After shaking the sand out of our clothes and changing back, we left the bathhouse and rejoined our begrudging escort.

We were led to a ridiculously long dining room, but even more ridiculous was the sheer number of automatons standing guard along the walls. On the massive table, a feast fit for triple our number awaited us. My most primal weakness, my stomach, threatened to ruin our plan. Stay strong, Seth. Stay strong.

The queen greeted us and bid us take our seats. I managed to turn the deep, inner turmoil of missing out on this feast into a pretty convincing mask of nausea. I stayed standing as everyone else sat, burning the image of the delicious food into my mind. The thought of walking away from these glazed meats and extravagant confectioneries after a week of desert food was bringing tears to my eyes.

Queen Dajjal: “My word! Are you okay, Mr…?”

It was difficult, but as I spoke I looked deeply into her eyes, trying to read her aura. It was like a finely controlled flame that wanted to spread. Plenty dangerous, but only let loose when necessary. There was something… off about her aura though, like it wasn’t only her own anymore, which greatly worried me.

Seth: “...Seth. My apologies, I may have been under the sun too long, my queen. I would not want to tarnish your meal with this illness. Perhaps I should find myself an inn to rest for the night…”

Zyturak played along.

Zyturak: “Oh, but if you’re not feeling well we should come along to ensure you make it there alright. After all, I couldn’t possibly let my dear friend go out alone into the burning hot sun like this…”

Queen Dajjal balked at the idea, making a swift judgement.

Queen Dajjal: “Nonsense! We will move your companion to our finest accommodations and ensure he is well taken care of. Well, as it happens I no longer have any nurses, but where better to rest in all the land than in the comfort of my grand palace?”

More of that explaining away the human staff. Well, there being no one to check on me would work in our favour here. I tried to do my best impression of a swoon.

Seth: ”You are most gracious, your highness. Though I shall forevermore regret missing your peerless banquet, I will take comfort in the sublime sleep I will surely come to know during my night in paradise.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. I may have laid it on a little thick for her tastes, but the queen was delighted.

Queen Dajjal: “Oh, you may never sleep again after a night of such comfort! Come now, these friendly fellows will lead you to your room, where you can rest.”

She clapped and two of the automatons came to life, nearly pinching me between them as they led me away. I was pulled through two hallways, dragging along fine rugs as I went, then thrown into my room in a heap. I didn’t hear the door locking, so after a quiet moment, I tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

Great. I’d never been so unhappy to be given the opportunity to nap.

I assumed the mechanical guards were just standing solidly against the door, so that particular escape was out. The room was as extravagant as everything else in the palace. Aside from the massive bed, there was a vanity mirror sitting on a table, a fine rocking chair in the corner, and a window. I peeked out the curtain and saw three palace guards sorting out our camels outside of some stables in the distance, with two more crossing each other’s paths as they marched around the perimeter. 

So, the window escape is also out. Darn. Seems I have no choice but to climb into bed.

I can admit when I’ve made a mistake. We were running on fumes already when we arrived at the palace, so it could only have been pure adrenaline keeping up our game with the queen. Lying in this fancy bed now caused all of my strength to leave in a hurry, and my eyelids turned traitorous. I thought about how comfortably cool the room felt and how terribly easy it would be to fall asleep…

My eyes flew open. If the room was cool but the window was shut, that could mean- There! It looked like the same vent system I saw in the throne room connected to this one! The only trouble was getting up there. With herculean effort, I rose from the divine comfort of the satin sheets.

As gingerly as possible, I lifted the table and placed it under the vent, but it was still too high. The bed wasn’t going anywhere, so I looked at my last hope - the rocking chair. I pulled it up onto the table and while it wasn’t the most solid of foundations, it might just help me find the exact angle I needed to unhinge the cover. I climbed up and, after getting a feel for my balance, rocked forward slightly. It wasn’t enough. I rocked harder, nearly falling off of my hazardous perch before I managed to grab hold of the brass vent cover. I twisted the handle and, before I fell and broke my neck, shimmied into the hole. 

I crawled for several feet, feeling abrupt changes in temperature as I went. I spotted another vent cover much further ahead, but there was a grate built into the floor right in front of me that was shooting out plumes of hissing steam in warning. I had no choice.

Sure hope Wolfgang can make some more of that balm…

I wished Zyturak were around as well, because I had to choke back my scream as the burning cloud enveloped my body. The metal I touched as I crawled threatened to burn off my fingerprints, so I awkwardly hurtled myself along the floor as best I could. When the metal finally cooled beneath me what felt like an eternity later, I stopped to catch my breath and somehow contend with the pain. I thought of my friends buying me time, which filled me with resolve... then remembered that they were actually just feasting, which filled me with jealousy. 

Well, anyway. I crawled to the other end and saw the throne through the bars. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to get in there very quietly when I saw that the handle was on the outside. There were no automatons left in the room, so I took this as my chance. Praying the cluttered halls wouldn’t echo, I kicked the vent with both legs, nearly breaking them in the process. Only having an outlet for my agonizing pain allowed me to actually knock the thing out. It fell with a heavy clatter, but not wanting to waste time I hoisted myself down immediately. I only fell about 10 feet, but it still hurt like hell. After a minute spent confirming my legs still worked, I got to snooping.

Most of the room was just junk. Expensive junk, sure, but the clutter seriously impeded my search. I looked behind paintings, under rugs, and inside vases. I had been putting off the most obvious potential hiding place given the high likelihood it was booby trapped, but it was time to check the throne itself. I cautiously looked behind it, along its arm rests, and around its base. There were some strange mechanisms, but no sign of The Key. Could it actually be in a vault somewhere? But then how was she controlling-

Queen Dajjal: “Looking for this!?”

...right, stealth hadn’t exactly been an option. Queen Dajjal’s voice was shrill, and she looked seriously pissed off. She held up a chrome sphere inlaid with an otherworldly blue light - The Key. In hindsight, this was pretty obvious, but it’s not like we could have just started frisking the queen. My friends ran in behind her, but her automaton army followed.

Seth: "Would you believe I got lost on the way to the latrine? Ha... ha..."

The queen shook her head, deciding to ignore my buffoonery entirely, then quivered with rage as she turned to Zyturak.

Queen Dajjal: “This is why I prefer the Cenotaph’s machines... People are disgusting. Ever since I took the throne they have done nothing but betray me at every turn. Conspiring against me. Always doubting me. Not my automatons. They’re obedient. Loyal. They don’t lie to me.”

She growled that last part out through gritted teeth. Zyturak only smiled sadly at her.

Queen Dajjal: “Why even bother extending a hand to those in need, when they just bite it time and time again!? I should have just taken my due from your cold, dead bodies. Well, it’s never too late, I suppose...”

She clapped and her metallic attendants moved to restrain us. Xenna’s aether orb appeared in a flash, striking two of her aggressors with bolts of electricity, frying their delicate circuitry. 

Wolfgang was brandishing his bone claws, and to my incredible surprise he sliced clean through the torso of the mechanical soldier that lunged for him in a shower of sparks. Just whose bones were those!?

Maeve was grabbed by a guard, but familiar, bloody tendrils shot out from her sides, and the two grappled until the offending automaton was pulled right in half.

Zyturak was entirely focused on the queen, who was simply staring at him with a vacant gaze. Realizing his plan I ran for The Key, but as I touched it it went haywire; The automatons started attacking themselves as readily as they did us. Unfortunately this also broke Queen Dajjal out of her trance, who deftly pushed me aside and fled to her throne. She jumped into it and, with a manic look in her eye, held The Key aloft. 

Queen Dajjal: “What need do I have of human subjects, when machines are the future!? This is only the beginning - my iron soldiers will march across the land, claiming all remaining Cenotaph automatons. We will annihilate every army of flesh that stands in our way… but you will not live to regret your treason, outsiders!”

Then the whole throne retreated into the floor, which closed as quickly as it opened, leaving us to contend with her discordant army. Well, everyone but me, civilian that I was. A few human guards entered the throne room along with the mechanical ones, giving me an idea. I ran to the window, trying desperately to open the massive, gaudy thing. A moment later a sanguine flash passed through my peripheral vision and the glass shattered. Maeve caught up to me, casting me her thousand-yard stare, which had no less effect now than when her eyes were lined with kohl.

Maeve: “Going somewhere, lover boy?”

Seth: “I left the weapon you gave me with the camels... I think I can get there now that the guards are distracted!"

Maeve: “What, do you have a death wish? Not without me, you aren’t!”

I kissed her quickly before checking on the others.

Seth: “Will they be okay without you?”

Maeve: “They can handle this much. You’re going to need me more than they do!”

Seth: “Thank you, Maeve. You’re the best.”

Maeve used her tendrils like limbs, balancing on them to crawl through the sill like a spider, then helped me up after her. We ran for the stables, but when we arrived there were two guards waiting with spears, seemingly in no hurry to go to Queen Dajjal’s aid but more than willing to defend themselves. Maeve dispatched the guards so handily, with a tendril around each throat, that it took me a moment to realize she had done so without killing them. I trusted her heartfelt story in Aria, but it was still reassuring to see it confirmed firsthand.

I had a nasty start as I turned the corner and was confronted by a large face with a vacant stare. I shook my head when I realized it was just Demon, chewing hay without a care in the world. I was glad to see they were treating him as well as they were planning to treat us pre-heist.

Maeve: “Here! Hopefully this will help with that jumpiness.”

She handed me the sleek Cenotaph weapon, which while reassuring also came with its own share of anxieties. I didn’t have the first idea how to use the thing or if I even should, but the weight of something in my hands was enough for now. 

Seth: “Thanks! Let’s get back-”

A deafening screech of metal caused me to cover my ears as the ground quaked. Maeve had to support me as I nearly fell over. When the tremors subsided, we rushed back to the courtyard. 

From a large building behind the palace, an absolutely gargantuan Cenotaph war machine rumbled to life. It walked on two massive legs which supported an impenetrable chrome cockpit, interlaced with pulsing blue lights and loaded with instruments of death. Some had similar designs to the turrets from the Hallway of Freedom back at the archives. We couldn’t see inside, but there was no doubt who was at the wheel - the vengeful queen.

Maeve: “The others!”

We saw them exiting the palace, charging boldly towards the juggernaut of destruction.

Seth: “Wait, take cover-!”

Before we made it anywhere near them, however, the war machine fired a salvo of rockets. The very ground our friends stood upon was made entirely into hellfire.

Seth and Maeve: "NO!!”

By the time we reached the scene the bombardment was over. We ran along the cratered ground, searching desperately for our friends, but only scorch marks remained. 

Maeve: “Damn you!!!”

Maeve’s tendrils brought her haphazardly up the side of the hangar that the metal behemoth had emerged from. She lunged onto the cockpit and began her assault, sanguine limbs swiping furiously. Even from here I could see her causing minor fractures in the juggernaut’s armor, but her tendrils were destroying themselves in the process, losing their mass in a bloody mess. Finally noticing Maeve, the queen turned her smaller ordnance on her.

I took an unsteady knee, shakily aiming down the sight of the Cenotaph weapon. Even my nerves couldn’t cause me to miss a target this big.

Zyturak: “Seth… Don’t.”

I nearly fired from surprise alone as I craned my neck around in shock. Zyturak, Wolfgang and Xenna were stuffed into a crude hole in the ground. Xenna’s aether orb had shifted earth-aspected, and I quickly realized how they had defied death. Still, relieved as I was, I couldn’t focus on them right now. I readied my weapon again.

Zyturak: “You don’t understand what that thing does. For all you know, it could kill her too. You need to trust in Maeve.”

I watched through the sight as the mounted turrets that were trained on her started to spin. From where I was standing, she was about to die anyway.

Zyturak: "Not only that… Cenotaph weapons may come at a terrible cost. Just look at Dajjal.”

I looked around at the scorched courtyard, at the palace which was rapidly catching fire and the remains of the loyal guards caught in the crossfire. But to save her… She who had come to mean everything to me…

Sensing my uncertainty, Zyturak spoke in a distant, hesitant voice. 

Zyturak: “...I think you may be underestimating your master…”

There was no innuendo in those words this time. I sighed, finally throwing down the weapon. 

Seth: "When all of this is over, Zy, we need to have a serious talk about privacy."

The others came to stand beside me, and Wolfgang put a hand on my shoulder.

Wolfgang: “She is your soulbond, Seth. She will return to you, and woe be to anything that stands in her way.”

Xenna smiled at Wolfgang before taking a serious expression with me.

Xenna: “You can’t lose faith, even when things look hopeless. She certainly never did.”

I remembered the ethereal, fragile piece of her life she’d shared with me that day in Aria. Maeve was so consistently playful and sweet around me that I’d never taken the time to consider the reality of what she’d endured, the nightmare she’d actually had to live through every single waking day of her life. 

I tried to fathom the depths of the despair she’d known in the madness of the cults, or how she could have possibly found the strength to continue even at her lowest lows, to endure another day, and another, and another. I couldn’t fathom it, though, because I would never know anything like it. But Maeve did know those depths, and she did find that strength. And that was enough.

I watched as the minigun finished revving, and as it filled her with bullet holes. I watched her descent, reminiscent of an angel cast from paradise. And I never stopped believing that she would choose to continue, even now, when it couldn’t possibly be a choice anymore.

A darkness like the void itself engulfed her as she fell. It coalesced into a black pit as deep as the abyss where she landed, and took her in. Then she emerged clad in a new form, like Bedlam’s approximation of a valkyrie, with wings of bloody flesh. Aberrant, frenzied eyes and maws opened themselves all across her skin, and the tendrils of black blood that erupted from her body were as plentiful as the bullets that had failed to kill her. 

Maeve’s new wings carried her up to eye level with the queen. Dajjal jumped back in pure panic, putting as much distance between herself and the living nightmare confronting her as possible before unloading the Cenotaph armor’s entire arsenal.

Maeve’s tendrils whipped around her at impossible speeds as she withstood the onslaught of bullets, lasers, and missiles. A chorus of alien screams and taunting whispers followed the sound of bullets ripping through flesh and the thunder of explosions. Then in a blur Maeve flew from the smoke right onto the war machine’s shoulders, ripping the turrets out with what remained of her inhuman limbs. She then dropped down, tying her tendrils around the machine’s legs as she darted through them and, with impossible strength, brought the whole machine crashing down. 

When we regained our senses, we ran to the fallen behemoth. Maeve was gibbering and rabid, testing the integrity of every square inch of the queen’s armor, who inside was sobbing for forgiveness. Zyturak waved his hand at Maeve but recoiled, nearly biting his tongue as he fell to his knees. 

Zyturak: “I can do nothing. Go-”

But I was already on my way. 

I sprinted to her side, pulling her into an embrace that, honestly, could take some getting used to. I ignored the voices and eyes of Bedlam, focusing entirely on the woman I wanted more than anything to know and love. Tears streaked my face at this physical evidence of all her suffering, and for the little girl who should have never needed to grow such a monster inside of herself.

I felt coagulating blood trickle down my legs as her failing tendrils reflexively wrapped around my torso, squeezing desperately as they lifted me off my feet. I tried to choke my reassurances out through the tiny breaths I managed to coax from my lungs.

Seth: “It’s over, Maeve... That nightmare… is over now…”

I fell onto my back and was left gasping for air, which was not helped when Maeve threw herself on top of me, most of her weight pushing against my chest.

Maeve: “Oh, oh God! Are you okay? Please be okay!!”

I pointed to the sky, and thankfully she got the hint.

She knelt down beside me, and I took a few seconds for my lungs. When my breathing slowed, I looked at her. Aside from all the dried blood, no sign remained of her wounds, or the ‘gifts’ that had helped her survive them. In spite of it all, I had to laugh with relief.

Seth: “I love your hugs, Maeve, but that last one was a bit much…”

She leaned her forehead on mine, gentle sobs rocking her body.

Maeve: “How can you joke like that after everything that just happened? How can you be so understanding…?”

Seth: “Understanding? I don’t understand even a percent of what just happened, but…”

I took hold of her hands and stared as deeply into her eyes as I had when I’d looked into her soul for the first time.

Seth: “This is what I understand; I want to know you - all of you. The inside, the outside... and yes, even the inside out.”

Maeve answered my oath with a passionate, desperate kiss. We were soon interrupted by a loud banging coming from inside the fallen juggernaut.

We all surrounded the cockpit and helped pull it open. The queen recoiled, but when she realized she wasn’t about to be ripped to shreds, she held up The Key like a flag of surrender.

Queen Dajjal: “Take it, by Yreth take it! Just keep that monstrous thing the hell away from me!”

Maeve flinched. I took her hand.

Seth: “That thing will never be half the monster you are. Did you ever think your people started to resent you because you resented them first? What kind of ruler would even consider replacing her people with mindless slaves-”

Maeve squeezed my hand in mine.

Maeve: “Forget her, Seth. We’ve wasted enough time here already.”

With that, she led me away. Queen Dajjal was completely unhinged, promising death threats one moment, then pleading us not to leave her alone the next. The others followed Maeve and I without a word to her. Despite our weariness, we collected our camels and our things and rode out of the increasingly riotous city. Our next destination -  the location of the second artifact, The Anchor, awaited us...

We rode for Ptarmigan.

--END OF ACT 1--