After the debacle at the orphanage, Riven’s dearest wish had been to go out there and correct his mistakes to the best of his abilities. The Septstorm put a stop to that line of thought.

Rose had to spend well over half an hour talking to Housemother Hollimer. It wasn’t just explaining the intricacies of the matter to her, but also pleading to not escalate the situation beyond the three Essentiers who were already dealing with it. She had agreed, but the Custodian had not. Lham had vehemently reported the exact situation that had gone on at the lakeside, painting Riven as a dastardly, demon-sympathizing cultist. Which of course had made Riven want to punch Lahm, but the Custodian’s leg was already a big mess.

They had left when it became clear Lham had no intentions of backing down. Screw him to the Chasm then. Riven would just find the boy before whatever he intended to do came to pass.

The raging Septstorm disagreed.

“Three separate rooms,” Rose said, handing Riven and Viriya their keys. They had taken refuge in a small motel. The place had been boarded up when they’d arrived, but one word of who exactly Rose was, and the shutters had been flung open to welcome them with big smiles and embracing arms. “But this is still an assignment, so stick close in case something new comes up. That means no wandering around until morning, understood?”

Riven scowled. Rose had said all that for Riven’s benefit because Viriya was experienced enough to know all that pretty well by now. “I understand, Rose. No sneaking around on my own, or going for a stroll on the roof because I couldn’t sleep. I’ll just moan in my room instead.”

“You do that. And just so you know, Tam will probably be assigned to this as well, if the Custodian insists on a different party.”

“We’re already on it! Why would Father let Tam interfere?”

Rose shrugged. “Just to shut up the Custodian, maybe? Doesn’t matter. He’ll be here, so just keep an eye out.”

“Will the Spectre be all right?” Viriya asked.

They had left Arrilme in the cab Rose had hired, and she had handed out a big wad of seals to let the Spectre stay in the car for now. Greed had made the chauffeur accept, but Riven couldn’t shake the feeling something might go wrong.

“She’ll be fine,” Rose said with a  dismissive wave of her hand. “If she isn’t, that cab driver won’t be either.”

Not exactly a comforting thought, if Riven’s opinion mattered.

She took off, boots clomping on the stairs on her way up as he muttered something about the boy’s fascinating transformation. Riven scowled. There had been nothing fascinating. Horrifying maybe, but not fascinating. Viriya was clutching her key like it was the most precious thing in the world. Her mask had slipped just a little, giving way to the ghost of a troubled expression.

“Hey—” Riven began, but Viriya ignored him and followed Rose upstairs. Well, so much for being open.

Riven’s room wasn’t much to speak of. He hadn’t expected royal luxury given the whole motel wasn’t much larger than his apartment building, and was dingy and dirty to boot. The kind of place where workers reluctantly stayed after a bad night of drinking left them too intoxicated to go home to their families. But still.

His room was downright depressing. The bed was thin as an ironing board, the lone, hard pillow looking more like a stolen couch cushion. A rickety chair stood beside a flimsy, circular table, and the glass on it had collected at least a century of dust. He was he supposed to stay here?

Then again, he deserved no less after his failure earlier. Deserved worse, in truth.

Sleep wouldn’t come. Big surprise. Maybe it was the stupid bed and pillow, or the unwashed covers that didn’t allow him to remove the outer layers of his uniform and get more comfortable, or the fact that a spider at the corner of the ceiling and the wall was busy spinning a web, but it felt as though even if everything had been calm and perfect, Riven’s heart wouldn’t allow any rest. No rest for the wicked, after all.

Franry had become a demon. Arrilme had gone to so much trouble to help her little son, and had entrusted them to help her with her situation. Yet right before their very eyes, the little boy had turned into a Deathless.

He was now beyond any help. Riven was consigned to failure.

Or was he? There had to be a way to reverse the situation right? It was still early, and the boy’s transformation couldn’t have been complete. Maybe if Riven found Franry, he could take the boy… where exactly?

Riven inhaled a sharp breath. The research facility, of course. They had to have a ton of knowledge over there on everything about the Deathless. That was their job after all. He’d have to find the boy and take him there.

Taking in a deeper breath, Riven pushed himself out of his plank of a bed. He pulled his belt through the loops of his trousers and reattached his new gun and Coral knife. Then he sneaked out, the clattering noise of the raging Septstorm growing louder. He paused. Perhaps he should leave a little note for Rose’s benefit, just to let her know he wasn’t being dramatic and strolling around. This was an action he had to take on alone. No one else wanted to help Franry, and he didn’t have the time to convince everyone what the right thing to do here was.

Thoughts of any notes were cut off by the sound of approaching steps. He twisted around to look the other way, spotting Viriya coming along from the other direction. Great. Just great.

“Why are you out of bed?” she asked. Like him, she too was still in full Essentier uniform. Even her bun hadn’t been undone.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Riven said.

“I outrank you. I could order you to reveal it.”

“That assumes I’m bound to obey your every order.”

“Aren’t you?”

Something in her eyes told him that was veering dangerously away from a little joke. Time to change the conversation. Riven took a deep breath and told her about his conclusions. Maybe she didn’t deserve to know when she kept hiding everything about her, but he didn’t want to stoop to her level. Pettiness also didn’t agree with him much.

“So, I’m going to find the boy and take him to the research facility,” Riven ended.

Viriya didn’t look like she approved of the plan much. “You need to lay low for now. Most of this whole mess is because the boy ran way.”

“You’re saying the whole thing is my fault?”

Her stare was flat and unforgiving. A cliff face that offered no purchase at all. “Not the whole thing ,of course, only one small shove that pushed us faster down the hill of this mountain of a mess we’re on.”

“Very poetic. Did you come up with that while you were doing literally nothing, just standing there like a puppet with its strings cut?”

Viriya closed her eyes and turned away. “Go back to bed, Riven. There isn’t anything any of us can do right now. If you haven’t noticed, the Septstorm is coming down hard.”

She was right. Riven walked to the nearest grimy window. Besides his dirty reflection, all he saw outside was the chaos inflicted by the Septstorm. Glittering dust fell down in a shower of meteors, some no larger than sprinkles barely visible like dust motes caught in sunlight, others bigger than his fist, golden hail that punched cracks and craters into the walls and streets. In solidarity with the Sept, the storm’s noise threatened to poke cracks in his eardrums. But for some reason, the chaos helped to calm him down. Staying angry at Viriya wasn’t going to help anything.

“What are you doing outside?” Riven asked.

She looked away. “My leg was hurting, so I couldn’t sleep. The pain medication isn’t working as well as it used to.”

That didn’t sound like the whole truth. “Your leg was hurting so you thought a stroll would help?”

“It helps me get used to the pain, yes.”

“But… you’ve been walking everywhere for the past few days. Don’t you think that might be making it worse? I think what you need is to entomb yourself in your home for a few days. Let yourself actually heal for once.”

“How very kind of you. But we don’t have the time for luxuries like healing.”

Riven looked around, staring at the walls where the whit had faded to a dirty yellow. “We definitely don’t have time for luxuries.”

Viriya looked around, eyes peering everywhere as though she was expecting someone to listen in. Weird. The only ones here beside the three of them was the old owner of this motel and an even older lady who helped take care of the motel. Really, it was a miracle the whole place hadn’t fallen apart by now.

“I’ll admit I was… distracted at the orphanage,” Viriya said. “Seems like we both want something different than everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” Riven asked.

“Didn’t you notice anything suspicious there?”

“The whole place was suspicious, Viriya. Literally everything. I don’t think I can pick any single thing from everything else, honestly.”

“Well, I can.” She looked troubled for a bit, then sighed. “But I need to take a seat.”

Riven’s mouth opened, but he didn’t trust himself to speak immediately so he snapped it shut. Viriya wouldn’t ever go so far as to admit she was hurting or ask for help because of her own stupidity, and pointing that out to her would only start another argument. But he got the hint. “Come on, My room’s close by.”

They went to his room, Riven leading and Viriya limping along with the help of her cane. He nodded at his bed, taking the rickety chair for himself. Wouldn’t do if the thing broke and Viriya fell down in her state. She was hurting enough as it was.

Viriya let herself down on the bed with a soft, grateful sigh. “I can see why you haven’t been able to sleep either.”

“Your bed isn’t like this?”

“Let’s just say my bed isn’t something that can be defined as one.”

Damn it. If only there hadn’t been a Septstorm. This dingy motel was going to be the death of them, if not by a sleepless night then tomorrow when their sleeplessness caught up to them at some extreme moment.

“You were saying something about suspicions,” Riven prompted.

Viriya took in a deep breath. “You must have noticed the Custodian acting weird, and the necklace he was wearing.”

“A Monastical necklace, right?”

“Yes, but that’s a necklace that belongs on the Monasts only. No one else. Yes, there is the argument that he may have received the gift and is brazenly or ignorantly wearing it, but I’ve heard his muttered prayers. It’s.. not what you think.”

“Prayers?”

“Take us to the Beyond. Bring us to the Chasm. Divine Saviours, Exalted Beings, Celestial Offspring, deliver unto us our finality.” Viriya looked as though she had been ejecting vomit. She grimaced, taking a moment to swirl her tongue in her mouth. “That’s what it sounded like, and I recognize those lines. They aren’t from any of the official Monastical scriptures, nor from Hymns and Sagas.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Riven frowned trying to recall his prayers. Scions, he’d promised to pray so often and kept fluking. He’d do it next time. A little promise to himself. “It’s like they’re familiar, but twisted.”

“A cult, Riven. He’s part of an apocalyptic cult. They were once an unrecognized sect of the Monastical Faith, but got officially kicked out after their actions turned extreme. I recognized those the words the moment I heard them, and my attention was diverted for a while.”

“A cultist in the orphanage? But why?”

“Sept.”

“What?”

“All that Sept the boy was easing. Don’t you think it was odd. It wasn’t just the clump that fell from the sky, Riven. I saw it. I know there was a hidden stash somewhere at or near the orphanage, and the boy found out where. That’s why the Custodian was so flustered and angry the boy wasn’t killed immediately. He wants Franry dead so his secret can’t be found.”

Riven swallowed. The orphanage swam before his eyes again, a trap of mazy corridors and dark rooms. Little windows that let nothing in, only tormenting the prisoners with glimpses of the world outside. As much as it looked like a tomb, it seemed impossible it could be the hideout of a gang of cultists. But scepticism wouldn’t go down well. Not if it was aggressive, at least.

“The whole place is rotten to the core,” Riven said. “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be a hideout for a bunch of cultists.”

“Riven. I can hear the no. It’s fine. You don’t have to believe me.”

Riven blinked, then laughed. “No! Look, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process, especially with Franry and everything. But don’t you see, that’s all the more reason we need to get to him before the rest of them do. He has to know everything, and once he spills it, we can flush out those cultists too.”

“It’s not that easy. Your Father has most likely given the order to exterminate the demon, especially after he attacked someone. No one is really going to care he’s a little smaller than average.”

“No way. We just need to find him first and explain everything that we know.”

Viriya looked away, a frustrated growl bubbling out from her throat. “We don’t know anything Riven. We haven’t found anything. We can’t prove shit. It’s not how this world works.”

Riven sighed. “It comes down to one thing, Viriya. Do you want to help the boy or not?”

“Our duty is to stop the Deathless. If you only intend to meddle out of some naïve hope of saving him, it’s best if you steer clear.”

Riven caught himself before he could lash out. It wasn’t fair. Not fair at all. That boy hadn’t done anything to anyone, yet they were dooming him for eternity, determined to capture and kill him. It wasn’t right. Screaming about it would only cement its position as untenable, though.

Viriya had her cane lying across her knees. She was staring at his cushion, maybe noting the stitches, maybe wondering about everything else.

“Let’s establish some things,” Riven announced.

Viriya turned to him, cool mask back in place. Like everything else, the light in his room was dim, flickering every now and then as it threatened to give out. She didn’t talk, waiting for him to continue instead.

“Do you want to help Franry?” Riven asked.

Viriya vented out a long-suffering sigh. “As I said already—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Viriya. Do you want to help Franry?”

“Yes, I do. But—”

“I know your misgivings, but we’re not done establishing things yet. Do you want to help Arrilme?”

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Do you think they should be helped?”

“Yes.”

“Do they deserve to be helped?”

“Yes.”

“Is helping them the right thing to do?”

She paused before answering. “Yes.”

Riven smiled at her, leaning forward in his chair. Leaning a little too much, and his chair squeaked, almost tipping over and spilling on the floor before he pushed it back in place. What a way it would be to ruin the moment. “Then there you have it. It’s the right thing to do. Duty can go screw itself for all I care because the right thing to do is what we should be doing. All the time.”

Viriya shook her head. “Riven—”

“Franry is Arrilme’s child, Viriya. Her son. They’re family. They mean something to each other, beyond whatever law this Demesne sets, or some order from someone high up. They love each other. Doesn’t that count for something, Viriya? Isn’t that love something precious and to be protected?”

Viriya said nothing. Her face was fixed on Riven, jaws locked tight together as though opening her mouth would reveal something disastrous. The green of her eyes were showing, a strange glimmer in them that reminded Riven of the dark swirls in the Sept crystal, a hint of hidden depths refusing to surface.

“I understand, all right,” she finally said. “I know what it’s like. I—my brother was like that. A mess to deal with and everything fell apart because of him and I just…”

She looked away, breathing heavily as though every word had been heavier than a mountain. Riven scratched on hand with the other. There was that silly urge to reach out to her again, a stupid idea to give her what meagre comfort he could provide. “Where is your family now?”

“They’re fine,” she answered a little too quickly. “Well, maybe not fine, but they’re mostly alive and that’s more than I can say for Arrilme. I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. None of it was my brother’s fault, not really.” Viriya looked at him then, dared to see him with her eyes bright viridian as the star that adorned her fist so often, her lips quivering with every word. So much strain. And all for some words. All for the weight they burdened her life with. “My brother fell ill because of some mistakes from my father while we were journeying here from our home in the capital. We were attacked my demons, and I had to run away to get help. When I returned, they were gone. I found them all eventually—my father had died, and my mother was cowering some place else with my nearly-dead brother. We were saved, but my brother never properly recovered from the trauma. He’s… permanently debilitated to his bed.”

Riven had gone hollow. He didn’t recall the last time he had heard so many words from Viriya, nor did he remember when he had been left so shaken. For all that she had kept hidden for so long, he had never assumed it could have been this traumatic. This hard. This impossible to think, live with, and bear.

What was he supposed to say in turn? Whatever had gone on in Riven’s charmed life paled in comparison to her suffering. Father dead by demons, brother bedridden for, Viriya had suffered far too much.

“I…” Riven began, then paused as the words failed him.

“It’s all right.” Viriya looked away again, the quaver in her voice receding now that the truth was out. Now that it was all over with. “I don’t expect some wise response and I don’t want to hear some kind bullshit like you’re sorry for my life. You don’t have to be, and I’m past it now. It’s all in the past.”

“Of course. Well, I am sorry for harassing you about it all. You’re strong for being able to say it.”

She laughed a little, but it held neither mirth nor warmth. “I’ve never told the whole story to a soul. Never, not from the beginning to the end like that, even if the details are still vague. And now that I have, I don’t even know what I feel. It’s strange. Like I lost something I never even knew I had, and I don’t know if I want it back, or if I’m glad it’s gone.”

Riven was silent for a moment. “It’s a lot. And I guess, in the end, as much as I want to understand and sympathize, I haven’t gone through something like that so I can’t. It’s impossible.”

“Like I said, it’s fine. It’s not something I’d want anyone to understand or sympathize with. I’m happy not many others have gone through something like that. I wouldn’t wish those few days, that whole week honestly, on even my worst enemy.”

They didn’t speak for a while. It didn’t seem appropriate to bring up everything else that was going on, even though Viriya had regained her usual composure. It still boggled him and bothered him somewhere deep, like an itch so far below the surface of his consciousness, he couldn’t even hope to scratch it. How had she suffered through something like that? Why had the Scions picked her of all people?

Unfair. Everything was unfair. There couldn’t ever be a good reason on why Franry and Arrilme had been given their fates.

“I want to help Franry,” Viriya said. She pushed herself to her feet, leaning on her Coral cane. “I’m not sure how we might go about doing it with everything else going on but…”

Riven stood up too, a smile tugging onto his face. “We need to get him to the research facility in Ascension Demesne. If there’s anyone who can help them somehow, it has to be there.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I’m not sure there ever was such a young demon seen before, nor many first-hand accounts of witnessing a transformation into a demon. We can use a research pretext to get him there and keep him safe, maybe even Arrilme too. It’s not impossible.”

“Exactly!”

A little smile bloomed on her lips. A true, wide smile that stretched across her face, and Riven felt his own grow even wider. Had he ever seen her smile like that before?

“Do you think, Viriya, you can do it?” he asked. “I mean, go against them, if necessary? They’re going to expect you to help capture the demon and bring him to them.”

Her smile had faded, but that familiar smirk was back. A hint of a grin at the corner of her lips. “I’ll capture him, never fear. Just not for them, though they don’t need to know that. Besides, I know who to trust ultimately.”

“Who’s that?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not you.” She smirked again when Riven gave a mock gasp. Then she sobered, staring him right in the eyes. “In all seriousness, I know to trust what’s right in the end.”

Riven’s smile gave way to a soft laugh. There never could have been a better answer.

They had more to discuss, of course. The exact specifics of a plan had to be determined, including how they were to find Franry, keep Tam distracted, and of course how they might find a ride to Ascension, but they didn’t get the time.

Rose didn’t even knock before barging int through the door. “She’s gone!”

“The Chasm are you talking about?” Riven asked. “And did no one teach you how to knock?”

She looked between him and Viriya, a strange flicker passing over her face before panic settled back in. “The Spectre, Arrilme. She’s missing.”