September 29th, 2015

"Whenever you're ready."

Mesteno hadn?t even finished speaking when Lexius shot forward across the trampled lawn to strike at him.

It was early evening, and as he often did, Lexius had come to play tutor. He?d persisted in resuming their lessons as soon as they?d recovered physically from the rigours of their journey to rescue Aiden, an exercise which benefited his student as much mentally as it did physically.

The Elf?s movements were stunningly quick, the precise jabs of the dual wielded training sticks a rapid succession which allowed no room for slacking on the part of his student. It had been months before Lexius had permitted sparring, no matter how quick a study Mesteno proved to be. Every basic movement he required performing to perfection, every stance and step pedantically corrected until the training sticks sang. Now, he pressed him viciously, striking with intent to make him regret every slip.

There was a prize to be won, and Lexius meant it to be hard earned. Not far from where the pair fought, a handcrafted pair of darkly stained, metal banded sticks rested enticingly in a bed of muslin cloth. Lexius had carved them for one pair of hands only, weight, balance and reach particular to his student.

Mesteno had wanted them without even touching them. Or perhaps he?d simply wanted to prove himself. As quick as he was, as skilled with a blade, he?d never yet managed to touch the Elf with the training sticks. Now, he fought with undisguised aggression, fending off Lexius? blows and boldly offering his own offensive, striding across the flattened grass barefoot and steady.

In time, both became aware they had an audience.

Beneath the dappled shade of a tree, Gem observed the pair with a faint smile tilting her lips. She did nothing to call attention to herself, but moved unobtrusively from the treeline toward the porch of Mesteno?s dilapidated cabin where the prize waited on a shabby table.

The bout continued for long minutes, Lexius abandoning all pretence at playing fair, wielding his psionic abilities to send his opponent?s weapons off course of their targets, and then crowding him to force a retreat.

Foul mouthed (Gem?s jaw dropped at what he dared call the Elf), goading, Mesteno only encouraged him, furiously defending until an opportune moment permitted assault. Lexius? choice to abandon the rules sparked a predictable preternatural counter spun of shadows reaching to trip swift, elven feet, but it was when Lexius vanished entirely, and reappeared behind his unprepared challenger to strike him soundly in the spine that Gem finally called out her support.

"Oh! Cheater!" It couldn?t be helped that she inwardly approved of his tactics, but she?d plainly picked her side. "I won't slice the Elf's hamstring for you, Mesteno! Get in there and smack him hard!"

Growling, more for permitting Lexius to land a blow than due to any pain, Mesteno spun to guard against further strikes and dug deep, using reserves of energy he rarely had to tap to fight back with a ferocity that could be truly frightening. Lips peeled back, snarling, he fought Lexius into the trees until he could beckon their aid, but the dextrous desert creature evaded the whiplash of their limbs, and rolled beneath another well aimed swing.

?Aye.? Lexius murmured it, almost so quietly it went unheard, but there was nothing but approval for his student?s determination in that single, softly uttered word. It was a moment later than the tattoos littering his arms flashed, intending to dazzle Mesteno?s sensitive eyes.

Despite the brilliance of it, the next ankle-aimed swing of the Elf?s sticks struck nothing but air as Mesteno deftly hopped over them and brought his own weapons down sharply toward the back of Lexius? head, forgetting entirely to keep his attack friendly. It was only several lifetimes? worth of training and natural speed that saved the elven skull and left a shoulder crunching under the weight of the strike instead.

Lexius danced back, away, one stick held up and across his body, eyes narrowed intently. His second stick had vanished, and he was flashing teeth in a hard smile. "Done." He announced.

Gem sucked in a breath and rose from where she?d sat, ready to help if such was needed. Her concern was obvious, furrowing her brows as she studied Lexius.

There was no adequate way to describe the feeling of success Mesteno experienced after several long months of training and never being able to land a single blow. Doubtless it made him eager to pursue for a second, a third strike, and he was after him like a hound with the taste of blood on its tongue, the flash of his gold-shot eyes uncommonly bright. After a moment though, he did stall in his forward motion, but it was not because Lexius had declared their match done. It was due to the particular absence of one of the Elf's weapons, which he'd been watching for so intently before then.

"Ah-- shit, did I get you?" He meant badly.

The Elf's smile vanished, though he didn't completely relax just yet. "Enough to earn your reward."

"I'll be sure'n get you better next time then," Mesteno told him brightly. He did flash him a smile though, quicksilver in its brevity before he angled a nod towards the porch and its petite occupant.

Gem remained there when it seemed Lexius didn?t require the aid of her healing, but it was not long before she was turning their attention from the matter of prizes to the cause for her visit, and neither Mesteno nor his injured opponent protested given the urgency of her words.

"While I hate to interrupt this lovely sparring, and would love to participate sometime if you please, I...think I am in trouble, Mesteno." She?d a look he knew well. There was not a doubt in his mind that the trouble she spoke of required a capital T. "I don't know what to do." Her hands were wringing together as they sometimes did when she was uncertain, the knuckles white with the strength of her grip. "You might be able to help. And, hell, if Lex knows something on the subject, his advice would be well received, too."

Gem's words eradicated any lingering scraps of smile Mesteno wore, and he set his sticks down in the hammock before approaching her, faintly sweat-clammy hands already reaching for her shoulders as if he meant to hold her still to examine her, brow etched with the bars of a frown.

"What'd you do? Who's after you?"

Lexius tucked his remaining stick under his hanging arm, and pressed his palm over one of his myriad geometric tattoos. When he lifted that hand away, the tattoo was gone, and he stepped into motion after Mesteno, gaze slanted to watch the interaction between him and Gem. He said nothing, but he was lingering there and listening.

Gem had pulled in a breath as Mesteno gripped her shoulder. Too frail. Her pearly teeth bit down on her bottom lip but she did meet his gaze.

"Well, I've been ailing a bit. Nothing really dreadful. Nothing really fast. It started back before the bairn was born. I thought I'd got rid of whatever it was. But then...well. Things have been happening." She held her breath for a moment before continuing quietly. "I found wards carved into the stone walls surrounding Quellarin, spaced out at half-mile intervals. I researched the pattern and... It?s death magic. I think a witch rather than a necromancer, but I don't know enough to be able to tell. And..." Oh, but there was more coming.

Gathering his beads up, Lexius levelled an intent look on the pair. The mention of death magic had his attention, but he still said nothing.

"I found more of those markings inside. I think it means one of my staff has turned on me. Maybe Bart. He's the only one I have trouble with." Never mind the ex-pirate who sounded his cannon off the rooftop every night at moonrise. Never mind the ex-poisoner chef or the ex-con financier who handled her books and all important details. The list could go on. "I found something in the trash." She proffered the crumpled paper to Mesteno, who took it wordlessly and did not protest when Lexius stepped in behind him to examine it over his shoulder.

"Do you often go through your trash?? Lexius asked simply.

Gem gave a little chuckle. "No, though I do frequently go through other people's. I dropped a ring and thought it had fallen into the trash can in my bathroom. I found that in there."

Lexius nodded, but asked no more questions. Not just yet. And since Mesteno was so nicely distracted, he splayed his hand over that spot his stick had landed on the man's spine, fingertips barely brushing skin at the top of his neck. Nosey and pushy. He bent his will to enact a little more healing as he listened, but found his task made difficult when Mesteno played eel, wary of what the hand might stumble across.

You killed my mother, bitch. Don't think you won't pay. The note was signed simply "Terrel's Scion".

"I remember her.? Mesteno murmured. ?She was that crazy bitch from about twelve years back. Blackmailing you and threatened you with all sorts of perverse shit. Have you taken on any new staff over the years??

He pressed her as if to direct her towards one of the shabby garden chairs there, and Gem let him to begin with, but drifted to a halt before sitting as he and Lexius looked at the note. Silver brows furrowed as she nodded slowly.

"Yes. The new maids. Bart won't keep his hands off them, and so none of them stay for above a few weeks. I have a constantly rotating...." She paled as she considered what an idiot she had been. They would be given the code to get in and out of the very well protected manor, naturally. "But they are vetted before they are hired. Joseph handles that..." She let out a hissed breath. "I can tell you now that if it is Joseph I am fucked, and not in a good way. He knows all of my business." Her hands fluttered in little graceful arabesques. "But the real problem in all this is that Jewel and Nyx spend time there. I won't let them, now, and what if I can't get this hex off me? If I die, that leaves you and Rei with Jewel and Jack, Ben and Lir with Nyx." She was distracted. Tired. "You are still the executor of my will, chev." Because he needed to know that. She'd died once already.

On the whole, he was a perceptive creature. Rarely surprised, and often shrewd to the point of irritating the subjects of his observations, it was difficult to imagine him oblivious to anything. And yet he had been, and likely always would be, caught floundering by interest that was not of a platonic kind. Come October, months since he?d parted ways with his lover of nearly three years, he?d remained celibate, settled into the safe stagnation of living unattached, and unprepared to consider that there might be other options.

In his defence, the interest had come from an unexpected party, and had not been announced. The single, suspect incident which might have offered a scrap of forewarning too vague.

"You got pockets full of creature bits for me?" he?d asked Lexius one afternoon at Sanctuary. It was shortly after their return from Nidavellir. The Elf had diligently sampled many of the creatures meant to deter them, and Mesteno had extracted a promise that these would be shared.

Up until that point, Lexius had been smiling, but the expression became edged, and his blue-violet eyes had dropped glinting to the turtleneck Mesteno was wearing that afternoon.

"I do. The most recently taken from the inn." He?d answered, lifting his eyes again.

"From the inn?" Genuinely puzzled, Mesteno hadn't connected the dots. "Well, what is it? Anything new is always welcome."

The Elf had stared for a long, breathless kind of moment as he tried to decide whether Mesteno was acting particularly well that day, or if he really hadn't picked up on his meaning. "This sample is not from something new." And then he?d reached out to hook his fingers around the top of Mesteno?s turtleneck and tug it down.

There had been no effort to intercept Lexius' hand. Mesteno was entirely too trusting of him by then, but his eyes had widened as the neckline came down far enough to reveal the tell-tale wounds. They were not the neat, deep puncture wounds usually associated with the bite of kindred. He'd pulled away before Sinjin had been able to skewer his throat with them neatly - two stunted slices remained, scabbed over, with minor bruising that had already begun to fade.

Instead of babbling excuses, or demanding to know immediately who'd tattled (he'd figured that out fast enough, Halcyon had been the only one there) he?d laughed. Not one of those quiet, murmur-low sounds he muted himself to in public, but a bright, undiluted sound, just a little rough like velvet rubbed the wrong way.

"Y'know what? I wasn't even wearin' this to hide them," he?d told Lexius candidly. "Honest t'God coincidence. Did you really get samples somehow?"

Lexius let go the sweater, satisfied the damage was healing well enough. Mollified. "Hmmm." was his only reply to the explanation. "I did. Vampire blood is usually... uncooperative, but I managed to salvage and separate enough of it, I think, for you to toy with." He held up the vial. It was half full of refined plasma. "What is your... relationship with him?" He truly was trying to keep out of it, but the entire thing had tweaked him.

Having settled into a lazy lean against the railing of his porch, Mesteno watched patiently as he revealed the grisly sample haul. A leather roll unfurled across one of the distasteful garden chairs.

"Sin?s one of my brother's lovers," he explained. "But before that ever began, he was my friend. There was a time we were linked because of what you're holdin' right there," he wagged a finger toward the vial, and did not explain the past tense. "Dynamic shifted a little after I got more involved with the necromancy, for obvious reasons. He likes to bait me, because he knows I'll hurt him, and we both enjoy that."

Lexius had very nearly frowned, but he?d smoothed it away and tucked the vial back into the roll. That unbound leather contained quite a few of them, all meticulously labelled. Plasma, blood, flesh, stone. All kinds of samples that he'd collected from their journey through the Planes. He stepped away from it with a gesture that Mesteno could claim them and processed the information in silence.

All of it, no, none of it was his concern, he?d decided. "Very well." He hadn?t asked for more details.

Weeks had passed.

The discussion had been forgotten entirely (at least by the oblivious necromancer) and another evening had come, spent on that same porch, occupied in much the same manner. It was not so very long since Gem had asked their aid, and Lexius had healed rapidly from the injury he?d sustained, challenging Mesteno to win the sticks.

"Why were you sorry to have hit me that hard?" The Elf had asked, never mind that Mesteno had already told him why.

Confused by the need to answer again, Mesteno rested a forearm against the railing and studied him. After a moment, and a slow blink, he obliged anyway. "Lack of control isn't something I?m proud of, particularly 'round someone who values it. I don't want you lookin' at me like I'm undisciplined, or bein' disappointed. And I hurt you." He knew he had. "While I know a great many people who'd appreciate that, I don't think you're one of them."

"I find you neither undisciplined nor disappointing." Lexius had assured, and with no little amount of gravity. "And while I find no pleasure in receiving pain, you should not allow that to limit your potential. Neither one of us will learn what it truly is if you hold back." All very sensible, logical, rational. Then he?d asked something completely off the wall. "Do you enjoy giving pain in everything?"

"Are you asking if I like to give pain when I'm..?? Prudishly, Mesteno refused to say it.

"When you have sex." Lexius finished and confirmed, watching him intently.

"Yes." Finally. "But it's swings 'n roundabouts where that-- I mean sex" there, he said it too, still taken aback that Lexius of all people was broaching the subject, "is concerned. Inhibitions are a turn off. I encourage whoever I'm doin' it with to be equally as rough. Not that they usually are but?" He?d trailed off. "Why?"

It?d been the initial, awkward exchanges of a conversation far more personal than Mesteno had ever expected to share with Lexius. Having established that their tastes were more than a little conflicting, Lexius? frank answers to the necromancer?s questions about his personal life had been surprisingly intriguing, and his lamentations about past choices something Mesteno could grimly share in.

"You don't get to choose," Mesteno had been saying with his usual bluntness. "Attraction happens, you'll see a face, learn a mind, it'll be there and become a torment until you act on it. You might deny yourself, make yourself even more miserable by doing it, but desire chooses for you more often than not."

Lexius? confession had not been immediately in the wake of that resigned statement, but it had come.

"You are my type, Mesteno." So far as the Elf was concerned, he?d filled some very specific criteria. Having dropped that bomb, he dared continue, making matters worse. "And I am finding myself? becoming somewhat possessive. When Sinjin put his fangs in you, I found I disliked the idea not merely because he is a vampire, but because it is you he put them into. I am not suggesting anything, simply informing you of this,? he paused to choose the word, ?difficulty."

"I'm findin' this difficult to understand,? Mesteno had murmured after what was far too long, and during which the Elf had sat grinding his teeth, internally damning himself for mentioning it. ?Help me figure this out. You, despite knowin' I?m a sexual sadist, that I can hardly deal with takin' my clothes off in front of people, and that you would be the one belly down, with my teeth in your throat, still consider me ?your type??"

He didn't touch on the fact that Lexius was plainly still deeply emotionally distraught over Koyan, or the obvious distress of his own over Evander that made him feel a twist of guilt over even thinking about bedding someone else. Yet he?d decided then to look at him. To try and see beyond the friendship, beyond their occasional student and teacher dynamic. Instead he examined him with new intention, stripped of his carefully self-imposed mental boundaries, beyond which Lexius had existed quite safely.

He considered Lexius handsome. It was not something he?d been unaware of, but due to the Elf?s very nature, his stoicism and carefully maintained personal boundaries, he?d never once considered him sexually. How easily that pre-conception of him as a being disinterested in sex snuffed out after a single conversation. There was nothing innocent about the way in which Mesteno studied him then.

"Not completely." Lexius allowed. "Nor, as I said, am I suggesting anything."

Repetition. For both of them.

"I know you're not suggestin' anything," Mesteno reassured, gesturing the notion away, "I know, I'm supposed to just sit 'n be aware 'n let you figure it out yourself. Then you can find a way to persuade yourself you were safer not bein' interested in anyone, and you got it all under control, right?"

The Elf had turned from him, too aware of the new regard. Uncomfortable with the fact that part of him liked it.

?It is something you should be aware of," Lexius spoke to the dark, "and something I will master. Your life is your own, and complicated enough without my...idiosyncrasies." And then, more harshly. "Stop looking at me like that." An order.

It was ill thought out, but stealthy on his feet as he was, it was no great feat for Mesteno to be propping up the wall one moment, and right there, beside Lexius the next. There was no physical contact, no reaching for him, but there was little more than a hand's span between them.

"How would you like me to look at you then?" He was pushing his luck, asking for another psionically induced gust of wind to catch him in the gut, or to put the Elf in a foul mood. In truth, he was curious to see how, when he could barely stand being close to someone, even putting up walls to deter contact, he'd cope with even the most minor of invasions of personal space.

Lexius could have prevented it. He didn't need to be looking at Mesteno to know precisely where he was positioned. He hardly needed to see anyone, really, to deter an attempt at getting too close. But there was nothing. Nothing but a slanted, penetrating look for daring to push.

Reckless, yes. Strong willed. Displaying the traits he found appealing hadn?t helped the matter! It prompted the next impromptu words that left his lips.

"Look at me as the one who will make you take it again." It sounded a promise made with conviction.

He heard himself, though, because Mesteno?s prediction came true. The air shoved the Sadist back, intended to push him right back into the wall he?d originally been leaning against. Instead the stubborn necromancer slapped a hand down on the railing, grasped tight, and conceded a single step.

"If you persist I will wipe the memory of this conversation from your mind." Then Lexius did sound angry, had felt angry. And that was the reason he?d suddenly paused and seemed to look inward. Was that real? He wasn't sure.

"No you won't," Mesteno told him, sounding entirely too confident of the fact. "'Cause that'd be unforgiveable and you damn well know it. I trusted you enough to let you in my head, you play nice in it."

"No. I will not." Lexius agreed, serene once again, at least on the outside.

Mesteno however, was busy considering his own hypocrisy. Lexius had confided, lowered his guard, and he'd been taking advantage of the fact to push. It was his turn to angle a look out across the woodland, the sharp lines of his profile half hidden behind the usual unruly red river of hair.

"I'll try not to look at you," he?d finally allowed magnanimously.

"Very well." The Elf agreed, as if that had been the only correct response Mesteno should offer. Mesteno hadn?t been in the least surprised when he?d changed the subject as if the previous conversation had never happened at all. "I have books for you."

But of course, things had changed.

October 5th, 2015.

It was not back to Mesteno?s cabin that Lexius had taken the kidnapped necromancer. Instead, he?d spent more precious energy taking them further afield, caring nothing for permission, and it was in his desert home that they?d emerged, hand still clamped tight to his shoulder. He knew the man was entertaining the idea of following whatever trails he'd found on Gem's property. Alone. That seemed to be unacceptable. At the very least, he'd intended making it a more difficult thing to accomplish.

They appeared in the main room, and the Elf immediately tightened his grip on the Sadist's shoulder as the heat and the dry washed over them in equal measure. Just helping to keep the guy upright.

For Mesteno, the world reeled, he reeled, grasping outward for anything to brace himself against, and when there was no handy wall to seek for balance, he had no choice but to squeeze his eyes shut, lock his knees and hope the hand gripping fast to his shoulder didn't fail him. Thankfully, the dizziness never lasted overlong.

Fading fingers of light crept in through the yawning opening overlooking the sandstone valley. The sun was already well on its way to sinking into the horizon, though the sight of it was masked by all those cliff walls out there. Lexius spoke with the grit still in his voice. "Gem offered sound advice."

"You shouldn't have done that," Mesteno grimaced, straightening slowly. "I hadn't even checked the girl's body. And you! The fuck?re you doin'!? You shouldn't be wasting energy after what that thing did to you." What had it done? He didn't know. But he'd seen Lexius stagger, and that was bad.

Lexius knew he shouldn't have done it. There was no sane, logical reason for him to hold up as an excuse, either, other than the fact he absolutely could not bring himself to allow Mesteno to go out hunting whatever this was alone. No, nothing rational in that at all. When had his hand slipped to curl those long fingers around the back of the Sadist's neck? He couldn't remember (and that was BAD!) but he caught himself at it. Caught himself standing too close (to help the man maintain his balance, he argued internally!) Well, Mesteno had it now, so the Elf stepped back and let go.

"She will keep the body for you." He grasped onto that first part, finding some logic in there somewhere. "And Pharlen will take her where she will be safe. Whatever this is, is strong in its powers. Strong enough to wrest an Ammit from Anubis' control and corrupt it to its own use." And that was nothing to scoff at! "I will recover here. Are you well?" He'd been trying with everything else not to ask that last question, yet there it was, tacked on anyway. If the beads hadn?t been wrapped up and gunky, they'd probably have been snickering their little, wooden asses off.

Mesteno studied him closely, his regard one of stern assessment, looking for any scrap of fatigue or dullness to eyes which had been so bitingly bright during the confrontation.

"She's not safe anywhere so long as she's being drained the way she is," he retorted, though it was the low mutter of a man who'd grudgingly accepted that he wasn't going to have things his own way. He'd studied Anubis in the past of course, as any necromancer would have worth his salt, but he didn't, for once, go prying for more information on the demon. He was just watching Lexius with a frown instead.

Was he well? Sleep deprived, drained and hungry, but the worst he'd suffered physically that day was a splinter. Everything was what he might consider a minor aggravation. But Lexius...

Mesteno gave him no warning, he reached out a hand and pushed him, not exactly roughly, but not gently either, right against his breastbone. Time to see how poorly he'd fared! Whether he'd stagger.

The gleam of Lexius gaze was dulled and the pallor under his normally tanned skin might still be present, but Lexius didn't seem to have lost much in the way of quickness. Strangely, his reaction was physical rather than mental. That alone might be an indication of something.

His hand came up to catch Mesteno's there at his chest, giving it a twist and a tug in a rather classic, hand-to-hand counter move against such an assault even as he was pushed back. He caught himself within two steps, grimacing, but that didn't stop him from using his hold to shove back, forcing Mesteno into a back-step.

"Well enough to be ornery, I see." There was a growl in the Elf?s voice that held a certain measure of pain to it. The beads rattled their agitation.

"I was testing your balance," Mesteno countered smoothly, "not being ornery. Normally you'd be quick enough I wouldn't even get chance to do that. That... Ammit thing did a real number on you. The beads don't hop up 'n defend you without damn good cause."

"Very well." Lexius murmured, the shove forgiven, and stalked toward that little kitchen area on the far side of the cave. "You need to eat." That was what Lexius was most concerned over. Mesteno was energy drained, had promised days ago he would fix it. Yet there he was, still lacking. "You will do that before we go out on this again." A demand.

After a moment, Mesteno pursed his lips and gave a short, sharp, acquiescing nod. He'd go and feed before they pursued things further. If they found the culprit, it would be better to be strong enough to take them down in one hard hitting operation rather than rooting them out and prolonging the risk to Gem while they all gathered their strength.

"What did the Ammit do to you?" he asked, following the Elf to the kitchen to lean against a bare patch of rock wall, out of the way.

"Anubis created the Ammit to devour souls. That one still had the ability and used the connection I had to its mind to try to do so. The beads protect what they own." Just like they had when Aiden had been trapped. But Lexius didn't mention the incident. Instead, he seemed to be preparing himself some food. "I have extensive material on the entire pantheon. It was...a subject Koyan and I investigated in depth at one time. If you wish to review it, you may, but I do not think they are a part of this. There is a necromancer behind it all, however. That I got from the woman."

"So a necromancer with Egyptian links, powerful enough to wrest control of a deity's servant. Or," Mesteno went on loosely wreathing his arms, "the Ammit was gifted to this necromancer for some reason. I'm not sure why Anubis would take a personal interest in helping someone attack Gem - the God she's bound to isn't of that pantheon at all. I don't recall her ever mentioning a specific enemy with links to the Egyptians, either, but she's been alive a whole lot longer than I have. I doubt I know of them all."

He didn't look at all surprised to hear about Lexius and Koyan studying the Egyptian pantheon together. In fact he nodded again, adding "He used to torment me with the Papyrus Ani. Showed me it in his collection and let me see bits of it over the years before finally letting me have a copied version to study. Adam was good with languages. He was helping me study it before I cut him loose."

Lexius had some manner of spell on one of those rock cabinets carved into the wall above the sandstone shelf he used as a counter. From those he pulled what he needed to fashion the meat rolls he seemed to favor as food. He ate one even as he prepared the next, speaking in between bites while mentally filing away those little titbits of history Mesteno had provided him.

"The maid thought of him as ?The Scion?. But her mind was twisted. I recognized the taint of necromancy in her thoughts as well as other taints of demonic manipulation." The beads finally managed to worm their way free of the muslin and came pouring out onto the counter, now clean, where they rattled like an agitated snake. Lexius devoured the last of the meat roll he held as he eyed then, then continued. "She was induced to believe they were in love. It may be whatever energy she leeched from Gem was used to power other spells he is working. I only heard half a name before the Ammit killed her. Jetr-something." He pointed a half-eaten roll at the Sadist. "That Ammit was almost completely corrupted. It may have been found elsewhere rather than taken directly from Anubis." He believed that more likely. He also believed it was very possible Anubis might send something looking for his strayed minion now that it had been destroyed.

October 10th, 2015

Weeks had passed, and there had been no contact from anything Greek.

Mesteno's resumption of work in the Old Temple District hadn't caused so much as a ripple anywhere else in the region, and the new Grecian compound was not only thriving, but seemed to be growing rapidly. People in RhyDin were flocking to the seemingly endless party being thrown on the broad avenues before the newly built temples. The converts were increasing daily.

Ares had taken his place amid all that revelry and celebration, rounding out the portion of the pantheon that now advocated all aspects of the Greek Gods and their people's relationship to them. In addition to that, Mesteno had heard whispers denigrating the Roman pantheon and its ways. All of it seemed to be a wild mess of rumours and here say. Not once was there mention of a tattooed man involved, but Aiden had not left.

Whether it was chance or fate that brought them together in the travesty of a nightclub built beneath an old church, Mesteno never paused to wonder. He?d only gone because he?d promised Lexius he would feed before they went in pursuit of Gem?s enemies again.

The notion of sinning in San Lucia?s bone lined crypts was a temptation for the city's population of nocturnal dwellers, and those with a penchant for swimming with the sharks. Mesteno had only been there once, years before, but it was the kind of establishment that remained fashionable year after year, a safe house for all manner of corruption. It also meant it was the kind of hive where Aiden liked to feed, thick with creatures with magic at their fingertips. There was no obvious sign of him amidst the desperate, seething mass of humanity that filled the sunken dancefloor. He was up there amidst the balconies, rivalling (or quietly destroying) the supernatural sinners that packed the place from ceiling to floor and happily draining the magic infesting the place as thickly as the uncounted acts of debauchery.

It was when he sensed the unique flavour of the necromancer?s particular energy that Aiden let the succubus who'd thought to make a meal out of him slump in his hold. Her long limbs were still draped about his body, claws catching in the black netted material of his clinging shirt as he turned a look over his shoulder from the darkened depths of that small space he and the demon occupied. His skin prickled with more than just the carnal energy he'd siphoned from the creature in his arms. His tattoo rippled with a glimmer of darkness rather than light, and it travelled from his shoulders and down his arms like a tidal wave of shadow. He knew that feeling. The tell-tale signature of its dark, hungering presence was something that wafted into the air like the scent of corrupted lilies garnishing a casket.

Down there in the pit where the music throbbed like the heartbeat of some gargantuan monster, and the strobes of phosphorescent blue cutting through the fine vapour issued by the smoke machines, Mesteno fed. The dancers moved like the waves of a great sea, arms stretched high toward the skeletally decorated ceiling high above, the press of their bodies one organic whole and the impersonal press lewdly sexual. It had been no effort for him to adopt that same rhythm, knifing in amongst them, smothered in more physical contact than he?d had for months.

He was repulsed.

He was starving.

He let himself uncoil, a metaphysical unleashing that slipped across the masses and tasted not at their magic, but the life energy all but the undead contained. With so many to feed on to ever really threaten more than a mild case of weariness, none noticed beyond the undead, who knew him there amongst them and were swift enough to slide away rather than draw his attention. Only one, too vicious for his own good, was considering getting territorial as he slunk amongst the dancers.

Aiden watched and laughed. He found the show richly amusing, his gaze roaming away from the necromancer?s enticing motions in search of the Elf. The pair had been so inseparable on their journey through the Planes that he fully expected to find Lexius watching from somewhere nearby. The search proved futile and Aiden's gaze swung back to Mesteno, a sight he found erotic no matter the vague traces of disgust that occasionally curled his lips. He licked his own, wondered if he'd get a better reception this time than the last. He wondered, too, if he could be eaten in turn by the man's ravenous hunger. He didn't have a soul, he was one, given flesh.

He was entertaining the idea of a circular feeding cycle that might set up between them when he noticed the vampire skulking Mesteno?s way. He left his demonic meal sprawling on the floor, twitching and dazed, and hiked his ratty jeans back up over his hips as he moved to the railing of the balcony. He lingered there, ignoring the pitiful groan of the depleted succubus behind him. He wasn't going to charge in on his white steed to save Mesteno.

There was feeding to sate a need, feeding for pure gluttony, and then there was the risk of such excess that it became dangerous on a much broader scale. Having experienced all three over the years, Mesteno knew better than to be too greedy. He soaked up what he needed, each scrap of stolen energy a tantalising change, too myriad for him to fix on any one individual in that sea of bodies. The weariness of weeks washed away, left him feeling hotly exhilarated, energised in a way that left those flooded channels in him feeling molten. The bold, obscene eroticism of the dance began to filter back into the forefront of his thoughts as his hunger ebbed, and the deliberate touches intended to stoke the proverbial flames threatened to overcome his revulsion. It'd been a while.

He decided it best to slink out the way he'd come before anything inappropriate became of the whole sordid business, but in turning to slide off the dancefloor, came face to face with the kindred who'd decided he needed to not be there. The timing couldn't have been better. A surly vampire beginning to bare its fangs in front of him, and a tall, drunken dancer catching his hips from behind to whisper lewd invitation beside his ear on damp breath. To anyone watching it must have been mystifying... but the vampire lunged not for Mesteno, but his handsy admirer. In the chaos that ensued, a contentedly fed necromancer slipped away through the crowd while the bouncers intervened to pull the pair of brawlers apart. Sometimes, controlling undead came too easily. The necromancer looked particularly pleased with himself as he prowled from the dancefloor to the steps.

At least until Aiden, barking laughter over what he?d witnessed, decided he couldn?t let Mesteno leave without at least saying hello.

The Greek didn't move from his balcony railing. That mesh shirt he wore had no sleeves and there was no hiding the whiteness of the feathers coiled around his shoulders and arms. He was already getting some catcalls and looks from those who'd noticed him lounging there with his jeans still half undone, but he chose to ignore them, and coiled some of that stolen energy he'd taken from the succubus to send it zinging hotly across the room, straight for Mesteno. A dart of carnal lust sent to prick him in the back as he climbed the steps out of the pit. It was a parody of Eros' arrow that held a minor punch of power yet contained no compulsion to obey.

Mesteno was almost at the top of the steps when Aiden's little lust-dart caught him in the shoulder blade. The toe of his boot caught the top step, tripped him so that he had to catch hold of the banister clumsily (someone commented a few feet away that some people might want to go easy on the drink) and by the time he'd managed to straighten up and stood on the balcony proper, the tight cut of his tooled leather pants was feeling even tighter. Jostled gently aside, he gave his crotch a bewildered glare, but no matter how hard he tried to will it away, it seemed? disinclined.

Quite visibly, but certainly inaudible under all the noise, he seemed to declare "Ah fuck." and backed into the less crowded space on the balcony. Appropriately for his current dilemma, it was the section intended for the lustier clientele. It was also where he spotted the lounging Aiden in shameless disarray.

Mesteno tended not to be a believer in coincidence. Fate too often twisted him about its fingers, and once he'd spotted the demi-god, he had no difficulty in linking his presence to the unfortunate swelling going on down south. That dart had come from somewhere. For a moment he looked as if he might clear out as he'd originally intended. Why risk hearing things he was avoidant of by socialising with the flashy, theatrical demi-god? Yet he knew his curiosity would kill him if he didn't at least... say hello. So he went stalking over, ignoring the chafing. Less skilled at ignoring the state of Aiden's pants.

October 12th, 2015

Lexius has been avoiding him.

Four days had passed since they?d seen one another, and when the Elf chose to visit Mesteno?s home, he did so deliberately knowing he wouldn?t be present, leaving behind samples he?d promised but naught else. It shouldn?t have mattered, but after so long, Mesteno couldn?t help resenting the absence, and resenting himself for seemingly having developed some kind of dependence on his friend?s company.

There was a reason Lexius had remained away though, and that reason?s name was Koyan.

The Elf was in his library, freshly scrubbed clean of sand that he'd collected from a night and half a day spent on the sea of dunes. Studiously attentive to several old scrolls covered with hieroglyphics, the beads in attendance half sprawled across several of the parchments (as if they were reading, too), he nursed a mug of the spiced coffee he was so particular about, it?s aroma filling the library. He was dressed down, with bare feet and a sleeveless shirt tucked into loose silk trousers dyed a vivid blue that matched the strange, vaguely geometric tattoos that decorated his skin. He was not expecting visitors.

It was quiet, the air dry but cool, as the night slowly took over the day without the cave.

Lexius was not unaware when his teleporter triggered. Only three people had free use of it, and when he?d stretched out a thought he?d expected to find it was Jason. Instead, it brushed across Mesteno's distinctive presence prowling through his lab.

"Bonum vesperum, Lexius." The Elf had a necromancer stood in the opening to his library.

To his credit, the Elf did not frown when he looked up.

"Mesteno." His gaze swept over the man, taking in not only the visual, but also the sense of his energy. He could tell already that he?d fed as he?d promised to. He decided he looked much better for it, but decided he could have braided his hair. Left loose he found it dangerously distracting. "You are well." He finally stated. Not a question, but a fact. "Did you have a question about the samples?" Lexius looked back down to the unrolled parchment on the table before him even as the beads rolled lazily across their parchments, giving out a greeting rattle of their own.

The necromancer had been inclined to wait there in the doorway until he'd ascertained whether Lexius was opposed to his company. He relaxed once there was no immediate request that he leave, and made his way across to the table to settle on the opposite side, books and beads between them.

"I haven't had time to study them yet," he admitted, "though I might have if I'd had them earlier." He suspected at this point that Lexius had done more than the groundwork, probably able to derive far more from them than he'd ever be able to. "You should tell me what you've learned already, so I don't double up on the same work. I'll tell you how I've done with the hex," he added, more than happy to exchange notes, but certainly taking the opportunity to study the Elf as he made himself comfortable, furtively nudging aside cushions to sit on the floor.

"I confirmed," Lexius began with the explanation rather than belabouring the reason behind having kept the samples so long, "that the demon was, at its core, an Ammit. The corruption was necromantic in origin, though I suspect you will know better how that was accomplished. I've found no other evidence that Anubis used them for anything but devouring souls. I've begun to wonder if that is somehow connected to your soul." He did look up then, a faint smile curling his lips. He was still researching that!

"I doubt that anyone hunting Gem has knowledge of my... issues,? Mesteno admitted. ?It seems more coincidental to me. But you can bet I'm going to ransack their shit whenever we find the fuckers. See if there's anything worthwhile t'keep or study. It's rare I find another necromancer who follows a strict school of thought. "You've shut yourself away a lot this week," he pointed out. It was a lame attempt at tact.

Lexius? smile faded away.

"My presence is disruptive more often than not. It is better that I absent myself." He looked away and his gaze remained unwavering after he voiced the opinion. Lexius had sat outside that inn and watched, with invisible eyes, Mesteno and Koyan's reunion. He had realized in that moment that his presence, his involvement with Mesteno, would eventually tarnish the decade?s old friendship the pair shared. One way or another, he would ruin it. The thinly veiled coolness the desert man had shown him later, after the Sadist had left, had only confirmed the conclusion in his mind.

There was a span of quiet, the heavy angles of Mesteno?s jaw settling in against the curve of a palm, one elbow against the table. He looked displeased.

"If I hadn't already made it abundantly clear," and in his mind he had, but who knew whether others might reach the same conclusion? "I happen to like your presence. I don't find it disruptive at all. So. When you decide to go into hidin' next time, you should probably consider shuttin' down the circle my end or I'll make a habit of showin' up and harassin' you."

Difficult though he found it to insert himself into other people's lives uninvited, he just might follow through on that threat, too.

"You will." He predicted. Find it disruptive, he meant! Then he helpfully explained why. "Continued association with me will put a strain on your friendship with Koyan." He could have cheerfully choked Gem when weeks before she'd so carelessly spilled his name out there in front of the desert man along with Mesteno and Pharlen's. Still, he hadn't told her not to say anything, so he had no one to blame but himself. He'd 'seen' that Koyan had not missed it, though. "You would do well to keep our interaction to yourself." Interactions he seemed determined to now limit. The next part he added seemed to confirm that unspoken decision. "Just as I would do well to remember you have survived and prospered well enough without my interference." He might still be berating himself for the feeling of possessiveness that was further clouding his own perception of their...relationship.

"That's why you've been avoiding me? Because y'worried abou-- oh you dumbfuck." Mesteno rocked backward a little, palm slapping down noisily against the table's edge. Never mind the insult, he was busy rolling his eyes! "Koyan isn't gonna care if you and I are friends. He didn't care when I was close with Bjorn," and plainly he had been! "and he didn't care when I was helpin' Alasdair," though he wasn't entirely sure the Turk had been aware of their association, even if it had been no secret at Bess' place that he'd been involved in that whole foul business with the Scotsman's captor. "Maybe what you two had was more meaningful, I don't know, but y'acting like he hates you. You aided him when that rift opened up at Alvaka - you really think he'd have asked for your help if he hated you?"

It seemed he might stop there, for there was nothing but mute appeal in those hawkish eyes. What he added on next was far quieter. "I've survived all right, but sometimes certain folks actually make it worthwhile. There's going through the motions, and there's having reasons to. Don't ditch me yet. At least wait for me to do something wrong."

Like he so often did when the beads got uppity (and the traitorous things did give a resounding rattle at the end of Mesteno's quieter comments) Lexius seemed to completely ignore Mesteno?s outburst. He heard it all, processed it as best he could, but he didn't bother to look up from the scrolls before him. Instead, he reached for his cooling coffee and had a drink, contemplating the core of what the man had said. Mesteno had a point, to a degree. He was the one blurring things.

Lexius finally looked back down to the scrolls and the quivering beads, determined to return to the important matters now that the rest was settled. "While I doubt Gem's problem truly related to your peculiarity, I still find the correlation an interesting one. Souls are not typically sentient when placed inside a mortal. Add to that the need to sustain yours with other souls, there may be a connection to its origins to be found among creations such as the Ammit. There is also the matter of you being referred to as a relic. This suggests something above the mortal plane, as well. There may be answers here that relate by happenstance alone." Though he didn't really believe in pure chance.

Mesteno said nothing more on the matter of their friendship. He suspected Lexius would want to think on it, or stick with the less personal business of their investigations. "I managed to find an origin for the hex," he explained, without any particular triumph to it. "A place called Waterdeep. Have you heard of it?"

Perhaps it was the tone of voice. Perhaps it was the fact that the mute appeal had gone, and Mesteno?s eyes no longer held any hopeful expectation. Whatever the case, Lexius felt too pressed to remain silent.

"That was long ago." Long ago that he?d helped Koyan at Alvaka. He closed his hand into a fist where it rested there on the table, tightened his jaw then shook his head. None of it was the point. Mesteno was, most likely, correct. Koyan wouldn't care so long as the interaction was simple. So he would keep it simple. "I am not....ditching you." He murmured, still without looking up at the man, before he forced taut muscles to relax and returned to the subject at hand.

You did. You meant to. Wanted to. He was ready to bite back with any one of those things, and agitated as he was, they were probably tangled up somewhere in his thoughts. A good thing Lexius wasn?t connected to him upstairs.

Sometimes Lexius' capacity for being withdrawn was so extreme that Mesteno was tempted to shake the living daylights out of him just to earn a response. While the Elf relaxed on the other side of the table, the necromancer sat there taut as a drawn bowstring, his knuckles white where lean fingers wrapped hard over the spine of some poor book he'd grasped at in his frustration. Maybe he'd intended to throw it at his head!

"Yes, I have heard of Waterdeep. It is on Toril." Lexius answered, finally looking up. "Some believe the drow originated on Toril."

"Gem has drow connections," Mesteno?s voice remained uncharacteristically monotone, tight. "I couldn't say for sure where she was born, but if that is her birth land, we can assume it?s an old f-- oh. Shit" He recalled at last the note signed by Terrel's Scion. "The energy being stolen from Gem and her grounds isn't travelling to anything living, but I didn't think about the potential of there being a corpse at the end of it. I never asked Gem what happened to that Terrel bitch's body after she killed her, but it'd make sense someone calling her their mother might want to bring her back. I just don't know why the note woulda ended up in the trash. How did this Scion get it into the house? And which member of staff woulda thrown it out?"

Mesteno's obvious tension did nothing to help the Elf maintain his calm. That shouldn't have been possible, for the man to affect him so, but there it was. Lexius uncoiled from his cushion and stepped away from the table toward the maps. He didn't even berate Mesteno for trying to mangle one of his books! He kept to the topic of Gem, convinced the Sadist's stress would ebb with both the physical distance and the ending of the subject that had spooled him up.

"Gem is part drow. Given that and her connection to Erevan," he knew there was more to that, though he hadn't uncovered it yet, "it would suggest she is also from Toril. I have no idea who Terrel is." He paused there to let Mesteno fill in the blanks for him, though he continued with the maps until he unrolled one of Toril onto the table.

The planet had three main land masses, but there were smaller islands scattered across the surface of the encircling seas. The northern and southern most edges of the map were capped with ice, leaving a wealth of habitable land spread out in between. Looked like a lush world, though Lexius had marked the deserts perhaps in a bit more detail than everything else.

"I only met her once or twice," Mesteno told Lexius, watching with his frown turned fierce as the map unfurled across the table before him. "My memory is a little fuzzy on the details - I'd probably been drinking." He made a dismissive gesture - in those days he'd spent most of his days in a stupor. "I recall Gem was in trouble with her - some old feud reignited here in Rhy'Din. Crazy bitch had this arena where she was letting people abuse virgins. Sacrifices, rape, monsters... She was intending on throwing Gem in there, so I--yeah I offered to take her place." Bits and pieces were coming back, and judging by his expression, he wasn't fond of what surfaced. "We ended up killing her before she got chance to send me in though. Still doesn't give me any clues as to why the note was thrown away though. The maid wouldn't have done it, surely?"

Lexius resumed his place across the table, but he did not sit. Instead, he refilled his coffee from the pot there then set the mug before Mesteno. A silent peace offering the necromancer seemed to accept with murmured thanks.

Leaning, the Elf pointed out sections of the map even if it seemed unlikely the Sadist would need to know any of it. The threat, after all, seemed to be in RhyDin now.

The beads, having been covered when Lexius unrolled the map, came snaking out from under it near Mesteno's elbow. They nuzzled at the joint, as if to soften it up for a slap.

"The central continent is Faerun. Waterdeep lies here, north along the western coast. It is called the Sword Coast. It is one of the biggest cities on the planet." He straightened and stepped toward his book shelves as he continued. "Toril has several gods. The one that rules death is named Bhaal, though on some dimensions of the planet he was usurped by Cyric." The Elf plucked two books from his library and brought them back to the table.

"These are in common if you wish to read them." Because they might be important to the current situation and Mesteno might not have researched these particular death gods. Even if he had, maybe he would find some new angle in the texts Lexius offered. "As for the note, I have no better idea that you about the note. Unless Erevan is taking a hand in things. Do you know how likely that might be?" Mesteno knew Gem far, far better than he. Did her god cavort in her life?

"Bhaal I've heard of in the past. Perhaps from Gem," Mesteno admitted, though he couldn't say for sure. "I'll see if there are any direct links in here, to the hex. I might be able to unravel it if I can pick it apart far enough. It'll be better once we get down those tunnels though, stop groping about at these bullshit clues and see it with our own eyes. While it might be Terrel this Scion is bringing back, it still seems excessive to need that much energy to do it. She was only human, I think. Not somethin' you'd need to drain the land in order to raise."

Unless, he mused silently, drawing the length of the beads in circles at the edge of the map, her soul had been snatched by a God that didn't intend to allow her resurrection. It was a pity he had no way to talk to Bhaal directly unless....

"Aiden has links to Powers - not just the Greek ones, right? The way you explained it working when we were in Sigil, there's the potential he could arrange a meeting. He wants to meet with us soon anyway. I ran into him and he mentioned there was somethin' happenin' we needed to be aware of."

Lexius finally resettled on the cushion now that Mesteno seemed calmer. "The thing about Toril's gods, Mesteno, is many of them began as mortals." He would read about it in those two books he'd been given, to be sure. "It may be Terrel's Scion is seeking to somehow continue that fine tradition." It was just another idea to heap onto the mountain of supposition they were building. "As you say, it will be better to investigate the matter more closely before we rush to any conclusion." And now that Mesteno had fed, (and he was feeling better himself!) they could get to it. As for Aiden? The Elf frowned a moment and reached for the coffee, having a taste from the mug before he placed it back in front of the Sadist.

"He may be able to help, yes, depending on how far his influence reaches. He does seem to know a demon or two." That almost drolly given they had met at least one of those demons! "It's worth asking him. Did he say when he wishes to meet?"

As it happened, it was days later that they?d finally meet up with Aiden for that particular discussion. Before that, a group endeavour into the sewers beckoned?

None of them had been truly surprised when they came under attack by sewer denizens before coming close to their true targets. The skaven ambush had been easier to handle than the gelatinous ooze creature that Lexius loitered behind to collect samples from, and thereafter Mesteno set a punishing pace along the tunnels, deftly avoiding the stagnant water and ducking neatly under cramped stone ceilings. He did not stop when he came to junctions, but continued onward as if pulled by unseen threads.

The troop had no further troubles, and eventually the metaphysical trail saw the necromancer navigate the group to a wide, straight hallway that ran on for about a thousand feet ahead. To the right there were four or five more tunnel openings, while the left remained featureless. Despite the prosaic appearance, it was there that the trail ran.

"I don't like this. Too easy. Or something." Gem murmured.

Mesteno came to a stop, scowling intently at everything in the stretch ahead of him, and not least the seemingly featureless left wall, abruptly riddled with doubt. Had he taken them down an incorrect turn? "Something wrong here," he muttered, making no attempt to move onward.

"I do have a pair of machine guns. They're adorable." Pharlen offered helpfully. "Or a grenade or two?"

"I have some of those, too. Oh, if I throw the flashballs, close your eyes, everyone." Gem squinted at a portion of wall in the middle of that expanse. "Do you see the way the stone is sort of...squiggled there?" Elven speak for secret door possibility.

?Just make sure it's flashballs you're throwing and not mustard gas," Mesteno murmured, narrowing his eyes all the more at the anomaly. "Illusion, or just the way the wall has been aligned to mislead the eye?"

Gem trod forward very carefully, studying the way between with expert eyes. No traps. It made her itchy when there weren't any traps. She studied the wall again. "Not sure, chev." One hand graced the wall and delicately began to feel the spot she had seen. She gave a sudden nod to the party, pointing at the wall. Setting her head against the stone, she listened intently, silver brows rising. She turned and made her way back to Mesteno, Pharlen and the Elf over yonder. ?I hear growling and hissing. And a few words, I think. Conversation."

Lexius? mental threads had been searching down the obvious tunnels while Mesteno and Gem investigated the wall, but they promptly rerouted at the mention of voices. He played distant eavesdropper. Arguments. Whoever lurked beyond the stone, they were arguing bitterly.

Pharlen hung back and watched, head tilting. Her hearing wasn't nearly so keen as the elves?. "Hissing and growling likely means monstery."

"Hold," Mesteno murmured, a hand catching lightly at Gem's shoulder as he leaned close to the wall. His eyes had gone glassy, his energy sprawling broad to taste, tentatively, toward the source of the noise. A flutter of eyelids and then his eyes closed completely.

"There are many." Lexius warned quietly as Mesteno searched in his own fashion.

"Lot of dead things on the other side," the necromancer determined after a moment, easing backward, tongue darting over a dry lower lip in an unconscious show of eagerness. "Alive and dead. Animated... too many bodies though. I don't know what they're trying to accomplish with that many bodies." Too few souls. Not wanting to alert another necromancer to his nearness he deliberately avoided trying to wrest control of them. For now.

Gem had been busily examining the mechanics of the door while they listened. "I can open it. I think."

"If I can steal a few before we get in there, I can lessen their numbers," Mesteno offered. "But the minute I do, they'll know we're here."

"You should do so." Lexius confirmed, and then phased right out of sight.

"It will confuse them." Pharlen agreed. She finally pulled one of her adorable little Calico M100 out of the coat's inner pocket. Certainly she had the elderly Colt holstered on her hip, but 100 shots to a magazine was a lot better than six.

Gem stood next to the door and put one dagger in her teeth, the other stayed in her hand, and then she tucked a sticky acid ball or five in her free hand.

"Wait 'til I say." Mesteno instructed simply, and quietly set to work.

Someone was bleeding. It was not an unpleasant scent, either. Blood currency always gave things a nice little boost over the undead, particularly from a humanoid rather than an animal. The corpses - five of them - suddenly went haywire, moaning terrible sounds as they shirked the control of whomever held their leashes and began to attack one another. "Okaygonow." He blurted sharply.

Gem immediately pushed the stone block that would trigger the mechanism and instead of it opening a simple door, the entire wall sank down rapidly into the floor. An opening of some forty feet lay before them.

The room was huge, stinking, and ringed with small cages crammed tight with the bodies of dead women in various states of decay. A dais occupied the central space, with another cage atop it, this one tall enough to stand but offering no room to sit or kneel. A sole woman was its prisoner, crying softly, weakly, and not far from joining the other women in death judging by the sorry state of her. Another female, in no better shape, was sprawled unmoving on a stretcher to one side of the room.

It was difficult to see anything beyond the grisly contents of the cages to begin with, but the decidedly reptilian theme was too grossly obvious to ignore for long. There were signs of the crocodile everywhere. Statues, hieroglyphics and carvings, including some very lewd ones of a crocodile man having sex with female figures, some of them blatantly pregnant.

The creatures themselves were the crowning glory. The animals had been somehow domesticated, were being ridden by male figures who patrolled the central dais, but they weren?t alone. There were people everywhere who look like skeletons, zombies, and yet untouched by rot. Empty husks piloted by the riders, with no mentation at all. It was these, living undead that the necromancer had detected through the walls, and it was five of these who?d converged on one of the crocodile riders, who?d set his scaled mount upon them as they attempted to bludgeon him with their arms. Something glinted when they struck him, almost as if there were sparks. The crocodile was more than equal to the task of demolishing them.

"Heads up!" Pharlen yelled, and as it seemed the croc riders were leading the weird orgy, she aimed for those, firing across at head level for them. She aimed, rather than hosing out the bullets, and her aim was deadly.

The occupants of the room had turned to the dropping wall slack jawed, but scrambled into movement as Pharlen began her assault, directed by what appeared to be an elder bellowing commands. As the others overcame their surprise, they started to order their living bodies out to attack each of the party, save for Lexius who was still phased beyond their sight.

Gem set her acid balls at her feet (delicately) and plucked a shrapnel grenade from her belt, aimed for a section near the back wall and to the left, her side, and lobbed it in an arc above the bad guys.

Mesteno left the zombies he?d stolen on auto-pilot for as long as they could occupy the individual crocodile and its rider. While Gem and Pharlen took to all-out attack, the necromancer stood unmoving, though his scimitar was in hand should anything come close enough to need dispatching. It appeared he might leave the girls to it, as Gem?s grenade detonated and sent an eruption of charred body parts flying.

Lexius wasted no time at all invading the commander?s mind and clamping down on it like a vice. Somehow, he?d managed to slip past the riders and their army of undead, and had reached the older man to teleport him away from the chaos and back into the tunnel they?d arrived by. He had him in a smooth chokehold, just to ensure his behaviour.

The little thief was taking on the elder?s crocodile like a bull dancer of ancient Crete. She flipped in mid-air and leapt upwards, to land in the saddle. Her dagger aimed down, she rammed it right into the spine of the thing, and it was a lucky placement of blade, right between scales, or it would have glanced right off. The dagger severed the spine and the croc fell with a loud growling hiss, to expire on the stone floor.

"Dibs on those hides!" Pharlen yelled over the racket. Abruptly moving in, booting aside zombies - she had her own way of dealing with them, grabbing and 'pulling' them a few feet -- leaving them in piles of ash. She was curious about the girl in the cage, and also, curious what the remaining croc riders would do as she headed for it.

Finally, Mesteno?s inaction came to an end. The connections were mapped out, not by sight or scent, but metaphysically. He could see precisely which riders had which living dead harnessed, foolishly spreading themselves far too thin. Unseen, his energy unfurled, dark, drowning deep and eager. Not ravenous (he'd eaten too recently) but not about to turn down a meal. The riders were abruptly fighting to keep their own souls fixed, terror on their faces, their hands reaching out as if such an action might save them. Some of them had started to converge between Pharlen and the girl, but Mesteno's assault turned their thoughts fully on themselves. Fuck the girl. As their hold on their own minds and souls was shifted to a desperate drag of nails in ether, the zombies and others fell to the stone floor, as well, not broken, many of them, and quite ready to be piloted by some enterprising necromancer.

A few remaining crocodiles were headed for Pharlen on the dais, Gem already in pursuit. The Time Lord turned quickly at bay, side armed a grenade into an open crocodile mouth, then darted swiftly aside to get the loaded gator to crash into another.

"Gator goes boom!" she explained to Gem as she grabbed at her to drag her away, just in time to avoid another eruption of flesh.

Lexius kept firm hold of the commander, mentally and physically, and waited for the others to clear the room. His gaze was on Mesteno (who still looked as if he?d been entirely inactive all that time!) not so terribly far away, but he was monitoring Gem and Pharlen as things continued to explode.

When at last the room was still save for the two women, Pharlen?s attention turned back to the girl in the cage, who?d at last ceased to cry. She?d been pretty, before she?d wasted to skin and bone, and examination of the other sorry remains suggested they?d been similarly attractive once upon a time.

Pharlen pushed her into Stasis. Time stopped in the confines of that cage, and she constructed a true barrier to sever any connections to her. It had been a well meant attempt to secure her, but the sudden implosion of flesh inside the barrier as the girl was disconnected from the hexes on Gem?s land was not the grisly end she?d been hoping for.

"... Oops." The Timelord blinked. "I can totally fix this. Just uh. Yeah I can fix this." she nodded a few times, wide eyed.

Mesteno eased back to motion, swaying only slightly as if disoriented due to the shift of focus. Just in time to see the girl blown to pieces. "What th-- who?"

Lexius puppeted his captive along for a better view of the room inside. "Pharlen is destroying things." He told Mesteno, sounding quite matter-of-fact about it.

Pharlen scratched her head, perplexed. "Why the hell did she go boom? That usually doesn't happen."

"Who's this fucker?" Mesteno asked Lexius, trying to ignore the too-much-energy buzz rippling through his muscles after the unnecessary meal. No way to purge it! Cautiously, he followed the Elf and his captive down and into the room, occasionally sending disgusted looks at the splattered remains in the stasis field.

Lexius was steering the man toward the nearest cage. "He was in charge of this." The Elf hadn't actually searched for a name, just stolen everything else from his mind. He stuffed him into one of the cages with some rotting girls. No, he couldn't really talk at all. But he drooled very well.

"...I'll clean this up," Pharlen called, twitching. She'd repair the girl, but it was going to take some doing. After a moment, she shook her head and decided to shelve her for now, it would seem. She and the girl and the gore flickered out of sight.

October 17th, 2015

Lexius had spent the better part of the previous day amidst the carnage Gem and Pharlen and Mesteno had left in that hidden room below the city. He had samples aplenty, carefully collected and catalogued, precisely separated and labelled for distribution. He didn't mind playing collector since they had done the majority of the work during the battle. He didn't even mind that they'd left the unconscious girl for him to dispose of as he saw fit. He didn't kill her, at least, but transported her back to the city and left her in Jason's capable care. The commander, though, had met a more permanent end. At the very least, he'd earned himself a season's worth of crocodile meat which he'd left drying and marinating for future use.

It had been late, late, late into the evening before he'd gotten around to visiting his library to begin his research on the things he had seen, the information he'd gleaned from the commander's mind, the bits of statues and copies of hieroglyphics he'd brought back. He wasn't unaware Mesteno had visited the cave, but didn't find the evidence of his 'theft' until he began to search for the books, the scrolls, the maps that he needed.

Collecting the items from Lexius' library had been fairly time consuming. Unaccustomed to the system he used to file his texts, Mesteno had spent the first hour simply acquainting himself with what was where, and another span of time equally as long selecting the victims of his theft. No, borrowing. That was what it was. Either way, he did fairly well for himself, and had spent the remainder of that night reading about Sobek, delving into legends and tales of his cult followings, searching for any details of his worshippers in Rhy'Din, and of course links to necromancy.

It bothered him that he'd somehow become as much a target in the whole business as Gem was. How Jetrell had even learned of him when he didn't make his talents common knowledge was beyond him, and after the whole Grecian fiasco, he was petulantly considering it all rather unfair that it had all developed so soon - and this time at no fault of his own.

To the Elf?s credit, he didn't crash the Mesteno?s cabin and demand the return of his items. He didn't go there and join the man in the research. Instead, he'd waited (holding the samples as captives!), busying himself with other things, until well in the next day. When he still hadn't heard from Mesteno by then, he knew he would have to go searching.

So it was that Lexius appeared in that clear, trampled patch of lawn just out in front of the cabin. He hadn't really wanted to be visiting the man so soon. He'd fully intended to leave the samples he'd collected in Mesteno's lab and take himself back off to do the research in solitude. He'd acted somewhat...rashly in the wake of the encounter and had been attempting to allow the memory of those actions to settle, to fade. But Mesteno, he decided, was being difficult.

Turning toward the cabin, he sent mental threads out searching, searching even as he scanned the place with a look. Three owls came winging down out of the trees to say hello while he stood there.

Lexius hadn?t been the only one distracted by memories of those unexpected touches in the hidden base below ground. They returned unbidden to the necromancer?s mind, the phantom weight of a palm at his nape, the sweep of the thumb he could have sworn was not intentional. It was not something he intended to devote any focus to, and yet there it was. He'd known Lexius wouldn't come anywhere near him as a result of it, and that chafed too. He'd already turned it all about in his head, wondering what the Elf might have done had their roles been reversed.

He was sat on the living room floor when Lexius arrived on his front lawn, his back against the couch, a map unfurled beside his hip, and his own carefully illustrated images of known, stable, RhyDin rifts and their exit points on his lap. He was recently showered enough to be a little damp still, water bleeding off his hair to darken the shoulder of the forest green Henley he wore, the sleeves rolled up about his elbows. The dogs were nowhere to be seen, nor the cat. In fact if not for Lexius' additions to his land, the property would have been unusually quiet.

Lexius' searching threads found Mesteno within, but he didn't make immediate contact. Nor did he move straightaway toward the cabin. Instead, he indulged the owls with attention and fresh bits of crocodile meat as he collected himself, smoothing away any ragged edges on his serenity. Only then did he shoo the feathered pests off and head for the porch. The beads clicked a jaunty rhythm as he climbed then crossed the porch and stopped in the open doorway to eye the Sadist calmly perusing his stolen goods. No shame at all! It was somewhat amusi....no, it was annoying. But not wholly unexpected. The Elf did not step inside, but spoke from the doorway as if he was some vampire that required an invitation to enter.

"I recall requesting you inform me which items you...borrow." Smooth tranquillity. Peaceful sands, still ponds.

Mesteno made no attempt to try and hide the fruits of his labour - i.e. the pilfered books. Instead he lifted his chin, arched one brow. Arrogant bastard. "Have y'come to slap my wrist with a ruler for failin' to do so?" he asked smoothly. "My old teachers preferred the cane." He didn't sound particularly traumatised by it, either. Habits developed young!

He noted the loitering there in the doorway, even considered refusing to extend an invitation so that his damned manners (Lexius had some after all!) might keep him stuck there on the porch, but in the end he took pity. Sort of.

"If you stay put there and don't come in, I'm going to look at you to my heart's content. I've been staring at maps and text for so long that my eyes could do with some good leering." Nor did Lexius have to call his bluff, since he began immediately, unrepentantly manipulative. He slipped him a decidedly interested look that descended by degrees further south. Maybe he'd been taking lessons from Aiden.

Lexius stood there and stared at him, expression unwavering even if he had gone a little....still. By contrast, the beads continued to lazily sway by his thigh, even adding a little swirl to their motion, as if showing off for Mesteno's stare. Or maybe they were waving a hello. They didn't do any snickering. Yet.

The theatrics going on beside the Elf's thigh almost inspired a deviant smile, but Mesteno kept it contained for the sake of lechery. While he'd intended it as a mechanic to prod Lexius into entering, it was no chore. No, the deviance seemed to have given way to something steadier, quieter... weightier. There seemed to be a moment where he considered-- and then it passed as his gaze snapped back up to meet Lexius' eyes, finding them narrowed in a manner that made his audacity peak all over again.

Lexius would have been disappoin.....no, he'd have been satisfied to see the Sadist display a little shame for his actions. Maybe even offer an apolo....no, arrogance just looked right on the man, even if it tweaked the Elf in ways he found both surprising and suspicious.

"Your former teachers were far too lenient." He informed the man as he stepped (stepped, not stalked!) inside, though he didn't invest any real threat into the words. He did, however, twist his Will and given Mesteno a telekinetic shove to the chest. Not so hard it would send him sprawling, but hard enough to, perhaps, make his point. Stop it!

"Show me what your larceny has earned and I may be willing to allow this to pass."

Lexius earned himself a soft grunt for that telekinetic shove, and as the Elf had planned, he was not sent sprawling. There was a jolt, as if he'd had to rebalance abruptly, and a couple of sheets of paper slid from Mesteno?s lap untidily.

"Larceny now, is it? Does failing to inform switch my borrowing to larceny? C'mon, Lexius. You were busy in the sewers, I had no idea how long you were going to be down there. Figured I might even be done with 'em before you were finished."

Done with them, and perhaps riding off south east to whatever he'd managed to dig up on the maps.

"What happens if I've nothing worthwhile to share?" he asked curiously.

The beads gave a chortling rattle as the Elf drew closer to the Sadist's position then wrapped themselves snugly around Lexius' thigh. The Elf frowned down at the string. He damn near growled at it! Which was better than growling at Mesteno (which he?d supposed was probably the reaction the man was looking for). Cool waters, calm sands, tranquil breezes. The beads promptly unstrung themselves from his belt to pool noisily on the floor and across the fluttering pages of notes that had slipped from the Sadist's lap. Lexius looked back to Mesteno.

"Larceny it is." He confirmed. "And I am quite sure you intended to be finished as quickly as possible." If only to try and slip away and handle the matter on his own. He had Mesteno's number. The man did earn a vague scowl for the notion. It was a part of the reason his hand had wound up circling Mesteno's nape, as if to prevent him from doing that right out of the sewer! That last question was full of traps. Lexius trod the answer carefully as he crouched down to have a look at the maps, star charts and texts rather than the Sadist.

"I'll confine you in a room to play nursemaid to that woman the lot of you left me to deal with until this is done."

"Gem is recovering. Pharlen had to go put the girl she splattered back together. I take things apart and the woman needed putting back together. I think you understand why you were the logical choice to see to her care." Mesteno pointed out with just a touch of smugness, as if he knew whatever Lexius might offer in counter couldn't suffice. "Vinci non potest logica!

"Unfortunately for Gem 'n I, Egyptian Gods seem to have a lot of followers in Rhy'Din,? he went on. ?Their cults are far spread, though Sobek seems to have far fewer temples devoted to him than the usual favourites. There's a couple of cities based on rivers to the south east where it's possible it might be more popular, but nothing definitive. You mentioned south east, but not how far south east, this Deathame was located," he added. "It'd be nice to know for... logistical purposes."

The beads were worming their way through the papers and charts, heedless of what they disturbed, until they could slap Mesteno's hand. Greeting, admonishment, encouragement, disapproval, humor?! There was just no way to tell what that action meant, though it was stinging as such contact usually was. The necromancer snatched his hand back with an amused mutter.

Lexius snorted mildly, but the corner of one lip might have twitched toward a smile. Difficult to determine for sure given the way his hair swept forward as he studied some of those charts on the floor. He'd never had a look at Mesteno's work mapping Rhy?Din?s rifts, though he had heard mention of it in the past.

"I believe," he mused, almost absently, "that should I tell you the precise location, or even something slightly less general than southeast, you will be off and about the business of...." he looked up and over the man, past the slanted line of his brow, dual colored eye gleaming knowingly, "taking things apart." He did smile then, the expression somewhat wicked "Vinci non potest logica."

"But you do know it!" Trust Mesteno to deduce that, and focus entirely on what he wanted from it, rather than Lexius? deliberately avoidant reply.

Maybe it was the smile which played catalyst, wicked as it was. That coupled with Mesteno?s constant desire for one-upmanship. Lexius had shoved him earlier, and that wasn't something he was going to simply forget. Balancing whilst crouched was a tricky matter, but it was made far worse when slinking shadows sought to snag the Elf's ankles and pull hard to one side. Mesteno wasn't so gentle, either.

Lexius? leg jerked out and his boots slid across the floor before he caught himself with one hand on the air itself. His eyes flashed brighter for a second as he stabilized, and actually barked a laugh that left Mesteno looking unguardedly delighted. Lexius sliced a thread of thought, sharp as a scalpel, toward the toying shadow so he could settle himself down on the floor, legs folded.

"I don't trust Gem not to run off alone," Mesteno informed him, wearing one of those broad, vicious smiles that never looked quite safe. "If I have to get there before her, I will."

"She is not the only one not to be trusted." Lexius commented, pointedly. Mesteno had just proven that! Still, the Elf seemed far more relaxed than when he'd arrived not so long ago. Play with someone trusted. He'd actually missed that. "I believe she taught you far too many bad habits I will now have to train out of you." He paused a moment, giving the man a meaningful look.

"While old dogs can learn new tricks, despite how the old sayin's go, you have t'have a lot of patience. Takes 'em time. I suspect I'm too human for elf lessons - they probably last longer'n we've got. You'll just have to put up with my bad habits for as long as you can tolerate me." Though Mesteno was tempted to throw in a 'carrot or stick?' query, as if he didn't know Lexius' teaching habits by now.

"We will get there before her." Lexius stated. That wasn't a demand, it was a fact, said as he made himself more comfortable, removing the satchel to set aside. "Or do you wish me to raze half the region should something unfortunate happen to you?" He reasoned with himself that he just might have gotten a little too comfortable there. "Show me what you learned."

"Hey it's me,? Mesteno reminded. ?Have a little faith here. Besides, that'd require entirely too much effort." And then he let it go, because he was feeling oddly flattered that anyone would even joke about going to such lengths.

"I have a wealth of faith in you, Mesteno." Lexius answered somewhat gravely, just to make sure Mesteno understood he was serious. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't raze things. Whatever that drive was, it had gone from a weak, flickering spark to a tidy little flame. He'd felt it ignite the day before when he'd ripped the information from the commander's mind that Gem wasn't Jetrell's only target.

Lexius? gaze snapped up, still too bright, to meet the look Mesteno was giving him. He seemed mildly startled, which was not a familiar expression upon those harshly angled features, but it was something more self-directed that in response to Mesteno?s reach. Surprisingly, rather than jerk back, Lexius instead went quite still and allowed the touch. Statue still. Was he even breathing? Fair was for innocents and fools. Fair was a lie. Fair was just trouble waiting to happen.

A certain tightness invaded the set line of the Elf's shoulder, evidence of his muscles? involuntary coiling beneath his clothing. The Flaw reared its head.

That wasn't the touch he coveted...was it? He clamped his will down on the faux reaction and remained unmoving, even when Mesteno's fingers brushed perilously close to his compact, pointed ear. That one there had a small, silver cuff attached to the point. Yes, he was breathing. It left him in a sudden rush.

"I have not, in the past, usually favored long hair." He admitted out of nowhere, his usually smooth voice gone just a bit jagged around the edges. "But I find yours intriguing." He supposed everyone did though. He was explaining. Maybe apologising.

Mesteno was sorely tempted to touch the decorated ear, if only because he knew there was a propensity for it to be sensitive. The notion of taking advantage of that startled, deer in headlights look was almost too much, but he satisfied himself with nothing more than pinching a lock between thumb and forefinger as if to memorise its texture, its weight.

"Intriguing?" he echoed the word, perhaps with a sly-wolf touch of amusement to his tone to watch the way his mouth struggled not to smile outright. "Haven't ever had anyone call it that before." More often than not he was chided for letting it knot so carelessly, or some woman would threaten to fasten ribbons in it (one or two had even followed through on the threat!) "I could always snip some off for you, if you're inclined to examine it for its... intriguing properties." He'd not improved at all in the acting stakes, and clearly he was teasing him by this point.

It was Mesteno's hand, rather than his offer though, which might cause more friction. Rather than returning to the safety of the maps and the scattered pages they'd been discussing, his knuckles dragged a deliberate path along his spine, between his shoulder blades before he ceased to play the torment.

No. His was not the touch the Elf craved. His touch tended towards sinister before long, became a terrible, painful thing.

He was not the Turk. The Flaw in Lexius would have no other.

"Your hair was long once," Mesteno was reminding, unaware of his struggle. "Why'd you cut it?"

Mesteno's ill-concealed amusement achieved what his reach did not. Lexius swayed his body away even as knuckles travelled the rigid steps of his spine. A frown bloomed like dark ink through liquid across his lips. Lexius looked elsewhere.

"Unnecessary." Absolutely remote, his tone, the tattered edges of it sliced into a fine point of detachment.

No, not the touch he wanted. It was no more real than his reaction and he was the fool in the fairness equation. Nothing about the exchange was anything Mesteno would want. Lexius returned to his study of the map and tried to recall what they had been discussing.

Mesteno?s surprise was all too blatant. Down came the walls, a door slammed shut in his face. His imagination conjured up the clank of a lock drawn into place. He hated it. Worst of all that remote quality to his voice, the unwelcome distance.

"It does not matter." Lexius stated of his hair.

Even his questions were dismissed like an irritation! Mesteno almost picked the beads up to throw at him, he was so insulted.

"I would rather you did not pursue this matter alone." The Elf went on, and tapped a finger to the map, in between the coils of the beads. Where had that star chart gone, anyway? Well, it didn't matter. The beads were now right there between them, silent but present. Little spheres of annoyance.

"I've nothing else to share on the matter," Mesteno informed him, surprised at the sharpness in his own voice, a whip's crack. "By all means if you've any theories, anything I might have overlooked, do tell." There, he had his safety back.

The Elf did not flinch for the cutting edge in Mesteno's voice. The smooth line of his brow furrowed minutely, but that could easily be a reaction to the way the beads suddenly rolled across the map, trapping his fingers before they could get away. The string squeezed on tightly as he drew his hand back, the length of the strand whipping up off the floor to coil around his forearm. Lexius managed not to scowl at them, but just barely. He refused to be chastised by their antics or Mesteno's sharpness.

"You are, as ever, thorough." It was the blunt truth, not a compliment meant to mollify. Lexius uncoiled himself off the floor, rising back to his feet. "I will craft the crystals. The girl has some lingering essence of the taint she was under still in her. I will use her blood and whatever I can trap from Gem's armor to tune the crystals to the particular frequency we seek. Then we shall explore the rivers. Should I hear from Aiden, I will let you know." Even if Aiden had promised to make the contact through Mesteno.

Lexius finally look at Mesteno again, from on high now that he was standing. His expression remained severely serene, but he didn't say anything more. Nor did he disappear abruptly as was his usual way. Instead, he stared at the man for some time in silence while the beads quietly strangled his arm.

There was a foolish desire burning in the necromancer?s chest, to find some way to leave the Elf as stung as he'd been in the wake of that sudden change in attitude. He'd made a habit of spurning friends with a few carefully chosen words, or via actions he knew they would disapprove of. Why was it so difficult to do with Lexius?

In the end he said nothing. Either he was going to wait patiently until those tasks were achieved, or he was going to act out in some manner everyone would find reprehensible when no one was around to see it. It was only when he realised Lexius was still standing there, and hadn't vanished that his irritation was polluted with a thread of confusion. He could practically feel the weight of his stare, and he'd a distinct dislike for it while he was there kneeling on the floor in a position most would consider almost subservient.

So he got up. Of course he got up. And he waited, because the silence was heavy, and anything he might say in those moments he knew he'd regret.

The war going on inside the Elf was, thankfully, completely contained. The ground remained stable, nothing started to dance on its own inside the room, none of the maps or charts spontaneously caught on fire. But the Elf's eyes were still too bright, the blue shards of color gleaming with the darkness of the energy that was coiling behind them. His cells were clamoring one thing, his synapses firing their agreement, both chafing at the binding hold of his Will.

Mesteno was not the one.

The sensible, rational, mostly-believable parts of his mind agreed. But under all that bull shit there was that tiny little flame of something (fascination? curiosity? possession?) that had grown just a little bit larger for having felt the slide of red-gold hair across skin and the drag of knuckles along his spine. Why had Mesteno done that if not merely to taunt him?

A predator toying with its prey, amused with its weakness, he decided.

Lexius tightened his jaw against a few unwise words of his own as the Sadist reclaimed his feet, still searching for the balance that had somehow slipped away from him. He'd lost it. That sense of ease he so rarely had with anyone. He'd destroyed it with one thoughtless, simple act, and he found, in that moment, he regretted that loss most of all. He was fairly sure that was real.

"For a time," he finally said, voice gone soft but still somewhat remote, "I grew it long because others favored it even though I did not. And then for a time, I grew it only to cut once each year as a remembrance to Samir. Now I keep it as I wish it."

Perhaps it was displaying more weakness, giving Mesteno that information, but he gave it anyway as if it might bring him back that thing he had just lost and now suddenly missed. The Elf didn't linger, though, to see if it worked. Instead, he bent his head a fraction in a shallow nod, and abruptly disappeared.

"The scale on the map wasn't accurate," Mesteno muttered, sounding a little petulant. He'd a good mouth for petulance. "I thought I'd be emerging a lot closer from the rift. Didn't seem worthwhile goin' the whole nine yards in terms of preparation if I was only gonna be out here sneakin' around a town. This is..." He nodded to the ruins with disappointment he didn't try to hide. "Useless. It didn't even have the decency to be somewhere ancient I could explore."

"RhyDin has a way of changing the scale of things as it sees fit." The Elf knew Mesteno was aware of that. He also knew Mesteno was aware of the fact he shouldn't go to some place like the desert (no matter how briefly!) unprepared. He did him a kindness, and didn?t mention that out loud.

Lexius turned to stride deeper into the ruins. They had enough time and he'd no wish to further alienate Mesteno's horse by teleporting it anywhere. They could weather the sandstorm here easily enough. "Is this the only area you have checked today?"

The buildings hadn't been made to last. In fact considering their mud construction, it was safe to say the river's death and the sands encroaching were a fairly new thing... RhyDin had strange ways of shifting, swallowing places up.

Lexius smile was a warming thing, usually. Mesteno wasn't displeased to see it that day either, only a little cautious of when it might get replaced by something stonier. Sliding from the horse's back, he drew the reins over its dark tipped ears and walked alongside its head as he pursued the Elf.

"It is," he confirmed of his searches. "I didn't want to be out of the city too long in case anything happened. Have you had any luck crafting a suitable crystal?"

Lexius concentrated on finding a mostly intact building that wasn't likely to crumble under the weight of the coming storm that was big enough to fit them all. Perhaps it had only been a temporary refuge, abandoned with the fickle shift of the river or the changing interest of the people. It had come and gone during the time he'd been away from RhyDin that was certain. He had no memory of it being here.

"Hmm. I have. Here, this one." The roof was gone, but the gaping doorway faced away from the storm and the crumbling walls seemed the strongest they might find. He would enhance their strength, to be sure.

Lexius stepped inside, allowing Mesteno to cajole his steed into the confines all on his own. "We shall have a look while we wait out the storm."

The horse was sensible enough about doorways, and only snorted the once for being crowded through one that clearly hadn't been meant to accommodate something his size. Like all the other buildings, Mesteno had peered through the entrance of this one in the hope of seeing some sign of worship, or at the very least signs that it had once been lived in. If there had been any, they'd been buried by the sands, or picked clean by scavengers exploring the place once the townspeople had left.

Habit had him winding the reins up neatly, knotted so that the horse wouldn't trip on them as it moved about the confines, but he didn't go so far as to try and hobble the Arabian. Flighty though it might be whilst ridden, it had known deserts long before it fell into Mesteno's hands, and knew what the winds and dust heralded. Walls were welcome.

"If it seems like it's gonna be a drawn out storm, I won't blame you for headin' out before me. There's no point in us both bein' stuck here," Mesteno assured as he moved away from the horse and closer to Lexius. "But since we're both here... let's see it."

Lexius remained well back, clear of the animal, until Mesteno had positioned them both inside. He watched them with a quiet serenity that did not change when his focused narrowed to Mesteno as the man stepped close.

Yes, Mesteno had braided his hair, which left his face clean and clear and sharp. The Elf wasn't sure that was any less distracting.

"A moment." He murmured, his Will already twisting into the structure of the feeble walls that surrounded them.

He manipulated the internal structure of the molecules, strengthening the decaying bonds within the weakened mud. He added to the protection in the form of a faint, shimmering dome to spill out of the very air above them. It poured down to meet the walls and glimmered where it fell across the doorway, further trapping them all inside.

"There will be a mild amount of dust, as I am sure you wish to continue to breathe, but that will keep out most of the sand," he explained, then without any warning at all, he reached out a hand and splayed long fingers across Mesteno's chest in a light but steady touch. He neither pushed the Sadist back nor prevented him from moving closer, he just...touched.

When he spoke, his tone was grave. "I apologize, Mesteno, for being...difficult to deal with." That was putting it mildly! "And I would rather be here than any other place." He might have practiced that for as easy as it seemed to come.

For a moment, Mesteno looked betrayed by that simple touch, as if the hypocrisy of not being allowed to reciprocate, no matter how briefly, tempted him to step away from it in protest. Instead he held still, and listened, and dipped his eyes to look at the splay of fingers, probably fanned out right over where the labradorite was resting.

"It's all right, Lexius. I overstepped the other day, got too familiar. I'll behave myself in future."

He?d been lifting a hand to clap it lightly over the Elf?s shoulder, when he thought better of it. He didn't mean to go back on his word when he'd only just given it. As for wanting to be there... "Well it's the desert. I'm sure you're right at home."

The Elf's typically smooth brow furrowed with minute wrinkles. He tapped into that thread he still had woven into the outer shell of Mesteno's mind, listening to the surface of his thoughts, sensing the fleeting blips of emotions that pinged strongly enough to detect. He was absolutely not above cheating in this moment because the answer, that look that had flashed momentarily across the Sadist's unobscured face, had confused him.

Rather than pull his hand back, Lexius flattened his palm, his whole hand, against Mesteno's chest, fingers just brushing the stone beneath the shirt, as if he could push understanding into his flesh.

"You did not overstep." The intentness of his tone, his gaze, was anything but remote. Barely twenty-four hours had passed since their last exchange and it had dominated his mind ever since. He had to repair this. It was important. Still, it took him longer to continue because he hadn't practiced what he might say next, what would follow the apology.

"The place is not the reason so much as the company." That seemed the easiest way to explain it. But when the beads muttered at him, he actually continued! "I was enjoying the ease, the familiarity. But I took your amusement...incorrectly, I think. And so I withdrew."

Lexius struck a landmine, examining his surface thoughts as he did then.

Beyond anything else, Mesteno was confused, and in part by his own responses. For every answer the Elf gave him which eased his concerns, a deep seated pessimism warned him against automatic acceptance. He believed every word from Lexius' mouth was sincere, but didn't necessarily trust the Elf knew his own desires well enough to be... reliable. He was as flighty as the Arabian. Of course he was going to be 'difficult'. The necromancer just wasn't sure if Lexius was ready to be anything but that if his instincts held such strong sway.

Those eyes were damn convincing though, and the tone so dissimilar to how he'd been twenty-four hours before that Mesteno wanted to throttle him a little.

Finally, some acceptance crept in. The apology did not go dismissed, and the hand he'd been going to clasp on his shoulder wrapped warmly, a little gritty in the palm, over the back of Lexius' wrist, thumb skimming along the bone there.

"I wasn't amused by you, so much as y'choice of words." He recalled it well. Someone else had been overthinking it, too. "I enjoyed it too, the bull shittin'." Rough-housing, lazy insults - they came naturally as breathing. "But it is all right, really. I know everything's a little fucked up."

He wasn't deluded into thinking a little harmless contact meant he was suddenly, miraculously over Koyan, any more than he thought himself lacking any hang-ups over Evander.

By contrast, the Elf was suddenly much less puzzled! He understood pessimism, could comprehend doubt. He couldn't fault Mesteno an ounce for feeling either emotion, for letting it shadow his belief and, thus, influence his reactions. To sense those things in the moment and match them with everything else aided Lexius to a better understanding of the whole.

The taint of acceptance that crept so cautiously into the Sadist's mind was like the cool touch of an oasis breeze to sun tightened skin to Lexius. Accompanied by the circling of fingers around his wrist, he felt the ease of relief rather than an unplanned tightening of tension.

"Very well." Lexius nodded once along with the words, patting his hand lightly against Mesteno's chest.

No, no miracles. He might have felt some alleviation of the pressure, but it wasn't anywhere close to gone. That tidy little flame burned, but it was just a speck in the darker miasma of everything else. The beads chortled suddenly, the sound thickly satisfied but quiet when compared to the sound of sand suddenly assailing the mud walls as the storm swept over that little abandoned village and beat against the shimmering shield the Elf had erected. Lexius slid his touch away.

"The crystal." He murmured, half to remind himself. "Sit." He commanded the Sadist in the next moment, stepping back so he could fold down himself.

As simply as that, student and teacher resumed their lessons.

There wasn't much the necromancer could do but offer a resigned sigh.

"Thanks for the heads up," he murmured, expression gone grim. He decided not to linger on the topic. "It won't matter in the end whether the crocodile is behind the army, or this worshipper is the one doin' it,? he stated. ?I'm only a secondary target. Our friend was the one they were sucking dry," bad phrase to use around Aiden but it was out there now, "and I'm beginning to suspect that's because of the fertility side of things. For an elf she's been pretty... productive beyond normal capacity."

Which was not to say that Gem had been acting in a manner he couldn't respect, just that for a species with such a long life span she hadn't really taken much of a breather between popping them out! "Maybe they were trying to channel the energy into this Terrell bitch in the hopes that ol' scaly could impregnate her and have some non-snouty offspring?"

He glanced at Lexius with that query, because he suspected he'd tell him flat out if it sounded a fool's notion.

Lexius was pondering it, but he chose not comment on Gem or anything else. Aiden hadn't known about that part, and was suddenly looked interested.

"Another pointy ear, huh?" Yes. If she was that fertile, he could see Mr Snout having some interest. He might have asked more about that, too, but something on the ground tripped him mid-pace.

Aiden quick stepped a couple of feet to catch his balance and snapped his mouth shut, holding up his hands before he tried again. "Ok, ok. None of my business. But there is one more thing." He stopped pacing to rock back and forth in place. "At some point, my cousins are going to want to see you two again. You," he pointed at Lexius, "because you're all..." he waved his hand all around as if to encompass the entirety of everything! "...holy or whatever. And you," this time he pointed at Mesteno! "?cause Uncle Asshole has a hard-on for you. And because you?re still tainted." And apparently, they could still use that somehow! "Never mind they feel you both owe them for extending their protection. Just a fair warning."

"We don't owe them shit,? Mesteno retorted immediately. ?They recruited us against our will, we risked our necks to pull you 'n your boss out, and we were the only chance they had to do it. By all rights they should be kissin' his feet," he angled his head in Lexius' direction, "an' beggin' my forgiveness for havin' been dicks when they first caught us in the Temple District. Oh and if 'Uncle Asshole' thinks I'm gonna get down on my fuckin' knees for him again, he can sit on this 'n swivel."

He raised his middle finger for illustrative purposes.

Aiden rocked on his feet again, heel and back, but Mesteno?s tirade only cranked up his grin another notch of two.

"You do know who you're talking about, right? They got... a unique world view." He added, laughing the words out along with a shrug. "But you keep that spine, Whippet. Don't ever let em see ya sweat." He dropped a wink and a two fingers salute from his brow to the both of them, then turned on his heel to saunter across the park, whistling the Tin Man song from the Wizard of Oz.

Mesteno was quietly determined that there never be a next time in which he might have to avoid breaking a sweat around the Powers. He'd been pretty damned insubordinate the last time, and that'd nearly seen him sans soul before Hermes intervened. "Gratias tibi, for the help," he called after Aiden's back as the demi-god took his leave.

Lexius, offered no thanks of own, but did let Aiden leave unmolested. He preferred to keep himself quite tight lipped in his presence, watching more than he interacted. It might be he was still trying to see whatever it was Koyan found so appealing about him. He shifted his attention to Mesteno.

"Do you wish to walk or teleport?" He inquired. "I've more news."

Pushing a palm against the back of the bench, Mesteno straightened up with a sigh, and cast a look over the little park as he considered the Elf's question. Finally...

"Don't often get out 'round this part of the city. Might as well take in the sights and see what the latest fads are."

His palm found the Elf's spine for a gentle, guiding push toward a meandering path that ought to take them out of the park and into the side of the sector they hadn't come via, but he didn't maintain the contact longer than necessary. Both hands went into the front pocket of that grey, sleeveless top he wore so well.

Lexius didn?t protest the touch or its absence, but did slant a brief look aside to the Sadist that could have meant anything at all.

Rather than speak out loud and risk technological detection, he wound his thoughts into Mesteno?s mind and murmured there, his mental voice smooth and quiet.

The woman from the sewers recovered enough strength to allow me to probe her mind without the risk of killing her. She, like all the other women there and the maid we discovered in Gem's home, were his devotees. They were all trained in necromancy in the most rudimentary fashion. It was they, I believe, who marked the grounds, one after another, taking Gem's energy until they were full.

It was evidence Mesteno had become wholly accustomed to that kind of communication, the utter lack of outward reaction. To an outsider it must have looked as if the pair were simply enjoying the peace and quiet of a stroll, with nothing worthwhile to speak of.

Dangerous business, letting them play with things they've so little training for. But it means the Scion must be more powerful, more skilled. It's been some time since I've been opposed by another necromancer. He didn't sound as if he was looking forward to the challenge, either. Too often it reminded him of what he might become with the wrong motivations, with fewer scruples to keep him walking that knife edge instead of stumbling off it into reprehensible deeds.

He said nothing more for a moment, already beginning to ponder the necessary preparations he'd have to make before they left for the city they'd managed to locate, defensive as well as offensive. When he did speak again, it was only to encourage Lexius to continue as they approached the edge of the park. What else?

The beads were still mumbling to each other, but they took the time to slap Mesteno's leg for no apparent reason at all as Lexius responded to the man's comment without even a moment to consider. I shall enjoy watching you defeat him. As if it was a given! He'd never seen two necromancers battle it out, either. Typically, he only ran across the breed singly and in contention with other sorts rather than their own kind.

Lexius slowed a fraction to allow some cyborg looking humanoid dressed in strange uniform to pass along the walkway before he stepped out onto it from the park. Hands clasped behind his back, he allowed the Sadist to pick their direction as he continued.

Jetrell would come to the city, to the sewers, to drain them of their energy, hence the lack of any direct of connection between that place and Deathhame. I do not know how often this happened, but I am sure he knows by now the place had been destroyed.

The Elf looked around as he detailed his fingers, curious but not overly surprised with the stranger sights to be seen in this sector of the city. He wasn't unfamiliar with technology in the slightest, he simply chose not to avail it himself.

She also overheard something about a virus they had been testing on some of the live subjects we destroyed. I had not tested any of the samples I took for such a thing before, but I am doing so now.

Once out of the park, Mesteno aimed them down what looked to be the main street of the district, towards a skyscraper whose facade was being used as a constant broadcast in beautifully high definition, commercials for products incoming from distant star systems, occasionally interrupted by mugshots of known smugglers and terrorists thought to be mooching around just outside of orbit, waiting for a chance to slip through whatever security existed.

Mesteno didn't know how it all worked, nor was he sure he wanted to, but some of the sights were nevertheless distracting. A being who looked only semi-corporeal, humanoid in shape and clad in what, upon closer inspection looked to be a colony of tiny, moving insects like ants, breezed past them leaving the sharp smell of ozone in its wake. The necromancer decided to stay tucked as close to one side of the walkway as he could, because he'd be damned if some alien's bug-clothes were touching him.

That's a lot of women he abducted and drained, he remarked as they roamed. Someone must have been looking for them. You'd think the Watch would have a missing person's list and have noticed some pattern in the looks of the women if that were the case. He hadn't seen anything in the local papers though! The crocodile riders we killed? he asked when Lexius mentioned live subjects. They were unusual. But if you mean the bodies that were still alive but soul-less, all I can think is that the souls are in containment somewhere. How a virus could achieve that, I don't know.

The latter, yes. The not dead things, soul-less but alive. Lexius hadn't had much chance at all to examine those creatures before they'd all been destroyed, so he was somewhat eager to find some more of them to, perhaps, capture and contain for further study! I'd like to collect some of those, if we can.

He passed a look over his shoulder once they'd passed by the bug clothed creature, eyes narrowed and a thread of thought sent off in pursuit of the being. Just for a little while. The place was distracting!

If we can find a matching soul and body, I'd like to take a set, Mesteno told Lexius bluntly. There was an incident a couple of years ago where someone was struck a mortal wound and I needed them alive. I acted in haste to keep them from dying, binding the soul to the flesh even though there had been a severing and the result was not... pleasant for anyone involved. I'm eager to see how someone else has accomplished a true parting of body and soul without the flesh dying.

He'd kept the details vague, but there was a thick sense of failure that came with them, and the mental threads might detect that it had been something to do with the Alfar. Faint image of an auburn haired woman with the same, grey eyes as Ivanya, before he banished the thoughts from his head.

Why did you dress like this today? Lexius? gaze swung back to Mesteno right on the heels of the question, monitoring him in every way as he answered. He didn't even seem to care when a dozen little silver, flying discs went whizzing by overhead.

Because I haven't done any laundry for two weeks and all my good stuff is filthy. It was a lie. There was a flash of deviance in the necromancer?s too bright eyes for it, too.

The Elf snorted immediately. He didn't have to be connected to Mesteno's mind to detect that deception! He did look forward again, but it was only to mask the faint twitch of his lips toward a smile.

We'll take as many as you wish. He stated of the dead things. It would require a special place to house them, but Lexius was already making plans. He made you uncomfortable. Lexius point out bluntly next. Yes, he was going to bring Aiden back up.

Mesteno slipped a look at the Elf as if he intended to try and gauge the reason for his asking, but he answered inevitably.

He hit me with some lust bull shit at a club the other night, he admitted as they walked, a sudden bass vibration throbbing through the sector as an enormous cargo ship descended, almost as large as the skyscraper it was passing. It did strange things to the inner ear, and the necromancer rubbed at one of his absently. Took some time to wear off, and I didn't have much choice but to attend to it in the obvious way when I got out. He'd been eager to give me a hand. In the literal sense of the word!

Lexius turned a look back to the man, studying his face in silence before his gaze canted up to track the heavy passage of the freighter overhead.

You did not accept. That wasn't precisely a question. He had one of those! Why not?

Hadn't Mesteno been the one to tell him to go out and try some no-string sex? Aiden seemed a perfect candidate for that, interested and eager. It still wasn't precisely clear if the Elf had witnessed any of it, though.

I didn't, Mesteno agreed with matching simplicity. It was the second question which took him far longer to find an answer for, and not, the mental link would attest, because he was hurriedly thinking up some deception.

He stopped at a crossing while the freighter passed low enough to make the nearby safety glass with the dazzling, optical displays vibrate worryingly, then made his way across to the opposite path, unhurried, content with their aimless roaming.

Sex is complicated, he began, as if uncertain of his own words. For some people it never has to be, but I've made too many errors not to be cautious of what I do, or who I do it to. It's more than a matter of finding someone attractive. It's knowing they'll settle for what I can give them. That they're not going to be having second thoughts half way through. That I'm not going to be regretting it afterwards. Aiden is handsome, and uninhibited, but I barely know him. His father is... he didn't say it, because he was still quietly marvelling over that revelation. He even shook his head minutely, a smile curling wry at his mouth.

How about you? Have you found an outlet yet? It was only fair he counter that question with one of his own.

The vibrations of the freighter?s passage pulled a minor frown to Lexius? lips and had the beads wiggling crazily for a moment, as if they gleefully riding the unseen waves of force. He kept easy pace beside Mesteno and contemplated his words as much as he did the displays or technological wonder on and behind the glass fronted buildings they passed.

Somewhat. He answered Mesteno's question succinctly and without any detail. He was only being dismissive because he was far more interested in Mesteno?s answers! The actual sex is not the complicated part, yes? That was a question, in case there was more to it than Mesteno's reluctance to remove his clothing in front of others. He followed it up with a supposition. It is what accompanies it... what must accompany it, for you, which makes the matter more difficult.

"You told me," Lexius suddenly said, his previous determination now so much dust, "inhibitions were a turn off."

He pressed his hand more firmly against Mesteno's chest, the muscles in his arm and shoulders rippling with that automatic tension he expected in himself, then conquered. Instead, he curled the tips of his fingers against the closed teeth of the zipper angled across Mesteno?s hoody, feeling the metal.

"I know your predilections." He insisted, perhaps reminding himself. "Yet I would end anything else if..." if what? He wouldn't ask or expect Mesteno to change, not so fundamentally, never mind all the strain he was dealing with when it came to Evander. He could not see the other side of the ?if?, so he left it there and shook his head, a vague smile twisting harsh across his lips as he pulled back. "I like the belt." His traitorous mouth added as his gaze traced down the man's body.

Lexius decided this was all Mesteno's fault, really. He'd laughed. He remembered it full and rich and uninhibited, shared between them not so very long ago. He'd made a mistake then. He'd withdrawn. He was trying not to repeat that without swinging too hard in the other direction.

Mesteno knew he needed to tell him to shut up.

Lexius' apparent change of heart however, his words, were playing siren song to his every filthy urge. His focus lifted to that traitorous mouth, the mental tie rife with lewd intention. The necromancer left it until the last minute to reach out, and only then because Lexius was backing up, opportunity escaping.

He wasn't quite ready to let it happen.

The Elf hadn?t escaped far enough to avoid the hand closing against his nape, the very fingertips hooking there, palm against the side of his throat, thumb angled up against the hinge of his jaw where that muscle was so prone to tightening.

Lexius knew he should pull away, but he didn?t.

He could not ask Mesteno to change, he couldn't see how he could do so himself. It was a chasm of difference yawning between them despite the tenuous bridge of the other things that tied them together. But those others things were ever, ever so compelling. Strength of will, danger, intelligence, the curve of a smile and the splay of bright, heavy hair. And the laugh. His jaw tightened, and he wrapped his hand around Mesteno?s wrist.

"Tell me something," the necromancer demanded of him, the quiet of his voice a dangerous low. "If Koyan came and asked for you back, clean slate, told you he still loved you, wanted you..." He didn't need to make it a question. Lexius was smart. He knew what Mesteno was trying to determine.

The Elf met the man's eyes and spoke without a moment's hesitation, his answer.

"No." It was firm, immediate and absolutely certain. "No." He said it again, with a little more viciousness. "No." For a third time, because there was power in the number three, even here on the Prime. The way that spark flared inside him somewhere just confirmed it. Maybe the way the beads suddenly chortled did to.

The ?no? wasn't a new decision for the Elf. He'd made it even before they had gone on their jaunt through the Planes, not long after Mesteno had laid out his choices on the matter. He'd known those choices for decades, had picked one of the three long ago. That hadn't worked out in his favour, after all.

Of the two options he had left, this was the only one that made sense logically, intelligently, even emotionally. The parts of emotionally that he thought he could trust, at least. So it was a no and remained so even in the wake of more encounters with the Desert Man. But that didn't make it any easier.

It wasn't the answer Mesteno had expected. He'd been steeling himself for defeat in the wake of old desires, a yearning that hadn't failed, even ten years later. The pessimistic portion of his mind remained dubious. His scruples chastised him for being the potential ruin of something already half-formed between the psion and this mystery man. In the end he was only human though, and as flawed as any other. His fingers had already begun to tighten over his nape before he'd concluded his choice, as if his body knew better than his indecisive mind.

His thumb went skimming along Lexius' jawline, taking liberties even as he pushed from the wall with a faint arch to his spine. There was very little distance between them then, little enough the toes of his boots were clumsily knocking into the Elf's, the air between them shared breath. He meant to have his mouth. That was all too obvious from the way his hand adjusted, that creeping thumb stretching to tease along the edge of his lower lip. But there was one more question.

"Your friend," more than that, whatever he was, "is he in love with you?"

The path fingers traced along the Elf?s skin stirred streaks of slow pleasure beneath the quiver of protest that flickered madly across a tendon. He kept a hold of the man's wrist, but he didn't deter the motions. His turn, though, to draw a breath and hold it, to go tight in more than just a flawed, involuntary reaction. He could easily read Mesteno's intent now, expression and emotion matched.

He wanted it and he didn't. It was fucking maddening and had him splaying his free hand out back across the man's chest, as if to repel him and had his lips pulling back from his teeth in a vicious smile as if to draw him on.

"He knows it will end." Not an answer to the question, but an answer nonetheless. The point was moot. He'd been exceedingly clear before he started anything with the youth. "He will be fine." And then he shoved, hard at Mesteno's chest to slam him right back against the wall, the wood shuddering. Changing his mind? Not with the way he stepped in, followed, crowded. "Do not play."

Mesteno was not subdued by the sudden violence of Lexius' actions. Instead his free arm closed around him like a trap, rigid as an iron bar, while his fingers twisted up viciously into a handful of hair, snatching control unrepentantly. It didn't appear to matter it was his back against the wall, not when he was deliberately pulling the Elf in against the hard, uncomfortable lines of his body. Denying him the opportunity to speak.

He didn?t need to bend or bow to kiss him, angling in to smear his mouth open with lips that were cruel, no matter their fullness. Ruled by impulse and instinctively carnal, the initial, hungry clumsiness giving way to something raw, perverse, his hands no kinder as they pressed bruises into flesh, uninhibited and unapologetically brute-vicious.

Open up, the mental tie demanded, the voice of his mind a growl.

Everything in the Elf rebelled. The flaw demanded he shove Mesteno away, while his own nature required he rip back the stolen control. That flickering little flame he?d been harbouring swelled with the glee of a ravenous want finally being fed. The conflict let Mesteno have his way unchallenged, unchecked, and Lexius' mouth opening wider beneath the bruising pressure.

He couldn?t be sure which it was, the clutching hands or the thrust of the spearing tongue, but one of them finally seemed to wake the Elf up.

His hand slid from Mesteno's chest to curl around throat, high under the line of his jaw where it clamped down and pulled up to angle the man's head more to his own liking. The transient passivity over, he kissed him back, made a war of it. He fed Mesteno the sound of a groan even as he sought to devour every nuance of taste, the press of his body an insistent push as if he meant to crush him into the wall, wedging a knee between his thighs. He pushed with one hand, pulled with the other, and did, for a little while, forget how to breathe.

Mesteno wasn?t disappointed. The eager response was everything he'd hoped for, and he indulged himself shamelessly. He kissed not simply as one step on the route to something more explicit, but because he loved to, found it difficult to stop once he had a mouth under his own, found it even harder not to draw blood with his teeth in his eagerness to taste.

The small wound gave the Elf no pause. It wasn?t unexpected, and only underscored the danger in the man that he found so appealing. There had been others (Mesteno knew them all), but every one, on some basic level, somewhere deep within the shadowed and often unacknowledged parts of their souls, had feared him. But he couldn?t feel any just then in the man he kissed. Didn't get so much as a glimmer of the sense that Mesteno would shy for even an instant should he let go completely.

Fear was something for other men.

In fact, Mesteno?s spine was arching, pushing through the sharp lines of his shoulders, knocking knees to knees, just far enough to give him a moment of breathing space. With the grip he had at his nape, he wrenched him around so he could have things his own damn way, pinning Lexius against the wall where he'd been himself moments before.

The Elf grunted, caught off guard as Mesteno?s mouth moved damp and hot against his cheek, his jaw. There was no disguising the immediate, eager response crushed up hard into the cusp of Lexius' hip. Evidently the necromancer didn't require much effort to spark a response, riled as a damned teenager.

It was when he went after his mouth again that Lexius tightened his fingers around his throat, threatening (achieving for three precious seconds) to cut off his air completely. He kept them apart by inches, let loose the Sadist's hips to catch the man?s wandering hand. His blue-violet eyes were brightly fixed on his face.

Stop should have been what he said. No. Some sort of reasonable words. Because there was still the matter of his body's sluggishness. He could feel the hard evidence of Mesteno's arousal, but his own was nowhere near that ardently expressed. "Enough." Was what left his lips, rough and low in a voice even he barely recognized.

Under Lexius' fingers, Mesteno?s pulse was hard-pounding in his scar-littered throat. He bared his teeth, the faintest pink patina of the psion's blood staining incisors. His head was full of images far worse. Vivid. Blood streaking his jaw like barbaric war paint.

For a moment it looked as if he was going to debate the ?enough? physically until Lexius screamed bloody murder at him, his eyes wild-lit and intent. He?d always had trouble stopping, not least when he was as miserably roused as he was then. Allowed air again, his nostrils flared faintly on a hard exhale, and the fingers in the psion's hair bunched cruelly, threatening to uproot strands from the scalp before he acquiesced.

It had Lexius peeling his lips back from his teeth in some combination of grimace and snarl. Yet there was a part of him that revelled in that strength, which enjoyed the fact the Sadist didn't hesitate to use it against him. No, not exactly against him. Between them might be more accurate. Maybe then...maybe.

There was an undeniable sort of beauty to that kind of vicious, carnal lust. The Elf soaked in the sight of it with an appreciative, hungry (and assessing) gaze. Mesteno was as stunning to him in his visceral desire as he was when he put all that passion into violence.

But it was too much, too quick, too hard and fast and raw. That was something he could not yet give.

He should have been relieved when Mesteno relented. That emotions might be somewhere in him. Certainly it was, for this was not the touch he... Lexius snarled under his breath, snapping the thought off. He was careful not to twist the wrist he held or tighten his fingers on the Sadist's throat again, making himself loosen each touch even more, slowly. Carefully.

Nowhere near easily.

"I will disappoint you." He managed at length, doing nothing to step away or push Mesteno back further. Nothing physically anyway. The admission might be enough. "But I still wish to taste you again." Right then. No. Not right then. That would be bad. He rumbled out another harsh breath and straightened.

It was too much. The dissonance was more than he could stand.

Not the touch he wanted?

Mesteno had no time to protest. The Elf vanished without so much as an apology, and left him to seethe his frustration in solitude.

Mesteno was disoriented.

Snatched mid-step, he staggered as the shift from one place to the next stole away his balance, and he was forced to lock his knees to stay upright. Eyes wide-round like a pair of shiny new coins, he struggled, through juddering vision, to assess his whereabouts. Lexius? telepathic link remained intact enough to carry his voice.

I'm fine. Of course he was. Basement maybe? Or... can you see any outbuildings?

Closer examination suggested it was a chapel of some sort, and a good sized one. Rigid stone underfoot, blessedly dry and lacking in draughts. Empty pews and an altar backed up the chapel theory, and yet there was a scent.

A chapel or something? He suggested to Lexius, and then, Oh...

There was a pool, some ten feet across and surrounded by natural rocks. Within resided a crocodile which, despite the predictable scaliness somehow managed to have a very feminine quality. It was watching him, jaws parted and a sibilant and dangerous little hiss disturbing the quiet.

It struck Mesteno that this might well be the mate that Aiden had been talking about, the one that Sobek had been idly tormenting for the simple pleasure of it. Naturally, that meant his gun was trained on her, safety off.

"Now, now. Mesteno." It was an unfamiliar male voice, and irritatingly it pronounced his name perfectly.

His gun began to rebel, a thing come alive, some mental force trying to wrest it from his grip.

The speaker moved into view, situating himself between Mesteno and the crocodile. Red hair flowing to his hips, rich robes with metal armor here and there to buff it up, and oddly leaf green eyes. His hands were behind his back, as he slowly paced towards the Sadist.

Mesteno tightened his grasp on the gun, entirely unwilling to relinquish it, and even beckoning forth a few threads of shadow to keep it bound against his palm. His intent to kill the she-croc had become of somewhat lesser importance.

"Jetrell, right?" He held his ground for the moment, narrow eyed but collected.

Above ground, Lexius and Pharlen were at the doors, listening via the mental link.

Pharlen tipped an ear, considering the step that had stolen Mesteno away. "That does seem to be the quick way down."

"Together then?" Lexius suggested. ?If not, then you may destroy the door." For the first time in a long time, he could not tell where Mesteno was in relation to himself. That was not good. Keeping his hand on Pharlen?s dragon-snout, he strode onto it.

Nothing happened.

The double doors waited before them, with windowed panes and solid wood. Beyond the foyer was visible, with cobwebbed furnishings and a stairway that led upwards.

"I'm getting the feeling that it knows what we can do, for the most part." Pharlen murmured to Lexius. And it'd been years since Pharlen actually used the albino to dragon charm! "Into the Umbra and find Mesteno's shadow?" she suggested. "Or shall I knock?" She offered a toothy grin.

Lexius' jaw had tightened as the seconds ticked past. He was listening to something else as well as Pharlen.

Meanwhile, six feet of nothing Mesteno wanted to get close to was coming closer. Lips set in a perpetual sneer fully matched the disdain bleeding from those eyes. Skin of a dull parchment color showed slight signs of premature aging, though he couldn't be older than his mid-thirties. The man halted his forward progress as the gun battle equalized. The tug was kept up, but Mesteno was holding his own grip for now.

"Yes. Jetrell. I am so very pleased to meet you, finally. I have much to say to you."

Mesteno had no doubt Jetrell would be able to manipulate the path of a bullet should he manage to squeeze one off, so he didn?t even attempt it.

"I'm gonna translate that to 'I'm going to bitch about my mother with some dramatic flair for good measure'," he replied drolly. Because he never had been good at keeping his mouth shut.

Lexius let go of Pharlen?s snout and unwound the beads from around his belt before looping and laced them around the dragon's frilled neck. And then he Plane shifted into a shadow right there by the door.

Pharlen chose a less furtive route of joining them. She belted out a glass shattering roar and came ploughing through the doors on a rampage! Fire and brute strength took her so far, before another spell-trapped spot beyond the foyer snatched her away as surely as Mesteno had been, planting her not in the chapel, but in a long corridor, lined with alcoves on either side. Another set of doors awaited her at the end of the hall.

The trio were well and truly separated.

Reach into the shadow, Mesteno. Lexius advised down that mental tie quietly. With the words came the chill of the place the Sadist so often traversed. He was searching for him already, looking for the unique signature of him.

Before Jetrell could come any closer, Mesteno brought the shadows lashing up off the floor like a wall of dark ice, intent on sending him sailing into the pit with the she-croc, and a moment later calling that same, inky blackness back towards himself, reaching through at the Elf?s behest.

Jetrell raised his arm, a vast shield forming that swept between the necromancer and the pool, all the way across the chapel and the altar. Cursing as he felt the sting and chill of shadows, his eyes snapped with ire and irritation.

"No, you do not understand. I have an offer to make you. Will you not listen to it at least?"

I have you. Lexius murmured with the vaguest sense of relief. It was a fleeting thing. Already the chill had sunk deep into his bones. The Elf stepped on through the darkness toward the flicker of blacker flame that marked Mesteno's location. He moved back onto the prime, and right out of Mesteno's shadow, though he kept it closely cloaked about his body.

"You tried to kill Gem," Mesteno told Jetrell bluntly. "No offer you can make will interest me unless it involves your immediate execution."

The crocodile was hissing and snapping, flicking her tail and rolling over and over in rapid, maddened motions.

Jetrell settled himself on the throne beside the altar. "You cannot mean to throw away pure, raw power for such a...such a creature?" He leaned forward, as if he were trying to lead the Sadist to a clearer understanding, actually appearing earnest. "She is a mere nothing. She is a nobody with pretensions to grandeur she does not deserve! An accident of birth who happened to be born to wear the crown of her mother's blood! An accident which the very circumstances of her sordid beginnings denied her the opportunity to wear! She was born into slavery, into whoredom, and her continuing to breathe the same air as those of us who are better is an affront to all!"

And that was when he noticed the Elf lurking in Mesteno?s shadow.

"You! Begone!" He commanded, irritated. A wave of one hand sent a blast of psionic power hurtling towards him, a personality parasite to keep him occupied. A second, agitated motion and a gong sounded somewhere. Back-up was being summoned.

"You really picked the wrong necromancer to go making offers of power to,? Mesteno growled, ?You should've done your research better, you stinking vulva grease. Not interested. You flap your lips once more about Gem and I'll peel the fuckers off your fa--"

Pharlen hadn?t been slowed down by the little teleportation trap. In fact despite her size, she?d ploughed on through the mansion like a wrecking ball, and burst through the doors beside the throne in a shower of debris while Mesteno stood there insulting their would-be killer.

The necromancer did his best to manhandle Lexius out of the path of flying wood and glass, even as the Elf, countering Jetrell?s telepathic attack, sent one of his own across the chapel that sent the throned bastard staggering as chaos erupted around him. The scent of the desert flooded the space, and a second gong sound rang deafeningly over the noise as Pharlen, charging over the pews, wrapped herself around the two men protectively.

And not a moment too soon. The back-up had arrived, filing in through the battered doorways while Jetrell, staggering back at the mind blast Lexius had sent his way, grit his teeth and hurled a Catapsi at the Elf, veins standing out at his temples.

The beings that thronged the room now (along with five nubile, dark haired, and lovely women, who stayed back, ringing Jetrell with their barely clad bodies) were grotesque.

They had once been men and women. Now there were caricatures of the bipedal form. They lived. A sense of vast, starving hunger emanated from them, great, corrupted evil, and no sense of thought or control. Their nude bodies had little hair on head or anywhere else, and thick, parchment-like skin pulled tightly over the swollen muscles that remained behind. Some of them had bony protrusions, spikes along the spine and over the shoulders, at the elbows, wrists, and knees and feet. Every joint protected by bony shards that had sharp, razor edges and out-thrust spines.

It was the women though, that Mesteno sensed were the real problem. They were piloting the deformed army, and despite their un-lich-like appearances, seemed to be doing so with alarming ease. They?d sent their minions rushing at the dragon, with not one bit of evidence to show they felt any hesitation or fear. Some ran on the walls, some on the ceiling, and some on the floor. They were almost insect like in their motions.

Mesteno didn't like what he was feeling from those women one bit, and he didn't waste time trying to figure out how they accomplishing that control, or what they'd done to the bodies to distort them. Instead, he opened fire with the Colt, not too picky about what parts of the women he hit. Trying to control the dead whilst full of holes was difficult, and if he could maim the women at the very least, perhaps it would cull the numbers of scrambling masses.

Mesteno was following a trail like a sure-nosed bloodhound, and with as little caution.

Had there been traps waiting, or lingering remnants of Jetrell?s forces, he?d likely have fallen prey to an ambush, but luck (for once) was on his side, and as he navigated the unmapped halls of the manor, leaving Lexius to Pharlen?s healing talents, nothing stepped out to confront him.

The pursuit was desperate.

He?d felt something of Gem as he?d tracked the fleeing soul, and they?d all thought her safely back in RhyDin city, far from Deathhame and in safe company. If she were here now, if she?d reached the place before them?

He turned into a square room, a door at its far end, a pentangle drawn on the floor, and a glass coffin residing on a heavily carved wooden support. The glass at one end was shattered, and a trail of blood led from the room, through the exit opposite.

In the glass coffin rested, with the fluttering lids of someone newly waking, a woman. Above her, on the remaining glass, lay a gem. It glowed a brilliant green, and it was from here that he could sense Gem.

Her soul in fact, or at least a large part of it.

Mesteno made for the sleeper?s coffin to retrieve the gem, albeit not without due caution. Jetrell had come this way, and he wasn?t oblivious to the fact that the woman seemed to be regaining consciousness. He recognised her, even if it had been more than a decade since their confrontation. Terrell. The Scion?s mother, and the cause for the whole debacle.

Not that she was wholly herself. This, he sensed was where the fleeing soul of her son had retreated, and the moment he took the gem from atop the coffin, the eyes flashed open completely.

She sat up. And banged her head on the glass over her head.

By this point, Pharlen, with a weak but at least conscious Lexius in her grasp, had caught up with Mesteno, and watched with no little amusement as the reanimated body floundered in its confusion. The necromancer, wary of what the newly housed Jetrell might be capable of, was guarding the gem he?d stolen.

"I am well." Lexius was insisting, though his voice was barely a voice at all. The beads Pharlen held snickered right aloud in a disturbingly sentient sort of voice.

"Your beads don't seem to think so," the Pharlen dragon noted dryly, collecting up a long sliver of wood from the debris she?d made of another doorway.

She didn?t hesitate to approach the newly awoken woman, and thrust it straight into her chest.

Mesteno waited, keeping his distance, but he was feeling outward for another escape. This body might not have been the only one a well-prepared necromancer kept on hand to receive him after all.

Thankfully, in this instance, that appeared not to be the case. The soul neither fled, nor detached to anywhere that he might be able to destroy it.

Instead it sat there, contained.

Lexius, determined not to be carried about by a dragon for the rest of the day, had pushed his way from Pharlen?s claws, though he looked as if he should have been confined to a hospital bed.

"Spirits above, this guy's spirit sure as hell took its vitamins!" Pharlen complained, as aware as Mesteno that Jetrell was not yet eradicated.

The feel of all that lay within that very feminine body was all wrong. Sliding the jewel with Gem's soul energy away into the safety of a pocket, Mesteno stood frowning down at the remains until... his eyes fixed on her, way down low where generally he didn't tend to look. Then? He snagged up one of those shattered pieces of glass and started silently mutilating her corpse, carving her open right above her pubis.

Blood spurted, richly red, staining the frothy white dress she?d ben clothed in. On an aesthetic note, it matched the roses she?d been surrounded with beautifully.

After a moment, with Pharlen watching for artistic merit, and Lexius leaning against her to keep from swaying, Mesteno tossed aside the shard of glass and reached into the innards, closing his fingers around the soul jar that?d been secreted in her womb. He brought it out dripping, and pleased. What was left of Jetrell was trapped within it.

Turning away from the mutilated corpse to Pharlen and Lexius, he examined both with keen eyes, though the Elf's obvious ill health kept his focus fixed there longer.

"Pharlen, can you fix some kind of stasis around this? That bastard is in it, and I'm pretty sure as soon as he's strong enough he'll try and slip from it to a new body. I can't be awake twenty-four seven to keep him all tied up in there. I'll need to study his sygaldry first. Are you gonna be okay?" he asked Lexius, after a moment.

He did well to make his concern seem casual.

"Aye." Lexius replied, as evenly as he could manage. He even took his hand off Pharlen and managed not to fall over.

"Let me lock him in there." Pharlen went him one better than stasis. She reached her claw out to touch the jar. The singing sounded eerie and odd from elongated jaws, but still had its desired effect: the jar, the glass and lid, sealed around the soul and was bound into it. Points of light danced around as she spoke, spirits whom never slept - spirits of wood, stone, animaes. She laced those in turn around it. Mesteno's name spoken within her singing would key him to the glass and allow him to work with it.

Satisfied with her work, she gave a good shake, wings rattling, and peered at the pair of men. They all looked pretty sorry at that point. "Healing or I can channel energy into you?" she offered wryly, eyeing the Elf.

Lexius closed his eyes a moment, centering. Breathing. Checking all internal parts. When Pharlen spoke, he slanted a narrowed, sidelong look to her then nodded. "The energy, if you will." He reached out to the beads, coiling his claw-like hand over her actual claw! Mesteno and that jar became the subject of his attention next.

Mesteno feigned disinterest in Lexius? condition now that he was being helped, and tucked the soul jar away into the other pocket of his jacket. "You got any more crystals prepped?" he asked Lexius, noting the absence of those around his waist.

"One." The Elf admitted.

"Well then use it!" It was hard to tell whether that tone was stern encouragement or demand.

Lexius closed his eyes again as Pharlen?s energy seeped through the connection of flesh to scale. Of anyone, hers was the closest, the best. That desert tang was just what he needed. "It does not work in that fashion." He told Mesteno calmly.

Mesteno didn't ask for Lexius to clarify, but since Pharlen seemed to be tending to his energy issues, he relented, with one last shrewd glare.

The trio took to moving about the manor once Lexius was sufficiently recovered, investigating Jetrell?s private quarters, his laboratory, stumbling over as much to add to their revulsion as they did to satisfy their curiosity for his odd combination of talents.

The final crystal Lexius had mentioned proved to be an aggravating little spindly-limbed scout which they ruthlessly sent ahead of them to alert them to traps, more than once saving them the swing of a blade, or worse. The results of Jetrell?s experiments and perversions laid bare, the sheer scale of the operation proved far more than they could tackle at once. The place was empty of anything living by the time they?d collected what few valuables they deemed too risky to leave behind and put their minds to getting back to the city.

Mesteno had been watching Lexius surreptitiously, now and then passing a palm over the pocket where he kept the Gem-infused jewel in his pocket. Finally, something felt amiss when he did so. It had brought attention their way, and he couldn?t be sure from what. Rather than do the sensible thing and mention it to the others, he gave the pocket a few experimental pats.

The crystal jabbed a leg at Mesteno. "Excessive patting!"

Of course he ceased, since it sounded perverse, but not before he?d drawn Pharlen?s eye.

The pats produced a response, surprisingly. Cool, emerald green eyes the exact shade of Gem's soul crystal peered down at the necromancer from a height of perhaps an inch over six feet. Long blonde hair the colour of ripe wheat in the sun, with golden strands reflecting like gleaming metal topped the head and face that were looking at him. Just a head. The green eyes narrowed while lips used to being in a grin pursed in thought.

"Giant head!" The crystal alerted them belatedly.

A body grew beneath the floating head.

"Body! Alert, alert!"

"..." Pharlen glanced to Mesteno again, as if his patting the crystal caused all this.

The necromancer looked displeased with the crystal. "Will you shut up for just a-..." He did the sensible thing and ignored the compulsion to smack the newly formed stranger with the staff he?d stolen from the wrecked chapel. "You here to grant me wishes or something?" He asked, but did not sound hopeful.