There was something very nostalgic about moving through the open countryside. The smell of fresh dew upon the fertile fields, the figures of farmers tending to their crops before the heat of the day picked up, it all brought a mix of sensations, Octavia did not think she missed. That and a lot of painful memories, with the ones of the last year before her father’s death being the most prevalent.

The young girl had done all she could to tend to the small plot of land her family owned, but nothing she did was enough and her best only delayed the inevitable. Come to think, she didn’t like the countryside that much. What she liked was the sense of freedom it offered. Out here, beyond the safety of walls and armed guards, a person forged their destiny. Out here, adventurers were kings and figures of legend.

Octavia dared a glance at the cart where the Fixer had loaded Septima’s body and almost as soon the girl averted her eyes. She could not accept it, that the old woman had died so suddenly. It was unfair, cruel and soul-crushing. She had no time to say her goodbyes, or even share one last cup of that damn awful bitter tea the maid loved so much. Perhaps the worst part was the Fixer’s silence.

His face an unreadable mask without a sign of grief, or any other human emotion for that matter. There were moments she wondered if he was human at all. Now, however, she was certain he was not.  Sure, Octavia understood that he loved Septima and was struck deeply by her loss, but he could at least show it. Her own eyes were bloodshot and she had stopped sobbing quietly only an hour ago, and she had known the woman for only a year.

“Master,” Octavia began in an unsteady voice, “if you need to talk…”

A grunt and a shake of the Fixer’s head was enough to put an end to any possible conversation on that topic. Well, if he was not willing to talk, she would. He wasn’t the only one who needed support at a time like this.

“Master, with all due respect,” Octavia took a deep breath and steeled herself for the words she was about to speak. “Screw you!”

This got his attention. The Fixer stopped and looked at her with those scary dark eyes of his, and for a moment the girl had a genuine reason to fear for her life. She was well aware that she had crossed a line, but at the same time, it felt so right to simply speak her mind. And there was a lot she wanted to say. With a newfound resolve, Octavia continued, heedless of any and all danger.

“For a single moment last night, I believed you were human. To the Abyss with it all! I actually thought Septima was right and there was something worth protecting in that cold, jaded, shrivelled heart of yours! I’ve seen sculptures that show more emotion than you! If Septima hadn’t died from her illness, seeing you like this would have killed her!” Each word that came out was with the sharpness of a poison coated dagger.

As Octavia paused, to calm her heart and the shaking of her hands, she realised that indeed she said too much. This time she managed to wound the Fixer. The girl could see it in those black pits of his, in the vein forming at the edge of his temple, in the hint of a scowl on his lips, in the controlled way he exhaled. Briefly, she wondered if he would bother to bury her corpse after killing her. Or would he leave her for the wild animals and monsters to feast on her remains? Either way, it didn’t matter. Emboldened by the fact that she was not dead, yet, Octavia continued.

“This was her fear!” She pointed at Septima’s body, lying motionless in the cart, covered by a fine silk sheet. “She dreaded that a day would come when you would shed away your humanity. And I was a fool to try and convince her that there was no need for her to worry. Do you think you’re the only one to have lost someone? Guess what – life fucking sucks!”

Octavia’s entire body was shaking like a leaf from the anger and frustration she felt. It would be so much easier if the Fixer did something. He could refute her, protest or strike her, instead he did nothing. Standing motionless just out of arm’s reach, he looked more intimidating than she could ever imagine. And yet, he might as well be as distant as the mountains on the horizon.

“Last night you asked me to make a choice.” She hissed at him, her throat feeling sore from all the yelling. “I thought I made the right one because I thought I was going to fallow a man. A fucking legend. But I’ll be damned if I’ll be following one of Husk’s Shadows!”

She couldn’t look at him anymore. For this reason, Octavia turned around and marched towards the back of the cart. The few steps it took her to get there, drained almost all of her strength. She could barely hold back the tears as she placed her trembling hands on Septima’s head and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Softly, with a quivering voice, the girl whispered to the dead woman.

“Forgive me… To see you to your last destination would be an honour. Alas, this is where we… Where we… We part ways…” Octavia barely managed to squeeze the words out.

Departing now felt like a great betrayal. However, she could not continue walking the same path as the Fixer. Perhaps with time, her anger would extinguish itself, but at the present, the very thought of staying by his side and call him Master - like an obedient slave - was causing her actual physical pain. A part of her knew that she should be worried about the slave mark on her thigh, that despite his claims the Fixer had not disabled the spell, bounding her to his will.

Octavia wanted to laugh. She was truly a fool. Perhaps the greatest fool in history, for trusting any word this inhuman creature had said to her. But she had and it was only because of Septima and the devotion she showed to this monster of a man. That was what blinded Octavia to the truth. She couldn’t blame the old woman, only feel sorry for her and all the years she had wasted in service to such a heartless creature.

Grabbing her back, which contained all she possessed, the girl paused for a second and reached within the linen sack. She removed the rather heavy coin purse from within and placed it gently next to Septima’s head. She would not take the Fixer’s money. The last thing Octavia wished for, was to owe anything to him. Sure, making such a decision after keeping the armour, clothing and weapons, he had given, did sound a bit hypocritical, however, she firmly believed that she had earned those items with her sweat and blood.

The main question that occupied Octavia’s head was: What happens next? What is she supposed to do? There was this whole thing with the Gods and their request. And the Fixer had made it clear from the start that he was not getting involved, and she was not near strong enough to accomplish anything, and she was poorer than a church mouse. And there were too many ands. This left her with only one option – become an adventurer.

“Tsch…” The sharp sound coming from the shallow ditch of the irrigation canal startled Octavia. Before she could act, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen or could imagine, rose from the tall grass.

Hair as white as fresh winter snow, skin with the slightest hint of pink, lips both thin and alluring, face devoid of a single wrinkle, all of those paled in comparison to the bright silver eyes, glistening in the morning sun. Reflecting its light, they were like perfect copies of the Noon Moon, which marked the change of the seasons. Those magnificent orbs rooted Octavia to the ground and she stood like an idiot with mouth hanging open, staring at the intruder with unhidden fascination.

“Pathetic.” A single word, but it carried so much disdain, that the girl was almost willing to offer her own life as an apology for offending this avatar of perfection. “She can’t even withstand my Charm Gaze.” The woman continued, shaking her head and snorting in apparent disgust. And yet, her voice was like a balm for the girl’s wounded heart.

It felt as if a fog lifted from Octavia’s mind as the woman’s visage faded, hidden behind the heavy fabric of the hood.

“Vaar vi, mes atra.” The woman spoke and kissed the tips of the fingers on her left hand, before pressing them against Septima’s forehead. “May Saya judge you fairly.” She finished with so much kindness, that it made Octavia question the previous emotions in her words.

“She does make a valid point, though.” The woman continued, her voice growing colder.

“Why are you here, Ner?” The Fixer asked in a level voice, which was enough to finally break the spell that had ensnared Octavia.

“Really?” Ner’s head snapped in the direction of the Fixer and she stared at him. “You’ve not seen me for a hundred years and this is all you have to say?”

A part of Octavia knew that this was the perfect opportunity for her to make her exit, and put all of this behind her. But a bigger part wanted to know what was going on. She felt lost, curious and a little angry at how everyone was ignoring her. Even at a glance, she could tell that this newcomer, this Ner, was strong. Way stronger than her, and the Fixer was in another league altogether. Still, this was no excuse for them to treat her like she did not exist.

Octavia was about to speak when the woman’s shoulders dropped and a long sigh escaped her lips.

“I’ve come to take you home.” She said quietly and directed her attention at the cart carrying Septima’s body. “And to say goodbye to a friend…”

“I find that hard to believe.” This time the Fixer moved, taking a single step forward, his posture hinting at barely restrained violence. “Septima hated you…”

“Rebeca!” Ner snapped at him, and Octavia could swear she heard a hint of a growl at the end. “She’s no longer a number.” The woman hissed. “Until death, be it my or yours. That was the deal.”

The savage anger with which Ner spoke, made the girl take an involuntary step back. There was a lot hidden behind those few words, Octavia could feel it, but she dared not open her mouth. Actually, if she thought about it, being ignored wasn’t so bad. It was preferred to standing between those two and the altercation brewing between them. However, she placed a hand on the short sword on her hip. Octavia was not stupid. The last thing she wanted was to be caught by surprise again.

“Sure.” Ner continued, not giving the Fixer a chance to speak. Her attention fixated solely on him. “Rebeca hated me, but I assure you it was not mutual. I was actually quite fond of her. Liked the others, even Prima.” At the mention of the Fixer’s lover, the woman paused, and Octavia could see a shadow pass over her face.

“Only one I hated was Phoebe…” She finished with a whisper. With that, the coin finally dropped.

“You’re Seconda.” Octavia couldn’t stop herself in time.

This was the person she meant to search for from the very start. There was so much the girl wanted to ask, that it was hard to choose where to start.

Come to think it, she thought, Seconda is supposed to be a vampire. So, how could she be here, outside, during the day? Weren’t her kind supposed to burn like fire when exposed to the light? Yes, those were good questions to ask and move to more important matters from there. However, before Octavia’s thoughts could become words, the vampire shot her an annoyed glare, her face twisting in disgust as if she was looking at excrement.

 “Tsch.” With only that, Ner returned her attention back to the Fixer. “Going after kids now? What? Did you tell her there was sweet cake in your cart?”

“Why are you here?” The large man’s face hardened as he repeated the question, which was promptly ignored.

“Do you make her call you Daddy? I thought only I could do that?” A mischievous smile formed on the woman’s lips, and Octavia could feel her own face turn red. She might lack experience in such matters, but she was old enough to understand what the vampire was implying.

“Answer my question, Ner or…” The Fixer’s voice was like thunder.

“Or what?” Ner barked back at him, without moving a muscle. She was challenging him, but at the same time, there was a complete lack of any form of threat in her posture. “We both know there is little you can do to harm me. Just as I can’t hurt you. So, please, do tell what you’re going to do?”

The Fixer’s fist clenched and unclenched; his face hardened even further, and Octavia could see fire burn in his dark eyes. All of it promised retribution. But all his reaction did was pile more questions on those that were already flooding her mind. After a moment, which felt like an hour, he relaxed and let out a tired sigh.

“I thought so.” Seconda shook her head, not bothering to hide her disappointment. In a more sombre voice, she added. “I told you, I’m here to take you home. You can’t seriously be thinking of going there on foot. It’s a two-week trip and you got neither a mage nor a priest to preserver the body.”

“Neither are you.” Was all he said, before going to the horse and pulling on its reigns.

“True,” Ner shrugged and sat the edge of the cart placing a gentle hand on Septima’s body. “Narris is.”

This time, the Fixer’s reaction caught Octavia by surprise. He flinched and averted his head. Almost as if he was ashamed. Damn it, she should have given the diaries of his previous servants more attention. Because of constantly postponing reading them, she had no idea what was going on.

Surprisingly, the Fixer addressed her, instead of Seconda. There was resignation and sadness in his voice as he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” Octavia’s jaw dropped. She did not expect this. “With time, perhaps you’ll understand, why I react like this. Sept…” A growl from the vampire stopped the word from escaping his mouth. “Rebeca was my companion for fifty-two years. She is… was, the seventh to take this role.”

It was clear there was more he wanted to say, but even so, it was enough to make Octavia feel ashamed for her previous outburst. Losing someone you’ve known for such a long time was something that could break any person. She should have realised this sooner. The girl wanted to apologise, but nothing that came to mind sounded good enough. Instead, she closed her mouth and gave the Fixer time to continue.

“You are free to choose your path. No strings attached, no conditions.”

“No, she’s not,” Seconda interjected, fury decorating her beautiful face. “By Husk I swear, even the Goddess of Intrigue is not as manipulative as you. The pipsqueak is coming with us. She ought to see what it means to stay by your side.”

“You’ve lost any right to interfere…”

“Don’t care.” With that the vampire dropped to the ground on one knee and spoke in perfect elvish, the words said so fast that they almost sounded like a single one. “Ieeri nom ki ullia Kre ofitte su-fatte.”

A wave of vertigo hit Octavia like a mallet. Her vision became blurred and her eyes burned with a fears itch. Her stomach turned and she could feel the bile creep up her throat. The meagre remains of her breakfast marched back the way they came, only to stop and form a lump at the edge of her mouth. Then came a loud bang in her ears and this time Octavia was certain someone hit her with a mallet in the gut. Unceremoniously, the girl vomited a foul mixture of bile, food and blood at her feet. The need to wretch was so strong, it felt as if her stomach was trying to turn itself inside out.

“First time partaking in mass Teleportation.” A calm soft voice said from behind her. “I wish I could tell you that it will get better, alas, the first reaction is how your body will react every time.”

Octavia whipped her mouth with her hand and blinked several times in order to get rid of the itching in her eyes, resting the urge to rub them with her palms. As soon as her vision cleared and her mind comprehended what she was seeing, the girl wanted to smile and recoil in terror at the same time for having experienced something like this. They were no longer in the sprawling farmland outside the capital. No, now they were somewhere up in the mountains. Very high in the mountains, there were signs of fresh snow sprinkled all over the place, where the sun was yet to reach. A chill gust of wind cut through her like a knife. Unlike her, the Fixer and Seconda seemed unperturbed by what had happened and Octavia had to admit that she was rather envious.

It took her another second to realise that whoever had spoken was still speaking. Somewhat startled the girl turned around. There were two women standing there. Well, one was standing, the other one was sitting in some strange chairs with large dolly wheels attached to its sides.

The first was covered from head to toe with a thick cream coloured dress with a deep hood, complemented by a thick veil and white fox-fur gloves. A strange symbol was embroidered on the chest and the veil with thin copper thread. Whoever made this dress, had to be a master tailor, and Octavia could only hope to gain half of the skill needed to much such exquisite work.

In comparison, the one sitting was like a glowing jewel, despite being dressed in a simple white robe and a wool blanket spread over her legs. But that’s how it usually is with elves. Octavia had no idea which exact kind of elf she was, although if she was honest, her knowledge on that subject was rather limited. Thanks to her memories of her older self, she could recognise Athori with their coal skin, Sithri with their greenish skin and short delicate antlers, and Liosa with their bronze skin and short-red hair. The girl knew from stories that there were also Ilika elves, who dwelled deep inside the forests, refusing contact with the outside world, and Girra, who inhabit the volcanic islands in the far south. However, this was not one of them, lacking the tell-tale lava-like decoration on her skin.

No, this particular elf was very different. She had saffron-coloured skin, mint green hair and eyes the colour of the night sky. Looking at her, made Octavia feel at peace. At the same time, there was something very unnerving about that serene face and kind eyes.

“You must be Octavia, our new sister.” The elf spoke, a sad smile spreading on her face. “I wish that we could have met under more pleasant circumstances. Sadly, life rarely accommodates our desires.”

At that, the elf looked at her right arm, and only now did Octavia notice that it was missing from the elbow down.

“Mistress, we must return to the house. Your condition...” The woman behind the chair leaned in as she spoke, only to be silenced by a growl from Seconda.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Issa.” The elf placed her good left hand on top of the woman’s gloved one resting on her shoulder. She turned towards Octavia again, and gave her a kind smile, that only hinted at the previous sadness she had seen there. “Please excuse Nerthus’ behaviour. Despite her age, her manners are lacking.”

She shot Seconda a mischievous look, before continuing.

“I am Narris Kre of the Razsa and as the Guardian of this sacred place, I welcome you home, Master,” Narris, lowered her head directing her attention at the Fixer.

The man was as motionless as a statue and might as well be one, Octavia thought, a portion of her previous anger returning. There was so much she wanted to say, but the elf was faster.

“Let us continue this inside.” With that the scenery behind her shattered like glass, revealing a group of five rather modest wooden cabins, and a well-maintained small graveyard behind them, at the edge of the steep mountain slope.

“Issa, call Iris and Itaxia and prepare sister Rebeca’s body for the ceremony.” Narris request was a well-disguised command, one that the woman behind her was not too eager to follow.

“Mistress, I…”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my new sister will help me to the house.” She gave Octavia an expecting smile, that pretty much forced the girl to accept the offer. “If it helps, you may call me Narris, no need to add sister to it. I’ve been told it can be off-putting. Or if you prefer, you may call me Quinta. Either is fine.”