It had taken little for Faine to receive leave. Once they arrived back at Silver Willow's base, Ilian eager to train with his new weapons and to learn more about how Faine possessed the ability to steal from Echo Market without a hitch, she struck him a deal. If he kept a secret that she was heading back to Isflean to tidy up some missions from her past job and meet with a former lover, then she'd do anything he asked.

Ilian had agreed quickly and promised—swore, rather—to keep her secret. All her belongings, she stuffed into two saddlebags and slung her right leg over the leather saddle on a unicorn's back. A fine beast from Silver Willow that Ilian made her promise she wouldn't sell for a handful of gold coins. After that promise ended with a handshake, it only took the matter of a day and a half to get from Silver Willow's base to Isflean, where the high elf father nestled within the center of the bustling city.

Rain soaked through the white coat of the unicorn and Faine's pants stuck to her legs, but the black cloak she wore took the brunt of the wind and blown leaves from swaying trees. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the city before her, stretching out in stone streets and beautiful buildings. Well-constructed and clean, she didn't have to add.

She was home.

Taking notes on the back of a unicorn wasn't ideal, but it was the only time Faine had to herself to jot down important names, locations, and pieces of information that she'd relay to Zebulon once she arrived at the base. The large diamond ring on her finger, as big as her knuckle, was one of the few treasures she brought back besides Silver Willow's ring and the claw rings on her fingers.

Once they saw her, they'd wonder how she still had space on her hands for anything else. But the claw rings gave her a certain intimidation she'd searched for over so many years that she couldn't bring herself to take them off. Their gold, scaled appearance went well with the bracers over her forearms, hidden underneath the flaps of the dark cloak.

Isflean paid the unicorn no heed, only to move out of the way of the clopping hooves. By the time Faine reached the outskirts and saw the dirt trail stretching beyond the end of the city, leading to what appeared to be nowhere, she couldn't hold back a squeal. Rising Eternity was beyond that empty expanse and nestled within the distant trees at the base of the skyline. Kaspar was there, the base was there, her bed was there. Home was there.

Faine kicked the unicorn's flank, and she broke into a trot, then a gallop when the feliram with purple skin and silver hair as bright as the moon gave the reins a firm yank. The wind tore through her cold clothes and made her skin itch with a chill, but Faine didn't care. A smile brought out her sharp cheekbones and illuminated the pool of honey that was her eyes. She wanted to scream to the world that she had finally made it back; no one was around to hear her cries of excitement.

Dragons soared in the distance from the high elf family's training grounds and their cries stretched her pointed ears. For the first time in a long time, something felt right. Her guts had twisted themselves into stress and uncertainty while she was at Silver Willow's base, she went to bed every night wondering if she'd wake the next morning, but she wouldn't face any of that here. Not around the comfortable company of her closest supporters.

The intimidating black and red base came into view and Faine slowed the galloping unicorn into a trot. Security wasn't as tight for Rising Eternity, but archers paced on the roofs to keep intruders from coming too close. Hopefully, if they hadn't forgotten about her already, they'd avoid shooting her.

The stable boys, two mortals with shuffling steps and wide, tired eyes, rushed to the unicorn. "Ensure she receives a stall of her own and plenty of hay. Most importantly, don't let her become Tyvni's next meal," Faine instructed as she slid off the saddle and gathered both bags from the back.

They moved without a word and kept their heads down, despite her doing nothing to instill fear in their hearts. Every mortal reminded her of Ilian now. They were all the same, had the same make, but some were stronger than others. She'd failed to consider that until she met him and realized just how strong and deadly they could be if underestimated. Mortals had the strength to rise, though their opposites beat them into the ground.

Faine slung the bags over her shoulders, and like she'd stepped into a new world, took a deep breath of air. It smelled of dragons and fresh grass and salted water from the ocean merely miles away. It smelled like home. Being more than ready to leave in the next three months, Faine wasn't certain whether she appreciated the fluttering in her heart. Too much attachment to a home of ninety-nine years and she might've not wanted to face the day Zebulon forced her out.

No one greeted her at the large wooden doors to the base, but the guards opened them willingly after knowing her face as long as she'd been there. Once mortals, they were now stuck in the immortality forced on them. Faine looked at them with sorrow and guilt for the way they were treated. They could've had lives, families, could've died with the rest of the mortal kin.

Zebulon forced that immortality on them, and as long as Faine could remember, they opened the doors and closed them for guests and residents. Their faces were empty, lifeless, and they moved without a skip in their step. Zebulon thought to give them an extended life was a mercy, but the rest of the world they knew was dead. Their mortal families—gone. Their freedom—lost when they became slaves and then sold to Rising Eternity.

Faine hadn't missed the long and empty hallways of the base. They stretched on forever and led to too many rooms, each of them occupied by members of the crime guild. She recognized some faces but wasn't acquainted with them enough to holler out or offer a wave. Some whispered when they saw her pass, others ignored her outright. Faine was one of the strongest, wisest, and oldest in the base—besides Kaspar. Whether it was respect or hate; her fellow members didn't reveal the truth to their nature in passing.

She wasn't certain where to go first. Kaspar was upstairs, likely in his chambers, but Zebulon's study was two turns left on the main floor of the base and if she got through that meeting quick enough, she'd have an entire night to spend with her closest friends. She was early, in time for dinner, and could sit around at a table with them in the great hall and share her stories of being part of another crime guild where she shadowed a mortal. She couldn't wait to see their mouths drop.

Some things were more important than others. Faine stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to head back to the closest staircase, but heard, "Ah, Faine! There you are." Her lip curled away to reveal her teeth for she recognized that calm, harmonized voice.

Turning back, Faine forced an excited smile onto her face. Standing at the end of the hall, his arms folded over his crimson doublet, was Zebulon. He was in fine form and fine attire. The two mortals flanking his sides were holding onto silver trays with porcelain plates of foods and glass goblets sitting atop. Great, Faine thought. Just in time for dinner.

She splayed her arms at her sides the best she could while still carrying her saddlebags. It was a way to show Zebulon she hadn't settled in yet, but knowing him, the seennouk wouldn't get the hint. He never did. "I'm back," she said dully. "I have loads of information to give."

"As I would hope."

As usual, the flame-red hair slithered back off his forehead, and like the feathers of his wings, draped perfectly down his back and ended in a point. A shiver snaked up her spine at the reminder of exactly how sickly his face had become over the years, though it had been that way since the day she arrived.

"Give me a moment to put away my saddlebags and I'll come to your study," Faine said, jerking her thumb back down the hall.

"Nonsense. This won't take very long. Besides, I'm certain you've written up an official report for me. My subjects are as complete as ever." He waved her down the hall, instructing to follow, and the mortals trailed her for they knew to never walk in front of such a powerful beast. She'd watched the whippings given by Zebulon when they walked out of turn.

Faine chewed on her lip. "Actually, I didn't have time. You see—"

"Faine," he sighed dramatically. "Must I go over this again? You have more time than anyone in the world. All you had to do was fill out a quick report on what you found."

"That would've been easy if it wasn't for the suspicious members of Silver Willow." She tried to keep her voice from rising or turning dull for him to catch suspicion. Faine had a feeling he was the type that hated if anyone despised him. If only he knew that everyone in Rising Eternity didn't care if he stopped breathing. "I cannot leave something like that lying around. Some members haven't exactly taken to my presence yet."

Zebulon huffed a laugh as he opened the door to his study. After being part of Silver Willow for so long, it was a shame to walk into a dark, damp study and find no accessible light through the windows. She hated how he left everything so dim and lifeless; the way her heart was becoming the longer she was around him.

"I suppose not everyone enjoys a snarky feliram," he mused without a care for her feelings.

The mortals had followed them on request, and for their sake, Zebulon lit a candle on his desk to instruct them where to go. They carefully set the trays down and were dismissed immediately. Faine watched them carefully walk through the room to avoid stepping on anything or tripping over the chairs on the other side of the desk. Ilian, Ilian, Ilian. That could be him. Why was she overcome with the sudden need to protect him?

An entire page of her notes belonged to him, and it was right on top. On the way here, she hadn't considered it to be anything of value, but now that she thought more about it, she couldn't risk it. Faine made a promise to herself to somehow remove that page of notes before Zebulon caught sight of it. After all, they were in her saddlebags, and if she could steal from Echo Market without a problem, she could hide something from him.

She sidestepped his obviously rude comment and set down the saddlebags onto one chair facing his desk. "How have things been here? Is Rising Eternity succeeding in their positions?" she asked.

"For the most part. I've had to hire a few new members to pick up the slack your absence, but they've taken well to training. Of course, Tyvni bit the arm off of one and another...well, let's just say he didn't fit in here—or anywhere else."

Faine stilled at that. At everything he said. "Were you using Tyvni?" The question nearly distracted her from the precise ability to hide the top page of notes and move it to the bottom of the bag while she pulled up the rest and handed them over the trays of food and wine.

"I was attempting to. Kaspar kept her corralled mostly, but she needs to be out—used as a dragon should be. If I knew she'd be such a pain, I would've put her down a long time ago."

"That is my dragon," Faine barked. Her boss raised a red brow in question, command, threat—she didn't know. All she knew was that she didn't want to create a stir so soon. Taking a deep breath to soften her tone, Faine cleared up her obviously annoyed remark. "What I mean by that is...she doesn't respond well to others riding her. She trusts me, and only me. Probably because she knows that beasts like you will attempt to use her for something else."

"A dragon should obey and do as they're asked. If not, they are not much use to me."

"You won't have to worry about her much longer. I'll take her when my time is up."

Zebulon read through the top page of notes without care. "If that is the case, you owe me one-hundred gold coins," he muttered. "She is very valuable."

After all the training she went through, after teaching that dragon everything she knew and believing her to be a daughter, a member of her family, Faine wasn't willing to argue. Tyvni was everything in her heart and if she had to give up her entire life's savings to pay for her, she would. It wasn't fair, none of it was, but that beast, as bratty as she was, was not staying behind. Not in the next hundred—or million—years.

"Understood," Faine responded, equally as quiet.

The only sound in the room was Zebulon reading through the papers, the edges crinkling when he looked through one after the other, and the occasional ruffle of his wings against the back of the chair. At least that hadn't changed.

She hadn't anticipated how this moment was to play out, but so far it was going smoother than she expected. Kaspar was somewhere within the base and she was itching to get to him, but of course, as things had worked out for the past ninety-nine years, Zebulon butted his way in.

"If you don't mind me asking, will I have any debts to pay off once this...is over?" she asked, unsure exactly how to word her departure. After so long, it wasn't exactly easy to put this journey into words.

"Of course, every member of Rising Eternity must pay off debts for receiving training and everything else included. Food, a bed, the clothes on their backs, everything. I'll give you an estimate later on when that time comes closer."

Faine stuttered over what to say next. "Well, I'd like to know now. That way I can put some money aside."

"Do you have certain plans I should know about?"

She couldn't help but scoff. "A life, yes. I'd like to live after this."

Zebulon finally looked up from the papers and narrowed his black eyes at her. The beak on his face was unsettlingly sharp in the dark and she imagined it pecking out her eyes with one simple swipe. Everything about him sickened her, down to the claws on his hands and how they gripped the paper so delicately without tearing the fragile parchment.

"Fine, since you've been here for so long...the cost of your debts will be fifteen thousand gold coins."

Her jaw dropped. "You...you can't be serious, Zebulon. I don't...I mean...I have that, but you have to give me a break. After the bullshit that got me here in the first place—"

"If I remember correctly, you were the reason for that occurrence. You willingly handed over your life and I gave you everything without you having any prior skill. Your debts are higher because I built you from the ground up. We all did. If anything, Kaspar should get a portion as well and I should charge you more for taking up so much of his time," he quipped with a sneer.

Faine didn't have the strength to argue with him, so she dragged a hand down her face and slumped in the chair. Raising her hand in defeat and slapping it back down on the armrest, she said, "All right. Fine. When the time comes, I'll pay the fifteen thousand."

"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

He sucked on a tooth and put one piece of parchment in front of another. "This Celestia woman, how much do you know about her?"

"She's the leader of Silver Willow. That's as far as I know. I haven't been around long to ask questions, but she's a fair leader that puts her foot down when it's right. She treats immortals and mortals with similar respect and recruits members herself, and has many come to her for positions," Faine explained.

"Is she involved in slave trades?"

Faine shook her head. "The only mission I've completed so far is stopping a slave trade that involved members from within the guild. From what I believe, she's against it."

"Foolish of her. I wonder how she finds guards," Zebulon said, more to the parchment in front of his face rather than her. "I've never heard of this woman, but I'm interested to learn more. When you go back, try to find more information about her past. Snoop a little more, and if you find the opportunity, sneak into her study and see what you can find."

She nearly laughed outright. "Her study is guarded every day and night. It's impossible for me to get inside."

"If that base is as esteemed as this one, there are hidden tunnels. You just have to know where to look."

"I'll take that into consideration," she said to shut him up.

Faine didn't want to mention the hidden tunnel connecting her room to Ilian's. Nor did she wish to include the mortal at all. Protecting him would come back to bite her in the ass later, it was completely against what her job involved, but if Zebulon asked her to seduce him for information...Faine wasn't certain she could do it without cracking under the pressure.

It was Ilian. How that meant anything to her after two weeks was a question she couldn't answer. Her fault had always been protecting the mortals and the weak; that was her only explanation for it.

"I've heard of Eliphas Fang; he's quite notorious in Steelmaw. I've done business with him before; I sold him slaves." Zebulon didn't look at her, but she stared him down. Her muscles were beginning to ache with how hard she was clenching.

I'm not surprised, she thought.

"So far, he's the most dangerous in the base. Thinks highly of himself and has no regard for the other members."

He chuckled darkly as he reminisced on their past dealings in beating hearts now still. "I remember that quite clearly about him. I'd like to learn more about him, as well, and why he's in both Steelmaw and Silver Willow. Normally, the two don't correlate. Too many people knowing your face and you're recognized everywhere."

"I expected the same," Faine agreed. "Though he doesn't seem too concerned with it. He'd rather eat the fingertips of his allies."

As he was too busy skimming through every bit of information, he didn't bother to ask what that meant. The tip of Ametrine's finger was gone because of him, and that wasn't his to take. Faine's blood boiled, and she tightened her muscles to keep from taking her anger out on the only living, breathing member in the room. He still hadn't touched the wine or birdseed on the desk.

Well, that wasn't fair. Faine bit down her smile. Zebulon didn't actually eat bird seed.

"You've gathered quite a bit of information here," he complimented. "But I want more. I want to learn more about their rotations, missions, and their association with Isflean. If there's a way I can pick them off when they're here, I just might do it. I want the names of the weak, the mortals, and this...this Ginevra. She seems dumb; get me more on her."

"Ginevra is hard to sway in my direction, I don't believe—"

"I don't care for the way women bitch towards each other. Befriend her by any means. For all I care, become her lover. I need to know more."

Faine sighed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Very well. Next time I come; I'll have more information."

He finally took a sip from the goblet of wine and grimaced at the flavor. The tip of his beak was stained red, visible even in the dark. "Those damn mortals," he grumbled to himself. Zebulon waved his hand about to rejoin the current conversation. "Anyway, get me that information. Less on people, more on the base, structure of their missions and plans, and payment. Focus on the important, rather than the easy to achieve."

"Yes, boss." Faine nodded quickly.

Taking another sip from the goblet he claimed to hate, he waved her off in the process. "You are dismissed. Stay the night, but I need you gone by tomorrow. Avoid suspicion."

She swelled with the need to see Kaspar, but to hear those words—it made Faine take a deep breath. She'd be glad to never see his face again and Silver Willow was a break from the horrid nature of his presence. If only she could bottle Kaspar up and take him with her. Then Faine wouldn't have to worry about seeing Zebulon again.