Alleria (Completed)

by EinatSegal

"Shall I tell you a secret, Alleria, as to why you make me so hot I want to lose
control?" He leaned in close. She stiffened, she could feel his breath on her
cheek. "When I look into your eyes, I know where you've been, I know what you saw
that night in the forest. I know what you are now."

Scholars rule the empire and Alleria, an uncanny teenage genius, is about to
become the youngest Scholar in history. Some loathe her for her gender, class and
age, while others fear what she will become when she grows too wise to be
controlled.

And there's one strange boy who knows her secret - a boy who whispers about demons
in the shadows and the haunting melody that comes with them.

Stepping up to stand among the sharks and snakes of the patriarchal imperial
politics, Alleria sets her heart on solving the world's greatest mathematical
problem - and perhaps also its greatest crisis. The path she chooses will either
make her the most successful woman in the empire - or lead her to her own demise -
or both

**#1 in Fantasy**
PREVIOUSLY TITLED "HER DEMONS"
Cover by my dearest @seventhstar

=================

Chapter 1 - The Wrong Boy

ABOUT THIS DRAFT

Dearest readers,

Welcome to the second draft of Alleria!

We're getting slightly better, but it's still a bit messy. I'm self-editing it all,
and self-editing is a bit like soul-searching. At this point, the mistakes and
weaknesses of the manuscript aren't as clearly evident on the surface and I have to
go deeply and examine every little corner to find where the story is lacking.

There will still be mistakes, possibly even many of them. Feel free to point them
out, whether they're plot discrepancies, grammar mistakes or amusing typos. I
likely won't make corrections right away, but later, when I edit the book again, I
will give them close thought and attention.

Don't be afraid to criticise me in any way you want. I know you're all lovely
people, I want to hear your thoughts and my feelings are durable, I don't get
easily insulted. I may not agree with everything, but I will still love to hear you
no matter what. You don't have to sugarcoat for me.

Thank you for your patience and I hope you have a lovely read!

Love,

Einaty
***

Chapter 1 - The Wrong Boy

The expensive shoes were hard to move in and pinched her feet, though luckily Mam
was too anxious and helped Alleria down from their flat to the courtyard where a
sleek black car was waiting. An elegantly dressed man with white gloves and gold
thread lining the collar and cuffs of his jacket opened the back door for Alleria.
She gingerly slid onto the fragrant leather seats, collecting her skirt in such

a way that it wouldn't wrinkle.

Feeling worried and self-conscious about the place she was going to and the
situation she was in, she watched as the well-dressed man plopped into the driver's
seat, shutting the door. His white gloved hands turned the steering wheel, and her
new city home slipped away as Callivar's narrow, cobbled streets bathed in yellow
lamplight opened up before them.

The drive wasn't long, but it was long enough for thoughts to race through her mind
in a rapid procession. Alleria always had too many thoughts to think, now more than
ever. Tonight was special, for she was going to meet her patron and benefactor, Mr.
Malluri, for the very first time, and also be presented before his friends and
colleagues as his protégé.

Mr. Malluri's street was wide and beautiful, the two lanes separated by a boulevard
of tall white-trunked aspen trees. The car stopped before a high, black, wrought
iron gate that was opened electronically to admit their entrance. The inner
courtyard was paved with grey brick and had a marble fountain right in the centre,
around which the car turned in a half-circle and stopped so that Alleria's door was
aligned with broad, white marble stairwell. She looked up at the building that
loomed before her. Was all this Mr. Malluri's house? It seemed big enough to be a
palace. Why would anyone need so many rooms?

Alleria was not used to these men and women who held fortune and fame at the palm
of their hands. But she was curious to know how one lived, how one looked, how one
spoke when one had everything there was to have in this world.

An

attendant dressed in a similar fashion to the driver opened Alleria's door and
offered her a gloved hand. Once she was safely out of the car the attendant bowed
and retreated.

"Miss Bellencreek." A boy, not much older than Alleria, trotted down the stairs and
bowed to her, offering her his arm, "Right this way, father is eager to finally
meet you."

Father? So this was the son Mr Malluri mentioned in his letters. She took the
offered arm and allowed him to lead her up the stairs and through a grand doorway.
It was a good thing he was there, her shoes were impossible for walking in the
ordinary way that people walked. She eyed his profile as they stepped through a
spacious high-ceilinged foyer and up another stairway. He was taller than her by a
head at least and had longish yellow hair and an upturned nose. His features were
pleasant enough to be considered handsome, but something about him was not quite
right. "Are you Willum?" Alleira asked, forgetting her manners.

"No, I'm Cassel."

She tried to recall mention of such a name in Mr. Malluri's letters but was certain
that there was only one Malluri boy and no other children.

Cassel sensed her confusion and smirked. "I'm Malluri's second wife's son from her
previous marriage. Rich people never settle with just one marriage for a lifetime,
it's out of fashion. Actually, Willum was supposed to come and get you, but he
couldn't be bothered so I went instead."

"Couldn't be bothered?" Alleria asked softly. She knew that Willum was only three
years older than her. She had been curious to meet him, but now she wondered why
Cassel

chose to share this information with her and why Mr. Malluri had never told her
about him.

"Well, I wanted to meet you and Willum doesn't care much about anything, so he let
me."

"Why'd you want to meet me?"

He laughed at her question, "You really are from the countryside. I think the dress
mother chose for you suits you perfectly."

Alleria actually thought that the light blue, silk dress didn't suit her at all and
was quite childish. The bodice was a tight fit and the skirt was short and pleated.
The shoulders were puffed and the rest of the sleeve was intricate lace. She had
only a white fur vest for warmth and white silky stockings that came up to her
knees. She felt somewhat ridiculous but Mr. Quillic, the beautician that had come
to her home to bully her wavy brown hair into springy curls and arrange her make-
up, had explained everything: "It's the image Malluri wishes to portray, the
innocent genius child. Society is like a stage, darling, you must simply act the
role according to the script."

Something about Cassel's stare was making Alleria uncomfortable. She had to fight
the urge to pull her hand out of the crook of his arm and glare. "What's that
supposed to mean?"

"It means whatever it means," Cassel said, flashing her with a white smile."I'm
glad you're cute and sweet, miss Alleria. Otherwise it would've been a pain."

Alleria knew village boys who flirted and joked as well as those who were serious
and disliked girls. This city boy, however, whatever he was doing seemed to her
poisonous and disturbing. Even though he spoke compliments, it was almost as if he
hated her. She halted mid-step and took her arm away, regarding him with a scalding
expression.

He laughed at her, "I see." He nodded his head. "So a genius girl is still a girl."

"Of course, obviously, I'm a girl. What else would I be?"

He continued to laugh, then grabbed Alleria by both her shoulders and planted a big
wet kiss on her cheek. It was not the first kiss she had received from a boy in her
life, but this kiss was not the romantic sort she shared with Bran under the hedge
behind the chapel. It was the annoying sort, the disgusting sort. She took off her
lace glove and wiped her cheek furiously.

"I'll see you later, Alleria," he said with an impish smile still on his face and
sauntered away down a different corridor.
A/N - Will start posting things from the third draft of Alleria from here. I'll
mark the revised chapters with an Author's Note.

=================

Chapter 2 - Mr. Malluri

A/N - Dedicated to seventhstar for making me fall off my feet AGAIN with yet
another breathtaking cover.

Chapter 2 - Mr. Malluri

"Wait," Alleria called after Cassel irritably, "where am I supposed to - "

Someone coughed to get her attention, another boy, this one even taller and
noticeably thin with sleek black hair, silver-rimmed glasses and a bored
expression. "This way, please," he said dryly. Alleria looked at him but chose not
to make conversation. So this was the real Wiilum, she hoped that his father wasn't
anything like him.

"Father wants to meet you in his study before the party," Willum explained calmly,
as if he had been her escort the entire time and the meeting with Cassel had never
even happened. "It's the first time he's made an investment in a person."

"What investments are there that aren't in people?" Alleria asked.

Willum raised his eyebrows, "Buildings, paintings, gold, land..."

"The buildings are bought or rented by people, the paintings are appreciated by
people, gold is just a rock without people's interest in it and the land has to be
developed by people to be a worthy investment. Everything's that's sold and bought
requires human interest for it to have any value." She glanced at him from the
corner of her eye, "Don't you think all investments are in people? If it wasn't for
people, there wouldn't be money in this world."

"Still, this is different."

"I know, but wasn't that the answer you were

expecting?"

He didn't even attempt to reply.

They stopped before a double wooden door, Willum knocked and then opened the door
for Alleria to enter, closing it behind her.

"Miss Bellencreek!" A tall, thin, silver-haired man leapt to his feet the moment
the door closed. "It's nice to finally meet you." Mr. Malluri had sparkling grey
eyes and a thin moustache. He extended his hand to her and when she took it his
handshake was so powerful she felt like her arm would be torn out of its socket.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Malluri," Alleria said.

"Come, there is someone else you should meet," he led her into his study where a
fat, bald man with round glasses rose to shake her hand as well and introduce
himself as Mr. Minsuit. Alleria could feel the dampness of his sweaty palm through
her lace glove.

"Minsuit is our family solicitor and also investment advisor," Malluri explained.
"He pushed me into making this... endeavour. You see, it was high time I attempted
my hand at this sort of thing. Oh, have a seat please, we'll discuss the details
with you."

Alleria gingerly sat in the chair Mr. Malluri directed her to and put her palms
neatly in her lap like Mam told her to do - thank goodness for Mam's instructions
at times like these. She took extra care not to smear Minsuit's sweat on her dress.

"So, as you've probably noticed, there are only six more months till the exams for
the High Academy." Mr. Malluri chuckled. He had a strange kind of chuckle that
didn't sound like real laughter - it was like he uttered 'haha' rather than
actually laughed.

"As I've mentioned in my letter, I have entered you into a seminary that will
assist with your studies. Though a few people have already pointed out to me,
because I am your patron, you will be representing me wherever you go. For that we
must arrange for you to attend some etiquette classes as well as proper wardrobe
and so forth. You see, your mission is not only to get as far with your studies as
you can, but also present yourself to society in a way that will be appealing to my
image..." Mr. Malluri went cross-eyed for a moment and he turned to Minsuit. "Was
that all I needed to tell her?"

"Yes sir. Do you have any questions, Miss Bellencreek?"

"How should I go about presenting myself to society, sir?"

"Haha, as expected of a prodigy, she asks the right questions, doesn't she
Minsuit?" Mr. Malluri cleared his throat. "What you need to do is obtain a fixed
character that will be both interesting and unthreatening to everyone you meet. My
wife's idea was to build on your youth. As you well know, normally people attending
the High Academy are twenty or even thirty years your elders. So we will be
presenting you as a pure, innocent yet brilliant child. It would be wonderful if
you would be seen as a little angel filled with wonder."

"I can try that," Alleria said with a shrug, "but I don't look very innocent, is
what everyone tells me. And I can't get rid of my dialect either." She was a
relatively tall girl, and her face was narrow and thin, her nose slightly hooked
and sharp - she had always looked older rather than younger.

Mr. Malluri nodded thoughtfully as if this was all a philosophical debate, "Yes,
you may have a point," he said, rubbing his chin. "Your mother also explained to us
that you find social situations with adults... difficult?"

"Yes, that's right, Mr. Malluri."

"Well, maybe the combination of this and that will have a good effect." He
scratched the back of his head, "This is really why I've never done this sort of
thing before, there's no knowing where it will go."

"We should just wait and see, sir," Minsuit advised.

"The guests will have arrived already, we best make our way to the dinning hall,
Willum will be your escort for this evening, Miss Bellencreek. You can rely on
him."

A/N - This chapter has been cut short due to being from the third draft (the novel
chapters don't correspond well with the Wattpad chapters, so sorry about the
inconvenience this may have caused!)

=================

Chapter 3 - Bad Cassel

Author's Note: If you're enjoying this story thus far, don't forget to vote or even
tell me how you feel with a comment. Thank you for your dedicated readership!

***

Chapter 3 - Bad Cassel

The dinning hall was grand and there were far too many guests for it to ever be
considered a small dinner party. Willum led Alleria to sit at the high table and
made sure she had a glass of juice in her hand. These rich people, for all their
fine clothes and manners seemed awfully rude to Alleria. The way their gazes
followed her, the way they whispered among themselves behind their fancy gloves
seemed very low behaviour.

But she ought to become accustomed to this. From the moment money had been placed
upon her head, from the moment she had been bought, she had stopped being a person
and had become a thing. It isn't considered gossip if what you talk about is a very
expensive ceramic vase.

A lady in a bright green evening dress and with a head of golden locks took the
seat on Alleria's left and placed her hand on her shoulder. That upturned nose -
wasn't this Cassel's mother? "You're doing well," she whispered softly in Alleria's
ear. "Be ready, soon Aresso will present you to them, and then they'll talk to
you."

No sooner did she finish the sentence than Malluri tapped his wineglass with his
fork. "My friends and colleagues, I present to you today a very special guest. She
came all the way from Hegdery Prefecture, this young lady is about to become the
youngest scholar to study in the High Academy in all the history of our fine
empire.

Please meet Miss Alleria Bellencreek."

"- Oh how adorable."

"-She really does look young."

"- I imagined a prodigy to look brighter."

"- Oh, from the countryside, how quaint!"

"Nice to meet you Miss Bellencreek," said a woman wearing a long hot-pink evening
dress decorated with a plume of black feathers and showing off the entirety of her
back. "I'm Simola Luvaric."

"Nice to meet you, Simola Luvaric." Alleria answered mechanically.

"How old are you, dear girl?" asked a middle-aged man next to Simola Luvaric.

"I'm fifteen and one half, sir."

"So you like studying?" asked an elderly woman with snowy locks.

"Yes ma'am."

"What sort of things do you study, my dear?" Simola Luvarc stole the conversation
back her way.

"Currently I'm studying the subjects required for the High Academy attendance
Exams."

"I heard it takes years to study for and is very nearly impossible to get in."

"Only one in a million get in, is what I hear."

"And it's all the finest minds in the empire too."

"But how do the Exams work?" asked a bosomy woman in a pink frock standing next to
a very short auburn haired man. "What's it like?"

"There are five Exam days and in each day there is one question asked," Alleria
explained. "Depending on the question, examinees are required to a present a
coherent thesis. Though any claims that are made must be supported using previous
studies and all material that is quoted or cited must be done from memory alone."

"You mean to say," said an elderly, pot-bellied gentleman in a tailored suit, "that
you're

required to commit everything you study to memory so you could blindly use it for
your thesis or what-not during the exam?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you have to do this five times?"

"Five different essays, sir."

"My God."

"And what subjects are required to enter, Miss Alleria?"

Alleria drew in a deep breath. "The five sciences; alchemy, astronomy, mathematics,
electronics and biology. The four humanities; philosophy, philology, the arts and
music. And the two studies of society, law and economics."

Alleria's audience for a moment was shocked into silence. Finally someone whistled,
an unexpectedly crude sound in the midst of polite frocks.

"Well, that's... isn't that every single subject in existence?"

"No," Alleria replied, "that doesn't include artisan studies like carpentry and
pottery, or studies of the occult, the arcane and the demon world."

"What a frightening child..." someone Alleria couldn't see whispered loud enough
for her to hear. It was followed by more little of whispers sounding like crickets
that she wished only to ignore.

"...This is what the Bureaucracy has come to..."

"...Seems like some kind of sick joke..."

"...No wonder the Calendrical Algorithm always fails..."

Alleria lowered her eyes and looked at the white tablecloth. When she lifted them
again, her mind was wandering elsewhere and even she couldn't follow her own
fluttering thoughts. Maybe she was in Granny Na's cottage, maybe by the pond. Maybe
in the village square, maybe at the house of one of her friends. Maybe

in her room, with her books, reading to the light of her desk lamp into the night.
It wasn't that she disliked people, or that she found them difficult - that's what
everyone thought but it wasn't the truth.

It was people who found her difficult, and because of that, they all became the
same, one creature with many heads. Every single one of them eternally boring to
her with their flat homogeneity and their repetitive conversation. Every question
that was asked met an appropriate answer that evening, several courses of food were
served and eaten, or at least nibbled upon. For dessert everyone was moved into the
lounge, to sip sherry and eat apple pies.

"How bored are you from one to ten?" a voice whispered in her ear.

"Probably ten thousand, one hundred and ten, squared," Alleria answered
automatically without noticing who she was talking with.

"Behind that tapestry there's a hidden door, in three minutes I'm going to leave it
open. Make sure no one is watching you and slip outside."

Alleria angled her head to look at Cassel. He wasn't her favourite person, but his
company would certainly be better than this. Everyone had had their share of
talking with her - now they contented themselves with talking about her. Whether
she was in the room or not was of no importance. After he was gone, she began
edging towards the tapestry, she was air, non-existent, a potted plant or a very
expensive statue.

She quickly slipped behind the tapestry and plunged into a small dark opening in
the wall. A door was shut when she was inside by an invisible hand in the darkness,
another hand wrapped itself

around hers. "Come on," Cassel's voice said.

"Where are we going?" Alleria asked.

"What do you prefer, the garden - or straight to my room?"

"There's a garden?"

"My room is warmer."

"I don't mind the cold."

He snickered. She felt relieved to be out of the party for now, and although Cassel
was a strange boy with his coarse city mannerisms, he was easier to deal with than
a bunch of rich people with inflated egos. They passed through a maze of narrow
corridors that at some point led them by the busy kitchen and finally came out into
a small walled garden with an artificial stream that flowed into a small, square
pool. "There's a bigger garden down there, but they don't bother to light it up in
the winter so you'll just fall and ruin your pretty dress if we go there."

"I think you'll be the one to fall and tear your precious clothes."

He chortled and took out a packet of cigarettes, taking one for himself and then
offering it to Alleria.

"I don't smoke," she replied.

"You gotta live once, Miss Prodigy. Probably no one ever offered you any that's why
you've never tried it."

"Do you think in the countryside people don't smoke?"

"I think you lived a sheltered life."

"I tried it once and it made me vomit."

He lit his cigarette and began making smoke rings into the night air, "That's
nasty."

"So are you."

That made him laugh. He leaned towards her, his face wearing an expression which
she couldn't decide whether it was amiable or mocking. "Say, Alleria?"

"What?"

"Want to be my girlfriend?"

"No."

Everything she said seemed to make

him laugh, even her rejection. "Why not?"

"Because I don't like you."

"Ouch, so harsh."
Alleria snorted and took a step away from him. "So you're playing the rebellious
type? You don't like your new dad so you're trying to sabotage his investments?"

"It's not that." He took another step towards her, "Smart girls make me horny."

"Ugh, you're just a womaniser. My bad." She began walking towards a nearby bench
that overlooked the little pool, trying to keep him in at a distance she was
comfortable with.

"I bet you never had a boyfriend."

"I did."

"A good little village boy? Did you kiss behind the church?"

He nailed it. Bran had indeed been a good boy with warm brown eyes like freshly
turned soil. Alleria felt her face redden and turned her head away to hide it. He
saw it in an instant and howled with laughter, "That's perfect," he said between
bouts of mirth, "that's absolutely hilarious. I don't know how Malluri found you,
but you're going to be mine."

She smirked, sitting down on the bench.

"I'm going to be an advisor to the emperor," she said calmly. "Sorry, but I can't
fit becoming yours in my schedule for the next..." She paused, calculating,
"Hundred years."

"What about tonight?" he asked, sitting on the bench next to her, "what about right
now?" He leaned towards her and she leaned away. He grasped both her wrists and
pulled her to him. "Shall I tell you a secret, Alleria, as to why you make me so
hot I want to lose control?" He leaned in close, she stiffened, she could feel his
breath on her cheek. "When I look into your eyes, I know where you've been, I know
what you saw that night in the forest. I know what you are now."

Alleria's eyes widened and all the energy left her body. He knew about her demon?
He knew she had been spirited away? He pulled her toward him, planting soft kisses
on her neck and collarbone while his hands roamed down her back.

She bodily pushed him away and rose off the bench, "What do you mean, you know what
I am now?" she demanded.

He grinned and put his finger to his lips, "It's a secret. I'll consider telling
you if you give me your everything and become my lover."

She narrowed her eyes, she refused to believe that he knew - why would he even
know? He was probably just toying with her. "I'm only fifteen and you're
disgusting," she said and turned to leave.

He laughed and then whispered, "Demon-bait."

"Alleria, what are you doing out here?" Willum was standing right in front of her,
when had he come here? Did he hear their conversation? She stole a glance at the
bench, Cassel had already made a run for it, probably into the bigger, unlit
garden.

She mumbled something about needing fresh air, the rest of the evening passed in a
daze. Finally, near midnight, Willum led her back into the sleek black car that
glided through the sleeping city streets and took her back home.
=================

Chapter 4 - Good Cassel

Chapter 4 - Good Cassel

"I cannot tell you much about the demon-world, it is far beyond our ability to
comprehend. We are born once, we live once, and we die once, but these demons are
eternal beings. Their lives are ruled by things other than mortality," Granny Na
had told Alleria once.

Demons were illegal and dangerous, that was what everyone in the Empire knew and
believed. Just meeting a demon was said to be enough to have one's soul stolen from
them. Therefore, for several years, Alleria had never talked about that night when
she was ten - the night when she was spirited away into the demon world.

There were so many questions which she asked herself over and over again and so
many unsolved riddles trapped within her mind. Children called into the forest
never returned, and yet Alleria survived with no recollection but one. She
remembered a glowing candle-lit figure that was neither man nor woman, it had been
her protector and friend.

It had been a demon, her demon.

Alleria couldn't quite say what led her to confide in Granna, a strange lady who
lived alone on the outskirts of the forest. Perhaps she had recognised something
about her and in the back of her mind had known that the ancient woman had also met
a demon once.

"Do not fear for your soul," Granna had said. "Whoever we meet, and Encounter, no
matter how briefly, no matter how vaguely, even if it's just a glance on the street
- each person that enters our awareness, whether demon or human, receives a sliver
of our soul in exchange for a part of

theirs. Perhaps that demon did take some of your soul, but it has given you some of
whatever it is demons have for souls. Therefore you must see yourself as one whole
girl and completely intact."

Sometimes, Alleria contemplated with some fantastical enjoyment over the fact that
her soul was perhaps part-demon, but these were dangerous thoughts to have. They
were always pushed to the back of her mind.

***

The meeting with Cassel had been disturbing in many ways, yet Alleria soon forgot
about it as she began attending the seminary course and etiquette classes. The
first week passed in a daze. It was clear from the onset that Alleria was an
outsider, as out-of-place as a dragon would be lounging in a pond alongside
flamingos - only Alleria was smaller and with less fire.

There were too many things to take in and get used to, the city was a maze and its
people were a puzzle. Alleria found herself many times feeling like her stomach was
tying in knots with uncomfortable apprehension. She tried to approach it in the
same way she approached any mathematical problem or philosophical debate - using
organised, rational thought - though with other people she never came to a
satisfying solution.

On the end of the first day of the second week, Alleria walked out of the seminary
door only to spot Cassel waiting outside on the bottom of the stairs. She quickly
hid around the corner of the building before he saw her, and watched him leaning
casually against the hand-railing with one hand in his pocket as he smoked a
cigarette. Was he here for her? It was the natural thing to assume, but there was
still

a small chance that he was waiting for someone else. Since women could not attend
most colleges, the majority of those attending the seminary with Alleria were
female. Most didn't have the hope of ever succeeding in the Exams for the High
Academy, but some were bright young women.

She tightened her hold on the handle of her book-bag and straightened her back
before marching forward. Even if he was here for her, she had no intention of being
welcoming. As she began stalking down the stairs, he changed his stance, casually
tossing his burning cigarette aside on the pavement. He fixed her with a meaningful
look.

"Afternoon, miss Alleria," he said wearing a docile expression.

She didn't buy the act. She kept her face blank and passed him by without a word.
She could hear his footsteps as he followed behind her. "You're angry?" he asked.

She didn't answer, wasn't it obvious she didn't want anything to do with him?

"So you are." He didn't sound sarcastic, although maybe she just had trouble
reading the subtleties of his voice. "You've got every right to be, I was a
complete prick." He picked up his pace and walked round her so he could face her.
"Which is why I came today, to apologise."

Alleria had every intention to keep walking. She had never met a less likeable
person. But her upbringing was stronger than she was. Her parents always taught her
that it was only the most brutish people who wouldn't listen to an apology when one
was being offered. She stood and glared at him, trying to make him see that she
would bear with his apology and nothing more.

"I'm

sorry," he said. "I don't know what came over me. I lost my head. I don't have any
real explanation and I'm..." He ruffled his blond hair, making it stand on end. It
was wavy and plentiful, piled on his head with each clump growing in a different
direction.

"You touched me without permission," Alleria said. She didn't intend to speak to
him, but the words just came out. "And it was revolting."

"And I've never been more ashamed of something I've done," he replied, placing a
hand on his heart. He looked and sounded sincere, but she had no doubt it was all
an act. "I'd take it back if I could. I promise never to touch you without
permission again. I only want to be your friend."

"I'll never be friends with you," Alleria snapped and started stalking away. He
continued to follow, trotting at her side.

"Alright, alright, not friends then, but if you could somehow not hate me -"
She stopped again to glare at him. "What do you want? What're you after?"

He pursed his lips together and bent away from her, apparently taken aback by the
ferocity of her gaze. Had she come off too strongly? She turned away, drew a deep
breath and continued walking.

"Look, even if I tell you I'm after nothing and all I want is to be in your good
graces, you won't believe me," he said after a moment of walking in silence.

No, she wouldn't, but she didn't mention that. In fact, she had decided that this
conversation was over.

"At least, let me walk you home."

She kept walking in angry silence. She really couldn't prevent him from following
her all the way home.

"Because," he went on,

"you're going the wrong direction."

***

The next day Cassel was waiting outside again. He spotted Alleria and waved the
moment she exited the seminary. She didn't wave back but merely rolled her eyes and
looked upward at the sky. It was grey and gloomy, promising rain - just like
Alleria's mood.

Bracing her shoulders, she rushed down the stairs and passed Cassel. He didn't say
anything at all and merely fell into step beside her with his hands in his pockets.
They walked the whole way home like this in silence. She wondered what his game
was, but had no intention of initiating conversation.

Finally, when they rounded the corner and entered her street, he cleared his throat
and she turned to him. Her plan had been, of course, not to, but a part of her was
curious to know what he would say.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said with a smile and turned to leave.

"Why are you doing this?"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Because you're special to me."

What was that supposed to mean? Alleria didn't know what to say. Many people talked
about how unique she was, to have such cognitive abilities at such a young age -
but this was different and she hated the fact that she felt slightly touched.

Not that it meant anything, words were still just words. "Is this because what you
said that night? That I'm..." Demon-bait, she couldn't bring herself to say it out
loud.

"I was an idiot that night," was all Cassel said before he waved and walked away.

Alleria watched his retreating back. She felt a mixture of many things which she
couldn't name and found the whole ordeal distracting. That night, as she poured
over her books, she resolved to kindly ask him tomorrow to stop visiting her.

A/N - A little something I cooked up from the second draft. Cassel worming his way
into Alleria's good graces seemed a bit abrupt to me, so hopefully this will smooth
out the edges. Tell me what you think!

=================

Chapter 5 - There Will Be Lies

Chapter 5 - There Will Be Lies

The months to the big exam were rolling by, this feeling of tension, apprehension,
excitement and pleasure seemed like true love to Alleria. One late winter evening
she padded into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. Rubbing her lower back and
yawning, she blinked into the refrigerator, momentarily blinded by its light.

The phone rang in the hallway, but she never bothered with noisy things like
telephones or the radio. She pulled out the milk bottle and ambled to the counter,
taking a glass from the drawer. Mam's voice in the hallway sounded a little bit
excited. Alleria returned the milk to the refrigerator, and holding her glass in
one hand and a banana in the other, turned to go back to her room and her books.

"Alleria!" Mam barged into the kitchen looking ready to explode.

"That's my name," she mumbled, continuing on her way to her room and what she had
been doing. Mam grabbed her by both her skinny shoulders.

"It was Mr. Malluri on the phone, he's on his way here right now - he wants to talk
to you, says it's something exciting."

Alleria turned and blinked at her mother, doing her best to come back to earth. The
information took its moment to register, but when that happened, Alleria jumped
into action. She handed Mam the milk and the banana and ran to her room.

She rummaged through her wardrobe, searching for the best clothes she could find
while she furiously tried to make sense of her hair. In the kitchen Mam and Da were
banging about, trying to make everything look presentable and comely for their
unexpected

guest.

There was a buzz from the door, Alleria hopped out of her room in a green pleated
skirt and a jumper and decided that her hair was her hair and that Mr. Malluri must
learn to cope with it the way it was. Her parents seemed to grimace in the kitchen,
she walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

There was no one there.

"Alleria!" Mam's scolding voice came from the kitchen. "The intercom, dear! God, I
sometimes find it hard to believe you're a genius."

It was hard to remember that they were living in a block of flats. Sheepishly, she
pressed the button on the intercom to open up the gate and continued waiting by the
door, the cold winter air flowing into their warm home.

And there was Mr. Malluri, looking less grand and majestic than he usually did in
his house, but just as tall as always. "Miss Bellencreek," he greeted her, a little
bit out of breath from the climb.
"Mr. Malluri," Alleira said in a dry voice, unsure about how to greet him here in
her house. It was a strange feeling, having worlds collide. "And Willum." she
greeted his tall black-haired son. "Er... please come in."

They walked inside, two tall
of them loitered uncertainly
the kitchen, "Oh do come in,
could produce. "Is that your
in!"
people making the little hallway look tiny. The three
at the entrance to the living room. Mam bustled out of
Mr. Malluri," she said in the best city accent she
son Willum? Oh my, what a handsome boy. Come in, come

Mr. Malluri almost looked embarrassed when he walked into their little living room.
It was as tidy as Mam

and Da managed to make it. "Mr. Malluri," Da greeted him, shaking his hand.

"Do have a seat," Mam cooed. "Hedry and I will get you some tea. Alleria, you sit
as well."

Alleria was surprised to feel a bit shy about their small and messy home. As far as
she knew, the Malluri family had always been rich. She doubted they had ever set
foot in an attic flat in the west of Callivar. It was a good neighbourhood, but not
as good as where Mr. Malluri lived. There were papers scattered on the coffee
table, official documents and things that her father had been reviewing. Alleria
gathered them into a pile and then looked around herself for a place to put them,
but all the available surfaces were occupied by books, ink bottles and pens so she
placed the papers in her lap.

"Your home is so..." Mr. Malluri struggled to find something nice to say, which in
and of itself was a kind effort. Still, Alleria hoped he wouldn't call their flat
'quaint'. She wasn't sure 'quaint' was a nice way to describe anything. "It is
quite bookish," he concluded with some relief. "As expected from a flat owned by
two imperial Hands and a future scholar."

Alleria smiled. While self-centred and pompous, Mr. Malluri honestly meant well.
She refrained from correcting him about the fact that they merely rented the place
and hadn't even owned their little cottage in the countryside. Her smile dimmed
when she realised that etiquette dictated that she say something now. She blinked,
determined to show Mr. Malluri how much her 'manners' had improved. "Thank you, Mr.
Malluri and Willum..." Pause. She needed to say something

more. But what? Panic. "It's... nice of you to... call upon us...?" Her voice
peeked in the very last syllable as if she were asking a question.

"Oh yes, to business!" Mr. Malluri didn't seem to notice her obvious blunder, he
was more than happy to trudge forward. "Your tutors tell me you're working quite
hard so I do hate taking up your time. Haha. Tell me, the seminary, is it
satisfactory?"

"For the most part, it is very satisfactory, sir," Alleria answered. Mam came in
right then bearing a tray with tea and biscuits. She had taken out her fancy tea
set, the white porcelain one with the gold rims and pink flowers. Da had bought it
for Mam for her birthday two months ago. Alleria had never seen her mother look so
pleased, she had always wanted a tea set like this but then after she owned it
there was never an occasion grand enough for its use.

With the soft musical clink and chime of expensive porcelain, Mam placed the tray
on the coffee table and proceeded to pour tea. In her apprehension, she completely
forgot to ask Mr. Malluri how he liked his tea and Alleria had to stop her when she
was about to dump a spoonful of sugar into his cup. Mrs. Malluri had been very
adamant about how much sugar Mr. Malluri took in his tea.

He paid no heed to the silent exchange. It was his blind spot, Alleria knew, he was
incapable of seeing anyone who was serving him and how they went about it. "For the
most part?" he wondered.

"Oh yes, sir, the instruction in almost all of the subjects is highly
professional."

Mr. Malluri's eyebrows shot up and only then did Alleria realise she had probably

said something wrong. "And in which subjects do you find the instruction, er,
lacking?"

Words have weight, Alleria knew this, especially while conversing with someone like
Mr. Malluri who, due to his money, held power in the palm of his hand. The wrong
words spoken to the wrong ears could turn the fate of many. Still, lying was
something Alleria had never had use for in the past and so she was not completely
sure how to do it well without being found out.

She swallowed, and couldn't stop herself from looking at her shoes, "Only... only
mathematics. They are, er, a little behind."

Malluri rubbed his chin, "Who are your mathematics tutors?"

"Mr. Vangroke, Miss Denemec and Miss Leger. It's not their instruction which is
faulty but the program. They put too much focus on the basics. The other
students... feel the same."

"I hope it isn't too late to change the program. Why didn't you mention this
earlier?"

Alleria looked up. In truth, if it had truly been interfering with her studies, she
would have told Mr. Malluri about it. "It's unnecessary to change the program.
Mathematics is a subject I don't need tutoring in. If one of the questions of the
exam will be in Mathematics, out of the students in the seminary, only I'll pass."

Malluri and Willum both regarded her with shocked interest, even Alleria hadn't
realised she had it in her. It dawned on her now, she was truly malicious. There
was a moment in which the implications of her words sank in, and then Malluri
smiled as if savouring some good flavour. He nudged his son. "Keep your eyes
peeled, boy, this girl will grow

to be the most powerful woman in the empire."

Alleria clutched the pile of papers in her lap, glad she had something to hold. She
couldn't bring herself to drink her tea.

"Anyway," Malluri went on, not missing a beat, "to the true reason of our visit.
Willum, if you may?"

Brooding and bored once more, Willum handed Alleria an unsealed manilla envelope.
It crackled between her fingers as she took it and looked quizzically between her
benefactor and his son. Malluri, beaming, gestured for her to open it. Inside was a
single sheet of paper. It was a list with no title. Just five items: Renaissance
poetry, Barisinic architecture, Acoustics, Asomott numbers, Alaazian law....

A chill creeped down her spine. Trouble on paper. "This is...?"

"The subjects for the exam," Malluri said in a low voice.

Alleria opened her mouth to say something, but she had no words that could express
her thoughts.

"I don't doubt your abilities for a moment, my girl, but you must understand by now
that the exam is anything but fair. They will know you by name, by age and most
importantly, by gender and background. Over the past fifty years, only a marginal
number of women were admitted into the High Academy and all of them had been from
noble or upper class families. It was only in the time of Emperor Jarvius III that
the High Academy had been opened to accept anyone who passed the exam regardless of
background, seventy-nine years, and you know how many of common birth have been
accepted in that time?"

"Four," Alleria answered. "But only one was made fellow of the

Imperial Academy. Maddox Barnel, grand vizier to the Emperor Tarris, first of his
name."

"Four!" Malluri cried, now swept away by the novelty of the situation. "And none of
them had been women, or sixteen."

Alleria looked at the list. The exam had the potential to be about nearly
everything there was to know in the world, but there were always only five
questions in five different subjects. The subjects were revealed two weeks before
the exam, probably to discourage anyone who did not know these subjects fully from
attempting to sit it. The subjects were said to be a closely guarded secret, but it
had been known that on occasion, greasing the correct palms could grant an
exclusive early reveal. How much money had Malluri paid for this piece of paper?

"Is it... authentic?" Alleria asked, tentatively.

"Haha, 99% authentic, dear girl." Malluri was beaming at her again. Even if he
didn't always seem too fond of her, he enjoyed this sort of 'investment'. "And if
it isn't, my source will have a lot of... explaining to do."

Alleria put the paper back in the envelope and fixed her patron with a hard stare.
"Mr. Malluri," she said, as seriously as she knew how to. "You want me to study
only these subjects? You understand that if there's any aberration, any alteration
from these five subjects, then I may fail."

"Minsuit thinks it's the best course of action," Malluri admitted, rubbing his chin
thoughtfully. "Your case is... so unlikely. That's the beauty of it, of course, but
also the fault."

"I can still... continue as I've been doing, sir, studying everything as if I don't
know the subjects," Alleria suggested hopefully. "It would be a shame as I've been
making very good progress."

"I know, dear girl, your tutors are highly enthusiastic. I don't know what you do
to them to make them have stars in their eyes, haha." Mr Malluri reached out and
patted the back of her hand. "But this will be best, Miss Bellencreek. It's exactly
what we need to tip the scale. I have no doubt that if you started on the same
ground as everyone else, you would be First Paramount, but we have to give you
another edge so that the examiners won't be able to ignore how brightly you shine."

Alleria looked over at Mam and Da who had been, all this time, standing frozen in
the kitchen doorway. Da looked doubtful, he always taught her that although the
world was filled with lies people tell each other and themselves, you could never
frown upon honest effort and the effort to be honest. But Mam understood the twisty
sort of deceit required to be political, she nodded firmly in answer to the
question in Alleria's eyes.

"Alright, Mr. Malluri." Alleria finally said, sighing in resignation.

---

Author's Note: I hope you loved this chapter. I'd be so happy if you voted and even
happier if you left a comment.

=================

Chapter 6 - You Need Not Know

Chapter 6 - You Need Not Know

Time refused to cease it's rapid race and with every day that passed, the tension
rose agonisingly higher. Knowing the subjects didn't make Alleria relax - on the
contrary, she was more deeply engrossed than she had ever been before. It had made
everything about the exam very real and serious. Her interest and attention kept
hopping like a rabbit in a big green field, she kept having to rope herself in,
bully her brain and focus, focus, focus.

For this reason, studying took longer and was more painful and less enjoyable.
There was a feeling of emptiness, as all her inspiration had evaporated. No amount
of knowledge could fill the clamouring void that grew the closer the exam came.

"Alleria!"

It was less cold, but raining a lot. Was this spring here in Callivar? She couldn't
quite tell. Although it was supposed to be spring already, everything was grey. She
was walking down the wide and trendy Tower Avenue with her huge light blue and pink
streaked umbrella. Colourful umbrellas were not in fashion, so Alleria's was a
beacon of bright colour in a sea of black canopies.

"Alleria!"

She just had enough time to look up as someone ran out of a nearby cafe' and ducked
underneath her umbrella. Cassel was shivering wearing tan-coloured trousers and a
thin orange jumper. "You were going to leave without me," he accused sullenly.

She didn't deny it. After all, he was right, she had been thinking about other
things and had forgotten about him. Every single weekday for the past five months,
Cassel had waited for her

outside the seminary and walked her home.

He continued to come, day after day, even when she told him not to. Soon everyone
at the seminary thought he was her boyfriend, or 'intended' as they called it. It
didn't matter that he kept his promise to her and never touched her, he was a boy
and she was a girl and they spent time together every single day,

Anyway, how was she to know he wasn't her intended? She had no intention of having
an intended, but it made sense that her benefactor would wish for her to have an
escort while wandering the city and Cassel was Mr. Malluri's step-son. It would not
be right for Willum to marry someone from common birth, but a scholar was not a bad
match for a step-son.

Alleria knew she could still force the issue and make Cassel stop coming, but she
tolerated him because, when all was said and done, she didn't have any friends here
in Callivar. People at the seminary didn't talk to her much, they considered her
queer for her age and background. She had a better relationship with her tutors
than she did with her peers.

She had a better relationship with her books than she did with her tutors. Her only
friends were bits of paper glued together and wrapped in paperboard, wood or
leather.

Alleria had known that her path was one she had to walk alone. To accomplish a
dream, one must be willing to make certain sacrifices. Knowing the consequences,
however, didn't make the bite of loneliness any lesser.

"Why are you dressed like that?" she asked. "Where's your jacket?"

"It was sunny this morning."

"You didn't notice it was cold when you

left the house?"

"It wasn't cold in the car."

"You come here by car?"

"I hate walking." He shrugged, "But I know you like it."

Alleria sighed and unraveled her wooly green muffler, handing it to Cassel. His
face lit up when he took it, his eyes practically radiate. She could see that he
was touched, and he didn't even make any snide comment to hide it. That was another
thing that had prevented her from chasing Cassel away. Maybe sometimes he would say
something thoughtless or stupid, but overall, he was a nice boy. It was as if the
Cassel she had met that first night at Mr. Malluri's house had been someone else
entirely. She chose to judge him according to the side she saw more, not by some
isolated event.

After wrapping the muffler around his neck and exclaiming how warm it was and nice
it smelled, he reached over and took the umbrella.

She complied to this arrangement without comment. Cassel claimed that he hated
carrying around an umbrella but didn't mind if he did it for her. It was large
enough to protect both of them (and maybe half the street) from the rain.

They rarely spoke on their walks home. But that was another convenience of having
Cassel escort her, she could pull out her notes and study while walking and the boy
at her side would look after her safety and well-being. There was even a small and
silly part of her that was happy about this, walking and reading at the same time
was normally very dangerous, but it was nevertheless fun.
Today was no exception, she was absorbed in her notes and occasionally he lightly
touched her elbow to steer

her around various obstacles or to stop her from walking into rushing traffic.

It started near the corner of Wellbridge and Eastbush, a cold breeze rising up from
a winding lane on Alleria's right made her look up from her notes. She stopped
walking and rubbed a spot between her eyes, shaking her head from side to side to
rid herself of the odd feeling. It was a smell that triggered it, a smell that
reminded her of something. But just as it came, it disappeared, and with it the
feeling of remembering.

"What's wrong? Let's go." Cassel sounded anxious. She should have taken greater
notice how his eyes were fixed on a spot in the alley, but she was too preoccupied
with that nagging feeling that something had just slipped her mind.

They went on, Alleria trying to go back to her notes and Cassel constantly looking
over his shoulder. But it was him, and not her, who was the next to suddenly stop.
They were trudging down the steep cobbled Guy Mass Street, only five minutes from
home, when suddenly Alleria found herself standing beneath the pouring rain. She
looked up and back, Cassel was two paces behind her, frozen to his spot, his face a
pale mask of horror.

She was about to turn her head to see whatever he was looking at, but like a statue
that had come to life, Cassel went into action, lunging forward as he threw aside
the umbrella, cupping her face with both her hands. "Don't look," he breathed out
so urgently she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She stared into his
green eyes, there was a strange, misty quality about them, as if they were filled
with steam.

"Why?" she asked quietly. She was annoyed at the little jolt her heart gave when he
touched her like this. She had certainly not felt this way when she had met Cassel
at Mr. Malluri's and she had no intention of feeling like this now.

"It's not for you to see." His lips were shaking. His whole body was shaking. She
could feel it.

Alleria pushed his hands back and turned around. He made a sound of protest, but it
was too late to stop her. She looked down the street. At first she thought there
was nothing there. There were cars parked along the narrow concrete pedestrian
walk, an estate agency a few steps ahead, and a mother and child walking hand in
hand near the end of the street. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing strange.

Except the woman.

She was walking down the middle of the street with her back turned to them. She had
long light brown hair that was dry despite the rain and wore a flowing dress of
white, like a bride. She was humming, her voice deep and scratchy and easily
carried to Alleria's ears

The tune was familiar, and Alleria knew that it should have had words, but she
couldn't remember what they were. It brought about feelings, longing mixed with
compulsion, and a small tinge of excitement. Cassel grabbed her arm, his fingers
digging into her flesh through her wet sleeve. "You see it? Don't look!"

As if hearing his words, the woman stopped walking and turned to look at them.

But she didn't have a face.

She didn't have a face.

There was just a blank expanse of pale, pale white skin where her face should have
been.

She was not singing, or humming, the tune was just coming off her in waves, like a
person radiated heat. A chill snaked down Alleria's spine.

"Alleria, run!" Cassel's pull on her arm reanimated her body. At first she just
stumbled after him, but then true fear overtook the peculiar numbness that had
settled into her and she began running in earnest.

They rushed up Guy Maas Street, turned left at Valentine Way and then raced down an
unnamed alley, their feet slipping over the sleek, uneven cobbles. The alley ended
in a small park that was little more than three benches surrounding a large pine
tree. Cassel picked up a fallen branch and only then did he release his grip on
Alleria's arm. She watched him as he drew a large circle in the ground around her
and then stepped into its centre at her side. She could hear him mumbling words
under his breath, "Hold, still, stay, stop. Hold, still, stay, stop..."

He hugged his arms around himself and doubled over, still shaking.

"Cassel?" Alleria asked carefully after giving him a moment to gather himself. "Was
that..?"

"If you have to look, always look at their feet," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Demons don't touch the ground."

"A demon? Here? But, how?"

He looked up with a harrowed expression. Somehow there were shadows dancing on his
face, making his cheekbones stand out. "For all your supposed knowledge, Alleria,
you know nothing."

"Why don't you tell me, then, Cassel, how you know so much?" She couldn't help
sounding cross. She hated it when people flaunted their knowledge without even
trying to explain.

He straightened but looked away, his eyes staring at the hasty circle he had drawn
on the ground. It was more oval than actual circle, Alleria observed, but the human
hand was hardly ever accurate enough to draw a perfect circle.

The rain stopped then. He looked up at the sky, his wet blond hair sticking to his
cheeks. "You're not the only one who has had an Encounter with a demon," he looked
into her eyes, solemn and bitter. "But unlike you, I never survived."

"But you're alive," she protested.

Cassel laughed morosely. "Alive..." He shook his head from side to side, "Just
because I'm not dead doesn't mean I'm alive."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't have an Individual to protect me from the Many! You'll never understand.
"
"Please, Cassel." She grabbed his arm. Partly because it felt like he would fade
away soon, like he wasn't actually real. But also because she was more than a
little spooked. "Please tell me. I want to understand you, I need to."

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND!" he cried, pulling away from her. His voice
bounced back and forth from building to building. She was stunned into silence.
"You nosy girl. You think everything is about you. You want to know it all, but you
can't."

"No, Cassel it's not that." There were tears in her eyes, her voice shook. She
loathed feeling this way, as if she didn't really know what was going on in her
head.

"Yes it is, you simply hate to admit it," he said.

And then he left the circle he had drawn.

And turned his back to Alleria.

And walked away.

=================

Chapter 7 - Cheat

Chapter 7 - Cheat

The next day Alleria wasn't surprised when Cassel didn't wait for her outside the
seminary. It was raining again, but this time she didn't have her umbrella handy.
She stood outside the double doors of the seminary and watched the drumming drops
hit the pavement. Her heart felt heavy, as if she were used to eating at this hour
something sweet which she was now being denied. The thought that kept resurfacing
was that she couldn't even tell what she had done to upset Cassel to that extent.
It almost felt as if he had been angry with her all along and finally had an
opportunity to express it.

But if he hadn't even liked her as a person, why did he come here every day?

"You forgot your umbrella, Miss Bellencreek?" Somia Dausarx had just walked out of
the seminary. She was a young woman, six or seven years older than Alleria. While
sometimes they studied in the same group, Somia wasn't going to take the exam this
time. She wasn't ready. Perhaps she would be in a few years' time. She could afford
to wait, Somia's family was high class, she didn't speak in dialect or need a
patron's financial support.

"Umbrella? I guess I did," Alleria said, smiling weakly. "Don't I feel silly! With
so much to remember, I forget the simplest things."

"Actually, Bellencreek, I've been meaning to speak with you."

Somehow, something like that coming from someone like Somia Dausarx, who had never
really tried to converse with Alleria beyond base formalities, sounded foreboding
"You have?"

"I've seen you, you know. It isn't right."

Alleria's

apprehension mounted. What was it this time? What had she done? She tried her best
to keep her toes clean, but Callivar, and all its strange unwritten rules had her
feeling like she was walking on eggshells. "You've seen me?"

"Reading and walking, alone. I know you're trying hard to be little miss prodigy
and you can't disappoint that oily Mr. Malluri, but what if you were hit by a car?
The poor undeserving driver would be traumatised for life just because you needed a
few more seconds of cramming."

Somia wasn't pretty, she wasn't even cute. She was dumpy and short with a round
knob-like nose, big perturbing ears, a square jaw, a wide forehead and pudgy little
hands which she often drew attention to by cracking her knuckles. She had money,
but not many good prospects for marriage, she was relatively studious, and had been
pushed and prodded the entirety of her life to become a scholar.

Alleria had not expected her to have such a poor personality to top it off. Even as
she thought these thoughts, she realised two things: One, her mind was being overly
nasty today and second, she was gaping at Somia. "I wasn't alone. I was with
Cassel, Mr. Malluri's step son."

"Mr Malluri has a step son?"

Alleria was beginning to feel worried for Somia. "You met him just the other day.
You were with Gertrud Norberdink. She said her husband has the same shoes as Cassel
does."

Somia was taken aback, obviously this conversation was not going in the direction
she had intended it to. "Oh...Oh yes, I suppose there was someone with you..."

Just then, Gertrud walked out of the seminary, buttoning up

her long ebony coat. Gertrud too was a high-class lady, but she was impressive and
stylish, she was also quick-witted and even if she wasn't nice, she didn't have the
mannerisms of a savage. "Afternoon Somia, Alleria, I see you're going home alone
again. Somia, did you talk to her about reading and walking? I know walking alone
every day can be boring, Alleria, but you must pay attention to where you're
going."

It felt like snakes had replaced the blood in Alleria's veins. She felt wrong from
toe to crown. It was one thing for Somia to forget about Cassel, but Gertrud too?
All of a sudden, breathing required thought. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go,"
Alleria said, rushing out into the rain.

How could they forget? What was going on? Cassel was a person, he was real.
Everyone had seen him, talked to him, called him her "intended". Alleria forced
herself to calm, allowing the rain that pelted into her hair and the back of her
neck to cool her thoughts. She had given Cassel her muffler, he still had it. She
steadied her breathing. She would get to the bottom of this, she would somehow find
a book about the occult, somehow find a source and understand it.

That was what she always did. If there was a mystery, she would bend her mind and
thoughts and unravel it, contain it, comprehend it, study it.

Then the music started.

Alleria looked left and right, up and down the street. There were no demons in
sight. The music was coming from somewhere far-off. With her hammering heart caught
in her throat, she ran through the rain all the way home.

***

If she did

not know it was the demon-world's summoning call, Alleria would have thought she
was going crazy. The music remained, distant but insistent, for the following days.
She was surprised that it didn't disturb her concentration for studying. Whatever
it was, it wasn't unpleasant. It felt like she was on the brink of something, as if
any moment now there would be a revelation and a new understanding of the world
would dawn on her.

She got into the habit of running home, which was just as well because the exercise
helped awaken her mind. But even in her little room, with her books and the rain
tapping on the slanted roof above her head, she felt something lurking in the
corners, watching, waiting, calling.

There was no sign of Cassel but the world moved on, days felt like mere hours. And
then it was that day, two weeks before the exam, when the subjects would be
revealed. Mr. Malluri called that morning, wondering how Alleria was doing. She
stared at the receiver and wondered what answer would appease him. "I'll talk to ya
once I've seen the subjects... sir," Alleria said in heavy dialect.

It was the best she could muster, she couldn't do it all together: study for the
exam, be summoned by the demon-world and talk to people. Mr. Malluri had answered
something, the call had been concluded thereafter. Her parents drove her to the
seminary on their way to work like they did every day. She read, she wrote papers,
she proved scientific speculations using mathematics. At 3:00 PM, she left the
seminary along with everyone else and walked the quarter mile to the city hall.

It was finally

fully spring, the sun was out and everything was glorious and bright. Surrounded by
the other seminary students, the music didn't feel so loud. For the first time
since Mr. Malluri delivered the subjects to her hands, Alleria felt guilt. She was
a cheater. The kind of dodgy character that didn't deserve to achieve great things.
She had ignored her own morals, had neglected her ideals. In the rush to succeed,
she had completely forgotten why she was doing this in the first place.

It was exactly this corruption which she sought to fight, exactly this type of
behaviour that the imperial bureaucracy suffered from. She had not stepped but one
pace into that world, and already, she faltered.

They entered the hall of records. Why was she still there? She wasn't worthy.

Alleria almost turned to leave without looking at the official imperial document
posted on the announcement board. She almost didn't see.

Organisation ethics

Dearbrook's formulae

Biomathematics

Constitutional law

Theology
It took one glance to see; subjects she had been studying were not the subjects
written here.

She had been misguided. She had blundered. She would pay.

The music hit her then, body and spirit. It blared with ferocity and intent. Was it
gloating? Or comforting?

There were words. She could hear them, lulling her emotions, making her feel light.
"On the margins... On the stitches... In the doorways... On the bridges..." Flute-
like and ethereal, she could feel the rush of the tune, the pull of song.

And then eerily from the shadows,

"Come to me... Come to me..."

Alleria turned around and walked out of the hall. Down the wide marble stairs to
the crowded street. The crowd seemed to part for her. Would it be so terrible to go
there? She had a friend there. She had no friends here. There was a lot of noise
all around, but the song's tickling whisper continued. She felt sick, her thoughts
were alien, ill-fitting and uncomfortable. The shadows grew wider. She crouched
down, fighting, fighting...

Panic overtook her, she began to drift.

"Alleria." Hands on her shoulders, gripping. Gripping hard. The firmness of those
hands brought her to her senses. She looked up, dazed. Her chest felt painful and
raw.

"Cassel?"

He was crouching there right before her, his blond hair glowing in the spring
sunshine in a golden halo round his head. He looked flustered, his forehead creased
with worry. "Alleria," he said again, hesitating. Then he pulled her into a tight
hug, breathing out a sigh against her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was almost
too late. She almost had you. I thought... I thought she was after me. I thought
she wanted me back."

Although Alleria hadn't wanted or expected Cassel to hug her, a hug was what she
needed most. But his words were odd. She pulled back and looked into his eyes.
"Who's after me?"

Cassel's gaze darkened, he pursed his lips together before speaking, "The Authora."

And suddenly she remembered. A figure, a woman, but strong, radiating command and
authority. If it hadn't been for... If her demon hadn't been there... What would
have happened? That woman

had wanted to take something from her. Had wanted her to stay there for a big
purpose. But she hadn't understood it then, she couldn't make sense of it now.

"What should I do?"

Cassel stroked her cheeks and ran his hands down her arms, "You have to pass, you
have to become someone meaningful in this world. That's the only thing that can
protect you from her."

"But I was tricked, Cassel. I'm not going to pass the exam. It would be foolish to
even try."

"What makes you so sure, Miss Prodigy?"

"I don't take it for granted. I need to study to be able to pass. It doesn't come
without effort."

His hands found both of hers, he grasped them, pulling them towards him. "Then make
that effort."

"That's impossible. There're only two weeks left!"

He rose and helped her up. "'Leria, there are a lot of impossible things happening
wherever you're concerned. What's one more impossibility?"

Alleria looked down at her toes. It was true, she wouldn't give up on the exam. She
would see it through, however undeserving she was. She didn't need Cassel to
convince her of that, she looked up at him. He was regarding her with a strange
look, there was still something amiss, something he couldn't or wouldn't tell her.

"Cassel, we need to talk about you."

He grinned, leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. She glared, not because
she minded being kissed by him now, but because he was evading. "We don't have time
for that conversation right now."

"And later? Will you tell me later?"

"Survive the present. Later will have to take care of itself."

That sounded strangely like something Da would say. She exhaled in frustration as
he took her hand and began leading her home. Back to being buried by her books.

---

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Don't forget to vote and I'm always
thrilled to receive comments. See you next week!

=================

Chapter 8 - Low

Author's note: Surprise, surprise! Another chapter. I will continue posting

chapters every Sunday but will also post another chapter at the beginning of the
week whenever it's finished. Enjoy and don't forget to vote and comment. :-)

-----

Chapter 8 - Low

Years later, Alleria still couldn't understand how she managed to survive the two
weeks before the exam. She had always believed that the human body needed sleep,
oxygen and food to live, but she had done without. Hours flickered by, the sun rose
and fell in flashing sequences surrounded by pink and orange. Once she read in
daylight, once she read in lamplight. There was an insistent cramping in her neck.
Sometimes she read on her bed with the book held over her face until her arms grew
numb. Sometimes she drifted off at her desk, and when she awoke every ache and pain
in her body was tenfold.

Mam came ever so often bearing trays of food. Small, neat things that Alleria could
pick up with her hand and not spill on her books. But after a few bites, her mind
would wander back to what it had been doing, or she'd need her hand for writing
rather than eating. In the back of her mind she knew Mam was worried when she came
to retrieve the nearly untouched trays, but it was like a thing that happened in a
dream, never registering for more than a fleeting second and failing entirely to
raise up emotions.

When first she had been aced with this task she had felt colossal panic. Though the
moment she sat down to study, all her emotions had vanished. She believed she was
in a state of perpetual calm, there was

a blank emptiness in her heart.

She felt absolutely nothing.

But then, three days before the exam, she started shivering and sneezing. She put
down her pen as the words on the page became nothing but black blotches. She looked
around. It was nighttime, all was quiet. The lamp on her desk cast shadows in the
corners of the room. They looked woozy.

And a fist of sadness rammed into her stomach. She gasped, pulling back from her
desk and bringing her knees up to her chest. Her heart constricted and the
shivering grew harder.

Then tears spilled down her cheeks, followed by sniffles and gulps. She pressed the
backs of her hands to her face, trying to reduce the pressure that suddenly formed
behind her eyes. But somehow that only increased everything, her shivering became
shaking as she did her best to hold back the racking sobs.

A soft knock at the door, and Mam, hair laden with rollers, padded in on fluffy
white slippers. "Oh, darling," she said in that sweet voice mothers use and hurried
across to Alleria. She hugged, patted and cooed, stroking and shushing and saying
all the right things, in the right tones, until everything became uncomplicated and
Alleria felt that she was once again little.

"Mama," like a child, like a baby, she was just so miserable and she didn't even
know why. She clung to her mother, her tears streaming freely now. Then Mam pulled
away, and placed a tenderly firm hand against Alleria's forehead.

"Oh no, 'Leria-love, you're burning up." She pressed her hand to Alleria's cheeks
and looked with concern into her eyes. "You've

gotta rest, duckie. Get into bed, love, and Mam'll warm you some soup."

It felt so nice to hear Mam use dialect and call her the old abandoned pet-names
that Alleria complied without even the slightest argument.

Perhaps she drifted off, because Mam returned with warm soup and buttered toast in
what felt like mere seconds later. She somehow managed to both braid Alleria's hair
and help her eat at the same time, before giving her some cold medicine and tucking
her in.

Alleria lay snug and drowsy in her bed, her thoughts drifting like leaves on a
pond. Her shivering had stopped, and now she just felt warm and heavy, like her
bones were going to fall out of her flesh. But she also felt secure in a way that
she hadn't in years. She would likely fail, she knew there wasn't much of a chance.
But maybe it wasn't a bad thing. She could be a child for a little longer.

Just a little longer.

***

Bright sunlight flitted through the window, Alleria woke up sweaty. The clock on
the wall informed her that it was well past 11 o'clock. She stared at it in
disbelief for several long moments and threw the duvet off her body to cool down.
She felt better than she had in a long time, everything was vibrant and clear, but
her limbs were like jelly so moving was out of the question.

She hadn't woken of her own violation, something had woken her. Voices. Raised
voices were coming from the living room. It sounded like Mam and Da were having an
argument, the pressed and angry tones were a good indicator. Mam was on the verge
of shouting, Da was simply speaking fast and heatedly. But then

a third voice intervened. Mam and Da were not arguing with each other, they were
arguing with someone else.

Alleria tuned in, straining her ears. "... unnecessarily dramatic? I'm not being
dramatic!" Mam's voice peeked at the end. Oh, she was millimetres from losing it
completely. "WHAT YOU'VE CAUSED -"

"Sixteen! For God's sake, she's only sixteen. You've got no idea what this, all
this, has cost her!" Da cut Mam off. Da was usually a soft-spoken person, he always
listened and then thought and finally said his piece in a way that wouldn't hurt
other people. For him to talk in such a way, something must truly be wrong.

"Now, Mr. Bellencreek, I wasn't implying -" said the third voice. A man's voice.

"You don't need to imply anything, Mr. Malluri. It's written all over your face."

Mr. Malluri.

Her parents were shouting at Mr. Malluri.

Alleria jumped out of bed and threw on her dressing gown. She was in a state of
complete disarray, smelly, snotty, with tangled hair, puffy red eyes and flushed
cheeks, but she rushed out of her room, down the hall and stood gaping through the
living room door.

The three adults in the living room froze under her bewildered stare. She opened
her mouth to speak, but no voice came out. She ended up clearing her throat
instead.

"You- you should be in bed, darling," Mam said, fighting to seem composed. Her
flushed face gave away just how agitated she was.

Da pursed his lips so tightly they were bone-white and crossed his arms. He looked
pointedly at the wall.

Mr. Malluri gaped at her. He seemed rather

ruffled himself, like a bear that had just woken up from its winter slumber, except
not so well-rested. Willum was in the room too, she noticed. But as always, he
looked bored, like nothing in the world could wet his parched spirit.
Again, it was required of her to say something.

"What's..." Alleria began, but stopped because Willum raised a questioning eyebrow
at her. "What's going on here?"

Mam glared at Mr. Malluri who scratched his chin apprehensively, she noticed he had
quite a bit of stubble. "Miss Bellencreek, I was only discussing with your parents,
er, the matter of the future of this endeavour..."

"The future of which endeavour, Mr. Malluri?" Alleria asked in quiet, level tones.

"We have been debating what course of action would be wisest..."

"Course of action for what, Mr. Malluri?"

"In times like these, it is sometimes wisest to cut your losses so you would have
enough revenue for future investments..."

Alleria crossed her arms. "Are you pulling away your support, Mr. Malluri?"

He balked, raising his arms up in defence. "No, dear girl, no, I wasn't -Mr.
Minsuit believes that -"

The heat of anger rose from her stomach up to her throat. There was a tremor in her
voice when she spoke. "Someone lied to you. Someone you trusted tricked and
manipulated you. Have you looked into that, sir?"

"Oh, have I indeed!" Mr. Malluri's face was suddenly red with anger as well. "The
price I paid for that paper! That bloody piece of paper. The amount of favours I
had to trade for it, the injury it inflicted on my reputation.

And for what? You don't even stand a chance to begin with..."

Cold replaced the hot. "I don't?"

"Not now, not this time." Mr. Malluri sighed and deflated. "Minsuit believes that
it would be best to wait eight more years. Frankly, you're too young, Miss
Bellencreek. You're underage, you still require adult supervision. If it were only
your gender and your background, they would have less cause to fail you by
default."

"Aye, I agree," Alleria said, the set of her shoulders eased.

The three adults in the room stiffened with surprise. Mr. Malluri's eyes widened.
"You agree?"

"I'll probably be more intelligent in eight years' time. I'll know everything
perfectly. There won't even be the slightest chance of failure."

"Yes, yes, wonderful point, dear girl."

"I can build a reputation in society, they won't think I'm just some bumpkin or a
charity case."

"Very true. Indeed, you are a genius."

"But I think it's better we talk about it only if I fail the exam this time."

Mr. Malluri looked as if he had been told that he would not be having a birthday
this year. "You mean to tell me you still intend to sit the exam? Even after what
happened?"

Alleria didn't know she had it in her, but she wore a expression of incredulous
surprise. "Of course I will, sir, it's the day after tomorrow."

"Yes, I understand -"

"I've worked rather hard for this."

"Naturally, but -"

"Maddox Barnel will personally be overseeing this exam. Do you know what that
means, Mr. Malluri?"

Mr. Malluri sighed and rubbed his face. He knew what it meant, Alleria could tell,
he knew that Maddox Barnel was their only hope at a fair chance. Perhaps the only
fair chance they'll ever have. Along with the subjects, the Overseer had been
announced. If she had known that he would be Overseer beforehand, if there had even
been the slightest rumour of that happening, she wouldn't have accepted -

Alleria mentally reprimanded herself. That was not a thought she was allowed to
think. She had to live with her mistakes.

"Will you make it?"

She could have sworn Mr. Malluri sounded wistful. She shook her head in reply,
"Probably not."

"But you're willing to try anyway?"

She shrugged her slight shoulders and turned to look at her parents who had been
attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible. Da gave her a slight grin and Mam,
blinking furiously, stormed into the kitchen, then she looked at Willum and was
surprised to see him staring right back at her. Alleria stiffened. The look he gave
her was frightening, she had never been looked at with such loathing before.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Miss Bellencreek," Mr. Malluri concluded,
lifting his hat off the coffee table. There was an awkward moment in which everyone
recalled the shouting-match that had occurred only minutes before. "Well now, we
should be going. Mr. Bellencreek," he nodded at Da, "Miss Bellencreek. Willum,
come."

The way he said his son's name, as if it was ash in his mouth. Alleria watched them
go and only vaguely remembered to say good-by.

=================

Chapter 9 - The Exam - Part 1

Author's note: Another chapter posted before Sunday! Hopefully I'll be done with
the next one soon as well. I hope you enjoy this one, don't forget to vote if you
do! <3 HAPPY NEW YEAR!

----
Chapter 9 - The Exam - Part 1

Alleria placed her bag atop the bed. Part of what made her a "genius" was her
ability to remember things easily after reading them only once and then
intergrading them together with previous knowledge and adding her own assessments
and interpretations.

Apparently, those abilities didn't apply to packing. Even though she had checked
and re-checked everything, had written lists, had looked over said lists and
crossed out every article that had already been packed, she still felt like she was
forgetting something.

Aside from when she had been spirited away, this would be her first time sleeping
outside her parents' home. She felt both excited and nervous. Mr. Malluri's car was
to pick her up at 7:00 PM, the exam would take place in the Demecry convention
centre of the outer sanctum of Imperia, the emperor's city.

The phone rang in the hall, as always, she paid it no heed.

"'Leria?" Her mother sounded odd. "You have a phone call. It's a boy."

Alleria walked from her room, across the living room and to the entrance corridor,
Mam gave her an incredulous look as she passed her by. Alleria picked up the
receiver, "Hullo?"

"It's me," said Cassel's voice.

"No way. I thought I was me."

"Hur di har," Cassel's fake laugh was nonetheless accompanied by a real chuckle.

Alleria didn't know what to say. This was the third time in

all her life that she had managed to use the telephone successfully. In the whole
village they had had only one telephone located in the post office. She wound the
springy cord around her finger as she allowed contemplative silence to spread
across the line.

"I almost forgot how amazing your conversation skills are," Cassel pointed out
after a minute.

"Did you call to be reminded?"

"That too. I also wanted to wish you good luck."

"Thanks," Alleria said and was proud of herself for not mentioning that luck
wouldn't help her.

"You're welcome."

Silence.

"'Leria?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say your name."

"Is that... are we finished with this conversation?" She wasn't sure when it was
alright to hang up.

"No, we're not." Cassel sounded peculiar, as if he were reluctant to say something.
But she wasn't sure, it bothered her that she couldn't see his face. She wished she
could. "After you finish the exam..."

"Yes?"

"I was wondering. Will you go somewhere with me?"

Alleria smiled, but then remembered he couldn't see. "Aye, where do you want to
go?"

"Just anywhere." Was there a smile in his voice? Was she imagining it?

"Anywhere? In the city?"

"I'll pick you up after the exam." There was another voice speaking in the
background, it had a raspy, whispery quality. It sounded familiar.

Alleria's skin crawled

"Cassel, where are you now?"

"I'm keeping safe,'Leria, keeping safe. I have to go."

"Wait, you forgot to tell me when and where you're going to -" but the line went
dead. She looked at the receiver in her

hand. At least it was safe to hang up now.

Mam was in the living room going over bills when Alleria padded back towards her
bedroom. "Who were you talking to?"

"Cassel." Alleria said, and watched with uncomfortable tension how the name
registered on her mother's face only to be forgotten a second later.

***

"Eleanore" read the name-tag of the receptionist at the front desk of the Hotel
Grand Demecry. Aside from being trendy and blond, she wore the expression of
someone that loathed her job. She looked over Alleria's shoulder before fixing her
with an annoyed stare. "Yes? What do you want?"

"I have a room booked, madam." Alleria carefully placed her documents on the
counter one after the other. Her passport, her city permit-of-stay, her examinee's
certificate and her seminary recommendations. The receptionist lifted the passport,
then looked at all the rest of the documents before putting them down and giving
Alleria a once-over

Thanks to Quillic's wardrobe choices, Alleria looked just as young as she was.
Here, in the midst of the mightiest minds of the empire, she had to keep up with
appearances. That meant a crisp white blouse with a round collar tucked into a
light-blue bell-shaped skirt, frilly socks that rose just above the ankles and
dark-brown spool-heeled buckle shoes.

Time passed as the receptionist looked again and again between Alleria's documents
and a big, big ledger on the desk. Checking-in was taking longer than it should. It
was difficult not to panic, or to keep the dialect from overtaking her words when
she spoke. "What's the problem?"

The

receptionist glared up at her, obviously having tried and convicted Alleria of

fraud. "It says here you were born on 3.Tarris, that means you're fourteen."

"Emperor Tarris has been our ruler for nineteen years, madam," Alleria corrected
her, "I'm sixteen."

"Same difference," Eleanore spoke in clipped tones. "What is a kid like you doing
in a place like this? How did you get these documents?"

Everyone in the Grand Demecry lobby stopped what they were doing to openly stare at
the spectacle. Alleria felt how the heat rose up in her face and knew that she was
blushing. A man standing on Alleria's left who had just received his room key
turned his head to regard her. He's was youngish and immaculately dressed. There
was a sigil of an elephant sewn on his black silk jacket, the Dagen family crest.
He was therefore a second-cousin to Emperor Tarris and was unashamedly leering at
her.

Her stomach turned, she still was not completely over her cold and thus on the
verge of getting sick.

Then the Dagen man rolled his eyes at the receptionist before smiling kindly. Maybe
he hadn't been leering after all? "You're that child everyone is talking about!" he
exclaimed for all to hear. "The village girl out of a fairy-story, but set on
becoming a scholar and not marrying a prince. The inspirational story of the
century. You certainly made the better bargain, but if you're still after marrying
a prince, my cousin Ambert is obsessed with you."

Wasn't he referring to Lord Ambert of Kane, the playmate of prince Tristan, Emperor
Tarris's heir?

Alleria swallowed, she blinked both her

eyes before tucking down her chin in embarrassment. "If - If it's all the same,
I'll hold back on marriage for the time being, my lord," she mumbled, feeling like
an idiot and only too conscious of her drawling accent.

"Salem Dagen," he said, offering her his hand.

Salem Dagen, she recognised that name, he was fourth but favourite son of Count
Dagen. Alleria's eyes went wide, one wasn't supposed to shake the hand of someone
with royal blood, but refusing to do so outright would be rude. "Alleria
Bellencreek."

She hesitated for just a moment before taking his hand. It was just a hand, after
all. She knew his blood wasn't actually blue, either.

"I hope we meet again, Miss Bellencreek. I wish you well."

This Lord Dagen certainly had good manners and dimples, and straight white teeth
and very warm brown eyes. When he let go of her hand she allowed it drop at her
side determined not to look as in awe as she felt. "You too, my lord, good luck."

You too? Good luck? What was wrong with her?

He gave a courteous nod before walking away. When she turned her attention back to
the front desk, her documents had all been stacked into a neat pile and Eleanore,
the now pink-faced, smiling receptionist was waiting with Alleria's room key in her
hand.

***

Now was the hour of truth.

The queue was long and quiet. The tension almost tangible, like a blurry shadow
that wafted out of people's skin. No one dared speak, or make eye contact, or
breathe too loudly.

Alleria looked at the wall on her right. She couldn't stomach looking at other
people.

The wallpaper had an awful pattern of mustard-yellow squiggly lines. A little way
to the left there was a horrid painting of a bowl of fruit hanging under an old
clock that was ticking, ticking, ticking.

The old, well-polished wooden floor creaked like a giant cricket as the queue moved
up. Alleria's turn came. Two old men and a woman were sitting behind a desk. She
silently handed over her papers. The woman crossed out a name on a list, gave her a
card with a number and pointed her towards the left door.

She entered the ladies' changing room. She had already left her jacket and purse in
the cloak room. Grasping the card with both hands, she presented it before the
three elderly women in charge. They told her to remove all her clothing down to her
undergarments. One woman checked every inch of her body for crib-sheets or anything
written on her skin before giving her a light-blue robe and light-blue slippers.
Dressed like a scholar, she was allowed to proceed to examination hall 5.

The hall was massive, with hundreds of numbered desks in neat rows. The distance
from desk to desk was exactly two meters in every direction, there was a watchful
examiner at both ends of each line and row so that at any given moment each
examinee was under the scrutiny of four pairs of eyes. On the front of every desk
was an angled mirror that would allow the examiners to see underneath the desks.

The exams for the High Academy were renown for being exaggeratedly strict, anyone
suspected of cheating would be disqualified on the spot.

Alleria, with her heart hammering in her chest realised that hers

was the desk in the front corner and she would have two examiners standing directly
over her and breathing down her neck the whole day. Feeling even more nervous than
she thought possible, she sat, placing her card in the card-holder at the edge of
the desk. There were three pens laid out on the right side of the desk for her use
next to an inkwell. She checked to see if all was in order and raised her hand to
get the examiners' attention.

Both looked down at her with steely eyes, "There's no ink in the well, sir." she
squeaked meekly.

The examiner in front of her nodded firmly towards one of the attendants who all
but flew towards them. Moments later a page that was probably her age was pouring
ink into her desk, she looked at Alleria curiously before retreating.

When all the examinee's were seated, a battalion of attendants marched in and began
distributing papers to each desk. Then all was in order and the gong rang. An
attendant tugged on a silken rope that pulled aside the heavy red curtain at the
front of the hall behind which was written today's question in large letters on a
plaque in a golden frame.

Alleria moved the paper to the correct angle, lifted the pen in her right hand,
dipped it into the inkwell and then, with very little thought or ceremony,
transferred it to her left hand.

It was a controversial topic, but Alleria was left-handed. She could write just as
well with her right hand, but it almost felt like speaking a foreign language and
now she didn't care who saw the truth.

Armed and ready, Alleria began to tackle the question.

***

Dear Mam and Da,

I never had a reason to post a letter before so I'm excited to write. I'm sorry,
this will be brief because my arm is sore and my hand is blistered from writing all
day. The second exam day is over. It was mathematics today and I know that's at
least one question I got right.

The hotel is so fancy, I have a room the size of our flat and a bed the size of my
whole bedroom. There's a big tub here too. Everything is too big. I don't like how
small it makes me feel. It's a bit lonely here, but I'm so tired in the evening I
go right to sleep. I ran into Princess Trinilly, literally ran into her. (So
embarrassing!) I also met Lady Norba of Lukenstrike in the changing room and shook
hands with the fourth son of Count Dagen.

I'm keeping safe, remembering to eat and feel weird not studying.

Love you and miss you

Alleria

=================

Chapter 10 - The Exam - Part 2

Chapter 10 - The Exam - Part 2

Alleria had noticed the Alaazian woman on the first day of the exam. It was
difficult not to notice a pure-blooded Alaazian, with her deep brown skin, her
white teeth and large eyes glowing in her face. She wore her dark hair in a puffy
cloud of misty curls and was almost hypnotically beautiful.

Some Alaazians lived in the empire as guests of the emperor, honouring the Laudax
treaty of year 28.Marinn.II. They made their lives here, a few even marrying into
imperial nobility. That was how the term "mixed Alaazian" had been created. It was
said that the darker the skin, the purer the blood.

According to the stories, in Alaaze, there were no peasants, no nobles, no kings.

Everyone was equal, and everyone, regardless of parentage, profession or gender,
were allowed to participate in the Choice for the Leader. Studies, conveniently
founded and supported by the imperial Bureaucracy, showed how such a system had
created many problems for the Republic of Alaaze.
On the evening of the fourth day of the exam, during dinnertime, the Alaazian woman
took notice of Alleria. She watched from afar at first, tall and limber in her
long, scarlet dress. Her movements fluid and cat-like, she crossed the dinning-room
with steps so graceful she appeared to glide and then stopped, standing over
Alleria's table and regarded her with intense, jasper eyes.

"May I join you?" she said with the deep, unmistakably deep, voice of a man.

Alleria had the good sense not to gape, but her eyes went rather wide with an
onslaught

of curiosity. She carefully, carefully, put down her fork. It took her a moment to
gather her wits. Sometimes things just weren't what they seemed.

"Yes, please have a seat, madam... sir?" She couldn't hide the nervousness from
entering her voice, language created boundaries, she didn't know where to place
this Alaazian, was she a woman like she looked, or was he a man like he sounded?

"Relax," the Alaazian said in a perfect City accent as he, or she, slipped into the
chair across from Alleria, "I'm not petty like other people, he, she, I answer to
both. The name's Zalee Salah."

Alleria shook Zalee's hand. Having the rules explained made it a lot easier to not
make a mistake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Salah."

"I've been anxious to chat with you for some time, little miss Bellencreek."

"Thank you," Alleria said automatically. For once, though, it was not so difficult
to make conversation, she was genuinely intrigued. "Have you lived in the empire
for long?"

"Longer than you're alive." Zalee's eyes darted to Alleria's left hand where the
side of her middle finger was bruised blue from holding the pen for hours upon
hours on end. Every examinee was sporting such bruises and blisters. "You've been
hard at work, child, but openly left-handed, do you think that's wise?"

Alleria fought the urge to take her hand away from where it rested on the table.
"Are you asking because of tomorrow's question?"

"It does make one curious why they would ask a question in theology this year of
all years."

Alleria had gotten some funny looks from people about being left-handed,

though of course that wasn't surprising. Nor were their suspicions false. In her
case, it wasn't merely superstition, she really was Demon-touched, just like the
Church taught.

"Why? Is there anything special about this year?" Alaazians weren't bound by the
restrictions laid out by the Church. They were free to indulge themselves in the
three forbidden studies: Occultism, Mysticism and the Arcane.

Zalee looked about herself, but no one was close enough to hear. She leaned in,
resting her elbows on the table in a manly gesture, but her face was still the
perfect picture of femininity. "This year is the beginning of another Verge
Period."

"A Verge Period?"

"It's when the demon world comes close, closer than it usually is. It's a dangerous
time for the Church, because that's when most people question their belief. But
it's also a dangerous time for people like you."

Suddenly urgency overtook Alleria. She had questions, many questions and here,
across from her sat someone who could answer, someone capable of unravelling the
mystery. "You know much about this?" Alleria whispered. She reached out, grasping
Zalee's hand. "Will you tell me? Please?"

Zalee bristled and pulled her hand away, straightening in her chair. Her glare was
enough to curb Alleria's excitement, "I wish to warn you, child, out of the
goodness of my heart. But I won't do this a second time, I don't do well with
babies and their grubby little hands."

Alleria leaned back into her chair, suddenly regretting her outburst. She should
have known better. In the high class, brashness was never rewarded.

She needed to be subtle, to manoeuvre carefully.

"Good girl," Zalee said. "Now listen closely. You've already exposed yourself for
what you are, you're going to be watched from now on. Running on the first
opportunity wouldn't be a bad idea."

Alleria opened her mouth to argue, but Zalee managed to silence her with a gesture.
"I realise for a young person like yourself that isn't even an option," she
continued, "so keep your eyes peeled and find a way to get the Church off your back
when you're finished with the exam tomorrow."

"They're only sentimentalist. They've got no power in the empire. The Church
wouldn't actually -"

"Oh but they would." Zalee pulled down the collar of her dress revealing three
long, pale scars along the side of her neck. Alleria knew what those were, she had
read about such scars. Her stomach turned in knots. "Don't underestimate the power
of blind belief, baby."

**

That night, Alleria could not shut down her thoughts and fall asleep. She felt
threatened, truly threatened, for the first time in her life. She tossed and turned
restlessly, her every thought leading her into a maze of dark pits filled with
vipers and maliciously whispering priests in grey robes bearing chains and knives.

Everything seemed like one big conspiracy, the false subjects, Willum's dark stare,
even Zalee Salah was part of it. What their goal was, what they hoped to achieve,
Alleria simply couldn't understand.

It was not like with the demon world. She had been surprised to learn that the
demon world didn't scare her. Yes, it called and beckoned, but she had

a choice, they could not take her against her will. The choice and the power to
continue, it was hers and hers alone.

And she would continue, even though tomorrow she was going to fail.

The Church taught that the Power had created this world, but not the Otherworld,
that was the domain of the Demon, and everything that touched it and came from
there was demonic. There was good and evil in the world, the Church preached, and
they were never combined. After giving everything form, the Power had taken the
shape of Ulundine the Owl, the good and benevolent deity.

Lavasana, a wise-woman and prophet of the distant past was His medium, and she
passed down His Teachings. During the time of the Aredmout dynasty, two thousand
years ago, the Teachings were written for the first time in the Book of Lavasana.

Alleria knew this and much more about the empire's prominent religion. She had read
about the blood Persecutions that had brought the fall of the mighty Aredmout
dynasty one thousand and five hundred years in the past. She knew of the Purging
that had occurred five hundred years later during the time of the weak Doredath
dynasty, and how, when the Vanaslid line came into power fifty bloody years later,
the Church was the one that became prosecuted.

But then, finally, came the Thelverain dynasty, bringing with it stability and
prosperity. The Church had its place, and purpose, but it was always closely
watched and scrutinised.

The imperial bureaucracy was not religious. Theology had technically always been in
the material for the exams, but a theological question had never

been asked.

Until now.

And Alleria didn't possess the kind of in-depth knowledge required to face such a
question. She did not know by heart the theological canon, she couldn't quote out
of memory the most important literature on the subject, she couldn't recall the
full script of the seven main interpreters of the Book of Lavasana. She was nothing
but an ignorant fool, a novice, a child.

***

Again the attendants distributed the paper among the examinees. The atmosphere of
tension of the past days had reached its peak today, on the fifth and final day.

The rope was pulled, the curtain drawn. Alleria looked at the plaque, it wasn't a
question, it was a verse from the Book of Lavasana:

"...Among us they walk,

Blighted children of the moonless night.

Passed back from the Otherworld

To steal thy soul for their Demon master

Beware of the Wicked, the Mystic, the Compromised

Beware of the Three-eyed, the Two-tongued, the Left-handed

In fire they shalt burn, by the sword justly slain

Thou shalt purge the Demon's mischief

Thou shalt cleanse unholy profanation

Behold the glory of the righteous

Protectors of the exalted land..."

Cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck. It wasn't a coincidence, this wasn't
a coincidence. Was it her imagination, or was one of the examiners that was
standing over her sneering? For several moments, she looked at the passage, but
couldn't move. It felt like the knife had already been stabbed into her belly and
was slowly, slowly being turned.

Alleria drew a deep breath and forced herself to calm. She picked up the pen and
dipped it in ink, angling the paper. She made to pass the pen to her left hand but
hesitated. She could hear her heartbeat drumming in her ears, the empty page swam
before her eyes. She bit down on her lip.

And began to write her discussion about the passage from the Book of Lavasana,
about the history of theological misconceptions and the newly discovered science of
genetics.

After loading her pen with ink for the third time, it had somehow made its way back
to her left hand, her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth unheeded.

She wrote.

When she finished, all those hours later, and presented the final draft of her
answer to the attendant who sprinkled powder on the ink to make it dry, she felt a
tinge of regret. She had failed the exam.

But at least...

At least she had said her piece. In that fleeting moment she had expressed herself
as a person, as a scholar.

Even if it was all a dream doomed to die.

=================

Chapter 11 - Date

Chapter 11 - Date

That evening, the air was sweet, warm and clear as Alleria waited outside the
hotel's entrance for Mr. Malluri's car. She removed her dove-grey cardigan and hung
it over her shoulders like she had seen the other high-class girls do. Even though
the conversation with Zalee still worried her, and what she had written for the
final question made her apprehensive, she felt a wave of relief.

That is, until she saw her reflection in the tinted window of a car parked in front
of her. Quillic had taught her how to put her hair up into a presentable knot, her
brand new tan-coloured shirt-dress with pointed bottle-green collar looked very
handsome and made her seem almost willowy. But her face was drawn and anxious and
she wasn't even wearing a hint of a smile. She looked much older than she
remembered herself to be.

Where was that cheerful girl who vowed to live life fully? Had Alleria, in fact,
forgotten her at her village?

A sudden breeze picked up, blowing errant strands of hair that had escaped the knot
into Alleria's eyes. It carried with it the smell of damp green darkness, moss-
covered earth, cedar and pine. And then, all at once, she was homesick. She missed
the pastures, the forest, the river and the pond. She missed her friends, her
freedom, the old gossiping grannies and the little musty library behind the church.
Callivar had been exciting at first, but it became an uncomfortably dangerous
place.

Why was she even doing this? She couldn't remember anymore.

A familiar figure got out of a nearby car, blond hair ruffling in the breeze,

Cassel waved at her. When he said he'd pick her up after the exam, he actually
meant it.

"Miss Bellencreek?"

She turned at the sound of her name, surprised to come face to face with Lord Salem
Dagen. He looked properly ruffled, as if he had been thrown into a sack and tossed
about. His longish brown hair was standing in several odd directions, his shirt was
buttoned irregularly, only half tucked into his trousers and his collar was
strained with ink and overturned. He wore no belt and he was missing a sock
although he did have both shoes on. There was ink all over his palms, as if he had
tried to wash his hands in it. "What happened...?" she spoke before thinking, then
realised she was talking to a nobleman. "My lord, what happened to you?"

He rubbed his forehead, then looked down at himself as if only now noticing the
state he was in. He made no attempt to straighten himself out. "I either failed
spectacularly," he whispered looking off into the distance, "or I made First
Paramount."

He shook his head and then staggered back, leaning against a nearby lamppost. "Am I
bragging? Is this bragging?" he passed a shaking hand through his messy hair.

Alleria felt sorry for him. He didn't seem like an arrogant person, and looked very
rattled from his own success. "Even if you were bragging, my lord," she said, "the
effect would've been ruined because you look like you've squabbled with an inkwell
and maybe a few pens."

"Squabbled? Squabbled with a...?" He gazed at his ink-stained hands, opening and
closing his palms as if he were surprised to find that

he actually had fingers. Then, what must have been at least fifteen seconds later
he started laughing hysterically. "Squabbled... with... an... ink...well..."

Alleria fished her handkerchief out from her purse, handing it to Dagen who by now
had tears of mirth spilling down his cheeks. She felt embarrassed to be watching a
grown man have a meltdown. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Cassel making
surly faces at her but decided to ignore him. You didn't just excuse yourself and
walk away from Count Dagen's fourth son while it was in the midst of a nervous
breakdown.

Dagen automatically took the offered handkerchief and wiped his streaming eyes,
smearing ink all over his face until the only spot that wasn't blue was the tip of
his nose. Alleria bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

He looked at her ruined handkerchief in his hand and then back at her. "Thank you
for this, Miss Bellencreek. I was dazed, I don't really know how I got here after
the exam was over." Then he smacked himself on the forehead. "I'm sorry, I seem to
have misplaced my manners."
"And also one of your socks, your belt and your jacket, my lord." Alleria offered
what she hoped was a kind smile.

He laughed, "Those too. How did you do?"

Her face fell, words failed to be uttered. She couldn't even say it. Upon noticing
her expression, he sighed, patting her on the back. "You can't know for sure until
the results are in," he said, but she simply shook her head at his words. She knew,
there was no excusing what she had tried to do with the last question.

Dagen seemed to accept her quiet lament.

"This was my third time," he said gently. "I tried when I was eighteen, and again
when I was twenty-two and now... now I think I got it right. But as a lad I
wasn't... I wasn't even nearly as remarkable as you."

"I'm not remarkable, my lord."

"The world begs to differ," he said. "You're meant for this. Don't lose sight of
your dream, Miss Bellencreek."

Alleria didn't know how anyone could judge what anyone was meant for. She didn't
know what her dream was anymore. What was she losing sight of? The question
circulated in her head over and over as she heard herself bid farewell to Dagen and
then she was somehow inside the car, sitting next to a sulking Cassel.

***

hey stopped on the side of the road. Alleria looked out her window, then looked out
the other window. There was nothing but fields on both sides. Up ahead, Callivar
was still distant lights on the horizon.

"Are you wondering why we stopped?" Cassel asked.

"I don't mind stopping," Alleria said flatly.

"Hello Cassel," said Cassel. "How have you been this past week, Cassel? Are you
well? How's your mother? Stepdad noticed you yet? No? You were so chatty with big-
nose there, but you've got nothing to say to me? Nothing at all?"

"What? Are you...? Is this a tantrum?"

"It certainly is!"

"Lord Dagen doesn't have a big nose," Alleria said, feeling cross.

"All Dagens have big noses. Theirs is the special-est royal-est case of ginormous
nose-hood. And anyway, speaking of that. Stay away from him, in some countries in
the world he's old enough to be your father."

"What? He's only twenty-six."

She felt utterly shocked. "And we were only talking. Why would you be angry at me
just for having talked to someone? That's ridiculous!"

"Maybe you were talking to him. But he was flirting with you."

"That is wrong on so many levels."

"Tell me about it!"

She lost it. "Cassel, calm down, will you?" she squeaked, feeling suddenly so
frustrated she was ready to explode. "What's gotten into you? If you think so
little of me to assume -"

Then he kissed her. It wasn't like that creepy little kiss that had happened all
those months ago. It wasn't like the innocent kisses she had shared with Bran. It
was like nothing she experienced before.

Awkward and unsynchronised at first, they collided, grappling and wrestling, until
they were suddenly connected. Warm, moist and rushing, he slid his arms round her
waist, pulling her against him, deepening the kiss. At first she was numb with
warmth and shock, but then her hands moved on their own, her arms wrapping round
his neck. She had wanted to hold him too.

He broke away, only to trace soft kisses down the side of her neck. "'Leria," he
whispered her name, and then again: "'Leria."

He was going too low. "Cassel," she scolded, pulling slightly away. He raised his
head with a grin. Laughing, he kissed her lips again and again. He took the hair-
clip out of her hair and brushed his fingers through it until she was almost
purring and her hair-do was properly wrecked.

"Want to be my girlfriend?" Cassel asked softly, beaming.

"I thought I already was."

He laughed.

***

"Where are we going?"

Alleria asked as Cassel drove them through the narrow, bumpy streets of Callivar.
It felt odd to see all the now-familiar places from the other side of the exam.

"To eat. I'm hungry and you're too skinny."

"Cassel, we need to talk," Alleria said, trying not to feel self-conscious about
the fact that she was too skinny in his eyes. "I think I made a big mistake at the
exam, I failed, and I'm an idiot."

"You make a brilliant idiot," said Cassel. "We'll talk all about it during dinner."

"But -"

"Do you like spicy? There's an Alaazian place -"

Alleria made a noise that was somewhere between a squeal and a whimper.

"Ok, not Alaazian then, how about -"

"Cassel, shut up for just one second and listen to me." She drew a deep breath, if
she were Cassel, she wouldn't have taken herself seriously either. "The Church may
be after my life."

Cassel hit the breaks so suddenly Alleria nearly hurtled into the windshield. He
turned to her, grasping her chin and tilting her head to the side, then the other
searching her neck for any cut-marks. "Ok. Don't panic."

"I'm not panicking."

"I'm talking to myself," he said. He muttered curses under his breath. "Tell me,
how were you found out?"

"I'm left-handed." Alleria confessed after a moment of silence.

"Yes, of course," Cassel sounded bitter again, like he did when he talked about his
Encounter. "Of course."

"What will they do to me? I thought those cuts are just a baseless ritual."

"It's an accurate test. It reveals demonic possession. They make three incisions in

specific points on the side of your neck and bleed you out until you're a thread
away from death."

She had known as much. It was preposterous to think there were people in the Church
who still performed it today. "So then what, if I've Encountered, the demon comes?"

"Yes, and then they let you die."

They sat for some time in silence. There was no sound but the motor's hum. This was
not a good place to have such a conversation. Although no other car had come down
the street, they were blocking the road.

"But what are demons Cassel? What does it mean?"

"Demons are demons, just like people are people."

Alleria mulled over his answer. There was not much she could do with that. She was
searching for a loophole, a way out. "There isn't anything inherently wrong about
being left-handed."

"Wrong? No, not wrong. You're very slightly different. It's this difference that
pulled the Individual to you. It's why you ended up... it's why you aren't like
me."

And here they were, Cassel was willing. He would tell her bit by bit about who he
was, and then, knowing this, she would finally understand him.

"People forget you," Alleria said gently.

"If I even manage to make them notice. It takes all of me just to get them to
notice I exist."

"When did it happen?"

Cassel rested his head against the steering wheel. "When I was ten. I was spirited
away by the Many. They took me in and sucked me dry until the Authora fished me
out. I didn't know how long I lived there by her side, but an occultist summoned me
back to this world. There isn't enough

human left in me to make a lasting impression. My mum remembers I'm back whenever
I'm within her sight and then believes that I'm gone when I'm not. Mr. Malluri
doesn't know I exist. It's safe to say I'm a ghost."
Questions burned down her throat, riddles stampeded through her head. It wouldn't
be right to ask him to tell her everything. Not now, not yet.

She edged closer, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his
shoulder. He stiffened at first and then the mother of all sighs escaped him as he
melted into her embrace.

***

After driving aimlessly through the city streets, they finally settled for what
Cassel said was the best pie-shop in town. Clutching oily brown paper bags with
steaming pies that smelled of roasted vegetables, beef and a hint of cumin, they
sat to eat on the cold stone steps of an abandoned workshop in the artisans'
quarter. They were not far from the bright and colourful Illuda pedestrian street
and the Garmidos market. At this hour, the quarter was alive with young revellers
and older folks enjoying the pungent spring air.

They talked and talked, forgetting themselves in one another's company. There
seemed to be a lot to say in between important plans and speculations about the
future. Alleria knew that somewhere under the glamour of a new romance there were
grave and serious troubles that had to be considered. But for now, she was lost in
the freedom of being young.

Time reasserted itself at the chime and clamour of the church-bells all about the
city. It had somehow become elven o'clock and her parents were bound to have grown
worried by now. The drive home seemed unusually short and before long, Alleria
found herself standing with Cassel outside the gate to her building.

He kissed her goodnight but would still not let go of her hand even when she tried
to pull it away. "Cassel?"

"Can I keep your hand?" He was so good at the puppy act it was almost shameful.

"I think I may need my hand."

"Of course, of course." He nodded with a small smile, but still would not let go.

"You're the mushy type?"

"Bad boy, womaniser and mushy."

Alleria sighed, firmly pulling her hand out of his unyielding grasp and using it to
pet his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow." She lifted her chin up and lightly kissed
his lips before turning away.

"Oh Cassel?" She looked back at him after walking a pace or two, smiling. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, but what for?"

"Would it be very mushy to say that I'm thankful you exist?"

His eyes looked round in his face and although it was dark, Alleria was gratified
with the knowledge that she had made him blush. "Extraordinarily mushy," he
mumbled.

"In that case, never-mind and good-night."

"Good-night."
He didn't move from that spot and seemed to watch her leave. Even as she mounted
the stairs high enough to see over the gate, he was still standing there as if
turned to stone. She wondered if he was following her with his eyes. Would he later
return to the Malluri mansion to be forgotten by whomever sees him or speaks with
him? A flesh-and-blood ghost gliding through glimmering halls, alone.

=================

Chapter 12 - And All Became Dark

Chapter 12 - And All Became Dark

Alleria warmed her hands over a large mug of tea even though her fingers weren't
cold. Da had made his special pancakes for breakfast. Over a checkered red and
white tablecloth the table was set with little bowls filled with pieces of fruit or
whipped cream or chocolate syrup to spread and sprinkle over the pancakes.

The stage was set for celebration, but the mood was wrong. Her parents had already
sensed the peril, they began chatting loudly amongst themselves, exaggerating their
cheerfulness to eclipse her gloom.

Last night, she had been swept away in the magic of falling for Cassel. She had
been basking in the glittering wonder of a new discovery that had made all her
troubles seem light and far. But the morning, although gloriously bright, found her
with a heavy heart.

She had taken the exam, and failed.

On top of that, the Church was after her. The more she tried to find a way out of
that situation, the more hopeless it seemed. She would have to run away, she would
have to leave her dreams and hopes behind and go into hiding. All her fault. All
because of yet another mistake. She hadn't known. Her left-handedness had never
truly been an issue before.

Everyone in the village knew she had been spirited away and had come back. No one
considered it bad, no one had held it against her.

They just refrained from talking about it, ever.

"Don't be mad at Mr. Malluri anymore," Alleria finally said weakly. "I would have
failed anyway."

"You can't know that for certain, the results aren't out yet," Mam

argued.

"Have some faith in my daughter, 'Lerry," Da said with a smile.

She had already known that they would say that, her parents were so predictable.
But, somehow, it was strangely reassuring. "There's something I need to tell you,"
she began. They both looked at her, giving her their undivided attention. Words
clogged her throat and she choked. While the world could ignore and disregard her,
at least her parents always listened. They each had the things they loved and
hated, they were as good and bad as all adults. But she always got the feeling that
she was in the centre of their hearts.
And they'd be sick with worry if they knew that there was actual danger. No one
talked about that night when she was ten, least of all her parents. Their way to
cope with it having happened to their precious daughter was to behave as if it
hadn't. She wasn't one to lie to them, she knew it was stupid to keep it from them.
But her heart was too swollen up with emotions. She started to cry.

Da jumped to his feet making the table clatter. He was always finicky when Alleria
cried. Mam edged across and hugged her.

"It's alright, love," Da said, coming round the table and taking her hand since Mam
was already doing the hugging. "You can tell us."

It was some time before Alleria could control herself enough to utter anything
coherent. "I just wish I was back home. I know I sound spoilt, and I don't mean to
be complaining, but I'm just... I'm just so tired."

Mam and Da exchanged a knowing glance. "Then you know what?" Da said gently, "Maybe
we should move back to the countryside."

Alleria

was surprised right out of her misery. Obviously, her parents had discussed this,
had even been plotting it for some time. She didn't think they'd actually consider.

"'Leria, you don't owe anything to anyone. You don't have to try so hard to prove
yourself. You've given up your childhood, but we know who you really are and we're
proud of you."

She blinked, looking from Mam to Da and wiped the remaining tears from her face
with the backs of her hands. "But...you've always wanted to live in the city, Mam.
And Da, you said you liked your new office."

"If I'm completely honest with you," Mam said, "I do miss the countryside."

"What do you want?" Da asked.

What did she want? Would it be so wrong give up? To leave Callivar? That could
certainly help get the Church off her back. They couldn't go back to her village,
but there were many similar places all over the empire. She was old enough to
apprentice for something, maybe she'd become an imperial Hand like her parents and
write imperial documents in the emperor's handwriting her whole life, or maybe
she'd become something important like a doctor or a midwife, a job that would
require both knowledge and action. She could be with people her age, and perhaps
Cassel would agree to come with them. It wasn't as if he had to live at Mr.
Malluri's.

The idea felt wrong, but also appealing in its own way.

She had dreamt, she had planned and hoped to become a scholar, to become an advisor
for the emperor. But would that really make her a more meaningful person? Was it
even possible to change something as huge

as an entire empire? Maybe the most she could hope for was to slowly and carefully
touch individual lives.

A long time passed and Alleria said nothing. Mam smiled knowingly, "You don't have
to answer right away, love. Even if we decide to leave Callivar, it will be a
couple of months before we could."

***

"I can't leave Callivar, not for long, anyway." Cassel said later that day as they
sat side by side on a bench overlooking the Mayurno river.

"Why not?"

"Remember the occultist who brought me back? Well, he bound me to him. That means
I'll have to go back to him every now and then, otherwise I'll fall back into the
Otherworld."

"What happens if he unbinds you?"

"I don't know. You get saved from hell, you don't ask questions. Even this... this
way is better than her." He leaned over and kissed the side of Alleria's neck.
"Here, I have so much. I see so much. I can grow and I have you."

He laid his head against her shoulder and she tangled her fingers through his thick
blond hair. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They were each caught in
their own snarl of dark thoughts.

"Was the Authora terrible?"

Instantly, he pulled away, his shoulders slouching forward. "As terrible as

poisoned honey. She's bright and beautiful, like any one of the Individuals, filled
with candlelight and music and those hidden meanings that make you feel curious.
But Individuals hate her. She wants them on beck and call, and they fight her off
like the pest that she is. I heard a rumour that she was human once, a very long
time ago. It's hard

to believe, except for the fact that Individuals change their shape but the Authora
is always a woman."

Alleria had more questions to ask, more things she wanted to know. "I feel
depressed now," he complained, angrily ruffling his own hair with both his hands
before turning to her. "You're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you," she said.

"How do you know?"

"I don't want us to separate."

Cassel smirked and cupped her face, kissing her. After a while he pulled away,
looking up at the river. "Don't you find it strange that she stopped calling you?"

"Does that worry you?"

"A little. I don't know what worries me more." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe you should tell Malluri about the Church."

"I have a meeting with him this evening. Do you think he knows already? Something's
the matter. I could almost hear Minsuit sweating over the telephone this morning."

"What has the world come to? 'Leria has used the telephone yet again!"

"I dialled and everything. But more importantly, Cassel," - Alleria gave him a
serious stare - "do you know what's going on?"

"Don't worry, it has nothing to do with you. Rich men and their rich troubles. I'll
take you there later."

***

There were several strange cars parked outside the Malluri mansion. Alleria knew
next to nothing about cars, though these were all black and expensive looking. It
was odd for her benefactor to have guests at this time. Money didn't actually give
people freedom, they were bound by so many rules and restrictions that it was

almost surprising anyone ever yearned to become rich. Malluri's friends, who
weren't actually real friends, would never arrive without having planned it in
advance and without a particular cause in mind.

Alleria walked ahead with Cassel behind her, she began mounting the marble stairs
when a tall, dark, figure stepped in ahead of her, blocking her path. Her breath
caught in her throat before she realised who it is.

Willum looked odd, his face was pale and drawn, there were dark circles underneath
his eyes and his hair stuck out from his forehead in a way that suggested he had
ruffled it many times. His eyes were steely cold, though, and he glared darkly at
her through his wire-framed spectacles.

"You, least of all people, should be here." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper
but closer to a hiss.

"Minsuit said -"

"You're slow," Willum said in a flat voice. Alleria would have thought he sounded
bored if she could disregard how angry he looked. "Haven't you figured Minsuit out
already? Oh, that fink says many things, to many, many people."

"The Church -?"

"Priests are here, right now, but not for you. Not explicitly." Willum passed her,
and began walking down the stairs. He pulled keys out of his pocket. "I'm taking
you home."

Alleria looked back, searching for Cassel, but he had vanished. She wondered if as
a demon-touched boy he had a mystical power that allowed him to disappear, or he
was just talented at sneaking away. "Who are they here for, if not for me?" she
hurried to follow Willum, lowering her voice to nearly a whisper.

"There's

a known occultist operating in the empire. The Church has been given sanction to
act, so they act as they see fit." They approached the same car that Cassel had
used to bring Alleria here. Did Cassel have a copy of the keys? Did Willum know
that it went missing on occasion?

Willum was already inside the car turning the key in the ignition, Alleria hurried
into the seat at his side, slamming the door. "And what does that mean?" she asked.

"The only way to find an occultist -"

"Is with an exorcist," Alleria completed the sentence suddenly feeling numb. There
shouldn't be any exorcists in the world, not after what people had been subjected
to. The Purging had cost many innocent lives and had threatened to bring the entire
empire to ruin. Exorcisms were as illegal as occult rituals and arcane lore. But
unlike the other forbidden knowledges, exorcists wrote in blood and spoke in pain,
they prospered through torment and thrived on death.

"You know, so why behave like you don't?" Willum's hands were stiff and white on
the steering wheel as the electric gate slowly rolled open before them. Alleria
noticed movement from the corner of her eye and turned her head to find Cassel in
the back seat. He pressed his finger to his lips. Shhh...

But then, through the rear window, she saw that several people had come out of the
mansion. Men in long deep-grey billowing robes trotting down the marble stairs -
priests.

She ducked into her seat and out of view. Willum noticed her behaviour, his gaze
flashing to the rearview mirror and then fixing again on the painstakingly slow
gate. Neither

of them spoke, Alleria held her breathe.

The priests had noticed them, they began running towards the car. The first priest
began banging on Willum's window. Willum pursed his lips and pressed his foot down
on gas. The car darted forward, passing through an opening in the gate barely large
enough to admit them. They turned with a screech of tires and sped down the road.

Several streets later, Alleria let go of the breath she had been holding.

They didn't speak until they were well away.

"I didn't know there was an imperial decree to give power to the Church, I wouldn't
have written the exam with my left hand if I did."

"You're behaving like a baby. You think the whole world is a dollhouse." Willum was
one of those people who didn't need to shout to sound mad. He used cold-cutting
tones that were so dry and level Alleria felt she was being skinned alive. "Go
home, lock the door, don't let strangers in. The danger is never over. Keep all
your secrets in a locked box on the highest shelf out of reach forever."

"How would you know about danger?" Alleria dug her fingers into the leather of the
seat. She felt frightened, but also peculiar, like none of this was real. "What are
you, Willum?"

"I'm no devil-spawn, if that's what you're thinking."

"I didn't ask what you weren't, I asked what you are."

Willum stopped the car, they were outside her building. He turned to glare at her.
"Get out," he commanded.

She wanted to refuse, she wanted to argue, but she just didn't. The moment Alleria
closed the door of the car, it drove off and was

gone. She blinked after it, that had happened eerily fast.

Trudging over towards the blue gate, Alleria fumbled with her keys. The small
pedestrian door in the gate had been left ajar, probably old Mrs. Grupper who had
trouble remembering most things these days forgot to close it. Alleria made sure to
slam it closed behind her before crossing the courtyard and mounting the stairs to
their attic flat.
She unlocked the door and turned on the hall light, her parents still hadn't come
home from work, which was rare. She looked at the clock on the wall, they should
have been here by now, but sometimes there were urgent documents that had to be
written, sometimes there were administrative meeting in the Hand office that ran
late into the night. She hung her keys on the key-rack by the door and her purse on
the coatrack and made for her room, not bothering to turn on the living room light.

Her shoe crunched on something on the floor. She looked down at pieces of broken
porcelain, even in the poor light she recognised that gold rim and rose pattern -
Mam's fancy tea-set.

"Mam? Da?" Alleria cried.

It was foolish, she knew they weren't home.

She knew they weren't home, but there were other people in the flat with her.

Someone turned off the light in the hall, just as someone else came into the living
room from the kitchen. The living room window overlooking the courtyard was open.
Alleria ran to it, "HELP!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, bracing herself
against the window-frame. "SOMEONE! HELP ME!"

She was pulled back by her throat with such force that

she was halfway across the room and on her knees in less than a second. She
struggled to get to her feet when the invisible attacker let go of her throat only
to clutch her wrists and pull her arms back. "Tie it tightly," said a man's high,
yet calm voice in the darkness. "It's no matter if you damage its skin."

"No!" Alleria cried, she could barely move against the man's grip as he wound a
stiff corn round her wrists. She had no strength of her own. "Don't do this!
Please! I'm only a girl, I've done nothing wrong."

"Don't listen to it," the owner of the voice was so calm, speaking as if it were
instructing on how to fix an ant problem. "Demons always lie."

"I'm not a demon."

"Lies," said the man. He strolled into her line of sight, a tall, lean figure in
the darkness. He walked closer, and then crouched down so that his face was level
with hers. He wasn't old, or ugly, or even vicious looking. He was the sort of man
you'd find working as a clerk in the bank, or perhaps an advocate or an accountant.
He had a professional air about him, and examined her like an architect examines
cracks in an old building.

The exorcist.

"Gag her," he commanded.

A crash and a bang coming from the hallway made the exorcist look up in annoyance.
The man tying her bonds stiffened. People were shouting - how many of them were in
the flat? With the sound of splinting furniture, something came careening into the
living room that was suddenly bathed in warm, flickering, yellow candlelight.

The exorcist clicked his tongue and rose.

"Alleria!" Cassel called from a distance. She looked left and right, but couldn't
see the source of the light or the source of the voice anywhere. The man holding
her grunted and released her, she could feel Cassel's hands helping her to her
feet.

"Cassel -?"

"Hurry! I can't hold... I'm too weak." Cassel's invisible hand gave her a shove
towards the door.

A flash of silver, the exorcist pulled out a small knife. He passed the blade along
the centre of his palm, his brows knit with concentration. Then he made a fist out
of his cut palm and allowed his blood to drip down toward the floor. But the
droplets of blood never reached the floor, they each began to glow, a pinpoint of
reddish light, and hovered in the air. Then, one after the other, they gathered
forming a circle of red light that opened wider and wider until it encompassed the
whole room.

"Destroy." commanded the exorcist. The circle tightened, closing in and wherever it
passed, the candlelight vanished.

Cassel screamed.

And screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

It was the sort of scream one revisited in nightmares, the kind of sound that even
time and experience can't make you forget. Alleria felt as if her heart would burst
out of her throat, all the blood in her body seemed to stop at her stomach as her
bones shook to the tune of Cassel's pain.

Then, it stopped.

On the floor beside her, in the wreckage that had once been her family's living
room, the prone and crumpled body of a boy blinked into existence.

Now, Alleria screamed.

But hers was a short-lived scream, for her downed attacker had risen again. He
choked at her throat from behind.

And all became dark.Author's Note: POOR CASSEL! T.T

=================

Chapter 13 - Face to Face With Death

Chapter 13 - Face to Face With Death

Rising. Alleria was rising through a clinging blanket of thick dream-like

blackness. Incoherent thoughts chased one another in a stomach-tumbling sequence.
And then all at once - feelings. Confused, numb, in pain, afraid, sad.

Cassel's face was inches from hers.

She was lying in a mess of jagged broken things upon the living room floor. It was
dark save for some light coming in from the kitchen. She was gagged and she assumed
her legs were tied too because she couldn't move them.
Cassel's eyes stared ahead, glassy and empty. His mouth was slightly agape, his
skin looked ashen and waxy. His blond hair fell across his forehead in a way that,
if she could, she would have brushed it aside so it wouldn't tickle his eye.

He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. He was dead.

Dead.

Alleria couldn't turn her head to look away and it shamed her that she wanted to.
Even through the tears that filled her eyes she could still see his face and know
that it was vacant of him. The empty shell that was Cassel was sickening, it was
nothing but Cassel-shaped flesh.

She was hauled up and slung over someone's shoulder as if she were no more than a
rolled-up carpet. Tears continued to drop out of her eyes. With the gag in her
mouth, she wanted to vomit. Instead, she tried to wriggle around to see who her
captors were. Including the one holding her and excluding the exorcist, there were
half-a-dozen men. If they were priests, she couldn't tell, they had all abandoned
the church regalia for simple black clothes.

For such a large group, they walked silently, marching down the building stairs
without alerting the neighbours. She wondered if someone had heard her scream for
help earlier. Had they feared coming for her aid or were they otherwise somehow
detained?

She wondered where her parents were.

Cassel's green eyes glimmering as lifelessly as crystals.

She prayed to whomever would listen that her parents hadn't been harmed.

They bodily threw her into the back of a black van parked outside the building, the
jarring impact made the gag dig into the corners of her lips, filling her mouth
with blood. She hadn't seen this van when she went inside, but she hadn't been
looking. She didn't suspect they'd come after her in her own home.

"The danger is never over."

Willum was right, she was a fool and Cassel had paid for that. She wondered what
happened to a part-demon soul after death, where would it go? Were there even
really souls? Or was it a lie, like everything else?

The door of the van closed with a metal bang pitching Alleria into total darkness.
Was she a demon then? Was she evil? If so, what was evil?

Cassel dead.

That was evil. That was wrong. The van vibrated beneath her as it rolled over the
lumpy cobbled streets. The blood in her mouth tasted salty. Her arms were numb and
her wrists burned, the shoulder she was lying on hurt but if she moved she'd fall
on her face.

An unmeasurable amount of time passed. The road was smooth now, they were no longer
in Callivar. The endless discomforts were't recognisable anymore, she could not
distinguish

what hurt. Pain was a monotonous drone as consistent as the hum of the van's motor.

A lock of blond hair falling across his forehead, she wished she could move it
aside.

Did anyone find Cassel's body by now? Would anyone recognise him? Will his mother
finally come to realise he had been by her side all these years, or was she going
to forget his death like she forgot his life?

Waiting for her outside the seminary with his hands in his pockets

The way he beamed at her when she gave him her green muffler.

Blond hair ruffling in the spring breeze.

Oh Cassel. Cassel.

***

The van stopped, but for a very long time, there was nothing but the darkness and
her ragged breaths. Alleria couldn't stop shivering. A deep, primal fear had risen
up through her body, she was hardened and tense, her heartbeat raced, drumming
loudly in her ears.

She held back a scream.

The door opened. The cord tying her ankles was cut, the sudden return of blood-flow
made her feet feel prickly and icy. She was told to walk.

Still nighttime, outside there was a windy field and an inky sky heavy with stars.
She was led across a gravel driveway and down several stone steps, towards a small
shadowy building that was little more than a metal door rising up from the ground.
The door was opened to reveal more stairs.

Alleria was led below ground. There were only two men with her now, she couldn't
make out their faces. They escorted her in silence. The stairs ended in a chilly
corridor. They walked on, passing a row of metal doors. The last of these doors was
opened,

she was pushed inside.

A dank, dimly-lit cell. It smelled of urine and metal, and the sweet, fleshy odour
of rotting meat. In the centre was a stone table heavily stained with old, brown
blood. There were four black leather cuffs fixed into each of its corners.

She knew what was going to happen.

The cords holding her wrists were slashed, they had been too tight, it felt like
they were being torn out from her skin.

She was prodded in the direction of the table.

They were going to cut her, and bleed her, and kill her.

No.

She screamed over the gag, trying to pull her arms out of the mens' grips. She
kicked her feet and pulled all her weight away from the table. Like a cat
struggling to stay out of the bath, a captured animal, she was all instinct and
violence.

Alleria had good height for a girl, but aside from that, she was only a bony,
bookish child. Even as she fought as hard as she could, they dragged her to the
table effortlessly. They hauled her atop it, each pinning down an arm and tightly
fastening her injured wrists with the leather cuffs. Her legs would not stop
kicking, but only one of the men let out an annoyed grunt as they both flattened
her feet to the stone and fastened her ankles as well.

It was over. The men left the room.

Alleria watched the door, thoughts chasing through her mind like a frightening
flock of birds.

A short moment later, the exorcist flanked by three robe-clad priests entered. He
looked tired and nervous, but again radiating that professional air of someone who
was doing nothing more than giving a tour of the building.

"...This one we just brought in not ten minutes ago. Left-handed with documented
accounts of demonic dealings and fraternising with a known homosexual," he
explained to his colleagues as they spread out around the stone table, like a
doctor doing the rounds in a hospital. "I suggest we perform its exorcism first
because the vessel is somewhat a person of note."

"Who is she?" asked a balding priest with a pointed nose. Alleria noted how his
small, watery eyes looked her up and down and how displeased he seemed to be at
what he saw.

"Before demonic influence, it was a girl of common birth, a prodigy-child that had
won the attention of people above her station. We uncovered its nature through
reports of it writing the exams for the High Academy with its left hand."

The balding man looked her over once more. "The High Academy? Her? What peculiar
things do the youth of today get to. Whoever financed such an ambitious attempt?"

"One Alesso Malluri," the exorcist answered with contempt.

"Malluri!" cried the priestess standing on Alleria's left. She was younger than the
first, and had sharp blue eyes that radiated command. She curled her fingers into
fists. "Johannes, we have discussed this. It is too early to take on the big sharks
now. You will get this project buried before it's even underway."

"DO NOT SPEAK MY NAME IN ITS PRESENCE!" the exorcist bellowed his face red with
rage. He drew several deep breaths to curb his anger and when he spoke next, his
tone was poisonous. "This one is unlike the others. The danger this demon poses,
the damage it can inflict, is beyond comprehension. If

we are unable to achieve this, we are naught and we are nothing."

"Do explain, exorcist, how killing this vessel will aid in finding the occultist?"
The third of the priests was, in fact, another priestess. She stood out of sight at
Alleria's feet. By the depth of her voice she didn't sound young, and her accent
had an easy lilt, indicating that she was not from Callivar.

Johannes - Alleria didn't know if this was the exorcist's surname or first name -
did not hide his distaste towards the priestess, but nevertheless answered: "Even
among the ones we call Individual, there are different levels of demons. The
stronger ones leave barely a trace on the vessel making detection nearly
impossible, but their influence is dire for our world. Yet the safety of our
children is not all, demons like these are the greatest weapons in the hands of our
enemy. If the occultist gets ahold of this one here, there will be no stopping
him."
"If this demon is as powerful as you say it is, how have you trapped it so easily?"
the older priestess inquired.

"The vessel is still young, it is yet incapable of wielding its power."

"Priestess Seppira, remove the gag, please," commanded the priestess. "I'm curious
to know what this vessel has to say for itself."

The younger priestess - Seppira - hurried to obey. "Wait, that is inadvisable,"

Johannes said. "It will lie to you and test your faith, selling you the innocence
of a young girl."

"Surely, dear exorcist, you don't consider my faith fickle?" With the gentle
clicking of her boots upon the stone floor, the older

priestess walked round the table to stand near Johannes. She was a handsome woman
rich in years with shortly cropped white hair. She wore the grey robe of priesthood
as if it were a gown made of silk and gold-thread. Besides her regal air, there was
but one thing to indicate her station.

At her throat hung the Eye of Lavasana, a crystal dagger that marked the Oracle
Asrah, the one who speaks with Ulundine, the Owl-God. Though there had not been a
true prophecy since the time of Lavasana herself - the legend, or religious lore,
proclaimed that a day would come when Ulundine will deliver His word anew.

The position of Oracle was always held by a woman who was deemed wise, and in terms
of power, she was only second to the Revered Candle-bearer, head of the Church.

Johannes glared at the Oracle and then looked pointedly at Seppira who reached out
and began to untie the knot holding the gag in place. Alleria lifted her head
slightly, determined that the priestess would touch her as little as possible.
After a moment of fumbling, she breathed out in relief when the cloth gag was
removed from her mouth. She had to open and close her jaws several times before the
pain subsided.

"Have you a name, girl?" asked the Oracle.

"Your holiness, I must warn you -" began Johannes, but was silenced by a glare.

"What did you do to my parents? Did you hurt them?" Alleria demanded hoarsely. The
thought of them being subjected to similar treatment enraged her.

The oracle looked at the exorcist quizzically, he rolled his eyes in reply
indicating that the answer was obvious. "We do not

harm the innocent, girl," said the Oracle. "Those who are human have nothing to
fear."

"You believe I'm not human? You believe I'm dangerous?"

"Conversing with it is futile, your holiness," Johannes protested, tapping his foot
impatiently.

Alleria fought against her bonds, she refused to acknowledge the exorcist, her
attention was solely on the Oracle. Surely if someone could see the madness in this
situation, it would be her. "How long have you been killing people you think are
demonic? Was the world about to end before you did? The only one who's killing
children is him."
Johannes sighed and looked coldly at her, his face was stiff and wooden. She was a
thing in his eyes, and it was a great inconvenience for him that she was capable of
speech. "You speak of that creature back there, demon? An abstraction, it wasn't
even of your kind, not even worth mentioning."

"HE WAS A PERSON!" Alleria cried, bile rising in her throat and tears welling in
her eyes. "YOU MURDERED HIM!"

"What does she refer to, Johannes?" asked the Oracle, frowning deeply.

"Nothing but a wraith that barely even had form. I'm surprised it held at all
without dissipating. I believe this demon's power sustained it, not unlike a remora
clinging to a shark."

"I see." To Alleria's dismay, the Oracle appeared to be satisfied. "I agree it is
rather daunting that she is ignorant to her own nature. It creates quite the
paradox for us, doesn't it? For in her mind, she is innocent and indeed, she is yet
to commit any evil."

"Please, your holiness, I'm not evil. I wish to become a scholar, to help people."
Even in Alleria's own ears, her words sounded childish and feeble. "Don't do this."

"Yes, you must think we're the evil ones. I can see that," said the Oracle
thoughtfully. "But we are left with no choice. This is not the first such ceremony
I've witnessed, demons are real and terrible. They are a true threat to mankind. If
you are truly an innocent child, you will live through this trial, I promise."

The oracle retreated, taking a seat somewhere out of Alleria's sight. Hope for
salvation crumbled in an instant, replaced by a bleakness that was more frightening
than the small knife the exorcist wielded.

"Commence," ordered the Oracle of Asrah.

Author's Note: This was a sad chapter to write and my dear readers, I hope you're
still hanging on. Don't forget to vote and share your thoughts in the comments!

=================

Chapter 14 - On Your Knees

Chapter 14 - On Your Knees

Alleria knew that it would be pointless to struggle, and yet when the exorcist came
near, she squirmed and bucked, pulling against the leather straps that held her
limbs in place. Seppira pushed down her head, pressing her ear and cheek against
the cold stone tabletop. Johannes drew three black marks on the side of her neck
with a blunt pen.

"The demon possesses the vessel in three channels of occult energy that pass
through the physical body," the exorcist explained in a dry, calming, scholarly
tone. Alleria wondered if the explanation was for the Oracle's sake, or for the
priests - or was it for her? "The energetic bonds run through the bloodstream. To
successfully cut them, one must disturb the whole body's balance. The procedure's
goal is to trigger the eventual emergence of the demon's grotesque form, as you
shall see. It is a defence mechanism that appears when the bond is very nearly
severed."

Johannes put away the pen and pulled out his small knife, the same one he had used
on himself to preform the ritual that killed Cassel. "Does the knife have to be of
a particular metal?" asked the old balding priest - so this lecture was for his
sake.

"No, it simply must be a sharp knife and the cuts are to be done with precision. We
want to avoid the Carotid artery over here. The demonic energy will not allow us to
kill the host so easily. For that same reason, we must take particular care to
apply pressure on the Jugular vein during the second and third cut to prevent the
blood from flowing too quickly."

"What will we do

once the demon-grotesque appears?"

Alleria stopped her struggling as she felt the cold metal of the blade against her
skin.

"We do nothing. By the time it appears, it will be too late for the host to
survive."

The blade broke her skin, there was a dull, piercing pain before it burned. Then
she felt nothing more than her warm liquid blood course down her neck and pool at
her chin and around the ear that was pressed to the stone.

There was complete silence, Alleria didn't dare to move.

Someone winced - one of the priests. The exorcist chuckled. "Not a fan of blood?"

"I can't say I like this done to young girls," said Seppira at Alleria's head.

"Remember," the exorcist said, pressing down the knife to deliver the second cut,
"it is no longer a girl."

Alleria began feeling dizzy, the room previously presented with the aid of
adrenaline in such stark relief was slowly falling out of focus. Everything took on
an airy dream-like quality. She could feel the effort of her heart as it pumped her
diminishing blood to her brain, her lungs burned while she struggled to keep
conscious.

"She's fading," Johannes gasped. He made a mistake. He acknowledged that Alleria

was a person, and not a thing. The thought circulated in her mind, somehow in the
warped logic that happened near death, this detail seemed like something that would
help her survive.

"Is that a problem?" asked the older priest. His voice was coming from a distance.
It echoed, echoed, echoed.

"It could bring about the demon too soon," the exorcist said. "Do you hear me,
girl? Stay awake,

we're almost finished."

She could feel her blood pooling, wet and sticky and hot. She couldn't control the
growing darkness at the edge of her vision. Johannes pressed the blade to her skin
to deliver the third cut.
Someone said words in a strange language, it sounded like the hiss of a cat and at
the same time like music, and also like feet tapping in dance over a wooden floor.
Everything became sharp yet contorted. Without moving her head, Alleria glanced up,
she could see the face of the younger priestess. Her eyes were completely black,
there were no whites.

They shone with tears.

Seppira stroked Alleria's cheek, and just as Johannes pressed the knife to cut, she
leaned on the exorcist's arm making the knife slash downwards.

And cut Alleria's throat.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

She heard the exorcist's scream even through the fog. She spluttered and gargled,
her throat and mouth wet, swimming in blood.

She expected to die.

***

"You made three mistakes, Kai Johannes." said Seppira, her hissing voice was loud,
not as dim as the fading world. In the blackness that was everything, Alleria could
hear clearly.

-"The first was believing you know anything about us."

-"The second was trusting me."

-"And last was this girl."

All over Alleria's body, underneath her skin, something stirred. It prickled,
clawing at her from the inside out. She was being torn apart by countless needles,
cutting every inch of her flesh.

"What's happening?" the words that rang through the air were spoken by what sounded
like

a thousand voices in unison, they left her ears stinging in their wake. Alleria's
vision slowly returned.

She wasn't dead.

The voice that was one but also many uttered a ceaseless string of meaningless
sounds, as if searching for significance within chaos, then the random sounds
slowly formed into occasional solitary words, until finally a sentence was spoken:
"Has the time come for me to walk anew upon the Formed Plane?"

Alleria folded her fingers, they were black, shinning claws. She easily cut through
the leather straps holding her in place - but was that even necessary? She flowed
in a flurry of dark feathers from the stone table. She filled the room. Feathers,
feathers everywhere, hitting the walls and ceiling, ricocheting off the floor.
Flapping, flopping, softly swishing and crisply clipping until finally she lightly
settled into form.

She was. She did not quite stand, rather she perched very nearly on the floor, but
never touching it.
"Or have the blind, stumbling fools meddled with riddles beyond their
comprehension?" chanted the reverberating voices. Alleria wondered for a moment at
their source, and then she realised:

It was her. She had spoken.

She faced the Oracle now, the woman cast herself off her chair, falling to her
knees, and cowered under Alleria's gaze. "But you are -" she cried, "you can't be.
This can't be!"

"There is less meaning in form than there is in thought. What you feel now, I
believe your kind call shame."

The Oracle's body trembled with silent sobs, "Lavasana preserve me, the Power
protect me.

I have prayed to you every moment of my life. I have yearned for your guidance. I
have sought your wisdom. How am I an oracle, if I hear and see nothing? Forever
nothing."

"Do not be deceived, your holiness." Johannes said from behind Alleria, but she
could also hear the shock in his voice. "Demons will take up any form that they
deem weakens your spirit and makes you doubt. It's all an illusion."

Alleria didn't turn to face the exorcist: she scattered into a mess of feathers and
then reformed before him. He was ready for her though, pulling out a small glowing
vial and hurtling it at the floor beneath her. It shattered with a shrill screech
that filled her head and then resonated back and forth painfully, clashing with her
inner music. She doubled over as Johannes rushed round her, bodily standing in
defence between her and the Oracle.

"Belief and perception are illusion. Language is illusion," Alleria said.

The exorcist spread out his arms, his brow wrinkling under some kind of strain. The
blood on the stone table - Alleria's blood - was suddenly animated and glowing red,
rising up into the air in jagged spikes then breaking apart into glistening parts,
like sharp shards of glass. Emitting a cacophony of ear-splitting, brain-numbing
sounds, the blood-shards flew at Alleria. She scattered and reformed, scattered and
reformed. But the blood-shards attacked her feathers again and again. And thus they
were caught in a dance. The pure music of what she was contradicted at every turn
by the tainted, shrill squeal of her spilt blood.

Something leapt at the exorcist from his

right, breaking the spell. The blood, liquid once more, fell to the floor. It was
some time before Alleria could gather herself again and remain in one point. The
room glowed beautifully, warm and yellow, the music settled and calmed. The
creature that had been Seppira pinned Johannes down, snarling.

Alleria felt how, in some distant realm far from here, the part of her that was
Other was conversing with the "demon" part of Seppira. But in that place, all
conversations were a true exchange of essence, even the simplest forms of
communications were Encounters. Alleria therefore spoke in the language of here
instead, "Cease and release, little one. There is no reason to shorten an existence
that is already narrow and momentary."

"He hides and bides and plots," Seppira growled. Although she looked like a woman,
she had also taken the form of a gerbil, her eyes dark and round, her ears large
and pointed, covered with fluffy brownish fur. She sported a long bushy tail, now
clearly visible as she pushed down on the exorcist.

"That is his journey, small friend. There are hidden meanings yet to come," Alleria
said.

As if this was explanation enough, the gerbil-demon rose off the exorcist, though
continued to glare at him.

The exorcist scrambled to his feet, his eyes flickered towards the blood now
smeared on the floor, he made a movement towards his knife.

"Johannes," said the Oracle quietly, firmly grasping his arm. She straightened now,
looking directly at Alleria. "This changes much. This changes everything."

"It changes

nothing!" Johannes cried, "That thing is not -"

"I am the Individual you call Ulundine," Alleria said. "But that name does not hold
me, does not contain or define me. Your belief commands that name, Ulundine
commands your belief. I am form, I am power, I am illusion."

The Oracle breathed hasty breaths as tears filled her eyes. She pressed her hands
to her heart, bowing her head in reverence. The older priest had pinned himself
against the wall when the chaos broke and now fell to his knees shivering.

"It's only a demon!" Johannes argued vehemently.

"That is another name, another word within the construct, within the form, within
the binding that is language."

Then the feathers spread and gathered inward, closing over her, melting into her
skin. She grew smaller and shorter, the room grew dimmer, the music fell further
and further away.

"No!" wailed the Oracle. "Dear Lord, don't leave me! Don't leave me!"

Alleria, fully human once more, touched the ground but her legs couldn't hold her.
Her knees buckled, she fell. Seppira, still gerbil-like, moved with inhuman speed,
catching her before she hit the floor.

The Oracle rose onto shaking legs, looking at Alleria hungrily. "Johannes, she
mustn't be allowed to leave here. This girl is a direct link to God. We must keep
her here, we need answers."

His lips pursed tightly and his face pale, Johannes picked up his knife.

Seppira jumped to her feet and swiftly leapt through the door that had been left
open. Whatever the exorcist had intended to do, whatever spell he thought to
perform that would stop them, Alleria never found out. Her gerbil friend and ally
was known for her speed, the desolate corridor flashed them by, the night air met
them outside.

Alleria remembered the stars looking down at her, before blood-loss mixed with
fatigue overpowered her consciousness.

"Alleria!" she heard the gerbil call. "Stay with me.... Alleria!"

Author's Note: I think this chapter may compensate for its length with its
intensity. It was riveting to write, although some of the descriptions made my
stomach turn. When I first thought up this scene I didn't realise how brutal this
ritual actually is. I hope you like it! I'm always thrilled to receive your
comments, they really make me so happy and don't forget to press the star!

=================

Chapter 15 - Broken

Chapter 15 - Broken

She opened her eyes - She was lying somewhere. The backseat of a car? Driving.

She opened her eyes - Still in the car. No longer driving. One of the car's doors
was slammed shut. Someone got out or came in. Men conversed in low rumbling voices.

She opened her eyes - Lights. Strong white lights. Long white corridors. Shoes
squeaking on linoleum. People speaking, calmly yet urgently. Clipped, precise
sentences. Rushing, rolling, on and on.

She opened her eyes - Mam? Da? Oh, how wonderful it was to see them. Tears spilled
out of the corners of her eyes and into her hair. Thank goodness. They were
alright. They were well.

For the first time in several feverish and delirious days, Alleria woke up to find
herself in a hospital bed.

She had never been a patient in a hospital and had only ever visited one once
before when Granny Ellan broke her hip.

It was a calm, quiet and sleepy place. She looked down the long row of empty beds
covered in crisp white sheets. Sticky late afternoon sunshine streamed in from a
large double window, puddling on the grey linoleum floor. In all this big hall, she
was the only patient present.

There was a crinkling of paper on her left, she gingerly turned her head, aware of
the unpleasant tightness at her throat and looked at the man sitting on a chair by
her bed. Bald, short and chubby with small watery eyes behind round glasses and
short-fingered hands.

Mr. Minsuit.

He was reading a newspaper and paying her no heed. She brought her hand

to her throat to discover that it was heavily bandaged. She also observed the thin
tube protruding out of the back of her hand and connecting with an IV drip that
hung on a bar by the bed.

"Interesting story in the tabloids these days," he mused.

"Oh?"

"There's this girl, no one really understands how she got her throat slashed and
survived," Minsuit said, folding the paper and regarding her seriously.
Alleria didn't answer and simply held his gaze. If he had a point, she knew he
would get to it.

"When she arrived at the hospital, they write, her body was already in shock, in
the later stages of sepsis. While the cut was three inches deep the doctors were
very surprised to discover that the Carotid artery remained whole and no nerves
have been cut nor were her vocal cords damaged. Very peculiar story."

Alleria tried to feel wary. She had never exchanged more than a few simple words
with Minsuit, but even now that she knew he was somehow involved in mischief, he
continued to seem almost pathetically harmless.

"It took some... persuasion to ensure that the medical staff forget your unusual
injury."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he lifted his hand to silence her. "Have no
fear, our methods aren't what the empire considers ethical, but no harm had been
done to anyone. Sadly, the news did get out," he held up the folded newspaper, "but
no one believes the tabloids anyway. It's time, however, we discussed matters
openly."

He placed his newspaper on the bedside table and leaned in, looking intently over
his spectacles at Alleria. "Seppira tells me you've contracted

the elusive Ulundine. He left you an inch from death, I've never known an
Individual to be so cruel."

She stiffened, the contradiction between the words being spoken and the man
speaking them made her skin crawl. She fingered the bandage at her throat. "Are you
the occultist?" she rasped airily.

Minsuit offered one gruff nod, "I am an occultist, Miss Bellencreek. Do you really
believe there is only one? Some things in this world cannot be stamped out, no
matter what everyone assumes. Occultism is as wide-spread yet secret as it has
always been."

She had wanted to know everything, she had longed for answers. But now, presented
finally with a source that was willing, she found that she didn't know where to
begin, and neither if she wanted to know at all. The questions that had seemed so
important before were replaced with a cold feeling; let mysteries remain
mysterious.

She recognised that this dark emotion was grief. True and pure, gnawing at her
insistently. Cassel was gone, forever.

"In our flat -" she began.

"The flat was burned," Minsuit said with a shrug. "I'm unsure as of yet whose work
that had been."

Desperation seized her, Alleria sat up despite the burning ache at her throat and
the dizziness that seemed to pull her backwards by the ears. "Did they find a body?
A body of a boy?"

"A body? No, there wasn't any-"

"But Cassel was there." The speeding of her heart was making her feel dizzy, she
could feel the hollowness of blood-loss all over her body. "He was there that
night."

"Cassel?" Minsuit's eyebrows arched in surprise, the

corners of his mouth quirking downwards. "How do you know of Cassel?"

"He was my - my friend," she stammered. "He tried to help me, but the exorcist did
something to him and then... and then he died."

Minsuit continued frowning at her, "Cassel shouldn't have been anywhere near you.
Someone has clearly blundered."

Alleria leaned away, why wasn't she feeling as suspicious as her mind was telling
her she should be? "Did you send the false subjects? And the Church, that was you
too?"

Minsuit relaxed and sighed, "If I did, would I readily admit it? And tell me, Miss
Bellencreek, what would my motive be?"

It was a good question, although Alleria still couldn't feel that Mr. Malluri's
solicitor had ventured above suspicion just for phrasing a question she didn't have
an answer to. "Are you somehow trying to coerce me into your service so you could
bind me like you did Cassel?"

Now Minsuit rubbed his eyes, looking weary. "I didn't bind Cassel, he's the work of
another. I don't deal with the Many, or useless things like bindings. Not many
occultists do."

"So Individuals cannot be bound?"

"They can, but it serves no purpose at all. You cannot bind Individuals to this
plane without reducing them into a piece of the Many. The Many is as plentiful as
blades of grass, but those Individuals that did not fall among the throng, those
that retained their individuality throughout all ages of this world are rare and
majestic. It has been very long since one so great as Ulundine has graced us with
his presence, although I can't even begin to piece together what it all

means."

"Then if you don't want to control me, why are you so concerned with which demon
I've contracted?"

"That night six years ago, I felt it, how something powerful channelled into our
plane. Such movements have implications, they create a shifting between the Formed
Plane and the Formless Plane. We occultists work within a system that takes into
account the relation between this plane and that one, our power comes out of the
friction that these two planes create."

It made sense in a way that wasn't easily put to words. Alleria felt like she had
already felt this pull and push between two worlds. Even without explicit
boundaries like the village and the forest, she knew almost instinctively where the
demon world was in relation to herself at all times. "And what is your power for?
What do you want to achieve?" she asked.

"That varies from occultist to occultist. The first occultists came into being out
of the need to protect the Encountered from exorcists and to teach them how to
protect themselves. In other words, people like you."

"So is your goal to protect me?"

"Indeed, and I also need your help."

"My help, with what?"

"That is something I can't tell you now, you aren't ready."

Alleria drew a breath, intending to argue, but her stomach lurched uncomfortably,
"But where's Cassel?"

Minsuit shook his head, "I don't know, Miss Bellencreek, but he isn't what you
think he is."

"How would you know what I think he is?"

He shrugged his round shoulders, "It's just how these demons function. He isn't a
person, he's not a lost boy like

you are led to believe, but he most certainly had ulterior motives upon seeking you
out. He had a reason and it wasn't one that benefitted you."

Alleria felt cross, she tightly clutched the thin blanket that was covering her,
trying not to finger her bandaged throat again. "Whatever his reasons, he died
trying to save me."

Minsuit shot her an odd look, and then picked up his newspaper, rising to his feet.
"Of course there are exceptions to every rule," he said simply. "Whatever else,
Cassel's story was a tragedy that shouldn't have happened. We will continue
speaking of this some other time, when you are well, perhaps."

He turned to leave without awaiting her response.

"Wait," she called after him hoarsely. "Is he really dead?"

Minsuit turned to look at her, he regarded her for a moment with his small eyes,
"He wasn't real enough to be really anything, Miss Bellencreek. He was just one of
the Many, a grain of sand, a meaningless speck, a memory of a boy that used to
exist. It is best you forget about him, I can assure you, he has done you no
favours."

"You're wrong," she said, clenching her teeth to prevent herself from yelling and
tearing through her already painful throat.

"Perhaps," Minsuit replied before leaving.

***

The next few weeks contained a lot of pain. Although Alleria's life was not at
risk, healing was a long and gruelling process involving several rounds of
antibiotics and constant inspections of her heart and lungs. She seemed to be
feverish every other day and on one occasion the wound had somehow opened, soaking
her sheets with new, red

blood.

But it was a good thing. The pain was welcome. The focus was on the body and
therefore nowhere near the mind. She didn't let her thoughts go to that dark place,
where a net of waking nightmares was waiting to ensnare her. The memories of that
night flashed behind her eyelids whenever she closed her eyes but she was able to
drown it out with the physical distress of pain.

Her parents were with her always, either alone or together. Their faces were grey
displaying that type of exhaustion that came upon people who worry without pause.
They were practical and supportive, they didn't try to speak of the ordeal she had
suffered. They didn't want to understand what circumstances had brought about such
a violent outcome and what strangeness in Alleria had prevented it from being
fatal.

All they wished was for her to be well again and for everything that had happened
to be over and done with so that peace and sanity could return.

And it would, because as soon as they could, they would be leaving Callivar and the
Church would never find them.

But then there came a night when the pain was only a distant reminder, and the
darkness behind Alleria's eyes was filled with Cassel. That night, she allowed
opaque sadness to take her into its smothering embrace. Her tears would not stop
falling for hours and she felt the jagged cut of her tattered emotions.

The morning found her pale and whole. The doctors proclaimed she was ready to be
discharged from the hospital. Her parents packed her things with feathery relief
underlining their every action.

When everything was ready, they led her through the long white hospital corridors
fussing over her as if she were as delicate as a sandcastle and might crumble at
the slightest touch.

In the car she watched the city pass by from the window. The large stone buildings,
the winding cobbled streets, now familiar, but still beautiful. They would not
dally too long in Callivar, they were to leave today, but first, Alleria had one
last appointment with Mr. Malluri.

=================

Chapter 16 - Red White and Gold

Chapter 16 - Red, White and Gold

There was something odd about the Malluri mansion. Even from the outside Alleria
could sense the tension brimming beneath the surface. The front door opened
silently by a stone-faced attendant who escorted them past the foyer and down the
familiar way to Mr. Malluri's study. Her parents were asked to wait outside,
Alleria ventured in alone.

An overwhelming feeling of despair knocked into her as she stepped into the room.
The blinds were drawn shut and in the shadowy depth of the study, Mr Malluri stood
with his back to her. His shoulders hunched, his head bowed, even without seeing
his face, he barely resembled himself.

"A dreadful outcome," he said, turning to face her. He looked worse than even she
did, his face haggard and papery white, his voice hollow. "One of many bad
outcomes, I'm afraid. My son Willum..." Mr. Malluri paused, his lips moving though
he uttered no words. He ground his teeth together before trying again. "Willum has
left."
"Left?" Alleria felt uneasy, whatever Willum had been up to, however he was
involved in all this, the fact that he left did not bode well.

"He's moved out, went away, cut ties." Mr. Malluri stumbled into his chair, burying
his face in his hands. "My son, my only son..." He looked up at Alleria, shaking
his head, "And now you."

"I'm sorry." There was not much else she could say. She was sorry.

"Do you know... do you even know why I decided to invest in you?"

Alleria blinked, something told her she didn't really wish to know. Nevertheless,
she shook her head

in reply.

"It's actually..." Mr. Malluri sighed and then forced a smile. "It's actually a
funny story... really, it is..." His smile became a grimace, as his shoulders shook
with suppressed grief.

Alleria sat on the chair across from her patron, resting her palms on her knees as
she leaned forward wearing an attentive expression. What ever faults Mr. Malluri
had, whatever his true intentions had been, he had given her something no one else
would - a chance. Although she had squandered it, although she had failed in ways
beyond imagining, she owed at least this to Mr. Malluri.

"Tell me," she said.

For a while, he was quiet, his eyes downcast, his fingers idly tapping the massive
desk that stood between them. "Willum was always a very sharp boy. He took the
divorce badly I'm afraid and he never seemed to have forgiven Irene for leaving...
who can blame him? He rebelled. He wouldn't talk to Selma when we married. He
wouldn't attend the college I designated him to. He wouldn't marry the girl."

Mr Malluri rubbed his face upon mention of the last in the list of Willum's
rebellions and then he chuckled. The sound was so sudden that Alleria was taken
aback for a moment before she resumed her composure. "It was over that - marriage -
we had a terrible row. He's in that age where these things need some thought. You
can't just go swinging that much inheritance around on a loose string." He swung
his arm in the air in demonstration and then scratched his stubble-covered chin.

"After months of endless bickering, Willum stated his conditions. It would be a

girl younger than him, smart

enough to be accepted into the High Academy, from common background and she had to
be pretty or at least palpable to the eye." Mr. Malluri gestured at her.

Alleria felt the blood drain from her face. Mr. Malluri started laughing at her
doubtlessly shocked expression, "He had no idea... that boy....He's stubborn, aha,
very stubborn, but he underestimated his old man. I make the impossible true when
sufficiently motivated - and my son's future, what could be a greater motivation?
You should have seen his face when I told him. An impossible girl like that
actually did exist, and you would have made it, too..."

Click and click, the pieces came together. "It was Willum? The subjects?"

Mr. Malluri grew serious again, sighing for the hundredth time. "It was."

"And the Church?"

He gave her a long and intense look. "It wasn't." Alleria couldn't hide her
skepticism. She felt angry, she felt someone had been behind it all and it suddenly
made sense it was Willum. Hadn't he delivered her straight into the exorcist's
awaiting hands?

"He's in danger from the Church himself," Mr Malluri shot up to his feet, clutching
his head. "If they find him, he'll be given an even worse treatment than you've
received. My son is..." He couldn't seem to complete the sentence, his shoulders
growing lax.

"The occultist, the one they're after?" Another piece of the puzzle fell into
place. How did Willum make her get out of the car back then? What had he done? Her
memories of that night were blurry enough, but the part Willum played in it was the
hardest of all to recall.

Mr Malluri's

jaw slackened, he was about to answer but a sudden hammering at the study door made
them both start. Seppira barged into the study. She was no longer dressed in the
priestess robes, but her clothes were still a muted grey. "She has to leave, now,"
she informed Mr Malluri. "They're on the move. I told you it would be a mistake
bringing her here, it didn't take them ten minutes to break our spell."

Alleria rose to her feet. Her benefactor could have turned her in, he could have
withdrawn his support of her. But instead, he had payed for her hospital bills, had
arranged the move out of Callivar and hid her trail from the Church.

Now she knew why.

"Thank you, Mr. Malluri, for everything," she said, her voice trembling slightly as
often happens with words that come from the heart. He nodded in reply but remained
sadly silent as she left the study escorted by Seppira.

"You work for Mr. Minsuit?" Alleria asked her as they marched down the corridor to
where her parents were waiting.

"We operate together, along with many others."

Seppira pushed something small, smooth and round into Alleria's hand. She opened
her palm to find an amber-coloured pill. "A precaution," Seppira said in muted
tones. "Just in case..."

Doubtlessly, the pill contained a potent poison that would act fast and force her
demon to emerge to save her. Alleria had many questions about her existence, but
she had not quite recovered yet from the first experience of being Ulundine.

She tucked the pill into the pocket of her cardigan.

Her parents both jumped to their feet the moment

Alleria opened the sitting room door. Not for the first time she wondered; in the
days she had been in the hospital, where had they been? What was their side of the
story? What weren't they telling her?

But just as they refrained from asking her about her side of things, it was somehow
hard to bring it up.

"We have to leave," Alleria said.

"Right." Da pursed his lips and led the way. Through the front door and down the
marble stairwell, they walked a tight and tense group towards the car. There was
some commotion happening in the drive-way, as several of Mr. Malluri's attendants
flanked someone Alleria couldn't see.

"This is highly unnecessary!" the man the attendants were detaining shouted. "I
would only like to ask Mr. Malluri of the whereabouts of Miss Alleria Bellencreek
so I could deliver this message."

"There is no Bellencreek here," Alleria heard one of the attendants say as Seppira
ushered them towards the car.

"I didn't say she was here. But Mr. Malluri must know -"

"He doesn't," the attendant cut him off.

Da opened the car door for Alleria, she began to edge onto the seat when she
noticed a flash of colour from the corner of her eye. Half-crouched, she suddenly
saw who the attendants were speaking with. It was a man in a ridiculous outfit of
red, gold and white. The man's legs seemed thin in the tight white leggings, the
red trousers of his suit ended just above his knees and sported puffed pockets
decorated with gold thread and golden buttons. His jacket was equally elaborate,
red and gleaming gold. At his shoulders his sleeved were puffed to

be as large as his head. A triangular hat decorated with a plume of red and gold
feathers and jewelled buckled shoes were the finishing touches to his outfit.

This, Alleria recognised at once, we an imperial courier.

Only in the most important occasions would an imperial courier be dispatched.

Unless this was an announcement of war, there was only one possible option.

Alleria walked away from the car as if in a dream, Seppira and her parents called
after her, but she didn't pay them any heed. She pushed through the ring of
attendants, and stood as tall as she could before the courier.

"I'm Alleria Bellencreek," she said.

The courier took her in, a young, skinny girl with a bandaged throat. There were
still bruises on her face and arms. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes were like
bottomless pits with dark circles underneath them. She probably looked sickly and
mad.

"You're...?" the courier began. A single eyebrow shot up in confusion, he pulled

out a note from one of his pockets. "Five foot and nine inches," he read out.
"Brown hair. Brown eyes. Female. Sixteen of age.... my, sixteen?" He quirked a
curious eyebrow at her before clearing his throat and pulling a scroll from one of
the many pockets in his shining jacket.

"Miss Alleria Bellencreek?" he called in a formal tone, his voice ringing and
rolling through the air. Everyone seemed to stand to attention when the imperial
courier began to deliver his message.

"Aye?" Alleria said. From somewhere behind her, she heard how the mansion's front
door was thrown open and someone came running down the stairs.

The courier
appeared to be satisfied, he took a step back and, standing with his feet slightly
apart, broke the seal on the scroll, clearing his throat.

"In adherence to imperial proclamation sixty-five-thousand-five-hundred-forty-

three:

"Whereas any participant in the official imperial admittance examinations for the
High Academy of Scholars will be granted equal opportunity to demonstrate academic
prowess and will be evaluated according to their performance alone.

"Whereas any subject of His imperial grace, Emperor Tarris, first of his name, who
has been found worthy after participating in the official imperial admittance
examinations for the High Academy of Scholars must, in accordance with imperial law
seventy-eight-hundred-forty-nine, put forth his or her life in service of the
imperial Bureaucracy and the citizens of the empire.

"We therefore announce that Miss Alleria Bellencreek, daughter of Hendry

Bellencreek, imperial Hand, has been allocated a place within the High Academy of
Scholars. As determined by the results of the official imperial examinations that
took place on the week of the twelfth of May in the nineteenth year to reign of his
imperial excellence Emperor Tarris, first of his name, Miss Alleria Bellencreek
ranked fifth, numbering her last among the Paramount.

Therefore, Miss Alleria Bellencreek is cordially invited to stand in attendance

with the exalted Emperor Tarris, first of his name, on June fourteenth in the
nineteenth year to His reign.

"Henceforth failure to be present before His imperial grace on the appointed date
will place Miss Alleria Bellencreek under the risk of swift and severe punishment.

"Signed, Lord Bailey Sanstun, Chairman of the Board of Scholars

"Signed, Mr. Maddox Barnel, imperial Grand Vizier

"Signed, Emperor Tarris the Thelverain, First of His Name, Supreme ruler of the
Mighty Empire of Varrenan, Holder of the Eight Truths and Five Arts, Bearer of the
holy Light of Leccerot, Blessed of the Owl-God."

Once the courier completed his announcement, the entryway of the Malluri mansion
was filled with breathless silence. Finally, a chuckle cut through the shock in
Alleria's mind. She glanced behind her to find Mr. Malluri shaking with silent
laughter and resting his palms upon his knees.

Her attention was snatched back to the courier as he handed her the scroll and took
a step back, bowing with a flourish of streaming white sleeve-cuffs. Her eyes
scanned the letter several times before she finally focused on the last signature.
She was familiar with the emperor's handwriting, her parents were imperial Hands
and as such wrote in it on daily - but this was the real thing, the emperor himself
had signed this document.

Her knees buckled and she sat down heavily on the grey brick floor. She was 5th
Paramount, she was a scholar, she had made it into the High Academy.

It didn't feel real.

"June 14th?" she wondered out loud, "isn't that in three days?"

--
A/N - Yes, yes, I know, this was expected. but we wouldn't have a story without
this. It always makes me happy to hear your thoughts and feedback, please don't
forget to support the story by voting.

=================

Chapter 17 - Paramount

Chapter 17 - Paramount

The sleek black car sped towards Imperia, the emperor's city. They were driving
along the same road by the side of which Alleria and Cassel had shared their first
kiss. She somehow tried to find that spot where that had stopped - she didn't know
why or what finding it would help her.

Alleria fingered the high collar of her light blue dress.

It hid her injured throat well. Quillic had nearly had a seizure when he saw the
state she was in and was told that he had only three days to prepare her for an
audience with the emperor. There was no discussion over Alleria's image this time,
the main goal at hand was to make her look more presentable and less like a walking
corpse.

The dress that was chosen reached below her knees, had a high waist and featured
sharp, straight lines. The shoulders were padded, the sleeves long and the collar
was high yet the skirt sat snugly on her hips. It was closed by a long line of
star-shaped pearly buttons that ran along the front-left side from the top of the
collar all the way to her thigh ending in a slit that exposed most of her left leg
and thankfully allowed her to walk at ease within the tight pencil skirt. On the
other hand, the blue satin pumps she wore had heels so high she could only walk
like a fidgeting bird. Her hair had been straightened, parted diagonally and
twisted into a tight knot, effectively flattening the front against her forehead to
hide a particularly nasty bruise that hadn't faded yet.

She looked severe, sharp yet feminine -

There was nothing in her heart, nothing at all.

Failure, fear, grief, pain, darkness, despair - and then success beyond imagining.
Alleria had fallen into a whirlwind of emotions so extreme that when she finally
emerged she thought she didn't know how to feel anymore. She was stumbling through
an endless chain of soul-shattering events, each one like the fall of an axe upon
her being. She longed for nothing more than to take a step out of her own life and
gather her wits. She wanted to open up her own head and heart, and spread their
contents out against black velvet to be examined like a jeweller examines diamonds.

Then she'd understand, and know who she was right now.

"You'll be fine," said Seppira who was sitting next to her. She was allowed one
attendant of her own gender to bring along to the emperor. Everyone had been
strongly opposed to this attendant being Mam. Alleria needed help also because her
legs were still wobbly and the high heels only made it worse. Seppira's hair was
made into an identical style as Alleria's and she wore a dress similar to the one
Alleria wore, but instead of light blue, her's was a rusty mustard colour.
Not knowing what to say in response to Seppira's assurances, Alleria remained
silent.

Several moments later there was a flash of lightning in the sky, the afternoon grew
dim as heavy, dark clouds gathered overhead. "A summer storm," Alleria said
quietly.

"They say Emperor Tarris likes the rain, he'll be in a good mood, then."

"I heard Emperor Tarris is always in a good mood and loves all weather." Alleria
realised that that was the longest sentence she had said in three days, her

voice sounded unusual - too small and too thin. Or maybe that was just how she felt
about all of herself. She was too small a bird flying into too large a sky.

Sometimes, when there are so many details to take it and so many things to see,
it's hard to notice anything at all. Of the journey through the gates to the inner
sanctum of Imperia and then to the world-famous Hall of Feathers - the largest of
the imperial audience chambers - Alleria could only remember the security check-
ups. She was questioned, poked, prodded and searched so many times it was a
surprise that her dress was still in order and her hair hadn't fallen out of place.

Only when she finally entered the Hall of Feathers was she able to see the jaw-
dropped grandeur. This audience hall had gotten its name in the time of Emperor
Jarvius III who had, as a boy, begun a collection of feathers from all manner of
birds. As Jarvius III grew in age, so did his collection and in year 22.Jarvius.III
the collection had been placed on display in this hall.

Tens of thousands of feathers in all colours and shapes hung by invisible strings
from the domed ivory ceiling, swaying with every movement of the air. They
glittered and rustled, those with the shiner surfaces strategically placed to
reflect and throw the light of the intricate crystal chandeliers.

But those were just for show.

Along the walls in floor to ceiling glass cases that were no thicker than a board,
the particularly prized specimens that would not stand to be exposed to air and
dust were on display. Underneath each feather was a small

brass plaque that proclaimed to which bird this or that feather had belonged and
the year it had been obtained.

Alleria felt ill at ease. Sometimes, she still sensed the memory of rustling
feathers prickling underneath her skin, as if her demon had rolled over in its
sleep. There were no demon-feathers here, she knew that for certain. The only
feather of magical value was the feather of a dragon which hung in all its glory
spread and encased in glass above the dais where Emperor Tarris now sat.

It was huge, as tall as she was and perhaps just as wide and was a bright red
colour that screamed into the eye.

It was uneven and shapeless, like a splatter of blood.

She bit back a gasp as the memory of her own spilt blood flashed through her mind,
her gaze settling instead on the man sitting in the throne upon the distant dais.
Emperor Tarris looked just like he did in photographs or posters. A short, stocky
man with a thick moustache and thinning hair. He smiled his trademark smile while
talking to a light-blue clad, ginger-haired scholar she knew must be Maddox Barnel.
The grand vizier was gesturing with his arms as he conversed with the emperor in an
almost friendly fashion.

Alleria didn't know what she had been expecting. Although the hall was vast, and
there were many, many people about, she came to realise that Emperor Tarris was
also just a man.

Just as Ulundine was not God, but merely a demon. Although she didn't know what
that even meant. She was certain that she was still Alleria, but she had also been
Ulundine and she didn't understand the meaning of anything anymore.

Seppira

gently led Alleria by the arm to the edge of the long emerald green carpet that
passed between round tables and would bring her face-to-face with the emperor. A
beautiful woman with silken black hair that fell down to her waist and a flowing
golden dress walked up to them.

"You are Miss Alleria Bellencreek?" she asked in the clearest city accent Alleria
had ever heard, marking something on a clipboard she was holding. "If you may
please stand behind Lady Freya over there. You will be presented before His grace
according to order of rank. You are fifth and last. Your escort will await you at
your appointed seat."

Seppira pulled Alleria aside. "Remember, even if you look like a frightened child,
it's fine. No one expects anything else."

It occurred to Alleria, not for the first time, that even though she had not formed
a full opinion of what Minsuit was doing, Seppira was a kind and warm-hearted
woman. She was also her friend in that strange, incomprehensible plane that was the
demon world.

"You can imagine them all in their underpants," Seppira suggestion, which surprised
a laugh out of Alleria.

"Do you want me to look even more uncomfortable?"

Seppira sighed. "I forgot you're such a goody-two-shoes. Oh, go on imagining them
fully-dressed then, or like trees."

"I think I'll survive."

"I bet you will." Seppira looked over at the four awaiting Paramount. "What's he
doing here?"

Alleria tried to follow her gaze but couldn't tell which of the three men standing
there Seppira was referring to. One of them was a tall Alaazian man with his dark
hair plaited into dozens

of little plaits. The next was the typical scholar, pot-bellied in his mid-forties
with a weak chin and brown hair that looked like it was running away from his large
forehead.

And first in line was Lord Salem Dagen.

"He made it to First Paramount, like he said he would." For the first time in
several weeks, there was wonder and life in Alleria's voice. She recalled her
meeting with Lord Dagen as if it happened to another person in a different life. It
was nevertheless refreshing to be reminded of something that hadn't been horrible.
She wondered if he still remembered her and what he'd say about the fact that she
was here.

"Ugh, I hate Dagens," Seppira complained. "They're everywhere."

That reminded Alleria of something Cassel had said. "Is there anything unusual
about the Dagens?"

"If by 'unusual' you mean worse than demons, then yes."

"What do you mean -"

Seppira made a sound that was supposed to be a chortle but was very clearly fake.
"This isn't the time or place. Don't worry about it. Go on and try not to fall
over."

There really wasn't any room for arguments. The silken-haired woman from before was
eyeing them beseechingly. Although she would have rather stayed and talked to
Seppira for the remainder of the evening, Alleria moved on.

Her heels sank into the thick green carpet as she walked carefully and slowly and
stood behind Lady Freya. Possibly in her late-thirties, the fourth Paramount was a
short, bony woman with a thick nose and shoulder-length dark-blond hair. She wore
huge thick-lensed spectacles that took up half her face and gave

her the appearance of an insect.

Lady Freya turned to regard Alleria and then firmly nodded at her in greeting.
Alleria didn't mind this kind of communication in the least, she nodded back. One
after the other, the three men of the Paramount turned to look at her. Last was
Dagen, his face had been passive and closed almost as if he were bored, but when he
saw her his eyes widened and brightened. They exchanged a smile.

"Me oh my," said the Alaazian man. Alleria recognised that voice. She looked at him
again. He was very thin for a man and he wore a perfectly tailored suite of a light
blue that was almost lilac. There were diamond earrings in his ears though, and his
fingernails were painted purple.

"Zalee Salah?" She almost exclaimed his name but remembered in the last moment
where she was.

"Good to see you too, baby," he said sarcastically. Alleria didn't quite know how
or why, but somehow seeing Zalee dressed like that - like just another man - felt
wrong and out of place.

The man that was second Paramount eyed Zalee with open distaste and cleared his
throat. Alleria instantly became nervous that she was behaving badly but Zalee
shook his head and rolled his eyes.

There was a silvery chime of a single bell that silenced the entire hall in an
instant. An imperial speaker whose uniform was similar to that of the courier
except instead of red, his suit was bright yellow, stood up on a small, round,
raised platform that was lower than the emperor's dais. With a theatrical bow, he
addressed the gathered crowd of royalty and nobles.

He began telling what everyone already

knew. Alleria had read about this sort of speech, a part of the ancient imperial
oral tradition that had proceeded print. One of the most important things in the
imperial court was ceremony and she found herself listening closely to the
speaker's rising and falling tones as if this story were new to her.

Balus the Aredmouten, the legendary first emperor had erected the Exams method. The
legend said that he had discovered that his knowledge was greater than that of his
advisors and he therefore, for the sake of the empire, wished to find those who
were wiser than him. Thus every four years the Exams took place, and soon the
imperial bureaucracy was in the hands of the wisest scholars.

The imperial scholarship expanded and grew, and out of the Imperial Academy, the
High Academy came to be. As times changed and minds grew wiser yet, there were more
and more people eligible for the Exams. Thus it was determined that every four
years, only one hundred places - one hundred ranks - would be available for new
scholars within the High Academy.

But it was always those who ranked as the first five - the Paramount - who, after
four years, were made Fellows in the prestigious Imperial Academy and were true
bureaucrats and advisors to the emperor.

Although the speaker did not say anything about it, Alleria already knew that here
and now was only the beginning. Her place in the Paramount was not guaranteed.
Every half-year, if she did not perform well as a scholar, she might be demoted
from the Paramount or even expelled from the Academy altogether.

As the speaker finished

his tale, he began presenting the new Paramount one after the other. Each one in
turn had to walk down the long emerald carpet and stand before the emperor to bow
and exchange pleasantries.

- First and foremost, with the greatest honour and the sharpest mind came Lord
Salem Dagen, fourth son of Count Samuel Dagen. His exchange with the emperor was so
well-versed it seemed almost like a chant. Yet Dagen was still charming somehow,
playing his lordly role with elegance.

- Second was Mr. Dolwick Kempett, son of Mr. Morchen Kempett the great merchant and
businessman, owner of the East Sea Trading Corp. Before the emperor he looked
awkward and was as stiff as a marble statue.

- Third was Mr. Zalee Salah of Alazze, son of Artin Salah. He walked down the
emerald aisle with a feminine sway to his hips. Alleria could not hear his full
exchange with the emperor, but Zalee said something that filled the hall with
imperial laughter.

- Fourth was Lady Uresi Freya, daughter of Prince Elemi Freya, first woman to enter
the Paramount. She kept her chin raised high and her eyes fixed straight, but
whispers followed her all the way to the emperor. Her exchange with him was civil,
and there was not a piece of the ceremony neglected.

- Fifth and last came Miss Alleria Bellencreek, daughter of Hendry Bellencreek,
imperial Hand.

Suddenly feeling very small, very young
Alleria carefully placed one foot after
to the emperor. As was with Lady Freya,
through forest trees. Her heart pounded
more frightening than all demons in the
and very exposed, with all eyes upon her,
the other, every step bringing her closer
the whispers followed Alleria like a breeze
painfully in her chest as a mere man became
Otherworld combined.
Although the emperor was only a man, he was the most powerful man in the whole
world.

A/N - Thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've already
finished most of the next chapter so will have it up in a few days. We're finally,
finally ready for the Academy! (Don't forget to show your love by pressing the star
and I'll love you forever if you tell me what you think about the story so far!)

=================

Chapter 18 - Emperor Tarris

Chapter 18 - Emperor Tarris

There was a golden star printed upon the carpet marking where those who spoke with
the emperor had to stand. He had brown eyes that were set deeply within his face
and adorned by soft folding wrinkles. But while he did smile what was doubtlessly a
perfectly gracious smile, she could not see anything of the man that lay within,
beyond his eyes.

"Your grace, I am eternally within your service," she chanted the words according
to ceremony, bowing. The injury in her throat, now healed but still occasionally
painful, gave her a sharp reminder that it was there. She flinched ever so
slightly.

"Rise, daughter of Varrenan," the emperor said. Alleria felt slightly disappointed
that his voice didn't boom, nor echo. It was even a little on the high and hoarse
side of the voice spectrum. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

He blinked, for a moment some expression she could not read passed over his marble
features and then was gone. "You are that child, then, who has surpassed in wisdom
many men older than you that thought themselves wise."

It sounded almost like an accusation. Alleria fought the urge to stare at her
shoes. She had chosen to become a scholar, to move up in the world and play with
the sharks. Maybe she had not fully understood at the time what that choice
entailed, but she was already committed. "I love to read, your Grace. And I love
numbers, too. I love knowledge, wisdom, people and peace." A small smile somehow
found its way onto her face, she didn't know how it got there. "Those are the
things that brought me here."

The

emperor smiled at Alleria, a smile that, if she were not mistaken, looked genuine.
"Love is a worthy value to bring one so small this far," he said. "I've heard many
curious things about you, Miss Bellencreek, not all of them were in your favour."

The smile they had been exchanging vanished without a trace from both of their
faces. Alleria felt how knots were forming in her heart. The thin shell that held
her presence of mind began to crack. "Not in my favour, your Grace?"

"The Revered Candle-bearer himself has sought my ear on the matter. Not only are
the tidings he brings dark, but also contradictory. I do wonder if you will be able
to satisfy my selfish curiosity. Which are you, a child touched by our benevolent
God or by the Devils of the shadowlands? The Church cannot seem to agree with
itself on the matter."

Never had Alleria had to fight so hard against the weight of tears. Every word the
emperor spoke was a hard, cold slap against her nerves. The surrounding nobility
whispered like a hive of angry wasps, everyone knew what she was now. She stood
there, naked, exposed, they all saw it, how she was other.

"Must I be one or the other, your Grace?" she asked quietly to mask her trembling
voice.

The emperor leaned back into his throne and regarded her. Again, she couldn't
understand his expression. Understanding others was hard enough as it was. As the
man standing on the top of the world, the emperor's every move was subtle and
calculated. "My thoughts exactly. It needn't be one or the other."

What did that mean? She wondered what the point of this exchange was.

She looked at him with her eyes round and wide in her face but didn't know how to
respond.

Luckily, he inclined his head in the smallest of nods. "It was interesting
conversing with you, young Miss Bellencreek. Perhaps we will meet again."

Alleria knew when she was dismissed. She felt it with tangible relief as if a taunt
cord that had been holding up her spine had just been cut. She bowed, ignoring the
bite of her painful throat. "Being in your presence has been the greatest honour,
you Grace."

And it was over, she was released from her audience with the emperor. She continued
down the path of the emerald carpet as it led her towards the left side and through
a door that took her down a corridor and to a small room. The room featured the
same emerald carpet and was sparsely furnished with a few high-backed polished
wooden chairs and a couple of side tables. She didn't doubt for a moment someone
would arrive soon with instructions of what she should do next. In the meantime,
she was alone. She leaned against the wall, feeling as if she needed to catch her
breath.

"Walk with me, Miss Bellencreek," said a man's voice.

Alleria straightened so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet, her ankles
protested painfully to the sudden jerking movement within the high-heeled pumps.
The ginger-head man that entered the side-chamber wore the light blue robe of a
scholar with a golden sash round his waist marking him as the grand vizier.

Maddox Banel was young for a grand vizier, only in his fifties, but he was known
for his cunning and sharpness. Her stood in the doorway

with his arms crossed and a placid expression on his face.

"Yes... sir?" Alleria grasped at straws, her etiquette lessons did not cover how
one conversed with a grand vizier. There were ways to speak with royalty, ways to
speak with nobility and ways to speak with high-class people - but there were no
rules of how to speak with a commoner who had been elevated to a high position.

It felt like speaking with Zalee Salah in the way that the rules didn't apply
properly.

Barnel made no comment on her lack of ettiequte. With his hands intwined behind his
back, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully, he turned on his heel and began striding
slowly back towards the Hall. Alleria hurriedly fell into step beside him. He
didn't seem to notice her awkwardness. "There was a..." he paused, apparently
searching for the right word. "A drama. A big drama surrounding your admittance."
Barnel wriggled his fingers in the air as if demonstrating the extent of the
turmoil. "Your last essay was..." - he grinned approvingly - "scandalous." The grin
vanished. "There were some hellbent on making your life miserable for your
blasphemy. Others who are yet undecided and a few who approve of you and your
methods. Lucky for you, these few numbered among them his Excellence Emperor
Tarris."

Alleria chose the option of silence. She decided to wait until his speech reached
its conclusion before drawing any of her own.

"What you've witnessed today was a statement," Barnel went on. "For you it may have
been a tad embarrassing, for Emperor Tarris this was the announcement of next move
on the chess-board."

They

reached the end of the corridor and walked into the Hall. Barnel continued to step
deliberately, neither slowing nor hurrying his pace. His walk appearing almost
casual, almost friendly. Anyone watching would have been convinced their
conversation was amiable. But his tone was precise, his words sharp as needles.
"You are now the property of the Academia and the Bureaucracy, Miss Bellencreek,
which means, you are the emperor's asset. Half the Church now screams for your
death while the other demands your life, they will have to content themselves with
neither as long as you are one of us."

He turned his head and fixed her with a piercing stare before resuming to look
forward. "The immediate danger has passed, but you are not safe. Do you understand
me, Miss Bellencreek?"

"The danger is never over," Willum had said.

"I understand." Alleria's voice was low and laced with meanings her words had never
contained before. She wondered if the one who said those words was the woman she
was becoming, so different from the girl she used to be.

"Good."

They arrived at one of the round tables. There would be a feast tonight to mark the
occasion. Alleria saw Seppira sitting and looking on towards the emperor's dais.
She started when she noticed Alleria and Barnel standing over her.

Barnel turned to Alleria, he extended his hand. "I trust I will see you again, Miss
Bellencreek," he said.

She shook his hand. "Who do you stand among, Mr. Barnel?" she asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The some, the others or the few?"

A grin similar to that of a cat's broke across Barnel's features. "I stand with the
empire." And with only a nod in way of farewell, he left.
A/N - As part of my effort to pick up the pace of my writing I'm going to try
posting smaller parts more times a week. I've given myself till the middle/end of
March to complete this novel, so I better get my act together. I'll probably have
more typos in this way of writing but I promise to go back and edit.

And while I have your attention - what are your thoughts about Maddox Barnel?

(Don't forget to press the star!)

=================

Chapter 19 - The Calendrical Algorithm

Chapter 19 - The Calendrical Algorithm

The table was already set with pallets of starters, exotic shellfish lightly
seasoned, tiny pickled meat cuts, stuffed sardines, small bite-sized delicacies
Alleria didn't recognise served on soft white bread soaked in olive oil and various
spiced and steamed vegetables.

"So that was the famous Maddox Barnel?" Seppira said as Alleria all but collapsed
into the chair next to her. The evening had only just begun and yet she felt she
was ready to retire for the night.

"Charming fellow," Seppira continued, "No wonder everyone adores him to bits."

Which was to say, Barnel was not popular within the bureaucracy, though he was
powerful in a way that mere dislike couldn't hinder. There were stories about him,
how he beat the old scholars at their own political game, how he helped the emperor
be a true leader and not a mere figurehead.

"Aye, well, I can't make my own mind about him," Alleria replied.

"You did well, by the way. But everyone is frightened of you now."

As soon as Seppira said those words, Alleria realised it was the truth. According
to ceremony, this was when the imperial court fluttered from table to table,
sharing food and wine and getting acquainted with the new and upcoming minds of the
scholarly world. The other four members of the Paramount were spread out about the
Hall each occupying their own table. Brightly dressed nobles and royalty crowded
round them, but no one came to speak with her. She sighed, right now, that was fine
with her.

Later it would be a problem.

"Survive the present.

Later will have to take care of itself."

She shuddered, trying to push back the memory of Cassel. But it was vibrant and
golden in her mind, laced with aching ribbons of sadness. She tapped her finger
over the white satin tablecloth before her. How would this evening have looked to
her if she had still been a whole person and perfectly intact?
She sensed someone approaching from behind and looked up in time to see Lord Dagen
sneaking up to her table. Without even asking for permission, he eased himself into
a chair across from her, rolling his eyes at his own table that was still
surrounded by people.

"Miss Bellencreek, do you mind if I hide here for a bit?"

Seeing Dagen now didn't lessen the bite of her memories, but at least it was a
welcome distraction. "Won't you be missed, your lordship?" she asked.

"My brother, Samson, is occupying their full attention - for now." He leaned across
the table, examining her in a way that was entirely inappropriate. Alleria sank
back into her chair feeling her face flush.

He didn't seem to care about her discomfort, his face growing dark and his lips
pursing together. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth and for a very brief moment,
he seemed translucently white, almost glowing. Alleria could have sworn that while
her eyes saw only a man sitting before her, something else inside her saw something
else besides Salem Dagen.

And whatever it was, it was big, mountainous, making the large hall around it
shrink in comparison.

Reacting instinctively, Alleria slipped out from her seat and took several

steps back. Dagen shot to his feet, his hand reaching out for her in a gesture that
was meant to be reassuring. Aside from being flushed, his face now was normal.
Whatever she had just glimpsed was safely hidden away. "I apologise, Miss
Bellencreek, I didn't mean to startle you."

She blinked at him in silence. She wanted to ask him what he was. But she couldn't,
not here. "Are you my friend?" she whispered the question.

"Yes," he answered immediately. His gaze flashed toward Seppira and back to her.
Alleria too looked to see what her escort was doing and was surprised to find
Seppira nonchalantly nibbling on a piece of bread.

"You can trust the Dagen," she said with her mouth full and without looking at
Alleria. "He's not one of us, but he's harmless."

Dagen resumed his seat with very little ceremony, straightening out the jacket of
his light-blue suit. "I wouldn't say I'm harmless. At least, not to my enemies."

"You mean, they can't tell on their own?" Seppira retorted.

Alleria couldn't bring herself to smile but she edged back to the table and
gingerly sat down. "I would like either one of you to tell me what's going on," she
said as sweetly as she could.

"This is hardly the place -" Seppira began.

"Not now." Alleria eyed Dagen. He nodded, but there was something in his brown eyes
that told her she would have a hard time extorting the information out of him.

The three of them watched the hall in awkward silence. Dagen had been right to try
and hide here, Alleria realised. The gathered nobility, royalty and scholars seemed
to be incapable of spotting
her corner of the hall. She knew that if they so much as made eye-contact,
etiquette would dictate that they were obligated to approach and make conversation.
They were mortally afraid of coming across as uncouth, so they therefore ignored
her entirely.

Dagen cleared his throat. "Miss Bellencreek," he said, rapping his fingers against
the tabletop. "Do you need anything? Have you eaten?"

Alleria looked at the table before her laden with enough food and drink to feed her
entire village for a whole month. "I beg your pardon, your lordship?"

He scratched the side of his nose and suddenly found the feathers floating overhead
dreadfully fascinating. "I heard about... about... well, I was outraged to hear
about... And worried too..." He trailed off, before looking at her. "Anyway, glad
you're alright and that your own assessment of yourself proved to be false. I guess
for the time being, between the two of us, I'm a better judge of character and was
right all along."

For the smartest man to take the Exams, Dagen sure knew how to sound like a
stuttering fool. She was half-tempted to point that out. "If I didn't know any
better, my lord, I could have sworn you were bragging," she said innocently
instead.

Dagen grinned his bright, white smile. "Was I? Possibly making a habit of it now
that I'm top of the lot."

"You wouldn't be the first to make a habit of it, my lord."

"You should try it. It's rather fun."

"Bragging? I bet it is."

"I meant being first, being on the top." Dagen's expression grew serious and
Alleria wasn't sure she liked where this conversation

was going. Was this a challenge of some kind? Was Dagen yet another wolf come in a
misleading guise?

Feeling conscious and worried, Alleria lowered her gaze before she remembered
herself and lifted her chin, looking Count Dagen's fourth and favourite son in the
eye. "If I'll be first, where will you be?"

He smiled, clearly reading the things that Alleria wasn't saying. "I'll be right
behind you, probably eating your dust. To have come this far, this young, you must
know what it means, Miss Bellencreek."

Her heart hammered in her chest, she couldn't meet his gaze. Yes, she knew. She
thought about many things, sometimes even that. She could see her mind as a tool, a
thing that served her. Right now her cognitive abilities put her on par with the
wisest people in the empire. But she had not reached the peak of her potential, not
yet. She was still growing, and had much developing to do.

"Only a fool wouldn't see and acknowledge what you are and what you will become,"
he continued, lowering his voice so that it would reach only her ears, "and I often
like to think that I'm not a fool."

"Aren't you worried, then? Aren't you afraid?" It was a reasonable question to ask.
Now she was young, controllable. But what would happen later? She could become a
force to be reckoned with.
"Worried? Afraid?" He shook his head. "I'm thrilled." Dagen's eyes gleamed and his
smile widened, the dimples in his cheeks growing deeper. "What you have to
understand about me, Miss Bellencreek, is that I'm a sentimentalist," he explained
growing quite animated. In that sense he wasn't different

from other important men Alleria had met. He loved talking about himself. "I grow
very fond and attached to ideas when they have a certain... beauty to them. It's
often my downfall and my blind-spot. But it's also why I love poetry. It's why I'm
rather fond of the idea that is you."

"You're fond of me as an idea?" It was hard to decide whether this was a compliment
or an insult. Dagen had just expressed a fondness towards a component of her being,
but in the same instant that reduced her to nothing but that one component. "Lord
Dagen, you're a flowery speaker? I never knew." Alleria surprised even herself with
the touch of sarcasm in her words.

"Only when faced with a marvellous anomaly," he replied, his tone low but at the
same time bright.

"I'd tell you two to get a room," Seppira butted in, "but I'm not sure what exactly
you're going on about."

Alleria pressed her lips together trying not to frown. If Dagen's maybe-compliments
hadn't been on the verge of being insults she would have thought that this was
flirting. She was firmly of the mind that she was too young to be partaking in such
a practice with a fully-grown man, even if it was dangerously easy for her.

She wondered if someday she'd become a social snake like the rest of the people
that frequented these types of events. Would saying the appropriate words come to
her like a second nature, so that with a few well-placed phrases she'd be subtle
and devious, obtaining her status through polite backstabbing and the gentle
shaming of others?

Would she ever manage to remain Alleria, or was she going to become

one with this crowd? Had she lost herself already?

"It's good to know I have a friend in you, my lord," she said earnestly but also
morosely.

He knit his brow at her tone and raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before
patting the back of her palm quickly and lightly and then pulling away. "I'm glad
to have met you. I have no words of comfort to offer, I doubt it will be easy. But
I know it will be worth it."

She knew she was blushing. Lord Dagen was, in fact, quite handsome and she was
suddenly overwhelmingly conscious of this. He also had a smell that felt familiar.
It was no perfume or cologne, just his natural fragrance, a little bit like the way
cedar trees smell after it rains.

She looked up in time to see someone else approaching their table, a man with an
angular face and wavy brown hair that was doubtlessly Salem Dagen's older brother,
Samson.

"I should have known," he said, his voice was deeper and scratcher than his younger
brother's. He also wore on his face a disgusted scowl. "Your next conquest, I
presume? Is no child safe these days?"
"I wasn't -" Salem Dagen began defensively.

"Save it for someone who doesn't know what you're about," his brother cut him off.
He then turned to Alleria, frowning. "Don't be blinded by my fool of a brother,
young lady, he loses himself at the sight of a skirt and pair of legs."

Alleria rose to her feet, which in turn made Dagen spring up to his. She bowed
clumsily at Samson. "I assure you, my Lord, this is a misunderstanding," she said,
pronouncing the words as best she could without betraying her accent.

It was surprising how clearly she could now imitate the city dialect. She had sworn
she'd never speak this way, but here she was, easily discarding her own resolutions
for the sake of appealing to the person she was speaking with. "We were merely
conducting a scholarly debate."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Salem Dagen shoot her a surprised look behind
his brother's back. She had just lied effortlessly and convincingly. "A scholarly
debate?" asked Samson. "Is that what it's called these days?"

Alleria blinked innocently and then nodded, purposefully missing the sarcasm. "Oh
yes, we were discussing the addition of the Helmich equations into the calendrical
algorithm. As you know, this new development was found to have a few abstractions
while tested on previous years, but regardless of that we await the next Year Day
solar eclipse to witness whether it delivers the promised accuracy. This has the
potential of stabilising the economy for many years to come. It's very exciting."

Samson gaped at her as Salem Dagen suddenly had to cough to hide an onslaught of
laughter. "Right, right, read that in the paper this morning," Samson said trying
for an air of self-importance that could hide his previous accusations. She could
tell it unnerved and annoyed him to have someone so many years younger than him
sound so much more sophisticated. "Very exciting development. They say that if
there will be another mistake on the estimated length of the year we're likely to
fall into recession."

The length of the year - it was the biggest trouble of the the whole world. The
four seasons could

occur in a year that was anywhere between 299 to 448 days long. There was no clear
consistency in year length, no logic. The only thing that marked the ending of one
year and the beginning of the next was a solar eclipse.

Ever since the agricultural revolution thousands of years ago, the prediction of
the year's length had been the prime obsession of man-kind. As the world moved into
the post-modern era, science had finally yielded the calendrical algorithm,
supposedly capable of predicting the year to the day, if not the hour.

Except, it wasn't always accurate. Every few years there was a deviation. Sometimes
it was only a day or two too long or too short - there would be a need to call in
emergency food reserves, a couple million coins would be lost from the imperial
treasury and the stock market would plummet - though within a few months everything
would stagger back into place.

In the past decade, however, the deviations had become more and more dramatic and
the economy and all of society had suffered greatly due to this. Economists
predicted that one more drastic deviation and the chaos unleashed on the world
would be terrible.

"Did someone mention the calendrical algorithm?" A group of brightly-dressed nobles

gravitated towards them, each one sporting more frills and colours than the next.
The speaker was a woman with black hair and a long green evening dress. There were
green gems woven into her hair and at her throat she wore a heavy golden pendant
shaped like a six-pointed star. House of Morway, Alleria noted, richest in the
empire.

The nobles that came were mostly

women, all eying the two Dagens hungrily. Alleria remembered that Count Dagen
refused to allow any of his sons to marry until Salem Dagen, his favourite and
heir, would find an appropriate bride.

That explained much of Samson's ire.

"I never knew you were interested in science, Samson," continued the black-haired
woman. "The matter of the calendar has always been such a fascination to me, ever
since I was a child. You see, I was born on the 31st of Sol, so my birthday happens
only when the year is longer."

"That means this year will be your third birthday even though the year you were
born was 27 years ago," Alleria said, smiling. She allowed childish wonder to
appear on her face.

The noblewoman laughed delightedly. "How did you know?"

"When I saw you, I could only tell you were in your twenties. In the past thirty
years there had only been one instance of a full Sol month, in your 25.Nerus.IV.
Since then, four years ago you celebrated your second birthday in year 15.Tarris,
and in two months would be your third."

"Oh, Lady Erna, I had no idea you were underage," teased a pretty blond noblewoman
at her side in a dress that looked like a gauzy maroon window-curtain held up by
countless brass buttons.

Lady Erna Morway laughed and broke away from the group to examine Alleria closely.
"You know, I can't imagine why people were saying such horrible things about you. I
think you're absolutely spectacular." She took Alleria's hand. "Would it be too
forward of me to invite you to my birthday, scholar Bellencreek? I like you."

It was probably part of some game and

Lady Morway was playing her for a fool. Yet Alleria was still moved by the gesture,
by the daring way Lady Morway pushed forward. Whatever her will and intentions
were, Alleria was now curious about this woman. "I would be delighted, my lady."

Lady Morway squeezed her hand before letting it go, she looked into Alleria's eyes
from under long, dark lashes. "I'll send an invitation through your patron, then,
my dear."

Laughter fluttered among the group and the talk soon moved on to birthdays and the
upcoming Year-Day celebrations when the solar eclipse would take place.

Alleria met Dagen's gaze for but a moment in between bouts of conversation. He
conveyed his thanks to her with the briefest of smiles before looking away. She
wondered if what Samson was implying was true. Was Dagen prone to chasing skirts?
She noted how he seemed to know how to sell compliments to each of the women he
conversed with, looking at them as if they were the very centre of the world.

She assumed that that was the source of her own infatuation. She wasn't accustomed
to men like him, she had to watch herself around him.
But that was fine, Alleria had to watch herself around just about everyone.

Afterwards, dinner was served. Alleria tasted baked quail that melted on her
tongue, cooked sea bream and roasted lamb. Seppira made her sample red wine, which
caused her to feel like her head was filled with cotton. Then, after countless
other courses and conversations, all five of the Paramount were taken to a separate
room off the hall where their photo was taken, together and each one separately. A
closely scrutinised

reporter in a smart black suit asked them a few polite questions.

When he reached Alleria, his plastic grin broadened. "Would it be alright if I

described you as 'the innocent wide-eyed prodigy'?"

"Yessir."

Breathing down his neck was the silken-haired woman in the golden dress who had
greeted them at the edge of the emerald carpet. She was still holding her clipboard
and watched them all with an eagle's glare.

"What do you make of the imperial palace, Miss?" asked the reporter.

"It's marvellous, sir. I'm at awe from everything."

"At awe. Perfect." He wrote her answer down in his small notepad. "Have you decided
on a subject for your research project for the next academic year?"

It was a reasonable question to ask. While the first and second half-year exams
were just exams, in the third half-year she was required to hand in a thesis paper
in a subject of her choosing. Even now, every person admitted into the Academy
would be hard at work on this. It was a huge opportunity, a place where many
scholars rose - but others fell.

And Alleria hadn't, in fact, thought about it at all.

She was expected to. But she had been too busy being carved up by the Church. Her
mind flailed, probing and latching onto the nearest subject. "The calendrical
algorithm, sir," she said before she could stop herself.

Surprise rippled through the room, the other four of the Paramount turned to openly
stare at her. The research subject should be a safe bet, something that was not so
heavily laden with direct influence on the whole world. It needed to be something
she'd excel in enough to impress the Board of Scholars. Taking on a subject so
important could be her demise.

And she couldn't back out now. She should have said her research was a secret, she
should have told him she was still considering various options. She had committed
herself to her own ruin.

The reporter almost exploded with delight. "The girl tackles the dragon, who will
come out victorious?" he said as he wrote down her answer.

A/N: Finally, FINALLY a new chapter! It's long and introduces many important themes
into the book. Alleria's potential, for instance, is one of the most remarkable and
frightening things about her. We've gotten to see more of Dagen here, what are your
thoughts about him? WHAT do you think he is? Is he good news or bad news for our
Alleria?
Also, Seppira is showing more of herself. It would be interesting to see more of
her story since she is also a demon, what do you think attracted her Individual to
her?

Also, we've been introduced to Lady Erna Morway, one of the richest women in the
empire and the Calendrical algorithm, the thing that holds the whole world from
falling into total chaos. While the algorithm is a lot more important than Morway,
what do you you think of either of them?

=================

Chapter 20 - Summer's End

Chapter 20 - Summer's End

Even though the window was open wide, the room was stiflingly hot. The summer air
was heavy and damp, sitting on Alleria like a wet, smothering blanket. She rolled
onto her stomach in the giant bed, bunching up her hair on the top of her head to
allow the back of her neck to cool.

Mathematical formulae, equations and flow charts flashed before her eyes.

What had she gotten herself into?

The moment she returned from the palace, she had begun pouring over the algorithm.
Even for someone like her, it was the most complicated thing she had ever
encountered. It filled the entirety of eight large volumes, five hundred pages
each. There were just so many rules and equations, so many notes, exceptions and
calculations, so many varying factors. Over time, the algorithm had grown fatter
and fatter so that understanding it was like balancing a needle on a tower of
cards. It would take years just to study it as it was, how did she dare think she
was capable of improving it?

What had come over her?

Sighing, she slipped off the bed, selecting a white, fluffy towel from the pile of
fresh towels on the rack by the wardrobe and padded into the adjacent bathroom to
wash up. While Alleria's parents were settling into a new apartment, she had been
instructed to stay in the Malluri mansion for the remainder of the summer where
she'd be under the constant protection of Mr. Minsuit and his people. She didn't
know whether this precaution was even necessary anymore. The Church couldn't
possibly come after her now that so much attention

was directed at her and the emperor himself had interest in her.

But the dingy cell and the stone table crusted with old, dry blood still invaded
her mind when she wasn't paying attention. No amount of cognitive abilities could
push down the fear that sometimes rushed through her heart. It wasn't that she felt
safe here, but she had access to answers for questions that could help her overcome
her own fragility.

Like understanding the music of the demons world, for instance. It was constant,
while she slept, when she was awake, she could now hear the song of the shadowlands
everywhere, in every second of the day. It radiated in waves out of places,
sometimes louder while other times it was little more than soft whisper at the edge
of her hearing.
"Do you hear the music too?" Alleria had asked Seppira several days ago.

And Seppira had worn an expression of pity when she replied with a simple nod.
"It's what happens to people like us, Alleria," she had said after a long moment of
silence. "One day, it will be unbearable and that will be the day when you close a
circle with the demon world."

"Close a circle?"

"There will be no beginning, no end, you will be a demon and the demon will be you.
In this world or in that world, you will both be equally here and there. It isn't
painful, I hear."

"Will I... still be me?"

Seppira drew in a shuddering breath and shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows? The
ones I've met who have closed the circle knew how to hide it well, but I noticed
that they lacked... something. It's like they couldn't remember what it's like to

be human anymore. But I'm sure that to them, they still are who they are."

Alleria had, doubtlessly, looked preoccupied by this information. It wasn't her

imagination, she really was losing herself. Seppira grinned and ruffled her hair.
Clicking her tongue, she said, "It's not for years to come. You'll be a great old
woman, you'll have lived your life. Over time, everything and everyone changes in
one way or another. Is it so bad to eventually become a being that is more magic
and mystic than anything?"

"But still," Alleria had said after a moment of contemplation, "it does make me
feel a little melancholy."

Alleria emerged out of the bathroom dressed and ready for her day. She was
towelling her wet hair half-heartedly. It wouldn't be long until the day's
stickiness would make her want to take another shower. After hanging the towel over
the half-opened wardrobe door to dry, she looked up and gasped, her heart jumping
into her throat.

There was someone standing in the room.

Alleria relaxed. It was just a little girl, albeit one she had never seen before.
Perhaps the daughter of one of Mr. Malluri's guests? This was the guest wing, after
all. The girl wore a long white sleeveless night-gown and was standing by the
window, her profile to Alleria as she stared outside. She had shoulder-length brown
hair, a small, pale face that looked strikingly familiar.

"Hullo miss," Alleria greeted her cheerfully, "I wasn't expecting any visitors. How
nice of you -"

The girl turned to look at Alleria and although the morning was terribly hot, a
chill crept down her skin.

The

girl was Alleria.

Although only about ten years old, she knew she was looking at herself. Alleria
looked down at the girl's bare feet, they weren't touching the ground and the
music, she should have noticed, was stronger than ever.
A demon. One of the Many?

"You've forsaken him," said her ten-year-old self in her ten-year-old voice. "He
loves you, he calls to you, he yearns for you, but you've forsaken him."

"What do you want?" Alleria whispered. "Who are you talking about?"

"You know."

"Where is he?" She was shouting now, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. "Please,
tell me how to find him!"

"Cheater. Liar. Manipulator. Betrayer. You know how and where, pretender. He waits
for you still."

And then Alleria's demon doppelgänger turned and walked into the wall, vanishing
like a ghost.

"WHERE IS HE?" Alleria cried out in the empty room.

The the echoes of her shouts and the music were settling down just as Seppira
barged into the room.

"Are you alright? I heard..." Seppira lowered her tone at the sight of Alleria's
tear-streaked face. "...shouting."

***

Minsuit looked worried as he inspected the spot where the demon had appeared. He
was down on his hands and knees and then rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a
small, silvery, flat, rectangular box that resembled a cigarette case. When he
opened it, however, Alleria saw that it was divided into two sections. One
contained long, fine pieces of white chalk while the other similarly long and thin
sticks of charcoal.

"Let me get this straight,"

Minsuit said as he selected a piece of chalk and started writing something on the
floor. "You saw a demon that looked like you?"

Alleria crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned against the wardrobe door. Her
room was a mess, with books opened on every available surface, the floor littered
with broken pens, crumpled pieces of paper and empty ink bottles. It was surprising
how, in just a few days, she had managed to wreak such havoc on an innocent room.
"I saw myself as I was when I was ten years old."

"And it talked to you?" Seppira asked. She was lounging on the unmade bed with her
sandalled feet dangling in the air.

"Aye."

"That's rare, for one of the Many that came here on its own. They have to be
summoned and bound for them to talk." Seppira rubbed her chin thoughtfully and
looked at Minsuit. "What did it say?"

Alleria lowered her eyes to the floorboards. "It talked...about Cassel."

"Cassel? Selma's boy?" Seppira asked. "The one that Willum -" she was silenced by a
look from Minsuit.

"The one that Willum, what?" Alleria asked.

"Never you mind," Minsuit replied.

"I do mind. Willum is an occultist too, isn't he? He's the one who summoned Cassel
back from the demon world and bound him."

Minsuit put down the chalk he had been using and selected a stick of charcoal
instead. He began writing on the wall. "Do you know what the prerequisite condition
to becoming an occultist is?"

Alleria pulled out the chair from behind the desk, sitting down and crossing her
legs at the ankles. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully, "but I'd wager

it's some sort of inborn talent or inclination?"

Seppira snorted.

"Am I wrong?" Alleria asked.

"No, you're correct," Minsuit said. "From birth, we sense the hues of power created
by both worlds, we see them, we can touch, taste and smell them, but we can't, of
course, hear them."

"Only demons can hear the music," Alleria whispered as she looked at Seppira. A
heaviness weighed down on her heart.

"Among humans, only those called devil-spawn, like you and Seppira, hear the Chant
and the Harmony," Minsuit agreed. "No one knows why some are born with an awareness
for the Otherworld without having ever been there. There is, of course, a matter of
heritage, but often this quality skips several generations. That aside, talent
alone does not make one an occultist."

"Is Willum still learning to become an occultist? Is that it?"

A look of disgust crossed Minsuit's features, a rare clear glimpse into how he
genuinely felt. "He was a reckless amateur. A lonely, rebellious child that
disregarded my teachings and warnings. In his stumbling, he unmade himself."
Minsuit put away the charcoal and closed the silver case, stuffing it into his
inner jacket pocket. "He has broken his own spirit and squandered his natural gifts
for his own selfish amusement and pleasure." He rose to his feet and brushed dust
off his trousers. "No, Miss Bellencreek, he is not an occultist and he will never
be one."

"What happens to someone whose spirit has broken?" Alleria asked.

Minsuit, rising to his feet, frowned deeply and then resumed his usual
undistinguishable expression. "I have

inserted protections in place, we will discuss your meeting with this demon later,
Miss Bellencreek." He then turned on his heel and headed towards the door.

"Mr. Minsuit." Feeling an onslaught of stubbornness, she jumped up, sticking out
her chin. "Please answer my question."

Minsuit stopped by the door, she couldn't see his face but his round shoulders
rolled as he sighed.
"Those with the ability to sense the Otherworld who have had their sprit broken
eventually become exorcists, Miss Bellencreek," he finally answered.

***

Alleria sat cross-legged on the floor and examined the chalk and charcoal markings
that Minsuit had left in her room. She had expected runes or writing in a long lost
language, or that the words would glow and vanish when the magic was complete.

What she saw was numbers and shapes. Equations alongside simple geometry. Indeed,
there was a meaning and a language associated with this writing, but it wasn't
alien. It felt familiar and correct. The equations seemed simple to the naked eye,
but after a deeper examination she realised that in every twist and turn they
contained subtle complexity.

The more she looked at them, the more at ease she became. This was the occult arts?
It felt to her like the purest strain from the music of the demon world translated
into numbers.

In the days that followed, as she poured over the algorithm, every time she looked
at Minsuit's equations she still felt the tingling sensation of wonder that
happened whenever something obscure finally made sense

Unfortunately, this feeling of clarity did not apply

to the algorithm itself. The more she divulged of that the less it made any sense
at all, the more uncomfortable it all became.

Alleria's frustration reached dangerous heights. It was a hopeless task, an

unbreakable puzzle. Between the lines she could sense the blood, sweat and tears of
those who tried, and failed, before her.

***

On a bright, cloudless afternoon several days later, after Alleria returned from
lunch with her parents she was asked to attend Mr. Malluri in his study. Whenever
she saw him, she felt worried about her patron. Although his mood had improved
significantly after her admittance into the High Academy, he was still looking
harrowed and depressed by Willum's absence.

Thoughts of Willum made her sick. The loathing he had felt towards her now
explained in greater depth by Minsuit's revelation. How he had spoken to her, how
he ordered her to leave his car, it was all the powers of an exorcist. Did Mr.
Malluri know what his own son had become? Was this another thing that ailed him?

"I have a business trip to Galberry next week and I think I won't make it back till
Year Day," he said as she entered his office. "I would just like to go over your
schedule before I leave."

Alleria sat across from him, placing her hands on her knees as usual. "I hadn't
realised my schedule was so busy, sir," she said with a wry smile.

"Haha, there's not an idle moment for a scholar, Miss Bellencreek. You've received
a number of invitations to events over the summer and we must decide which you will
be attending and which you can politely refuse. I saw you've

already agreed to attend the birthday of Lady Erna Morway at the end of next month.
Very good choice, you'll always want the Morways on your side. Work towards making
a grand impression while there. I also think you should attend The Historians
Society's event. They asked for you as a lecturer as the youngest scholar in
history. They're a kindly crowd and it would be good practice. What else..." Mr.
Malluri paused to sift through the papers on his desk. He squinted at a letter
written on expensive paper. "Oh, don't suppose you're interested in marriage?
You've received about two dozen offers."

Alleria shook her head in reply.

"Thought so." He chuckled, throwing several letters on the floor by the bin. "Aha!"
he cried when he found the paper he was looking for. "I've received an interesting
invitation from the embassy of Salatok, the ambassador would like to have you as a
guest in a small dinner party in -"

Mr. Malluri stopped talking abruptly and stared out the window behind Alleria's
back. "I could have sworn..." he began and then his voice trailed away. "What's the
time?"

"A little after two o'clock, sir," Alleria said, turning to look out the window.
For a long moment, she couldn't understand what in the world had disturbed Mr.
Malluri. Then it occurred to her. She could see the pale blue of the summer sky
from the window, as well as the lush green lawn that was cooking in the sun.
Except, there was something decidedly off about the quality of the sunlight, as if
a flimsy cloud was hiding the sun.

"I don't suppose you have a few extra pairs of dark-goggles lying around, Mr
Malluri?" she asked trying to keep her voice as calm as she could.

"As a matter of fact..." Mr. Malluri smiled and opened a drawer in his desk,
pulling out two pairs of used and worn goggles.

Alleria snatched the pair that looked slightly smaller, ignoring its dusty, mouldy
smell as she adjusted it onto her face and stumbled from her chair towards the
window. She hurriedly wrestled with the window latch. She knew it was silly, even
if it was what she thought it was, there was no reason to rush. Yet she had a
pressing need to know at once. Her heart raced as the window opened and she popped
her head outside, looking up.

Up at the sun.

"Oh no. This is bad." She clasped her hand over her mouth. The ramifications of
such a thing slashed through her thoughts.

Mr. Malluri joined her at the window and sighed when he saw what she saw. "You
might want to step up you research on the Algorithm, Miss Bellencreek. I sense that
the matter has become quite pressing."

Alleria could only nod numbly.

The eclipse marking the end of one year and the beginning of another had come.

And it was nearly two months early.

A/N - So, what're your thoughts about Willum now, hm? And where the hell is he? The
year has ended and Alleria is finally going to begin her life in the High Academy
of Scholars.
=================

PART 2

PART 2

"...Doth the demons still bide and plot

In the myriad paths of eternal night?

Cultivating decay, propagating decadence

Doubt not the might of their heinousness

For even the purest of heart

Are subject to complacency ..."

- The Book of Lavasana 97:2

=================

Out of "The Clarity"

September 1st 20.Tarris

STOCK MARKET CRASHES, THE BANKS ON THE BRINK OF COLLAPSE. EMPEROR TARRIS ADDRESSES
THE PUBLIC

A mournful silence hangs over the Callivar Stock Exchange Centre this morning
following the trading half the Emperor called to prevent the market's further
decline. The opening bell will only be heard later today after prices will be
amended to accommodate the change in the previous year's length. The shockingly
premature appearance of the solar eclipse yesterday triggered the panic that caused
a staggering crash with the Avery Lort average at 12% at closing - the lowest it
has been in the last decade.

"I call to the public to remain calm," His grace, Emperor Tarris, first of His name
addressed the public in an emergency press conference early this morning. "What we
are experiencing is a momentary setback in the algorithm due to a slight change in
the rotation of the planets. We must not lose our faith in a tool that has served
us for hundreds of years. As we speak, the imperial bureaucracy is hard at work,
introducing new equations into the algorithm that are due to be operative in a
month's time. Thanks to these corrections, the year's length will be predicted with
an accuracy we have never seen before."

While the emperor's words are reassuring - as they wont to be - other governments
would see the algorithm's temporary failure as an opportunity to seize power from
the empire. Aigrette Sef Kort, a Feremick mathematician, claims to have created a
new algorithm that has been proven with an accuracy of 0.4%. If said algorithm will
be found worthy of reaching operative status, it is feared that this may threaten
the long-standing allegiance and dependency between the holy empire and 146
countries across the globe.

"The public's panic is justified," Former Scholar Shimmering criticises the

emperor's statement in an interview with "The Clarity". "It's a frightening
situation when you can't know how the year will look. How could we leave our money
to the banks and the stock market if we have no certainty that it won't lose its
value because the length of the year can't be predicted? The fear is causing
everyone to pull out, which causes more people to pull out. The issue of the
algorithm has been waiting to explode for ages. What will happen if the year is
shorter again next year - or even worse. What if next year is a year that will
never end? I have no doubt we're at the beginning of a terrible Depression."

While it is safe to believe that the problem will be addressed and solved one way
or another in due time, the question still remains, who in the imperial bureaucracy
will be heading the new amendments to the algorithm? So far, the only scholar to
speak up on the matter is Fifth Paramount, Miss Alleria Bellencreek, the newest
oddity in imperial politics. Thus, are we to assume that our great and competent
bureaucracy has left our fate in the young hands of the female wonder child?

=================

Chapter 21 - Mr. Tinpoint

Chapter 21 - Mr Tinpoint

Alleria tucked a glistering lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear, blinking at her
reflection in the looking glass. She sighed at the sight of herself and her sigh
echoed in the large, spacious chamber making her cringe.

She was in Ortkerry Tower, the palace that sat atop the green hill in the heart of
the High Academy of Scholars and housed the Paramount.

There were ten flats in the tower, hers was called the Violet Orchid Suit for its
pink and purple flower-themed decor. It was made up of four large chambers such as
this and an enormous bathroom. Aside from the bedroom and her study, she had her
own dinning room and lounge. She didn't know how many times her parents' cottage in
the countryside would have fit inside this flat, all she knew was that the grand
scale made her feel smaller and lonelier than ever.

For the fourth time, she adjusted the collar of her light-blue robe, making sure it
hid her scars well. Even though the servants - it unnerved her that there were
servants - had already lit the fires in all four rooms of her flat, there always
seemed to be a draft blowing through the halls of this ancient palace. The ceiling,
so high up it was always shadowy in the evenings, was rounded, painted with murals
of brown owls and purple orchids, flecked with gold-leaf and framed by motifs of
vines and naked, dancing children.

It was beautiful but overbearing, the artwork weighing on her from overhead.
Everything creaked in the old palace and at night the wind howled through the
chimneys like a sad, dying wolf. She couldn't feel

at ease in this place. She had been living here for the past two months but it
would never be her home.

"Right, now listen here Alleria," she said to herself. She liked how her voice
disturbed the eerie silence. Clenching her fists, she swatted at the air in front
of her. "Chin up," she lifted her chin, "remember to breath," she drew a deep
breath, "you can do this."
Back straight as a board, she began the march towards her study. The floorboards
creaked shrilly in her ears. She crossed her lounge and opened the study door.

The comforting, dusty smell of musty old books, ink and paper assailed her senses.
She inhaled it hungrily and slipped into the padded, leather throne-like chair
behind her massive black mahogany desk. The room was the only one she liked in her
suit. Aside from the wall behind her on which hung a greenboard, the room was lined
with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Her library was magnificently diverse, from modern
journals on science to beautiful edition of the classics in literature and on to
her favourite works on architecture, philosophy and agriculture. Whoever had
assembled this collection had exquisite taste. She always felt a swelling feeling
of companionship when faced with the tomes standing proudly upon the shelves.

Today, however, her attention was not directed at the books. She sat focused
completely on the oval table at the centre of the room. It had six empty chairs
surrounding it. She looked at the door and then at her watch, then to the memo she
had received from the Fortcain College.

A no show? Well, she couldn't decide if that was

a good or bad thing. The two others had made it all the way here only to turn her
down with open scorn. Alleria's shoulders relaxed. She pulled over from the corner
of her desk the third volume of the algorithm and her forty-seventh notebook,
dipped a new pen in ink and resumed her work.

Eighteen minutes later there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Alleria's mouth said, though her eyes and thoughts were still focused
entirely on her work.

The door opened a crack. "Erm..." said a breathless voice.

"You're late," Alleria stated drily without looking up.

"I, er, that's, um... this place is huge."

"Aye, how observant you are, Mr. Wayne Tinpoint of Fortcain College."

Tinpoint looked left and right before pushing the door open and waltzing into the
room. He dumped his battered briefcase in one of the empty chairs and cleared his
throat loudly. Alleria took the time to silently examine him. He was pale and
bespectacled, his shirt was badly wrinkled and he had a coffee stain on his
trousers near the knee. His socks were of two completely different shades of brown
and his curly brown hair stood like a pile of whipped cream to the left of his
head.

He was thin, lanky and tall and looked no more than twenty-five although Alleria
knew for a fact that he was almost fifteen years older.

"So, he's not here? Did he leave?"

Alleria stared at him, careful to keep her face blank. "Who?"

"Mr. Bellencreek, the fifth Paramount," Tinpoint said haughtily while rolling his
eyes at her obvious ignorance.

Alleria leaned back into her chair. "Do

you have a document pertaining your assignment to this tutor?" she asked, coldly.
He didn't seem to notice her tone and clicked his tongue as he unclasped his
briefcase pulling out a dirty and crumpled letter and, after a feeble attempt at
straightening it out, handed it to Alleria.

She read over it and then gave it back to him, crossing her arms over her belly.
"Mr. Tinpoint, how did you come to be assigned to the fifth Paramount?"

"My old tutor, you probably haven't heard of him -"

"Scholar McTolarc," Alleria offered.

"Yes, yes, so, he finally opened his eyes and recognised my genius and sent me
here. I think this is the year it's going to happen."

"What is?"

"This year I'm going to complete my thesis!" he announced excitedly.

"That's wonderful." Alleria tapped the tips of her fingers together in modest
applause. "How many years have you been writing your thesis, Mr Tinpoint?"

Tinpoint rubbed his chin and counted fingers for nearly a whole minute. "Twelve,"
he finally concluded.

Alleria nodded slowly. "I'm afraid you've been mislead, Mr. Tinpoint."

"Meaning?"

"There's no Mr. Bellencreek in the High Academy of Scholars."

"Oh?"

"The only Mr. Bellencreek I know of is an imperial Hand."

"Huh?"

"And is also my Da."

Alleria waited for her words to sink in, but Tinpoint continued to look at her
blankly for several moments more.

"Oh," he said after a long spell of silence. "But... you're a girl."

"The master of perception strikes again!"

"And you're... you look like you're less than twenty."

"I'll

be turning seventeen in a little over a month."

Tinpoint sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. He collapsed into one of the empty
chairs, defeated. His face, now slightly lined and fallen, betrayed the fact that
he was indeed over nearly forty years old. "Then this was... what? An elaborate
joke? A sinister prank?"

Alleria waited, she wouldn't rush this, even though she wanted to.
He looked at the crumpled note still held in his hand. "When I received the
message, for the first time in so many years I felt... excited." He glared at her,
as if the mis-type had been her fault. "Are you even a scholar?" He shook his head.
"Of course you're not, that was a stupid question."

"You don't get out much, do you, Mr. Tinpoint? Never read the news? Never listen to
the radio?"

"That's irrelevant," he snapped at her.

Alleria rose to her feet, her light-blue scholar's robe swished about as she slowly
walked round the big desk. "What if I told you that you can still have the fifth
Paramount as your tutor?"

Tinpoint looked at her with suspicious interest. "I'm listening."

She blinked, wondering for a moment how to best reveal the truth. Her face
brightened and she danced around the desk, pulling a newspaper out of the bottom
drawer then placing it on the table in front of Tinpoint.

As he read, she noted, he didn't move his lips. Then his eyes fell on the
photograph of the five of the Paramount. He leaned forward, bringing his face so
close to the paper that his long, pointed nose touched it.

There was an interesting moment in which he looked from the paper

to her and then back, as if trying to assess whether his eyes weren't playing
tricks on him.

"You're..... You're the fifth Paramount?" He rose to his feet.

"I looked at your research, Mr. Tinpoint," she said quickly, "I think you're on to
something. I think we can help each other and fix the algorithm."

"How are you the fifth Paramount?" he asked in a whisper.

"Or maybe start over and make a new Calendrical Algorithm."

"But.... To become a scholar, it requires a lifetime of study and dedication. I've

met some bright people in my life, but this is... this can't be."

Alleria crossed her arms, finally feeling that her patience was at its end. This
would be the third student to reject working with her in the past two months. "You
obviously have a lot to take in, Mr. Tinpoint. I'll give you a few days to think it
over before I contact the next -"

"Wait."

Alleria stopped talking and held Tinpoint's gaze, trying to look annoyed and
impatient rather than hopeful.

"If you're the fifth Paramount and you're bent on fixing the algorithm, I honestly
don't care what shape you come in," he said. "I've been waiting for this
opportunity my whole life."

To hide the twinkle that was doubtlessly even now sparkling in her eyes, she bent
over to retrieve the newspaper. "Then meet me here tomorrow morning eight o'clock
sharp." she snapped, trying to sound as authoritative as she could. She stalked
back towards her desk, put the newspaper into the drawer and slipped into her seat,
returning to what she had been working on before Tinpoint walked in.

After a moment, she looked up. "You're still here?"

"Ah. Oh, I was just leaving," said Tinpoint, scratching his head. He patted his
pockets and then picked up his briefcase, ambling towards the door.

"Mr. Tinpoint?" Alleria said just as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Yes?"

"Don't be late."

He grimaced. "I won't, Miss fifth Paramount."

And then he left, carefully closing the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Alleria let out the breath she had been holding. She told herself
that that act was necessary only for today. From tomorrow onward, she would not
have to dance between the drops and tie her stomach in knots. She was fifth
Paramount, already two months in the High Academy yet people still wouldn't take
her seriously.

Unless she was unbendable and strong, holding them on a short leash, not giving
them a moment to doubt her. She nestled back into her chair and closed her eyes.

If only being tough wasn't so exhausting.

=================

Chapter 22 - Budding Friendships

Chapter 22 - Budding Friendships

The High Academy of Scholars was a more isolated place than Alleria had
anticipated. Until Tinpoint started working with her, she had spent entire days
without talking to another human being.

She considered adopting a cat.

Sometimes, she forgot the fact that there were other scholars at all. Luckily,
there were dinners Alleria had to attend four evenings a week in the banquet hall
in the extravagant Arbaro Palace that housed the rest of the new scholars that had
been admitted with her. Sitting apart in the high table assigned for the Paramount,
the Board of Scholars and special guests, she saw the other ninety-five scholars
spread beneath her. Most were middle-aged men like Kempett, though when together
they acted like schoolboys, talking amiably, laughing and teasing each other.

There was a small cluster of about fifteen women among them. They were a closed
group, stiff and wary. They must have fought hard for the chance to be admitted
into the academy and just because they made it in didn't mean their war was over.
Alleria didn't blame them, like her, they had invaded a world that was essentially
owned and run by old men.

Sometimes, she saw these women flocking around Lady Freya, their expressions
overflowing with admiration and occasionally, she noticed them sending dark glances
her way.

Among the Paramount, it was easier. Only Kempett treated her with open disdain.
Zalee Salah was civil and occasionally bordering on friendly. Although Alleria had
hoped for more out of her, Lady Freya was merely indifferent.

The older woman was not an overly talkative person by nature and had even less to
say to Alleria. Lord Dagen came to drink tea with her once a week, which at first
had embarrassed her to no end, but then she had learned that he drank tea with each
of the other Paramount. This was just his way, his strategy. Dagen had a knack for
talking with people. If Alleria would have made the attempt she just wouldn't know
what to talk about with all these people.

She wasn't popular, that much was obvious. She had come expecting loneliness, but
she hadn't expected loneliness to feel this depressing.

These days, Alleria had to force a smile. She tried her best to be motivated, to
keep pushing forward. The half-year exams were only a few weeks away, and she was
obliged to shift her focus from working on the algorithm to the other studies she
had neglected.

She was curled in the big chair in her study one afternoon, her legs dangling over
the leather armrest, one of her socked feet swinging back and forth as she nibbled
the blunt end of her wooden pen and read from a large book that was almost twice as
thick as her waist.

A brief knock at the door disturbed the heavy silence.

"Come in," Alleria called without really paying attention.

She looked up in time to see Lord Dagen walk in bearing a small white cardboard
box. Her face flushed as she hurriedly straightened, trying to look presentable. It
was impossible. Her hair was piled messily on the top of her head, held in place by
an extra pencil she had stuck through the knot and she was dressed in a simple
buttoned up shirt and

black slacks with nothing on her feet but socks.

The top buttons of her shirt were undone. She wondered if it would be too obvious
if she buttoned up now. It wasn't exposing some bosom she was worried about - it
was hard to expose something she barely had - it made her feel ill at ease to have
her scars so blatantly visible for him to see.

She looked at the calendar hanging on the wall. Today was Friday, their teas
together were every Tuesday. Alleria was too confused about this unscheduled visit
to come up with anything to say and in the end all she did was blink at Dagen
silently.

He grinned at her obvious bewilderment. "I thought you'd be busy, that's why I
came." He shifted aside some papers that littered her desk and put the box down.

"You came because I'm busy?" she asked dumbly, her mind trying to find the logic in
his words.

Dagen pulled up a chair and sat across from her. He was always comfortable in
everyone's presence. Why wouldn't he be? He was a prodigy too, though twenty six
was a more appropriate age for prodigies to be. He was high born, good looking and
a man. There was no better person to fill the spot of First Paramount. If there was
anyone Alleria occasionally envied, it was him.
How much life would have been easier if she had been him. Often she wondered what
she stood to gain by walking this path and why it had seemed so appealing to her in
the first place.

"Well?" he said, looking at her expectantly.

She started playing nervously with a strand of her hair that had never made it into
her messy hair-do. "Sorry, my lord, I fail to understand

-" Her voice trailed off. She looked at the calendar again and blinked several
times, her face growing very hot.

Dagen started laughing. "You're as red as a beet," he said, slapping his thigh in
mirth.

"I... I forgot," she mumbled, tucking her chin down, her hands clenched into fists
in her lap. For some inexplainable reason, she felt the weight of tears well behind
her eyes. She bit her lip, hard. She would not start weeping in the presence of
Lord Dagen.

When she was safely composed, she cocked her head to the side. "How did you know?"

"I make it my business to know these things about people who interest me."

Of course that would be his answer. He leaned forward and opened the box. "Happy
birthday, Miss Bellencreek."

Inside was a small, chocolate birthday cake decorated by blue and pink sugary
roses. She should have noticed the golden logo on the box. The cake was from the
infamous Archer's Pastries, the most esteemed pastry shop in Callivar - if not the
whole world.

He pulled a candlestick from his pocket and quickly lit it with a match. "I forgot
to include birthday candles," he said, cheerfully. "This will have to do."

"One candle?"

"Your first birthday."

"Don't make me any younger than I already am," she said, looking at the flame.

"Don't be impatient with your age, Miss Bellencreek. You've achieved in a short
time more than most people achieve in their entire lives. You should be proud."

There was no point to argue, or share her worries. And it was not as if there
wasn't any truth in his words. She was here after

all. She had come so far. "I suppose you're right."

"See it as your first birthday as a scholar, or the first birthday you celebrate
with me."

It was odd, the way he said it, as if he were implying that she was with him in
other ways than just currently in his company.

He noticed her hesitation. "I apologise, Miss Bellencreek, I don't know any of the
songs."
"Don't they sing in birthdays in your family?"

He smiled. "Birthdays aren't celebrated in my family."

"In that case," - Alleria tried her best to return the smile and found it was easy
- "maybe it's better to be from the village."

She drew a deep breath and blew out the candle.

She had been looking at Dagen's face, her head had been blank, she forgot to make a
wish.

***

The cake had been delicious, Alleria remembered it even days later. The flavour of
the chocolate was sweet with a touch of rich bitterness and something spicy at the
very end. The soft, smooth texture had melted on her tongue and somehow, she felt a
pang of nostalgic blues - it reminded her of something Mam used to make. Her
parents called later that day, and over the phone line she got to hear the songs
that Dagen had not known.

It was a modest way to celebrate one's birthday, but being reminded that she was
loved gave her a new bout of cheerfulness that lasted for the days to come. She
missed her parents, the simple interaction that required absolutely no energy at
all was one she cherished now more than anything.

She was in her lounge, sitting cross-legged on the dark, polished wooden floor

with several different books opened around her in a circle. Whenever she felt her
mind wander from the subject she was reading, she'd move along the circle to the
next book, maintaining her focus in a constant rhythm.

Again, a knock at the door was what disturbed her. She got up and straightened her
light-blue robe, slipping her feet into slippers and ambling toward the door. It
was a young red-haired maid-servant, her turquoise frock sporting silver buttons
and on her short pocket she wore a golden squirrel pin. According to this, Alleria
could tell that this was the House-Keeper's assistant.

Alleria maintained a good relationship with all the servants, it was a lot easier
to talk to a servant than to anyone else. There were so many of them keeping and
maintaining the palace that she didn't get the chance to know any of them well
enough to make true and lasting friendships.

"Good afternoon," Alleria greeted her with a genuine smile.

"Your scholarship," said the servant with a quick bow. "Lady Erna Morway has come
to call upon you. She did not make an appointment, are you able to receive her?"

"Of course."

"I'll send her up, then." Another quick bow, the servant began retreating but then
she looked back and hesitated before saying, "Scholar Bellencreek?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Aye."
"The books in your library, are they... satisfactory?"

It took Alleria a moment to understand what the servant was asking. But then when
it dawned on her, her face brightened. "It was you, you assembled that collection?"

The servant recoiled. "I did, your

scholarship."

Alleria forgot herself, taking hold of both of the servant's hands. "It's
brilliant!" she exclaimed, knowing that she was happier than she should be to
discover the person behind her library. "That translation of Lorcapet - usually the
standard is the one translated by Minnely -"

"Oh, but Stenger's language is just -"

"Richer and deeper."

The servant's head bobbed up and down, nodding in wholehearted agreement. "And did
you see that edition of Jorban's Anthology -"

"How in the world did you find one with an authentic letter written by Vord Dormal
himself? I was so impressed!"

"Was just lucky," the servant said, enthusiastically, "I know the Head servant of
the Cirba household and when Grett Cirba passed, in her will she donated her books
to -" Suddenly, she became conscious of the position she was in. Her face became
the colour of ripe strawberries as she pulled away. "I'm sorry, your scholarship,
forgive me I -"

"What's your name?" Alleria cut her off.

"Gina Salmer," the servant said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Miss Gina, will you have dinner with me some time this week?"

Gina's eyes widened and for a moment she did nothing but gape at Alleria. Her
strawberry complexion didn't lessing when her fingers began to fidget together. She
blinked furiously. "I - I mustn't your scholarship, wouldn't that be a breach in
decorum?"

"Not in my opinion."

"But..." Gina bit her lip. "I suppose, if I'm off-duty?"

Alleria beamed. "Aye."

"I'll let you know when my next half-day is." She stood there some more, looking at
Alleria in disbelief, before she remembered herself. "I'll go fetch Lady Morway,"
she said, grinning sheepishly before excusing herself with a bow and walking away.

"Miss Gina," Alleria said to her retreating back, "thanks for the library, I love
it."
A/N - What's going on here with Dagen? Hmm? And yay, we finally meet Gina. This and
the previous chapter were more of getting us acquainted with the new setting and
introducing these two new characters. Now that we're beginning to understand what
life in the High Academy is like, we can start with the action again. If you
recognise the pattern, every moment of peace Alleria finds is followed by none
other than a big, bad boom of turmoil...

=================

Chapter 23 - A Memento

Chapter 23 - A Memento

Compared to the meeting with Gina, the interaction with Lady Morway left Alleria
feeling like she had run a thousand yards. It was another obstacle Alleria had to
face in her new life. Lady Morway seemed to have taken a shine to Alleria, she
enjoyed the gossip that surrounded her visits to the High Academy and on several
occasions had invited Alleria to her estate for a leisurely cup of afternoon tea.

This time, Alleria had been summoned to attend a modest dinner party, where, like a
in every such dinner party, she was looked upon like some exotic bird with
colourful feathers. Quillic made weekly visits to her flat in Ortkerry Tower,
arranging her hair and make up, choosing clothes befitting for such evenings with
the high society. Alleria's wardrobe was now quite heavy with expensive dresses
which she did not like to wear.

For the Morway dinner, she was dressed in floor-length b-line dress of a colour
that was somewhere between lilac and light blue. It was daring dress, with no
straps or sleeves. Her scars were hidden by a silken, lilac scarf that Quillic had
clasped with a golden, owl-shaped, diamond-studded brooch.

It was the most feminine attire chosen yet, and when Alleria questioned the
decision Quillic just shrugged. "Darling, this is Mr. Malluri's idea, he now wishes
to emphasise that you're a woman rather than a girl."

Alleria all but rolled her eyes, understanding the statement behind this. Malluri
would intend for his protégé to be wed eventually, tying him to some notable noble
family. In a way, it was a safety net for

his investment. She would be eligible for marriage when she turned eighteen in a
year's time and if she failed with the algorithm - which was not unlikely - then at
least she could be used for something. His offhand comment on the day of the
eclipse had been just a precursor, she was sure that it was only a matter of time
before he invited her for a talk about prospective marriages.

Although she could never get used to the splendour of the Morway estate, she still
enjoyed visiting it. It did not fall short when compared to the imperial art museum
in Callivar. On every wall were paintings in all sizes and shapes of the most
notorious artists in the history of the empire. The estate was rumoured to contain
three thousand different piece of artwork, though all were tastefully displayed in
exactly the correct positioning and lighting.

Alleria was almost moved to tears every time to saw the original Ogoltti's "Child
With One Eyebrow." The portrait of the grinning child, which was neither boy nor
girl, looked out at her from the painting mysteriously. One thick, black eyebrow
was arched questioningly and the other shaved off completely, creating a fractured
expression. Behind the child, the wood house burned and the starless night was dark
and black.

"You do love art, Scholar Alleria," Lady Erna said sweetly.

Alleria tore her gaze from the portrait. "It's spectacular. I don't know how you
manage to do anything in the house with that painting around."

Lady Erna laughed, and Alleria was led off into the dinning room. She was well-
schooled in etiquette by now, acting

her part like a marionette. Her mind would wander off, and she'd let an imaginary
puppeteer take hold of her body and voice. Her gestures and expressions
complimented every situations perfectly. She knew how to say the right thing, to
laugh in the appropriate moments, to show sympathy, wit and interest. It was all
according to code. With no actual emotion she knew how to arrange her face into the
correct expressions.

And in the meantime, like always, she wondered why no one had died of boredom yet.

In the course of yet another evening filled with people but empty of any content,
Alleria was only too aware of the amount of young men Lady Erna introduced her to,
reaffirming her suspicion that Malluri was itching for a betrothal.

It was well past one in the morning when she finally
Due to the particular acoustics of the tower, anyone
not use the central stairs without causing a racket.
Paramount's precious rest, Alleria was forced to use
passages to reach her flat.
returned to Ortkerry Tower.
returning after midnight could
Therefore, for the sake of the
the narrow maze of servant

She had not chanced coming this way more than twice before, and avoided it if she
could. The walls pressed closely together allowing the passage of people only in
single-file, giving the corridors and stairways a tunnel-like feeling. Not all of
the lamps were lit and she had to pass through spells of darkness, stumbling over
stairs and broken tiles.

But that was not what bothered her. The music was so strong here, it was
practically blaring, leaving her ears ringing in its wake. It almost felt like the
demon world

was lurking just outside her line of sight. She could feel the ghost touch of the
Many from behind the veil of darkness.

Tonight was worse than ever. There was something especially ominous about the
servant passages this time. The air smelled of danger and a warning rumbled at the
back of her mind. Nervously, she hugged her fur shawl closer round her shoulders,
trying not to shiver.

Creak.

The sound of someone moving down the stairs ahead sent her heart up into her
throat. The rational thought that other people could use this corridor too didn't
help. Whenever she had had this feeling of foreboding, she had faced a demon.

The shadows danced on the walls as a great hulking shape closed off the passage
before her. It moved sluggishly, dragging its feet, making some loose tiles wobble
and blotting out the light from the nearest lamp behind it.
It stopped when it noticed her. Its breathing was deep and laborious.

Alleria relaxed a little, it couldn't be a demon if it was breathing.

"You," it said poisonously. The voice was Kempett's voice, and now that he was
close enough, she could smell alcohol on his breath.

"Me," Alleria replied with casual indifference. She looked left and right, there
was a slight alcove in the wall by Kempett's shoulder, one of many installed in the
narrow corridors for precisely the purpose of allowing people to pass without
squeezing against each other. She gestured at the alcove. "If you would please, Mr.
Kempett."

He planted his feet apart and glowered at her. "I've got your number, little brat,"
he said, jabbing his finger in her direction. "I know

what you did to get here. But it won't help you, you're going to burn. You and all
those Malluris you hide behind."

"You've had too much to drink, sir," Alleria said in a level voice, her stomach
squeezing in on itself as she struggled to retain her composure. "Please let me
pass before you say anything more you'll regret."

Even in the darkness, Alleria noticed him smirk. It was a dangerous expression on a
man in such a state. He took a step closer, sneering at her. "Is that a threat?"

No, that wasn't what she meant. Automatically, she opened her mouth to deny and
then closed it. Perhaps it was the nearness of the demon-world and the late hour,
but something dark touched her heart just then. She would not be run down again,
she refused to be a victim.

"Yes, Mr. Kempett, this is a threat."

Alleria took a step closer, entering his personal space. On a usual day, she was
around the same height as him, but there in the corridor she seemed to grow taller,
looming over him intimidatingly. She could smell the sour odour of his sweat now,
the repulsive stench of alcohol and the exhilarating aroma of fear.

"Give me a reason," she spat, and her voice resonated back with a surreal echo as
feathery shadows danced at her feet. "Try to provoke me or get in my way, and I'll
hand you a fate worse than any death you can imagine."

"You can't threaten me," Kempett growled the words through gritted teeth, though
she could hear it was to hide the tremor in his voice.

"I just did." Her face felt warm from anger. "Now let me pass."

Kempett crossed his arms,

grimacing maliciously. "You don't have the authority to order me around. Little
peasant bitch that you are. I heard it all, I know all about it. You think you're
safe now, but Kai Johannes still remembers you and he'll get his chance soon
enough."

Alleria's hand shot forward from the confines of her fur shawl, shoving Kempett
backwards. He fell to the floor from the force of her push, landing hard on his
bottom. She was about to pass over him and hurry away when the sight of her hand
made her hesitate. Like thorns on the stem of a rose, her skin was studded with
small brown feathers and her fingernails curled into black claws.
Kempett whimpered at the sight of her, the musty air filling with the acrid smell
of urine. She threw back her shawl, releasing a shower of feathers. "You don't want
me as your enemy, Mr. Kempett."

And with those words she glided away with her feet an inch from touching the floor.

***

In her flat she locked and bolted the door then proceeded to turn on all the
lights. The feathers were gone. She threw off her high-heeled slippers and felt the
texture of the wooden floorboards through her silken tights as she stormed into her
study. She needed to calm her breathing and cool her head. Several moments later,
though, her heart still would not stop hammering. She pounced the telephone and
began dialling Mr. Minsuit's phone number.

And stopped, slamming down the receiver decidedly.

It was somehow already three in the morning. Whatever had happened, it could wait
to be talked about at a more reasonable hour. She was not a helpless child

anymore. But displaying herself in such a way before someone - anyone - was bound
to be a mistake.

But how did it happen?

Back in her bedroom, Alleria undressed, hanging another expensive dress which she
would never wear again in the wardrobe among its brethren.

In the bathroom, old pipes creaked and moaned as she took a shower so hot it was
almost scalding - yet nothing could clean away her nerves and the feeling that she
was helpless against the darkest aspects of her own nature. She let her tormented
thoughts drown in steam.

Her wet hair was wrapped in a towel as she dressed in her night-gown. She looked at
herself in the mirror. No matter how much oily lotion she used to remove her make
up, there was always errant blackness at the roots of her eyelashes which she could
never get off.

Alleria turned to get into her bed. While she made her bed every single day, the
servants came and tidied it up even more, stretching the the duvet so tightly over
the bed she could bounce coins off it and fluffing the pillows into a white pile of
springy comfort. For some strange reason though, one of her mufflers was dumped
across the foot of the bed, stretched out like a ribbon of dark green. She lifted
it, the soft wool streaming through her fingers.

When had she worn this? She usually was not the sort to throw about her clothes,
but even she had moments of distraction when she didn't notice where she placed her
belongings.

Still...

This muffler...

This muffler?

This muffler!

Her heart beat so fast she could feel it up to her throat.

It was the one she had given Cassel. He had been wearing it on the night he died.

Breathe. Breathe. Remember to breathe.

"Cassel?" she called quietly, not daring to move an inch.

Silence.

Alleria's fingers closed into fists, bunching up the muffler and pressing it
against her stomach.

Eyes closed, she inhaled deeply and exhaled. Everything felt thin and far away, her
head felt light.

"Cassel?"

Was she imagining it, or could she feel his presence? Was he here? The music was
not abnormally loud, there was no reason he would be here. Yet there was a prickle
at the back of her neck, as if someone was standing behind her.

She needed to turn around.

He was here, dead but here. She needed to turn around.

She slowly turned her head.

Nothing.

Alleria sighed. She looked down at the muffler, and brought it to her face,
sniffing it.

But it didn't have any smell besides old wool and a trace of her own perfume. Had
Cassel even had his own smell? She couldn't remember.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Cassel?" she whispered into the fabric.
"Where are you?"

Over there.

In her peripheral vision, something moved. She spun towards it, and gasped -

Then sighed. It was only her reflection in the looking glass on the wardrobe door.

But something tickled her ear, and she heard it. A fragment of a fragment of a
whisper.

Perhaps it was her imagination, perhaps it was only the draft that constantly blew
through these halls, but it sounded like words:

"'Leria. I'm right here."

A/N - What repercussions would the confrontation with Kempett have? Have you
noticed how Alleria has changed in the course of the story?

But anyway, Cassel's back! Though, in what consistency? And how? But more
importantly - is this a good thing for our Alleria?
=================

Chapter 24 - Dangerous Books

Chapter 24 - Dangerous Books

The morning bell tolled, informing the world that it was seven o'clock while
Alleria loitered in the corridor by the door biting her nails.

She was being ridiculous.

The wise thing to do was to go back to her flat right now, pick up the phone and
call Mr. Minsuit. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Nor had
she been able to go to sleep that night.

After her display with Kempett, she needed to keep herself scarce, lie low and stay
out of everyone's hair.

But Cassel was here. Somehow he was back.

And for an unexplainable reason, she felt...

She felt...

Frightened.

Alleria bit her lip. She wasn't only being ridiculous - she was a coward. And
besides, out of all the things to do about it, coming here was the worst option.

She shouldn't bother him, what would she tell him anyway? She turned to leave.

But just then the door opened.

"You're going to make a hole in floor in front of my door with your pacing," Zalee
Salah scolded.

Alleria froze and peeked over her shoulder. Zalee was looking more feminine that he
usually did when she saw him in Arbaro Palace. Wearing an impeccable pencil skirt
and loose white blouse with wide chiffon sleeves and a satin ribbon tying the
collar and hiding the scars of Zalee's own exorcism, Lady Salah looked quite smart.

Alleria rearranged the pronouns in her head to match what her eyes currently saw.
Even if the world could not easily adapt to a person who occupied in every given
moment both genders, Alleria was certainly willing

to try her best.

"Owl's ass, baby." Zalee seemed to notice Alleria's mane of tangled hair and the
shadows beneath her eyes that were in stark contrast with her pale, harrowed face.
"You look like something that's been slammed against the rocks." Zalee's eyes
travelled to Alleria's crumpled nightgown, taking in her stockings - one of which
had rolled down to her ankle - and bunny slippers. "Repeatedly," she added.

The tall Alaazian moved aside, letting her walk into the flat.

In layout, since it was on the same side of the tower only a flight higher, Zalee's
flat was similar to Alleria's. But instead of a flowery patterns, it was decorated
with noblemen riding galloping horses amidst a mess of dogs as they hunted down
frightened deer and boars. The ceiling mural was painted in hues of orange and
mustard yellow with splashes of red where the animals had been successfully hunted.

It was a truly unpleasant design.

She followed Zalee into the lounge and tried not to wrinkle her face at the sight
of the stuffed boar's head staring down at them with glassy eyes from the wall over
the mantlepiece.

"The is the Hunter's suit. Very manly." Zalee seemed to find amusement in the
design, laughing as she put on the electric kettle in the corner for tea. "Have a
seat, the rug doesn't bite... much."

Alleria gingerly walked round the bear pelt rug and sank into the black leather
sofa. She tired not to fidget as her mind raced through the reasons she was here
and what she could possibly say.

It was some time before Zalee finished preparing tea and brought over a flowery
porcelain

tea set similar to the one Mam had prized so much. The pink rose pattern made
Alleria's stomach summersault as she remembered that dark night when the exorcist
had infiltrated their apartment.

"Sugar? Cream?"

Alleria shook her head.

Zalee helped herself to both before, tea-cup pinched gracefully between her long
fingers and her pinky sticking out, she fixed Alleria with a scrutinising glare.
"Well? You've got something to say, baby?"

Alleria shook her head.

The Alaazian woman sighed, exasperated and put down her tea-cup with a little
clatter. "Children are the epitome of annoying." Zalee began counting to ten under
her breath.

"If I tell you, you'll just think I'm crazy," Alleria blurted out.

"Then why did you come here?"

She didn't know. Alleria shivered and hugged her arms around her stomach. An entire
night without sleep was beginning to take its toll and her head began filling with
fog. How could she explain to Zalee that her dead boyfriend had suddenly returned
but she can't see or hear him properly? "My problem is... occult."

Zalee stared at her for a moment, then threw her head back and started to laugh.

"Aye, it isn't funny," Alleria grumbled.

"No, it's not." Zalee wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I was just so
sure... you were coming here with boy troubles."

Alleria pursed her mouth into a thin line. Well, Zalee wasn't exactly wrong on that
account. "What troubles could I possibly be having with boys?"
"Everyone's seen how you ogle the Dagen."

"I don't -"

"That man is trouble, Baby Bellencreek."

"And

so very old."

"What's a ten year gap between twenty and thirty years of age?"

It was a nine and a half year gap, but who was counting? "Dagen is charming, but I
know he's just toying with me," Alleria said, feeling her face burn.

"The man does loves his toys." Zalee chuckled.

Alleria's face twisted into a look of disgust before she caught herself and forced
her features into something more amiable.

"So, you've come to me with an occult problem?" Zalee rose to her feet, her hips
swaying as she crossed the room without a word, disappearing into her library. She
came back a moment later bearing a small cherrywood chest. "Hide this, show no one
and always remember to lock it. You did not get this from me."

"This is-?"

"It is what it is," Zalee said, avoiding Alleria's eye. There was something strange
about her voice, something which Alleria couldn't understand, it almost seemed like
pity.

After handing her the chest along with a small golden key that would unlock it, the
woman's features hardened and she looked at her perfectly manicured bright red
nails. "Now go away, I've got things to do."

Alleria didn't have to be told twice that this was the extent of Zalee's patience
She thanked the Alaazian woman while hugging the chest to her belly and excused
herself from the flat.

She wasn't sure whether it wasn't just her imagination, but just before she left,
she thought she heard Zalle say, "Don't let them win, baby."

***

The whole way back to her own flat, Alleria's heart had been pounding like a fist
against her ribs. If the

chest contained what she thought it contained, then being caught with it could get
her into the sort of sticky trouble that she wouldn't be able to get out of.

She locked all the doors of her flat when she entered and then, sitting cross-
legged on the floor, unlocked the chest.

Three books, all written in Alaazian. Her command of the language wasn't as good as
her Gahl and Dauric, both of which she spoke fluently, but she knew the grammar and
enough words to understand the main idea of each book.

Which was everything she had longed to know about the demon world written on paper.
After fetching an Alaazian - Vehrenin dictionary from her library, she began
leafing through the books. The first book was more of a philosophical theory book,
discussing the effects of demonology - the Alaazian term for the occult studies -
on the day-to-day lives of people. While an interesting subject, Alleria soon
decided that the writer's Alaazian was too high for her and her dictionary and the
deeper she dived into the text, the less anything made sense.

Putting the book aside, she consulted the next one. It was an almost an
anthropological study of the demon world, describing the difference between
Individuals and Many. There was even mention of the Authora. Though it was all
quite superficial, without any meaningful content.

It was the third and last book that grabbed her attention entirely. Thickest of the
lot, she was surprised to find the book filled with equations similar to those Mr.
Minsuit had drawn in her room during the summer. It was a detailed study of methods
of demonology, discussing

to painstaking detail the more defining features of these equations and explaining
how they worked.

Alleria was hooked, sinking into the book, the world around her fading into blank,
white nothingness. Gentle, subtle and almost artistic, the beautiful numbers and
letters rapidly overtook her every thought and held her captive. For hours, she
became lost within the sublime grasp of a logic that had never occurred to her
before.

When she finally looked up, dazed yet enlightened, she was surprised to find that
the whole world had changed.

Or rather, what changed was how she saw it. She rushed into the study, bringing
forth a case of chalk.

Everything looked the same, and yet it wasn't. The walls, the ceiling, the
overstuffed sofas and the polished floorboards - she could see how they resonated
back to the demon-world and how the demon-world swirled around and within them. Her
eyes scanned the twining patterns all about her, until she detected a tiny glitch,
no more than a bump far beneath the surface.

As meaningless as a speck of dust.

Cassel.

She tore open the box of chalk. Her hands were shaking. She breathed deeply, trying
to steady them as she fell to the floor, hurriedly pulling out a piece of chalk.
She almost knew now. She was on the brink of understanding how to translate what
she saw into those equations.

Her hand moved furiously as she scrawled the equations on the wooden floorboards
before her, struggling to write as fast as her thoughts were flashing through her
mind.

Of course, these equations were all about harmony, smoothing over and over again
the seams that connected both worlds. All she had to do was gently and carefully
take a marginal amount of the energy with every turn, bringing the little
aberration into clearer view.

She felt a thrill rush through her every time the she managed to raise the scale
and yet come out with a balanced result. Her concentration went deeper the closer
she came, her brow furrowed, her breath hitched -
There.

Something cold rushed through her, she shuddered and looked up.

So pale, almost transparent, he looked down at her with gleaming green eyes.

Her joints protested as she stood quickly, how long had she been sitting here? Her
breaths somehow could not keep in time with the rapid beating of her heart. She
tried to say his name, but couldn't utter a word.

He reached out to her, his fingers less than an inch from her cheek when they began
to turn transparent and blurry.

Like sand in the wind, he dissipated into tiny particles that vanished in the empty
air. She watched mesmerised as last to fall apart was his face that was filled with
nothing but despair.

"Cassel," she finally managed. But it was too late, he was gone.

Again.

A/N - Zalee's helping Alleria and somehow looking out for her - but what do you
think about what she said concerning Dagen? And Cassel's really there, but why do
you think Alleria's attempt at bringing him back didn't work?

New chapter will be here on Friday! In the meantime, you know I love your comments
and don't forget to vote! <3

=================

Chapter 25 - Things Go Bump In The Night

Chapter 25 - Things Go Bump In The Night

No matter how many attempts she made, Alleria could not cause Cassel to appear
again. As the midyear exam came and went, she felt she had made reasonable progress
with understanding the occult mathematics and their strange mechanics, but there
was something essential missing.

She became accustomed to his constant presence, the way he was there, but not
there. She was glad that she could always find him within the overlaying patterns,
yet it had puzzled her at first to discover him in many different places at the
same time. It was a while before she discovered that the patterns did not respond
to time in a linear manner. Past and future converged. The lines of time were
fragmented, illogical and random. Knowing this, Alleria guessed that her mistake
was that, in fact, while she recognised Cassel's signature within the balance of
energies of both planes, she could not know when he was at any given moment.

Which meant that her first near success had been a fluke. Although she still could
not understand why it had not worked.

It was no matter, she had time, she would find a way to either create order in the
chaos, or - if she couldn't - she'd simply manage to fall upon another coincidence.

The occult equations, however, finally provided her with the edge she had needed to
overcome the algorithm.
She and Mr. Tinpoint, together, had dissected the algorithm. They had gone back and
studied the older, thinner versions. It was almost dismaying to discover that
within the chaos, the base equation upon which

the algorithm had been constructed was almost completely useless. But they had
found pieces of it that could be isolated and built upon.

Alleria sat with her chin resting on her palm and her elbow propped upon the table
as she watched Gina pace through the dining room, admiring the large sheets of
paper that hung on the walls. The dinning room had been transformed into the
Algorithm War-Room. The walls were all covered in sheets bearing neatly written
equations. There were four green-boards that had been rolled in for proofs and
calculations and the table had been covered in the newest sheets of paper that
would be hung on the wall with the amended versions of the equations that were
currently on display.

"Are you still worried?" Gina asked, selecting a seat by the table across from
Alleria.

"Aye, it's incomplete."

"But look at the progress you've made, haven't you discovered anything useful?"

Alleria shook her head, pulling over the nearest sheet, her fingers tracing the
shapes of the numbers and letters. "It's going to be all or nothing. The whole
world is still staggering from the end of last year, what will happen if another
year ends early?" She looked up at Gina. "What will happen if another year ends
late?"

Gina pursed her lips together, obviously trying to prevent herself from saying some
encouraging remark that would make Alleria's predicament seem lesser than it was.
Everyone was effected by the deflation in the economy of the past year, but it was
people of the working class, like Gina and her family and Alleria's parents, who
suffered most.

They sat there

in silence for a long moment. Gina gave her a sharp look. "At least, if you look at
it that way, if you fail..." Her voice trailed away for a moment. "You won't have
to worry about being a Scholar or an Imperial bureaucrat, there won't be a High
Academy, or even an empire. Everything will simply fall into anarchy."

"That makes me feel so much better." The corners of Alleria's mouth pointed up into
a smile, she was only being half sarcastic. She was sacrificing herself upon the
altar, but it certainly felt good to be doing something meaningful.

There was a reason she was here.

Mr. Tinpoint burst into the room looking as shabby as always. He was mopping a
coffee stain from his shirt with his handkerchief. "Sorry I'm late," he mumbled.

Alleria rolled her eyes at Gina who had sprung to her feet hurriedly and, blushing,
proceeded to smooth out imaginary creases from her already perfectly ironed skirt.

"Good morning Mr. Tinpoint," she squeaked.

"Morning Jenny," Tinpoint said without looking up. He dumped his briefcase into an
empty chair and began pulling out papers.
"It's Gina."

"What's Gina?"

Gina bit her lip, her face somewhere in-between humiliation and impatience. "I'm
Gina, not Jenny or Georgia or Gwen. Gina, just Gina."

Perhaps it was her tone, or the fact that she had not responded in the way servants
typically respond, but for the first time since Alleria had known him, Mr. Tinpoint
took a good look at Gina. "Oh, er, so you are," he said wanly. "My apologises."

Strawberry faced, Gina curtsied but didn't say a word.

In fact, she didn't apologise for herself like she normally would have. She simply
left in a flash of red hair.

Tinpoint watched her receding back, shrugged and resumed extracting his notes from
his briefcase. "Weird, her," he said. "What d'you reckon that was about?"

Alleria blinked and shook her head. "You'll have to figure that one out on your
own, sir."

The subject of Gina soon slipped his mind entirely when he noticed the sheets of
new equations that covered the table. "You've re-made them?"

"Actually, Mr. Tinpoint," Alleria felt heat rise in her face. She hadn't been able
to go to sleep and had worked on these sheets all night. She proceeded to go about
the room, tearing down the old equations before hanging up the new ones. Tinpoint
watch her patiently as she ran back and forth from the wall to the table, crumpling
the old sheets and throwing them into the fireplace.

When she had competed the circuit about the room, hanging the sheets in all the
appropriate places, Tinpoint stood back pinching his chin, his brow furrowed in
concentration as he studied the new equations. "These are familiar but... quite
different."

"They're familiar, Mr. Tinpoint, because I took some components you studied in your
thesis and I added to it some..." She paused. He would not like to know the truth
about where she found the inspiration for those amended equations. The occult was
illegal, even for the sake of science, they could be tried and hung if anyone found
out.

"Mechanics of my own," she finally said.

"We must test this," Tinpoint whispered excitedly,

his eyes dancing over the sheets on the wall. "But my gut tells me we're onto
something."

***

Had she done the right thing?

It - everything - kept coming together. Finally, after months of groping blindly,

the algorithm began to look like an actual algorithm. It yielded to their touch and
began to bear fruit. The occult additions were visible, though, and if anyone
recognised those kinds of equations...
She would go down and take poor Mr. Tinpoint down with her.

These thought circulated through her brain as she slipped into bed that night, sure
she'd never fall asleep. But her eyes closed and her mind shut down the moment her
head hit the pillow.

What felt like minutes later, she rose from a deep sleep to the sound of
floorboards creaking in the darkness. Through the cobwebs in her head, she lay
there wondering if the sound had happened or had been part of a dream. Her body
felt heavy, sinking into the soft welcoming warmth of the bed. After moments of
silence, she began drifting away. It probably wasn't anything. This old tower was
always constantly creaking.

Another sound. A soft shuffling. As if someone had brushed against a piece of

furniture. Sleep retreated, she groggily searched the dark room without moving. Her
eyes scanned the shadowy shapes of the wardrobe and vanity as well as the
overstuffed love-seat underneath the window.

And then she saw it.

At the foot of her bed, in the darkness - the unmistakable shape of a person, a
man.

She concentrated on keeping her breaths even as she considered her actions. The
intruder did not know she was awake, she was sure of it as she studied him from the
corner of her eye. He was moving about strangely, his head bobbing up and down as
he tiptoed across the room.

He was searching for something.

Her hand began inching forward slowly until she managed burrow her fingers beneath
the mattress without alerting the intruder. She groped about, until she touched
something small and round, her fingers closing over the pill of poison Seppira had
given her all those months ago.

It was a last resort, one she didn't intend on using lightly. She would first try
to run. All she had to do was reach the corridor and scream for help, the entire
tower would hear her then.

The intruder bent down, his back turned to her.

Now was her chance.

She threw off the covers and leapt out of her bed. Her knees felt wobbly as she
dashed across the room towards the door.

Through her bedroom to her lounge, she bumped and stumbled over various pieces of
furniture, she couldn't be bothered with figuring out what they were or how to walk
around them. An iron fist closed over her wrist. Without thinking, she turned, her
knee thrusting upwards. It made contact with the intruder's body and she heard him
grunt in pain, his hand instantly releasing her. She flew towards the door, her
hand shooting forward, her fingers closing over the doorknob.

"Halt," commanded the intruder in a hoarse voice.

She froze, unable to disobey the command. The fingers of her left hand tightened
over the pill as fear gripped her heart.

She knew now what this person was.

An exorcist.

=================

Chapter 26 - Take Up Arms

Chapter 26 - Take Up Arms

"Turn on the bloody light." The voice sounded so familiar.

She gripped the doorknob tightly, feeling his will pushing her. Her shoulders shook
slightly when her own will ripped through the command. She released a sigh - she
was not helpless. If it was a confrontation he wanted, he would get it.

And why not have light for that? Slowly, slowly, she moved her hand and turned on
the light, turning around to face him.

"Willum." It was surprising how calm her voice sounded. He ran away and
disappeared, only to come here? She didn't know what it meant, but Mr. Minsuit's
words still rang in her ears.

Willum was an exorcist.

"What are you doing here?"

He was dressed entirely in black and there were pink blotches on his cheeks -
whether from pain or anger, she couldn't tell. When he looked at her, his gaze was
as cold as always. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, glaring at
her.

"Well?" she edged into the room with the reassuring yet frightening roundness of
the pill caught between her fingers. "Don't you have an explanation ready?"

His eyes darted from her face to her hand. "What have you got there?" he asked.

"A precaution."

It took him perhaps two seconds to comprehend, but when he did he gasped and lunged
forward so quickly Alleria didn't have time to react. She squirmed and struggled as
he caught her wrist with one hand and pried her fingers open with the other. The
pill fell to the floor with a small clatter only to be stomped on by Willum's boot.

"Are you crazy?" he

hissed. "This isn't a game."

"And I wasn't playing," she replied, finally managing to pull her arm loose from
his grasp. She took a step back, pulling up her hair to reveal the fine scars that
ran along the side of her throat. "How dare you think this is a game for me."

Willum cringed when he saw the scars, recoiling slightly as if the sight of them
somehow disturbed him. But then he squared his shoulders, his mouth forming a deep
frown before he opened it to say, "I'm here to retrieve something."

It felt like a stone dropped in her stomach but she forced herself to look blankly
at him. "Retrieve something?"

Willum regarded her stoically, seemingly weighing his words. "Cassel was here, or
is here, or will be here," he finally said after a moment's deliberation.

Her jaw slackened, her lips parting. Alleria hadn't expected him to be so direct.
She could not mask her desire to know, to understand what the real situation was.
"You were the one who summoned and bound Cassel," she said quietly, trying to keep
the emotions out of her voice.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, trudging off to the sofa and sitting in it. "I did
and I did it wrong and then Cassel played me for a fool. He's destroyed me."

So he was willing to talk. She would learn as much as she can, then. Conscious of
the fact that she was wearing only an old white cotton shift, she padded over and
gingerly sat on the edge of one of the armchairs. "Why did you do it? And how did
it go wrong?"

"I was curious about Selma's son. I was just a small boy and I kept seeing traces
of him in the

patterns surrounding his mum. No one taught me how to do it properly, Minsuit said
I was too young to learn and my mother -"

"Your mother? Irene? She's an occultist?"

He grunted, his eyes narrowing. "She's the occultist, the most powerful in the
world. You'll never meet her if she can help it. She doesn't like to converse with
the devil-spawn off whom she syphons power. She has Minsuit for that."

Alleria balled her fists, though left them lying in her lap as she fought to remain
composed. "Irene syphons power off me?"

He nodded once in reply. "You make the planes clash, occultists and exorcist alike
have grown so much more powerful since you Encountered Ulundine. But the friction
continues to grow. Some worry, justifiably, that your presence here has set the
world out of balance."

"So you're being kept in the loop." She crossed her arms over her stomach. There
was not much she could do if the 'power', as Willum called it, was readily
available for the taking. Although, she was not quite sure what he spoke about when
he used such a word freely. Was it a certain latitude available within the
overlaying patterns, perhaps enabling greater freedom while manipulating the
equations? But exorcists became more 'powerful' too - not for the first time she
wondered what the mechanics behind exorcist techniques were. "What went wrong when
you summoned Cassel?"

"Everything went wrong." Willum looked up at the ceiling mural, his gaze searching
and floral design. "I hadn't realised it at first and had kept it well hidden, but
while binding Cassel, he tricked me and took something

away from me - a piece of myself which I foolishly bounded along with him."

"He took a piece of you? Like an Encounter?"

"No, it isn't like an Encounter. Individuals have Presence, like a soul. They take
something, but also give in return. You are possessed but you also possess. When
something is stolen and not replaced, there's nothing but emptiness -"
"Your soul is broken," Alleria whispered.

Willum nodded grimly and rubbed his forehead. "Cassel can't be trusted. Everything
he says and does, they're all lies. He's got no will of his own, whatever he does,
it's for the Authora. His connexion with you was only to get at Ulundine somehow."

"That's not true." Alleria hated how her memory of Cassel had been sullied and
contorted. She hated how, the longer she was without him, the more effect these
accusations had. "Whatever you may think, Cassel wasn't -"

"You sound just like me," Willum said and then he laughed - a short burst of
laughter that was filled with bitterness rather than humour. Alleria wondered for a
moment whether this was the first time she had ever heard Willum laughing.

But she felt cold and stiff from his words. She wondered what the nature of
Willum's relationship with Cassel had been. "He doesn't love you, Bellencreek. He
is not capable of emotions as complicated as love. Though I guess there's nothing
to worry about any longer, he's only a phantom now, with no physical body to
occupy. You needn't worry about a ghost. You haven't the ability to reach him."

"He's dead? He's dead but he isn't gone?"

"That's right."

"And

can't he return to the demon world? Wouldn't it be best? Why do you keep him here?"

"I haven't given up yet," Willum snapped, rising to his feet. "What he's taken from
me, I might yet find a way to extract out of him. I might make myself whole again..
I can't be this... this abomination. It's even worse than what you are."

"You'd rip him apart." Alleria was on her feet as well, her knees shaking.

"It doesn't matter. He'd get a worse treatment from the Many. Cassel is nothing, no
more than a figment undeserving even of the name that had belonged to the boy he
had been."

"If he's nothing, with no will and no mind, then how did he escape?" Her eyes
darted towards a place by Willum's head that she could see Cassel within the
pattern. It had not been there a moment ago.

Willum gaped at her for a moment before looking to see what she saw. "You can see
it..." he said in a hushed voice. "You're only a young girl but you can already see
them?"

"What do you mean? You said it yourself, you could see the demon world since you
were a small child."

"You and I aren't the same," he growled, wearing his usual disapproving scowl.
"We're nothing alike. My kind are people born with the power to control devil-
spawn, the power to sway humanity, to move kingdoms and empires. We are here to
keep the balance, the peace, the ongoing status quo. Your kind are nothing but lost
children sacrificed to be vessels, losing your humanity bit by bit with every
passing day. A necessary evil for the sake of the balance between the planes. You
were not born naturally with the ability

to sense the worlds." He smiled an unpleasantly cynical smile. "You're more far-
gone than your age should allow."
Alleria said nothing for a moment, letting his words make their way through her
mind. In moments like these, she had to look past what her emotions told her to see
and find the core of what he actually said. "I don't know much about the occult,"
she said eventually. "But among humans I defy everything they'd like to believe.
Why can't it to be the same for me among demons? You're so certain of your
knowledge, that you know the rules." She took a step forward, looking intently into
Willum's brown eyes. "I won't succumb to other's plans or ideas for me. I plan to
forge my own path in every aspect and plane."

He scanned her from top to bottom not bothering to hide his contempt. "You plan to?
How? You don't even realise you're being used. You're a means to an end. We hold
the reigns, that is how it's always been and it will never change."

"But I know the truth about change."

"Do you, now?"

"Aye, I know the truth. Or rather, the paradox. The only absolute truth is that
there is no absolute truth. Change is the constant and only state of being."

That statement earned her a smirk from Willum who continued to scrutinise her, now
searching her face. "You tried to summon him to the foreground, I can tell."

"I did so."

"And?"

Alleria breathed in deeply, feeling ill from holding back her emotions. "And what?"

"Why do you think it didn't work, miss genius? Why do you think your attempt
failed?"

"I don't know what I was aiming to achieve, so

I can't categorise it as failure yet." She mentally reprimanded herself for such an
evasive answer. Why couldn't she simply admit her own shortcomings? She had become
so accustomed to putting on a tough front, it was becoming habit.

"You can learn the technique and understand the science, but you haven't the power
to back it and make it complete. You are a vessel, a tool, not in control, only
here in this world to be controlled. An anvil, a hammer, a sword."

This explained a lot, Alleria mused as Willum lifted his chin, the scorn not
leaving his face for a moment. But all that meant was that this particular 'power'
wasn't available, but there were other types of powers in the world. If she wasn't
wrong, the arcane was quite different from the occult, and dealt with different
forces. Moreover, if she could locate an arcanist, perhaps she could commission the
making of a device that would give her the necessary power. The two arts had never
been mixed, but that didn't mean they couldn't be.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

Alleria blinked, pulling herself back into the moment. She examined the boy before
her, scrutinising him in the same way he had scrutinised her. There, over his
shoulder, Cassel had appeared again. He was more interwoven in Willum's patterns
than she had seen him anywhere else. She tilted her head to the side.

Something was wrong.

Willum was up to something.

He had been talking to her just to distract her and buy himself time.

Then she saw, a very different kind of pattern was woven round his pinky. It was
circular and springy,

like the hues of the two worlds were forming into a telephone cord.

And the aberration that was Cassel was getting sucked into its a vortex.

Willum was extracting Cassel from this very room.

She wouldn't let him take Cassel away. Cassel wasn't a thing, she would not believe
it even if they told her so a thousand times over. Didn't they see her the same
way? Just because occultists and exorcists had made a science out of demons, didn't
make demons components of science. She was different, but still a person, not a
tool.

And she would not be idle.

She would not allow more pain to be inflicted upon her friend. His screams that
night rose up through her mind. The demon world tried to summon her always, but she
was not powerless.

She knew the song by heart.

Low and soft, her voice rumbled in her throat as she began to hum the tune.
Willum's eyes widened, he stiffened, freezing to his spot. Slowly at first, and
then with growing fervour, it came to her - there all along. She could make it
happen, she did not simply have to have it happen to her.

The hues and patterns around them began to change, pale and dark, swirling and
contracting. She recognised within them what was her, what was him, what was here
and what was most certainly there. Willum gaped and flinched slightly, shying away
as the silken fragments of the intricate worlds teased and brushed against the web
of his own being.

She allowed the tune to lean against him, gently pushing him. Power, even one that
cannot be readily used, had body and presence. It had its own weight,

and this very weight was hers. "Leave now," she commanded in a whisper. She no
longer had to sing, the music was blaring and loud, it resonated through her making
her bones shiver in her flesh.

Sending dark feathers flying in the air, she moved a few steps forward until she
stood a mere inch from Willum, he gasped when she looked up into his eyes. She knew
that this was because hers were yellow and round, like the eyes of an owl.

"Cassel is mine."

"You haven't a clue -"

"Neither do you."

"Fine," he snarled, backing away and walking in a large circle round her towards
the door. "Have it your way. You're inviting your own demise."
"If it's standing outside my door anyway, I might as well offer it tea. " She
grinned with her beak, watching how, for the first time, Cassel's presence seemed
to have clear direction. He was present, now. She watched how he chased Willum
towards the door and perhaps it was her imagination, but there was a type of
gleefulness in the way he went about it.

When Willum had gone, she felt herself relaxing, Ulundine melting back into her. It
had been exerting, whatever it was she had done. She made to fall into the sofa in
her lounge, but knowing how tired she was, she assumed she'd simply fall asleep
then and there if she did. She drifted into her room and bent over to pick up the
duvet that had been thrown to the floor when she sprang out of bed.

As she straightened, she heard the unmistakable creak of floorboards in the other
room.

She sighed, bursting back into the lounge, switching the light back on.

And froze.

Blood drained from her face.

"'Leria..." His blonde hair was disheveled and longer, his eyes a darker shade of
green. He looked weak and lost. He looked confused.

He looked alive.

She couldn't move, but he did. He raced across the room, stretching out his arms,
pulling her against his chest.

She couldn't find her voice. She pulled away from his embrace, taking a step back,
her brow knit together, she searched his face.

How?

How, how, how?

"This doesn't make any sense," she hissed.

She had to sit down.

She sat down, right there on the floor.

She had to think.

She tried to think.

He knelt down next to her, stroking her hair. His fingers were warm. "As bad with
words as always."

"Humph."

"I missed you too, 'Leria," Cassel said softly.

=================

Chapter 27 - From Bad To Worse

Chapter 27 - From Bad To Worse

It was a late morning hour filled with sunshine as a particularly quarrelsome bird
landed on the outside ledge of the bedroom window and began telling the world
exactly what it thought about it.

Alleria opened her eyes, her limbs felt so heavy and rubbery that she was loath to
move at first. For several long moments, she stared at the clock on the bedside
table without comprehending the time.

The hour hand was pointing to the space between 11 and 12, almost as if it were
well past 11:00 o'clock.

She sat bolt upright.

The time was, in fact, 11:23.

Cassel's arm slipped off her body. She turned her head. The rest of Cassel was
occupying half of her bed. He moaned and snuggled against her. She felt heat rise
up to her cheeks and made a quick review of her nightdress to see that it was in
order. He wasn't wearing a shirt and she didn't want to check to see what was
happening below the covers.

She extended her finger and lightly tapped his shoulder until he gazed up at her
with sleepy green eyes. He smiled when their eyes met, looking relieved.

"I thought I told you to sleep on the sofa?" She tried to keep her voice from
squeaking, but of course she failed. Had she spent the rest of the night sharing a
bed with a boy? Even if it was Cassel, this was...

She felt unbearably warm. Was it spring already? It was only the beginning of
March. Her big chilly bedroom suddenly felt rather warm.

"I felt too lonely..." he said with a yawn, stretching out his arms and hugging her
round the waist.

She peeled

him off of her and got out of bed, dancing dizzily on the spot before she regained
her balance. "Even if you say that..." Her voice trailed away as he slumped over in
the bed and then curled round her pillow.

Did he have to behave like a cat? The way his eyelashes rested against his cheek,
the calm arch of his eyebrow, the small pink pout of his lips - it was rather
soothing to look at him...

Her chest contracted with the old emotion she had managed to forgot. There was the
tiniest swell of joy at the pit of her stomach alongside a rational bout of dread.

She clapped her palms over her cheeks, fighting to get ahold of herself. "Cassel, I
can't be like this with you."

His eyes fluttered open, he turned his head and gave her a sideways look. "Why
not?"

"Because I can't understand. You were dead. You were gone. It was nearly impossible
just to locate where you were in the present..."
"Do you have to understand?"

She pursed her lips together in reply. That question was pointless.

He sat up with deliberate slowness, the duvet fell off him revealing the waistline
of his trousers. She knew she was blushing seeing him shirtless. His chest was wide
and his waist was narrow, she could see the gentle outlines of his abs under the
soft pale skin of his stomach.

She tried to pretend it didn't affect her. And it shouldn't. It wasn't like she had
never seen a shirtless man before. Back in the village, when the reaping and
planting seasons came by, the men would work shirtless in the fields with the sun
beating down on their backs.

That and this were different,

even she knew that.

He got out of the bed, coming towards her, his eyes half-shut as he looked down
into her face. "You've changed," he said and there was disapproval tinged with
sadness in his voice.

"I have."

He reached out and rested his palm on her cheek. She stilled herself and didn't
pull away. He held her gaze for a long moment.

"You're prettier than I remember," he finally said. "You used to seem very small
and far away. It's like the mist was removed and I can see you better."

His fingers slid from the side of her cheek to her throat. He pushed her hair
aside, tracing the longest of her scars with his thumb. "They hurt you," he said
with quiet fury.

She couldn't speak. There was a battle raging within her. Her resolve to move away
warred with her desire to come closer.

He leaned in, tilting his head and kissed her scars. His lips were soft, like
flower-petals. The sensation was at once both strange and familiar, sending a
tingle down her skin. "You've changed," he whispered into her ear. "But have your
feelings changed as well?"

His other arm slipped around her waist and up her back, pulling her against his
bare chest so that she could hear the rapid pattering of his heart and smell his
skin.

She knew what she had to do. She knew that this wasn't the right order of things.
She had to deliberate, find a way to clearly see the situation without being
clouded by emotions.

But... one minute.

She was allowed one minute like this. She relaxed against him. He barely moved,
just slowly slid his fingers up and down her back while breathing a few shaky

breaths. When she finally looked up, his eyes were shining and red, his face was
streaked with tears.

"It was hard for you," she said in a soft whisper.

"It felt... wrong. I was gone, just a piece of something, not a whole thing. I
wanted nothing more than to drift away, to fade, to let go..." Cassel's Adam's
apple danced up and down in his throat as he swallowed. "But he held me here," he
said with contempt. "He held me here binding me again and again and again. And
then, I remembered..."

His face was soft when he regarded her, she felt her heart clench tightly. Why did
all the rational thoughts in her mind take wing and fly away when he was here? All
she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and lose herself in the embrace.

"I remembered you," he said.

She held his gaze. "Cassel, I need to think."

He sighed, wiping away his tears with his arm and nodded. "Do your thing. Think."

Alleria pulled away, taking three steps back for safety measures. "In the meantime,
I'd like you to hide and not show yourself to anyone."

He laughed. "I don't even have to try being unseen."

"I have tea with Dagen later today. I don't know what he is, but I think he's the
sort of thing that can see you."

"That elephant is here?"

Alleria tightened her jaw. "Don't call him that."

"Why not?"

She let out a breath feeling, for some reason, cross with him. Though since she
couldn't think of anything to say, she let it slip.

Still... elephant? Where did Cassel come up with these things?

***

Mr. Tinpoint gave a single, firm

nod.

"I got 19.Tarris," he said.

"Mine is 2.Tarris," she replied looking at the slip of paper in her hand.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

She raised her chin up stubbornly. "Of course."

"The last to finish..." Tinpoint began.

"Will be the one to slip the dead pigeon into Kempett's briefcase," Alleria
confirmed.

Tinpoint squared his jaw, accepting the challenge. "On your mark," he said,
reaching out for the ledger in front of him. Alleria pulled up her copy of the
yearly analyses for 1.Tarris to 10.Tarris. She opened her box of chalk.
"Get ready." They both opened their books, flipping the pages to the appropriate
year.

Tinpoint drew in a breath through his nose.

"Go!"

She scanned the page before racing up to the green-board with her chalk and began.

For the next hour, there was no sound but the rustle of paper and the tapping of
chalk on the board. Alleria's left wrist soon hurt from writing, but her
concentration was like a dark tunnel, she saw nothing but the light ahead of her.

Good, it was working. Occasionally, she scanned the room to reference the
algorithm. But it was only out of habit, she remembered it by heart.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her chalk had become nothing but a stub.

She was near the bottom of the second green-board, but she was close, very close.

She sneaked a glance at Tinpoint, he too was on his second green-board, his tongue
sticking out from the corner of his mouth.

Almost there -

A pair of arms snaked around her waist, she froze mid-calculation.

"Don't mind me," Cassel whispered,

"I'm just here to bother you."

"Cassel!"

"You're so easy to bother." He kissed the top of her head. "I got lonely."

She felt the bitterness of indignation rising in her throat. "Cassel. Please.
Stop."

Tinpoint paused and looked at Alleria quizzically, his eyes slipping right over
Cassel without seeing him. "Did you say anything, Bellencreek?"

Alleria shook her head, taking up her chalk as Cassel sat on the dining table. The
past few days with Cassel had been much like this, her nerves stretching and her
thoughts scattering at his every touch. She couldn't stay focused - even Dagen, to
her dismay, had been suspicious that something was going on.

But she couldn't seem to come to a decision aside from one thing she knew for
certain - she had to keep Cassel secret from everyone.

Now, where was she? She erased the last part of her calculation with the back of
her hand and started over, struggling to fall into the same blissful concentration
she had been embraced by only moments before.

But she made a mistake. She clicked her tongue, her hands growing white with chalk
dust as she erased and tried again, this time getting it right. Ah, she was so
close, just a bit more. She went down to the next line -
"Done!" cried Tinpoint, throwing down his chalk that bounced off the ledge of the
green-board and shattered on the floor. He leaned backwards to survey his work.

Alleria bristled but continued to write in irritated silence until she finally came
upon the result.

"Oh... Well..." Tinpoint said sadly as he leafed through his copy of the yearly

analyse. "Maybe... maybe I miscalculated?"

Alleria put down her chalk and looked at Tinpoint, pretending that she couldn't see
Cassel making faces at her assistant. "Mr. Tinpoint," Alleria said, "you've won our
race, this is where you get to gloat."

"Yes but..."

Alleria met Cassel's gaze, he smiled at her, languishing backwards over the
tabletop. "But what?"

"I may have made a mistake..."

She sighed and walked over to look at Tinpoint's calculations. His hand-writing was
as horrible as ever, but she had gotten used to it over time. She methodically
checked every equation. "I can't see any mistake," she said.

Tinpoint groaned and fell into one of the chairs, his shoulders slumping forward,
he allowed his head to fall into his hands. "Then we're fucked."

"Mr. Tinpoint," Alleria snapped. "Mind your language."

"Sorry, miss," Tinpoint said making Cassel snigger. "We're off by two weeks. It's
slightly better than two months but this won't convince the Board of Scholars..."

In the past, perhaps such a development in the algorithm would have ensured
Alleria's spot within the Paramount and earned Tinpoint his degree. But now that
the world had gotten a taste of what chaos meant, almost just wouldn't cut it.

"How'd yours go?" Tinpoint asked.

"Mine is..." Alleria looked at her own result and straightened her back. "Mine is
rather..." She looked to her yearly analyses book and back to her calculations. In
year 2.Tarris, the year had been longer by six days than what the old algorithm had
predicted. It was one of the most influential aspects to

the rocky beginning of Emperor Tarris's reign.

"Accurate," mumbled Tinpoint. "To the hour."

"No, the minute. It's accurate to the minute the eclipse started." Alleria couldn't
keep the awe from the voice. She completely forgot Cassel was present in the room,
so when he rose and tapped the green-board with his finger, she was startled all
over again to see him.

"This here," he said, "looks nice."

Alleria opened her mouth to say something but stopped.

Her eyes became round and she reached out, clutching the back of a chair for
support, feeling that her legs would not hold her.
She didn't know how he had known. As far as she could tell, Cassel had no
connection with mathematics of any kind. But these were no ordinary equations.

"I made a mistake," she breathed out.

Tinpoint looked at her questioningly. "I beg your pardon, Bellencreek? I thought I
just heard you say you made a mistake."

"I did say that." She pointed towards the board.

It took Tinpoint a minute to find it, but when he did he staggered backwards
looking as if he had just been punched. "This is... what the hell is this?" He was
seething, his cheeks pink and his eyes wide.

Alleria stood very still, Tinpoint had finally lost it. She couldn't really blame
him, he had been on the verge of being insane even before she met him, now she had
managed to push him over the edge.

"I do it exactly accordingly, and I get a wrong answer. You make a mistake and you
get a frightfully accurate result?" He drew several deep breaths and straightened
to his full height, looking down the bridge

of his nose at Alleria. "Well, I guess it's to be expected."

"Come again?"

"Tell me, Miss Bellencreek, do you take me for a fool?"

Alleria didn't like where this was going. "You know I don't, Mr. Tinpoint."

"Well, then why didn't you tell me? Why don't you tell me now? Why aren't you
honest with me?" He began pacing, ruffling up his curly hair in frustration. "I
wonder, where'd you get these additions to the equations? Did you actually make
them up?"

Alleria opened her mouth to answer but Tinpoint held up his hand.

"I'm not finished," he said without pausing his rapid pacing for a moment. "I
wondered, since they're so... unusual. I know you're a genius, but still. These
felt, peculiar. I have my sources, you know, I looked it all up but... I honestly
suspected as much."

He stopped walking but Alleria couldn't find her voice to speak. "Then that morning
you were late and I... I found chalk marking on the floor in your study,
Bellencreek. I know what those are. I also know what they say about you, I've seen
your scars -"

"Then leave!" she cried, surprised at how savage she sounded, how little control
was left in her trembling voice. "Pack your things, go away, save your hide -"

"I planned to. Maybe you've managed to trick your way out of dying, but my neck is
precious to me and I had no intention of endangering its attachment to my head at
any point in my life." He heaved a heavy breath and pulled up a chair, falling into
it. His eyes were locked on the floorboards. "But even though you misled me, and
you withheld vital information, I didn't leave, did

I?"
"No, you didn't."

"Why?" he asked.

Alleria raised her eyebrows. "You're asking me?"

Tinpoint's glare cut across the room to her and he shook his head. "No. I was
asking myself or the universe, or whoever's in charge. I didn't leave. I couldn't
quit. It's like... this algorithm is... part of me. Part of who I am. I can't cut
it away because I'm nothing without it. And that's it for me. I'm staying, but I
have one request."

"What's your request?"

"I'd like you to be honest with me. At least, if I'm going to die, I'll do it with
my eyes open."

Alleria sighed, daring to move for the first time since Tinpoint's outburst. "I can
try."

"Do you think the occult is the only way?" he asked. "We can't succeed in doing
this without involving the forbidden schools of knowledge?"

Alleria nodded once.

"And these additions..."

"They're equations used by occultists," Alleria said.

"Are there more of them?"

She shook her head and then looked pointedly at Cassel who had been calmly and
contently leaning against the wall opposite to Tinpoint. Then she suddenly froze.

"Actually..." She shut her mouth. She was afraid to complete this thought, afraid
of the implications and of where it would lead her. "Actually, there's something we
haven't tried yet."

Tinpoint's smile was the same one he had given her on their first meeting, it was
as if he was mocking himself. "I'm listening."

Alleria drew a deep breath and released it. There was only one direction this could
go; from bad, to worse.

"We need to find and interview an exorcist."

A/N - Will Alleria be able to enlist Willum's help after their now so successful
encounter? Or will she have to seek out the help of Johannes instead? Is she doing
the right thing keeping Cassel a secret from everyone? What do you think of
Tinpoint? And Alleria's upcoming dead-pigeon prank on Kempett?

Sorry for the late update. Life was interfered with my writing. See you next week
and have a great weekend! In the meantime, you know I love your comments! <3

=================
Chapter 28 - A Deal's A Deal

Chapter 28 - A Deal's A Deal

Alleria hung down the receiver of the telephone and gazed across her desk at
Cassel. She had not yet made a decision about him, and just like in the past, he
was patient. Still, even though on occasion his behaviour seemed to clash with the
life she led now, it was nice having someone around who wasn't out to get her.

"Well?" He looked at her expectantly, although there was a glint in his eye that
told her he knew the answer.

"Minsuit said... " She paused, going over the conversation in her mind. "He said
that this time not even Irene knows where Willum is and... he sounded worried."

"Worried? About Willum?" Cassel smirked. "Minsuit's a liar."

"He's not worried about Willum," Alleria agreed, twining her fingers together.
"He's worried about what this disappearance could mean. They don't want there to be
another trained exorcist in the world. He even made me promise that if I hear
anything I'll tell him at once. He snapped at me over the phone. I never heard
Minsuit talk that way. He's losing his head."

"He's desperate."

"So," Alleria went on, "what are our options?"

Cassel placed his palms over the tabletop and leaned forward, his green eyes boring
into her's. "There's only one other exorcist in this country, 'Leria."

She fell back into her chair, causing the leather to creak. She imagined her mind
filling with steel and her emotions shutting away behind unbreakable walls.

Still, her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch, she clutched at her chest with her
hand.

"I'll find another way,"

she said in a choked whisper.

***

Alleria scrunched her nose when she looked at her old worn leather purse as it was
slung over her shoulder. Was it only her imagination or did it have a slight odour?
Even so, she reasoned with herself that the banquet hall in Arbaro palace was so
crowded at this time in the evening no one would be able to pinpoint the bad smell
and connect it with her purse.

Tinpoint, dutifully following behind her as her assistant, masked his snigger with
a polite cough. He had insisted that a bet was a bet and the dead pigeon had
Kempett's name on it.

The trouble was, now that they were in the hall, approaching their seats, she felt
certain that she would not be able to slip the corpse into the second Paramount's
briefcase without him or his assistants noticing.

She mulled over it in her mind. Her safest bet would be to get it inside at the
high table. The seating arrangements wouldn't be to Alleria's benefit, since
usually Kempett sat next to Dagen and Alleria always occupied the seat before last
at the table as far away from her target as possible. The banquet hall was her only
chance of coming anywhere near Kempett's briefcase, but little good that did her.

If it had been Tinpoint who had lost the bet, he would have had an easier time
slipping the pigeon into Kempett's briefcase while they smoked their pipes and
drank their whiskey in the gentlemen's lounge.

Tinpoint excused himself from her side, breaking away to find a place in the table
reserved for teaching aides or assistants. She saw the dark looks pass over the
other assistants' faces when they saw Tinpoint,

he shared in her popularity - or lack thereof.

Frowning, she mounted the raised dais and turned to regard the high table. It was
still a little early, there were only a few seats occupied. Hesitating, she
contemplated if it would be better to just give up on this whole charade.

But...

She had never pulled a prank before. She had never, in her short life, done
something so childish, stupid and cruel to another human being. The prospect was
too tempting to let go. If she would not try something like this - something so
distinctly bad - she was worried she'd end up regretting it for the rest of her
life.

She was young, after all, it would be nice to try something that was so banally
idiotic it was exciting. Gripping the strap of her purse, she raised her chin a
fraction and boldly marched over to the high table, choosing the empty seat next to
Dagen, the one Kempett usually occupied.

"My Lord." She edged into the seat, looking, for all intents and purposes, as if
she had a perfectly good reason to be sitting there today. It was not unheard of
that the seating order would change, there was no written rule or regulation to
prevent it. "It's good of you to be here." She slipped off her purse and slung it
over the high back of the chair. "I seem to have an out-dated edition of
Arbittgrove's Numeric Linguistics, I was wondering if your library perhaps contains
the 14.Tarris edition?"

Dagen didn't seem displeased to see her, but he gave her an odd look before turning
slightly in his chair to speak with her. Was he playing along? Did he know that she
was making conversation

only for appearances? If so, his gesture proved to be to her advantage as anyone
arriving at this moment would have the impression that they were deep in
conversation.

"Are you referring to the one with Harberen's annotations?" he asked.

"Aye, sir. I know some are opposed to them, but I feel that they may help shed
light on Arbittgrove's work."

"Personally, I believe that they spoil any and all understanding of Arbittgrove.
Harberen harboured very particular opinions about -" Dagen stopped mid-sentence,
looking up and past Alleria's shoulder. "Mr. Kempett, how do you do?"

"Lord Dagen," Kempett said in a level voice.

Alleria slowly turned her head, arranging her face into a gracious smile. "Mr.
Kempett."
"Miss Bellencreek." He spoke through tight lips, his eyes as stony as the rest of
his face. He was probably asking himself what form of challenge this was.

Good.

"I apologise for stealing your seat," she said sweetly. "You must want it back."
She looked over at Dagen again. "I'll come by your study later to collect the book,
my lord, if that's alright with you." She made to unsling her purse from where she
hung it over the back of her chair.

"Miss Bellencreek." Dagen briefly touched her elbow to stop her from rising. The
tiny gesture was noticed - by Kempett, by her, by the whole banquet hall. "Please
remain. I'm eager to hear what you've managed to decipher from Arbittgrove."

Alleria pretended to hesitate, then she smiled and looked over at Kempett. "How
careless of me," she said, letting her countryside drawl creep into her voice. "It
hadn't

occurred to me, moving now would be an embarrassment to Mr. Kempett. I apologise,

sir."

Kempett's eyes danced in his face as he searched from some way out of this
situation before putting on a grimace-like smile and bowing his head. "There is no
need for apologies, miss. It is truly nothing."

He removed his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair on Alleria's left,
before putting down his briefcase on the floor on the left side of the chair - the
side farther from her.

She bit her lip. So much for things going smoothly tonight.

Throughout dinner, she made conversation with Dagen while Kempett shot her dark
glances and occasionally ventured to make small-talk for the sake of appearances.

Talking to Dagen wasn't difficult. She had gotten used to the intense way he held
her gaze or how his questions kept her on her toes. Although he was older than her,
there was no denying the fact that he was an attractive man with a soothing voice.

Sometimes, his company made her feel good.

Though she could not find even one chance to slip the pigeon into the briefcase.

It was during dessert that it occurred to her what she could do. She felt silly
that she hadn't seen it before.

Kempett's jacket. It was the sort of long, heavy garment that gentlemen wore over
the light blue Scholar robes. It had large, deep pockets meant to hold cigarette
cases, pipes and gloves. What more, his right pocket was wide open and touching her
purse. Dagen was talking to Scholar Marfred Jumindrick sitting on his right,
Kempett was pretending to talk to Zalee Salah so that he wouldn't

have to awkwardly make conversation with Alleria.

It was now or never.

Even though she didn't know how much time she had, she decided to move slowly. A
sudden movement would be noticed by the men on either side. Keeping her gaze fixed
on her fruit-salad, and her right hand picking at it with her fork, she felt about
and unclasped her purse, pulling out the bundle of newspapers which contained the
dead pigeon. She then decided to risk a quick motion, transferring the bundle to
Kempett's pocket. Still unnoticed, she searched for the edge of the newspaper
wrapping and then tugged, rolling the pigeon's carcass into the depth of the pocket
before stuffing the smelly old newspaper pages into her own purse and clasping it
shut.

She did it. He hadn't seen or suspect a thing.

Feeling giddy, she placed her left hand in her lap as she continued to poke about
her fruit salad.

And froze.

She fought hard to swallow the lump that was rising in her throat before turning
her gaze to meet Dagen's.

He looked at her knowingly. She had no doubt, he had seen it all.

He grinned.

She returned the smile with her mouth only.

He touched her right arm in a gesture, she knew, was meant to be flirty yet
dominating. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "After dinner, come to my study.
I'll give you the book."

"Tonight is actually..."

His smile widened to show his bright white teeth. "I wonder what Mr. Kempett is
going to find in his pocket."

She swallowed and forced her smile back onto her face. "I'll see you in your study,
then." She took her purse and bowed her head. "If you'll excuse me, my lord."

"I'll see you later," he said and winked.

Well, at least he hadn't given her away. What was done, was done. Before leaving
the banquet hall and entering the ladies' powder room, she caught sight of Tinpoint
and smiled at him.

She hoped Kempett would be so kind as to push his hand into his pockets in a public
place.

=================

Chapter 29 -True Intentions

Chapter 29 - True Intentions

When Alleria finished washing her hands, she waited a moment by the vanity in the
ladies' powder room. There was terrible acoustics where she stood, she could hear
every single sound from the banquet hall and the nearby corridor as if she were
standing there herself. Most people hadn't yet finished dinner and the wide
corridor leading away from the banquet hall was still deserted.
Therefore, she distinctly heard Kempett's voice amidst the sound of walking feet.

"...Trying to threaten me during dinner." She heard him make a vulgar-sounding

snort. "Did she think she was intimidating anyone?"

"She looks rather dense to me," said the voice of Emad Hurfegger, the first of
Kempett's assistants. She recalled that he was a tall, balding man with watery eyes
and a thick black beard who had an unconscious tick of licking his lips when he
looked at any member of the opposite gender. "Wonder who she slept with to get her
position. I doubt she's actually as young as she says she is."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it were Barnel," Kempett said. "The two are made of the
same base-metal ore, after all. Common filth. This place has turned into a charity
and now it has gone to the dogs."

"You know, I expected more out of Lord Dagen. Thought he had more sense," said
Hurfegger. "I thought he was one of us."

"Oh, that man's greatest weakness is anything that wears a skirt," sneered Kempett.
"He has no actual taste. But he'll come to his senses soon enough."

"I'm sorry to inform you that you're wrong on all accounts,"

said a third voice. Alleria covered her mouth with her hand to prevent herself from
gasping - she didn't know if sound travelled both ways.

There was the slight squeak of one expensive leather shoe over marble flooring as
both men came to an abrupt halt. "L-lord Dagen," stuttered Hurfegger.

"Wrong in what way, your lordship?" asked Kempett, he didn't sound the least bit
perturbed to have been caught speaking this way about Dagen. Alleria wasn't
surprised, men like Kempett who fit the bill of imperial scholar perfectly could be
lax on their social skills without facing dire consequences.

"My greatest weakness is horror novels, I have exquisite taste and when it comes to
Miss Bellencreek, I fully intend to lose my senses even further when the time is
right."

Alleria's took a step back as her heart gave a jolt. What in the world did Dagen
mean by that and why was he provoking Kempett?

"Your lordship." Kempett's voice was hard when he spoke. "Are you not apprised on
the rumours surrounding the girl or do you choose to ignore them?"

"The rumours?" Dagen's asked musically. "You can't possibly mean -"

"They're no rumours," Kempett cut in. "She is a dangerous creature and she is well
aware of her position in trying to seduce you. You'd do best to heed me, my lord, I
have seen with my own eyes the evil that she is capable of -"

"Who is trying to seduce who?" Alleria asked, stepping out from the powder room,
the door closing behind her with a snap.

Among the three men, only Dagen's face betrayed no surprise at her sudden
appearance. Nevertheless,

she didn't spare him from her hard glare. No, it was best she wouldn't bend a
fraction. She let her rage show on the surface, steely and unyielding.
"Before you conclude you conversation about seduction, gentlemen." She emphasised
the last word, making sure the irony was clear. "I would like to remind you that I
am underage and still of innocent mind and body. And you, Mr. Kempett," - she
turned, directing all her anger at the man in question who recoiled under her glare
- "you should consider carefully before disgracing yourself by revealing what you
think you saw while under the influence of alcohol. No one can respect a drunk
scholar."

Technically, drinking to the point of intoxication was frowned upon by the Board of
Scholars who could call Kempett to a disciplinary meeting if they knew.

"Why you little -" Hurfegger burst out.

"Orena Serbiar," she said, cutting him off.

Hurfegger froze, all colour draining from his face. He opened his mouth to speak,
but it took several attempts before he managed to say, "What?"

"That was her name, wasn't it? I have a copy of her research on the seventy-first
law of alchemy, would you like to read it? It's fascinating."

Hurfegger, still gaping, took a step back only to shrink away from the glare
Kempett was sending his way. He shook his head from side to side. "How?"

"Let's just call it 'womanly intuition'."

Like a man that had seen a ghost, he turned on his heel and fled down the corridor.

He had no way of knowing that Alleria had no intention of reporting him. In the
empire, some cases of elaborate plagiarism

were treated as severely as murder. Hurfegger wasn't the only one, nor the first to
have won his place among scholars by presenting a research that had not been his in
the first place.

Orena Serbiar had only been a woman, after all, and no one really considered them
to have the ability to conduct sound research in a science as complicated as
alchemy. Alleria had been surprised to find that Serbiar's findings and methods had
been perfectly identical with the research that had won Hurfegger his three
degrees, especially since Serbiar had died six years before Hurfegger had ever been
born.

She had let the cat out of the bag, and now Mr. Hurfegger would spend the rest of
his life looking over his shoulder.

Times were changing, and the dinosaurs of the old world would be cut down if they
couldn't adapt.

At least, Alleria liked to believe.

"Did you just threaten him?" Kempett demanded once he had overcome the shock of his
assistant suddenly leaving.

"Again with the talk about threats." Alleria heaved a theatrical sigh. "You'll just
have to find a new assistant, Mr. Kempett. I'm sure there's no shortage of men who
have clawed their way into power and are willing to nod at everything you say."

Kempett clicked his tongue, his lips peeling back in an ugly sneer. "Have you quite
finished?"

"No," Alleria said. She didn't know what came her. The darkness was not rising
through her, it was as if her own heart had become raw with anger and frustration.

She felt bold. "You know Kai Johannes, you know where to find him?" She didn't give
Kempett a chance to think,

or deny his connection to the exorcist. "I wish to speak with him," she said. "Tell
him to come and meet me if he dares."

At her side, Dagen gasped, turning to face her. She ignored him, she couldn't deal
with him and herself at the same time. As impulsive and reckless as her actions
were, there was no other choice.

"What are you playing at?" Kempett hissed. "What are you plotting?"

"Inform Johannes of my intention to meet and you may find out."

Their conversation was concluded at the sound of hundreds of walking feet and
talking voices coming from the banquet hall as the rest of the scholars began
shuffling towards their respective dormitories or - if they were privileged enough
- the gentlemen's lounge.

Kempett clicked his tongue again and simply turned away, walking briskly down the
corridor turning left towards the gentlemen's lounge. A moment before he fell out
of sight, Alleria noticed how he pushed his hand into the deep pocket of his
jacket.

A single, shrill scream caused everyone to hush down. "Owl's ass!" Kempett shouted.
The pigeon had been discovered, and with it came jibes and hysterical laughter that
only fully grown men knew how to pull off.

Alleria let out a deep breath and mingled with the crowd headed towards the
dormitories for only a moment before breaking away towards the main exit of Arbaro
palace.

"Miss Bellencreek," said Dagen behind her.

"My lord," she replied without turning.

"What are you doing? What are you thinking?"

"I'm walking to Ortkerry tower, m'lord and I'm thinking about going to bed."

"And about

Johannes?" He didn't sound impatient. From behind her, she couldn't know what he
thought of her intention to meet the exorcist.

"What are you thinking, Lord Dagen?" she asked instead.

"I think you're taking unnecessary risks and being foolish."

They both stepped out through the large double door of Arbaro palace, and descended
down the impressively wide staircase that led to the ceremony plaza. Most people
headed to Ortkerry tower would cross the empty cobbled expanse of the plaza and
continue through the garden paths that eventually led round the hill to the tower.
Alleria, however, always took the short-cut. Crossing the lawns that spanned out on
the east, through a small wood and cutting straight towards the tower.

There was a slight drizzle and no moon to see by, though the darkness did not pose
a problem to a creature of the night - and that was what she was.

Dagen followed.

"How do you know which risks are necessary and which aren't?" she asked after a
moment. "And what was that you said before about me?"

"I was stating my intentions," he said. "I thought I said it rather clear."

The heels of her shoes sunk into the grass. She couldn't think of anything to say.
Had it been a few weeks before, when Cassel was nothing but a memory, she would
have probably responded with a bashful smiles and butterflies in her stomach.

But to have a grown man admit that he saw her as a attractive romantic prospect in
the future - probably when she was of age to have romantic prospects - suddenly
felt confusing.

"I don't want to hear about

your intentions," she snapped.

"You weren't supposed to hear about them," he said. For the first time since she
knew him, Lord Salem Dagen sounded clumsy and unsure. "But I won't take it back."

"You'd be wasting your breath anyway," she said in what she hoped was a smoothly
emotionless voice. "There's no such thing as taking back words."

They entered the small wood. Strangely, she liked this place best, it reminded her
of home to be surrounded by pine and cedar. "Alleria, you're skirting the issue."

She stopped short. Alleria? How strange. That was her name. Only Gina and Cassel
used her name these days, or her parents when she got to speak with them over the
telephone.

She never thought she'd become unaccustomed to hearing the sound of her first name.
How intimidate and familiar it sounded on his lips, she couldn't stifle the rush
that ran through her. She turned to look at him in the dark.

She wasn't sure about it, but just then, he seemed to glow strangely. Or maybe it
was the way the demon world moved around him. Didn't he always look this way, but
now, isolated by darkness, she could see how extraordinarily different he was.
"Lord Salem Dagen," she said in almost a whisper, "what are you?"

"I'm a man who's trying to have a conversation with you."

Shame on her for thinking she could get a straight answer out of him. She smirked
and turned away, knowing full well how childish she was being. They didn't talk
anymore until they reached the tower.

But the whole way she felt his presence at her back and couldn't help but think,
over and over again, about what he had said.

***

"Where are you going?" Dagen asked after they reached the first landing of the
tower. She paused with her foot on the step watching him unlock his flat's door.

"My flat, where else?" she answered.

He opened the door and stood aside, motioning for her to come. "My study. You need
to take your book."

Oh that. He was still playing that game? He had a lot of nerve pretending that he
didn't blackmail her to come to his suit tonight. If she just paused to think, that
combined with his previous statement was highly suspicious behaviour. A gentleman
had no business inviting a young lady to his room.

"Thank you, but I think I'll collect it later," she said, bowing her head and
turning back to the stairs. "Good night, my lord."

"Alleria."

She had just managed to climb two more stairs, and his hand grasped her wrist. How
could he move so fast?

What in the world was he?

"Please just come talk to me in my study," he said to her back. "I have something
important to discuss with you."

"You could've just said that. Why be so manipulative? I would've come," she
replied, sighing and turned to face him while rolling her eyes.

She froze.

She hadn't expected him to be standing this close on the stair directly below her.
He was still grasping her wrist and she couldn't pull away at once.

What more, his expression was focused and strange, searching her face as if
hypnotised by something he saw there.

Oh dear.

His lips parted for speech, but then his mouth softened, as did his grip on her
wrist that suddenly became almost a caress. She could still feel her heartbeat
hammering against his fingers where he held her - or was that his?

Oh no.

He was going to kiss her.

A/N - *Points at readers and cackles.*

=================

Chapter 30 - Breaking Down Walls

Chapter 30 - Breaking Down Walls

Dagen leaned in, his other hand slipping up her cheek and into her hair, sending a
little tremor down her back.
Stop. She tried to tell herself to resist as he came so close she could feel his
own heat and breath against the skin of her face. She marvelled how peculiar it was
to suddenly have a stranger inside her personal space.

But then his hand fell from her cheek and he turned his head away and breathed
deeply, as if struggling to reassert his self-control.

He still didn't let go of her wrist. Then again she hadn't made any attempt to take
her arm away - maybe she was too shocked. He pulled her after him, and she just
followed like a puppy, letting him lead her into his flat.

He didn't look at her when they were inside. He firmly planted her in the middle of
his lounge and then went to close the door.

She heard the bolts creak as he locked it behind them and then his steps tapped on
the floorboards. She was immersed in examining the suite of the First Paramount.
She had never visited him before, thinking it improper. His lounge was twice as big
as hers, which made it practically cavernous. In fact, she realised from the
layout, peeking into his overflowing library, that the First Paramount had a flat
that was twice the size of the others. The artwork on the ceiling was most
magnificent, in colours of light blue and gold depicting the famous scene of the
establishment of this very building three hundred years ago. There were rich
tapestries along the walls, even from here she could tell that the designs were
Ferenrove,

each tapestry probably worth a king's ransom.

He passed her and sat in an armchair across from where she stood. He gestured
towards the chair next to her. "Have a seat, Alleria."

"I'd rather stand, my lord."

Dagen's face grew dark at her words before his eyes softened and he spoke. "Please
call me Salem. At least when we're alone."

"Why should I -"

"You don't care for decorum, Alleria. I know of at least half a dozen servants who
call you by name. Why the double-standard?"

He had a point she didn't know how to counter. She breathed in deeply. Behaving
this way left her at a disadvantage and made her seem like nothing but an insolent
child. She decided upon a change of strategy and tread over to the armchair at her
side, sitting down stiffly.

"I should let you know, Salem." His name felt strange on her tongue, like a favour
she had never tasted before. "I have feelings for someone else whom I cherish
dearly."

He gave her a long look and then smiled, his dimples cutting deep and long in both
his cheeks. There was no denying the fact that when he smiled his brown eyes
radiated a charming warmth that softened her heart. "I've always been an optimist,
Alleria. And I know the way of changing hearts. Luckily, I pine for your future. I
can't compete for your feelings at present."

"You don't have my permission to compete for my anything," she snapped, growing
unhinged again despite her resolution not to.
A dire mistake, he seemed so smug at her reaction, leaning his elbow on the armrest
and giving her a sideways glance. "Your heart doesn't seem to want

your permission to do what it does."

Today it seemed she couldn't win against him. She assumed that the fact that she
couldn't appear dignified was why her face burned. "Is this what was so important
that you had to speak with me here in your flat?"

The playful spark vanished from his eyes, he grew serious at once, straightening in
his chair. "No, Alleria."

He didn't speak at once, he looked up, scanning the corners of the room behind her
and then turned to do the same behind his own back. She looked to where he looked
without really expecting to see anything.

But there was something there. The same pale white presence that was all about
Salem was also mingling in the overlaying patterns of the planes in the corners of
the room. They had their own unfamiliar pattern but what was more remarkable about
them was how they shifted and moved, constantly rearranging themselves to match the
patterns of the demon world.

"What are they?" she asked, forgetting everything in her fascination.

Salem stared at her. "You can see them." It wasn't a question, and the concern in
his voice wasn't imaginary either. "Alleria..."

She met his gaze, he knit his brow while looking at her, seemingly torn about
something.

"They're wards," he said, coming to a conclusion. "I brought you here because here
we can't be followed or traced by anyone who isn't... of my kind."

"What is your kind?" She wouldn't miss any chance until he'd tell her.

"The rich, handsome, clever kind, of course," he replied with a smile that vanished
quickly. "I brought you here to warn you

that there's a strange type of... demon living in your room."

Alleria's heartbeat quickened. He had seen Cassel after all. She swallowed. "Salem,
I thought you knew already. I'm a demon."

"You're not a demon..." - he frowned - "yet."

"But I will be, soon?"

"I can't say -"

"Yes you can, I see it in your eyes. If you know what's happening to me, please
speak. I can guess, and come up with theories and assessment, but the picture is
always partial, the story filled with holes. Tell me, Salem."

He was silent for a long time after she spoke. She noticed that he wouldn't look at
her. "I'm forbidden to interfere," he finally said. "I don't really know what's
going on either, I don't know where you're headed. But I can tell you something."

He got up and moved closer, sitting on the couch right next to her armchair. She
turned to face him but he still wouldn't look at her. "The yellow light... it would
appear as candlelight in your eyes. It beats and flickers to the rhythm of the
music. Some call it Presence, it's what the Individuals have, what every living
being has. But the Many don't have it, or rather, they can't keep it. They can only
hold very little Presence at a given moment and it will be taken away by another
one of them. They scramble and fight for it, eternally, in an endless battle. Only
the Authora can control them, granting Presence to those she selects."

"And the demon in my room?" Alleria asked.

"It's a strange demon. I can tell there's some of the Authora's Presence, but it's
weak, as if it were only granted a long time ago.

It's not an Individual, because they cannot be in this plane without forming a
mutual possession with a human being. Which brings me to the most worrying part
about this demon - you." He finally looked at her, and his expression was
unreadable. Alleria thought that it seemed as if he was in conflict about
something, but continuously undecided.

"Me?"

"Your Presence. It's taking it away. You're still partially human, so you can
always make more. But I'm worried."

"You don't have to worry yourself on my account, my lor - Salem," she said drily.

"Listen to me, please." He reached across, touching the back of her hand with his
fingers and at the same time locked his gaze with her's. She couldn't look away.
"Men like myself aren't quick to worry. I have the ability to see the bigger
picture and know which way to go. But when I look at you as you are now -"

"What do you mean?" She couldn't help feeling defensive, although she didn't know
what he was attacking or what she was trying to defend.

"You're fading, Alleria." His fingers closed over the palm of her hand. He had
rather big hands, she noticed, or perhaps her own hands were just small.

"Fading? You mean my Presence?"

He gave one single nod. "The demon in your room is leeching away your Presence
faster than you can create it. At this rate, both you and your half that is Other
are in danger. You need to talk to Irene and ask her to banish -"

Alleria rose to her feet, she heard enough. She wouldn't send Cassel back to the
Authora, or back to them. "You should know, Salem,"

she said his name with a tinge of poison in her voice causing him to flinch
visibly, "that Irene doesn't speak with her tools."

"Alleria..."

"No," she snapped. "You want me to take you seriously? You want me to trust you?
Then tell me what you are. All this talk about Presence..." - she shook her head -
"And yours is white and big and not even that present to begin with. Are you a
dragon, Salem? Or a ghost? What are you that you don't adhere to the rules you just
stated for every living being and every demon?"

"An outsider, Alleria."

"And?" She felt she was losing her patience with him. "What does that mean?"
"I can't tell you if you don't already know of my kind."

"Why?"

"That's just how it is." He blinked at her, though made no attempt to rise from the
sofa. He examined her in her state of frustration as if he were appreciating art.
"You know, I never wondered why..."

"I'm leaving." She turned and began storming out of the room.

"You would wonder, that's just like you. You ask 'why' about everything, like a
toddler."

Why was this room so big and the door so far? She wanted to put as much distance
between herself and Salem Dagen as she could.

"That's why I adore you, Alleria."

She had been halfway across the room already when his words hit her like a mountain
from behind. Her legs felt as if they had turned to stone. It was one thing to hear
him say that he intended to lose his senses about her, but this was...

This was too much!

"There's more to it, of course," he added when he knew he had her attention. "But I
knew from the start - when I met you, for the first time in my life, I've fallen in
love."

She turned her head, her eyes narrowed and glared like she never glared before.
Still, she couldn't find her tongue to speak.

He saw her expression and to her dismay, chortled. "I also knew that I'm a pitiful
man for falling for you and I'll be subject to your scorn before anything else."

She shook her head from side to side. Her legs finally decided to obey her.

She was out of his flat.

She was up the stairs.

She was at her own door.

Alleria clutched at her chest and sat on the black and white tiled floor outside
her door. Cassel would be in there. He would have to be dealt with. But she felt
too flustered and confused. A man she wasn't interested in confessed his love to
her in detail. If it were any man but Dagen, any man in the world, she knew she'd
feel repulsed. The thought of a feeling as intimate and precious as romantic love
travelling in the heart of a stranger should have been disturbing.

But she wasn't repulsed or disturbed.

She was shocked. Her emotions were frayed and frizzling in her mind. She didn't
know the words or names to describe what she was feeling aside from chaos.

Her head was a mess, and it was all Dagen's fault.

=================

Chapter 31 - Don't Speak

Chapter 31 - Don't Speak

Alleria closed the door and proceeded to step quietly into her bedroom. Like a
ghost, Cassel drifted in behind her. He didn't say a word.

She moved towards the bed, climbing into it and lying down face first. "I'm tired,
Cassel."

He padded across the room, standing over the bed. She could feel him looking at
her. Still, he remained silent.

She exhaled and stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. His blond hair
was as messy as always, casting a shadow over his face as he bent his head
slightly. No matter what anyone would say, she couldn't find anything evil about
Cassel.

Except on their first meeting, hadn't he behaved like someone else? She had not
seen another instance where he had been bad.

He moved down to his knees and placed his head over the edge of the bed, pressing
his cheek to the duvet. She automatically reached out and twined her fingers
through his hair.

Cassel wasn't bad.

She had seen his happiness, she had seen his grief and his fear. She had also seen
his pain.

And his death.

"You were with the Dagen," he murmured, sounding sullen and jealous.

As he had every right to be.

"What is he?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "You don't know?"

She sighed. "You can't tell me either, I suppose."

He shook his head, no. "He's not important." He reached out with his arm, hugging
her round the waist and pressed his forehead to her stomach. "'Leria," he said into
the fabric of her robe.

"Cassel? I need to ask you something." Her heart hammered in her chest. It wasn't

only that she couldn't see him the way others described him, she didn't want to. He
was hers, not just her friend, not just her companion, but part of who she was.

"Mmm?" He seemed to be able to do nothing but relish in her presence.

Her Presence.

"Are you... taking my Presence?"

He nodded into her belly and looked up at her with an open expression. "I can't
really control it, you know. I love you."

Well, at least he was honest about it. At least he didn't try to deny it. She felt
irritated, though. Cassel hadn't been the only one to tell her that he loved her
tonight. It should have been only Cassel.

"What do you mean, you can't control it?"

"Loving someone is getting hooked on their Presence. It's like my heart is open to
you and I want to feel everything about you. Every second thought in my head is you
and I don't know how to stop."

"But you're taking it too fast," she chided gently. "I can't make it as fast as
you're taking it."

Cassel lifted his head, there was a shadow between his eyebrows. Letting out a
frustrated breath he said, "I told you, I don't know how."

It was worrying him. It had been worrying him for a while now and he didn't say
anything. He hid the truth from her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"I didn't know how to. I've never loved anyone before. And..." He pulled back,
sitting on his heels, his face dark and serious. "I was gone, 'Leria. I was really,
really gone. But they kept me here, and you kept me here and she kept me here. I
don't know what's what anymore. I think to stop taking

I'll have to leave you. But I don't want to leave you..."

She rose on her elbow, feeling that with his every word something inside her
ripped. "I don't want you to leave either." And when she said those words, she knew
they were the truth. Being separated from Cassel had hurt, and in this strange
world she had entered, she needed him at her side.

No matter what anyone said, it was Dagen and not Cassel she had to watch out from.
"There has to be another way," she said after a moment's thought, examining the
ghostly patterns all about Cassel. Where was her Presence within all that? Why
couldn't she see it?

Maybe she was looking in the wrong place.

She sat up on the bed. Sitting with her legs crossed, she cupped his face between
both her hands and turned it upwards so she could examine his eyes. She bent her
head down, coming close, the tip of her nose nearly touching the tip of his. He sat
very still although he must've been uncomfortable sitting as he was in such an
awkward position.

The green of his eyes, she noticed, was actually blue on the outside and the inside
ring of the iris was flecked with ocher, the two colours mixing and creating olive
green. His skin was pale and smooth, without even the tiniest blemish.

Aside from that, she saw nothing.

"Where is it?" she asked.

"You're close," he whispered. "Try to see it the same way you hear the music."
She narrowed her eyes and strained her ears, bringing the music from the background
to the foreground. Her thumbs gently stroked his smooth cheeks - she just realised
now that

Cassel never shaved.

Then she somehow looked past his eyes and saw it all. She had a body, and a life,
but Cassel - he was nothing but Presence. And there was something else there too,
another body, another life.

But she couldn't decipher it. It kept only to the corners of her vision, running
away whenever she tried to look at it directly.

Soon the Presence, however, occupied her full attention. It was just so different.
Last she had seen it was when Cassel had tried to save her from the exorcist. It
had seemed like flickering candlelight, then.

Now it wasn't like that at all. There were many swirling colours in the Presence,
forming things that were almost like images, or patterns as intricate and beautiful
as the music of the demon world. It was as if the occult equations she had known
were only superficial and meaningless compared to this. They lacked the depth and
the subtlety, they lacked creativity.

It seemed, as if compared to this Presence - this energy - everything else was

devoid of the quality that made things real.

How to draw it back? She leaned in closer, but then her face pressed against
Cassel's and she couldn't come any closer. She called to it, but it stayed
contained inside him.

How to call it back?

"You're closed off, 'Leria. You need to open yourself to it." Cassel's voice seemed
to come from a distance. She was transfixed on the glowing Presence, unable to see
the physical forms of anything.

Closed off?

Indeed, now that he mentioned it she noticed that there was... something. Like a
barrier which

held her contained and separated from the world. And just when she realised this,
she realised that to open it, she had to be wiling to accept some things about the
world.

Like Cassel, she had to accept his existence. She had to let him inside that part
of her that was closed off in order to take back her Presence. With that
realisation came another - she knew exactly how to do it.

But for some reason, she couldn't.

She pulled away. Faster than anyone could even blink, the cold, hard, real world
was returned to her vision and the Presence was nowhere to be seen. She lay back
and looked at the ceiling. Cassel didn't say anything. He climbed onto the bed
beside her making the duvet rustle underneath him. Nestling his body to hers, he
moved about until he was comfortable.

She listened to his breathing, comforting and calm and released another sigh.
She felt, for some reason, exhausted. Maybe she would try again tomorrow. Although,
Alleria knew, she had never been very good at fooling herself. She would most
likely meet a similar result.

She turned, pressing her face against his shoulder. She hadn't given him permission
to lie in her bed, and yet here he was and she wasn't telling him to go away. She
perked up her chin. Why was she so confused? It was Cassel, not Dagen, whom she
loved.

But she trusted neither. Then again, maybe trust wasn't a thing she needed. Maybe,
aside from her parents, she wasn't going to trust anyone ever again. It was a silly
thought, and a depressing one.

Cassel leaned away slightly, he opened his mouth to speak.

For once, she desperately didn't want to talk. She took advantage of the slight
distance created by his movement, sliding her body against his and kissed him.

He didn't seem to mind, not in the least. He responded to her kiss gently at first,
and then his lips and tongue grew harder, hungrier, until her head became light
from lack of air. But they did not stop, and she wanted more, and he shared in her
greed.

She surrendered to her desires, longing to feel something other than what she
normally felt.

All she wanted was to have a moment's intimacy with Cassel.

What was one moment compared to an entire life? Was there even such a thing as a
love that was wrong?

A/N - So, you can probably guess what's happening here. To tell you the truth, in
the original plan I knew I was going to include this scene. And then I thought
maybe I wouldn't. Now I just decided to go with the characters and see what
happens. This may change in a later edit, but it seems plausible to me considering
how lonely Alleria really is, her current age (almost 18), her attempts at
discovering herself, at breaking her own boundaries, her willingness to grow up and
be an adult and also Cassel's close proximity these past few weeks.

I know many of you are unconvinced about Alleria's and Cassel's friendship, which
is fine. But remember, this is a first draft and already I know I want to add an
entire chapter that focuses on Alleria and Cassel that happens right after Chapter
5. I decided not to do anything, however, until I complete this draft till the very
end.

Anyway, I hope not too many of you are crying out "NOOOO ALLERIA!" hehehehe....

=================

Chapter 32 - A Wealth of Pain

Chapter 32 - A Wealth of Pain

A knock at the door early in the morning woke them. Alleria turned over within the
circle of Cassel's arms, pushing him back to allow herself to crane over his body
and retrieve her nightdress. She then proceeded to crawl out of bed and dressed
hastily. Finally, having buttoned down her dressing gown over her nightgown and
retrieved her slippers, she stepped out of the bedroom, through the lounge and to
the door of the flat.

It was a servant waiting outside, one Alleria didn't recognise. A young man with a
handsome face and a bored expression. He held a silver tray with a card upon it. "A
message from Scholar Kempett to you, Scholar Bellencreek," he said with a little
bow and offered her the tray.

She took the card and read it.

Lerramid Gazebo

April 14th

10:30 PM

There was nothing else, just a place, a date, a time. An appointment. She thanked
the servant and closed the door, leaning against it as she re-read the card.

It had been two weeks since she had boldly demanded a meeting with Johannes, and in
that time she had felt herself slowly unravel with anticipation and fear. The only
thing that kept her grounded for once was Cassel, the fact that he was now her
lover and more important to her than ever before.

The boy in question padded into the room yawning as he rubbed his lower back. She
smiled at him and he smiled back. He nodded at the card in her hand. "What's tha-"
Cassel gasped and his eyes widened but before

Alleria could understand the source of his surprise, he suddenly materialised at

her side like a ghost and parted her fingers, making her drop the card.

Or trying to. It stuck to her fingers before sizzling and bursting into a green
flame.

She cried out as searing hot pain bit into her skin and the smell of burning flesh
filled the air. Cassel swore loudly, dragging her across the room towards the
bathroom. She followed but just managed not to stumble over her own feet with tears
of pain blurring her vision. He turned on the cold water, pushing her fingers
underneath the faucet.

There was a moment of calm as cold penetrated the heat, but then the pain seemed to
burst out stronger, she grunted so as not to cry out again. Cassel pulled her hand
out of the water, using one towel to pat the burns dry and then wrapping her
fingers in a clean dry towel from the shelf over the sink. She tried to regulate
her breathing, as she hugged her hand to her chest and leaned against the wall. The
pain pulsed and gnawed at her.

"What was that?" she managed, though her voice was choked and breathless.

"That exorcist," Cassel said with unmasked fury. "I'll kill him. I don't care what
you say. I'll kill him."

"Don't overreact. A prank for a prank, right? I'll just use Ulundine -"

"Don't!" Cassel's sudden shout made her start, sending a jolt a pain up her arm.
"We don't know what this injury is, in fact...Wait here." He hurriedly walked
towards the bathroom door.
"Where are you going?"

"Your friend, the redhead... her name is Gina, right?" Cassel

looked over his shoulder at her. "I'm going to call her and she's going to help you
go downstairs."

"Why downstairs?"

"So you can have that Dagen take a look at your hand. I don't like Dagens, but if
one of them is here we might as well put him to good use. I'd take you myself, but
I don't think it's a good idea for me to meet him."

Alleria allowed herself to slip to the cool tiled bathroom floor as Cassel went off
to make the telephone call. It was obvious why Cassel would dislike this Dagen in
particular, but she wondered why all Dagens shared in the same sentiment. Cassel
soon returned and then helped Alleria seem more presentable by combing her hair and
pulling it up into a ponytail and putting socks and shoes on her feet. There was
nothing to be done about her clothes. Even these small little gestures were almost
too much to bear. Every movement created a fresh burst of pain and her brow was
soon covered with sweat. As they waited for Gina to arrive, Cassel ran his palms
over her back to try and sooth her and she noticed that his hands were shaking.

"Why do you hate all Dagens?" she asked, trying to distract them both from what was
happening.

"I don't hate them. I hate that exorcist, not Dagens. I just don't like them.
Nobody likes Dagens. They're such busybodies."

"They're very well-liked among humans."

"Well, you know how humans are."

Alleria agreed silently in her head just as Gina knocked on the door before
entering. Rushing into the bedroom, her mouth formed an O and her eyes widened when
she saw Alleria sitting alone at the edge of her

bed.

"I came as fast as I could. What happened?" she asked breathless from her run.

"I was..." Alleria didn't know what to say. "I think it's a type of prank. Please,
Gina, I need you to help me get to Lord Dagen's."

"Lerry, your hand... you need to see a physician!"

"No," Alleria snapped, rising to her feet. "It needs to be Dagen. I can't explain,
but please, Gina, please trust me?"

Gina nodded her head once before she scanned the room, her eyes passing over Cassel
without noticing him. She squinted, looking confusion, but said nothing more.

Alleria didn't have much of a mind to do or say anything. Even if Gina saw Cassel,
she wouldn't remember him.

Gina hugged Alleria round her shoulders and together they began the laborious task
of climbing down the tower. All the landings were deserted at this hour and there
was no sound but the echoing of their feet and Alleria's heavy, shaky breaths.
Every step and stair were agony, every passing second the pain seemed to grow more
unbearable.

The door before them was Dagen's, Alleria's knees buckled just as Gina knocked. She
curled her whole body round her hand. The pain was too intense, it melted all the
thoughts from her mind, making everything seem hazy and hollow.

The door opened with a creak. She lifted her tear-streaked, sweaty face to peek at
a sleepy-looking Dagen. She let her eyes drop to the floor.

"Thank you miss, I'll take it from here," she heard him say to Gina. She could see
Gina's feet as the girl hesitated.

"Won't you need my help, my lord?"

"It's quite alright,

miss."

Another moment of hesitation, and then Gina was gone, leaving Alleria alone with
Dagen. She shouldn't trust him, he had an agenda, and yet, in her current state,
there wasn't one whom she could trust more.

She could feel him standing over her, before he crouched down, placing a cool hand
across the back of her neck. "Alleria, can you tell me what did this to you?"

She moved her mouth several times before the word came out, "Johannes."

Dagen sucked in a breath. "Here? Now?" He sounded furious, almost as angry as

Cassel had been before.

Yes, it must have been the exorcist. He had looked like someone else, dressed as a
servant, but now that she examined her thoughts, she recognised him for what he
was. Pain was power to exorcists, he was at once weakening her and growing more
powerful.

She nodded her head slightly. Dagen looked up, searching the landing as if he
expected to see Johannes standing over her shoulder.

"Alleria, can you get up? We need to go into my flat."

She nodded mutely again and began trying to rise, but her legs refused to obey her.
She struggled to move, biting down on her lips hard to prevent herself from
succumbing to the pain and screaming.

"Stop, stop, stop," Dagen said, urgently but gently. "Don't exert yourself, I'm
going to have to lift you. I apologise."

The pain was too intense for her to care whether or not Dagen touched her. She felt
how his one arm snaked through the crook behind her knees and his other round the
middle of her back, before he placed his feet beneath him and rose, taking her

up with him.

She hissed as the pain rushed up a notch and darkness misted the edges of her
vision. She assumed he then walked into his flat and laid her upon the sofa.
Following that, she assumed he unwrapped the towel from her hand and examined her
fingers. But these things couldn't register in her pain-addled mind.
"...ria..." he seemed to say, but she couldn't really understand. He patted her
cheeks, forcing her mind to observe the present. "Alleria, don't faint. Breathe."

She listened to his words. She breathed.

"He's got a good hold on the burn. I'm going to try to sever the connection, but I
need you to keep your Other self away from here. Whatever happens, keep the demon
down, don't let it come forth."

Alleria nodded to indicate that she had heard his words. He gazed at her tenderly
for a moment before his eyes hardened. He drew in a deep breath, squaring his
shoulders and began.

She knew instantly that he was doing something when the room filled with his
ghostly white Presence. Or perhaps, a better way to describe it was that the
Presence that had been there suddenly became apparent. Whatever Dagen was, it was
not something contained within the body of the man she saw. The large room was
dwarfed by him. And it was an old kind of Presence, as ancient as the stars.

And then she remembered the music. Not as she heard it now, but back, in the
distant past, when it had held her mind captive. She was a child of ten, and had
heard a similar theme, the notes both blending and clashing with the music of the
demon world.

They, whatever they were, had tried,

to no avail, to stop her from falling into the demon world. She remembered the
glowing why tendrils they had sent her way, like hands reaching out to pull her
out.

"Alleria, keep it down!" Dagen's voice cried from a tremendous distance. She
snapped back to the present, instantly clamping down upon her mystery-filled owl-
like nature. She hadn't known she would know how to do it, she hadn't given it any
thought.

She blinked. The whiteness was so intense it felt like her vision had turned to
fog, she couldn't even see Dagen anymore. But then the pain was gone so abruptly
she felt giddy with relief and almost smiled.

Her happiness was shot out by a sudden weakness that overtook her body. She felt
heavy and dizzy. Her eyes were half-closed when the whiteness faded away and she
could see Dagen clearly again.

His skin was almost as white as his Presence and his expression strained. He looked
from her face to her hand. She made no move or sound as he left her a moment, only
to return with a bundle of white bandages and tiny jar of some sort of oily
ointment which he preceded to smear over her burnt fingers. He frowned, a crease
appearing between his brows while he neatly wrapped the bandages.

"Is it that bad?" she said, trying to alleviate the mood.

"Meetings with exorcists always lead to ugly scars. What did he give you?"

"A card."

"A card? Did it have anything written on it?

Alleria closed her mouth for a moment, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat.
She suddenly knew what Johannes planned and she was the fool to have fallen into
his trap. "A place,

a date and a time," she answered.

If possible, Dagen's grim expression became even darker, confirming her suspicions.
This was one appointment she couldn't back out of now. Cold fear edged down her
back. Her resolutions to be brave and never cower again seemed so childish.

"Where and when?" he asked, his voice clipped and businesslike.

"Lerramid Gazebo, two days from now at 10:30 in the night," she answered without
thinking.

"Very well," he said, nodding quietly. "We'll be ready for him."

"We?" After a small struggle, Alleria rose into a sitting position, her head
swimming slightly.

"I'm to accompany you." He shot up to his feet, glaring at her as his cheeks became
tinged pink from anger. "This is beyond all argument. It's a fact you're going to
have to accept. You allowed him to set the date and place, you will be meeting him
on his terms again, but you won't under any circumstances be doing that without
me."

She didn't quite know what to say, or perhaps, she didn't have anything to add.
Alleria lifted her good hand to face that was still rather clammy and was surprised
to find fresh tears wetting her cheek.

She was scared. So scared she wished she could stop being herself. The emotion was
like an iron fist that squeezed her stomach, making her shrink within herself. She
tried to suppress a silent sob as tears ran freely from her eyes. She nodded once.

No, she wouldn't argue with Dagen because the truth was she needed someone there.
Not Cassel, she would never let Johannes hurt Cassel again.

But Dagen was something else.

His anger

melted off his face and he sat down on the rug in front of her so that their faces
were level. He watched her silently as she wept. She could clearly see his
struggle, he longed to comfort her, preferably by holding her in his arms, but then
he knew she wouldn't let him.

"What if he hurts you?" she asked when she finished crying.

"His perception is narrow. I felt it now." Dagen smiled, every bit the arrogant man
she knew him to be. "I'm confident that he may not even know what I am. And even if
he does, he has never encountered one of my kind. That's for certain."

"And what is your kind?" She couldn't give up, even this opportunity. Her curiosity
was only bigger.

"I enjoy this game, Alleria," he said, crossing his legs. "But I haven't finished
making demands of you yet."

"What more do you want?"

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, rising to his feet, he turned his
back to her. "You've been avoiding me since that night. I thought it was because of
what I said to you, but now I see..." He fell silent again.

"I have my reasons."

"Oh, I can see that," he said, not even attempting to hide the bout of almost
savage bitterness from his voice. "I didn't think it were possible to have a demon
as a lover, but there's always something new to learn about this world, isn't
there?"

Alleria's first impulse was to try and deny the accusation, but then, what was the
point of lying? Apparently, he could tell the truth just by looking at her.
Although, he didn't have to make it sound like such a sin. People took on lovers
every day, everywhere in

the world. There was nothing wrong about that and it certainly wasn't illegal at
her age. Alleria never planned to marry, but that didn't mean she had chosen a life
of celibacy. The moment she had become of age to partake in such acts, she had been
wise enough to subject her body to prior precautions in case the matter of a lover
came by unexpectedly in her future. Although, she doubted that conceiving a child
were even possible with someone who didn't even truly exist. Regardless, she
regularly took the small pills the physician had prescribed.

"What of it?" she finally said. She hadn't intended to sound so cold, but her voice
came out breezily. "This is a private issue, it has nothing to do with you."

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. "I know, believe me, I do." He
looked back at here and there was no warmth is his eyes either. "Do you think I
want to feel this way? Jealous of an uncanny wraith? I just don't understand why
you would -"

"You don't know me very well, Salem." Her throat felt dry when she spoke and her
voice was completely flat. "You're convinced you're in love with me, I think you're
taken by some image of me you have in your mind. You don't know what my real story
is, you don't know what I really feel or think. All you know and see is what I
chose to show you."

He took a step back and sat into one of the armchairs, his hands tapping over the
armrests on either side. "All love begins that way, my dearest, but we're not going
to have this discussion now. I still have one more demand to make of you. I hope
you'll heed my advice, at least."

He

was resorting to pet names now? She steadied herself, holding his gaze as she got
ready for the worst.

"Until the meeting with Johaness, stay with me here -"

"Are you crazy?"

"Hear me out, Alleria. I'm completely serious. You need to be ready to face
Johanness. You need all your strength, and you need more Presence than what you
have now. Two days is not very long, but in that time I'll be able to shield you
from all those who feed and syphon off you. By my side, you'll be outside their
reach."

"You mean the occultists too? Not just Cassel?" The moment the name left her mouth,
she realised she made a mistake. A look of surprise flashed across his face but it
was gone as fast as it appeared. But Cassel's name meant something to him, and he
seemed to store it in the back of his mind to be dealt with later on.

What did it mean? She felt a new dread, an additional worry, flare through her
heart. What more could there be?

"Very well. I agree to stay here, but I'll have to make one last trip to my flat to
explain things to my... my companion and get some clothes -"

Dagen got up abruptly, walking out from her line of sight only to return quickly
with a notepad, a pen and a bottle of ink. "You can't waste even that amount of
Presence, you need everything for your encounter with Johannes. Write him a letter,
I'll slip it under the door, and also list your clothes and shoe sizes."

She thought about arguing, but there was too much logic in his words. She slowly
straightened into a sitting position, bringing her feet to the floor. If what just
happened told her anything, it was that there was a battle ahead. Johannes had done
this to weaken her and then ensure she came to him so he could finish her off. He
was bent on destroying her no matter what, no matter whom he would upset in the
process. She needed every bit of her strength and power.

She picked up the pen to write her measurements. "All of them?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll arrange clothes for you. Discreetly, I might add. It will be problematic
if people knew you were here."

He didn't have to explain what that would look like.

"Even -" She felt herself blush.

He laughed, for a moment - a very short moment - the previous tension between them
forgotten. "That too, unless you plan on reusing the same pair for the rest of your
stay here."

She wrote down her measurements without another word, her face burning with
embarrassment. When she finished, she blew on the ink and folded the note in half,
handing it to Dagen.

She didn't tell him and he certainly didn't have to know that in all her haste to
get dressed that morning and answer the door, she had neglected to wear any to
begin with.

A/N - Super long chapter to last you through the weekend. I doubt there will be an
update before Monday as I have a visiting family member. See you soon! xoxoxoxox

=================

Chapter 33 - Black Down To Your Socks

Chapter 33 - Black Down To Your Socks

Alleria closed the door behind her with a click and brushed down an imaginary piece
of twine from her black skirt. Dagen's smile greeted her as she walked into the
first Paramount's dinning room, her feet echoing in the large chamber as she headed
towards the long table.
Aside from the three spare bedrooms, every room of the First Paramount's flat was
ridiculous in scale. There was no reason anyone would need a dining room, a lounge
and a bedroom each the size of a medium ballroom.

Alleria was only too aware that the long walk from the door to the table allowed
Dagen to examine her closely. There was nothing innocent about the way he looked at
her - she knew this now. But his infatuation seemed peculiar, to say the least. If
it were only her mind or personality he found attractive, there would be no call
for him to gaze at her in such a way. Alleria knew she wasn't ugly and on certain
days when her hair decided to behave she was almost passably pretty, though aside
from her height there was nothing special about her appearance.

The way he stared at her though was almost idiotic - one would think she was a
siren or some other ethereal creature with hypnotising beauty.

"I must say, you look very smart in black," he said, confirming that from the
moment she had walked through the door he had been doing exactly what she
suspected.

"Why is everything black?" Alleria asked standing next to the table but making no
move to take a seat. Every single piece of clothing that had been delivered to her
was black - including

undergarments. Particularly the undergarments' colour was embarrassing, she had

never been the type of girl the wear that type of lingerie.

"I let my assistant, Sena choose everything for you. I think she prefers black."

"Sena? Is she the one with the blue eyes?" Alleria asked, connecting the name with
the face. Sena was the beautiful tan-skinned, dark-haired woman who followed Dagen
around. She was no academic assistant - she was an attendant assigned to Dagen due
to his lordship. In modern times they weren't called attendants anymore, though her
role was to cater for his lordship's needs and to keep his secrets. Alleria
remembered thinking that there was a type of intimacy between them. They had
doubtlessly known one another for a long time.

Dagen nodded in reply to her question, giving her an odd, searching look.

"I don't recall ever seeing her in black. Doesn't she favour pastel colours?"
Alleria mused.

Dagen nodded again. His lips formed a very particular smile, one she was beginning
to associate with his sly, manipulative side.

She let out an exasperated sigh. It wasn't that black was a bad colour to wear,
there was no actual taboo against it. But there was such a thing as wearing too
much black and it always put people in the mind of death and thieves. There was an
old imperial proverb - "Black down to your socks." - which either meant that you
have been caught doing something illegal, or your death is imminent - or both.

"You told her why I'm here?" she asked.

"There are no secrets between Sena and me," Dagen said slowly,

watching her the whole time. Was he goading her? Did he want her to behave
jealously?

She blinked at him. She couldn't understand him. Just when he was beginning to seem
trustworthy, he had to begin acting like this.

He noticed her expression and frowned. "Sena has been appointed to me by my father.
She reports my every move to him. It's easier for me to be honest with her rather
than be found out lying."

"Your father doesn't trust you?" Alleria asked and only after she did, it occurred
to her how insensitive her question was.

Dagen didn't seem disturbed, he shook his head and then gestured to the seat across
from him. There was an extra bowl of stew set for Alleria with a fresh roll of
bread next to it.

In the past day and a half, Alleria had remained confined to the bedroom wing of
the flat. She had found all her meals set out for her in the corridor between the
bedrooms, each time with a brief letter from Dagen apologising that he couldn't
dine with her.

It was to be expected. They had already agreed that secrecy was of utmost
importance and the First Paramount's time was always filled with other people. She
had been surprised that Dagen had found a moment's solitude and quiet to have
dinner with her now.

She slipped into the seat, and for a moment neither of them said anything. She
wondered if her comment actually did offend him.

"That's the type of man my father is," Dagen finally said. "It's not a matter of
trust. It's a matter of control. He'd live my life for me if it were possible." He
didn't sound bitter about it. In fact, there was

no particular emotion in his voice or his face. It was as if he were explaining to

Alleria the history of some distant kingdom.

"Is he like that with Samson as well?"

"No, no. Just me. I am the County heir, after all." Again, a flat reply.

Alleria felt her curiosity once against grab ahold of her. She decided to throw
caution to the wind. Haden't Dagen allowed himself to be rudely forward with her
before? Didn't that mean she could ask questions to her heart's content? "I've
always wondered why you're the heir. You're the fourth son. Your other brothers
don't seem like lesser men."

"They aren't lesser men." The way he said that told her too clearly that they were
lesser in something else. Or perhaps they were normal, but Salem Dagen was greater.

"So what you are... is a family thing?"

Her question won her a genuine smile. He lifted his spoon and with it gestured to
hers. "Eat, my dear. You need your strength. I noticed you barely touched your
other meals."

She picked up the spoon as instructed, dipped it into the heavy stew, stirring it
about. She recognised bits of meat, beans and potatoes. It was the usual stew
served at the academy, wholesome, filling and rich - and yet she could fathom
stomaching it. She put down the spoon and broke apart the plain white bread with
her fingers, biting into it.

"Aren't you hungry?"

She was hungry. She was so hungry her knees were weak and her mind felt light. But
fear also ran through her blood like a poison. She chewed and forced the bread
down. Somehow, there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away.

Dagen

made no comment as she struggled with her food. He ate a few bites of hit own stew.
Alleria kept her eyes on the table, on her bread, on her plate, she didn't want to
see the yearning expression on his face just then - she knew, that if she did, she
would want to be comforted.

"I told Sena about my feelings towards you," he said conversationally.

Alleria was forced to glare up at him, was he trying to distract her from her
thoughts by bringing up his now favourite topic of conversation?

"If I didn't, things wouldn't have added up. They would have known anyway. I've
never gone to such an extent for a woman before, offering her sanctuary at my
side."

Despite herself, she felt on safer ground talking about this than trying to figure
out why she couldn't eat. That was saying much about her mental state. "What does
your father make of it? I would think he'd be unhappy."

"Unhappy? Unhappy?" Dagen laughed. "If he could set a date for our wedding, or
better yet, our first born, he'd have arranged it all by now. A demon-touched human
of your power is my father's greatest dream for me. It's the first time in my life
when he supports me."

For a moment, Alleria was too shocked to say or do anything. There were several
reasons why she hadn't even taken the time to think over Dagen's confessions. The
first reason had been Cassel, of course, but then there was the matter of the age
gap and the vast difference in social standing.

But now the list became heavy by a clash of expectations. "I'm sorry, Salem, your
father will be very disappointed."

"Will

he, now?"

"I'll never marry, not you, not anyone. I'll certainly never have anyone's
children. I plan to live as a scholar and not allow the fact that I'm a woman get
in my way."

"I see," he said, but there was a very distinct spark in his brown eyes and one of
his dimples was burrowing into his cheek.

"You don't believe me," she said, sourly.

"I think you're quite sincere and very clear about what you want."

"And? Aren't you bothered?"

"You didn't say you'd never love me. As a matter of fact," - he leaned in across
the table, grinning triumphantly - "it's a relief to meet a seventeen year old girl
who dares have a powerful dream."
She felt her face flush and managed to sneak in a bite of stew. "You'll minimise
your chances every time you remind me how much younger I am," she muttered into her
plate.

If possible, his grin only grew wider. "You just admitted that I have chances."

She let down her spoon with a clatter and crossed her arms over her belly. "I love
someone else."

In an instant his smile was gone. "Are you quite sure of that?"

She clenched her jaw and rose, avoiding his gaze although she noticed how he wanted
her to meet his eye. "Thank you for the meal."

"You have your doubts, then."

"Stop it, please." She finally looked at him. She expected to see a smug expression
on his face, but his eyes were warm and kind. There was no hidden malice.

"It's natural to have doubts, Alleria. We doubt, and love, and doubt, and love
again. It's an endless cycle, but with every turn, the doubt should shrink and the
love should grow."

She couldn't find any reasonable reply to this. Her instinct was to deny his words.
She didn't doubt her and Cassel's love, it was just confusing to be in such a
relationship with someone who wasn't actually real.

"Is there a way for him to be a person again?" she asked despite herself. There was
a hopeless, desperate tone in her voice and in that instant she realised how she
longed for Cassel to be the living step-son of Mr. Malluri, for Cassel to live the
life that had been stolen from him by the Many and the Authora.

Dagen tried to hold her gaze for a moment, but he couldn't seem to look at her when
he answered with a small shake of his head. "The children that are lost, are lost
forever. What you have now with him is temporary, and comes at a cost."

Alleria clutched her hand to her heart and slowly began walking towards the door
from where she came. She needed to be alone.

"There used to be a time, more than a thousand years ago," Dagen began to speak,
his voice low and calm, "when the gatekeepers had the power to save the children
from falling into the Otherworld. The children capable of meeting Individuals were
given a choice; to be Encountered, or to go home free. But then a new Authora found
her way into the Otherworld. She was more powerful than an Authora should ever be
and she forced the gatekeepers into a life of mortality. Now their reach is
limited, and innocent children, like your Cassel, fall between their fingers."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It's important for you, of all people, to know what happened to him and why you
can't keep him here."

She sucked in a shaky breath, feeling something within her tremble. "I don't see
why things have to be the way they are."

And she stormed away, trying with all her might to believe her own words.
=================

Chapter 33 - The Gazebo

Chapter 33 - The Gazebo

Dagen's fingers tapped over the steering wheel as his car bounced down the gravel
path to the High Academy gate. On their left was the Duremia canal that spilled
water from the Mayurno river to the bigger, wider Demn river. This time of year
when the snow from the mountains melted, it was swollen with glossy black water
gleaming in the moonlight.

Alleria couldn't speak. She hadn't spoken to anyone in the past day or so and it
felt like silence had become a habit. Aside from Dagen, since the morning she had
received the burns on her right hand, she had seen only Gina - and briefly, just to
tell her that everything was fine.

And the less Gina knew about what was going on, the better. Mr. Tinpoint, Gina had
told Alleria, was worried but took everything in stride. No one knew of Cassel's
existence to tell her how he was doing.

"We need to make a plan," Dagen said conversationally as the porter opened the
heavy wrought-iron gate and let them through.

Alleria nodded feeling, not for the first time, like a sheep being led to the
slaughter.

"He will have a trap set in place for you, we need to break it before we spring
it."

"Do you know anything about exorcist methods?"Alleria broke her silence, her voice
coming out dry. She had seen Johannes at work, but she couldn't understand the
science behind it. That had been, of course, the reason for all this madness in the
first place, she needed to learn how it worked because she knew - this was exactly
the missing piece for the algorithm. Exorcists somehow manipulated

life itself to serve their purposes - but how? She doubted now that Johannes had
any intention to speak, let alone help her solve this puzzle and explain to her
what it was he did.

"I don't know much about the way people manipulate the planes. But I can tell you
that exorcists are vulnerable just as they are strong."

She looked at her fingers. They were wrapped in gauze and some tape, but the burns
were healing remarkably fast after Dagen had severed the connection. "What do you
mean, vulnerable?"

"They deal in Presence, Alleria. Human beings shouldn't have that ability. But they
do. By mutilating themselves, they become open to it, gaining power over it but
also placing themselves in a dangerous position."

"I..." Alleria paused. What she had almost done back then with Cassel, it could
hardly be considered scientific. She hadn't known what she was doing, she had felt
what should be done. "I can deal in Presence too."

"You're different, you've Encountered. You're a whole being, but no longer entirely
human. Johannes has removed a piece of himself, and bit by bit he continues to
crumble."
"So what is it I have to do to win?" she asked, though the answer she would receive
worried her.

Dagen took his eyes off the winding road for but a moment to give her a sidelong
glance. "Reach inside him and influence his own Presence. Alleria, you must
Encounter him."

She felt her eyebrows arch. She didn't expect that. "Encounter him? Is that even
possible?"

"It won't be the same as what happened between you and your Individual, it isn't a
bond of possession but more

a directive. You plant the seed that will destroy him from within. He took your
Presence through pain before and in doing so, corrupted what he had taken to serve
his purposes. You need to turn the tables on him, remove the corruption from the
Presence he had taken. And following that..." Dagen stopped speaking, as he turned
the car left leading them from the thin, snaking road of the High Academy and on to
the wide main road that would take them to Callivar.

Time passed without any words spoken.

"Following that?" Alleria offered, resuming the discussion even though she didn't
want to know.

"He will most likely die," Dagen said and then pursed his lips into a grim line.

Oh.

Alleria contemplated this for a long moment, they drove on in silence. It wasn't
that she doubted Johannes's wish to kill her - he had almost succeeded in doing so
less than a year ago - but somehow that didn't inspire a desire within her to kill
him back. "When I last met Johannes, Seppira wanted to kill him, but the me that
isn't me stopped her. I said.... 'there is no reason to shorten an existence that
is already narrow and momentary.'"

The corners of Dagen's lips turned up and a dimple cut into his cheek. "That
certainly sounds like Ulundine. If you won't destroy him, Alleria, then what will
you do?"

"I'll find a way to survive tonight." She wished she felt as confident as she
sounded.

The drive ended quite abruptly a few minutes later. Lerramid Gazebo was in the
entrance to Lerramid Natural Park just outside Callivar. It was deserted at this
time of night. They parked

the car in the car park of the main entrance to Lerramid. There were two other
vehicles there. One Alleria assumed belonged to Johannes, but then who did the
other belong to? She exchanged a glance with Dagen who looked equally perplexed.

He walked up to the two parked cars, his shoes crunching over the gravel, Alleria
followed. She was fully aware that there were several firms that made cars and that
each one of them had their own trademark symbol, technologies and designs, but she
had never cared enough to know which was which. In the village, only her parents
and a couple of other families owned cars, and those were purchased second-hand,
solely for their reliability and nothing else.
Dagen tapped the window of one of them. "This one belongs to a woman, a lady of
note considering the model," he said. Indeed, there was a pair of high heeled pumps
discarded on the floor of the passenger seat and a distinctly feminine scarf thrown
over the driver's seat. He walked around the car and looked at something on the
hood, lifting his head to frown at Alleria. "Ah..."

She walked around the car to see what he saw. There was a six-pointed star painted
in gold, dimply visible in the darkness. Nevertheless, she recognised it. "Oh no."
She passed her fingers over it, feeling her heart hammer in her ears. What exactly
was Johannes plotting?

"She's either his ally -"

"That's unlikely," Alleria interrupted.

Dagen arched a single dark eyebrow. "She could be his hostage."

That was even less likely. Alleria didn't say anything about it. She clasped her
hands together tightly,

drawing in a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

He turned to her, regarding her with that same friendly warmth that had caused her
to lose her senses the first time she met him. He lifted his hands, hesitated for a
short moment and then grasped both her shoulders locking his gaze with hers. "My
interest in you may seem strange, and I may have warranted your suspicion, but
Alleria, you can trust me. I swear, I will never betray you because betraying you
would mean betraying myself."

She felt her face flush, a confession of loyalty felt more intimate and carried
more weight than a confession of love. Nevertheless, she would have liked it if his
words simply brushed her ears and didn't make something within her sway. She broke
away from his intense gaze on the pretext of nodding and then turned and began
walking towards the stairs that led from the car park and up to the gazebo. Her
hands were still firmly clasped together.

Side by side, they climbed the two flights of white stone stairs, the round, dark,
shimmering expanse of the gazebo coming into view. There was an urban legend
proclaiming that the gazebo was paved with pure jade but while the shiny green
paving stones were beautiful, they were not quite as expensive. Encircling the
gazebo were two dozen white pillars forming two dozen U-shaped archways, holding in
place the metal net upon which grew a canopy of grapevines. Aside from the archway
that led in from the car park, and the archway directly in front of it that led on
to Lerramid Park, between every two pillars were white painted benches, their
wrought metal frames shaped

like vines and leaves to compliment the overhead canopy.

Very little moonlight penetrated through the grapevines above them. Alleria
remained on the last step and looked straight ahead. In the very centre of the
gazebo, Johannes stood sombre-looking and calm. Her eyes strayed to the farthest
bench where a woman in bright-coloured clothing sat with her legs crossed. She held
a silk shawl closely around her body and had the appearance of someone utterly
bored.

Alleria fought to swallow her disappointment. After one confession of loyalty, a

betrayal was confirmed. Lady Morway lifted her gaze to meet Alleria's and smirked.

But then Morway's eyes moved on to look at Dagen, and the expression she wore
suddenly explained everything to Alleria. "By any chance, did you two...?" Alleria
began.

Dagen's jaw had already been set tightly, but it appeared to tighten even more.
"Not as far as I know. There was a time, a few years ago that the Morways were
eager to discuss the match, but I never bothered to show up for the negotiations.
Lady Erna has always been a manipulative bitch, I would never marry that type."

Alleria turned her head to look at Dagen questioningly.

He offered her a small smile that was out of place considering their current
situation and made to walk forward into the gazebo. Her hand shot out and she
grasped his upper arm her fingers digging into the sleeve of his jacket, stopping
him from moving.

"Look," she said, pointing at the ground where she could see a faded red line. She
wasn't sure whether what she saw was with her normal vision, or the part of her
that can

discern between the patterns of the planes.

Or both.

Dagen pulled a white glove out of his pocket and put it on. Bending down, he
touched the line with his gloved finger. It came back stained brown, he sniffed it.
"Blood."

"He somehow operates in circles," Alleria mused, thinking about the trick Cassel
had tried when they first saw the demon walking down the street, and then the night
of Cassel's death, Johannes has captured him with a circle...

"Then that explains his choice of location," Dagen said, removing the glove and
throwing it onto the floor of the gazebo.

Alleria nodded, raising her chin. "You expect me to just walk into that, exorcist?"
she called out. She wished her voice wasn't as feminine, or as high pitched when
she raised it.

"You wished to meet me, daughter of the devil," he said smoothly. He didn't shout,
and yet she could hear him clearly. "And here I have arranged a meeting." He
gestured to the gazebo around him. "You will be compelled to enter, little bird."

"And Lady Morway? Why is she here?" Alleria asked.

"I'm not here for you, my dear," Lady Morway replied loudly, her voice somehow
echoing through the gazebo as if it were a hall. "My interest is with your
companion. Why are you here Lord Salem?"

"Why indeed, Lady Erna? Have you so little imagination you cannot guess the
answer?"

Lady Morway rose to her feet and began walking towards them, her footfalls clicking
on the dark hard tiles. Alleria noticed that the lady had abandoned her usual high
heeled shoes for the sake of flat ballerina shoes. Her clothes were

more practical than they usually were, there to offer comfort while moving rather
than a ravishing show.

Yet most important was the way she walked towards them, not in a straight line that
would bring her into close proximity with Johannes, but around, in a half circle.
"My thoughts seem to tell me that you would stoop so low as to associate yourself
with a nobody devil-spawn. My informants have told me that the two of you are
lovers. It would almost seem like a joke if the very idea was not so disgusting."

Dagen's full attention was locked on her. "Ah, nobles and their unending
inferiority complex. How you prattle on..."

"Don't take this personally, Salem," Morway cut him off. She pulled something out
of the confines of her dress. It was small and silver, she held it in the air at
arm's length.

A bell? Like the one lords used to call the servants. On Alleria's side, Dagen
stiffened.

"I've always known what you were, but to find your weakness, that has taken me some
time. Nevertheless, my reach is far. You dare appear human, I wonder, what would
happen if I revealed you here?"

"If you try," Dagen said drily, "you will not survive to know. I would not enjoy
ending your life, but have no doubt that I will be obligated to."

The way he said it sounded as if Dagen had killed in the past. Alleria gave him a
long look. If possible, he seemed even more strained than before.

"I wouldn't dream of doubting you, silly boy," Morway said with a gracious smile
that made Alleria's skin crawl. "Fortunately for all of us, you can prevent that
from ever happening."

She heard enough. If this was how it was going to be, she needed to act now and end
this. Alleria bit the inside of her cheek and turned, walking to the right and
began circling the outside of the gazebo. Whenever she looked, she saw Johannes
watching her, observing what she was doing.

"You stay out of this, Lord Salem," Morway said after pausing a moment to see what
Alleria would do, "or I ring the bell. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Quite clear," Dagen said stiffly. "I do hope you won't be too shattered when you
realise that what you believe to be real is only a delusion."

Alleria reached the far side of the gazebo, the whole way she leaned her Presence
against the blood-circle, searching for some weakness. It felt much like passing
one's hand over cloth, searching for the seams. She tried to keep her head clear
and calm. But whatever Johannes was doing here had changed the balance of the
planes and she could hear the music of the demon world blaring.

"You won't find what you're looking for," Johannes said in a sing-song voice, he
looked patient, as if he were simply here waiting for the train to arrive.

"Aren't you curious to know why I wished to meet?" Alleria asked as she moved on to
complete the circuit around the gazebo.

"I do not converse with demons," he said drily. "I saw merely an invitation to
destroy you."

Alleria reached Dagen's side again, she looked at him and he nodded. Could he tell
what she planned to do? She closed her eyes and let the music fill her. She could
feel the feathers rise, prickling underneath her skin and breaking through.
"Do not attempt what you can't begin to achieve. You will only destroy yourself,"
she said.

A/N - I apologise ahead of time, this chapter and the next will need much editing.
That's the fun of reading a first draft, you get to see all my silly sneaky
mistakes!

=================

Chapter 34 - What Are Monsters?

Chapter 34 - What Are Monsters?

The feathers were like a mist in the night, blotting out the moonlight, calling
forth a deeper darkness. Fluttering lightly, Alleria spread out in a million little
pieces until she encircled the entire gazebo. She closed in around the blood-
circle.

"If you speak only the language of violence tonight, then there is nothing for us
to discuss."

She leaned in, closing herself around the circle, tightening slowly like a noose.
She could feel its foul presence against her, it resisted at first seemingly
unmovable - but then it began to budge, shrinking in bit by bit towards Johannes.

"If I did not despise your existence, demon, I would have been impressed to see
that my circle yields to you. I agree that there is nothing for us to discuss, let
us end this now." The exorcist pulled out his knife. Alleria did not see the blade,
for there was not enough light to see by, but she smelled its acrid scent.

"Come here," he commanded.

In an instant she was knocked back together so hard it felt like she had been
squashed like an insect under a boot. Her form did not shrink, the feathers were
still present all about her body, she could feel her clawed feet in her shoes and
knew that they still did not touch the ground. But her hands were her own hands,
she brought her left hand to her face to discover that she did not have a beak.

"Come here," Johannes repeated, a note of impatience sounding in his voice.

A powerful force grabbed her by her injured fingers and whisked her into the middle
of the blood-circle, trailing black feathers

behind her. She almost came crashing into Johannes but he stopped her by seizing
the front of her blouse, causing the two top buttons to fall with tiny clatters to
the floor. He pressed the blade to her throat.

The circle of blood continued to shrink inward, though now it happened rapidly and
she was held within the trap. She could not voluntarily move. The paralysis spread
from her fingers to the rest of her body. How was he doing this? Didn't Dagen
severe the connection?

Johannes took the time to examine her face. "It infuriates me," he said through his
teeth. "When I see the child it took and defiled. A clever child, a pretty child...
destroyed."

The circle closed around her. She could barely breath. Her arms were pinned to her
sides as the circle pressed tighter, biting into her flesh. It felt as if it would
cut her in half. She locked her teeth together, holding back a scream. She was now
not only paralysed by the strange spell he had over her, but by her own fear. He
still clutched her blouse, but lowered the knife and grinned.

"I will admit," he continued, his eyes half-closed and his voice musical, almost
gentle. "I have never experienced such power. What I have taken from you, demon,
was exquisite. It's such a shame to finish you off. The temptation of keeping you
as a resource is almost too strong to resist." With the back of his hand, her
stroked her cheek. She felt her stomach turn with disgust. She felt repulsed even
to breath in his presence. "Wouldn't you have liked that, little bird? To be
allowed to live in exchange for power?"

His gaze turned into a cold

glare and he let go of her blouse only to grasp her by the throat. "But there's too
little left," he hissed. "You somehow held on to your little remora, but it has
since become a predator itself. It is pathetic, what you have allowed yourself to
become, there is not much here even to annihilate."

He let her go, but without his grasp, tied as she was by his spell, she could not
stand and she fell to her knees at his feet. She had little power to do anything
aside from keep her eyes open. Fear trampled all thoughts in her mind, it held her
in a stronger cinch than any spell could. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her
face upward. His mouth formed a grin.

"I will take every bit of pain that you didn't give me, until your tainted soul
cries out in anguish and then I will take pleasure in finishing what I started."

Breathe. She needed to breathe. She was not helpless. She wouldn't let him win. But
no matter how she prompted herself, the fear made her numb, made her feel
scatterbrained and weak.

His grin widened to reveal white teeth. Again he touched the back of the hand
holding the knife to her cheek and then slid it down the side of her neck, to her
collarbone and finally down to her chest. "The heart first. The best pain comes
from the heart."

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

That was when something white and powerful hit him.

From where she sat, she couldn't see what hit Johannes, only that he fell to the
ground by her side. There was a metallic click and Dagen walked into her line of
sight, aiming a pistol at the exorcist.

"You're

not immune to guns, I presume," Dagen said. "I could try other ways but this one is
quite handy. Release her."

At her side, Johannes scrabbled to his feet omitting a dry sound like two stones
grinding against each other - she realised that this was the sound of his laughter.

There was a strange, uncomfortable tension, and then suddenly Dagen's eyebrows shot
up and he jumped back, letting go of the pistol just as it exploded.

"I did wish to test my new power," Johannes said, "it is very kind of you to step
forward."

Dagen watched as the shattered remains of the pistol caught in the exorcist's spell
hovered in the air for a moment before being released and raining down onto the
tiled floor. He seemed preoccupied but otherwise undisturbed by this turn of
events. Alleria turned her head to look past Dagen at the brightly glad form of
Lady Morway lying on the floor a few feet away, the silver bell broken by her head.

Was she dead?

Alleria's gaze then moved to Johanne's knife which had fallen out of his hand when
Dagen had hit him and had slid away. He could not perform another ritual without
it, but did he really need it? It seemed that the pain he had sucked out of her two
days ago provided him with enough of a fighting chance.

A tendril of Dagen's white presence shot out, knocking Johannes off his feet again
and pinning him in place. "Release her," Dagen repeated, kicking aside the pieces
of shattered gun.

Johannes narrowed his eyes and gestured with his head at Dagen who shuddered and
gasped, taking a step back and then standing unnaturally still balanced

only on his toes. His hands twitched at his side, and his wide eyes danced in his
head but he could not seem to blink.

Rage rushed to her head almost obscuring the scene before her.

She would not sit by and allow this. She would never again let him hurt someone she
cared about. She tried to push against the blood circle, but that only caused it to
tighten. Johannes was too focused on Dagen to control her through her fingers like
he had done before. She fell apart into a million pieces, the blood circle
shrinking down to bind a single dark-brown feather. She flapped and flew towards
Dagen, wrapping her wings around his body.

And somehow, she looked inside him. She saw the massive white Presence, seemingly
endless in its size. She could feel how her stolen Presence was being used by the
exorcist, clamping on Dagen with a steel-like grip. Without even knowing or
understand Dagen's size, Johannes was trying to break him but meeting resistance.
Nevertheless, Dagen was frozen, unable to do anything but fight Johannes's malice.
If nothing would be done soon, Dagen would be injured.

She didn't know what to do. Rather, she felt what needed to be done. She opened
herself, just a small crack and Encountered Dagen, exchanging a tiny pebble of her
Presence with a tiny pebble of his.

She felt very strange after doing that and could hear the rhythms of his soft and
ancient melody inside her own music. She saw how the golden bead of her Presence
melded with the vast endless whiteness of Dagen's, spreading out to the where
Johannes clutched him and slipping out of the choking

grasp.
Dagen's body sagged against her and she continued to hold him protectively within
the folds of her wings.

But when it was done, she turned her attention to the exorcist. He nearly hurt
Dagen with just a small piece of her Presence but she had more than him. She was
the source. "Try as you might, you cannot defeat an ocean with a droplet of rain."

Johannes retreated a step away from her, worry finally crossing his face. Alleria
didn't need to advance, she simply grew, towering over him until he seemed in her
eyes like a child. With Dagen shielded by one wing, she extended a winged arm,
hooking her claws around Johannes and lifting him into the air.

"You will not destroy me, you will aid me and tell me what I need to know so I can
help the people of this plane."

"Help them?" Johannes cried, struggling against her grasp. His face was pale,
contorted in fear, sweat gleamed on his brow. "Look at you! You're a monster. Don't
you know that it's you who has caused this chaos? You disturbed the balance."

"The nature of balance is to be disturbed and rightened. An age of change has come.
The Authora's reign draws to a close. But suffering can be prevented."

"That has nothing to do with our plane!" the exorcist screamed. "You meddle and
destroy, taking and breaking innocent children for no purpose at all but to deal
with your internal politics. Your problems are your own, keep them over there in
that place!"

"Both places are one and the same. To separate is to destroy, to ignore is to
forsake oneself, to forget is to diminish. The Authora has carved you,

small human. You are naught but her instrument, created by her touch. She whispers
forever into the broken void within you."

And Alleria did what she swore she wouldn't do, she opened herself and Encountered
the exorcist, exchanging the smallest fragment of his dulled, muted Presence with
her own. She didn't feel revolted to touch him so intimately, though it was not
like Encountering Dagen either.

Images flashed through her mind, mostly of colours and shapes, snatches of noise
and piece of emotions she couldn't even name. Though she sensed turmoil and
suffering without knowing their source. The new addition to her music was like a
cacophony at first, disjoined sounds screeching and crashing against her melody.
But soon these notes smoothed over, as if being part of something bigger, and
grander offered them tranquility.

She put the exorcist down and shrunk back to herself, her feet meeting the ground
as Dagen too regained his own balance and turned his pale face to regard her.

She still had her arm around him, she moved away quickly and then stared at
Johannes. He was clutching his head, panting. For a moment she worried that he was
dying now. She slowly walked towards him.

"What have you done to me?" he hissed in a breathless whisper that shook with
emotion. When he looked up at her, his face was a mask of terror.

"I've Encountered you," she said. She bent down, lifting her discarded feather that
was still trapped within the tiny blood circle. She turned it over in her hands,
examining it as she walked until she stood right in front of Johannes.
He fell to his bottom

and scrambled away from her. She wondered what she would do with it. When she
searched herself, she found that she was still completely whole, despite the
missing feather.

Sometimes, birds lose feathers.

"This is for you," she said, handing it to him. He made no move to take it, so she
simply tucked it into his shirt pocket and then took a step back. "Now tell me how
it works."

Her demand surprised him enough for him to meet her gaze directly.

"I need to know about exorcist methods," she continued.

He stared at her for a long moment, then finally opened his mouth and said, "Why?"

"Because I want to understand. Is it the radius of the circle? Do you somehow take
it into account? What's the science behind your methods?"

Johannes's eyebrows climbed so high they nearly reached his hairline. "This is why
you called a meeting with me? You wish me to teach you one of the forbidden schools
of knowledge?"

"Aye."

He smirked and rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes. "There is nothing."

"Nothing?"

"No science, no rules, no methods. It is all whimsical instinct. Didn't you notice
yourself? There is no how there's simply an is."

"But then what about -"

"There isn't that either. I simply know in that moment what needs to be done and
how to do it," he snapped and with one last glare, turned away from her marching
towards where Lady Morway was just coming to her senses. He knelt down and dug his
arms around her body, lifting her into a sitting position.

"Kai..." she murmured as he helped her to her feet. She shot one glance

behind her at Dagen and then leaned into Johannes.

Alleria stared at them. So that's how it was. And what would esteemed House Morway
say about their precious Erna entangling herself with an exorcist? She doubted Lady
Morway would have revealed herself in this way if she had known that Alleria would
survive the night.

She watched the retreating couple and when they were out of sight, she sat on the
floor of the gazebo with her knees bent towards her chest and hugged her arms over
her head.

Dagen's cool fingers brushed against the back of her neck. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Alleria said, her voice muffled by her arms.

"Then...are you sulking?"

"I'm trying to think."

"That went better than I thought," Dagen said cheerfully, sitting next to her.

She lifted her head, feeling, for some strange reason, the weight of tears behind
her eyes. "It was pointless. He's going to die because of what I did. I just killed
someone and there was no point."

Dagen seemed very still at her side, she turned to look at him and saw that he was
gazing towards where Johannes and Morway had vanished. "Are you so certain he'll
die?"

She nodded her head. She noticed how he saw the gesture from the corner of his eye
and grunted.

"He may yet survive."

She hugged her arms round her knees and placed her chin between them. "Do monsters
know they're monsters?"

He nudged her gently. "If you're a monster, then so am I."

What did it even mean? Monsters, demons... they had seemed like evil words in the
distant past. Were they just things that threatened what one believed? Was being a
monster and a demon all about invoking fear in the hearts of those who faced you?

How deformed was she when she was something Other than herself?

"Was I frightening?"

"Not to me. I like you in every form. I know it's always you."

She turned to look at him. "Because you've probably seen much scarier things as a
gatekeeper." That's what he was. Whatever it meant, whatever shape his kind had -
he was a gatekeeper, a creature of the in-between. He had all but told her this the
other day. She didn't need much to draw the obvious conclusion.

"The most frightening thing of all is to helplessly watch a child fall into
oblivion," he replied mournfully. His tone struck a chord in her heart, that night
all those years ago, she remembered their desperate song.

The weight of tears returned to her eyes.

"I'm both glad and sorry that you came," she said when she was sure she wouldn't
cry. "But I may have overestimated you."

"I didn't know they'd get one of those bells," he said with an impish grin,
glancing over at the smashed remains of the bell.

"What would have happened if she rang it?"

He hesitated before speaking, Alleria wondered if it was because he wasn't allowed

to share the information. "I would have transformed into my original form and if
she were fast enough not to get trampled to death, I would have had to obey her
every command."

When he finished speaking, he looked so grim that, despite her own turmoil, she
rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Sounds useful, where could I get a bell like that?"

He chortled, looking surprised to find himself laughing. "You don't need one,
Alleria."

She felt her face flush. Why was she behaving this way again with Dagen? She got to
her feet and collected the pieces of broken gun, smashed bell and Johannes's knife
before stalking towards the stairs.

Dagen followed behind.

=================

Chapter 35 - A Boy Within A Boy

Chapter 35 - A Boy Within A Boy

It was well past midnight when Alleria navigated the dark servants' passages up the
tower to her flat. She had expected Dagen to argue when she announced that she was
going back to her room, but he had just given her a sombre look and nodded, bidding
her goodnight.

Somehow, the way he looked at her was more disturbing than if he would have
protested against what she was doing. She was almost certain that she wasn't a
fickle girl. A few days with Cassel out of sight wouldn't make her forget him or
what they had gone through.

But not for the first time she wondered where they were going. One didn't have to
be a genius to know that there should be more to Cassel than simply their love.
Suddenly, their moments together seemed narrow, as if the second she stepped out of
her flat whatever happened between them ceased to be real.

She wondered if she felt like this because of Cassel's particular existential
condition.

Throwing off her shoes when she walked in, she moved on from the lounge to the
bedroom, the whole time expecting Cassel to spring at her from somewhere, his face
open and eager as he waited for her like a lost puppy.

But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere.

She released a sigh - did she feel relief? It was a good thing he had things to do
other than wander their flat like a ghost. Maybe it was a step in the right
direction?

Why then was there a prickle of worry at the back of her mind? She showered and
dressed in her nightgown, slipping underneath the covers of her bed. It felt large
and lonely without Cassel,

but she managed to fall asleep regardless.

***

Cassel returned in the morning.

Alleria was at her mirror trying with all her might and make up to hide a
particularly nasty bruise that had, at some point during the events of the night,
appeared on her chin. It was still in the rough red stage and had not yet turned
all the other colours.

He sauntered in with his messy blond hair and an excited expression, pouncing on
her from behind and lifting her into the air.

Alleria gasped but didn't know whether or not she was expected to giggle. Cassel
wasn't much taller than her and she was worried that her weight would break his
back. "I'm so happy you're alright," he murmured, putting her down and burying his
face in the nook between her neck and shoulder.

She turned around to face him, placing her palm over his chest. His heart was
beating rapidly, his eyes bright and excited. He seemed pale, but otherwise fine.
"I got back last night, where were you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was too restless waiting for you so I went for a walk
and couldn't find my way back until morning."

Alleria nodded, she could tell he was lying but she chose not to counter him.
Besides, the High Academy grounds were indeed massive, getting lost in the dark
wasn't so unlikely.

She put it out of her mind. She put many things out of her mind as more exams
approached, bringing her first year at the High Academy to a close. Soon she fell
into the same comfortable rhythm with Cassel and avoided all contact with Dagen.

Though her doubts continued to spice her thoughts. She

didn't have the presence of mind or the energy to question her decisions. Cassel
was there to chase away the loneliness that had been her share in the former half
of the year. He continued his unexplained absences and to take away her Presence,
although now that she was down to her very last strands, he did it with more
caution.

Spring dried away, summer descended, she passed the exams successfully. Now, the
next hurdle looming in her future was the next midyear and the requirement to hand
in her research.

The algorithm was incomplete. She tried to bend her mind over it, to tinker, to
understand, but nothing worked. They were in the darkness once more and on the high
road towards ruin.

There was no room nor time to consider whether or not she could afford to continue
her relationship with Cassel - at least, that was what she had tried to believe.

But reality harshly came to slap her across the face.

"Wasn't she your friend, Bellencreek?" Tinpoint asked one morning in early July as
he bustled into the Dining room for another day of algorithm failure.

Alleria looked blankly at her academic assistant. "Who?"

"You haven't heard?" he asked excitedly.

Alleria's eyes widened and she jumped to her feet in alarm. "Did anything happen to
Gina?"

"Gina?" Tinpoint took a step back, looking over his shoulder, his cheeks growing
slightly pink. "What- what -why...."

Alleria's shoulders relaxed, obviously whoever he was talking about wasn't Gina.
"Let's go back to beginning. What happened to whom?"

Tinpoint came to his senses, nodding his head. "Apparently it's in todays

paper-"

"You've read today's paper?"

"Don't be daft, I never read the paper. Some of the other assistants were talking
about it over breakfast."

Alleria blinked, she had never considered Tinpoint's life outside their days
working together. She bit her lip, had she already managed to become so conceited?
She knew he slept somewhere in the dormitory assigned for academic assistants and
led his own life here. Had he managed to make any friends despite her own
reputation hanging over his head?

"I haven't seen today's paper yet," Alleria said slowly.

"Anyway," Tinpoint said, sitting on the edge of the table. "You were on good terms
with Lady Erna Morway, weren't you? The Morway family revealed that Lady Erna is
missing and has been missing for several months. The circumstances of her
disappearance and the fact that they chose to announce it just now are quite
suspicion. It also appears that the Morway household has some reputable record on
that account."

Alleria staggered a few steps back. Her first thought was that Johannes had killed
her - but that couldn't be right. She had no doubt about the exorcist's ability to
be cruel, but Lady Morway was no demon - was it Dagen then? For the incident with
the bell?

Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Morway could've just taken off, perhaps because
Alleria now knew who her lover was? Though, something inside her told her that Lady
Morway had not chosen her particular fate.

And then it hit her.

"Excuse me, Tinpoint, I have to go... check on something..." Alleria mumbled,

walking from the dinning room, through

the lounge and to her bedroom. Cassel was there, as he often was, sitting by the
window and staring outside.

He looked at her when she entered, but didn't rise to greet her as he normally
would. Something was odd about his expression.

"Cassel, did you have anything to do with Lady Erna Morway's disappearance?" Blunt
and to the point, if she didn't ask it this way, she would have begun doubting
herself.

Cassel stared at her for a long time and finally nodded.

She opened her mouth to speak and was left without words to say. She swallowed a
particularly large lump in her throat. "Did you... did you kill her?"

He shrugged. "She was alive last I saw."

"Last you saw?" Alleria's voice was high and strained. She wondered if Tinpoint
could hear her from the other room.

"It's got nothing to do with you," he snapped. "You don't know what they've
done..."

"Of course I wouldn't know if you wouldn't tell me, Cassel. But this has got -"

Cassel rose to his feet. His face was very pale, his green eyes looking large in
his face. "More importantly, 'Leria, you have to take it back."

"Take it..."

Cassel angrily ruffled his hair with both hands, nearly leaping over his own feet
as he stomped the floor in frustration. "I didn't hurt her, I didn't kill her. But
someone will pay and someone will die. A life for a life. That's what ghosts do,
you see? They get revenge. But not anymore. I can't anymore. I don't want this. I
love you but I'm hurting you. I hate that. I hate not being alive. You have to take
it back."

There was a feeling at the pit of her stomach

as if the room was tilting slightly. "You want me to take back my Presence?"

He grasped both of her shoulders, his gaze piercing into hers. He kissed her
forehead quickly and pulled away. "Don't leave anything. Take it all away. Every
last drop until I," -his eyes shone brightly as they filled with tears -"Until I
forget you."

"What?"

He gave her a little shake. "You have to, please, 'Leria, I'm slipping. Something's
pushing, something's pulling and I can't hold on. I'll fall back in there and go
back to her and then she'll have too much of you. They'll make you become what you
shouldn't become. They'll make it sound like a good thing, as if it's for the best
of the whole world. But they're wrong. Because you have to be you until the end.
You belong here, you're not their tool."

"Cassel, I can't."

"Please!" It wasn't the first time she had seen him crying, but the magnitude of
his desperation was new. It was sharp and raw, shaping every part of his face and
body. His breathing was harsh, his fingers dug into her shoulders. It hurt a
little, he held her too tightly and she knew she would bruise, but somehow her mind
didn't register that. All she saw was the despair, the utter and bottomless despair
on his face. "She takes everything away, your memories, your name, your thoughts
and dreams, everything you've ever felt... But what I feel for you is mine, I won't
let her take it, I want you to take it."

She brought her hands up to his face and cupped both his cheeks as she looked into
his eyes. At least, she could take

back some of her Presence. She would need more. She looked inside him, he was
brimming with the light and could barely contain it. He hadn't used any of her
Presence for himself, he had kept it safe.

There was still something strange in the background, like another person standing
behind a half-closed door. Like she had done on the night in the gazebo, she opened
herself a fraction and set herself to connect with Cassel.

Something knocked her back hard. Alleria blinked, she was on the floor, there was
someone standing over her, a short, bald man with pudgy hands and watery eyes.
Cassel still stood, but his back was pressed against the wall and he wore an
expression of horror when he looked at something over her shoulder.

"This has gone on for long enough," Mr. Minsuit said.

Alleria rose to her feet, looking behind her. In the doorway stood a woman she
didn't recognise. She was middle-aged and thin, with cropped hair that had been
dyed red and wearing a smart black jacket and a long black dress that brushed the
floor hiding her feet from sight. She looked on to the room with a calculating
expression.

"What's going on here?" Alleria asked, turning back to look at Minsuit. "How did
you get in?"

"What's important is that we're here and just in time." Minsuit blew out his cheeks
and turned to look at Cassel. "You need to relinquish control."

"You're going to send me back like this?" Cassel demanded. He didn't look
frightened, all Alleria saw on his face was surprise and outrage. "I thought you
were trying to help -"

Minsuit thrust out his palm in the air, Cassel let out a long gasp. "Begone,
wayward spirit," commanded the occultist.

"WAIT!" Alleria cried.

But it was too late. Cassel's features blurred and he spread out like mist. There
was a moment where the pale ghost of his features was visible, hanging in the air
before he was sucked backwards, melting away into the wall.

And when he was gone, there was a person standing in his stead. A pale-faced boy
his age with dark hair and dark eyes.

Willum fell to his hands and knees and began to sob.

A/N - Were you expecting that? I know most of you are rooting for Dagen (as I made
plainly obvious for you to do) but what are your thoughts about Cassel? And what do
you think is happening here? What was he talking about?

=================

Chapter 36 - Neat Little Box

Chapter 36 - Neat Little Box

Minsuit turned to Alleria looking as nonchalant as always, he spared no glance to

Willum's shaking, silently sobbing form on the floor. "Exorcists break their souls
leaving them vulnerable, inviting things to enter. Although I've never heard of a
possession that went on for so long."

A strange high-pitched sound, like the wailing of the wind inside the old chimneys
of the tower rang in her ears. It took Alleria a moment to realise that it was she
who was making that noise. All her memories of the past months flashed through her
mind with the illusion lifted. Those moments, all those intimate moments she had
thought she shared with Cassel were in fact with someone else.

It was an intrusion through her very heart. A feeling of disgust crept over her
skin. She clasped her hand over her mouth. She was going to be sick, she was going
to be sick. She ran the short distance to a nearby vase, emptying the content of
her stomach into it.

She sucked in air through her nose, calming the nausea. She slowly turned back to
face Minsuit and when she finally could speak again, words blazed off her tongue.
"You let him take my Presence. I was about to take it back, and you sent him away
with it."

"You couldn't have taken it back. Had you touched your mind to his, he would have
stolen the rest that's kept safe from his grasp." Minsuit's voice was calm and
level, reasonable. Explaining the intricate workings of both planes to a child. A
bright, special child, but nevertheless just a child.

She could tell he was lying, but

he didn't have to know that.

"You knew?" she hissed. "Cassel had possessed Willum's body, had stayed here with
me for months, and you know all along and allowed it to happen?"

"We do not interfere with -" Minsuit began

"Shut up!" Alleria cried. "I wasn't speaking with you." She turned her fiercest
glare at the woman standing in the doorway. "I was speaking to Irene. How could you
do this to your own son?"

Alleria didn't need introductions, it was clear by her face and the slight
resemblance who the woman was. Irene's expression remained blank, her eyes merely
flickered from Minsuit to Alleria.

"Oh right, how could I forget, you don't speak with your lunch."

"She cannot converse with you," Minsuit intervened, completely unfazed by Alleria's
outburst. "Too many processes will be broken if she does."

"Then why is she here?" Alleria asked, stepping in between Minsuit and Willum. That
was her safest guess. Irene would be interested in retrieving her son but she would
not let Willum go. He was the only one who knew - or could understand - where
Cassel was and how she could rescue him.

And he was an exorcist.

To her surprise, Minsuit took a step back. "She's here to protect me. We have
calculated that given your current emotional fragility and the extent of the
demonic transformation you have already undergone, there was a high probability
that ...you would have killed me."

The way he said it, in the same logical tone she and Tinpoint used to discuss a
particularly complex mathematical problem made the sick feeling in her stomach
intensify.

Alleria fixed Minsuit with a long, quiet stare as the shadows in the room seemed to
gather at her feet. To his credit, he only flinched a little. There were many
people in the world who got in her way, many people who wished her harm. Her list
of enemies seemed to multiply every time she blinked. But she had never entertained
the idea of killing someone, she had never wished it.

To steal the fire from their eyes, to render their bodies into lifeless meat - she
just couldn't see the point.

Irene's calculations were wrong, Minsuit wasn't at risk. What else did the
occultists fail to see?

"Get out of my sight," she said in a level voice that rang loud and clear. And thus
they were dismissed from her presence.

Minsuit had the audacity to bow his head and say, "I will be seeing you again, Miss
Bellencreek."

But she didn't respond with anything aside from narrowing her eyes into a glare.
Just as they were leaving, Tinpoint stumbled inside, walking for some reason on the
tips of his toes. He hovered in the doorway between the lounge and the bedroom,
mouthing questions at Alleria and pointing his thumb at the two that had left.

"Never-mind them," Alleria said once Minsuit and Irene were gone. "Help me lift him
to the couch."

She crouched down by Willum's side and her insides seemed to go rigid with
discomfort. To have been intimate with someone other than the person she had chosen
to be, she couldn't even explain to herself the extent of how wrong that felt. She
hesitated a moment before reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He shied away from

her touch - how aware was he when Cassel possessed him? Did he know what was
happening? Did he remember?

Tinpoint approached, bending over to examine Willum. "Who is he?"

"He's.... He's Willum Malluri."

Tinpoint gasped. "Malluri? Alesso Malluri's son?"

Alleria looked up to see him gaping. "Don't tell anyone."

"I've got no one to tell even if I wanted to."

"Not even Gina."

Tinpoint's mouth closed with a snap. He bend down and prodded him with his finger.
Willum had stopped shaking, but he continued to lie curled on the floor. "What's
happened to him?"

"I'm... I'm not sure," Alleria lied. "I think he may be drunk or something worse
and I don't know the whole story but he's had a terrible fight with his mother."

"That woman just now..."

Alleria nodded in affirmation.

"But that man wasn't Alesso Malluri. From what I recall he's quite a tall person."
"No, that was Mr. Minsuit, Mr. Malluri's solicitor. I've told you, I don't fully
know what it's about, but Willum doesn't have many friends he can turn to..."

Tinpoint nodded sticking the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he contemplated
her words. He concluded everything with a shrug. "Well, let's get this wee man onto
the couch."

Alleria bit her lip and grabbed one arm, Tinpoint grabbed another.

Willum was certainly no 'wee man'. After an impossibly difficult series of pulling,
pushing, shoving and grunting, they managed to drag him over to the lounge and dump
him into one of the couches. He was in a state of semi-consciousness, rolling into
a ball the moment they let him go.

Tinpoint took

a step back, ruffling his mane of curls and bouncing on the balls of his feet as he
wondered what else to do.

"Thank you, Mr. Tinpoint. I think it would be good if you took the rest of the day
off."

He nodded. What neither of them said was that they weren't making any progress
anyway.

It would have just been another day of staring at numbers and seeing no solution to
their problems.

***

Willum's breathing changed. He released a long sigh and his eyelids flickered
before he blinked at the room without moving a muscle. Alleria, curled in the
overstuffed armchair by his side, turned a page in the book she had been reading
and pretended not to pay him any attention. At some point during the day, he had
stumbled into an exhausted sleep.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and rose into a sitting position, giving her a
wary look. She gestured at a glass of water on the coffee table. He picked it up
and drank it.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Alleria closed the book shut and put it
down. In one of Zalee's books she had managed to despiser enough to read about
exorcists becoming possessed. While the remaining 'spirit' of the overwhelming
majority of human beings who died could not resist the temptation of falling in
among the Many, some spirits lingered on in the formed plane, becoming ghosts.

"But someone will pay and someone will die. A life for a life. That's what ghosts
do, you see?"

It was these very ghosts who were capable of possessing exorcists, until the price
had been paid and then they'd be compelled to move on among the Many like the rest.

"You

shouldn't have let your guard down," Alleria said quietly. Willum blinked at her.

"He's really gone?" he asked hoarsely.

She nearly shuddered at the sound of his voice. Willum had cared about Cassel. As
much as Cassel had hurt him over the years, had used and betrayed him, Willum still
cared.

The was nothing to say, the truth was plain and simple.

His forehead scrunched and he let his face fall into his hands as he surrendered to
his tears. Alleria sat very still as her own warm tears ran down her face. Earlier
that day she had helped herself to her own bout of uncontrollable weeping. Now, she
had been quite sure that she was in control of her grief, so it was terribly
inconvenient to remember that her heart still felt like it was bleeding.

It was as if Cassel had died all over again. But there was an added finality to it
- she knew that he would never be seen in this plane again.

But he was still somewhere in the other plane, and as long as that thought
remained, there was a silver of hope that she could meet him again.

Alleria handed Willum a clean handkerchief and wiped away her own tears with her
already-tear-soaked one.

"How much do you remember?" she asked when she deemed it safe.

His face reddened and he avoided her eye, that was enough of an answer but he
seemed to make an effort to speak anyway. "His every thought and feeling, I
remember everything as if it were me. But now that I'm me again, I can see clearly,
because Cassel and I... couldn't be more different." A look of disappointment
seemed to pass over his face, but Alleria couldn't be sure

if she was reading too much into it. Would have Willum preferred to be Cassel?

She scratched the side of her nose. "Do you still think Cassel was taking me for a
fool?"

Willum shook his head. "At first, yes. When he met you at my father's house. He
thought you would simply give him your Presence and he'd take it back to the
Authora and be rewarded for it."

Alleria was taken aback, but she still had to know more. "And then?"

Willum looked broodily to the floor. He wrinkled his noise as if something smelt
bad. "He became obsessed with you. He liked the way you moved, it reminded him of a
bird with little jerky but fluid movements. He liked how your eyes were so focused
when you read that the world seemed to melt away. Being with you, looking at you,
made him feel happier than he had ever felt in his entire existence." The last
sentence was laced with unmistakable disgust. "He became afraid of going back to
the Authora, he wanted to keep you to himself."

She felt as if her heart had skipped several beats and had to catch her breath so
she would not start crying again. Of course Willum was referring to those months
when she had studied at the seminary and Cassel had walked her home every single
day. Those had been Cassel's thoughts while she had crammed her head full of
information. That innocent past was so far away, but the longing to be there and
then again seized her.

She wiped away a few stray tears that managed to escape her eyes and struggled to
compose herself. "So Minsuit was lying...."

Willum shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, the last hours are too blurry.
Cassel was already falling away. I don't remember his thoughts clearly."

"Do you think she has him now?"

"I don't know..." He gave her a pitying look, but something he saw in her face made
him sigh. "Probably. She probably does."

They stayed in silence for over an hour, frozen in thought as the clock ticked
away. Alleria got up and made them tea, bringing over a tin of biscuits which they
both munched silently. "Where will you go now, Willum?" she asked. It was none of
her business, but she had to know anyway.

"I can't go back to my mother," he said bitterly. Was there anything Willum wasn't
bitter about? "I've been touched by demons, she won't want me around now. I'll
bother with her processes."

Alleria nodded. There was so much about the occult arts she didn't know. She would
have given almost anything to understand what Irene was up to. "What about your
father?"

"My father would prefer to have a different son, one that isn't me." Willum's voice
was so poisonous that Alleria straightened in her armchair, fixing him with a
searching look. More than anything, Mr. Malluri seemed broken about Willum leaving.

"I assume he told you why he decided to become your patron?"

She nodded. "But..." she said thoughtfully, "do you really think he cares that
you're an exorcist?"

Willum's eyes widened to perfect circles and he stared at her with his mouth
slightly agape before he burst into laughter. But since this was Willum, even his
laugh seemed cynical and strained. "That's what you think happened? I guess he
didn't tell you

everything after all." He leaned over the arm of the couch and grabbed her hand in
both of his.

"You know, if we marry, that would really solve the problem. My father wouldn't
care if either of us were happy only that everything was arranged and orderly.
Society loves to fit us into neat little boxes, money makes these boxes very
rigid."

Alleria pulled her hand away. Whatever joke Willum was trying to pull wasn't the
least bit funny. "I have no intention of marrying, arranged or not. And wouldn't
you rather marry someone you loved?"

Willum's expression became so bleak at her words all light seemed to be sucked out
of the room. "That would be impossible in the Empire."

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're so dense."

"I'm not in the mood for riddles, Willum, if you want to tell me, just be out with
it and tell me."

"Fine," he snapped. He drew in a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. "I'm not
physically attracted to women."
"Oh?"

He snorted, glaring at her. "I prefer the company of men. I'm a person who is
sexually attracted to his own gender, I believe the condition's called
homosexuality."

Alleria's eyebrows climbed high. She mentally checked herself, fixing her hands
neatly in her lap. This new information shed a light over so many things. "I see."
She cleared her throat. Well, she hadn't seen that coming.

But it must've taken Willum courage to tell her. "I... Thank you for telling me,
Willum," she said quietly.

He continued to stare at her as if expecting something more.

"Were... were you in love with Cassel?" she asked.

He shot up to his feet at her question and turned his back to her. She let her gaze
drop to the floor.

"That... must've been difficult for you."

He bowed his head. They shared an awkward silence. "I think I don't have much of a
choice but to go see my father again," he finally said. "It's not like I have any
funds to set out on my own."

"I think he misses you." She thought that maybe she crossed a line by saying those
words and that Willum would leave in a huff.

He was silent for a long moment, but then he looked over his shoulder and there was
a small smile on his lips, the kind of smile she had never seen him wear. "For the
record, Alleria," he said, "I was serious about my offer. You don't have to answer
right away. You can take a few years to think it over. I believe it could benefit
us both."

Alleria opened her mouth to say that she had been equally serious about her
rejection, though something stopped it. "I'll think it over one of these days," she
replied.

"Well then, I should be going..." He headed toward the door, radiating an air of
embarrassment.

"Willum, wait."

He turned around to look at her questioningly.

"I need you to help me with the algorithm."

=================

Chapter 37 - To Fail Spectacularly

Chapter 37 - To Fail Spectacularly

"Johannes was right," Willum had said. "There are no methods. There's just
instinct."

It was a hot summer's evening in the midst of July. The tall windows of the dinning
room were wide open, though even with all the paper hanging on the walls and spread
across the table, nothing made so much as a rustle for there was no breeze.
Tinpoint had fallen asleep with his face mashed over some random equations he had
been tinkering with. Alleria watched with determined boredom how his drool made the
ink blot on the paper, staining his face blue.

"It's as if everything is controlled by blind luck," Willum had continued, making

Alleria's despair grow.

Alleria picked up her pen and dipped it in ink, turning back to the page she had
been writing. The past months she had tried every possible manipulation of the
algorithm they had, including trying to repeat the mistake that had caused her to
receive a correct result all those months ago. It was boring and frustrating,
though she had long given up on the fear of losing everything. The events of this
past year had left her feeling numb, whatever would happen, she would just accept
it.

"But there's one thing he didn't tell you," Willum had added with an afterthought.
"If you shine your Presence on a problem, it will become illuminated."

Alleria had tried, and tried, and tried just that. Though nothing changed, nothing
came to her. Shine as her Presence might, the algorithm remained dull and
indifferent. She put down the pen and got up, straightening

her robe. She left Tinpoint sleeping and went to her bedroom to wash the ink from
her hands and sort out her hair and make-up. She had to attend dinner in Arbaro
Palace again, though the closer Year Day came, the harder it was to show her face.
Her name was mentioned in the newspapers every other day, but it was more as a joke
and a slight than anything else. No one, including herself, believed that she'd
actually be able to solve the problem.

She slipped into her usual seat at the high table, feeling how everything about her
grew stony and cold. Her eyes, she knew, would look dead and empty. If she radiated
anything, it was isolation. Lady Freya turned to look at her through her large
spectacles, her expression impossible to read and as usual she said nothing.

Alleria and Dagen hadn't spoken since the night they had faced Johannes. It was her
fault, she had avoided him to a point where he was wary of approaching her. She
wished now she hadn't been so harsh with him. Looking back to all their
interactions, she had always felt invigorated after talking to him. He sent her a
look from afar but she couldn't meet his eye, worried he'd see her regret.

It was no matter anyway. Quite soon, she was going to stop being the Fifth
Paramount. It would be lucky if she would even be allowed to remain as a scholar.

It was no matter, no matter, no matter.

Even if it felt like the end of the world, it wasn't. She had tried her best, but
failed and that was all. She'd be able to go back and live with her parents, return
to the countryside, become an apprentice, disappear forever.

Dinner

was over, but she couldn't remember having eaten anything. Food tasted dull anyway.
It had been a long time since she had felt any type of hunger aside from wishing
for Cassel's easy company once more.
Last time she had cried about him had been, what? Six days ago? Almost a week. At
least that was an achievement.

Maybe she was finally over it.

She was stomping her way back to the tower after dinner. Ah, her mind had wandered.
She couldn't recall finishing dinner or getting up. The heel of her sandal sank
into the soft grass, her ankle twisted slightly and she fell on her bum. She sat
still for a moment. Her sandal had come off, she picked it up and examined it, the
strap had broken.

Damn sandal!

She fought against the sting of tears in her eyes. Behind her, she could hear the
rustling of someone marching across the lawn in her direction. She pulled off the
other sandal and struggled to rise to her feet, the whole time focusing her gaze
somewhere far off to keep her tears from falling.

"Alleria," Dagen's voice said behind her. He sounded determined and angry. How long
had it been since she last heard him say her name?

His voice seemed to force a wave of emotion to rise out of her heart and she did
her best to stifle a sob as her eyes streamed, tears wetting her cheeks.

"Alleria," he said again, but this time, he sounded worried and sad.

She threw down the sandal she had been holding and pressed the back of her hand to
her eyes. "I'm fine," she hissed.

"Of course you are," he said slowly.

"You can go on ahead."

"Alleria -"

"Please leave

me alone."

He didn't reply. She heard him release an irritated sigh and then the rustling of
the grass as he walked around her to continue on his way to the tower.

He stopped somewhere in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said.

What was he sorry about? He hesitated for a moment before moving. She was almost in
control over her tears, but why did she want to ask him to stay?

She wouldn't, it was just foolishness. Even geniuses were fools - at least she knew
that now.

Suddenly, strong arms surrounded her, she was pulled into an embrace and too
surprised to do anything about it. Dagen passed his hand through her hair, pressing
her head to his chest. She could hear the quick beat of his heart and could smell
the fresh scent of deep forests, wild earth and dark green things that always
seemed come from him.

She stiffened at first, but didn't move. She stayed caught in his arms, and
gradually, the warmth of his body and the summer night made her relax. Her hand
came up and she caught a handful of his shirt, drawing herself closer against him.

"You've been avoiding me," he said into her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She felt calm, but her heart was beating so fast she
could hear its rapid tattoo in her ears. "I... I'm not fine."

"I know."

Nothing more was said. Dagen's hand wandered down from her hair to her upper back,
his fingers slowly stroking the back of her neck. She bumped the top of her head
against his chin. Every moment she continued to cling to him, she longed for him to
continue to hold her.

This warmth chased away the

emptiness, soothing the bite of failure. Caught in the spirit of desire, she pulled
away slightly to slide her arm over his shoulder. Lifting her head up, she kissed
him.

His lips were soft but with the slightest coarseness of stubble. He seemed passive
at first, was he surprised by her sudden daring? Finally, his mouth parted slowly.

She pressed against him, deepening the kiss, her tongue touching his. She felt
nothing but the racing of her heart and a burning need to be close - closer - to
him. He kissed differently from Cassel, he tasted different, everything about him
was shaped and coloured differently.

He pulled away, not just from her lips, but with his whole body, cupping her face
in his hands. He was breathless, they were both breathless. He smiled at her and
kissed her forehead.

"Salem, will you," she said, "keep me company tonight?"

He gave her a long and serious look, scanning her face and then shook his head. He
took a big step back, his hands falling to his sides. "Not like this, Alleria. I
hope you'll come to me someday. But not like this. I won't be the one to fill a
void, I deserve to have an entire part of you to myself."

She disliked his answer but... she understood. At least a part of her did. She was
a mess, but still, she wasn't stupid. She turned her head away, feeling suddenly
embarrassed and unable to meet his gaze. Was he disgusted? Was he insulted?

"I'm going to regret this soon," he said with a smile in his voice. She bent over
to pick up her sandals. "Probably tomorrow morning when I wake up in pain. Why are
human men such simple creatures?"

"I

wouldn't know anything about real human men," she replied quietly. But whatever he
had been trying to do seemed to be working, she didn't feel as awkward as she did a
moment ago.

"Well, you can't walk all the way to the tower barefoot, shall I carry you, my
lady?"

Alleria finally looked at him, his smile was wide and illuminated his face. It was
also a completely strained smile, one he was putting on just for her. She smirked -
she would play along. "You certainly know how to torment me, my lord," she said
with mock meekness. "But for a spectacular misfit such as myself," she allowed
enough of Ulundine to seep through, making the shadowy night grow darker and her
feet separated from the ground. "Shoed or barefoot, it matters not."

Dagen attempted to lighten the mood between them the whole way to the tower. It was
easier not to feel hurt and sad when she was mixed with her demon like this. It was
as if her pain was solely part of her human side.

In the tower she reaffirmed this by becoming completely Alleria again, feeling how
the grief instantly intensified. Dagen decided that it was his job to walk her all
the way up to her flat.

They stopped at her door and looked at each other. Alleria felt her face flush. Now
she felt how her senses reasserted themselves.

He noticed her expression and sighed, reaching over to pat her head.

"I'm sorry, Salem," she said, tucking down her chin.

"I'm not sorry," he said, "even if you are."

"I'm not -" The door of the flat burst open suddenly and Alleria jumped aside to
avoid it hitting her. Tinpoint charged out clutching in his fingers a wrinkled
paper.

There was still ink all over his face, his curly hair stood up on one side of his
head, his skin was chalk-pale and his eyes were wild. He blinked at Dagen before
spotting her. "BELLENCREEK!" he bellowed hopping from one foot to the other and
waving the paper in the air. "BELLENCREEK!"

Alleria moved away from him. Tinpoint had finally gone over the edge and lost it.
Dagen took a step by her side to shield her from her academic assistant.

"I'm right here," Alleria hooted.

Tinpoint swallowed and nodded. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. He thrust
forward the paper he was holding. Dagen took it and passed it to Alleria. She
looked it over. It was the copy of the algorithm she had written down just before
going to dinner.

"You did it," Tinpoint whispered.

"What?"

"YOU DID IT!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoed down the tower.
Below stairs, Alleria could hear doors opening and people running up the spiralling
stairs to see what the commotion about. "You solved it. It's complete. The bloody
algorithm is fucking perfect!"

A/N - Dedicated to all you Allegen or Dageria people..... ^_~

=================
Chapter 38 - One Step Into Doom

Chapter 38 - One Step Into Doom

Ever since the dining room had been transformed into the algorithm research room,
it was a constantly disorganised space. Now, however, it looked as if it were the
sight of a tornado, though instead of wind, every possible spot was scribbled with
Tinpoint's hasty calculations which he had written so swiftly not much sense could
be made of them. But he had circled the results multiple times.

Alleria's eyes danced from the green-boards, to the sheets of papers on the wall
where Tinpoint had written round the edges of the equations on display, to the
piles of yearly journals that were scattered open all over the room. "You did all
this while I was at dinner?" was the first thing that occurred to her to ask.

"Well, you were gone and I woke up, and I...." Tinpoint paused in his excitement to
take a deep breath. He raised his palm in front of his face, as if signalling for
Alleria to wait. "This may sound... freakish to you..."

She exchanged a glance with Dagen who had just come to stand in the doorway after
dispensing the excited crowd that had formed outside Alleria's flat. He surveyed
the scene with a grim expression.

Alleria looked back at Tinpoint. "I know my way around 'freakish', Mr. Tinpoint."

Tinpoint nodded to himself. "So... that paper," - he pointed to the algorithm

clutched in her hand - "called to me."

"Called to you?"

"More specifically, it said my name."

Alleria's eyebrows shot up. That was freakish.

"I may have been half-dreaming," Tinpoint said defensively, probably due to the
look

that Alleria was giving him. "The point is," - he waved his arms at the room around
them - "I tried it on seven past years already, seven, and the result was accurate
down to the very minute and according to that I also added the coordinations of
where the eclipse will be seen in the world."

"Seven isn't enough," Alleria said, although she knew inside of her that Tinpoint
was right. This was the only algorithm that could ever accurately tell the length
of the year. "We have to test more."

"Right, right," Tinpoint said, reaching out for the nearest book.

"And then we have to hide it," she continued.

He stopped dead, looking up at her in confusion. "Hide it?"

"We have to pile upon it as much meaningless rubbish as we could so that no one
will be able to recognise these equations. It will only take us about three months
or so, so we'll have plenty of time before the Half-year."

From the doorway, she heard Dagen breathe out a sigh of relief. Did he really think
she'd hand in the algorithm like this? All that talk about how people shouldn't
underestimate her and here he was, underestimating. Not only id current algorithm
in use consist of eight long volumes and this one filled perhaps eight pages, but
if anyone knew there was occult involved, both she and Tinpoint would be dead. The
law was the law.

Tinpoint straightened his back and gave her a long look. He nodded and dug his
hands into his back pockets as he tilted his head from side to side to look from
her to one of the green-boards and then back to her again. "I understand the
gravity of

the situation, Bellencreek," he said in a choked whisper. "I understand why we need
to do it this way, but we don't have till half-year. You're extremely perceptive,
Bellencreek, but you've overlooked something vital." He pointed at the green-board.

She slowly stepped up to it. "You ran the algorithm on the current year..." she
said quietly. Her eyes scanned his handiwork, his writing was a mess, but his
method was as meticulous and organised as always. She looked at the result and
clutched her chest.

Her knees felt weak and she found it difficult to breathe. Year Day was supposedly
three days away, that's what everyone believed, but according to the results, this
prediction was wrong by nearly two and a half months. The empire was only now
staggering out of an economical depressions and some economies round the world were
still in the trenches. All that was needed was another good year and perhaps the
Empire would be on the right track.

But this, this was worse than anything before. This kind of change had the
potential of making powerful empires crumble to dust. "Prices are still very low
from the deflation, you know," Tinpoint said, in case Alleria had missed the
severity. "People won't be getting wages, no one will know how to ration the
medicine and food stores and the uncertainty will drive the whole world into
insanity. Bellencreek, I don't care much for people, I rather like having my head
connected to the rest of my body, but this is..."

Alleria stumbled a few steps towards the table and collapsed into one of the
chairs, letting her head drop into her hands. "You

understand, Mr. Tinpoint that if, only if, we manage to convince them that this
algorithm is what it is, then they'll take it, and use it, and while everyone is
celebrating, we'll be in prison waiting our death sentence?"

"That's only if these equations are recognised as occult."

She looked up at him, her hair falling across her face but she didn't move it away.
"And what are the chances of that not happening?"

"Don't do it," Dagen intervened from the doorway. His tone was severe and when she
looked at his face she was surprised to see his brown eyes filled with rage. "Don't
become martyrs. Don't sacrifice yourself, Alleria. Let them rot in their own
ignorance, come to them as a saviour, not a victim."

"That's easy for you to say," she answered, her tone low. "You've grown with
nothing but wealth and abundance, everything in your life was wrapped in silk and
served on silver. But whenever the world is unhinged, it's the ordinary people, my
people that suffer most."

He pursed his lips together so tightly they turned white and breathed through his
nose. What was he angry at? Who was he angry at? "Alleria, don't make this about
you."
She jumped to her feet. "Tinpoint, run the algorithm again on this year and then on
as many years as you can," she called as she trudged towards the other door that
led from the dining room directly to her study. She grabbed her black phone book
and leafed through the pages. Dagen stormed into the study after her, closing the
door behind him. She extended her hand and made to lift the receiver of the
telephone

but Dagen placed his palm over hers, stopping her.

"Please, Alleria, please reconsider," he pleaded.

"Do you think there's anything to consider?" she snapped.

"Don't you see it's a trap?"

Alleria stared at him, what kind of trap and who was trapping her - and for what?
There was only one face that came to mind. "How is this a trap?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words died on his tongue.

"Another thing you can't tell me if I don't already know?" Alleria shook her head
and slid Dagen's hand off. "But I think I know," she went on in a quiet voice.

She looked into his eyes. Amidst the rage, she could detect sadness.

"With all fairness," he said. "You don't have to walk into every trap that's placed
before you. It's a terrible habit."

"It's too late." She picked up the receiver and dialled the number written in her
phonebook.

"Hullo?" answered a woman's voice.

Using the telephone was such a simple thing these days, it required barely any
effort. "This is Scholar Alleria Bellencreek speaking, I need to speak urgently
with Mr. Maddox Barnel."

"It's eleven-bloody-thirty in the night!" the woman said irritably.

"I know it's late, miss," Alleria answered as calmly as she could. "But as I said,
this matter is urgent. I must speak with Mr. Barnel at once."

"Urgent this, urgent that, always urgent. Every little bloke and chit think every
silly matter's urgent. You know my husband is a busy man, with real duties to
attend to, Owl's feathers, he doesn't have time to babysit the whole world, the man
needs to sleep

on occasion!"At some point, Barnel's wife began speaking dialect. The lilting
accent, the rising and falling tones and particular phrases indicated that this
woman had come from an area near Alleria's village.

"Aye, auntie, I'm very sorry about the time," Alleria replied in dialect - how
easier it was to speak this way than using city-talk. "This is about the
calendrical algorithm, there's been a grave mistake, please, I must speak with
Barnel."

There was shocked silence on the line, Dagen gave Alleria an odd look. She felt her
face flush, this was the first time he had heard her speak dialect and she knew for
certain that he understood less than half of what she just said.

"Who did you say you were?" Barnel's wife finally asked.

"Bellencreek, I'm Scholar Bellencreek, auntie."

"Oh, bless you, you're that lovely girl!" The woman's tone completely changed, she
sounded delighted. "You should've said so sooner, you're not like them, I'm sure
you've got a real reason to be a-calling. I'll go wake Maddy, just wait on the
line, dear."

"Did you just call Barnel's wife 'auntie'?" Dagen asked as they waited for Barnel
to come to the phone.

"Every woman above a certain age is 'auntie' in the country," Alleria said, still
in dialect.

"Come again?"

She opened her mouth to repeat herself, this time in a way he could understand but
just then the groggy voice of Maddox Barnel rang through the telephone. It was a
lot easier than she had anticipated. "I solved it," she said, "and this year is off
by nearly two and a half months."

That

was all she needed. Unlike some people, Barnel took her seriously.

***

The night was black as the road to Barnel's home stretched on. Alleria clutched the
leather folder that contained the algorithm - copied onto a clean sheet of paper.
Tinpoint in the seat next to her clutched a cardboard box filled with any possible
book they would need to prove their point. No one spoke, but the driver that Barnel
sent started whistling a cheerful tune to alleviate the tense atmosphere.

"I'm coming with you," Dagen had said just before they left.

"No, Salem, you stay out of this." A dry summer's wind picked up throwing her hair
into her eyes. The air was heavy with the feeling of an approaching storm. "If you
come, it won't change anything aside from putting you at risk as well."

She had been right, of course, about telling him not to come, but still in that
moment of apprehension she felt alone. She looked at her academic assistant, he was
tapping his fist over his heart and mumbling to himself. Poor Mr. Tinpoint. He was
a good man, undeserving of such a bad fate.

"Do the heroes in stories feel this way too?" he asked out of the blue.

"Which way?"

"I want to jump out of the car right now. Most of me doesn't want to save the world
from chaos. There's just a very, very small part of me that's bullying the rest of
me into doing what's right."

"The heroes in the stories sounded more self-assured than that," Alleria said
drily.

Tinpoint nodded.
"But I guess it's because they weren't real people. I wouldn't know much about
being a hero

myself, in all the stories, the heroes were men."

"Lavasana was a woman," Tinpoint offered and chuckled. "Of course, it's all her
fault we're in the mess we're in right now. If only she hadn't been so touchy about
occult and magic."

Alleria was amazed how he could still find the ability to laugh at a moment like
this. "I wonder who she really was," she said. "Are you religious?"

Tinpoint shrugged in reply. "Not really, but I read the Book sometimes, when I'm
feeling down." He smiled at Alleria's bemused expression. "It's the poetry of it,
there's an aesthetic that's so precise it's almost mathematical. It relaxes my mind
and helps me think."

She stared at him for a long time. It had been so hard finding an academic
assistant, she didn't really have much to choose from, but she was glad it was
Tinpoint. He was crazy, but exactly the type of crazy that fit. "I hope we somehow
live through this," she said.

Barnel lived in Callivar in the same neighbourhood as Mr. Malluri. Though unlike
the Malluri mansion, Barnel's was a sensible two-story house made of red brick.
There was a gravel driveway behind the gate and a path that appeared to lead to a
back garden, but aside from it being in the very centre of the city, it was not
unlike the house Alleria had lived in with her parents in the countryside.

Barnel's wife, Renda, marched over to greet them. She was still wearing her
dressing robe and slippers and there were curlers in her platinum-blond hair. She
thanked the driver graciously and escorted them into the house, apologising
repeatedly about their previous conversation.

"Lord

Sanstun is here already as well is Mr. Hixmark, we couldn't seem to reach the rest
of the board of scholars. But Lord Rimmley, Lord Talibret and Mr. Westbrook are
here on behalf of the imperial bureaucracy," Renda chatted happily. "Watch out for
Rimmley, he doesn't like common folks, sees us as sheep."

"I think I know the type," Alleria said, her fingers tightening over the binder she
held.

"Don't we all, duckie. In city-speech they're called 'wankers'."

Both Alleria and Tinpoint were surprised enough to snicker. Although it was the
kind of nervous snicker that people emitted on their wits' end.

"My, the photos in the newspaper don't do you justice, lassie," Renda said, patting
her on the back. "You're a fetching young woman. I hope they stop writing all those
terrible things about you in the gossip columns."

Alleria gulped, she wished Renda hadn't said that. While she had no interest in
knowing what was written about her, the thought that anything was written at all
was highly disconcerting.

Barnel's small study was located at the back of the house after the modest living
room. The five men crowded around a big mahogany desk, there was very little
standing space for Alleria and Tinpoint. The only one who wasn't sitting was
Barnel. the other five resembled each other slightly in the fact that their hair
was grey and thinning, their expressions bored and annoyed and they each sported
different degrees of pot-bellies.

She inhaled through her nose and marched to the centre of the room. "Gentlemen, for
those of you who do not know me, I am -"

"We know who you are,

Scholar Bellencreek," said the right-most man with mocking smile that showed
yellowing teeth. He had many whiskers and resembled a walrus.

"Good," she said. She looked at each of the men. They had come here to rain scorn
on her and to watch Barnel blunder. They would not take her seriously. But for this
she had been practicing all year. "Gentlemen, it is with grave urgency that I
present before you the calendrical algorithm."

She placed the leather folder on the desk.

Barnel frowned.

No one said anything, they appeared to be waiting for something to happen. Several
gazes flickered towards Tinpoint who was holding the cardboard box filled with
additional documents and books.

Finally, the leftmost man who appeared to be the thinnest of the group put on a
smile that made his eyes crinkle, pointed at the folder and said, "That's it?"

"That it is, good sir. The first ever, never to be amended, one-hundred percent
accurate calendrical algorithm."

Barnel's frown deepened.

Four out of the five men sitting before her burst into jeering laughter. The
leftmost man was the only one who was examining her attentively.

One of them, second man from the left with long grey hair that fell down to his
stubby chin and a round bald spot on the top of his head pulled the folder towards
him and opened it, leafing through the pages. He closed it with a disgusted snort
and slid it across the table to his colleague. "Woken in the middle of the night
for this kind of tosh. Hasn't this joke gone on long enough, Barnel?"

"I wish it were a joke, Lord Rimmley," Barnel said with a dry sigh, he folded his
hands neatly behind his back.

Alleria drew a deep breath, opened her mouth and said, "The great mathematician
Franq Bessert said that 'only a fool would look at a mathematical formula and
laugh'."

Her words were enough to cause the room to fall into uneasy silence.

"Have you just called us fools, girl?" asked Rimmley.

"I believe Franq Bessert did," the leftmost man intervened with a smile.

The middle man sitting on Rimmley's right turned on the leftmost man with a savage
glare "Lord Sanstun, you're actually defending this -"
"Scholar Bellencreek is the most brilliant mathematician I have encountered in over
twenty years as the head of the Board of Scholars," said Lord Bailey Sanstun. "I
suggest not to dally and to listen to what she has to say."

"Thank you, my lord," Alleria said with a slight curtsey and then turned to remove
the contents of Tinpoint's box. She spread papers over the table. "Words hold no
meaning here, we have proofs, gentlemen. As you can see here, we have tested the
algorithm with several past years, you are welcome to try it yourselves. The
results are accurate down to the very minute of the eclipse. I've called this
meeting because the year will not be ending in three days."

"And when will the year be ending, Miss Bellencreek?" asked Barnel, even though he
knew the answer.

A silly thought struck her just then, if Lady Erna was still alive, she'd finally
get her birthday this year. "On Sol 31st," Alleria replied.

The room exploded as all people present spoke at once.

=================

Chapter 39 - It Has Begun

Chapter 39 - It Has Begun

It was a long night that involved much talking in circles. But the algorithm
offered cold, hard proof that even the biggest skeptics couldn't argue against.

Early in the morning, the meeting was adjourned. The high assembly with the emperor
in attendance would be called, an emergency budget meeting would be conducted, food
and medical stores had to be rationed, and a message to the media was going to be
issued.

That afternoon, a knock at the door woke Alleria and for a moment she couldn't
remember where she was. She had expected to see her room in the High Academy, but
this bedroom was small, the furniture painted white, and everything was shaped
wrong.

"Lerry," said Da through the door, "it's now 14:30, you asked me to wake you. Would
you like me to let you sleep another ten minutes?"

Even though she didn't live with her parents any longer and they had needed to rent
a new flat after the attic flat had been burnt down, her parents still kept a
bedroom for her.

She had missed her parents more than she could measure, and for the first half hour
after arriving at their flat that morning she had done nothing but cling to them.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes, sleeping during the day made her feel ill. "I'm
up," she said hoarsely and crawled to her feet, opening the door.

Mam tiptoed out of the kitchen with a bemused expression. "I've been hammering at
the door for three whole minutes but that man won't wake up. Endry, I don't want to
walk into the guest room. Can you -" she stopped when she saw Alleria, her face
splitting into a

grin. "You're up, darling!"

Alleria smiled. "Mr. Tinpoint sleeps through everything, just try spilling some
water on his face."

Da snorted and walked off to the kitchen probably to do exactly as she suggested.

Mam wouldn't stop fussing over Alleria. Both her parents had taken time off work to
be with her and pamper her. In the past perhaps this behaviour would have been
irritating, but right now she just felt blessed.

And sad beyond words about what was to come.

***

The flashing cameras dazzled her eyes, distorting the sea of top-hats and curious
faces which she saw before her. In Imperia last year there had been a single
reporter, but here in Callivar there was no such restrictions. Barnel stood at her
shoulder, but the podium adorned with differently shaped microphones was right in
front of her. Her voice echoed hallow and metallic throughout the hall. She closed
her mouth tightly after delivering the message.

Outside city hall, pearls of thunder made the windows shudder and the pavement was
hammered by an angry flood of summer rain. Inside the questions were shot at her
like bullets, the reporters in front of her sounding like a swam of bees.

One question shouted by a blond-haired woman in the back somehow sounded over the
rest.

"How did you fix the algorithm, Scholar Bellencreek?"

"I couldn't fix it," she replied, "I constructed a new one."

"Scholar Bellencreek! How did you do that?" asked a man somewhere in the middle.

"I hardly have the time to teach you," she answered with a grin and several of the
reporters shared in the sentiment.

"Scholar Bellencreek! Do you perceive this to be the end of the calendrical

uncertainty?" called a bald man in the front.

"I do indeed. The algorithm is faultless."

"Scholar Bellencreek! Is it true you used occult arts to create the algorithm?"
someone asked, but who exactly that was, Alleria couldn't see. The hall filled with
murmurs as people turned about, searching for the one who dared to raise such a
controversial topic.

She felt the lump rise in her throat, there was a distant ringing in her ears that
had nothing to do with the ever-present music of the demon world. "Of course not,"
she lied through her teeth. "Why would you even ask such a thing?"

Even if she was found out, she would never confess, she would never admit what she
had done. If she denied the truth, there was still the slightest chance that it
would not be held against her. That was her agreement with Tinpoint, that was what
they were going to do.

Barnel shifted across to speak into the microphones on the podium. "That is all.
There will be no further questions."
The reporters responded with an uproar, shouting questions with all their might.
"Scholar Bellencreek! Scholar Bellencreek! Scholar Bellencreek!" her name was
thrown at her and echoed through the hall. Someone began leading Alleria away by
placing a hand on the small of her back - Tinpoint. The crowd shifted ever
slightly, and then she saw the speaker clearly.

A cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

It had begun.

The speaker was Mr. Kempett.

=================

Chapter 40 - Extra! Extra! Read All About it!

Chapter 40 - Extra! Extra! Read All About it!

"SCHOLAR BELLENCREEK SAVES THE WORLD" read the title.

Alleria's parents had bought every single paper that morning, and her face appeared
on the front of each one. She threw the top paper aside and looked at the next:

"THE NEW CALENDRICAL ALGORITHM FOUND TO BE FAULTLESS"

And the next:

"WAGES CONFIRMED FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR. BELLENCREEK ALGORITHM PROVES THE VALUE
OF IMPERIAL BUREAUCRACY"

And the next:

"WONDER-CHILD TO THE RESCUE - TESTING CONCLUDED LAST NIGHT: BELLENCREEK ALGORITHM

PREVAILS"

It was in that particular paper, on the bottom of the front page that another title
caught her attention and made her pause.

THE OCCULT ARTS USED FOR THE BELLENCREEK ALGORITHM: A NASTY RUMOUR OR THE DIRTY
TRUTH?

She released a breath and turned to the page of the appropriate article.

Mr. Kempett at the press conference yesterday had planted the seed, it was a
question of hours before the truth came out.

In the living room, someone turned on the radio and exactly then, a knock came at
the door. Her heart filling with a sudden feeling of foreboding, Alleria continued
to read the article without moving a muscle. She heard Mam's voice greet someone,
but this flat was too big and the radio was too loud, she couldn't hear what the
man at the door said in reply.

Mam rushed into the kitchen with a nervous smile, Alleria noticed that her face was
a little bit pale. "There's a..."

She blushed and swallowed, batting her eyes. "A nobleman here to see you."
"Salem?" The word escaped her lips and she threw down the newspaper. It hit the
kitchen table and fell to the floor.

Before she could rush out to meet him, Mam caught her arm. "He's a handsome boy
but... a bit older than you, dear... though I'm sure you know what you're doing."

Alleria took the time to look Mam over. There was a certain sparkle in her eyes,
and she held back a sigh. It was the first time a young man appeared at their house
wearing a wistful expression, of course it would be thoughts of romance that would
set her mother's imagination ablaze. Alleria knew that Mam was a romantic, deep
down.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Mam," Alleria said.

Mam smiled and shook her head. "You've been getting many suitors lately, haven't
you? This is the age when it starts to happen."

"I wouldn't say many," Alleria replied.

"So, do you like him?"

She was about to deny and change the subject, but then it struck her, she may never
have another opportunity to have this conversation with her mother. "It's hard not
to like him," she said thoughtfully.

"But what do you feel, in your heart?"

Alleria touched her hand to her chest. Even though she might never get to talk
about this with Mam, she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud because she knew
it would just make her cry again.

In her heart she felt regret and pain. She was heartbroken.

She hugged Mam and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Mam," she said before leaving the
kitchen to go meet Dagen.

He stood stock still in the

foyer, leaning against the wall. His face was pale, he didn't look well and when he
saw her his Adam's apple danced in his throat as he swallowed hard. "At eleven-
thirty Lord Rimmley will be making an important announcement on the radio," his
voice was low and hoarse, his brown eyes flashed to Mam's direction before looking
back at Alleria. "The warrant for your and Mr. Tinpoints arrest has already been
signed. It appears your flat in the tower was searched and they found evidence."

Alleria's hand moved to clasp her mouth, the forbidden books Zalee had given her -
they had found them.

"What's this about?" Mam demanded, "who's coming to arrest you?"

She lowered her shaking hands and clasped them together. She tried to speak but
couldn't. Her tongue seemed to have been replaced by melted wax.

Dagen stepped forward and grasped her by both shoulder. "Mrs. Bellencreek, let's
all have a seat."

"Yes, my lord," piped Mam,

Alleria felt Dagen's hands tighten on her shoulders. "Please, call me Salem, Mrs.
Bellencreek,"

Da looked up from the living room table where he had been copying some documents
when they entered, he raised his eyebrows at the sight of Alleria being led by her
shoulders. "Da, this is Sa... Lord Salem Dagen my -" she stopped. That word of
possession had slipped her tongue, he wasn't really her anything. "My friend."

Da jumped up and bowed at Dagen, once again Dagen's hands tightened on her
shoulders. It probably irked him to have to bother with etiquette at a time like
this.

Also, now that he was holding her she wondered if she'd be

able to convince him to let her go. She doubted it. If he thought the way she did,
every touch he touched her now could very well be their last.

He led her to the couch where she sat down and he sat right next to her. "Alleria
is being suspected for using occult arts for the algorithm," Dagen explained when
everyone was seated.

Da gaped and seemed to be unable to speak, looking very much like a person who had
just been stabbed in the stomach.

"But that's absurd!" Mam protested shrilly, and then looked at Alleria with tears
sparking in her eyes. "Isn't it?"

Alleria had never lied to her parents before, she wasn't sure she could do it now.
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, they have evidence."

"But they still can't prove anything," Dagen said, looking reassuringly at Mam.
"They'd have to perform the crime of studying the occult arts to find out if the
algorithm was indeed influenced by the occult."

Alleria looked at her shoes as pieces came clicking together in her mind. "No, they
don't," she whispered, turning her head to look into Dagen's eyes.

Fear, outrage, helplessness, what she felt was what she saw in him. "They searched
my flat because they had been tipped, they knew exactly what they were going to
find. Zalee Salah is not a subject of the empire so he isn't subject to its laws."
It hadn't occurred to her before, how strange it was that someone not from the
empire would make it so far in the High Academy. Zalee had been placed there
beforehand, a cog in a well-oiled plan to bring about this outcome.

And she knew exactly who was

behind it. What she didn't know was why.

***

Knock, knock, knock.

The imperial police was at the door just as Lord Rimmley spoke over the radio.

"It is with a heavy heart that I make this announcement: in the face of undeniable
evidence that has been brought to our attention, Miss Alleria Bellencreek and Mr.
Wayne Tinpoint are to be arrested on the charge of dabbling in witchcraft and the
occult arts."
Drum, drum, drum.

Several sets of polished boots marched into the living room, accompanied by the
creaking of leather and the chime and jingle of golden buttons.

"Since no fault has been found with the calendrical algorithm they have created, it
will continue to be in use. The suspects will be brought to trail twelve days
hence. We request that the public will remain vigilant in the face of this dire
outcome."

Alleria rose to her feet as in a deep monotone, one of the officers read out her
rights to her. She kissed her weeping parents good-bye, and extended her thin
wrists to be handcuffed. Lastly, she looked at Dagen.

"They're unworthy of you, they always were," he called out as they led her away.
Run away, his eyes seemed to tell her. Be Ulundine, melt into a million feathers
and disappear forever.

But she couldn't do that. They had Tinpoint and her parents would be left
vulnerable. She'd find another way.

Or die trying.

***

July 30th 20.Tarris

BELLENCREEK & TINPOINT SENTENCED TO DEATH AFTER TRIAL WAS CONCLUDED THIS AFTERNOON.
150 THOUSAND

PEOPLE RALLIED IN PROTEST

CLLIVAR. This morning at approximately 10:30 began the trial behind closed doors of
Scholar Alleria Bellencreek [17] and her academic assistant Wayne Tinpoint [39].
Formerly fifth of the Paramount of the High Academy, Bellencreek's Calendrical
Algorithm, published and made operative earlier this month had prevented
international economic catastrophe.

Less than a day after the announcement of the new algorithm, Bellencreek and
Tinpoint were taken into custody due to "overwhelming evidence" that the forbidden
occult arts had been used in the construction of the algorithm.

"Both Bellencreek and Tinpoint continue to deny any connection with magic and the
occult arts," Legal imperial speaker, Mr. Lorce Westbrook was heard saying at the
end of last week. "In face of the evidence, however, the Lord Judge Rimmley still
holds them accountable."

The evidence as well as the particular felony which Bellencreek and Tinpoint had
committed cannot be made public due to the very ban on the occult arts for which
they have been tried. There are claims that Bellencreek, at her young age, could
not have possibly reached any of her uncanny achievements without some degree of
foul play. The majority of the voices, however, speak against the High Court's
brashness claiming that Bellencreek should be named an imperial hero.

"I have no doubt that [this trial] was set up," Lady Uresi Freya, fourth of the
Paramount was heard saying last night at an emergency High Academy assembly. "She
is being cut down before she grows too powerful

to be managed. She has proven that despite being of common birth and a woman, she
is a force to be reckoned with and the imperial bureaucracy fear what she can
become."

In the same assembly, Lord Salem Dagen had also expressed his concern over
Bellencreek's fate. "By subjecting a scholar like Bellencreek to this trial the
empire is cutting off the legs upon which it stands."

His lordship's words ring true as on the international side, envoys have been sent
from twenty-seven countries requesting that the empire relinquish Bellencreek and
Tinpoint to their custody.

"While we understand the importance of the empire adhering to its own laws," said
Feremick ambassador Lur Got Mid after the delivery of the sentence this afternoon,
"Bellencreek may well be the greatest mind of this millennia. With so much yet she
could contribute to humanity, it will be a phenomenal waste to see her end this
way."

The masses continue to protest against Bellencreek's conviction, claiming mistrial

and injustice. After no less than seven hundred peaceful protests taking place
throughout the empire in the past twelve days, the people of Callivar had taken to
the streets this morning. Over 150 thousand men and women of all classes have
crowded the Benevolent Owl Plaza and surrounding streets in front of the High
Court.

Even the Church has expressed its doubts. "My heart screams out a warning, this
girl must not die," the Oracle of Asrah had addressed the assembled believers
during her weekly sermon last Saturday. "For so long we have blundered through the
darkness, but our Wise God would never condemn a scholar that has given us so much.
She is naught but a messenger basking in His brilliance, we cannot let her be taken
from us prematurely."

Following the Oracles speech, many have flocked the Churches throughout the empire
praying to Ulundine for the release of Bellencreek and Tinpoint.

The sentencing this afternoon has created an uproar the kind of which the empire
has never seen. Even though the rally had soon been dispersed after the conclusion
of the trial, the common people as well as a many notable members of the high class
and the nobility continue to express their dissent.

Today's outcome is grim, but hope still remains. Emperor Tarris has already granted
an appeal before the three high judges that has been scheduled for the third week
of August in which the evidence will be re-examined. Bellencreek's supporters swore
to increase the pressure and there are rumours of the uncovering of new evidence in
Bellencreek's favour. Although slim, there is yet a chance that the empire's
savours will walk free once again.

=================

Chapter 41 - No More Strings

Chapter 41 - No More Strings

Alleria kept to the cool shade provided by the prison building and watched the bit
of pale sky that was visible from the yard. Many of the other inmates chose to
remain in the shade, but it was clear that Alleria's spot on the low wall was the
best one. If looked at from above, she knew, there would be a ring of space
surrounding her as the other women crowded in the shade but kept away.

No one dared so much to meet her eye, but she could feel their waves of loathing
waft towards her. To be so young and yet command so much fear, they waited for the
day of her hanging more than anyone else.

"Bellencreek," called one of the guards, the young one with the blue eyes that had
told her last week how he had rallied for her cause along with the rest of his
family. "You have a visitor."

Alleria nodded and rose to her feet. There was a visible shudder from the nearest
women, everyone was jumpy when she made sudden movements. Back straight, she
quietly walked across the sandy yard towards the door.

The prison uniform was quite comfortable, a loose faded red tunic over loose-
fitting, trousers that were tied at her waist by a string.

It was nice not to have to bother with make up. In fact, in prison she didn't have
to bother with anything at all. Everything was according to schedule, everything
decided for her. She wiled her hours away in boredom, while listening to the demon
world's music. The warden had refused to provide her with books, the only book
available for reading was an old copy of the Book of Lavasana available

in every single cell. After she managed to ignore the scribbles of previous inmates
along the edges of the pages, she had managed to read quite a bit of it.

Sometimes the religious propaganda made her sick, other times she managed to see
the aesthetic that Tinpoint had spoken of.

She wondered how prison was treating him.

Following the guard, she entered the visiting room and sat in the chained chair,
extending her wrists and ankles to be cuffed.

With the jangle of chains, she folded her hands into her lap as the guard
retreated. She waited for the opposite door to open and her visitor to appear.

She wondered who it was. Her parents had already been here today and after his last
visit, she had asked Dagen to come only when he thought he could control his
emotions. It was enough that her heart broke into a million pieces whenever her
parents were here. During their visits she fed them false hope, making some light
appear on their morbidly grey faces. She didn't need the weight of Dagen's despair
as well.

The door was opened with a metallic bang and a creak, her visitor walked in.

The chains on the chair rattled when she saw who it was, she clutched both
armrests, her knuckles growing white and her heart squeezing in her chest.

No. This won't do. She composed herself, glaring straight into his face as he
slipped into the visitor's chair opposite from her.

"What a pleasant surprise," she said in a dry voice. "Come to gloat?"

"I might as well," said Kai Johannes, twining the fingers of both his hands
together. Alleria didn't have to look far to notice

that he looked off, he had lost weight and his dark eyes no longer burnt with the
cold, nonchalant conviction she had known him for.
He looked vulnerable, he looked breakable, he looked like someone who was slowly
slipping into the abyss.

Her enemy, which she had defeated. There was nothing to fear any longer, and yet
her heart gave a jolt when he suddenly stood.

The guard at the edge of the room was absorbed in a book and payed them no
attention.

"Even though we'll meet again soon, I must have answers now," he began.

"Will we be meeting again soon?" she asked in a calm voice.

"What do you think will happen when they hang you from your neck and you refuse to
die? Who do you think will be given the task of seeing that you are no longer
numbered among the living?"

She blinked at him. "We won't meet again," she said in a low voice, speaking into
the piece of her Presence woven into his. "If I must die, I don't need your help, I
have the power to die. But I'll live, and I'll be free. I plan to win."

"Delusional to the very end..." he drawled.

"I know why you're here," she said. "You think I know where Lady Morway is."

Johannes gasped, taking a step towards her before, at the very last moment, he
remembered where he was. Nevertheless, he couldn't prevent savage desperation from
twisting his features. "Where is she, monster?" he snarled. "What have you done
with her?"

Alleria stared at him in silence. It was liberating somehow, to see this side of
him, one that was filled with human pain and longing for the woman he loved.

"Tell me!"

he demanded.

"I don't know where she is and what happened to her." Alleria kept her voice level.
It was always easier to keep one's emotions under check when other people lost
their head. "But I know she's alive and I have a name that might give you a hint."

"A name?"

"A boy named Cassel," she said softly. "He's the one who took her, I don't know why
and what's been done to her, I only know that if he did it, he had good reason to."

"Cassel?" Johannes whispered, his face going pale. "I remember, there was a boy
with such a name. But that's... impossible. He was.... He died many years ago."

"No." She felt her heart squeeze so tightly it was difficult to breath. "He died a
little over a year ago. In fact, you're the one who killed him."

Her words took time to sink in, and the meanings took even more time to connect,
but when they did, Johannes staggered back with shock, falling into the visitor's
chair and clutching his head between his hands. His eyes were two round unseeing
orbs in his chalk-white face. "No," he breathed out, "this can't be. This can't
be."
"Who was Cassel before? What was his relation with the Morways?"

Johannes pursed his lips together, narrowing his eyes into a glare when he looked
at her. He rose to his feet and turned on his heel. He was going to leave now with
her questions unanswered - his last attempt to torment her. He opened the door and
took a step out of the room before pausing in the doorway.

"He was Cassel Morway," he said with his back to her. "I hope I never see you
again."

***

On a

different day in mid-August, again chained to the chair in the visiting room,
Alleria crossed her legs and waited. Once more, she didn't know for whom she
waited, but she found she didn't even have it in her to care.

These days, the music was too strong, it pounded in her ears and occupied her every
thought. If she had ever wondered what it would be like to live without books and
studying, to surrender to boredom, she knew now that it would entail losing her
humanity forever.

She finally understood why she had done what she had been doing, why she had chosen
to walk this path. It hadn't been for the sake of making the world a better place,
or for proving anything to anyone, it was all for herself, every last bit of it.
She selfishly wished to fill herself, to become more than the empty shell that she
was. Without knowledge she was just a bag of water and bones. She could see less,
she could feel less, and could think less.

And her very existence became meaningless.

The door opened, and in he walked, the man that had meticulously led her to
destruction. Short and balding with small watery eyes behind thick spectacles.
Minsuit stepped into the room and seated himself in the visitor's chair.

Her stomach rolled about in anger as a yearning to rip the chains that held her in
place threatened to overpower her. She wanted to rage, wanted to make him scream
and suffer. She wanted to see him fall and fail and beg for her forgiveness.

"So you come now," she spat.

"Now is the time for us to speak," he said calmly. He pulled out a piece of paper
from his pocket

and unfolded it. Then nonchalantly, he bent forward placing it on the floor.

Instantly, the overlaying patterns of both worlds changed and shifted and she saw,
she saw how a net suddenly wove around the guard standing in the room. Through the
mesh of worlds, she could see his face, passive and bored, nothing outward had
changed. But something was closed off, he was disconnected from the real here and
now.

"This allows us to speak freely," Minsuit said.

She swallowed the rising bile in her throat. "And what do you want to speak about?"

"It's over, Miss Bellencreek, your work here is done. The appeal won't change
anything, you have no case. Your life in this world has come to an end."
"An end that you made sure would come to be." It had all come together in her mind
weeks ago. It was a plot created right after the night she had Encountered
Ulundine. That was what Minsuit and his group did, they created a script and
manipulated everything to fit.

They had manipulated her, over, and over and over. Even going so far as to somehow
get her to choose the algorithm as her research project. They had planted Zalee
Salah in the High Academy, they had even led Cassel towards her. Every piece in the
puzzle there to contribute to the outcome which they wanted. But what was this
outcome? Yes, their group obviously surpassed countries and governments, they had
an agenda, but aside from seeing her as a tool, the algorithm which they pushed her
to create had saved the world. More than the fact that she had been manipulated,
what enraged her was that she couldn't

see why.

Minsuit saw her loathing expression and leaned forward, looking over his glasses at
her. "Miss Bellencreek, we are not your enemies. We are no one's enemies."

"You certainly aren't my friends. You pushed me into solving the algorithm, I
understand that - but why this?"

"Because there is something more we need of you." Minsuit took off his glasses and
rubbed his face. "You wouldn't have agreed under any other circumstances. You would
have earned a place of note within this world, you would have grown attached. We
had to do this to sever your connection to this world. That was the only way to
make you the next Authora."

The truth reverberated in her mind like the ringing of a gong. She stared at
Minsuit with wide eyes which she wished she could widen even more to mirror the
magnitude of her surprise.

"Understand, Miss Bellencreek, we put aside sentiment, we put aside morals, we see
a problem and we come up with a sufficient solution. The Authora must step down,
but she cannot leave her seat vacant and up until your Encounter with Ulundine
there had never been a worthy rival. You must go there, you must face her, destroy
her and replace her."

"Wait just a moment -"

"She has very little power of her own, she is merely backed by the power of others
which she moves around creating an economy of Presence. Her reign has been
disastrous for this world, it cannot be allowed to continue. You were born for this
purpose, you were spirited away for this purpose, you were Encountered for this
purpose. Even if you do not accept it, loyalties have shifted towards you already -
you are the next Authora."

Alleria hissed, "Are. You. Quite. Finished?"

He tilted his round head in a small nod. That was it. That was all. She had lost,
he made it clear. She had no more cards to play, and no matter where she'd turn,
they'd do their best to bend the world so that she'd be pushed in this direction
once more.

"Then leave," she whispered.

Minsuit rose to his feet. "You can pass to the formless plane at any time, in any
place. You need only to weave yourself into the patterns or the music, and you'll
be there in body and soul."

She didn't answer, merely just continued to glare. She felt numb and empty. She
could see everything now in such a sharp clarity that it stung. He took her silence
as a sign that it was time to leave and collected the paper from the floor.

She shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts. "Mr. Minsuit," she said before he
could leave. "Tell Irene..."

His eyebrows rose high as he waited for her to speak.

"Tell Irene that she hasn't won yet. I will be the one to decide how things play
out, I will be the one to choose when it's time to leave and when it's time to
stay."

"I'll make sure to convey the message," he replied. He was lying, always lying,
manipulating and pulling the strings. If his type of occultists believed themselves
puppeteers, then she would be the one marionette to break her strings and come to
life.

A/N - So now we know who the real master-minds are, but how will Alleria get out of
this one? Or will she manage to at all?

=================

Chapter 42 - In-Between

Chapter 42 - In-Between

"The nature of balance is to be disturbed and rightened. An age of change has come.
The Authora's reign draws to a close. But suffering can be prevented."

That night, Alleria dreamt of demons. They were of all shapes, colours and sizes,
all intentions and personalities. There were some demons older than the mountains
and the sea, some demons created during meaningful ages of the world, during times
of strife and war, during times of peace and prosperity. All demons, she knew in
that dream, had been people once, long before.

Just as the Authora was once a person, just like Alleria.

"They'll make you become what you shouldn't become. They'll make it sound like a
good thing, as if it's for the best of the whole world. But they're wrong. Because
you have to be you until the end. You belong here, you're not their tool."

Alleria sat bolt upright, gulping the dry air of her cell as she struggled to keep
up with her racing heart. She brought her knees to her chest. It was surprising
that she even managed to sleep in such a time. If she stayed here in jail, she
would be hung from the neck and would have very little choice but to allow herself
to die - it would be preferable over revealing to the world what she was. If she
ran away, Tinpoint would still die and she had no doubt that Minsuit's group would
use her parents as leverage against her.

If she went to the demon world, the Authora would have her. She now knew why the
call was so loud - she was the rival, the usurper, the greatest threat the current
Authora had faced in a thousand years.
The Authora would want to destroy Alleria - but Alleria wasn't sure she was capable
of destroying someone else, even if it was to survive.

And did she want to? She would be alive forever, through all the ages of the world.
What would she do with all that time alone? What would she become?

Would at least Cassel be there with her? Was there even anything of Cassel left, or
had the current Authora sucked him dry and discarded his shell among the masses of
the Many? If he was, what would an unending relationship look like, with nothing
changing, and nothing moving, and when nothing had shape?

She couldn't even imagine what the demon world was like. When she tried to picture
it in her head, all she saw was blurry smudges colour, emotions and meaning before
anything tangible. Nothing could be touched, nothing could be sensed and in the
midst of the chaotic void was a throne made out of emptiness upon which sat a
single woman who glowed brightly with candlelight.

She got out of bed, the floor cold under her bare foot. She didn't know what to do.
If there was a third option, she couldn't see it. The fact remained - they had won.
They beat her at every turn. She couldn't find any way to defeat them, she couldn't
do anything but walk forward into the abyss.

The music rushed up to her - or into her - haunting and taunting, and she allowed
the words to fill her mind. Yes, there were words, there had always been word. The
voice of a woman, the voice of the Authora, sang on and on, chanting, chanting,
chanting.

You are the wind

The ripples

In

the chilly pond

You are the one

The brightest

The vagabond

You are the twilight

The quills

Of the nightingale

You are the last

The fallen

The failed

... Near, yet far

Here, yet gone

Shadows of the woods

The distance in the mist

On the margins

On the stitches

In the doorways

On the bridges

Come to me...

Come to me,

Come to me,

When I call,

You shall come to me

Come to me,

Come to me,

I summon

Ye shall rise for me

You are the rain

The fire

On the candlewick

You are the shadow

My liar

My pain

You are the truth

The reflection

Of my eyes

You are the new

The child

The Demon

... Near, yet far

Here, yet gone

Shadows of the woods

The distance in the mist

On the margins

On the stitches

In the doorways

On the bridges

Come to me...

The song ended and repeated, ended and repeated, until the words broke apart and
surpassed their usual meanings. Alleria saw the story of a woman left alone inside
the place where nothing truly lives, and slowly but surely her humanity decomposed.
A terrible betrayal had rent her heart allowing a frigid darkness to fill in the

void.

There was much alike between Alleria and that woman, a strange familiarity that
couldn't be explained. But there was also a big difference. The current Authora had
gone to the demon world to claim the position willingly. She had been ambitious and
she wanted to live forever.

The music wove around her, inside her, outside her. Alleria could see the patterns
within the patterns, could see the Presence as it travelled to and fro between the
worlds, she could see the shifting and the changes. She could see how everything
was very near, very mixed and on the verge of something grand.

The Authora had become the Authora because she wanted power, but what did Alleria
want?

What did she want?

The question bounced inside her skull as, with a vacuum feeling, she took a single
step and walked out of the Formed Plane.

***

Where she stood, it was sometimes an empty field of heather that prickled her feet,
and sometimes a big, big hall paved with cold greyish marble and a ceiling so high
it was shrouded in darkness. It all depended on how she moved her head. She turned
to look behind her, perhaps expecting to see her prison cell and the cot she had
just gotten out of, but there was nothing but more field there.

The heather-field seemed to become more substantial, the hall slept beneath it,
like the memory of a hall rather than an actual place. She swallowed hard and began
walking forward.

This wasn't the demon world, so where was she?

"Hullo?" she called out, expecting her voice to echo, but the sound halted dully.

She walked on, her feet

making the heather rustle. She could see very far in every direction, but nothing
changed. The field was flat and grey-green, the sky was dark and hazy, as if there
were clouds blocking the stars. There wasn't even the slightest breeze and the
stillness of the air was unnerving.
The song of the demon world continued somewhere in the distance, off the horizon.
She assumed she could walk there.

"Where am I?" she asked no one in particular.

"This is the in-between," said a familiar voice.

Alleria gasped and sprung around. The woman before her had silver hair and stood
tall and proud. "Granna?"

She didn't seem as old as Alleria remembered her to be. In fact, the texture of her
skin was difficult to see, as if she were made out of smooth round lines rather
than actual flesh. Alleria let out a sigh. "What are you doing here?"

Granny glided towards Alleria on pale bare feet. "Many years ago, I had closed the
circle with the demon world. Do you know what that means?"

"I know of it."

"Then that's enough for now."

Suspicion seized Alleria's heart and she took a step back. "Are you... are the
Authora?"

"You needn't ask me that, child, you know the answer yourself."

Alleria stared and stared, then she relaxed. "The Authora can't come here, can
she?"

"No, she can't." Granny offered Alleria her hand. "Something's troubling you,
child. Best be out with it."

Alleria took the offered hand and twined her fingers through Granny's. Granny's
hand was no longer bony, the nails weren't cracked and yellow, the skin wasn't thin
and loose. They walked on, hand in hand, heading

towards the distant horizon.

"I do have something that's bothering me," Alleria said quietly. Strange how now
she felt like herself more than ever. She was that girl again, the one she left
behind inside the past, sipping hot cocoa in Granny's cottage with all the future
spread before her like a carpet of sparkling flowers. "I don't want to become the
Authora, but if I don't then I simply die and everything will end. I don't want
things to end yet but I also don't want to live forever over there. I'm sure I'll
just be bored out of my mind. I have to find a way around it, but I just can't
think of anything."

"You can't become the Authora without wanting to," Granny said. "Although, even if
you're reluctant, your destiny is to meet her. But not yet. Now is too soon. The
humans that have sent you here were hasty and have made a grave mistake, for
they've sent you unarmed."

"Unarmed?"

Granny smiled. "You can't end her existence with your bare hands."

"I don't want to end her existence."

Granny chuckled at her words and opened a door that stood in the thin air before
them. Where had it suddenly come from? Alleria couldn't remember seeing it until
Granny had opened it. There were stairs that led downward. "These stairs will take
you to a corridor and there you'll see something you must see."

"What will I see?"

Granny shook her head. "For everyone it's different. It will be something
significant and important to you."

"And after I see that?"

"There will be another hall like this, but with less weeds. I never went beyond
there, but you'll have to decide on your own."

So this was a hall, but the field had somehow overgrown it. "What exactly is the
in-between, Granna?" Alleria asked turning her head again to examine her
surroundings.

"This used to be the domain of the gate-keepers a long time ago. It was a real
place once, now it's just a lack of place. They sometimes come here, but the
emptiness here is hard for them to bear for long. They prefer to keep watch from
the forests of the world and other margins, where they and their families are
safe."

So this was where Dagen's kind belonged before the Authora made him and his family
mortal. Alleria wondered what was here before all that, and how these people lived
and if indeed they were people at all. Creatures that were neither human, nor demon
who lived forever.

"But Granna, you didn't answer my question, what are you doing here?"

Granny Na smiled and patted Alleria's cheek. "I passed from the Formed Plane, I'm
on my way to reunite with myself."

"Reunite with..." Alleria began to ask, but before she could, she understood. Her
heart seized by the sudden pain of sadness. "You died," she whispered, "and you're
going to become a part of your Individual."

Granny replied with only a smile, before kissing Alleria on the cheek. She had
nothing comforting to say, nor did she offer any words of parting. She hovered
away, glowing and beautiful, until she vanished from sight completely.

=================

Chapter 43 - White Elephant, Tiny Lion

Chapter 43 - White Elephant, Tiny Lion

Alleria steeled her spine and began the slow descent down the stairs. They were
made of the same greyish white marble with dark grey veins passing through them.
Was this real marble? If so, where had it come from? Who had built this place? At
the bottom of the stairs she stared out down the corridor.

The ceiling was high here, supported by pillars ten or more times taller than she
was. They stood in parallel pairs forming key-hole shaped arches that stretched out
as far as the eye could see. Everything was illuminated by a misty light, like pale
daylight streaming indoors on a rainy morning, but Alleria couldn't see any windows
from which it came.

She felt the emptiness which Granna had mentioned seeping all the way down to her
bones and raising a terrible feeling of wrongness. She began slowly treading
forward, the mixture of apprehension and anticipation clutching her belly. Her
shoulders were squared, her arms stiffly positioned at the sides of her body, she
kept her eyes open wide to see what was before her.

What was she supposed to find here? Would she know it when she saw it?

The more she walked, the more she worried that she had missed something important.

Just when she considered retracing her steps to take a closer look at the alcoves
the pillars created in the grey walls, it happened.

And she had no question that it was happening.

She was in a forest, not unlike the one by her old home in the village. The narrow
trunks of young pine trees stood proudly to attention, growing

out of white snow-covered ground. In the distance she could see how the pines gave
way to cedar and evergreens. The snow was old yet still smooth for no one had
passed here in days.

The scene was so real, but she couldn't feel the cold or smell the tingling icy
smell of a forest snow. But she could hear the crunching sound of someone walking
through the trees and the howling of a freezing wind which she couldn't feel. She
turned around and saw him.

A small boy of about ten hiked through the forest, his arms wrapped around himself
and his chin tucked into the fur lining of his coat. He had a wild mane of blond
hair that rose off his head in cheerful wisps, shining in the moonlight.

He looked miserable and small, his eyes kept darting to his left where a few feet
away, another figure walked.

"That's far enough, boy." The other person was a unfamiliar woman with raven-black
hair. She pulled out from the confines of her coat a shining object and pointed it
at the child. Alleria's heart forgot how to beat, a pistol, she was aiming a pistol
at a small boy.

Click.

The woman pulled back the safety with her thumb and brought her finger to the
trigger, supporting one hand with the other to steady her aim.

The boy stood still, watching her with round eyes that were too large in his small
face. Alleria knew this wasn't real, it was a memory, a thing that happened in the
past, but she ran forward, her feet making no impression on the snow. She fell to
her knees wrapping her arms around the child, wishing to shield him with her body.

Her arms touched something

but the boy did not respond to her sudden presence.

"Good-bye, Cassel," said the woman, pushing the trigger.

The shot clapped like thunder through the quiet forest, Alleria unwittingly shut
her eyes and the boy in her arms released a high pitched wail and fell to the snow.

After a moment Alleria opened her eyes again, and was surprised to see the boy
sitting in the snow stunned but otherwise unharmed. Did the woman miss? Alleria
turned her head around to look at her. The raven-haired woman was lying in the snow
as well, and over her stood a great white elephant, its large ears flapping about
as its trunk lifted the discarded pistol from the ground.

Up and up and up Alleria looked to try and comprehend the mountainous beast.

The white elephants of the forests were said to be just as magical as dragons. They
were the largest breed of elephants in the world and while their white hide and
tusks were beautiful, no one had successfully managed to hunt one. Alleria's heart
sped with excitement. They were her favourite animal and she had never seen one up
close. It was so white that it made the snow look grey. It was almost too large to
comprehend and filled all her awareness. Each one of its legs seemed as thick as
three tree trunks and its round body blotted out half the forest from sight.

Still, it moved about with a certain grace as it picked its way between the trees
and over the woman on the ground. It swung its trunk from side to side before
tossing the pistol far away. Then it continued forward until it stood over Cassel,
extending its trunk to the boy.

Cassel

hesitated but then reached out towards it, his fingers were dark against the white
of the elephant's hide.

A gaping black maw filled with noise and ill-intent opened up right beneath the
boy, dozens of pale hands rising up and grasping him. The white elephant wrapped
its trunk around the boy's wrist. But the Many pulled him in and Alleria could hear
the cackling of a million gloating voices.

No, Cassel, no!

The elephant stomped its feel, stepping back as it tried to pull the boy out of
their clawing hands. Cassel's wrist broke with a crack, he cried out in pain and
slipped out of the elephant's grasp falling into oblivion.

Alleria remained behind in the empty forest. The white elephant cried out, a deep
rumbling lament that shook the earth and squeezed her heart until tears spilled out
from her eyes.

All at once, the forest, the snow, the woman and the elephant were all gone. She
was on her knees in the long corridor. She wiped away her tears, got up and
continued walking.

Was that all she had to see?

"Please, you have to help me out!" said a child's voice from somewhere down the
corridor. Alleria picked up her pace.

"Why would I have to help you, little demon?" answered a familiar voice that made
Alleria stop short. It seemed to be coming from behind her now. She turned around,
but no one was there. Though she had no doubt, that voice had belonged to Dagen.

"Someone wants me to come out to play, he's my friend," said the boy.

"That's not a good enough reason. I'm sorry, I won't help you. You'll just have to
do it yourself."

"Please,

please, I'm begging you. I know something that can change everything. Listen, I
know who you are. You saved a part of me. Without it I can't come back."

"I can't know you're the real you," said Dagen.

Alleria tried to find Dagen and the boy. She rushed through the corridor peeking
into every alcove along the walls. Sometimes the conversation came from her left,
sometimes it was behind her in the distance, other times it was a little way on of
her right.

"I'm trying to tell you, I know something. I'm not like the others. I know
something important."

Dagen sighed, though he didn't sound impatient. "There's no use arguing, little
one, I won't relinquish it. If you're really who you say you are, it's better for
you to have a piece on this side, that way no matter how much you mix with them,
you'll still be able to say 'I'."

"But what should I do?" the boy cried out. "If she'll know I know, she'll do me
worse than she did before. I'm scared. I'm so scared. Please! You tried to help me
before, but I need your help again. Please give me something, anything."

There was silence. Alleria stopped unsure what to do. Did it end there? It couldn't
end there. Dagen did something for the boy, right? She tightened her fists and bit
her lip. No, please, he wouldn't just ignore him. There had to be more.

She walked forward.

"Fine," Dagen said out of nowhere and Alleria sighed with relief. "I'll give you
something. I'll give you back your name, but don't ever let her know you have it,
Cassel. Don't ever let her see."

"I won't,"

said young Cassel's fading voice. "Never."

The corridor ended, Alleria reached the big hall that stretched out in every
direction as far as the eye could see. No pillars held up the endlessly high
ceiling and the floor here was checkered with dark coffee-brown and cream-coloured
tiles. What was next? She could only wonder. She knew some of the story from there.
But what did Cassel know that had been so important? Did he manage to deliver the
message, or did it disappear back into the Otherworld with him?

He had been convinced about Alleria not being fit to be the Authora, though. He
thought there would be another way. Had he underestimated how thorough the
occultists would be in their plans for her?

He never said anything about it beside that one warning, maybe he saw something
they didn't.

She stopped short. There in the hall, larger in life than it was in the memory of
the snowy forest was a white elephant.

She gaped at it with wonder, it looked strikingly familiar. "Hi," she said as
several things occurred to her at once.
It occurred to her that this one was a real white elephant and not some image
conjured up by the in-between. It occurred to her that it was both a magnificent
and adorable creature. It occurred to her that white elephants were indeed magical.
It occurred to her that they were the gate-keepers.

"Salem?" she asked, her voice rising high. "You're an elephant?"

And because it didn't happen every day that one found out that the First Paramount
was an elephant, Alleria sniggered and then found herself doubling over with
laughter.

"Funny,

is it?" The voice didn't really seem to come from the elephant's mouth, the great
mammal appeared to be entirely incapable of speech, but Alleria was certain she had
heard it with her ears and not inside her head.

The elephant swung its trunk from side to side, its large ears fanning nonchalantly
as it slowly ambled towards her. With its every step, it began to fade and
something darker in its centre became more and more apparent. Finally, the man-
shaped Dagen reached out his hand and touched the top of her head.

She took a moment to compose herself, and looked up at him wiping tears of mirth
from the corners of her eyes. "How did you find me?" she asked.

"I was keeping watch," he said with a good deal of self-importance.

"You mean, stalking?"

"Do you have to see it that way?"

Alleria shook her head. She felt weary, she sat to rest on the checkered floor.
Dagen invited himself to sit at her side. "Well this was all..." she began. "How do
I win this, Salem? I'm not ready for my life to end. I expected to get some answers
down here, but I don't know why I had to hear that."

He slid his hand up her back until his fingers twined through her hair. His touch
felt nice, but had absolutely no contribution to her current dilemma.

"I don't know what you heard, but let me ask you," Dagen said, "if you face the
Authora now, are you confident you'll win?"

Alleria shook her head.

"If you stay in the real world, are you confident you'll lose?"

Alleria blinked and then shook her head. "I feel like there's still something I can
do."

"What's that thing?"

She

opened her mouth, gaping at the enormous hall that stretched out endlessly forever.
"I don't know..." Then she gasped. "Yet. But there's still a chance I will. I still
have time. If I go now to the Authora, there will be nothing but an end. But if I
stay..." Alleria got to her feet, her chin pointing up, she looked at the darkness
above them. Did this chamber even have a ceiling? It probably didn't.
"It's all about where I have the most hope," she concluded and looked down at Dagen
with a smile. "Thank you, Salem. You saved me again."

He remained seated, and looked up at her in such a way that made her face flush and
her heart jump up into her throat. "I didn't do anything, honestly," he said.

"When you helped Cassel back from the demon world into the real world, do you know
what he knew? What he was so afraid the Authora would find out?" she suddenly
asked.

He stared at her, his eyes widening. "How do you -?"

"Well, do you know?"

Dagen shook his head. "I don't know if he only said that for me to help him, but
that does remind me, I think you should have this." He passed his hand over the
back of his head and when he brought it up, he was holding something small and
yellow pinched between his fingers.

Alleria extended her hand to take it.

What Dagen placed in the centre of her palm felt tiny and furry. She closed her
fingers over it before opening her hand again to examine what was there.

It was a tiny lion the size of a plum seed. It had a full, shaggy yellow mane and
it stared up at her with intelligent green eyes, its tail swishing as it

examined her.

"That's what I managed to save of Cassel that night," Dagen explained. "It was a
ball of Presence at first, and over the years it came to life. It's been living
behind my ear for a while.... My elephant ear, that is."

Alleria's throat closed up and tears threatened again. She blinked furiously,
refusing to break down now. Dagen pulled out a cube-shaped locket on a fine golden
chain from his shirt pocket. "You can keep him in there," he said.

"Why is he shaped like a lion?"

Dagen shook his head to show that he didn't know the answer. Alleria took the
locket. The cube had a small door which was held shut by a tiny latch. She opened
it and watched curiously as the tiny lion walked inside, curling up on the bottom
of the cube. She closed it securely.

"May I?" Dagen said, rising to his feet. He gingerly took the locket from her by
the chain and edged closer, moving her hair aside, his cool fingers brushing
against the back of her neck. She could feel his soft breath tickling her skin as
he bent his face near to fumble with the clasp and she remembered with a jolt the
night in which she had boldly kissed him.

She turned her head just a little and that was enough to meet his eye. They were
brown like hers, and had the kind of warmth that made her very soul tingle. The set
of his mouth eased and his gaze softened the longer she looked. The touch of his
fingers against the back of the neck became more pronounced.

He drew in, doubtlessly, to close the gap between them.

"Who was that woman?" Alleria suddenly asked, feeling her face burning. It wasn't
that she didn't want him to. She knew that she certainly didn't not want him. But
here? And now?

"What woman?" He seemed alarmed at her question.

"The one that was there that night. The one who tried to kill Cassel."

Dagen's face brightened, had he been worried she was being jealous? Did she have
reason to be? "She was his nanny. I don't know who paid her to -"

It was at that moment when the hall around them exploded

=================

Chapter 44 - Sundered

Chapter 44 - Sundered

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

What was happening?

There was no time to think. It was impossible to isolate a single feeling.

Everything was a whirlwind of shapes and colours, the sound of erupting stone loud
enough to make Alleria's ears explode. Things bit into her flesh from every angle,
she couldn't even register pain, she didn't have air enough to scream. Where was
she? Where was Dagen? She lost connection with her body.

Flailing, she was sent flying through the madness, through the chaos. She let the
dark feathers tear out of her, she let herself scatter into a million pieces,
dashing through the sundered hall. But fear gripped her racing heart. Something was
wrong wrong wrong. The music was wrong, disjoined sounds screeching and grinding
against each other. It all felt manipulated, mutilated, tortured and at the same
time, frightfully familiar.

Like this - like this she was so powerful, but also vulnerable somehow. She had to
protect Ulundine. In the split second she made the decision.

Alleria clamped herself together tightly. Just a girl, she was just a girl now. Her
body smacked against a slab of broken stone checkered with cracked tiles. She
coughed and coughed, her lungs begging for air.

Everything came to a standstill.

There was the hissing of dust as it landed and then - cotton-like silence assaulted
her ears, profound and almost painful after the volume of the explosions. She took
one dust-filled breath, and then another, rising on her forearms, lifting her head
and settling on her bottom.

She

couldn't see Dagen anywhere.

There were gaping chasms all around her. For a moment they were empty - true and
absolute void - but then she felt it, the Otherworld was rising up through the
cracks, like lava from the belly of the earth and the music of the awful demon
world - the same wrong music of a moment before - was striking away the silence.

When the cracks were brimming, pale appendages appeared, slowly extending on and
on, towards her from every direction. They were transparent and grey - she could
see things through them, she could see skeletal bones inside them - but at the end
of every one was a long-fingered hand.

And they were grasping for her.

She emitted a sound from deep in her throat and began crawling and shuffling away,
from the nearest hands, as far as her stone slab would allow.

Bone hard fingers grasped her hair from behind, pulling her backwards. More hands
came, clutching her shoulders and the back of her neck. She struggled against the
pull, alien fingers digging into her flesh. They wouldn't let go. They were strong
and more kept coming.

This shouldn't be happening, she had been Encountered, the Many couldn't touch her.
But something had changed the game. They had been given power over her.

Her Presence.

The chill of realisation sank in to keep her fear company. The skeleton upon which
these arms had been fleshed - it was her Presence.

This was the Authora's reach, she had come to collect Alleria. The terror rose up
from her stomach, she let loose a scream. Helplessly, she was dragged across the
trembling

marble slab towards the nearest chasm.

Something powerful snaked round her torso, wrapping her body. It felt both soft and
firm and was blindingly white. She looked up the length of the trunk into the
blazing eyes of the white elephant as it lifted her from the midst of the hands and
began galloping through the broken hall.

She curled herself round Dagen, clutching onto his trunk for dear life. He pressed
her against his elephant face. Her hands searched out and she clutched his tusks.
He sped forward, whether there were broken chunks of marble or brimming chasms, he
bounded over them all, charging on and on.

Right towards the wall.

She shut her eyes before the impact, bracing herself against the tusks.

With a splitting sound, the wall came apart. Through and through, Dagen raced.
Strange, heavy, ancient music wove in abnormal patterns, it followed different
rules from the music of the demon world - it was a different brand of magic
altogether. The transparent hands continued to chase them, as they fled through a
dark grey field of emptiness.

Until, finally, they were somewhere else.

On the same blank plane with nothing but grey ground and black sky, Dagen put her
down and fell to his human knees by her side. He never transformed, he was always a
person that occupied the centre of a gigantic white elephant. He seized her in his
arms, pressing her head to the side of his neck. Wet, hot tears slipped from his
eyes and down to her jaw. She couldn't move right away, but could feel that he was
panting and trembling. "We're safe here for now..." he murmured.
"For now."

She moved her arms up his back. They were still working. She shifted about into a
less uncomfortable. Her legs responded reasonably. "What...? She found me?" she
croaked.

"She can't force you to go to her," Dagen hissed, "it's them. The humans. They
didn't want to give you a choice. That was your Presence, your own Presence. They
gave Cassel to the Authora to get to you and have no doubt that that is exactly
what happened."

"She does have Cassel." Alleria pulled away but winced, everything hurt. But what
had she expected? Why had she been so certain that he had fallen into the demon
world and the Authora somehow didn't have him and all her Presence? "I have to go
back. I have to save him!"

Dagen looked at her grimly and shook his head. She knew what that meant. It was too
late - more than too late. There would be nothing to save. Aside from the tiny lion
in the locket, Cassel no longer existed.

"I'm sorry, Alleria."

But she shook her head. She didn't feel surprised, just numb. A part of her had
known that this was the case. She found herself wishing she had gotten to say
goodbye - but that was a useless desire. Even if she had said goodbye - she
wouldn't have been satisfied. There would be no peace in her heart as there was
nothing but bitterness and pain in the parting of ways.

What would Cassel have wanted her to do? He had told her himself. She needed to
remain Alleria.

So she would continue to fight. The Authora and Minsuit, they weren't going to give
up. But she would be vigilant, she was going to stand her ground.

"I'll go back to the Formed Plane," she decided with steely conviction. She had to
be rational, it was the only way she'd survive.

Dagen looked her up and down, he seemed skeptical at what he saw, but nodded
anyway. "Do you know the way?"

She concentrated for only a second on the familiar patterns that her Presence left.
"Yes," she whispered.

No sooner did she say that, she was back in her prison cell. Dusty, bruised and
bleeding, but back in the Formed plane nonetheless.

=================

Chapter 45 - Leap of Faith

Chapter 45 - Leap of Faith

The sink in her cell was tiny and it took the majority of an hour to become
reasonably clean. It was fortunate that she had a second prison uniform because the
one she returned with from the in-between had become chalky pink instead of red.
What she couldn't do anything about were the bruises and little cuts all about her
body. The prison uniform was in its summer version, and the half-sleeves revealed
enough of her arms to show that her skin was no longer its usual milky white
colour. Out of the little cuts on her body, the worst one ran down from her eyebrow
to her cheekbone. It wasn't deep and had clotted well, but it stood out on her
face, angry and red. She did her best to part her hair on the side to cover it, but
when she pulled her hair up into the compulsory ponytail the inmates had to wear,
it became visible again.

There was nothing she could do about it now.

Besides, she had more pressing problems - like preventing her own execution.

She had thought she could do it, but she had no books available, no resources. Only
her mind and her wits. She still had a meeting with her solicitor Mr. Edgar on
Wednesday, she could ask the warden to invite a guest - every inmate was granted
three guest requests and Alleria had made none.

But all those things only meant something if she had an actual plan

Dawn came, and the day passed. No amount of thought yielded anything. That night
she managed only little sleep. Something, she needed to do something.

According to the clock on the wall across from

her cell, it was four in the morning. She paced her tiny cell back and forth. There
was a slight sprain in her ankle and her knees hurt from last night, but she
couldn't sit still. No one had said anything about the bruises. It was commonplace
in the prison. She knew they wondered who had dared, when it had happened - and
what had happened to the other party.

She sat down on her cot, fidgeting. Usually, when she was this anxious, reading was
the thing to calm her down and make her see things clearly. But with her execution
looming over her, it was hard to feel anything but muddle-brained.

She only had the old battered copy of the Book of Lavasana to read. She pulled it
out of the drawer in the bedside cupboard and leafed through the pages, relieved to
be touching paper. Her eyes read a few random passages, just to read something,
just to see letters, black on white.

She turned the page, the crackling sound of the thin paper was like music to her
weary ears. She released a long breath and felt her shoulders relax. She allowed
herself to sink back and read in earnest.

Like Tinpoint said, there was an aesthetic to the verses of the Book, it was very
precise. Sometimes the passages were clear, but many, many times meaning had taken
the back-seat for the sake of keeping the lyrical balance giving the book the
beautiful cryptic prose is was famous for.

The way it was all arranged, it was almost mathematical.

Alleria gasped and sat bolt upright, holding the book closer to her eyes. Her
fingers clutched it tightly, but her hands were shaking. She turned the page, and
then another.

She read, and did more than read. Her eyes saw past the words, into the riddle. She
put the book down. A pen, she needed a pen - this was... this was amazing!
She looked about herself and remembered that she was still in prison. She had some
paper, an old pen and a bit of ink that had been given to her for the sake of
writing letters. There was very little light to see by, but she couldn't be
bothered to care. She sat on the hard, cold stone floor, spreading the paper and
propped the Book open next to it.

She wrote.

At dawn, right before breakfast, she ran out of ink and paper, there was no choice
but to take a break.

During breakfast, her mind wouldn't cease to run over the details of what she was
reviewing and find a clear way to explain it. Conveying the meaning correctly and
coherently was the key.

Stirring the watery porridge, she wondered if she'd have it all ready by the time
she met Mr. Edgar. Anyway, she'd have to ask Jack, the prison guard, for more ink
and paper.

And there was a guest she needed to invite.

***

On the day of the appeal, the bruise on her jaw hadn't faded yet. It had turned
green and yellow, but was still visibly a bruise. The appeal, like the trial, was
not held in the main courthouse, but in a room that was no larger than Alleria's
study in Ortkerry Tower. There were four desks and enough chairs for fifteen
people.

Unlike last time, behind the largest desk in the very centre of the room sat three
judges and not one. Rimmley was flanked by Lord Fraun and Lord Liprig. Not that the
other two judges were any better than Rimmley,

they - all three of them - shared mutual sentiment concerning the lower classes and
women.

But that was of no matter, because Alleria didn't plan to give them room for doubt
or interpretation.

Tinpoint was there, or the withered, bare-headed, beaten version of him. He looked
almost frail, slouched in his seat with the light and hope gone from his eyes.

She didn't like it that they had shaved his head in prison. Of course, that was the
rule for men, and it had also been the rule for women until a few years ago. But
Tinpoint without his mess of curls was just a plain middle-aged man with weary eyes
and a crooked nose.

It was wasted sentiment, she knew, hair grew back. She wished that whatever had
happened to him behind the prison walls would fade away from memory, or at least
become insignificant.

Because they were both going to live. She straightened in her seat, reached out and
squeezed his shoulder. He looked at her, and for a very brief moment there was a
questioning spark in his eyes.

Watch closely, she mouthed.

Rimmley looked at his watch. "It's time to begin," he said with a yawn. Surly, he
thought he knew today's outcome. He shuffled through the papers before him without
sparing Alleria or Tinpoint a glance.

"This is the appeal in trial 515ABWT1135-20.Tarris." He read out the words of the
official appeal granted by the emperor in a dry voice and then flipped to the next
page before him.

"Mr. Edgar, it says here that you have submitted new evidence and you've two
witnesses who will testify as well as a review for the old evidence. Let's get
through this shall we.

Er, would you care to present the evidence first?"

The judges ruffled through their papers, each one lifting the printed copy of
Alleria's article. Mr. Edgar sprang to his feet. He was a young solicitor with
absolutely no sense of humour what-so-ever, Alleria hadn't seen him smile even once
and conversations with him threatened to send her to sleep. Still, he had been the
best they managed to arrange and had come with a recommendation from Lord Sanstun.

"Honourable judges," he said after clearing his throat. "For the evidence set
before you, I call Miss Alleria Bellencreek to testify."

Lord Rimmley snorted, Liprig pursed his lips but lifted his eyebrows as he read
Alleria's essay with growing interest, and Fraun twined his fingers together and
frowned.

Mr. Tinpoint suddenly looked fully alert. Alleria nodded her head at him and rose
from her seat, walking across the room to sit behind the smallest desk set out for
witness testimony. A court attendant approached with a copy of the Book of Lavasana
over which Alleria swore an oath. The irony was beautiful, because of many things
but also because she fully planned to lie.

"Miss Bellencreek," Mr Edgar said. "Would you care to explain the document that has
been submitted for evidence?"

Alleria nodded her head. "It's an essay I wrote explaining my inspiration for the
calendrical algorithm. I used Arbittgrove's numeric linguistics theory on the Book
of Lavasana some time ago only to discover that the book is full, or rather,
composed of hidden mathematical formulas. It is from there that all the equations
for the calendrical

algorithm derive and from no other source. In the essay I present comprehensive
proof for each and every component used in the algorithm."

Mr. Edgar nodded at her answer. "Are you religious, Miss Bellencreek?"

"Not exactly," she replied, her eyes moving to the three judges, among them Rimmely
was glaring right at her and didn't look quite as bored as he did a moment ago.
"But there's no denying the fact that the Book of Lavasana had the answers within
it the whole time. It does make one wonder about many things and how, in fact, the
Prophet of Ulundine had the answers to our problems all along."

Mr. Edgar then turned to the judges, and for a moment, just a moment, he seemed a
little bit smug. "Honourable judges, I had already taken the time to cross-
reference Miss Bellencreek's testimonial essay with the aid of the greatest minds
of our empire." He lifted a large stack of papers from his desk and Alleria
couldn't help but feel impressed at how fast he worked.

He placed the stack of reviews before Rimmley with a heavy bang. "Each scholar had
signed their name at the bottom of their review. Even the first and fourth of the
Paramount had felt inclined to participate."

"Oh, we all know of how Lord Dagen loves to participate with Miss Bellencreek,"
Rimmley muttered, the first sign that he was losing his wits. "Have you any other
questions for your witness, Mr. Edgar?"

Edgar nodded, completely ignoring Rimmley's quip about Dagen. "Yes, indeed, just a
few more. Why wait until now to reveal this information, Miss Bellencreek?"

"Simple." She crossed her arms, showing off a multitude

of bruises in all colours and shapes. "The inspiration was in my head, but I had
never written down a coherent analysis of the Book before. When we completed the
algorithm, the most pressing matter before us was to prevent a catastrophe from
happening and soon after came our arrest. Luckily, in prison, the only thing
available to me was the copy of the Book. However, I'm sorry to say it took me
several weeks to complete the full essay." She lowered her gaze, pushing a lock of
brown hair behind her ear, the cut next to her eye hadn't completely healed yet.
When she was sure the three judges could see the sheen of tears in her eyes and the
soft set of her shoulders, she added in a quiet voice, "It wasn't easy to
concentrate in prison."

There was a pregnant silence in which even Rimmley looked at his hands. The seed of
doubt had not only been planted, but had firmly taken root. These men, she knew,
all three of them had daughters and for a moment, just a moment, the thought that
they had condemned a gentle, innocent, young woman to prison hovered through their
minds.

Good. But she wasn't done yet. Thoroughness was important. There was still a
chance, a good chance, that her evidence would be seen as a ploy. There was only
one thing that could promise that all charges would be dropped.

"Thank you, Miss Bellencreek," Edgar said with compassion in his voice. "Just need
to ask you a few more questions for the record."

Alleria nodded, indicating that she was prepared.

"Have you ever dealt in magic, or the occult, or anything related?"

"Never."

"Have you ever read

books on the occult, demons or anything related?"

"Never."

Mr. Edgar pointed at the wooden box set on a side table which she knew contained
the forbidden books. "Have you ever seen that box?"

"I may have noticed it while visiting Mr. Salah for tea."

"According to the evidence, your fingerprints were found on the box. The books'
materials prevented from any fingerprints of any person to be found on the books
themselves. Do you recall touching the box?"

"I once touched a wooden box while searching for the sugar in Mr. Salah's flat."

"Did you touch the contents of the box?"

"It was locked, I never saw what was inside."

"Do you know how the box reached your rooms, Miss Bellencreek?"

Alleria shook her head. "No."

Mr. Edgar said, sounding triumphant, "That will be all, Miss Bellencreek."

***

The judges took a moment to review the new evidence in silence, Alleria waited at
the defendants' table, exchanging gazes with Mr. Tinpoint who kept wriggling his
eyebrows at her questioningly. It was too early to hope. She tried to talk back to
him using her eyebrows, but she didn't have his talents in that field.

"I would like to call another witness," Mr. Edgar said once the trial resumed.

The judges all flipped through their papers, all three of them wearing an identical
expression of surprise. "You're calling who?"

"Your eyes don't deceive you, honourable judges," said Mr. Edgar, "I call the
Oracle Asrah to testify."

It was mandatory for at least one representative of the faith to attend every
trial, so no one had noticed the

Oracle sitting quietly on one of the chairs along the back. Now, the three judges,
the court stenographer, the three legal interns, the six policemen, the two court
attendants and Mr. Tinpoint gaped and gasped as the grey-clad priestess rose,
crossing the small room with the tapping of her high-heeled boots against the
polished wooden floor.

And then the spell was broken and there was the scrape of chairs and the rustle of
clothing as everyone present rushed to their feet and bowed their head in
reverence.

"Gentlemen," she said, and then looked at Alleria, "and young lady." Everyone sat
after they had been acknowledged. The Oracle held a sheet of thick parchment
lightly between her fingers which she gently placed on the witness desk before
sitting down. She took no oath, the Oracle was above such things.

"Your holiness," Mr. Edgar began, sounding more and more like he was enjoying
himself. His face, however, was as mirthless as always. "You've read Miss
Bellencreek's essay, I presume?"

"I have."

"Tell me, child, what do you think I most covet?" the Oracle had asked that day she
had come to visit Alleria in the prison.

"And what do you make of it?" Mr. Edgar inquired.

"I am no mathematician. I'm merely schooled in being a medium between our people
and the benevolent God. However, I plainly know that it is folly to condemn our
saviour, especially when her calling had come from Lavasana herself." Her blue eyes
met Alleria's and she held her gaze. They had reached a mutual understanding.

"You want assurance in your faith." Alleria had answered. "You want your beliefs to
not be in vain so you can stop feeling afraid, so there would be meaning in your
life again. I won't lie to you, demons, or gods, they all may be one and the same.
All I can give you is the chance to speak with Ulundine, though I take no
responsibility over what he'll tell you."

"I am sorry, Mr. Edgar," said the Oracle, looking from Alleria to the judges.
"You've invited me here to testify. but I've come for a different purpose." She
rose noiselessly from the witness chair and stepped up to the judges' desk, taking
the parchment with her and placing it before Lord Rimmley. "Miss Bellencreek's
essay has come to the attention of the Revered Candle-bearer. After reading it, we
have come to recognise this as a work of God. From this day onward, Miss Alleria
Bellencreek has been named a saint by the holy Church of the Owl, this certificate
attests to that. She is under the Church's protection and is therefore no longer
yours to judge. We have decided on this occasion to extend that same protection to
her assistant, Mr. Tinpoint as he was acting under Miss Bellencreek's guidance and
orders."

Lord Rimmley made to pick up the certificate.

"Do handle it with care, my lord," said the Oracle, "the ink is still fresh."

=================

Chapter 45.5 - Warning, Warning

A/N - This is another little thing I added during one of my edits. I felt this
scene was missing. Hope you like it (and that it will make a slightly clearer
picture).

Chapter 45.5 - Warning, Warning

Alleria rapped her knuckles against the nearest wooden crate, gazing at her shoes
as she wondered if that was the best way to make her presence known. A rustle of
papers and footsteps told her that her entrance had been noted.

Dressed in a crisp white shirt, an orange vest and grey trousers, Zalee Salah this
time had decided to occupy the masculine gender in a feminine way, with his brown
curls bouncing as he moved and his lips set in a flower-bud pout. He stopped short
when he saw her, his face an unreadable mask.

She could tell, however, by the way he gently put down the papers he was holding on
the nearby table that he was surprised to see her. She crossed her arms over her
stomach, there were many things to arrange and look after. Almost overnight, she
had become one of the most important people in the empire.

And yet here she was, come to speak with a person who betrayed her. She watched him
with her mouth clamped shut, he held her gaze steadily.

After a long spell of silence, she finally said, "Do you know why I'm here?"

Zalee sighed and, shaking his head, picked up the papers, stuffing them into a
nearby crate. Perhaps it was her imagination, but there was the slightest ease of
his shoulders. "I know why you're here, baby," he confirmed, sounding
uncharacteristically patient. He stopped what he was doing to meet her eye once
more. "You want
explanations."

"I guess so," Alleria said in measured tones. "I'm more curious, though, if I'll
receive them from you."

"Why wouldn't I explain things?"

Alleria shrugged and looked up at the painted ceiling. "Because Irene forbids it."

For the first time, Zalee smirked and a touch of mischief replaced his cold
indifference. "You mucked Irene's plans up really, really bad, baby," he said and
then chortled as if the memory still entertained him. "You should've seen it, the
work of years crumbled to nothing because of a Gatekeeper and a clever devil-spawn
and all Irene could do was sit there and watch it go down. I love it when people
who think they're in control have the reins whack them in the nose."

"That applies to me too. I thought I was in control and it turned out that I
wasn't."

Zalee rolled his eyes. "Please, you don't look like someone who can control her own
hair, let alone her life. You're still a kid, baby Bellencreek, but not a kid I'd
want to mess with more than I already did."

Alleria sidestepped round the crate, edging into the room. "Is that why you're
leaving?"

Zalee shook his head. "I need a break from this backwards empire." He turned his
back to her on the pretext of continuing his packing. "Frankly, I was done with it
the day that exorcist decided to carve up my throat. Religious fanatics give me bad
skin."

"Religious fanatics make me break out," Alleria agreed, "in a very feathery way."

Still with his back to her, Zalee snorted but attempted to mask it with a cough.
Alleria assumed it was to keep ahold of his now hole-ridden facade.

"So, you're an occultist?" Alleria asked, cutting through Zalee's humour.

"Yeah, yeah," Zalee answered, turning to her with a glare. "I joined up with
Irene's gang a few years ago, I liked what they were trying to pull off. It was
about time someone took Her down and getting you to fix the algorithm was a stroke
of brilliance."

"Then why are you so happy her plan failed?"

"Happy? Happy? Who said I'm happy? I'm never happy." Zalee shrugged his thin
shoulders. "She went personal, that was a bad idea. And between you and me, she's a
power-hungry bitch. You know occultists have blind-spots in their calculations,
whenever an exorcist is involved in something? She messed with her own son, created
an entirely new formula that used the blind-spot as a variant and managed to
increase her own power. Irene's smart, but one person holding all that power, it's
as bad as the Authora except it's here and immediate. Let's just be thankful that
this time around she had good intentions."

"Is this another warning, then?" Alleria asked quietly, her heart thumping in her
chest. Not many people had the ability to be both animated and intense like Zalee
Salah. Yes, Zalee had betrayed her in the end, but the more Alleria thought about
it, the more she was convinced that that time that he approached her during the
Exams had not been part of Irene's master plan.
It had been Zalee's personal whim. Alleria's enemies stood against what she wanted
for herself, but what they wanted to achieve was not a bad thing and as much as she
loathed them, they were not bad people.

A grin cut across Zalee's face, making the shadows deepen underneath his high
cheekbones. "You catch on fast, baby Bellencreek," he said, his voice dripping with
approval.

=================

Chapter 46 - Over The Top

Chapter 46 - Over The Top

It was a warm afternoon during the middle of the month of Sol as a group of
handsomely dressed people gathered in the rose garden of Fortcain college for the
diploma ceremony. A dozen young men stood to one side of the dais dressed in the
light-blue jackets and black trousers of the Fortcain uniform. The thirteenth man
in line wasn't quite as young and his uniform had the look of one that had seen
much time and wear (and, in some places, coffee.)

Every name that was called met with polite applause as each gentleman stepped up to
collect his degree. The last to get called was Mr. Wayne Tinpoint. His shortly
cropped hair did nothing to hide the gauntness of his face. He marched up to the
stage in a complete daze and took his Master's degree without so much as a nod to
the Professor performing the ceremony.

A few people tried to clap, but Mr. Tinpoint stalked away disappearing into the
back garden.

Alleria separated from the crowd. Wearing brand-new scholar robes, she stood out
like a part of the sky that had fallen among humans. She didn't care about the
searching gazes of others, she followed in Tinpoint's footsteps.

She found him sitting slouched over on a grey stone bench in a grove of lychee
trees with his diploma unrolled on the bench next to him. He looked up when she
approached and then bowed his head. "It's made out of paperboard made to look like
parchment," he said.

"Well, parchment is a bit over the top."

Tinpoint smirked and looked up at her. "You got named a saint on a piece of
parchment."

"Getting named

a saint was very much over the top. But it was necessary."

"I'm not complaining. That made my chances of dying before the age of forty much
smaller. And of course, I finally got the chance of getting this." He gestured at
the diploma as if it were an old shoe.

"Are you mad at me, Mr. Tinpoint?"

His eyebrows shot up. His lack of hair made his features look rough and his nose
seemed larger. "Mad at you, why would I be -?"

"You were nearly executed because of me, you had to endure prison and lastly, you
did more than half the work but the algorithm has been written under my name."

Tinpoint made a crooked face, pushing out his bottom lip before he spoke. "Well,
I'm a little mad at you right now for thinking that my current mood is because of
that. Has becoming the most powerful woman in our humble empire overnight gotten to
your head? This isn't about you."

She felt relieved and at the same time ashamed that she was relieved at his words.
She picked up the diploma and sat on the bench instead of it. "I'm sorry. I guess I
became conceited sooner rather than later. You can still tell me why you're upset."

Tinpoint shrugged his shoulders letting his arms dangle between his legs. "I've
wasted my life. I spent twelve years beating my head against the desk. Wiling away
the hours on the delusion that I can fix that bloody eyesore of an algorithm. Then
in one year together with you, I got drunk on the sense of achievement, the
powerful notion that I was part of something huge and I completely overlooked some
primal human... er... things. And-and-and...

basically, now I'm regretting some of that, because I think... it would've been
nicer if I had...er... and that's it, really."

He fell into an uncomfortable silence and Alleria realised that this was where a
good friend would say something useful and meaningful. However, for a moment her
brain was frightfully blank. She had absolutely no clue what Tinpoint was talking
about.

"Just so we're on the same page here," she said stiffly, "you're talking about
Gina, aren't you?"

Tinpoint's face turned completely red.

Oh dear. Now, Alleria felt she knew even less what to say. She didn't know the
whole story, both Tinpoint and Gina were shy people and had never talked to her
directly about it. She tried to imagine, however, were she in his shoes, what would
she want someone to say to her?

"You should be open with what you feel, Tinpoint and talk to her clearly. Gina
wants to be loved and cherished and she deserves that. If you don't communicate
with her, how will she know?" Alleria said and was glad that her words didn't come
out as gibberish.

"I've just... I've never been in a relationship before. I've never felt this way. I
mean, I thought I did, once, several years ago. But it all turned out to be an ugly
mistake, just something to distract me from what a failure I was -"

"But you weren't a failure." Alleria handed him the diploma. "It may have seemed
like that at the time, but you had to be there to be able to come here. There are
some things that take longer because they're just unique and so much bigger. Your
name has been written in the history books,

you've done something that surpasses time."

He took the diploma, flipping it over and over in his hands. He's face was still
tinged pink. "I'll.... I'll call her."

There was silence, and yes, it was awkward.

"Er... and you, Bellencreek? What about Lord Dagen? Or was it Mr. Malluri's son?"
Tinpoint scratched his head. "I'm very bad at noticing these vibes, but I do
believe that Dagen seemed very adamant about... about you."

Alleria sprung to her feet, now her face was burning too. "Oh, that elephant," she
said in a high-pitched voice.

"Elephant?" Tinpoint sounded confused for a moment and then clapped his hands
together. "Oh, I see, that's an inside joke between you two. Surly, a sign of
compatibility."

She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm still... making my mind
up."

"Don't take too long to decide," Tinpoint said knowingly, "you'll come to regret
it."

***

Winter started around Alleria's eighteenth birthday in early December that year.
The temperature plummeted below the freezing point and the sky was heavy with dark
snow-clouds. Alleria let her tiny lion out of the locket and allowed it to walk
around the wooden coffee table in the lounge room of the flat of the First
Paramount.

She still didn't know exactly
either. It wasn't a demon and
was how it stayed. She fed it
occasion. It was a remarkably
climbing into
what the lion was and Dagen admitted to not knowing
had come alive some time ago, he had said, and that
tiny crumbs of raw meat and it hunted ants on
loyal lion, though, and always returned to her,

its golden home.

"He's been with you for four months. You should find him a name," Dagen said out of
the blue, looking over the top of the book he was reading.

"I can't think of anything. He does remind me of Cassel, but very slightly. And
calling him Goldy seems cliché."

Dagen laughed and closed the book, putting it on the side table atop a large pile
of other books. He leaned forward, the spark in his brown eyes directed right at
her. "You should try asking him."

Alleria smirked and extended her finger, letting the tiny lion climb on. "Why
didn't I think of that?" She squinted at the lion, focusing on his green eyes and
yellow face. "What's your name?"

There was nothing at first, no response or telepathic voice. But then suddenly, a
word appeared in her thoughts and she knew for certain it hadn't been there before.
"His name is Larcimar," she said.

"Larcimar? Like the city in Galberry?"

Alleria shrugged, letting Larcimar pad into his cube. "I guess. By the way, Salem,
why are you here?"

He rose from the armchair and moved to sit next to her on the couch, there was
mischief on his face when he smiled. Alleria felt that the look he was giving her
was quite distracting. "I've spent a year living in this flat, I've grown rather
attached to it."

Alleria rolled her eyes before grinning as well. "Admit it, you've come to raid my
library."

"You can't blame me," he edged closer, leaning towards her. Having him this close
made that odd feeling tremble in her chest. "I've grown accustomed to the perks of
being First Paramount."

"So you don't

enjoy eating my dust, Mr. Second Paramount?"

His grin widened. "Did I say that? On the contrary, Miss First Paramount, I'm
rather enjoying the view from here."

She fought the urge to check her clothes and make sure nothing was too revealing.
Of course Dagen would mean some metaphorical kind of 'view', but she didn't really
understand. She tried to look aloof. "But I've beaten you at the game," she argued.
"I've taken the highest position from you. We're rivals."

He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers making her freeze. "That's not
how I see it," he said softly. "The one who lays claim to the First Paramount's
heart has all the benefits of First Paramount without any of the obligations.
Besides, I feel like I win something when I see that you're happy."

Why did he have to go and say something like that? All attempts at aloofness were
dashed. Her heart gave a jolt that somehow caused her mouth to smile.

Not just her mouth. She was smiling up to her hair.

He moved his fingers from her cheek, taking her hand in his. It wasn't easy to kiss
and smile at the same time, but somehow, they managed.

THE END.

A/N - Thank you tremendously for reading Alleria. Thank you for sticking with me
through all the ups and downs. You really made it worthwhile for me, you made me
try my hardest. I'm so glad I got the chance to try to impress you with my writing
acrobatics. I hope you had an enjoyable journey - I hope you will take a moment to
share with me your thoughts about this book. Tell me everything, what you loved,
what you hated and where you think I made mistakes.

As always with my stories, this one will probably have a sequel - but I don't know
right now when I will be ready to write it. Writing "Alleria" was a journey for me,
I learnt so much as a writer, and I want the sequel to be just as good -- if not
better. The ending is a happy ending, but it's not very hard to shatter happiness.
Somewhere out there, the Authora is still waiting to meet Alleria and then there's
the matter of Dagen - is she really ready to commit to a relationship with an
elephant? I'm sure not many girls, even fantasy-story girls, have had to ask
themselves this question.

I hope I'll be seeing all of you around in my other stories. So many exciting
adventures ahead of us! Love you all to bits!

Einaty.
=================

o0o0o0o

"Demon-Encounters touch our lives strongly, they help us change. It is futile to

try and understand the meaning behind it, but it is wise to embrace the change that
this Encounter allows."

THIS CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE TEMPORARILY PASTED HERE BECAUSE SOME USERS ARE
EXPERIENCING A BUG.

And All Became Dark

Alleria warmed her hands over a large mug of tea even though her fingers weren't
cold. Da had made his special pancakes for breakfast. Over a checkered red and
white tablecloth the table was set with little bowls filled with pieces of fruit or
whipped cream or chocolate syrup to spread and sprinkle over the pancakes.

The stage was set for celebration, but the mood was wrong. Her parents had already
sensed the peril, they began chatting loudly amongst themselves, exaggerating their
cheerfulness to eclipse her gloom.

Last night, she had been swept away in the magic of falling for Cassel. She had
been basking in the glittering wonder of a new discovery that had made all her
troubles seem light and far. But the morning, although gloriously bright, found her
with a heavy heart.

She had taken the exam, and failed.

On top of that, the Church was after her. The more she tried to find a way out of
that situation, the more hopeless it seemed. She would have to run away, she would
have to leave her dreams and hopes behind and go into hiding. All her fault. All
because of yet another mistake. She hadn't known. Her left-handedness had never
truly been an issue before.

Everyone in

the village knew she had been spirited away and had come back. No one considered it
bad, no one had held it against her.

They just refrained from talking about it, ever.

"Don't be mad at Mr. Malluri anymore," Alleria finally said weakly. "I would have
failed anyway."

"You can't know that for certain, the results aren't out yet," Mam argued.

"Have some faith in my daughter, 'Lerry," Da said with a smile.

She had already known that they would say that, her parents were so predictable.
But, somehow, it was strangely reassuring. "There's something I need to tell you,"
she began. They both looked at her, giving her their undivided attention. Words
clogged her throat and she choked. While the world could ignore and disregard her,
at least her parents always listened. They each had the things they loved and
hated, they were as good and bad as all adults. But she always got the feeling that
she was in the centre of their hearts.
And they'd be sick with worry if they knew that there was actual danger. No one
talked about that night when she was ten, least of all her parents. Their way to
cope with it having happened to their precious daughter was to behave as if it
hadn't. She wasn't one to lie to them, she knew it was stupid to keep it from them.
But her heart was too swollen up with emotions. She started to cry.

Da jumped to his feet making the table clatter. He was always finicky when Alleria
cried. Mam edged across and hugged her.

"It's alright, love," Da said, coming round the table and taking her hand since Mam
was already doing the hugging. "You can tell

us."

It was some time before Alleria could control herself enough to utter anything
coherent. "I just wish I was back home. I know I sound spoilt, and I don't mean to
be complaining, but I'm just... I'm just so tired."

Mam and Da exchanged a knowing glance. "Then you know what?" Da said gently, "Maybe
we should move back to the countryside."

Alleria was surprised right out of her misery. Obviously, her parents had discussed
this, had even been plotting it for some time. She didn't think they'd actually
consider.

"'Leria, you don't owe anything to anyone. You don't have to try so hard to prove
yourself. You've given up your childhood, but we know who you really are and we're
proud of you."

She blinked, looking from Mam to Da and wiped the remaining tears from her face
with the backs of her hands. "But...you've always wanted to live in the city, Mam.
And Da, you said you liked your new office."

"If I'm completely honest with you," Mam said, "I do miss the countryside."

"What do you want?" Da asked.

What did she want? Would it be so wrong give up? To leave Callivar? That could
certainly help get the Church off her back. They couldn't go back to her village,
but there were many similar places all over the empire. She was old enough to
apprentice for something, maybe she'd become an imperial Hand like her parents and
write imperial documents in the emperor's handwriting her whole life, or maybe
she'd become something important like a doctor or a midwife, a job that would
require both knowledge and action. She could be with

people her age, and perhaps Cassel would agree to come with them. It wasn't as if
he had to live at Mr. Malluri's.

The idea felt wrong, but also appealing in its own way.

She had dreamt, she had planned and hoped to become a scholar, to become an advisor
for the emperor. But would that really make her a more meaningful person? Was it
even possible to change something as huge as an entire empire? Maybe the most she
could hope for was to slowly and carefully touch individual lives.

A long time passed and Alleria said nothing. Mam smiled knowingly, "You don't have
to answer right away, love. Even if we decide to leave Callivar, it will be a
couple of months before we could."
 ***

"I can't leave Callivar, not for long, anyway." Cassel said later that day as they
sat side by side on a bench overlooking the Mayurno river.

"Why not?"

"Remember the occultist who brought me back? Well, he bound me to him. That means
I'll have to go back to him every now and then, otherwise I'll fall back into the
Otherworld."

"What happens if he unbinds you?"

"I don't know. You get saved from hell, you don't ask questions. Even this... this
way is better than her." He leaned over and kissed the side of Alleria's neck.
"Here, I have so much. I see so much. I can grow and I have you."

He laid his head against her shoulder and she tangled her fingers through his thick
blond hair. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They were each caught in
their own snarl of dark thoughts.

"Was the Authora terrible?"

Instantly, he pulled away, his shoulders slouching

forward. "As terrible as poisoned honey. She's bright and beautiful, like any one
of the Individuals, filled with candlelight and music and those hidden meanings
that make you feel curious. But Individuals hate her. She wants them on beck and
call, and they fight her off like the pest that she is. I heard a rumour that she
was human once, a very long time ago. It's hard to believe, except for the fact
that Individuals change their shape but the Authora is always a woman."

Alleria had more questions to ask, more things she wanted to know. "I feel
depressed now," he complained, angrily ruffling his own hair with both his hands
before turning to her. "You're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you," she said.

"How do you know?"

"I don't want us to separate."

Cassel smirked and cupped her face, kissing her. After a while he pulled away,
looking up at the river. "Don't you find it strange that she stopped calling you?"

"Does that worry you?"

"A little. I don't know what worries me more." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe you should tell Malluri about the Church."

"I have a meeting with him this evening. Do you think he knows already? Something's
the matter. I could almost hear Minsuit sweating over the telephone this morning."

"What has the world come to? 'Leria has used the telephone yet again!"

"I dialled and everything. But more importantly, Cassel," - Alleria gave him a
serious stare - "do you know what's going on?"

"Don't worry, it has nothing to do with you. Rich men and their rich troubles. I'll
take you there later."

***

There

were several strange cars parked outside the Malluri mansion. Alleria knew next to
nothing about cars, though these were all black and expensive looking. It was odd
for her benefactor to have guests at this time. Money didn't actually give people
freedom, they were bound by so many rules and restrictions that it was almost
surprising anyone ever yearned to become rich. Malluri's friends, who weren't
actually real friends, would never arrive without having planned it in advance and
without a particular cause in mind.

Alleria walked ahead with Cassel behind her, she began mounting the marble stairs
when a tall, dark, figure stepped in ahead of her, blocking her path. Her breath
caught in her throat before she realised who it is.

Willum looked odd, his face was pale and drawn, there were dark circles underneath
his eyes and his hair stuck out from his forehead in a way that suggested he had
ruffled it many times. His eyes were steely cold, though, and he glared darkly at
her through his wire-framed spectacles.

"You, least of all people, should be here." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper
but closer to a hiss.

"Minsuit said -"

"You're slow," Willum said in a flat voice. Alleria would have thought he sounded
bored if she could disregard how angry he looked. "Haven't you figured Minsuit out
already? Oh, that fink says many things, to many, many people."

"The Church -?"

"Priests are here, right now, but not for you. Not explicitly." Willum passed her,
and began walking down the stairs. He pulled keys out of his pocket. "I'm taking
you home."

Alleria

looked back, searching for Cassel, but he had vanished. She wondered if as a demon-
touched boy he had a mystical power that allowed him to disappear, or he was just
talented at sneaking away. "Who are they here for, if not for me?" she hurried to
follow Willum, lowering her voice to nearly a whisper.

"There's a known occultist operating in the empire. The Church has been given
sanction to act, so they act as they see fit." They approached the same car that
Cassel had used to bring Alleria here. Did Cassel have a copy of the keys? Did
Willum know that it went missing on occasion?

Willum was already inside the car turning the key in the ignition, Alleria hurried
into the seat at his side, slamming the door. "And what does that mean?" she asked.

"The only way to find an occultist -"

"Is with an exorcist," Alleria completed the sentence suddenly feeling numb. There
shouldn't be any exorcists in the world, not after what people had been subjected
to. The Purging had cost many innocent lives and had threatened to bring the entire
empire to ruin. Exorcisms were as illegal as occult rituals and arcane lore. But
unlike the other forbidden knowledges, exorcists wrote in blood and spoke in pain,
they prospered through torment and thrived on death.

"You know, so why behave like you don't?" Willum's hands were stiff and white on
the steering wheel as the electric gate slowly rolled open before them. Alleria
noticed movement from the corner of her eye and turned her head to find Cassel in
the back seat. He pressed his finger to his lips. Shhh...

But then, through the

rear window, she saw that several people had come out of the mansion. Men in long
deep-grey billowing robes trotting down the marble stairs - priests.

She ducked into her seat and out of view. Willum noticed her behaviour, his gaze
flashing to the rearview mirror and then fixing again on the painstakingly slow
gate. Neither of them spoke, Alleria held her breath.

The priests had noticed them, they began running towards the car. The first priest
began banging on Willum's window. Willum pursed his lips and pressed his foot down
on gas. The car darted forward, passing through an opening in the gate barely wide
enough to admit them. They turned with a screech of tires and sped down the road.

Several streets later, Alleria let go of the breath she had been holding.

They didn't speak until they were well away.

"I didn't know there was an imperial decree to give power to the Church, I wouldn't
have written the exam with my left hand if I did."

"You're behaving like a baby. You think the whole world is a dollhouse." Willum was
one of those people who didn't need to shout to sound mad. He used cold-cutting
tones that were so dry and level Alleria felt she was being skinned alive. "Go
home, lock the door, don't let strangers in. The danger is never over. Keep all
your secrets in a locked box on the highest shelf out of reach forever."

"How would you know about danger?" Alleria dug her fingers into the leather of the
seat. She felt frightened, but also peculiar, like none of this was real. "What are
you, Willum?"

"I'm no devil-spawn,

if that's what you're thinking."

"I didn't ask what you weren't, I asked what you are."

Willum stopped the car, they were outside her building. He turned to glare at her.
"Get out," he commanded.

She wanted to refuse, she wanted to argue, but she just didn't. The moment Alleria
closed the door of the car, it drove off and was gone. She blinked after it, that
had happened eerily fast.

Trudging over towards the blue gate, Alleria fumbled with her keys. The small
pedestrian door in the gate had been left ajar, probably old Mrs. Grupper who had
trouble remembering most things these days forgot to close it. Alleria made sure to
slam it closed behind her before crossing the courtyard and mounting the stairs to
their attic flat.

She unlocked the door and turned on the hall light, her parents still hadn't come
home from work, which was rare. She looked at the clock on the wall, they should
have been here by now, but sometimes there were urgent documents that had to be
written, sometimes there were administrative meeting in the Hand office that ran
late into the night. She hung her keys on the key-rack by the door and her purse on
the coatrack and made for her room, not bothering to turn on the living room light.

Her shoe crunched on something on the floor. She looked down at pieces of broken
porcelain, even in the poor light she recognised that gold rim and rose pattern -
Mam's fancy tea-set.

"Mam? Da?" Alleria cried.

It was foolish, she knew they weren't home.

She knew they weren't home, but there were other people in the flat with her.

Someone turned off

the light in the hall, just as someone else came into the living room from the
kitchen. The living room window overlooking the courtyard was open. Alleria ran to
it, "HELP!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, bracing herself against the
window-frame. "SOMEONE! HELP ME!"

She was pulled back by her throat with such force that she was halfway across the
room and on her knees in less than a second. She struggled to get to her feet when
the invisible attacker let go of her throat only to clutch her wrists and pull her
arms back. "Tie it tightly," said a man's high, yet calm voice in the darkness.
"It's no matter if you damage its skin."

"No!" Alleria cried, she could barely move against the man's grip as he wound a
stiff corn round her wrists. She had no strength of her own. "Don't do this!
Please! I'm only a girl, I've done nothing wrong."

"Don't listen to it," the owner of the voice was so calm, speaking as if it were
instructing on how to fix an ant problem. "Demons always lie."

"I'm not a demon."

"Lies," said the man. He strolled into her line of sight, a tall, lean figure in
the darkness. He walked closer, and then crouched down so that his face was level
with hers. He wasn't old, or ugly, or even vicious looking. He was the sort of man
you'd find working as a clerk in the bank, or perhaps an advocate or an accountant.
He had a professional air about him, and examined her like an architect examines
cracks in an old building.

The exorcist.

"Gag her," he commanded.

A crash and a bang coming from the hallway made the exorcist

look up in annoyance. The man tying her bonds stiffened. People were shouting - how
many of them were in the flat? With the sound of splinting furniture, something
came careening into the living room that was suddenly bathed in warm, flickering,
yellow candlelight.

The exorcist clicked his tongue and rose.

"Alleria!" Cassel called from a distance. She looked left and right, but couldn't
see the source of the light or the source of the voice anywhere. The man holding
her grunted and released her, she could feel Cassel's hands helping her to her
feet.

"Cassel -?"

"Hurry! I can't hold... I'm too weak." Cassel's invisible hand gave her a shove
towards the door.

A flash of silver, the exorcist pulled out a small knife. He passed the blade along
the centre of his palm, his brows knit with concentration. Then he made a fist out
of his cut palm and allowed his blood to drip down toward the floor. But the
droplets of blood never reached the floor, they each began to glow, a pinpoint of
reddish light, and hovered in the air. Then, one after the other, they gathered
forming a circle of red light that opened wider and wider until it encompassed the
whole room.

"Destroy." commanded the exorcist. The circle tightened, closing in and wherever it
passed, the candlelight vanished.

Cassel screamed.

And screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

It was the sort of scream one revisited in nightmares, the kind of sound that even
time and experience can't make you forget. Alleria felt as if her heart would burst
out of her throat, all the blood in her body seemed to stop at her stomach as her
bones shook to the tune of Cassel's pain.

Then, it stopped.

On the floor beside her, in the wreckage that had once been her family's living
room, the prone and crumpled body of a boy blinked into existence.

Now, Alleria screamed.

But hers was a short-lived scream, for her downed attacker had risen again. He
choked at her throat from behind.

And all became dark.

=================

Prologue

Dear readers,

The Prologue to "Alleria" has been moved as a separate short story. The story can
now be easily read without it or - if you so choose - you can go to my profile and
find it there.

I hope you had an enjoyable read

Einaty
=================

BONUS CHAPTER // The Square Root Of "I Love You": Part One

A/N - Dearest readers. This is the first of a series of short bonus chapters
depicting parts of the story that we just couldn't see due to it all being from
Alleria's POV. This one is written from Mr. Wayne Tinpoint's POV. I don't know how
often I'll be able to post these, probably every two-three weeks. There will be a
story starring Johannes, one starring Zalee Salah and at least one story about
Cassel. But I promise that the last bonus chapter in this series will be about
Alleria and Dagen [insert squealing here].

Anyway, I hope you love this one!

Love you all to bits,

Einaty

The Square Root of "I Love You"

Part One: She Smiled

Wayne Tinpoint threw down his pen and hissed at the smudged ink on the paper. He
brushed his stained fingers into his curly hair, bunching them into fists as his
frustration almost made his head explode. Working with someone like Scholar
Bellencreek was enough to send a sane man straight into an asylum. Wayne didn't
know how sane he actually was anymore, all he knew was that he couldn't, he just
couldn't. continue doing these proofs tonight even for a second more.

Bellencreek hated doing proofs and she avoided them to the point where it almost
became ridiculous. She was always hopping forward and was almost frightfully
diligent in everything until it came to doing proofs. All that fell on Wayne, as if
he didn't have his share of the work cut out for him already.

With a groan due to his painfully stiff back, he rose from his chair, placing the
lid on the inkwell and making a feeble attempt to straighten out his

wrinkled shirt before picking up his battered briefcase. A huge yawn ripped through
his mouth as he ambled from the dining room and opened the front door of the suite
only to find someone standing in the doorway.

He froze with his mouth still open wide at the end of his yawn and his hand
clutching the doorknob. The girl in the doorway stood frozen as well, her blue eyes
so wide they were almost perfect circles and her lips pressed shut in a thin line.

Wayne closed his mouth with a snap. It was the red-headed servant girl that had
called him out the other day for his sorry habit of always addressing her by a
wrong name. Now, after she pointed out his obviously rude oversight, he felt
perfectly awkward around her.

At least now he'd never forget that her name was Gina.

It wasn't that he needed any more reasons to feel awkward around attractive young
women. It was a blessing that, to his eyes, Bellencreek was as attractive as his
Great Aunt Peppy.
"Er, um, I," he said, sounding the bumbling fool he felt he currently was. "Miss...
Gina." A quick little smile stretched his mouth before his tense facial muscles
ironed it away.

"Mr. Tinpoint," Gina replied shrilly, her cheeks growing even rosier, like the
colour of the sunset in the autumn.

"Yes," he said, his voice an octave or two too high.

"Is Scholar Bellencreek in?"

He licked his lips, noting how she avoided looking at his face. He didn't know
which part of him was worse, his clothes or his face. He knew that most women had
the right idea about his appearance and wrinkled their noses with disgust when

they saw the ink and coffee stains on his shirt or the his gaunt cheeks with the
lack of sleep etched in dark circles underneath his eyes. "I'm afraid... she's
out," he said, feeling his ears burn.

"I see," Gina whispered, bowing gingerly. "Well, I better..."

Wayne cleared his throat. "Miss Gina," he said.

Well, actually, he shouted. He didn't mean to, his voice echoed through the entire
tower. She bristled at the sound, almost as if he slapped her.

"I mean," he said in a much quieter voice, feeling his heartbeat quicken and the
sudden urge to run far, far away, "Miss Gina?"

"Yes?" The apprehension was all too clear.

"I would like to... can I.... may I...."

She looked up into his face for the first time, her eyes meeting his. It felt very
strange, because she was not only prettier when she looked directly at him, but she
also seemed wistful and made him feel remarkably confused. He gaped at her for a
very long moment in silence.

"Mr. Tinpoint?" she asked. "You were saying?"

Her voice knocked him back into reality. He shook his head trying to make the
thoughts inside it firmer. "I'm sorry I got your name wrong all those time. It
wasn't intentional. I was simply a...a... a jerk."

She took a step back, her face growing even redder. "No, no, don't apologise, I'm
sorry for my outburst -"

"It was perfectly justified!" he cried. "You deserve to have your name known.
You're clearly a...a....a remarkable woman, I know Scholar Bellencreek is terribly
fond of you and-"

"D-don't trouble yourself. I shouldn't have -"

All this

time, and their gazes were still locked. It was oddly invigorating, and so
unexpected. "I'm glad you did, it finally gave me an excuse to talk to you," he
blurted out.
She sucked in a breath, her palms coming together to clutch each other tightly.

What did he just say?

Would it be too much to hope for his existence to end right now? "I'm sorry, I'm so
sorry, I said something inappropriate." He knew that nothing can erase words that
had been spoken.

But suddenly, she smiled.

She smiled.

Wayne felt his legs grow weak as his heart suddenly hammered much faster than
should be humanly possible.

"In that case," she said, looking down at her toes. "I'm glad I shouted at you,
too."

***

She smiled.

The next day, Wayne sat by the table and looked down at the equation he was
copying. He lifted the pen letting it rest gently between his fingers. Her teeth
were beautifully straight and white, and the glowing rosy colour of her cheeks
along with the twinkle in her eyes seemed to light his mind.

He sighed.

She smiled.

It was unusual for Wayne's mind to have anything but numbers inside it. And yet,
after dinner in the gentlemen's lounge, there was her smile again. Amidst the
coarse laughter of middle-aged men and the foul stench of pipe smoke, like a spring
morning her face appeared in his mind's eye.

He smiled too when he remembered.

She smiled.

"So, is it true, McLark?"

"What? The servants?" said Prestin McLark over breakfast the next morning. He was
one of the academic assistants

of the First Paramount, Lord Dagen, and thought that made him more entitled than
the other assistants. "You bet. They keep the good looking ones for Ortkerry tower.
I don't know how you lot in the main building survive."

"Tell them about Matilda," croaked Vynn Garuq, assistant of the third Paramount.
"How well she served you under the table."

The group howled with laughter that was too loud for the early morning. Several
people turned to stare. Wayne cringed. How could such imbeciles become academic
assistants? They were in the dining room reserved for staff and most of the people
who ate here were servants. He could feel how all other conversations died out as a
hundred pairs of eyes secretly glared over their breakfasts.
"Then there was old Carim who got to tap that lovely brunette Esella," Garuq
continued, oblivious to the people who were listening.

McLark mockingly rolled his eyes. "He wouldn't shut up about it for weeks."

"But lads, the best ones, the absolutely jaw dropping girls," Garuq said, lowering
his voice, "are the house keeper's assistants."

"We call them the squirrel girls," McLark intervened. "Ah, what I'd give to have a
taste of Amelia."

Garuq sighed theatrically. "Or just let me touch that remarkable bosom of hers."

"There's also that red-headed one," said Neterel Jem, assistant of Mr. Kempett,
Second Paramount. "What was her name?"

"Gina!" Garuq gasped excitedly.

McLark wore a a look of true ecstasy. "I swear to you lads, one of these days I
will grab that beautiful ginger ass of her -"

"You

will do no such thing!" Wayne was on his feet and his shout echoed throughout the
dining room. "I won't sit by and hear such vulgar talk! The servants of Ortkerry
tower are all upstanding members of society and talking about them this way is
unacceptable. Have you no shame? You call yourselves gentlemen."

"Relax, Tinny," drawled Emad Huffenger, another assistant of the Second Paramount.
He wore a scowl that Wayne was used to seeing. They all treated Wayne like he was
some sort of leper. "They're just servants. This sort of thing is part of the job
description."

"That reflects very poorly on your character if that's what you believe," snapped
Wayne. Yes, he wanted to run out of there as fast as his legs could carry him, but
an even stronger part of himself made him stay firmly on the spot. He couldn't and
wouldn't back down. "You would be wise to apologise to everyone present for
destroying their breakfast with your foul conversation."

Garuq and McLark both turned pale as they realised that they were just a small
group in the midst of most of the High Academy's servant population. The hostility
directed at them was now open and tangible.

Only Huffenger wouldn't back down. "Look at little Tinny, acting all high and
mighty while we all know how well you serve your teenaged ball of wonder. It's all
about service, Tinny, it's all about service."

Wayne was more than appraised on the outrageous joke going around among the
academic assistants about the nature of the relationship between himself and
Scholar Bellencreek.

"Huffenger," Jem warned from

the corner of his mouth as the other academic assistants began throwing down their
forks and napkins and shuffling out of the dining room.

"I'm not finished," Huffenger got up, glaring at Wayne and sizing him up with
unmasked disdain. "I just can't stand it when garbage starts thinking that it's
behaving chivalrously. You think you're doing anyone a favour, Tinny? That this
makes you look good? What, do you actually think they don't know how their own
world works? A well trained servant girl equals opening her legs to those who have
power and position. You're just embarrassing yourself right now, laddie."

"Mr. Huffenger, how dare you -" Wayne began. Their table was empty now, and a
handsome, elderly woman was stalking towards them with her mouth fixed into a grim
line.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, nodding at Wayne and then glaring right at Mr.
Huffenger. "I'm Borella Sunsar, Head of Household. Mr. Huffenger, please follow me,
the board of discipline would like to have a word with you on matters of decorum."

Huffenger's scowl only deepened, and he shot Wayne a look that was heavy with
violence.

But regardless of that, Huffenger followed Mrs. Sunsar, and for the first time in
his life, the last man left standing was Wayne Tinpoint. He felt heat course up to
his face and an air of perfect awkwardness settled on him as he noticed that the
assembled servants were still staring at him. He bowed his head, reaching over for
his briefcase. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"Bravo!" someone shouted and then the clapping started. A few single patters at
first, joined by the chorus of a hundred pairs of hands. Wayne couldn't quite blink
his eyes when he looked up and found them all standing on their feet.

It was a divinely embarrassing morning, all of it. Wayne shivered as he repeatedly

mumbled his thanks and apologised.

Divinely embarrassing, but also, one of the proudest moment of his sorry life.

And then he remembered her face.

She smiled.

Dare he hope that someday, maybe, she would smile at him again? It was so stupid,
and yet, she smiled once, that certainly increased the probability of it happening
a second time.

A/N - W00t W00t Tinpoint! Look at him go! He's our man!

=================

Bonus - Encounters

A/N - As per a few requests, here are the words of "Encounters".

Encounters

You are the wind

The ripples

In the chilly pond

You are the one

The brightest

The vagabond

You are the twilight

The quills

Of the nightingale

You are the last

The fallen

The failed

... Near, yet far

Here, yet gone

Shadows of the woods

The distance in the mist

On the margins

On the stitches

In the doorways

On the bridges

Come to me...

Come to me,

Come to me,

When I call,

You shall come to me

Come to me,

Come to me,

I summon

Ye shall rise for me

You are the rain

The fire
On the candlewick

You are the shadow

My liar

My heir

You are the truth

The reflection

Of my eyes

You are the new

The child

The devil

... Near, yet far

Here, yet gone

Shadows of the woods

The distance in the mist

On the margins

On the stitches

In the doorways

On the bridges

Come to me...

Come to me,

Come to me,

When I call,

You shall come to me

Come to me,

Come to me,

I summon

Ye shall rise for me

=================
More by Einat Segal

Seeing how you've read through this book to the very end, perhaps you're curious to
know what books I've written, what I'm working on and what I intend to write in the
near future. .

My Monster - Completed

Sophie Green is so antisocial that she might be a sociopath. Her mission in life is
to survive high school without murdering someone. Senior year is starting and Shawn
Henderson, the class heartthrob and bad boy regent, suddenly announces that he will
win Sophie's heart (and virginity) by Christmas. This sets the viperous and popular
Ashley Glick and her cronies on Sophie faster than anyone can blink.

Enter Landon Pearce - the new kid. Fresh off the plane from Australia, he's tan and
so handsome that even Sophie finds it hard to look away.

He's shrouded in mystery, yet impossible to resist. But what will Sophie do when
she discovers that his dark and dangerous past is filled with monsters?

Undefined - Book 1 of "The Zephyr" - COMPLETED

Untouchable. Stone. Jewel - these are some of the names used for people who are
born with a gemstone at the centre of their forehead. This unfortunate phenomenon
cannot be detected before birth, it cannot be prevented, if a family has a Jewelled
child, there is only one outcome:

Before they're sixteen, they will have to leave human society forever and serve
"the Zephyr".

Among the Jewels there are those who have it worse. Those who sport clear diamonds
on their foreheads, the Undefined.

The downtrodden, the unlucky - the doomed.

Cello Riles and Syianne Locke are both Undefined. On their sixteenth birthday,
they each leave their homes and travel across the country to the Zephyr, attempting
to go into service. Though aside from the place, or thing, that will take them from
human society forever - what is the Zephyr?

There are only questions promised, only shadowy riddles guaranteed. Yet faced with
no other choice they must venture forth and plunge into the unknown - the Zephyr

Rat - COMPLETED

The King's magician, Harlock Cooper, the greatest magician that ever lived - has
just died.

Now it's in the hands of the aged and weary Grand Magic Master, Wenward Marning, to
scour the kingdom and find a suitable replacement in time to prevent a war. He sets
out on the task with the knowledge that he can never find anyone as great as
Harlock Cooper - Or can he?

Marning meets Rat, a curious, rough-tempered street boy with a particularly keen
talent for magic. Torn by grief, rage and the desire for revenge, Rat reluctantly
places his loyalties to his street family aside and focuses on becoming the
kingdom's magical champion. However, there is more to Rat than meets the eye, and
he is the only one who can uncover who - or what - he truly is.

Together, Rat and Marning, boy and elder, work through their differences as they
face a slowly unraveling web of conspiracy, treason, betrayal and revenge: and
along with it, the dark reality of a terrible curse coming their way.

Wonderwall - Book 2 of "The Zephyr" - Ongoing

To be on one of the Zephyr teams is the most prestigious position a Jewel could
hope for. Cello and Syianne have been designated to join Leolan's team, but first
they have to undergo training and pass a difficult and somewhat life-threatening
examination. In order to move forward, they must also learn to understand their
unusual brand of grey magic - which proves to be erratic and even dangerous.

And just when things coulrdn't get any worse, jealousy, romance and a dark
conspiracy bring about a terrible catastrophe that threatens to destroy everything
they have accomplished..