Isla skipped the line, rushing towards the front. The guards eyed her approach, their swords raring to fight, but she approached defenseless with hands-free.

"Get in line!" The same foul-mouthed God hater roared.

She neared him, a foot away. "I need to see the Queen. The Gods will attack," she voiced, low and quiet. "Unless you want me to make a scene, let me go. I'm sure hysteria isn't what you want right now."

The guard glowered, but the flippant emotions he displayed simmered. "Go!" he growled.

Interesting. Did he believe her or had Nirvana spread some kind of news? Though if her assistance were true, then she predicted her return. What did this mean? She sighed, forget this decoding, the time for action continued to dwindle.

She picked up speed, heading straight for the central keep. The guards stood straight and remained rooted, granting her passage without inspection. She followed the same twisting route, unperturbed by the harsh reprimanding looks of officials.

At the corridor's end, she threw the door open. Nirvana stood, staring out the expansive window. The loud bang pulled her attention and she glanced at Isla's intrusion.

"You're late!" Ahni jumped up, dashing towards Isla and encasing her leg.

Isla stiffened and glared at the witch. "You lied to me. Explain."

The old woman threw her head back and laughed. Her mouth quieted into a thin line, joining her slitted eyes. "Why must I explain myself to you?"

"Maybe because my father wants me to destroy Arcadia, and right now, you're giving me a pretty damn good reason why I should."

"You wouldn't dare."

Isla crossed her arms and relaxed her face. "Care to place a bet?"

Nirvana raised her fan, concealing her lower face. Her amethyst studded eyes maintained their imposing air, their glint magnified by the pin-holed display.

"That sounds like a no. Now, explain," Isla growled.

She sighed, dropping her fan alongside her facade. "This is not a competition. Not when lives hang in the balance."

"Glad we can agree on one thing. But this game of withholding information ends now, I don't have the time for it, nor do others. Make this easy, for both of us."

Nirvana glided forward with soundless steps and settled herself upon a stiff high backed chair. "Very well. Ask away."

"Why send me to the Underworld? What purpose did it play?"

She crossed her hands, leaning back. "Tell me, did anything happen while you were there?"

"I almost got killed, no thanks to you."

"Please, like that would have happened."

"Oh really? Let me guess, you assumed I knew some Nobles already and they just so happened to be within the capital city. Miraculously, I would succeed in reaching out to them and gain their aid. Does that sound right?"

She frowned. "And, was that it?"

"Was that it?" Isla mocked. "You're kidding. Don't tell me this was another ploy by my sisters. Something about how they can see the future?"

"Did nothing else happen!" Nirvana inquired.

"Their King awoke. Happy?"

"Good. There is still a chance yet. Though weaker, we had surmised your presence could break his slumber. Your sisters and I gambled on your strength." She relaxed back, settling into the chair.

"Are you hoping he'll aid us? That he'll stop my father. What exactly would be in it for him?"

"War. Chaos. Blood. Anything and everything. He's old and bored, and there's nothing more enticing than prey who acts tough."

Isla chuckled. "Are you serious, he'll kill for fun? What sense is there in that?"

"What would you do if you've done it all? How would you pass the time?"

"I don't know, I don't have such leisure."

"None of us do. But logic necessarily does not follow the strong. They have no need for it."

Isla wrung her leg free, pacing before Nirvana. Was awakening the Demon King prudent? Why risk stability for one shot at slaying the monster? She paused her walk, propping her hands on her hips. "You're gambling with all of humanity. Even if the Demon King kills my father, by your logic, the Humans would be next. Why not strengthen the blood contract instead?"

The witch snorted. "Did Rein tell you that?" she murmured. "No, nevermind, he wouldn't have known."

"Skye knew—but that begs the question of why didn't you just explain Rein's status. Why dodge my questions about him? Why continue the defamation when his infiltration already succeeded."

"And risk his position? Please, why must I alleviate your concerns? Figure it out yourself."

"Oh look, the witch presents herself," Isla scoffed.

Ahni giggled beside her. "Quite true."

"You mock me and ask me to endanger a fellow Arcadian. For what, your pathetic pity party?"

"I'm amazed no one has ever questioned your lack of emotions. Must we all be unfeeling prudes like yourself?"

"And you forget, this unfeeling prude has protected Arcadia for years. Lives depend on me to make the correct decisions. What could you understand when you hold no responsibility? You whine and quibble when your decisions affect a single man. You fail to see the picture's entirety. How selfish do you wish to be?"

Isla's jaw tightened. Why did this conversation repeat? First Rein, now her, what did these people expect from her. She faced death at each bypass with survival hinging upon chance. Instead of comfort, she received blasphemy and a lecture.

"Why can't I be selfish for once," Isla yelled. "My heart gets stabbed, my bones get snapped, my blood runs free; what more suffering must I entoil for your pathetic happiness and freedom? He chases me! Not you, not your stupid Arcadia."

Nirvana snapped her fan shut, tapping her chin. Yet, Isla's taunt drew no response.

"Nothing to say?" Isla continued. "Instead of plotting the creation of some new figurehead, why didn't you just strengthen the blood contract? Why drag me into your self-proclaimed altruism?"

"Because the contract was weakening even without your involvement. Trust me, we had no choice," she mused but added, "Act as you may, we have common interests. Your binding with Arcadia will strengthen our defenses."

"What use is that when he's sending his army here?"

"I see," she murmured, "so it's time." She stood and pointed her fan Isla's direction. "The timing is perfect." She smirked.

"What?"

"Let us finish the passing of power. Come here," she commanded.

Isla glowered but crossed the room and both her hands were swept into Nirvana's cold grasp. Age withered her skin and thawed her fat, but strength persisted.

"Wait for us!" Ahni whined before squirming between them. She threw her hands up and clasped the double pair.

Isla watched the witch's movements as she released raw aura. Like scentless lavender tinted smog, her aura expanded from her body.

"Focus your aura into Arcadia's mark," Nirvana said.

Her eyes traced the mark, the hidden figure magically engraved upon her hand. She concentrated, drawing the magic over each line and swirl from memory. Her aura replicated her mind, bringing the invisible scar to fruition.

Isla gazed up, waiting for her to continue. Nirvana breathed out, directing the purple clouded aura into Isla's hand. The raw magic transformed from shapeless mist to individualized thin fibers twisting and connecting to the mark.

With each attachment, her hand ignited and the pain crescendoed, the mark glowing from pale to a blinding brilliance.

Isla bowed over as her breathing choked and her lungs ceased. Her hair clung to her face and neck from the perspiration moistening her skin. Still, the bearable heat magnified from a tropical wetland to the Chaos Realm's hottest depths. Streams of smoke wafted upwards, the burnt tinge of flesh rising to her nostrils.

Nirvana abandoned their hold, and Isla collapsed, clutching her chest from the shudders. She released the dam containing her aura, screaming her commands of transformation for a cooling effect. But relief shunned her, and her steady expectations morphed into a temperature retreat, freezing her hand.

Isla moaned, tears pricking her eyes. The blood within stunted and solidified, erasing all sensations. What happened to her control? This level of failure placed her at a beginner level, a place from centuries ago.

"What's going on?" Isla hissed, "what have you done?"

"Both ownership and activation grants you control over Arcadia's aura. What else could it mean? Has the pain affected your brain?"

"Stupid woman. You should have told me my control would degrade to an amateur's level before I used any magic," she growled.

Nirvana grabbed her hair, yanking forward. "Watch your words, child." She released her hair and Isla fell backward, landing against the carpeted floor.

Isla gritted her teeth and glared.

"You must learn and form an attachment to Arcadia. Do not think you have gained some instantaneous boost in strength."

"Oh, really? I wouldn't have guessed. Now, why don't you explain my control issue?"

"Your control remains true," Ahni murmured, dropping down next to Isla. Her eyes remained unfocused, dazed and distracted. She drifted within a trance-like state, awake but occupied elsewhere.

She gazed at the spirit. "What do you mean?"

"Look within."

Isla relaxed and closed her eyes, concentrating on her soul. She imagined a solid, unwavering flame both colorless and transparent. She receded her view, lessening her focus of the center. The flame warped and delicate petals unfurled from the gem-shaped middle. They encased the bud, ready to bloom.

She continued to withdraw, the petals untwining into threads, their essence flowing and spreading. The thin filaments shaped themselves, combining into thick stalks.

Isla watched her aura and the flowering transformation. Ahni was right. Her control neither deteriorated nor dissolved, but rather, her aura grew. How was this possible? Isla snapped her eyes open.

"An after-effect like a miracle drug," Ahni spoke as a smile played upon her lips.

"Impossible."

"Abnormal, yes, but possible. We hypothesize your continual growth was urged forward. The sudden exposure to a bottomless pit caused a surge. An intriguing outcome."

Could Ahni's explanation be the answer? Truth be told, an outlandish reason meant nothing. No, the outcome proved far more rewarding. A dream, a miraculous dream; did fate relinquish her despair? For once hope appeared, could she fight him? Not yet, at least not alone. The power was still uncontrollable, but could she materialize?

"Would materializing be possible?" Isla questioned.

"We believe so. Your aura has doubled from before. A tad frightening with how much potential your soul has."

Nirvana snorted. "It still isn't enough, not against him."

Ahni leaned towards Isla. "The witch is jealous. You are bound to surpass her," she whispered.

"Silence, little one."

Isla ignored their banter, forming a fist. Could she at least make a difference? The thought held weight. She stared at Nirvana. "I need to go," Isla voiced.

"And what about the defenses?" Nirvana cocked an eye, questioning her decision.

"I have a place I must go. Arcadia is only one of his stops. I believe he plans to attack Detra as well."

"Detra? The world that Pureblood came from?" She sighed. "Very well. Make your own decisions, we shall stand strong here. Ahni will relay our situation."

She yielded? No further questions or condescending remarks, that was it? Isla expected for her to evaluate this decision as detrimental to her future schemes, choosing the Arcadian livelihood over inferior Normals and Purebloods. Was she feeling responsible over Rydin's death? Doubtful, but peculiar.

"Tell me. How do I materialize?"

Ahni twirled a finger. "Like a shield, wrap a condensed layer of aura around yourself. Then recall your destination. Be mindful, greater distances require comparable amounts of aura. If the destination is outside your capabilities, your body will never reform. Simple."

"Simple?" Isla balked. "Sure doesn't sound so. How do you calculate the amount of aura needed then?"

Ahni scratched her nose and shrugged. "Trial and error?"

"Got a better idea? One without bodily harm."

"The spell is outside our knowledge. Maybe one well versed and experienced with the spell could explain," Ahni remarked, glancing at the old woman.

"If only one existed," Isla murmured and joined Ahni, staring the witch down.

She sighed. "Merely halting the spell and redirecting the aura elsewhere when you feel the separation of mind and body. Common sense," Nirvana muttered.

She absorbed her words and concentrated her mind, drawing her aura outward. With care, she crafted a second skin from aura. At first comforting, but the multiple layers amplified the subtle vibrations, shaking her core.

Isla recalled the strongest image she had of Lutenberg. Sure, the experiences and memories with Rydin weighed heavy but too time-consuming and fraught with dangers of change. Instead, she visualized the hidden chamber and locked underground of Callum's protected transport sphere. She remembered the midnight painted scenery, the shadow thriving corners and the musty odor.

The aura cloud cloaking her body fluctuated into existence, gold and opaque. Her shield and protection, the shining hue would guard her transition. Nirvana and Ahni had long disappeared, their sight dissolved by her magic. But with her aura diminishing and turning translucent, light vaporized to dark, exposing the sullen centerpiece once housing the aura-maintained liquid orb. She returned to Detra.

Re-tracing the route to above ground, she inched the last door open. Her gaze peered upwards at the rain-beckoning clouds streaming past.

Yet, the dampness layering this forsaken world like a second skin softened the burnt and bitter abnormality of scorched wood.

Isla neglected her wariness, rushing outside, her eyes widened as they skimmed the area. The city laid ablaze.

Fire devoured everything wooden and smoke billowed from the stone-lined furnaces. The combustible roofs flared with flames, the embers pelting the streets below. Everything ravaged became weak, the final remnants plunging downwards.

Screams resounded around her from survivors. Even before her, a child kneeled weeping over her dead mother. Soot stained her clothes, her hair blanketed with ash and her eyes lifeless.

Isla wriggled her nose at the stench of death. More evidence of his plots and games. They deserved this? Lies. No one did.

Her jaw tightened and her fists clenched, nails digging deep. How dare he.

The girl's wails continued, drawing her mind away from anger. Staring down the beaten and broken street, she stalked forward. She had to find him. She had to find Leef.