A grumble escaped Kraim as more thorns tore into his arms, drawing blood that remained its strange mix of shifting blacks and greens. He wished his body would make up its mind already on whether it would feel pain, or accept the sweet, numbing absence of his newfound power. But no, it had to be finicky, much like everything– and everyone– else.

He bent another purple, leafy branch of forest brush back, only for it to snap back at his face along with the painful presence of majik. It didn't prick at his skin though, like his own had before the power had eaten it away entirely. Instead it delved deeper, hurting something within his chest like a burning stab within the cold.

"That's because stars always burn."

The hairs on the back of Kraim's neck lifted once again. He couldn't call it a voice, but it wasn't the first time he'd heard the strange, elusive concepts in the back of his mind. The heka was talking again. There was no other explanation. Fortunately though, he wasn't an ashclaeve like The Thing of Eyes and Teeth. He wouldn't be tricked into listening.

He focused back on pushing through the disastrous terrain, frowning as the blood of his injuries spread, leaking onto his robes. Purple was the colour of Palkhiv, his clothes meant to show his devotion to the god of the Cracked sky, and he'd let it get stained. Or rather, they did. But, once he found the mirror The Thing of Eyes and Teeth had claimed was the entry to this place, they would pay.

Sure enough, it wasn't much longer until a gate of vines came into view, opening up to a bower filled with aelwarda flowers. It was in complete disarray though, the door almost ripped off its organic hinges, plants yanked up from the ground, and the single mirror in its centre, shattered to pieces.

Kraim walked up to it, examining himself. Each shard stared back with its bored, tired gaze. His robes were crusted in black and green, the blond tips of his violet hair had curled into an unkempt mess from humidity and sweat, and he was coated in scratches. Only the Crack across his face remained pristine and perfect, untouched by his travels. Untouched by the king's betrayal.

"We don't like this place. It's wrong. We shouldn't be here."

Kraim jolted, looking around him. The clearing around him was empty, only filled with yellowing grass and bright red flowers. But that couldn't be the heka. It was so loud. ...I could feel it.

After a moment, the pulsing, hollow feeling in his chest settled. He had just begun to examine the mirror again when it returned, cycling over and over within him like a heartless beat.

"Maybe We could stay a while. We know very little of the Fae. It's an opportunity to learn why they are."

"I want to see a Fae! I never got to."

"It hardly matters. They'll all perish soon enough."

Immediately, his head began to throb, and he clutched at it. Why was it so loud? Why were there so many- and of what?

"Shut up, heka," he muttered to himself, his voice low.

Then he felt it, a ripple within himself like childish laughter. "Heka? You're funny, Devourer."

"Don't call me that, and stop incessantly talking. I can't focus." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It had been like this the entire way, from the moment he'd been forced to flee the castle, until the idea to come here had finally struck him. For a single outlet of power, there were so many thoughts, all conflicting, not lining up, agreeing, disagreeing...

My mind was my one, silent escape, and now that's gone. And for what?

He glanced up at the mirror. At some point, he'd come to sink to the ground, knees curled up, staring off like a child. Every day spent drinking what most would consider poison, tallies spent with a murderer, appeasing it, putting himself at risk just to make sure it wouldn't harm another, and yet–

"Start running."

"... but why?" An uneasy laugh had left his lips. "I'm on your side."

"No Kraim," the king had cut in. "From this day on, you are exiled."

His hand balled into fists. Working as a soldier, climbing the ranks, running the kingdom... Nothing! It had all been for nothing, a life thrown away for people who simply didn't care. Now he was out of a job, funds, shelter, and as the emptiness that had come to rest inside him churned, he was reminded of yet another: food.

"You can always eat what's left of the stars."

This thought also didn't match the others. This time, the intent of unspoken words was light, playful, and childish, none of which he associated with the solid, ancient feeling of the heka in his chest. Just another thing that made no sense for him to despise.

For the hundredth time, I don't know what that means. Kraim grit his teeth, rage flaring to match his broken expression. Throwing his head back, he glared at the mirror, eyes glowing a dark blue as the air crackled around him. I don't even know what you are, voiceless thing, so leave me alone!

"But Devourer-"

The haughtiness of the feeling running beneath his skin, crawling, writhing beneath the thin layer of his hollow skin made him shiver. Kraim looked up fearfully, his gaze catching a piece of his face reflected on a single shard.

"We aren't just one thing."

The reflection spread, casting onto each broken piece, all different angles, yet all him.

"You consumed many, after all. Or rather, gave us an outlet to consume the star within you. How backwards. How strange."

"What?" He scrambled back from the mirror. But they should have been dead, gone from the second he had wrenched a dagger into their black, shapeless forms. They couldn't live on, unless—

...They're living in me.

Vilves, Palkhiv's sacred messengers, had bestowed a power and chose to house in him, and him alone. A light smile played on his face, and he rose, reaching for the mirror. His mind felt blank for a moment, and his eyes lit up with a curious, child-like wonder as he spoke breathlessly. "They chose me."

"There was no option to be had." This time the feeling came as something more mature, annoyed.

"Of course there wasn't. Really, what other options were there?" He caught sight of his hair again, and he pulled his fingers through the thick tangles until it was once again neatly parted. Presentable.

Worthy.

After all, who else was going to take back the kingdom? Who else would defeat the Stained, pushing them back to extinction? No longer would people have to fear leaving their house. Without the Stain, life would be pure, water and meat at access to all no matter their social standing, and the sky could stay open forever.

His mind trailed back to one of the carvings on the castle wall, of Palkhiv pushing the first Thing of Eyes and Teeth back behind its black edges. The god wouldn't have to close it anymore to keep looming threats out. Not after Kraim had carried out his final mission. Korim would be finally a land of eternal light after Withers upon Withers of darkness.

All he needed to do was get his kingdom back.

Not able to wait any longer, he ran a hand along the mirror, not caring if his flesh tore. He hardly felt it anyway, and he was far too excited to meet the Fae now, twisting and turning to look at every edge of its silver frame. "Now how did it get this to work?"

"I don't think We should stay. Time is ruined here."

That caught his attention. "Ruined, you say?" Craning his head around to the back, he only caught more pictures engraved into the metal. It was all of leaves though, no words or anything of much importance. "How so?"

The one that answered felt unsure. "We never strayed near here. The Fae can cast what they call illusions, but it's only a thin veil of reality that lays on top of the first. Both exist at the same time, creating another timeline, another place, until it all overlaps. Whoever made this realm though... they are gone. It collapsed."

Kraim grimaced, stepping back. Nothing of what that Vilve had said made much sense, and yet, even without activating the power, he could feel what they had meant. It was as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over him, the air– no– world, stuffy. He narrowed his eyes at it, reaching up. Ever since he had created his first Crack, he'd been able to feel every tiny piece of the world slowly falling apart, headed towards some glorious, inevitable end, but this was far worse. The air vibrated as he touched it, rippling like a layer of water. It bit at him– not his flesh, that was fine, but his very core trembled at it.

"We shouldn't be here. This place needs to be destroyed. The illusion being held onto far too passionately. Soon it will collapse, taking out others with it."

If Kraim could look at the forces within himself, he would have shot it a blank stare. "All right. And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?"

The same pulsing from before leapt up at that idea. "Break it until there is nothing left."

The message was followed by a strange feeling, elation spreading through him at the idea. Kraim glanced at his hand again, at the skin pulling and tearing away from itself to open the Cracks once more. The purples and blacks beneath it shot out to lap at the air like a jagged flame, tasting it. A strange taste filled his mouth, of something slippery and bitter, and with that, he twisted his hand to the side.

Shatter.

Something in the air seemed to part, wrinkles forming as one reality pushed away from another, the scene around him crumbling like curtains shoved aside. In the small space between the two sides lay an image of a room woven of reeds. The mix of the Vilves' emotions clamoured in his mind, but he ignored it, lifting a single, black sandal to step within the strange space.

Immediately, the majik of the new reality bit at him, far worse than before, the space closed behind him, and he was trapped somewhere new. A place with two thrones, a single pedestal betwixt them holding a shared crown. The room was coated in the dark blue of dried Fae blood, flecks still scattered across the walls. Kraim bent forward, inspecting it when his exposed toes met stone, dashing sharp pain across his bones.

A hiss left his lips, and he pulled his foot back. His face felt tight, the Crack across it ripped across it further. He brought his hands up, preparing to tear the offending stone in two, when he caught sight of its unique shape, like a statue on its sides. A Fae woman, her frizzy hair and ice cold glare captured in perfect detail. Too perfect, almost.

"What are you doing here?"

Jumping to attention, Kraim spun around to find the entrance of the room, a doorway made of vines braided together, its frame holding a single, unmal Fae. The neither masculine nor feminine ruler stepped forward, long black hair hanging over a bandaged face. Their hand reached for the long sword kept at their waist, lifting it until Kraim found himself at weapon point for the third time in two days.

"Ah! There's no need for that." He took a step back, trying to give the person a smile, but it was clear they couldn't see, both eyes completely covered. "I've come to offer a proposition."

A grumble left the Fae's throat, the weapon staying raised. "The last time a Stained broke in here claiming that, I lost my wife. You'd better rethink your decision before you learn exactly what I wish I'd done to it."

Closing his eyes, Kraim drew in a deep breath. He wasn't Stained, but he had come here for a reason, and couldn't afford to argue. So instead he sighed, relaxing himself. There was no point in smiling; the ruler wouldn't see it anyway, but he did keep his voice light. Pleasant. "Actually, I am not the Thing of Eyes and Teeth, so I'd be much obliged if you lowered your blade. I'm here on behalf of not the Stained, nor the kingdom, but of all of Humankind."

A frown pulled at their lips, their pointed ears pulling down in annoyance. "You've come to the wrong place. Fae are not Humans, and we have never wanted to work for you." Then their anger subsided slightly, dropping to a pleading apathy. "My people have suffered enough, now let us be."

A small hum left Kraim at that, his eyes wandering the room. The Vilves had been right. This place was wrong, the sporadic, tickling feeling of everything slowly coming undone far, far stronger here. He turned back to the Fae. "Are you aware that the illusion you've created is falling apart?"

Another flicker of rage. "So what if it is? It's all we have left."

For not being able to see, their head turned in the direction of the statue on the floor, as if they had been here so many times, they simply knew. "It's all I have left."

Ah. Love. The strange feeling that claimed so many, turning them into illogical, dependent beings. He couldn't fathom why anyone would want to spend so much time with another. It sounded maddening, and yet- "You care for her, I presume?"

"More than anything."

"Yes, well..." Kraim trailed, looking at the figure on the floor once more. "I might be able to bring her back." After all, he could feel the way time moved, in its sturdy, layered way. Every time he'd opened a Crack, warping father and farther away from the army that had chased him, that was what he was doing: ripping a small tunnel through it, and stepping through. What's stopping me from focusing a Crack on her, dragging her not across a distance, but back to a place before The Thing of Eyes and Teeth killed her?

"We are not meant to bring Humans back. It would not please the Entity."

Kraim ignored the response though, more concerned with the way the sword was being pulled away from his throat, the Fae giving him their full attention.

"What? You can do that?" they whispered.

He waved it off. "I admit I'm still rather new to things, but I'm certain I could figure it out. It's simply a different direction than I usually travel."

Instantly, hands were roughly grabbing at the long, magenta shirt beneath his robes. "Please! You have to. Our kingdom is falling apart without her."

"Your kingdom is falling apart regardless." He pushed them off, taking a step back to brush himself off. "You don't have much time left before this place collapses with no one to uphold it now, which– incidentally enough– brings me to my reason for being here."

Despite the wraps on their face, it wasn't hard to see the disapproval on it. "Of course. Humans, Stained... never able to help another if it brings no benefit to you," they spat, words cold.

"Strange. I distinctly recall the Thing of Eyes and Teeth reporting back to us that your own kind refused to help because ah- what was the reason again?" He glanced at his wrist, at how a Crack weaved around it, his own flesh peeling off into droplets to orbit around it. Fascinating. "– oh right. It wouldn't benefit your people."

"What it asked of us was suicide. The Stained are at the brink of victory, and your kingdom believed a few of our soldiers would stop it? The world is ruined, and there is no bringing it back."

Another smile played at his lips again, hands clasping behind Kraim's back. "And what if I told you there was? If I can bring back your wife, what stops me from doing that to another? To everyone?"

They bit at their lip, saying nothing. He was close now. A few more points and they would find they agreed to his simple demands.

"The only thing in my way is the Horror, which given your circumstances, I presume you wish to take out as well? Not too much of a favour to ask for, in my opinion."

They laughed bitterly, crossing pale arms. "As much as I want to, you honestly think we could take it out? Even if leaving here didn't make this realm collapse, I already failed to take it out."

"On the contrary," Kraim crooned. "You survived it once before. I assure you I hold enough power to tear it to shreds. All I need is someone like you: skilled with a sword, unable to fall to its heka, and courageous enough to carry out one final battle."

"...what you want is a shield to save your own skin."

Kraim's foot began to tap impatiently on the floor. Palkhiv, they are stubborn. "I more mean an ally. Would you rather I take it out alone? No wife, no vengeance, all alone until your final turn when this place falls in on itself, the last of your people taken with it?"

"No!" Their hands grabbed at the green folds of their dress, bunching it up in desperation. "... but there's nothing I can do about it. Especially the last part. I'm sorry."

As they stood there, Kraim backed away, heading further into the room. Past the chair and blood was a large opening, making way for a balcony. He entered it, looking down over its edge. Below him were mounds upon mounds of soil, filled with what he knew were hundreds of mummified soldiers beneath. Past that came boxy houses, Fae carting jugs of water on their heads and trying their best to support each other, after what the Thing of Eyes and Teeth had done. After what he had let it do.

His face fell, watching them all, something like regret stirring in his chest. "Are you aware of the fact that, four hundred Withers ago when the world came to be, Humans and Fae were the same, all working under the term Human?" he asked softly.

"Yes? I don't see what that has to do with much."

"The only reason there was any bit of separation was the rumour that the king at the time was Stained, and the Fae was the name of the rebel forces with their generally superior majik." Kraim shrugged. "Aside from that, there isn't much difference between the two. It's been twenty-two generations or so since then. Perhaps it's time we returned to a more unified state once more. No more animosity."

Another scoff. "Your pathetic Human king is still in charge. Whether you are an adversary for them or not, I have no wish to share the throne with them."

"Oh no. No no no." Kraim shook his head, letting the blond tips of his hair fall into his face. "There will be no throne sharing. Once I find the Thing of Eyes and Teeth, I will be taking its power. And when I do, I'll be taking my position back. That man has no right to hold a crown. With your help, you can get a kingdom back, save your people, the one you love, and I can make the final move against the Stained."

He moved away from the balcony, tracing a finger along the bannister until he was once again next to the Fae. "Do we have a deal...?"

"Ilysi."

"A lovely name. Mine is Kraim Azjuri, advisor of Korim. Now–" He held out his left hand to form the agreement. "Ehna fe hamra?"

"No. The promise will stay unbroken." Ilysi nodded, taking hold of his hand and giving it a firm, solid shake. That was all it took to bind it, and then they let go, letting their arm fall back to their side. "I do see a problem with your plan though."

"And that is?" Kraim asked as he brought his hand up, forcing another black line to spread across the rippling air. It would be difficult, forming a Crack large enough to transport this entire place out of this realm and into the one next door, but he would manage, for them.

"We have no whereabouts on The Thing of Eyes and Teeth, I am assuming, since you are coming to me for help. How are we supposed to kill it if we don't know its location?"

"Oh that." Kraim chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry about that. I know it very well from the time we've spent together. It's gone running to the only place that has any chance of taking it back."

"Home."