Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Solinae stood alone in a void, watching what happened as if she were watching a play on stage.  She knew she was dreaming; she’d had this same dream multiple times in the past few months with more detail added every time.  Knowing none of it was real, she let her dream unfold on its own. 

Appearing from the darkness, standing across from her about thirty feet away was an emaciated figure with a striking appearance.  The figure had skin the color of charcoal, a pair of even darker curved horns, a bony tail with a spike on the end, and four golden yellow eyes lacking pupils.  He wore nothing but a dark red cloak and a loincloth, and gazed at her intently.  A devil, if she was not mistaken.  

The devil approached her calmly and stopped; far enough to be distant, close enough not to be.  Solinae tilted her head curiously, to which he gave her an unreadable smile.  He bowed deeply and offered her his hand.  When she took it, a melancholy violin piece she was unfamiliar with began to sound.  He drew her in slightly closer and they danced.  

She could not say for how long their dance lasted, though she recalled it being a fairly slow waltz.  She’d been too lost in the music’s beauty and the devil’s hypnotic gaze to notice much else.  

Once the music faded away and their dance ended, the devil swept her off her feet and set her down gently on a sofa that had not been there before.  He knelt down beside her and began to sing, his captivating baritone voice making her mind drift off as she lay there with her eyes shut to listen.  

Once his song ended, she heard words echo in her head as the line between dream and reality blurred.  “Soon, my dear,” the devil’s voice said.  Before her dream-self could say anything in reply, she found herself once again alone in her bed, right where she had fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

Slowly waking from sleep, Solinae knew immediately something was off.  She wasn’t lying in her bed, but on a hard, rocky surface.  Bolting upright, she looked around her.  She was in a stone cavern lit only by a pair of torches that made the shadows on the walls dance eerily.  

She was nearly certain she wasn’t dreaming, it felt too real.  Standing up, she shook some dirt off her nightdress and examined the space more carefully.  The spacious cavern was reminiscent of an amphitheater.  Other than the two torches, there were no other sources of light.  On the other side of the cavern was a pipe organ, much like the ones she’d seen in some of the theaters she’d performed in.  

Baffled by the presence of an organ in a place like this, she cautiously approached it.  Before she could get very far however, a deep, male voice resonated through the air.

“Awake now, I see,” the voice said.  

Solinae spun around, expecting to see the source of the voice behind her, but found no one.  “Who’s there?”  she demanded.

“Please, you have no cause for alarm.  I am no foe, if that is what you fear.”  

About twenty feet away, the already-dim light faded into even deeper darkness.  Standing within the shadows was a familiar, nearly emaciated figure with a coal-black skin tone and backwards-curving horns.  Four pupiless yellow eyes gazed at her intently.  

Trying to keep her composure, Solinae hid the strange relief she felt at the sight of the devil before her.  “It’s you.  The one from my dreams.”

The devil nodded.  “Indeed, dear Solinae, it is I.”  

“I wondered if someday we would speak.  I admit, the longer I had that dream, the more curious about you I became.”

He smiled the same unreadable smile she’d seen in her dreams. “Then be happy to know I will sate your curiosity.  What do you wish to ask?”

“Well for one, a proper introduction.  We can hardly converse if I don’t know to whom exactly I am speaking.”  

“Ah yes, where are my manners?”  He cleared his throat.  “I am Zaargoth, or as most mortals know me, the Lord of Midnight.  It is an honor to finally meet you in person.”  His deep red cloak billowed as he gave a sweeping bow.

Solinae’s eyes started to widen, but she quickly hid her surprise and slight fear behind a polite smile and a curtsey.  “A pleasure.  It’s not every day one meets a Lord of Hell in person.  To what do I owe this audience, my Lord of Midnight?”

Straightening, he waved a clawed hand as if indicating for her to rise. “Please, do call me Zaargoth.  I don’t give my name to many mortals, it would be a shame to give it and not be on a first name basis.”

She stopped curtseying and relaxed her shoulders. “Yes, apologies.  My question still stands however; why have you brought me to this place?  Where exactly are we, anyway?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his chin with a claw in thought. “It’s rather difficult to explain where.  The place you see is part of the domain of darkness; an audience chamber in my corner of Hell.  That said, I did not drag you across planes.  You are technically still asleep in your bed in the mortal realm.  I suppose the simple explanation is that I am projecting everything here into your mind through your dreams.  Not a good explanation, I know, but it gets complicated when I am the one seeking to communicate with a mortal and not the other way around.”

“I see.  Well, I suppose it is reassuring knowing I wasn’t forcibly dragged into Hell in my sleep.  You have not, however, yet answered why you have appeared to me.”

“Patience, my dear, I was getting to that.  Several months ago, very shortly before I first appeared in your dreams, I had the pleasure of hearing you perform on stage in Salevia.  You would not have seen me in the audience; I have a habit of listening in from my study.  Or as I suppose mortals would think of it, the inner sanctum of my domain.  I listen to many performances across the continent, you see, ever searching for a worthy musician.  It is not a fact I reveal to many, but my true passion is composing music.”

“Truly?”  She tilted her head curiously.  She’d never considered that a devil with near-godlike power might take an interest in such a thing.  “Can I presume then that the piece which played in my dream was one of yours?  It did not sound like any composer I am familiar with.”

“Indeed it was.  I do hope you liked it.  If so, you may be intrigued by the proposition I have for you.”

“Proposition?”

“As I mentioned before, I have been searching for a musician.  I will not take just any virtuoso however, I want one who can play my compositions with the sheer emotion that I have always wished to hear out of them.  When I heard you perform that night, I knew I’d found the one I sought.  Solinae; I want you to be the one to play the music I write.  I wish nothing more than to hear your violin sing with joy and weep with deepest anguish.”  Zaargoth waved his hand and a violin was conjured out of nowhere.  It hovered over to her and stopped within arm’s reach.  He looked at her desperately.  “Please...will you play for me?”

Solinae stared at him for a moment, not taking the violin. “Are you offering me a deal?”

“Yes, I am offering you a deal.”

Solinae pondered for a moment the situation.  She’d heard stories of people who made deals with devils.  More often than not, they did not end well.  That said, something about Zaargoth intrigued her.  Everything about his impassioned tone and imploring expression pointed towards him being genuine.  

“And, if I were to accept your deal, what are the terms?”

“The only thing I ask of you is to play the music I write every so often.  Alone or on stage, it matters not, so long as I am allowed to listen.  And in return, I offer you as many favors as you wish, no strings attached.”  

As many favors as she wished?  There had to be some kind of catch.  Solinae studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, but all she found was desperation.  He looked at her like a servant groveling at a cruel master’s feet to be merciful.  Despite this, he didn’t try to pressure her into taking his deal either.  She suspected that if she wanted to, she could make him get on his knees and beg.  It had seemed odd that he’d offer a deal weighed so heavily in her favor when he first said it, but the longer she delayed replying, the more forlorn his expression became.  

She nodded to herself decisively as she wrapped her hand around the neck of the hovering violin.  She couldn’t help but give a sly smile.  After all, the possibilities were endless.  “Very well, Zaargoth, Lord of Midnight.  I accept your deal.”

Zaargoth let out a breath of obvious relief and smiled at her joyfully.  “Wonderful!  I am happy to hear it.  Now then,”  With another wave of his hand, a piano appeared beside him.  “We must seal it.”  Sitting down at the bench, he began to play.  

Solinae listened for a moment to the piece’s introduction.  She knew the piece; a duet for violin and piano that had been written to accompany an old poem.  The poem had been about spirits of the dead rising from their graves at midnight to dance a waltz until sunrise returned them to their sleep.  Putting the violin’s bow to the strings, she waited for the piano’s intro to end and for her part to begin.

As soon as she began to play, several thin, dark wisps appeared and swirled around her.  She was startled at first but quickly realized it must be part of the seal and continued to play.  The wisps grew in number with every passing note, but Solinae ignored them, losing herself in the dissonance of the melody that made her wish to dance along with the dead from the poem.  

Somewhere in the middle of the piece, Zaargoth stood up from the piano bench, but the piano continued to play.  He offered his hand.

“A dance, dear Solinae?” A request, not a demand.  

She smiled mischievously and let go of the violin, which hovered in the air and also continued to play.  “I accept.”

Stepping closer, Zaargoth put one bony hand on her waist and took her hand in the other.  Feeling the rhythm of the music, Solinae began to move her feet to the three-four time.  She had waltzed with men before, but never with one who moved with such grace.  

As they danced, the black tendrils engulfed them both and Solinae felt warmth on her left upper arm and what felt like a pen scrawling something on her skin.  She paid little attention to it however, since the pace of their dance increased as the music reached its climax to the point she could barely keep up.  Continuing the pace for the remainder of the piece, the final chord rang sharply, bringing their dance to an abrupt halt.  

They stayed where they were, breathing fairly heavily, while the last note faded into nothing and the black tendrils receded.  Once both were gone, they let go of each other and relaxed.  

“Bravo, my dear,” Zaargoth said, beaming at her. “You are truly extraordinary.”

Solinae curtsied.  “Thank you.  I must say, you too are something special.”  Solinae remembered the odd sensation on her arm during their dance and looked at it.  Her arm now bore what resembled a tattoo.  Two crescent moons facing opposite each other in a manner that vaguely resembled an unlit torch.  “Your symbol, I presume?”

“Indeed.  A necessity for making a deal I’m afraid.  I hope it does not upset you.”

“Not at all.  I rather like it, actually.  I shall wear it proudly.”

“Excellent, though it would be prudent to be careful who sees it.  My symbol is one of the lesser known devil symbols, but still recognizable by some.  Some of whom would not be kind to anyone who made a deal with a devil regardless of which one.”

“I’ll be careful.  You needn’t worry.”

“Good.  Now then, regrettably I must take my leave.  It’s been a pleasure, but if I linger here much longer I would be denying you the rest of the night’s sleep.  All you need to do is close your eyes for a few moments, and you will be safely back in your bed.”

Solinae nodded in understanding.  “Will I see you again soon?”

“Whenever you wish, just tap the symbol on your arm twice and I will come to you posthaste.”

“I will be sure to remember.”  She smiled.  “Until we meet again, Zaargoth.”

“I look forward to it, dear Solinae.”

Just as instructed, Solinae closed her eyes for a few seconds.  Her mind went foggy for a split second, but when she opened her eyes again, she was back, as promised, in her bed.  She looked at her arm and saw the symbol, sighing in relief.  It hadn’t just been a dream.  

Chapter Text

Thunder rumbled outside as Solinae lay in fitful half-sleep.  Every time she thought she was drifting off, her thoughts returned to the disturbing letter and promptly woke her again.  The word ‘why’ written repeatedly down the entire page.  The letter she received after ignoring many from the mysterious sender over the past two months.  

What was happening?  The unsigned letters kept appearing despite her request from the post office to not deliver anything lacking a return address.  The enchantments on her doors and windows meant to ward intruders were all that let her sleep at night anymore, especially after the last few.  

Horrible, grotesque messages demanding why she ignored the sender.  Why she wouldn’t let them murder her and violate her lifeless body in the worst ways imaginable.  The thought made her shudder violently.  It was like being trapped in a nightmare and yet it was real.  

A loud crash of thunder jolted her fully awake and shook her from her thoughts.  Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself it was only a storm.  Storms were always awful in Sorenia, with the city floating in the clouds.  Reaching for the glass of water sitting on her bedside table, she abruptly froze as an awful chill crawled up her spine.  Beside the glass was a single, folded piece of paper that had not been there when she’d fallen asleep.  

Hand trembling, she picked up the paper as if she were picking up a venomous scorpion.  Opening it, she immediately shrieked before crumpling it up and hurling it across the room where it hit the wall and landed noiselessly.  The note contained a single word, written a single time: ‘why’.  

Chapter Text

Solinae heard only silence, the screams of those around her drowned out by her own fear.  What was she thinking, getting involved when these…things…attacked?  She stared at the shadow creature before her as it slowly approached, not even noticing she’d retreated until her back met the wall. 

She now understood why Zaargoth insisted he give her at least some magic meant for attack: there was only so much that illusion could do when one was backed into a corner. Plucking a string of her ethereal violin, she did the best thing she could and put up a defensive ward, hoping it’d stop the shadow creature from gutting her with its claws.

As the creature drew closer, her mind raced.  Was this it?  Was this how she died?  Her train of thought broke as the creature in front of her was suddenly cleaved in two by a large sword and dissipated into nothing.  

Now standing where the shadow had been was a tall, bulky man in crimson armor, hefting his sword onto his shoulder with little effort.  

Solinae relaxed, hoping her relief wasn’t too obvious. “Thank you,” she said.  

“No trouble at all!” the armored man answered, grinning brightly.  “Don’t worry, I’ll handle the rest!”

Before Solinae could reply, he turned and charged toward the other shadows.  Solinae sighed deeply and rubbed the devil symbol on her arm, wishing more than anything now that Zaargoth was there, and wasn’t entirely sure why.  

Chapter Text

Solinae stared dumbfounded at her companions, still trying to process what they had all just heard.  She didn’t want to believe it.  A monster from a painting that stalked intruders wherever they went until they were dead by its claws?  It was the kind of story invented to frighten children, and yet the tingling on the back of her neck only grew worse as the seconds ticked by and the weird, crunching sound coming from the second floor grew increasingly loud.  

It couldn’t be could it?  Those dastards were lying, right?  All denial ceased to be when a large, amorphous shape dropped in from above through a hole that used to be part of the first floor ceiling.  What even was this thing?  At first glance, it appeared to be liquid, and yet it was not.  Like thick paint that somehow was holding its form.

How could they have been so foolish, coming here?  What possessed them to think that the killers were hiding out in a decrepit, cursed manor?  The clues, the warded book, the illusion that delivered them a message…it had all been a trap, and they fell right into it.     

Solinae could only watch wide-eyed as the formless, gray, almost-liquid glob solidified into a grotesque being she could barely comprehend.  It had four legs almost resembling a crab’s with a featureless, oblong mass vaguely resembling a human torso, and two long, stretchy limbs that might’ve been arms on a less deranged creature.  The lopsided oval that was its head split open across the center with a nauseating crackling noise, revealing a gaping maw full of jagged teeth.  It faced down at the four of them as if it were glaring, but it appeared to lack anything resembling eyes.  

The creature threw back its head and let out a shrill screech that sounded as though it could shatter the air itself.  Solinae grasped her head, the noise bouncing back and forth in her mind like a bullet repeatedly ricocheting off a magic shield.  The initial shock to her senses did not last long, but left her with terror that rended her very soul.

With her last bit of reason, she determined there was only one thing she could do: run.  

Chapter Text

Solinae closed the door to her room at the tavern gently, making certain not to draw attention.  She placed the leather-bound book she held on the nightstand and stared at it absently, unable to bring her mind to any thought other than ‘I could’ve been killed today’.    

Emotions heavy from that ordeal, Solinae buried her face in her hands and wept.  What else could she do?  It felt like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.  She wished more than anything to be back home, never having agreed to help with this investigation.  At least at home, she’d be safer.  

A few minutes passed in despair.  When her tears were spent, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and noticed a faint glow coming from her book.  She opened it to the currently marked page and read the new text that had appeared.  In Zaargoth’s elegant handwriting were the words, "Are you alright?"   

Taking the pen out of its holder on the book’s spine, she considered for a moment what to say.  Of course she wasn’t alright, but she couldn’t tell him that…could she?  Solinae paused for a moment in contemplation.  Zaargoth was her closest friend, why couldn’t she tell him?  

As if her mind was answering her question, she recalled several bitter memories suddenly that she tried to contain.  Her younger self sobbing in a corner, the scornful laughter of girls no older than her reminding her she wasn’t one of them, with the laughter only worsening the more tears she shed.  The same scene, again and again, no matter where it might have taken place.   Solinae’s heart iced over, imagining those awful harpies having their faces ground into the mud and then being locked out in the rain.  

Holding her pen tightly and tears flowing once again, she replied.  "I’m fine."

—-

Zaargoth looked up from the sheet music he was writing upon seeing the book on the edge of his desk glowing.  He wasn’t surprised Solinae had replied so soon, but was relieved nonetheless.  It had been almost ridiculous to ask if she was okay.  How could she be, after the kind of day she’d had?  That said, he wasn’t going to force the issue if she didn’t want to discuss it.  

Opening the book, he read her response.  While the words said ‘I’m fine’, Solinae’s usual neat print was absent.  In its place was the writing of one whose hand shook with distress.  He sighed solemnly, wishing there was more he could do.  Alas, if she did not want to open up, he couldn’t.  It would be wrong to pry, especially if she was this upset.  He’d be remiss if he did nothing though.  The least he could do was try and cheer her up if possible.  He wrote a reply in the book.

—-

Not even a minute had passed before Solinae’s book glowed again.  She couldn’t help but smile when she read the new message: "I think a nice cup of tea is in order."

As soon as she finished reading the sentence, a decorative teacup on a saucer materialized on the nightstand, filled with steaming amber liquid.  Solinae picked up the cup and inhaled the steam, the lovely scent of vanilla and bergamot clearing her troubled thoughts and replacing them with comfort.  She took a small sip of the tea, letting it sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.  The frost coating her heart melted at both the delightful flavor and the knowledge that Zaargoth remembered her favorite tea.  

Chapter Text

Solinae sat in the corner of the tavern, plucking the strings of her violin absently and wishing more than anything she could play.  Technically there was nothing stopping her; no tavern barkeep would prevent a musician from performing, especially when there was no other present.  That wasn’t what she wanted right now though.  An impromptu performance by a virtuoso would only draw attention, and currently she only wished for solitude.  

She longed to let loose all of her emotions with no witness.  Play her best for an audience of none, the only applause from the silent breeze outside.  She let out a resigned sigh, knowing she likely wouldn’t get the chance any time soon.  Instead, she picked up her bow and played one of the simplest nocturnes she knew.  If she didn’t play like a virtuoso, no one would suspect her of being one.

As she played, a man in a mask and thick clothing sat down at her table.  Feeling a slight pang of annoyance, Solinae continued to play as if Amadeus hadn’t just shown up.  Unfortunately, the piece had to come to a close, and once she was done, it’d be hard to avoid speaking to him any longer.

“You play nicely,” Amadeus said in his usual dry tone once the last note went silent.  

“I should hope so,” Solinae answered, venom on her tongue.  “It’s what I’m known for after all.”

Amadeus sighed and waved down the barmaid, handing her a silver coin and pushing the frothing mug placed on the table towards Solinae.  

Solinae frowned and raised an eyebrow.  “Care to tell me what this is about?  Usually when one buys a lady a drink, it’s either a shameless flirtation or there’s a good reason.”

“I promise you, it’s not the former.  I just wanted to apologize for what I said back at the manor.  I was trying to reassure you it was fine to be scared, but obviously it backfired.”

She tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.  “Indeed, it did.  As did your ‘reassurance’ about my apparent lack of combat skill, as did your tactless question about whether I am romantically involved with a friend I had first mentioned but one sentence prior.  Insinuating I was stricken with fear at the mere sight of a decrepit manor was just one more.  If I may be so bold, I might even say you’ve been a bully, Amadeus.”  She steeled herself for an argument she had no intent to lose.

“No, you’re right.  I shouldn’t have said any of those things.  My emotions might be numb, but I still recognize my words were hurtful.  I’m sorry.”

Solinae’s fury quickly simmered down, replaced with confusion. “I…” She exhaled slowly to regain her composure.  “If you’re truly sorry, then perhaps my judgment was misplaced.  Enlighten me though, what do you mean by ‘your emotions are numb’?”

He sighed again, as if he knew this was coming.  “Well, as you saw earlier today, I’m not exactly alive.  Sure, I look like a skeleton, albeit a green one, but I’m not undead as you might think.  I guess you could say I’m more like a living construct.  My mind and soul are human but my body isn’t.  I don’t eat, don’t need sleep, don't breathe…heck, I can’t even feel the air on my bones or the sensation of touch.  I can feel pain, but that’s a weird exception.”

“I see.  An unfortunate state of being, but doesn’t quite answer the question.”

“I was getting to that part.  Yeah, none of that is great, but the worst part of my…condition…is that I can’t feel emotions like I should.  They’re there, I can tell they are.  But, no matter how much I want to feel them, when I try it’s like I’m reaching for something I can’t grasp.  I know when I should feel emotions and which one I should be feeling at the time, but actually feeling them?  I just…don’t.” 

Many thoughts spun around in Solinae’s head.  It was a lot to take in, but the thought that stood out most for some reason was related to how long she’d spent bottling up her own emotions.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough to understand.

“Perhaps we’re not so different, then.  I wasn’t actually born into nobility.  Being a commoner brought up alongside nobles was...difficult.  Sure, now I look the part and my manners are better than many, but no matter what, I’m always aware that I am not one of them.  They made certain of that.”  A bitter taste formed in her mouth, many memories recalled.  “I…”  She shook her head.  No, she couldn’t be so direct.  “The details are unimportant, but music is an easy way to express.”

Amadeus nodded.  “Suppose you’re right.  Not so different after all.”  

Her expression softened slightly.  “I’m glad you see it that way.”

“For whatever it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t let pride get in the way of fleeing immediately from the monster in the manor.  Honestly, I was relieved when you did; that meant one less person might’ve been hurt by it.”

She opened her mouth to object, but then stopped and considered his words.  As much as she loathed to possibly look like a coward, there was no telling what might’ve happened had she stayed.  She only found out after the fact that Amadeus had died so the rest of them could escape.  It was only because of Zaargoth collecting a favor from another devil that Amadeus returned from death.  It would’ve been odd for an emotionless person to perform such a selfless act, but it was clear to her that Amadeus had more emotion than he thought.  

She nodded, satisfied by this conclusion.  “I suppose then I’ve misjudged you, Amadeus.  I accept your apology.”  As if to seal her words, she took a sip of the drink in front of her, promptly making a sour expression as the vile liquid touched her tongue.

Amadeus chuckled. “Not quite the quality you’re used to, I take it?”

“No, I’ve just never been fond of ale.  But, it would’ve been uncouth not to at least try it.”

“Eh, it’s fine.  How about some nice tea leaves later, instead?”

Despite the lingering ale taste, she smiled.  “Now that is something I can definitely agree to.”

“Well alright then, I’ll see what I can do.  Anyway, we should go find Ictus and Lissia.  I reckon we both have some explaining to do.  Not often you find out you’re traveling with a talking skeleton and a woman who’s friends with a Lord of Hell.”

“Indeed.  At this point, the sooner we explain, the better.”

Chapter Text

Lucian stepped into his study and shut the door firmly, letting out a sharp exhale.  Idiot gatekeepers.  How many times did he have to tell them they couldn’t leave until someone else showed up to replace them?  One more time and one more escaped soul, apparently.  

Shaking his head, Lucian let go of his irritation.  No use dwelling on it since it was out of his hands for the time being.  Ah well.  The escaped soul would find its way back to the pits sooner or later; the Inquisitor would make damn sure of that.  He had better things to do than worry about that shit anyway.  He had quite the story to tell Raiza tonight and wasn’t about to wait.

He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a deck of playing cards with an intricate skull design on the back.  Shuffling the deck a few times out of habit, he drew the card on top and smirked.  The queen of hearts.  Fitting.  

The card floated out of his hand, stopped a few yards away, and expanded until it was roughly the size of a doorway.  The card vanished and returned to his deck, leaving behind a solid, oaken door suspended in midair.  Lucian went up to the door and knocked three times.  After a quick moment of waiting, the lock on the doorknob clicked open and he let himself in.  

To mortals, the space beyond the door might have been a familiar sight.  A cozy living room with a sofa in front of a fireplace, walls lined with bookshelves and the occasional painting.  Familiar, up until they realized every single item in that room was worth more than many could make in a year.

Lucian paid no mind to the finery though, as the true finest was sitting on the sofa with a martini glass in her hand and an open book upon her lap.  As he approached, she looked up and gave him the smile he loved.  The mischievous one promising either a romantic evening or a bullet through the chest, depending on who was asking.  Knowing where he stood on that, he smiled back.  

“Evening, Raiza,” Lucian said as he approached the velvety sofa and took a seat beside her.  He leaned in and kissed her gently on the corner of the mouth.  

Raiza closed her book and abandoned it on the coffee table.  She set her glass down and waved her hand, causing a full glass of gin to appear beside it along with a box of expensive cigarettes.   

“Unless you consider half past four to be evening, I am not certain it is,” Raiza said with a chuckle.  “Really though, I’m a little surprised to see you here so soon.”

Lucian picked up the drink on the table and took a sip of the clear, mildly-bitter liquid.  “Maybe I just wanted to see my lovely wife sooner.  Is that so wrong?”  

“Not in the least, though we both know how much you love laying it on thick.”  Despite her words, she gave an amused smirk.

“Damn, saw right through me.  Well I guess if you insist, I’ll tell it to you straight.  Had an unexpected visitor today, and you’ll never guess who.”  

“Lord von Nobleson, second advisor to the royal scribe?”

“Close, but no cigar.  It was Zaargoth, actually.”  He set his drink down and took a cigarette out of the box.  He snapped his fingers, and a tiny flame appeared on the tip of his claw that extinguished as soon as the cigarette was lit. 

Raiza gave a quizzical look.  “The Lord of Midnight?  You’re right, I really wouldn’t have guessed.  What could’ve brought him knocking at your door?”

“I owed him a favor and he came to collect.  Truth be told, I’d all but forgotten about it and thought he was pulling a fast one on me until he reminded me of why.  I’ll give the man one thing: he’s a patient son of a bitch.  He’d been sitting on that one for decades.”  Lucian took a drag on the cigarette.  “Ain’t important why I owed him, but his request was…unusual, to say the least.”

Raiza laced her fingers together and regarded him attentively.  “Well, don’t leave me in suspense.  Do tell.”

He smiled and lazily put an arm around her shoulders.  “He needed to have some fellow resurrected.  A nobody, as far as I could tell, but Zaargoth insisted I do it.”

She scooted in closer and leaned against him.  “Odd indeed.  Did he say why?”

“I believe he said, ‘that man’s currently useful to my friend Solinae von Ludwig.’  Didn’t say much else.”

“Intriguing.  I’d heard of a famous violinist with that name who wore the symbol of the Lord of Midnight on her arm.  I suspected she was a mere worshiper, but it sounds as though it’s more personal than that.  Much more.”  Raiza smiled as if she knew a dirty secret she wasn’t going to share.

“You think?”

Raiza chuckled. “Oh come now, Lucian.  Another Lord of Hell owed Zaargoth a favor, and he used it to revive a seemingly unimportant mortal, merely because that mortal is currently useful to a friend?  It sounds to me like his ‘friend’ has him wrapped around her little finger, whether he realizes it or not.”  She drew tiny circles with her clawed fingertip on the side of his arm, as though emphasizing the last point.

Lucian paused to consider it for a moment.  Made a lot of sense, actually.  Even if this woman was Zaargoth’s favorite mortal, it seemed unlikely he would’ve collected on a favor from another Lord unless that mortal meant a lot to him.  Either that, or they were just sleeping with each other.  Whichever it was though, Raiza was right.

“Y’know, you have a point there.  I’ll look into it later.  I definitely haven’t seen the last of him, so that’d be some useful dirt to know.  After all, the mortal I revived was real damn quick to take the deal I offered him, and Zaargoth won’t be happy to learn that for a lot of reasons.”

Raiza’s face lit up with devious joy.  “You made a deal with the mortal, huh?  This is getting juicier by the second.”  She shifted in her seat to face him.  “Please, tell me more.”

Lucian chuckled and brushed a strand of hair behind Raiza’s ear.  “Well of course.  I know how much you love the details.  So then, the fellow’s name is Amadeus Barbarossa.  Some kind of freelance investigator, apparently.  Poor wretch touched a dangerous artifact and it changed him into a jade skeleton.”

She turned up her nose as if she’d just smelled something unpleasant.  “Oh, how tacky.  Poor wretch indeed.”

“That’s not even the worst of it.  Seems like it dulled his emotions too.  Lucky for me though, that apparently made him desperate.  I expected this guy to be too cautious to even consider the deal I offered him, but sure enough, he took it.  No questions, no bullshit.  I admit, this deal was just for fun and I don’t plan on punishing him if he loses, but damn, it was too easy.”

“Desperate or stupid; it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“Could be both.  I asked Amadeus to consider acquiring a tome for me in exchange for information on how to reverse his weird condition.  I only asked him to consider it, mind you, not actually acquire it.  He didn’t catch on though and seemed to think I wanted the tome delivered to me.  Even more, the fool didn’t ask what the tome contained or where to find it.  Not even a bloody title.”

“So let me get this straight.  The mortal you revived took a devil deal without even asking what the deal entailed?”

“Yup.”

Raiza laughed brightly.  “Oh, that’s absolutely rich!  This is going to be a fun one to watch.  Tell me, what manner of dark, forbidden secrets are you sending him after?”

“I had a few magic tomes in mind when I offered the deal, but didn’t get the chance to decide which one before he agreed to it.”  He shrugged.  “I’ll think about it for a few days.  I say, we watch and wait til then.  Even if Amadeus is a fool, he’s an interesting fool who’s hanging around some interesting people.  Been too long since we’ve had a good show, and this one’s shaping up to be entertaining, to say the least.”

“Definitely.  I look forward to seeing the plot unfold.  For now though…” Raiza brushed her fingertips against Lucian’s face and eyed him seductively.  “There’s nowhere to be, the fire is cozy, and I have my husband all to myself.  Why should I wait for fun when I can have it now?”

Lucian shuddered at her delicate touch.  He put out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray, and drew her in for a kiss.  “Whatever you want, I have till dawn.” 

Raiza’s impish smile was enough to set him aflame.  She wanted fun?  He'd give her exhilaration.  

Chapter Text

It was midafternoon when Zaargoth stepped up to the front door of the manor, right on time for his meeting.  Like most of the noble district of Osrith, it was an imposing building crafted from white stone surrounded by a wall of hedges that grew taller than the average mortal.  Admittedly, he rather liked the appearance of the place.  Extravagant, yet tasteful at the same time.  He’d come to expect the former from mortal nobility, but not so much the latter in many cases.  As much as he would’ve liked to spend more time admiring the architecture, unfortunately that was not why he was there.

Zaargoth paused a moment before touching the glowing doorbell rune, ensuring he left his air of power and authority back in his study.  He wore one of his less-fine suits for this occasion; certainly fine enough for a lesser nobleman, but not enough to give the impression he was anyone important.  If all went according to plan, he would not be suspected of being any devil of consequence, and, more importantly, he would get a better feel for what kind of man this Duamana fellow was.  If Solinae was to be working with him, Zaargoth had to make sure the man was safe…and guarantee his cooperation if he wasn’t.  Without any further delay, he touched the rune with his claw to notify his arrival.  

No more than a minute later, a butler in an immaculate suit and expertly trimmed mustache answered the door.  “Ah, you must be Master Zaargoth,” the butler said. “Please, follow me.  My lord is expecting you in the library.”

“Thank you, sir,”  Zaargoth answered with a polite nod, stepping through the doorway.

The entrance hall was a magnificent room of marble and mahogany that complimented the multitude of paintings and statues beautifully.  Zaargoth couldn’t help noticing that none of the artwork portrayed people.  All the paintings depicted lush landscapes and forests, and the statues were all of noble beasts.  Unfortunate that he was there for business and would lack the time to examine them further.  

After passing by a few doors, the butler stopped and knocked on one. “Sir?  Your meeting has arrived,” the butler said.  

Zaargoth heard a bit of shuffling on the other side of the door before a brief pause.  “Thank you, Jasper.  Do show him in,” a voice said.

The butler opened the door and Zaargoth strode inside.  The library was just as imposing as the rest of the manor.  Shelves upon shelves of tightly-packed books lined the walls.  A large, intricately-carved wooden table with papers strewn across it sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by several cushiony chairs.  Standing near one of the chairs close to the door was a figure who Zaargoth took to be Duamana.  The butler bowed and closed the door behind him.  Once the butler was gone, Zaargoth looked at Duamana more carefully.  

He was a taller gentleman, broad at the shoulders and built like a man who cared about his physique.  He was dark in complexion with short black hair that was slicked back behind his neck.  His well-trimmed goatee gave him the appearance of evil viziers Zaargoth had sometimes seen depicted in books, an image not improved by the air of condescension that the man practically reeked.  Gold-rimmed spectacles matched the gold trim of his silken black shirt and pants; an obvious show of wealth that would be noticed, but was otherwise unremarkable.  Overall, Zaargoth was entirely unimpressed.  

“Zaargoth, I presume?  It is excellent to meet you, sir,”  Duamana said, approaching with hand outstretched for a handshake.  

Zaargoth smiled and shook his hand firmly, taking note of how readily Duamana offered a handshake.  Mortals rarely initiated the gesture when interacting with him, and when he offered one, it was normally met with reluctance.  He knew Duamana was secretly a dragon and not just any mortal, but still it was unusual.  Either this man’s manners were impeccable or he had no fear of devils.  

Making a mental note to figure out which one it was, Zaargoth answered, “A pleasure, sir.  Always good to meet an acquaintance of Solinae’s.”  He lowered his hand to his side and stepped back a pace.  “Allow me to properly introduce myself.  I am Zaargoth, humble servant of Solinae von Ludwig.”  He bowed courteously, straightening his posture after no longer than was necessary.  

Duamana gave a small bow in return.  “Baron Duamana, loyal servant to the city of Osrith.”  He gestured towards one of the chairs.  “Please, take a seat.  It sounded from your letter like we have quite a few things to discuss.”  

Zaargoth sat in the chair gestured at, bringing his bony tail to his side so as to not scratch the floor’s woodwork with the pointed spike on the end of it.  “Indeed,” Zaargoth said. “Where would you like to begin?  I presume we are not pressed for time, so any of the topics will do.”

Duamana sat down in a chair across the table and steepled his fingers.  “Let’s start with the easiest topic; the cursed painting both you and Solinae talked about.  Unfortunately, there was very little research that could be done on the topic.” Duamana picked up a page containing a few lines of scratched-out text that Zaargoth guessed were his notes. “Not surprisingly, there has been precious little written about ‘cursing your enemies with a painting’, no matter how I attempted to phrase that in my search.”  Duamana sighed and discarded the paper to the side of the table.  “Not in the public section of Osrith’s library, anyway.”

Zaargoth frowned, though he expected as much.  “A pity, but unsurprising.  I would imagine literature on the nature of curses to be scarce indeed, given what mortals could do with such knowledge were it made public.  Was there anything at all?  No matter how inconsequential?”

“There were a few materials on using unusual objects as the focuses of spellcasting, but all of it was entirely unhelpful for this endeavor.”  He waved a hand dismissively.  “Make no mistake however; as disappointing as these results were, it was about what I expected this early into investigation.  I have a few plans in place that may pay out, but I fear that time will be a limiting factor.”

If nothing else, Duamana seemed to be taking this matter seriously.  Zaargoth had expected him to put it off until a much later date, but no, he had already done some research and further unspecified planning.  Interesting.   

“I see,”  Zaargoth said.  “Would you elaborate further?  It would be helpful to know what you have in mind to ensure our respective plans aren’t redundant.”

Duamana tapped his fingers on the table as if mulling over how to phrase his response.  “While there’s nothing in the public area of Osrith’s vast library about our subject, it would be quite interesting to see if there’s anything about it in the restricted section, no?  Of course, a direct appeal for access takes a while to make it through the High Council.  I hear it helps to have a friend on the Council, though it also takes time to make such a friend.  And of course, as a true leader of business, I would not deign to use methods that might skirt the law.  Especially not before seeing if other avenues might bear fruit.”

Zaargoth considered this for a moment.  Making ‘friends’ in high places was a simple tactic, but effective.  While good to know Duamana was willing to use such schemes, he was right about it taking time.  Time that Solinae may or may not have.  It couldn’t hurt to go along with this scheme, but it couldn’t be relied upon either.  Zaargoth caught his meaning about ‘skirting the law’, however.  If a reputedly respectable businessman such as Duamana was willing to go to such lengths to keep Solinae and her companions safe from the cursed painting, there had to be more to this.

“Quite interesting, indeed,” Zaargoth said after a brief pause. “I wish you luck and expediency.  I would hate to see your efforts go to waste, especially if the restricted section contains the knowledge I seek.  Do let me know what you find.  It would be beneficial to us both were you to succeed.  Of course, if I find anything of value in my own search, I will be sure to pass it along.”  And if Duamana didn’t succeed, he’d better prove useful otherwise, Zaargoth mentally added.

“Most excellent then.  I look forward to seeing what information this collaboration might turn up.  I must say though, the topic has me rather intrigued.  Placing one's heart and soul – perhaps literally – into a painting, such that it creates a monster from their worst emotions?  Maybe if he hadn't been so bent on revenge, this mystery painter of ours could have been quite the odd-yet-effective mage.  Alas, yet another mind wasted on the pitiable pursuit of revenge."  He sighed briefly.  “But, come!  I am sure you had more to discuss than our mad painter and his work, yes?”

“Indeed.  As fascinating as the subject may be, I’m afraid my interest in the matter is limited to my ultimate goal of getting rid of the painting’s curse.  Any information that doesn’t lead to results is worthless to me.”  He gestured dismissively.  “But yes, there is more I wished to discuss.” 

Zaargoth paused for a moment to consider his wording.  It would be unwise to let on just how much he knew.  In truth, Solinae had reported everything about the conversation she had with Duamana and their agreement to work together.  As far as Duamana was aware however, Solinae had only made the briefest mention of it.  Perhaps now was a good time to find out just how much Duamana was willing to say…or if he gave a different account of the agreement entirely.  

Zaargoth cleared his throat and began.  “Solinae has made me aware of the fact that you are to be working together in the near future outside of the cursed painting issue.  Given what I know of her own mission from the wizards, I hope you can understand that I have questions regarding whatever arrangement you have made.”  

Duamana looked him over for a moment as if searching for something.  “Well, if you know of her mission, then you know of our common problem.  Namely, the pair of rogue mages who call themselves the ‘Tombstone Twins’.  It appears as though they have quite the nefarious plot in mind, and we have decided it would be mutually beneficial to aid each other’s efforts in thwarting them.  I provide Solinae and her companions aid and information on our adversaries where I can, they provide the results.  That said, I expect their end of the deal to take quite some time.  It’s rather clear that their little band is not very…experienced, in these matters.  I’m certainly willing though to give them the time they need to grow into the role required to take on these villains.”  He shrugged. “Or they all die in some monster’s gut and we both find new pawns to deal with our problems.  Adventurers and Hunters are easily replaceable, after all.”

It took every bit of willpower Zaargoth had to maintain his composure and betray no emotion on his face.  As waves of fury washed over him, the temptation to throttle Duamana right there was almost irresistible.  Unfortunately, crushing his windpipe now would only cause problems later.   As appropriate as a verbal show of anger might have been as well, he did not want to risk ending the meeting prematurely and lose his chance to gain as much information about this man as possible.  

For now, he would stay his hand, but Duamana had said all he needed to hear.  As soon as Solinae no longer had use for Duamana, he would be swiftly brought to ruin.  No matter how powerful or important he was, no one made a pawn out of Solinae.  As enticing as it was to begin plotting his downfall immediately, now was not the time.  He would play along for as long as was needed, but after that?  Zaargoth smiled wickedly inside; he would need a new pawn, indeed.  Duamana was easily replaceable.  

Keeping his outward expression neutral, Zaargoth answered, “Yes, some growth time would be good for all of them.  It would be most unfortunate were they to fail.”  Not that he would allow Solinae to fall, he added internally.  

Duamana eyed him carefully for a moment before nodding and smiling politely.  “Yes, well, hopefully it is not terribly long.  The longer it takes, the longer our enemies have to progress their plans.  I would much rather those villains be defeated sooner rather than later.”  He folded his arms and added with bitterness, “Nothing good comes from fools who play with death and souls.”  He perked back up as if realizing his tone had changed, and said with a chuckle, “Not that I need to remind you of that fact though.  I’m sure a devil such as yourself would be very well acquainted with fools like those.”

Zaargoth noted the bitterness in his voice.  Could this be a more personal matter than he initially thought?  If so, it would be very useful to find that out, though perhaps not during this discussion.  “Yes, there are many fools out there, but I fear I am not at liberty to discuss Hellish business.  I’m sure as a businessman yourself, you can understand.”  

Duamana raised an eyebrow in surprise.  “Ah, forgive me if I’ve overstepped my bounds then.  You’re right that it wouldn’t be appropriate to discuss business secrets so openly.  But, it’s no matter.  Was there anything else you wished to discuss on this subject?  I don’t believe I overlooked anything, but I’ll be glad to elaborate if I have.”

Knowing full well there were many details omitted and much was left vague, Zaargoth replied, “For now, that will suffice.  If there is anything you think of later though, or find any useful information, do contact me."  He scratched his chin for a moment, pondering what was the best way for Duamana to reach him other than through Solinae.  Coming to a decision, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved a pen, which he placed on Duamana’s desk.  “Messages you write with this pen will come to me directly.  It works like one of those message scrolls wizards often use.  Please, take it.  I usually have a few of them on me.  I’m always breaking the tips by mistake, you know?  Sadly, writing with claws isn’t always convenient.”  It wasn’t the most subtle approach, but it wouldn't be unheard of for a lesser nobleman to have several such pens.  More importantly though, if messages went directly to him, he could send copies of everything Duamana wrote to Solinae quicker.  

Duamana eyed the pen curiously for a moment before sliding it closer to him.  “Thank you.  Certainly sounds easier than keeping in contact with mundane letters, though I feel this is more for my convenience than your own.  I’ll be certain to let you know if I come across anything helpful to us both.”  He rose from his chair and offered another handshake. “Well, it has been quite interesting to meet you, sir.  Aside from those few in my employ, I’ve had very little opportunity to meet with devils, and you’ve been a most pleasant guest.  If your schedule permits it, I’m of the mind to invite you back for a social call, if you would be inclined.” 

He wondered for a moment if he knew any of the devils in Duamana’s employ.  Most likely they were harmless, unnoteworthy underlings who defected, but it wouldn’t hurt to check if he got the chance.  Zaargoth stood and shook his hand.  “It’s been a pleasure, sir.  I may take you up on that offer.  For now though, I have business to attend to.  I look forward to speaking with you again."  He lowered his hand and exited the library.

As he left the manor, Zaargoth reflected on the conversation.  Duamana was certainly a smart fellow and was definitely hiding things.  Untrustworthy as he was, Zaargoth almost liked the bastard, as much as he loathed to admit it.  A shame he needed to be brought to ruin, he could have been a useful ally.  Alas, he made the fatal mistake of viewing Solinae as expendable.  As useful as Duamana might have been, that would not be overlooked and would not go unpunished.  Vanishing into an invisible portal once he was far enough away from the manor, Zaargoth decided his next moves.  First, contact Solinae immediately and tell her everything that transpired.  Second, try to dig up as much information as he could about Duamana.  If Duamana truly was a threat, Solinae needed to know.  

Chapter Text

Solinae grinned ear to ear as she watched the scene before her.  Dozens of hatchling wyverns in every color scurrying about the ranch’s yard with energy that only baby animals tended to have.  It was almost surreal.  She’d dreamed of having a wyvern for so long and finally she was getting one.  Her heart fluttered with excitement, wondering which of the many hatchlings would be hers.  

Was it the one having a shoving match with another?  The one sitting in the shade with wings outstretched?  Perhaps even the one making an attempt to climb over the fence before falling on its tail and yelping in surprise.  So overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices, she almost didn’t notice the tug on the hem of her dress.

“Huh?”  She looked down at her feet, half expecting to find someone trying to get her attention, but that wasn’t quite it.  Sitting down beside her was an orange wyvern hatchling with dark blue stripes and already-growing teeth, chewing on the bottom of her dress.  A Razorfang, if she was not mistaken.  Solinae beamed at the hatchling, almost squealing in delight.  

“Oh, hello there!” Solinae exclaimed. “Aren’t you just the cutest!”

The Razorfang let out a startled noise, abruptly halting his chewing like he knew he’d been caught.  The dress fell limply out of his teeth as he looked up at Solinae and blinked.  Solinae’s grin only brightened.  She reached down and scratched the hatchling behind the ears.  The content rumbling sound coming from the wyvern was all she needed to hear.  

“I want to be your new friend, would you like that?”  The wyvern cooed happily and opened his mouth as though to smile.  “Oh, I’m so glad!  Let’s see, what shall I call you…”  She tapped her chin for a moment, going through the list of potential names she’d come up with ages ago.  She nodded to herself, settling on one.  “I think I’ll call you…Felix.”  

Chapter Text

Lucian’s mouth bent into a smirk as he watched the scene before him from behind a shroud of invisibility.  When Raiza told him the party had adopted four wyvern hatchlings, it was nice to hear.  When she told him they were bringing one of the ranch hands along on their adventure, it made his day.  He couldn’t help it; he had to come personally to see what kind of nonsense would ensue when they told their new pal Eagle what exactly he’d signed up for.  Lucian was not disappointed.  

“Well the first thing you have to be okay with is this foolery,” Solinae explained as she gestured incredulously at Ictus and Amadeus.  

“Yup,” Amadeus replied, straightening his clothing as if Ictus hadn’t just manhandled him. “As you just saw, I’m a green skeleton.”

“That’s not-”  Solinae let out a defeated sigh.  “Never mind.”

Eagle opened his mouth like he was about to ask a question and shut it again. “I uh…huh,” he said, clearly having no other response.

“That’s not even the half of it, honestly,” Amadeus continued. “I also died once and got resurrected by the Ace of Skulls.”  

Eagle’s eyes widened in shock. “Well that’s not something you hear every day.  Resurrected by a devil…yeah, I’ll admit, wasn't expecting that one.”  

“Neither was I, but here we are.”  Amadeus shrugged.

“Yeah, not the greatest situation.  You have to admit though, ‘Ace of Skulls’ is a really cool title,” Ictus said with a dopey grin plastered on his face.

Lucian smiled wickedly; he couldn’t have asked for a better lead-in.  “Oh, I agree,” he declared, voice dripping with purposeful arrogance as he dropped his invisibility spell.  The party all turned around sharply with varying states of surprise on their faces as they looked at him.  “Sorry, bad timing?  Would’ve said something earlier, but didn’t want to interrupt, y’know?”  Lucian pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his suit jacket and held it out between his fingers.  “Cigarette?”

“Uh, no?” Ictus answered with a baffled expression.

Lucian shrugged noncommittally and lit the cigarette with a tiny flame on the tip of his claw.  

Solinae scowled at him as the wyvern hatchling at her feet bristled and let out a guttural growl that might’ve been intimidating had it not been adorable.  “The Ace of Skulls, I presume?” Solinae demanded in the tone of one who was used to wielding a sharp tongue.

“Well of course.  Who else would I be?”

“Some other sleazy scoundrel whose presence was unasked for, perhaps?”  She folded her arms as though the answer was obvious.

Lucian chuckled. “So feisty; no wonder the Lord of Midnight likes you.”  He paused a brief moment to appreciate Solinae’s flustered expression before continuing. “But anyway, enough of that malarkey.  I ain’t here to swap insults.”

“So what are you doing here?” Amadeus asked with as much emotion as a lamppost.  

As tempting as it was to be honest and say he was there to make explaining things to Eagle as awkward as possible, Lucian knew there was more fun to be had.  He smiled and replied, “I just wanted to check up on you.  Y’know, make sure you didn’t kick the bucket again since our last meeting.  Resurrection ain’t easy, so I’m glad to see you’re still with it.”  

“Yes, we’re all still alive,” Solinae said, clearly fed up with him already. “Care to tell us why you’re really here?”

Sharp of tongue and of wit; excellent.  “Well damn, I guess I have to tell you if you’re calling me out like that.  Alright, I came to discuss business with your buddy Amadeus here.  But…” He gave each of them a quick once-over as he took a drag on his cigarette.  “I can tell by looking at you all that you ain’t quite ready for what I have in mind yet.”  Really, he hadn’t settled on an exact plan yet, but they couldn’t accuse him of lying when they were ready for none of the options he’d considered.  

“And what, praytell, did you have in mind?”

“No no; not yet.  I don’t want you bunch going off and doing anything until I know you can handle it.  That said…” He eyed each of them again. “Yes, I think I’ll be able to work with this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lissia asked with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”  Lucian gave them a coy, knowing smile before shifting to a less mischievous tone. “Anyway, I think I’ve stuck around long enough.  Don’t worry; I’ll be in touch.”  He turned his back to the party and gave a nonchalant wave, eager at this point to return home and hear Raiza’s reactions.  “Good luck, have fun, don’t die.”  Before anyone could remark on his casual tone, he walked off and vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Chapter Text

Zaargoth paced back and forth across his study, deep in contemplation.  It was maddening.  No one, not even his most trusted informants, could give him any useful intel about whoever was stalking Solinae.  Unfortunately, that left him at a dead end until someone made a discovery or the stalker made another appearance.  And if the latter happened…he cursed silently, wishing more than anything he could simply join Solinae on her journey so she wouldn't have to fear.  Sadly that wasn't an option.  

A knock on his door broke his concentration.  Who in blazes could that be at this hour?  Zaargoth strode towards the door, shoving his worry to the back of his mind and regaining a poised composure.  He looked through the peephole and groaned internally.  Of all the people who could have shown up at his door, there were few that he wanted to see less.  Still, he opened the door.  

"Evening," the visitor said, drawing out the word more than needed.

"Ah, Lucian," Zaargoth said, not even bothering to mask his displeasure. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Oh, you know.  Just thought I'd pay a visit to a friend.  Terrorizing souls gets old sometimes, y'know?"  Lucian chuckled as Zaargoth frowned.  "But, if you don't want any visitors, I guess I can just turn around and not tell you some juicy information that might pique your interest."  Lucian turned around casually and started to walk away. 

"Wait."  

Lucian stopped. "Oh?  Change your mind?"

"What kind of information?"

"The informative kind."  Lucian smiled mischievously.  "Listen, I'll either tell you or I won't.  Which one is it?"

Zaargoth paused for a moment to consider his answer.  Lucian was a cunning bastard; he wouldn't be offering information without strings attached.  That said, what if the information could lead to Solinae's stalker?  Just how much did Lucian know?  Reading Lucian's face gave no answers, but nor did he seem to be lying about having knowledge that would be beneficial to have.  Risky as it was, if Lucian's information could lead to helping Solinae then it was worth it.

"Very well then.  Tell me."  Hopefully, he wouldn't regret his decision.  

Lucian turned back around and smirked.  "Thought you might say that.  I'll keep it straightforward then so you don't get the impression I'm a dishonest man."

Too late for that.  "Go on."

"So I'm aware of your recent interest in some folks who were hiding out in a cursed manor.  While I didn't hear this first-hand, one of my subordinates said that there was a message written on the outside of the manor after your dear friend Solinae and her pals left."

Zaargoth didn't like where this was going.  "What did it say?"

"Apparently it read, 'So it's okay if a monster kills you?', in scratchy writing.  Dunno who wrote it, but it was there less than a day after your friends left the manor.  Weird, huh?"

Zaargoth froze.  Trying not to display emotion, he asked, "Are you certain this information is factual?" 

"Like I said, I didn't see it for myself, but the one who made me aware of it is usually good about getting his facts straight."

Zaargoth studied Lucian's smug face.  How did Lucian know he would want to have this knowledge?  Unless he knew about Solinae's stalker already…the thought sent an uneasy tingling down Zaargoth's spine.  If Lucian knew about it, Solinae could be in even graver danger than he thought.  "Was there anything else?"

"Nope, that's it."

Zaargoth nodded, making a mental note to look into this as soon as possible. "Very well.  If that is all, then I thank you for the information."

"Don't mention it."  Lucian's mouth bent into a fiendish grin.  "Consider it a thank you."  

Before Zaargoth could ask what he meant, Lucian vanished without a trace.  He closed the door to his study and hastily made his way to the enchanted book lying on his desk.  Solinae had to know about this immediately.  

—

Lucian sat down on the sofa and lit a cigarette, contemplating his encounter with Zaargoth.  There was no mistaking it; there was fear in Zaargoth's eyes when he heard what the weird message said.  He wasn't sure what kind of reaction Zaargoth would have, but it definitely wasn't that.  There was more going on here, and Lucian was going to find out what.  

Chapter Text

Solinae stared at her feet as the last of her companions filed out of the room and closed the door, leaving her and Zaargoth alone in the dimly-lit inn room.  Zaargoth hadn’t come in person, opting to appear as two pairs of glowing yellow eyes against an opaque shadow on the wall.  All the same, Solinae could tell he watched her with concern.  

Her mind raced with everything Zaargoth had reported.  Their new dragon ally seeing them as pawns and having ulterior motives was expected.  But nothing could have prepared her for the second piece of news.  How?  How had her stalker found her after she left home?  How did they know what had happened in the manor?  Would she ever escape?  

She sighed deeply and met Zaargoth’s worried eyes.  “I just don’t understand…why is all of this happening?  How did things end up like this?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that,” Zaargoth replied sympathetically. “If I did, I would have already dealt with it.”

“I know, I just…”  She trailed off, not sure how to finish her sentence. “I know you’re doing all you can to help already.  I appreciate it, truly.”

His gaze softened. “Of course, my dear.  You know there’s little I wouldn’t do to see you smile again.”

Solinae’s cheeks warmed as she gave a half-smile.  

Zaargoth chuckled. “Almost there.  Clearly I must redouble my efforts if I am to get my wish.”  His eyes brightened in a smile that Solinae knew was present even if it wasn’t visible.  “All levity aside though, I promise it will be okay.  Trust in me and trust in your companions; you will make it through this safe.”

“I do trust in you.  I guess I’m just…feeling in over my head.”  It almost felt like a lie.  That didn’t even begin to describe how overwhelmed she was.  

“A very reasonable response, I’d say, given all that’s happened.  There’s no shame in feeling how you do.”

Solinae frowned, knowing he was right and yet feeling ashamed nonetheless.  She clenched her fists and looked down at her feet, trying very hard not to cry in frustration.  

Zaargoth sighed. “My dear, it’s one thing to put on a brave face for a party full of backstabbing nobles.  It’s quite another to face someone who’s made it clear they wish to do so literally.  The fact that you’re still going despite it all shows your bravery.  I, for one, choose to believe in that bravery.”

She paused for a moment to consider his words.  It was true, she hadn’t completely shut down or resigned herself to her fate.  She was doing something about it, even if that meant running all over creation until Zaargoth could identify her stalker and destroy them.  She smiled slightly.  When he put it that way, perhaps fleeing from a lunatic was an act of courage after all.

“I suppose I have to believe in myself then,” Solinae said. “I would hate for your confidence to be misplaced.”

“Excellent.  I have faith that it won’t be.  For now however, I believe you have an owlbear hunt to attend to and dinner still to eat.  You shouldn’t go hunting monsters on an empty stomach, after all.”

“Indeed.  I promise I’ll eat before we leave.”

“Good.  Do take care, alright?”

“I will, I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Zaargoth nodded and vanished without a trace.  

Chapter Text

Felix lumbered into the tent and lay down in the corner, eyeing the people outside cautiously.  The other wyverns were sleeping outside, but Felix stubbornly refused.  Solinae would be sleeping in the tent, so why wouldn't he?  What if he needed to bite someone who came in the tent?  His mind was made up; he was staying no matter what.     

Solinae let out a resigned sigh and entered the tent, followed by Ictus while the others remained outside.  "I suppose you can sleep in there if you must," she said. "Promise you'll be a good boy and not hurt anyone, alright?"

Felix eyed her for a moment, unsure how to react, but soon chuffed in reluctant agreement.

Solinae gave Felix an affectionate pat on his snout. "Excellent.  I suppose it'll be harder now to fit us all in here though.  Not like I'll be getting much sleep regardless.  I can't imagine how anyone can sleep on the ground."

"Ah, but that's half the fun of camping!"  Ictus said with a cheery grin. 

Solinae frowned and folded her arms.  "I fail to see how sleeping poorly and waking up sore could possibly be fun."

"You get used to it!  But, if you're not sure, why don't you try sleeping on your wyvern?  They seem to like it."

"Truly?"  

Felix grunted.  He couldn't deny it; the warmth was nice.  

"Well, I suppose if you insist."  

Solinae dropped her bag on the ground and lay down, nestling herself at the base of Felix's long neck.  Felix chuffed and curled his tail protectively around her.  

Solinae let out a tired yawn.  "I guess…I guess I can try and sleep," she said.  Within minutes, her breathing deepened as she fell fast asleep.

Felix watched his tired friend for a few minutes, glad to see she was getting rest.  He shifted his wing to shield Solinae from the chilly air.  No one would disturb her sleep.  No one.  

Chapter Text

Solinae cursed under her breath, half-wishing she had stayed in the tent with the wyvern hatchlings.  A magical owlbear was bad enough, but now she was confronted with grotesque, snarling beasts with the bodies of eels and the legs of wolfhounds.  She thought she'd done a respectable job at reminding herself she lived the life of an adventurer now.  Apparently not.    

Ictus stepped in front of her and the others, falchion drawn and poised for attack with confidence that would've been infectious had Solinae not been so fearful. 

"Fascinating beasties aren'tcha?  Come and get a piece of this!"  Ictus shouted, brandishing his weapon at the nearest foe.  

Solinae watched as her friends all took up fighting stances at Ictus' rallying cry.  What could she do?  She had very little combat magic and what she did have would barely leave a mark.  Unless…the thought came to her as Ictus swung his blade into the nearest beast and Lissia lulled two more to sleep with a spell from afar.  It was a wild idea, but if it worked…she placed the bow of her ethereal violin on the strings and played several quick, subtle notes. 

The tones weaved into an invisible spell that she cast off into the trees.  From out of the forest came the illusory sound of a massive predator roaring and stomping through the underbrush, ready to tear into the flesh of its prey.  The three remaining creatures halted their advance and let out terrified yelps, scampering off in the opposite direction until their cries faded into the distance.  Solinae stared with mouth agape, almost unable to believe what she witnessed.  

Ictus barked a hearty laugh.  "Right clever, that was!  Good on ya mate!"  

As realization set in, Solinae's mouth curled into a smile.  "I really did it, didn't I?"

"Damn straight you did!  We're not seeing those fellas ever again!"

Solinae grinned, finally having the courage she needed.  Next time combat found them, she would do even better.