late to the party but not to the planning.

 He smiles widely at us with a gracious bow. 

I felt suddenly enraged. How dare he show up so smugly at such a useless time. "And where the hell were you?" I storm towards him, trudging through the fresh fall with the intent of putting this bastard Siren on ice. 

He vanishes and appears a few feet away from me. 

"Busy. Besides, it seems as though you had it. If I had shown up, you might not have killed those pesky bounty hunters. I just wanted to see how it all would turn up and I must say, I'm not disappointed. Bravo, as always, Mr.Matesscu." He clasps his hands soundlessly, his sinister gold eyes shimmering with delight. 

"But. That's not why I'm here; there is a contract that Mr.Mercer is not keeping with his higher being, and the man upstairs isn't happy."

Verando flashes his fangs. "As if the gods would send you to speak to me."

Tiberius shrugs. "They also send me to lure horny men to their deaths, so.... I do have some use." He adjusts the leather jacket he wears and straightens his posture to look as official as possible. "Verando Mercer, you made a deal with your resident celestial being that in exchange for the shared life force of Nicolas, you would rebuild the lycan breed using the power to create. Did you not?"

The gray wolf takes a step back, considering this for a moment. 

With a smug grin, the Siren continues. "Your terms were, 'When the time was right, you would decide.' Has your grandfather put any wishes upon you?"

"No."

"Has he spoken to you at all?"

Verando narrows his gaze. "Not in a long time."

Clapping his hands together loudly, making us all flinch, Tiberius puts on his best smile. "Well then, Mr. Mercer. It would seem 'we' held up our end of the deal, and now you must do the same. Also, a reminder: don't shoot the messenger. See? I do my job. Now you must do yours." 

I knew those stipulations, but I didn't reasonably foresee using a Siren to uphold the law. It is quite ironic for a Siren to tell us to create when their job was to maim and destroy. 

"Oh, an answer quickly, Mr.Mercer, as company is coming. It would seem the energy surge called for an uninvited guest."

My eyes searched wildly, and I heard the bellow of a dragon locked onto its target. Magic, a significant surge of magic, would trigger the hunger of any beast. 

Cursing under my breath, I turn quickly towards the gray wolf. "It's Gabriel."

He shakes his head, reluctant. "It's not right."

"It's not your choice, save for who you choose. Don't make deals you can't keep, Mr.Mercer." Tiberius reminds him.

I could hear the distant wing beat as the sky began to swirl. Verando grits his teeth, and I'm almost offended he takes so long to answer. "Randy!" I snap.

"Fine!" He responds sharply as a shield forms over us. 

The clear shield shimmers and glitters as we huddle close together. It's tight quarters amongst the pounding hearts and the murmuring. Tiberius scoots close to me, not out of hope but due to the lack of room, though he does a wink in my direction. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, this bubble is not soundproof, so I ask that you keep quiet while our resident bad guy lands. We are merely under a glamour, so he can't see or smell us; please refrain from using any magic as that could give away our location and be quite unfortunate." 

I curse under my breath, eyeing Tonic, who's currently in an ice shield. 

"Cover his mouth!" I hiss towards Tyler, who promptly runs over to stuff a cloth in the enraged Lycan's mouth. We can only hope that the ice holds out as long as it takes for Master Gabriel to leave.

The dragon lands with a massive thud. Snow erupts all around us, flying from the harsh landings and spattering off the forcefield in a way that makes the cloaked man pause. 

We fall silent. 

Tyler covers Tonic's nose to silence his screams against the cloth, and we dare not even breathe as the man begins to walk toward us. He lifts his hand, and at the same time, I do. He sways the snow, and I desperately attempt to mimic the effect inside the bubble as it drifts by. My body shudders at the use, and the dragon's tongue flickers excitedly. 

Master Gabriel chuckles; I can see the glint of his white teeth in his hood. The beard is more plainly visible in the current lighting. 

"Very clever. A glamour. I could spend all my magic trying to find you in this wasteland." 

It came to my attention that we had made it into the flats of the void between the two cities.

 "Did you kill everyone in my camp?"

His voice sounds odd; I'm so used to the manic cackling, but he seems genuinely curious. It's almost soothing in a strange sense, the voice you'd love to discuss the weather with. 

"You don't have to answer; just keep hiding. Just know that I am watching you." 

His eyes glow in darkness, and Tonic lights up into a new form of mania. Tiberius rushes to him, putting his hand on the man's head to soothe him as the hooded figure leans in on our circle. I feel the glamor start to flicker, and in desperation, I send a surge of snow into the man's face.

 The dragon blows fire at us, and I feel myself slipping as I throw up an ice shield. As it melts, I contort it into a spike, and Pascal joins me as I send it surging back towards the dragon to pin it under the weight of the spike. 

As the snow settles and the hooded figure straightens, I see his face is exposed, and I am shocked to realize he looks a lot like me.

His skin is darker than mine, his eyes more chocolate than my own dark eyes, but he carried similar features in his face and nose down to the shape of his mouth. The significant difference is that he's closer to the height of my warlord and nearly the man's width. 

Gabriel doesn't look enraged or psychotic, only surprised as he bats the snow from his face and scans for the source of the attack. As my world starts to fade, we're mere feet apart, separated by glamor. I've done too much; my body can not cope, and the edges of my vision become foggy. 

My world goes black once more.