This masked man beside Morgana greatly amused her. "Torn to shreds inside, playing with Concepts beyond your station. How interesting it is to witness."

Faint wisps dragged along Rune's mask. He breathed slowly, playing mute. His companion hovered uneasily to his left, its green eyes fixated on Morgana.

Nearby, Ophelia Cyrn, a long-time thorn in her side, yet one she could never remove completely, and Lorcan, her opposite in many ways, fought with words as their abilities clashed by proxy. She'd seen the circus act an uncountable number of iterations by now—boring. Too mundane. Ultimately, that living flame would storm off, kin clinging to him as they left to lick their wounds.

Pushing back a light blue lock of hair with a finger, she said, "Your actions strike me as odd, Rune. For a man supposedly called in for targeting the newest Defier, little of what you've done since your initial actions aligns with your public purpose."

Lunar energy lit Morgana's etched-in cheek runes, a signature of her race. Twisting away from Rune, she sought to uproot the farce the Pyrite Patriarch kept lit. Before that, she sent an aura whisper, aimed at Rune's soul, unable to be ignored.

I keep my eyes on interesting people in Sylen, Rune. Stay entertaining, and you may be spared of my family's web.

The silver and gold twin moons shone with gentle light, swirling at her command. Humidity stuck to her flawless skin. Mists settled in the permeable lake bed, the water level regenerated, sinking into the dehydrated soil, the river unable to cope with the sudden absence.

Mud fruitlessly caked onto Morgana's chainmail boots, repelled by her lunar element. She watched and waited to see how Rune would respond, not in words, but in actions. The man's exterior appeared fine. The information she received when touching his mask revealed the disaster warring inside, under that shell.

She watched early on during his battle against the Fourth Pyre, Calista Pyrite. A way to merely pass the time, it wasn't every day a first ascended managed to evade an experienced third ascended. To manipulate an entire lake to maximize his only edge against an otherwise superior foe—thrilling to watch. She suspected the man was an evolved, or at the least, a master in Water Elementalization. No other explanations fit for his combat ability.

Supporting the City Lord to save the spell sword had been as much a move for entertainment as for strengthening her family's position. Over the years, she inherited the position of Matriarch in the Miel monic clan. A tedious affair, one no other descendant could shoulder. As such, she acted to preserve someone who directly weakened their rivals, the Pyrites. Justifications nullified themselves in the face of common interests.

Ophelia Cyrn currently aligned with her interests, both personally, and as the Matriarch. She coughed to signal her return to the conflict between Ophelia and Lorcan.

"Dispense the theatrics, Lorcan." She sharpened her posture, spear pointed down. "You want the variable dead. I want him alive, snuffing out a waxing moon is wasteful before this Tide."

With a sweep of a hand, a flame wall blazed around Lorcan's three family members behind him. A stern confidence inhabited the Sun Tyrant, he said, "Threats to the Pyrites scarcely live for long. Yet flame twists when needed by the circumstance." He put out a hand. "Audrey."

The Third Pyre attended to her Patriarch. "Yes Patriarch, your decree?"

"Add Rune to the Ash List. I expect it to go into full effect the day after this Tide ends. Our connections may make preparations before then."

Bits of glee colored Audrey's expression. She brought out not a piece of paper, but some sort of crystal stele. White flames branded the living material, on it, a new name was added: Rune. With the list full, the bottom name pushed off, all the others above it pulsed deathly black, only the newest member of the list glowed gray. Symbols to record known information on the target engraved themselves next to Rune's name.

Morgana glanced at Rune with pity. This interference of hers ended in preserving the entertainment. Most people on the Ash List were dead within months. Any affiliated with Pyrites, or wish to enter their good graces, would either hunt, refuse service to, or attempt to track down Rune. If what Morgana saw in the battle against Calista was this man's actual abilities, she figured all of those limits would be an annoyance, not the usual delayed death sentence for those on the Ash List.

Currently, the list was empty, all previous entries crossed out—eliminated or Soul Bound in service to the Pyrites. However, in spite of what was supposed to be a triumph for her family, Audrey's expression twisted in disbelief and ire.

"The ancestral stele can't pierce the illusion veil surrounding him."

Capturing the stele into his spatial bag, Lorcan picked up Calista. Audrey and Auren readied themselves.

The Sun Tyrant said, "As written in the ancient Tide pacts. Internal city conflicts come to a pause, not an end." The unending flames entered the old man, returning the ambient temperature to livable. "Keep his neck washed for the blades coming to cut it off."

His three living flames swept up the other Pyrite family members, and Lorcan flew back toward his compound, covering miles of distance in less than a minute. Ophelia and Morgana stood still, tracing the retreat. The less invested tier 3 audience left one by one, leaving only Iona—rooted at the docks—and Jordis. Morgana stored away her weapons and armor, swapping to comfortable silver-purple robes. She picked up Rune casually off the soil. "A shame you won't be present at the Tide." Lilith wailed in alarm, Lunar echoes encased her. "Don't fret, even I know not to harm the possession of a manipulative woman." The lunar energy cleansed the substances stuck to Rune's body, closing up any remaining wounds, the soul-deep ones notwithstanding.

Lenardis closed, ceasing the stream of musical notes. He faithfully came to rest in Ophelia's open hand. The City Lord commanded Jordis with a gesture, and the commander hurried to appease the building crowd that still mucked around at the warehouse line after the dockyard. A faint shuffling of the crowd was heard minutes later. One set of steps closed in, a power Morgana took note of within them.

Brown hair cascading, Iona took Rune over her left shoulder—Lulu perched on the other. Morgana put her hands on her hips at the silent assertion. Peering at Iona's blue eyes, the Matriarch read the resolve hidden in the depths.

She chuckled. "Nothing to fear, my dear. This hunter your Defier's Branch borrowed caught my interest." Morgana put both hands behind herself, leaning in. "Allow me to guess? He's being sent back to the loaned branch? Or will you invent another reason for Rune's absence from the city?"

Ophelia sought to answer first. "The transfer papers have already been certified, Matriarch Morgana. Rune will be sent back to Blacklight to sever his ties there, then be resettled in Sylen, where a man of his capability could be better used, as the Duchess has decided."

Confusion entered everyone except Ophelia.

A sly smile spread across the City Lord's face. She said, "The strength of the familial bond with my niece has its benefits." She brought out a royal edict, stamped by Katherine Elaria herself. She read aloud a section, "By the power vested in me, Rune of the Blacklight Hunter's Branch, shall be henceforth stationed in the more direly affected Sylen. He is granted no more than a week's time to settle affairs in his home branch. Defilement of my order will result in immediate border service. By my will, the talented of the Duchy serve its people."

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Resettling her weight on the shifting soil, Morgana ruminated on the implications. The royal family is making their claim on this one and sanctioning his recent actions? Bringing him under the Miel line will be more difficult than anticipated. Ophelia, that fox. Redesigning the board at her whim.

Pacing a bit, Ophelia patted the side of Rune's mask. She said, "Congratulations on your recognition, Rune. The Duchess herself issued this to me yesterday." She whispered into Rune's ear, "A mere formality, you already belong here."

Grasping onto Rune's back with her hand, Iona pulled him away from the other women. "Hunter Rune may be reassigned to Sylen after a short severing at Blacklight, City Lord. But—"

"Shouldn't he be Defier Rune? Defier Iona?" Ophelia cut the antagonistic momentum to her control.

"I beg your pardon? Rune has never taken our ritual, even if one reaches Expert in a technique as required, unless they submit to the test, they are never considered a Defier."

Putting a hand over her mouth lightly, Ophelia said, "How could I forget? Hunters aren't offered the same freedom of movement as Defiers are. You won't mind if he works directly upon request for my governance?"

Frowning, Iona said, "That is not something to ask me, City Lord."

"Very well. When Rune is recovered and his final business at the Blacklight branch is settled, I will visit. Until then." Ophelia stepped, covering great distances each time, going in the direction of the Silver Black Tower. The humming that naturally swirled around the City Lord finally ceased, allowing the natural wildlife noise to return over the lake bed.

With all the other influences gone, Morgana focused her attention on Rune, still overtaxed from his earlier battle, and Iona. She pointed with her index finger, and a wisp of moonlight settled at its tip. Flicking it, the wisp kept back the river water beginning to rush in now that the parched lake bed had been sated somewhat.

"Negotiation becomes more of a bother when soaked, wouldn't you agree, Iona?"

Tensing, Iona asked, "And what is there to negotiate?"

"Rune may be a hunter in the eyes of the public. My eyes saw the battle he endured against the Fourth Pyrite, Calista. He is, without a doubt, either a Master at Water Elementalization, or an evolved in some capacity." She stepped in, closing most of the distance Iona recently opened up. "Like Lorcan can't afford to ignore such a balance breaker, neither can I. In this troubled city, only two are a Master at any technique. How can the third be spared of my interest? And, if he's an evolved that obtained a higher life rating, no matter the particular form, well," She smiled. "Even better."

Wood and plants began to sprout from a spring Iona willed into existence. "You forget your place, Matriarch Morgana. Rune was brought in goodwill here by Musai's request to hunt down those who targeted Defier Luke and his companion before his full acceptance into the Defiers. He is not up for negotiation."

Morgana blinked, gaze trailing from Timber near the dock edge, to Lulu—who claimed Iona's other shoulder—and finally to Lilith, as she heard Rune call it, floating beside her master. She said, "Musai may have brought him here, but Ophelia got him to stay. No matter, the burden is his to bear, and mine to reap. My help, asked for or not, comes at a price, Rune. I will see it paid in the future, may the golden moon grant the eternal smile."

Bending moonlight, the Miel Matriarch climbed into the sky step by step, returning to her estate. Emalia and Calen should've come home from the auction at this hour. This obstacle had distracted her long enough, entertaining as it was. Walking away, she left a final message, words pervading over the night sky. "Debts to the Miels accrue interest, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

Morgana's experience pieced everything together. She lived over two centuries, too many coincidences stacked up for Rune to be anyone else but one. Rune had the fortune that Lorcan failed to see the fight in person, but Morgana took in every detail. There was no hiding who he actually was from her, the companion, similar technique mastery, sword style, abilities, speech pattern, and a woman's intuition. An insidious whisper wormed into Rune's ears; Morgana shielded it from any unintended recipients with aura.

"Luke Wallace. Your secret stays safe with me, pray Lorcan remains furious long enough not to figure out the truth as well. Emalia looks forward to your next visit."

As usual, the enigmatic man kept silent. The faint trembling did all the talking.

Luke smashed against the stone flooring and, after bouncing like a skipped rock, skidded against the wall.

Up above, that same mural stared back at him. A hooded figure pierced their sword through the head of a lich-like creature sitting on a throne. Her other hand gripped a phylactery. Other details stood out compared to the last viewing: a black and white substance rotated around the sword and crashed into the phylactery. A white scaled drake tore into an undead army off in the distance.

Rather than acknowledge the sheer fury radiating off Iona, who stood between him and the only exit out of this ascension room—that also doubled as a way to keep pieces of history—Luke took in the rather plain decor. Iona lobbed him past the ritual formation set in the chamber's dead center, with a wide basin of thin steps leading to the top platform.

Black and red ether streams rose visibly from the yellow-marked circle. Various materials lay within three added-on depots, indented into the stone flooring. A hiss surrounded the ether streams, and Luke felt a pressure from more than just Iona's baleful stare as she crossed her arms.

"Do you know how worried I was?" Iona said, sounding strangely similar to a motherly tone.

Luke sought support from Sooty, who busied herself with Lulu, the two getting along swimmingly. Timber acted as a sort of moving perch for them, as he trotted the outer line of the chamber. Coughing from the fine dust rising from beneath his crash site, the Reaver said, "The line to greater power is razor thin, Iona. You know better than I do, getting to tier 3 is no easy task, Defier or not."

Shaking a hand off, Iona shut the entryway, green and brown elemental power colored her eyes. "An answer suited to a fool, Luke. What you did against Calista wasn't just dangerous, but suicidal. The sheer amount of things that could've and should've gone wrong but didn't." The elf laughed at the sheer audacity. "Aruna begged to come. That brashness was too risky to allow into the tense dance between the Sylen's greatest forces. Expect her to be by sometime today or tomorrow."

Xera shook from her sheath in excitement, blurting out, "Slicing apart flame flesh, nothing like it. Elf lady, you should give it a try. Luke, when are we fighting them again?"

Whispering Tome bobbed up and down, then opened a black, etching rune symbols that translated to, 'Element Blade; a return to self'. Those two multi-form weapons drowned in the intensity, but Wayfinder steered steady.

"Cutting and controlling, you lot. Spare a thought if you will." The compass opened his clasp. "The living ice wielding you two risked far more than just his body to touch upon the Concepts." Wayfinder forced down his chain that wrapped around Luke's nape, causing the Reaver to lurch forward a bit. Certain he commanded proper attention, Wayfinder warned, "You stole insight into Master understanding, tyke, while chained to Expert. Had you not been an evolved, the price would've been more permanent in nature."

Detached from the overarching consequences, Luke stated, "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. The pieces gained were important." His body rimmed with frost as the Reaver began to stand, dusting himself off. He staggered toward the yellow circle ascension ritual formation.

"Had I been tier 2, overloading with dual Essence Feedback and Rising West to fight the Pyrite? Only one. The other excess." He clutched a fist. "But I wasn't at the time, Wayfinder. Your guidance showed me."

A blizzard formed around the ice elemental. Repressed emotions affected control. "Any other option led to death."

"You don't know that, Luke. Others may have stepped in. I would, what good is your Rune identity if it kills you?"

"What good is living if I allow those responsible for taking away my family to walk so freely?"

Sooty flapped away from Lulu, landing on Luke's upper back. The blizzard let her pass without resistance. She rubbed against him.

"Tack taken, icy." Wayfinder twisted his needle haphazardly. "Patience has its shine too, this being one of them. We've seen too many cycles by now. You grow faster than any other straggly haired, two-legged smooth skin. Rush in once the outcome is less than turning to rubbish."

Iona's two beast companions sat next to her, taking a side each. She managed a small green wooded circle around her, counter to Luke's blistering blizzard. Streaks of lightning crackled at Timber's paws, and Lulu shivered from the cold. When Sooty cawed in alarm for her friend, Luke ceased the weather pattern.

Tapping a finger on the center of her brows, Iona said, "Was it all that necessary to fight a Pyre tonight, Luke? You're on the Ash list."

"Rune is. I am not." Luke said, stopping before the yellow ritual formation.

"And when they eventually connect Rune to you?" Iona shot back.

"It'll be too late by then, I'll make sure of it. If luck is on my side for once, that family will be frozen in hell together before they realize." Luke stepped over the circle, sitting down at its center, readying himself to shatter the next chain linking to the mortal coil.

"You do understand your words are high treason against the Duchy? To declare intent to exterminate one of its Titled families—no matter the justification? That is the duty and responsibily of the Duchess to decide."

"Are you a loyalist, Iona? Or a Defier?"

"I'm a concerned friend right now. Overcome the Tide before you declare another war."

Acknowledging the argument held sway, Luke nodded, then asked, "Anything I need to know for the second ascension?"

Subconsciously patting Timber on the head while she stilled, Iona said, "The Harrowing is a one-time event. This round, you'll experience a deeper connection to your soul, but nothing that risks mental wear. The hard part is getting a feat, since you managed that, this should be smooth sailing." She wore a tired smile. "I'll be waiting. The rest of my lecture can come after."

Scratching Sooty's talons, the Reaver grunted. "Let it begin." He closed his eyes, the three circles linked to the ritual formation liquefied, beginning to meld into the Reaver.

When she was certain Luke left for the realm inside his soul, Iona dropped like a sack of potatoes. Lulu flapped back in surprise. Timber seemed to expect it, though, staying seated, paws out in front.

"What a monster he became. Who defeats someone two tiers above them? The Sin classes…" Iona clutched her bow. "This city hasn't been the same since he entered it. If he can survive the Tide." She laughed at herself. "He beat someone only moderately weaker than me. At this rate, the madman will pass me at some point during tier 2. I need to worry about my own survival."

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