Pillars of golden light fell to the ground, announcing dawnfall. I looked up, cool water dripping down my face, and I couldn’t help feeling awe at the sight. It was still dark—just not pitch-black—the only areas illuminated by the morning sun were those the columns of brightness struck, giving the impression that angels or something of that nature was descending from the heavens.

I peeled my gaze away from the fields, staring ahead. The river water sparkled in the distance, a beam of light sparking its crystalline surface alit. In front of me, however, it was dark—almost murky in the shade of Akrit. “Curious,” I mumbled, stepping out of the river, and shaking off droplets from my body. 

The cold seeped into my skin. I welcomed it, taking long and powerful strides to Ylrenci’s house. The door was cracked open, so I didn’t have to knock.

Astrette was brewing tea in the kitchen, humming to herself. She turned, practically swirling as her melody got more erratic, then started, finally taking notice of my presence. “Ren?” she said, eyes growing wide as she took in my naked form. She flushed furiously, her cheeks bright red. “Why are you in your underwear!”

“Shouldn’t your first question as my nurse be, ‘Have you healed properly’?” I asked, cocking a brow in amusement.

“Oh, I…you have,” she said, seeming glad. Her poise somewhat returned, she regarded me deeply, prodding my chest reservedly with the spoon she’d been using. It was warm to the touch. “Any exhaustion? Limbs feeling awkward; like they aren’t yours?”

“…That can happen?”

“Yes,” Astrette said crisply, turning to the steaming tea. She took a small sip, grabbing a piece of bread, raising a brow. “Well?”

I shook my head. “No. Nothing like that. In fact, I feel…well, stronger.”

She nodded, a proud expression on her face. “Good. That means my master’s Crypt Script was perfect.” She beamed, grabbing my arm. “You’re healed. So no more brooding, alright? You can be you again!”

‘Me again..?’ I thought, smiling sheepishly. Did she really know the implications of those words? Of course not. But she’d know by the end of the day. They all would. ‘But no. Observe.’

Dammit. My impulses were getting harder and harder to control. 

Astrette shivered, spilling some of the hot tea on the ground. Her body trembled gently.

“Are you—” I said, reaching for her shoulder.

“Don’t!” she screamed, jolting back. “Just no.” She froze, as if just realizing some gross error. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Be disgusted?” I finished, leaning back on the wall, feigning nonchalance. “What was it you said before? Right, I should try not to be so creepy around young ladies? I try, but sometimes a ‘perverse’ thought does slip through.” 

Astrette steadied her hand, taking a long sip. “Right,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. “I’m to be betrothed as pure as I stand before you… See that your lewd Intent doesn’t defile my halo.”

Rolling my eyes, I moved to sit at the dinner table. “Are you implying a mere touch from one so lustful as me is enough to shatter your chastity?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing. “With that Intent… I’m surprised you haven’t—”

“Impregnated several good women with his presence,” Ylrenci finished this time, emerging from her room. She yawned, pulling a seat for herself. She looked god-awful, clearly suffering from a horrendous hangover. “Tea please, Astre.”

“I only made the O’manl variety,” Astrette said, preparing a cup for the woman. She took a whiff of the warm vapor that wafted from the kettle. “Though it has a spicy tang to it.”

Ylrenci groaned softly, nodding. She cracked an eye in my direction. “Great!” she said, exhaustion washing away from her face as she grinned. “When do you depart?”

I blinked, letting out a long-winded sigh. “In three days, I leave for Ahran.” My lips curled up, noticing Ylrenci’s frown. “If you’re willing to have me ‘till then.”

“We’ve suffered your company for so long already,” Ylrenci murmured, gratefully taking a large mug of tea from Astrette. She took a sip, then scowled. “Delicious, Astre. That tang? Just wonderful. Reminds me of the oily, filth-crusted armpits of those barbarians you’re so fond of.”

Astrette simply smiled, reaching for the ledger placed next to the jar of sugar. “Those barbarians,” she said, glancing at me, scribbling away. “Are our ancient ancestors. The Living Blueprints of Man. I mean, would you spit in the face of Granny Jhayil?”

“Bah,” her master said, smiling. She stirred her tea, eyes distant, staring at something only she could see. “I would. But in return, she’d chew my fingers and spit them back in my face, stubborn old bat.”

The guest room door opened, disturbing their reminiscing. Evio walked over, groggy. He scratched a head of mussy auburn hair. “Mornin’ everyone,” he said, shuffling on weak feet. Our eyes met, and his vibrant emerald eyes twinkled. “You’ve healed? Congratulations! That means I’ll be healthy again soon, too, yeah?”

Ylrenci barked a laugh at that, spraying tea on the tabletop. “It’ll three more weeks at best for you, brat.” She wiped her spittle away with a swift swipe, using the long sleeves around her arms to polish the table. 

“Oh,” he said, accepting tea from our nurse. She rubbed his back fondly, helping him sit.

“That’s not very nice, Master,” Astrette said, pointedly staring at the older lady. The woman shrugged. “It won’t be long.”

I yawned, standing to get myself something to wear... I paused, realizing all the clothes donated to me by the village men were in dire need of a washing. “Astrette. The clothes I was wearing when you found me… Do you still have them?”

Astrette looked lost for a moment, then her face brightened. She stood, practically skipping into her room and returning with a bundle of clothes a few moments later. “Here,” she said, reverently handing me the clothes.

I unfolded them silently, not sure how to respond to her sudden enthusiasm regarding my clothes. It was the opposite, usually. The trousers were the least damaged during the fight, though it seemed someone took the liberty of patching the few tears… I didn’t have the same hope for my cloak…not after… ‘Huh?’

I held up the black article of clothing, baffled. It wasn’t missing a single thread. I flipped it around, looking for holes. Nothing. Not even a scratch on the leather. It looked brand new. 

Looking up, I noticed a glint in Astrette’s eyes and an even brighter one in Ylrenci’s. Those black pairs of eyes shouldn’t have been able to reveal so much passion within a person. “…Yes?”

“Well,” Ylrenci said, feigning disinterest. She sipped on her tea. “I—”

“The glyph—no archglyph—stitched into your coat,” Astrette exploded, unable to contain her excitement. She gripped my arm, eyes blazing. “Do you remember who composed it? It’s the first time I’ve seen something so complex that isn’t Recorded.”

‘Of course, I do,’ I thought, regaled, pulling away from her to put on a tethered vest and shirt. ‘It was God.’ “Ah…no, no I don’t.”

Her excitement died instantly, as if she just remembered my supposed amnesia. “Do you at least remember… what the Glyphgear does?” 

I shook my head. “I have no clue—well, except it can fix itself, apparently.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Astrette groaned, her master nodding in agreement.

“Sorry,” I said earnestly, patting her head. She pursed her lips disapprovingly, and I snapped my hand back. “My apologies.” A chuckle. “If you all would excuse me, I’ll be heading off to Darson to tell him the good news.”

As I stepped out the door, I heard Evio ask, “That coat’s Glyphgear?”

* * *

Astrette sighed in bliss, throwing herself on her bed. She was exhausted, her feet throbbing. Walking hours out in the fields, scavenging for herbs, did not do well for her poor feet. She hissed softly, dragging herself to the drawer, and removing a small metal container. 

She squeezed her eyes closed, snorting a pinch of the black powder within it. It flared up her nostrils, triggering a pounding, skull-splitting headache. Astrette blinked away her tears of pain.

Dammit! Every divine record would show how much she hated taking the stuff. Her head fell back to her pillow, the very motion triggering world-lurching vertigo.

She lay there, practically immobile, staring at the wooden ceiling. Ren hadn’t been back for two days. She knew he’d been binge drinking at the pub, celebrating his health with Darson but two full days? ‘…Did we offend him by asking about the archglyph?’ she thought, frowning at herself. 

The fact that she’d already convinced herself the symbol was an archglyph was a bit…well, blasphemous, illogical, and concerning. But she’d seen the shape. It almost shifted when she looked at it too long, the geometry spinning clockwise and anticlockwise at the same time. The symmetry was refined, inhumanly so. It… it…was the single most perfect glyph she’d bore witness to.

Astrette grew pale, the glyph popping into her head, spiraling in her mind’s eye. Her stomach upturned, nausea overtaking her for a fleeting moment. ‘How did Master get addicted to this foul stuff?’ she thought, swallowing the bile that crawled up her throat, her headache calming to a soft pounding in her eyes. 

 

She stood, slowly shuffling to the kitchen, fixing herself a glass of water. “Ren, right,” she mumbled to herself, washing away the bitter taste in her mouth. He wasn’t mad at them, was he? But no. She’d a grasp on the odd man’s personality, and was certain he wasn’t that petty…

So…was it her blatant—sometimes outrightly rude—deflections of his courting? That couldn’t be helped, his intentions were a bit too intense. And that was putting it lightly, considering she could feel his Intent pricked against her skin despite snorting three lines worth of hailzsh every day.

Astrette gently swished water in her mouth, swallowing. She sniffed, walking out. Regardless of why he was acting strangely, it’d be better for her to speak to him before he left tomorrow. He lost his memories, but that man was an Infernal… she was certain of it. ‘I need him.’

When she reached the pub, she realized Ren wasn’t one of the patrons this afternoon. She glanced around, spotting Yuri—the bartender—and walked over, ignoring the boisterous drunks. Peiro’s was never a quiet place. “Yuri?” she called. “A minute?”

The young woman turned to her, smiling. She had an oval face and a coy grin permanently plastered on her face, as if she knew some succulent secret. “Ah, Astre,” Yuri said, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing. She poured her a small mug of ale.“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“You’ve been expecting me?” Astrette asked, taking the mug. She drank the pungent stuff, letting her gaze sift the small establishment again. It was dim, faint yellow light spilling in from outside. 

Yuri smiled in that all-knowing way of hers. “Of course,” she said, grabbing a mug from the shelf and polishing it. “Sooner or later, you were to come looking for your boyfriend, no? But, my. If I’d excess to the Records, I would’ve warned you about coming an hour late.”

“I’m his nurse! Not his woman,” Astrette proclaimed, glaring at her friend. She bit the rim of her mug, blushing. Then hissed, “Stop these spreading rumors…”

“What rumors?” she asked with a laugh, clearly amused by her violent reaction.

Astrette calmed herself, drawing her lips into a thin line. “Where’d he go?”

The barmaid shrugged. “I think they said something about going to eat a feast Catherine prepared for ‘em,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “Then stumbled on their way.” Under her breath, she mumbled in a nearly-inaudible whisper, “Wonder if the Records show why he stays around that scum.”

Finishing her ale, Astrette left. She warned Yuri about the rumors one more time, the woman waving her away, cackling to herself. She shaded her face with her hand; eyes adjusting to the late afternoon sunlight.

Astrette took a step in the direction of Darson’s house, then froze, her feet rooting to the ground. She heard a crack vibrate through the air, followed by another. Then another. Three more after that. She shivered; trembling uncontrollably. It was that feeling. The one that shot up her spine whenever she remembered.

The air went stale, pungent with the smell of blood. She gagged, sprinting. This feeling… Astrette jumped back, noticing the red mist that wafted around the corner of a hut, filling the street as a cloud of crimson mist. Feet growing weak, she fell. 

She heard metal scrape against metal, heavy stomps against the earth. Two meter-tall silhouettes moved within the bloody fog. Her legs gained a sudden strength as something gripped her arms and she stood, turning towards the man. She reached for the knife strapped to her waist, swiping it against the air, slicing his face.

The figure—Halid she realized with a gut-twisting horror—cursed, screaming at her. She couldn’t hear what he said, her ears pounding. Here stood one of the men that ruined her; destroyed her entire world. Her voice broke in her throat as she lunged at him. Never. Again.

Red mist enveloped everything.

Astrette’s dagger dug into the man’s neck, cutting open his throat. Blood gushed out the wound in spurts, Halid’s grey eyes widening in shock, unbelieving. He fell to the ground, legs failing him. She raised her blade, stabbing him in the back repeatedly. 

Her arm grew numb after a few minutes, and she stepped back. The gravity of what she’d done kicking in, her mind growing blank. She stood there, towering over his corpse. The scent of his gore should’ve filled her with elation… but it didn’t. She felt hollow, sensing a greater evil ahead.

Astrette moved, her feet carrying her to a predetermined destination. She jumped at the sound of armor but her steps were firm. She just knew he was there. ‘Just as I did with Hali—’

Spectre’s figure stood mere feet away from her, almost elusive in the mist. Tall and spindly yet exuding a powerful aura. In his left hand, he coiled pale fingers around her master’s neck. Ylrenci was unmoving. Dead.

All went still.

She couldn’t think, her body simply erupted into a dash. 

Spectre smiled, glancing toward her, then frown. Astrette saw his lips move but her mind couldn’t register the words. She lunged at him, barreling forward, dagger raised high. 

It found purchase in his gut, and he winced. What happened next overwhelmed her senses, a deep pain exploding from the pits of her stomach. 

Spectre glowered, plunging another fist into her liver. Light burst in the back of her eyes and she slumped to the ground, vision swimming before going black.