"I understand the need for haste, but at the expense of craftsmanship." Mikaél responded to the part of Maerik's days recap that diverged from appreciation of well rest to include his journey to Heartscape and dropping his Axe (probably on some poor souls skull) while he plowed a hole in the level above them exterior walls and barriers. "Surely, you and your companion mean to mend?" He side-eyed area the burly simpleton traded a mint conditioned chair with his comfort in mind for an overgrown beast. He had hoped he would never make use of it with his prolonged absence not incivility. stewing in his annoyance Mikaél missed the others warm banter come to an abrupt halt. He missed the last clink of several cups hitting the table in fatality and the brightening of the room with a cosmic amount light mimicking the violent hues of the night sky on its last hour. An extra audience to the final missed guest. A halo over dancing over Nerium , perched in a delinquent squat as if to say : this one. This one Lord Misha give him to us.

  A chest gasp from his neighbor. Mikaél wasn't the last to perceive Misha, that unfortunate prize was reserved for the target, but was the least conflicted about how to keep everyone from destroying his space. "Misha," Mikaél struggled to stand in a natural manner, making his way through what felt like sludge. "My friend." He tucked the sleeves of his robe, swinging his arm in an opening gestured. And with that the room was calm like air fizzing away from a trapped balloon. The space dimmed, their uninvited guest uninterested in calmer discussions. The eyes of his neighbor chose a rolling wave versus a conflicted storm and the other shifted from pretending to sleep to making it a reality. The shortest one in the room leaned on Oshun who never appears to relax to untrained company. Maerik pounced to his feet from his quarter lunge, shifting from defensive to openly friendly embracing Misha in a restrictive hug.

  "It warms my efforts that you were able to sleep well." Mikaél smiled faintly, while Misha looked over the matted head of his overgrown chain to its possible true culprit, Solánine dubiously. "your travels were of great distance. Have a seat, a drink." He held up his glass as an example.

  Maerik gave one final squeeze, slightly lifting Misha off the ground as he flexed his full height, his spine echoed a thanks through its long seen stretch. "A hand placed on mine is one forever held." He laughed bouncing like a boxer patting Misha before returning to his live cushion.

  Misha, uncomfortable with the inadvertent turn events took the long way around to his open seat and proceeded to slip into the background, enamored with every detail of glass.

  "Let us resume. Maerik request bodies and investigation. As stated : " Mikaél examined the notes he managed to scribble down in the brutes story telling. "There are not only mindless creatures not made by yourself, but of them are beyond freshly dead and there were no found or reported disturbed graves. You forced the tribes in your care to toss their dead into the Endless Pyre[ Cursed Fire that burns day and night. It expands .08” every year (months)], but there is still a rise in enemies. Is this correct?"

  — "And there's other things. Raeiz, things like you've never seen, of true nightmare." Maerik stood up to tell his own story. "That's what almost took The Blood Not Drank Shared, Freddrick ." He reached down and gave the overgrown beast of a man, that lounged behind three chairs a hearty pat affirming his life. "We got them all that night; the Things and creatures. Even the harshest breeze can't bend us" , he flexed his muscles. "but towards the end. We set up camp, had a nice challenge and full belly as reward. A thing as tall as trees, stitched together snail suckers just came with no warning, presence or smell. Even at the end of our day we took it, but the things blood and flesh reached inside." Maerik watched his knuckles break, nails expand and curve to a point to take that point and drive it into his torso.

  His friend's head sat up startled, but not surprised as he laid back on his crossed paws while Maerik spread his blood across his palms inspecting. "It fought something inside us." He continued as if he could find the warrior in his makeup. "I haven't been this close to dying since I did it the first time. If I still had my heartstone[ A dense Curved stone that cradles a vampire heart. Its connected to their power and life force. Only those who are born or incredible old pose one. Most that start there life out as another species don’t have one.]." He shook a way that thought. "I remembered the gathering today and took a gamble on the best living healer showin' ." He smiled, drawing a curve around his heart then slapped a relaxed open palm over it, presenting a clean palm to Solánine. "By your grace."

  "Grace blankets all, here I shiver." Nerium mumbled and was meet with a hiss or growl from everyone present except for the one who it was meant to wound.

  "Moving on." Mikaél adjusted his glasses ."Priority should be investigation. Do you have a sample?"

  "No, It burns in orange sunlight."

  Mikael sighed. He wasn't committed to begin with and Maerik brings an empty basket.

  "Oh," Djinn clapped her hands with an idea. Most who already caught on stifled a chuckle or an eye roll. "you can solicit an artist. How about 19.1 Nala? I have someone in mind that could dig the image, right up out your brain. Extra 2 for delivery and 5 for safety."

  "I could go to them," Freddrick offered. "I noticed the Things first . Had the most close up view, too."

  "My poor little Artist would be frighten to death if you walked up. look at you, the size of two carriages, at least."

  "Freddrick!" Maerik looked incredulous at his friend. "I'm much more frighting", he puffed out his chest.

  "In that case," Her mouth outstretched like a hungry predator. "They must go to you with not only a competent guard but companion to ease their mind. How about a steal of 26.2?"'

  "I've heard rumors of a Titian." Freddrick's low rumble purred inside everyone's skull.

  "Afeni," She sung. " My gentle General just so happen to be a wee taller than house is loved by all in Macros. Do you mean to say something, puppy?"

  Freddrick looked for assistance from the suddenly preoccupied crowd then to his long time friend lost in thought on what a Nale, Artist, or even why a Titian was brought up. He shook his head solemnly before he agreed to the deal.

  "Yes!" She beamed. "I'll also accept living wood as well." Then she turned her gaze to Oshun. "Commander," she laid her head on her breast , doe eyes burning into her side.

  "I can only offer, one's not present in Finsole. I believe one of my top students should suffice and his contract should be up for recycle. O'kkelos should suffice. Do mind issuing him a pass?" Oshun directed her request to Mikaél who quickly agreed because he had no need for names he did not know.

  "On that note request for bodies have been denied that is a private matter for you to handle."

  "What!" Maerik shot up. "you have plenty roaming this cellar. I have as much claim to them. I've laid more bricks here than your flower fingers in your borrowed seat."

  "How about Volunteers?" Oshun suggested. "He is correct. It is not in his nature to request assistance. Turning him down without good explanation when Heartscape is in good standing and thriving from all our efforts here."

  "That won't yield result. I don't govern them directly and encouraging an excursion that will certainly lead to their deaths will be impossible with the will of the current inhabitants."

  "But it would be some effort put towards your duty."

  "Yes." Mikaél conceded. "A post will be placed thought-out all levels."

  "Your people will be thrilled to hear from you." Djinn squealed.

  He smiled faintly unable to hold a stern disposition under her praise. "Next," the rustling of page flips. "Finsole". Mikaél met Oshun’s eyes sweeping over to Solánine. "I have actually mulled over this one. I speculate that it's an after image of a woman with deeds undone relating to either someone in uniform, a guard position, or even a vampire. Heavy on the possible of misdeeds. I don't believe it warrants a quarantine, but a private investigation."

  "How dare you!" Oshun stood burning with a rage that her seat barely withstood, reaching out for a halberd that did not answer her call in a room meant to enforce preset rules of its host. The shift in energies roused Hanahl who quickly interpreted Oshun's wounded pride and whom inflicted it. He carefully stood up side-stepped Chiel, pushed his chair up against the table and stood witness at the head of the table. Nerium seeing a man that wouldn't be startled with a splitting of mountain stand, so he didn't hesitate to follow suite, stumbling to the ground and rolling to his side. without looking away Hanahl grabbed the young man under his pit and lifted him to his feet.

  "What problem is he solving with his life?" Maerik whispered loudly to the two out of the way while Djinn stood up taking the foot of the table, opposite the two men.

  "People are taking their own life in great numbers or dying abnormally in about half of Finsole's towns after hearing singing." Hanahl relayed while the Maerik nodded along. "ah," he took an open place next to the other two men failing to hide a goofy grin.

  "wait." Mikaél held up one open palm, stowing his glasses out of the way. "I misspoke in my excitement. I meant to imply an older entity."

  "A heavy blunder." Oshun hissed. "you took my warning as pleading and invitation to tear down not only my character but all those I shelter." She gripped the table, knuckles facing inward, table splintering like pulling apart stale bread. Misha held his cup as one half stood up on its side like an upright tombstone too close to his left thigh, quietly slurping his consistently body temperature blood.

  She took, easy, full bodied steps looming over Mikael like the reaper at his door. "I should scatter just enough of you on every level of this relic you begged to keep standing that you must beg every inhabitant to find every piece or destroy you to rebuild you."

  "Lady of Finsole," a voice like a cold breeze tickling the inner canals brought all eyes to Solánine, poise and still as a carefully crafted sculpture of soft snow. "I received your letters and evidence, as well. Mikaél’s tongue is heavy, he is one in this room who's old values and positions is presently being unlearned." Her eyes moved, separating from rest of her rigid silhouette over to Djinn. "I presume to have had more leisure to contemplate and sum up conclusions. One: A malignant Blood Ability or Cultural Ties. Two: Calamity of negative moral. Three: Protected land lashing out and yes lastly without presumed actions an After Image. A trickster or a lonely one."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Mikaél sighed and unfastened knots , loosely holding his top. He folded his top inside out, small enough to fit into cupped hands then placed it in Hanahl's seat just in time to be pierced through the throat by straight, thin, long fingers in the place of a cleaner, out of reach spear.

  "hmmm," Misha cleaned his cup, licking the bottom. "you have burned the life that you meant to shelter. She would've let him speak more." He watched her yank out his trachea, spilling his borrowed blood into his cupped palms. She took her prize and lowered it into her throat, ceremoniously guiding it whole down her stomach, leaving the evidence like messily applied battle makeup. When the final piece of Mikaél reached Oshun’s belly she physically snapped each finger nail and dropped them at Mikaél’s feet.

  Oshun looked towards Hanahl and received a firm nod. She looked to Maerik and received a curved hand against his chest. She looked over Mikaél to Solánine who contemplated momentarily. "I would like to be called forth retribution."

  "An open welcome in my name." Oshun extended a pass to her territory with no expiration and received a small nod in return.

  Djinn looked to the disfigured body contemplating her place in the group. A quick, almost unnoticed nod from Hanahl encourage her response with enthusiasm. Then, Oshun’s eyes laid on Misha's.

  "Misha Raeiz, Follower of Adez (ah-dey-zhay) Reignelystr XL." A thick sadness drowned the room. Misha gripped the cup in his hand like a life boat he could fall in and take him somewhere else, anywhere else. Screams and cries from echoes long moved on overlayed one another within his psyche, threating to crash in on reality. The too enthused unwelcomed guest returned with force , it's seizure inducing dancing for blood, burning the eyes of the youngest one in room. "What's going on?" He dug into his eyes as if blind himself further would cure his current predicament while Hanahl held him upright by the scruff of his neck. "something cruel in the name of respect." Hanahl growled and everyone who could hissed in agreeance, but she finished.

  "Our hero."

  The empty cup made of durable metal and the gift of a dragon scale combined with several millennium intellectual ability first used in shields against said dragons and their next best vampires, squeaked then separated, lodging themselves into Misha's hands and chin as if the chemical reaction that melded them together cease to existed for a fraction of a second. The lights stilled themselves. Tears of blood fell joining each drop that slipped off his hands into large disk until they ran clear, coming into a steady river, two for each soul and one more for what could have been. The one that was a match for it all; blood running dry into their own palms for rules placed upon them that held higher weight for a role gifted to him. How many failures lay behind Misha? He shouldn't've come, only to see old friends, to see what they have built, to see a love abandoned or an enemy that still stands protected. He should not have come. He should not be here.

  Chiel held still, holding his breath and silencing all performance of living. A primal part of his being told him, he could not move an inch even in the metaphysical if he wanted a concept of him to remain as a force appeared in the room like suddenly being trapped in tar that solidified to a brick wall all around him. He wondered if he could bother his master for a moment to save his life. Everyone still, no slowed. He could see what previously looked like bits or clusters of illumined lint had various forms from snowflakes, spiders with to many legs, virus, pigs, or full humanoid forms bouncing up and down in a wide squatted praise. Why do they seem familiar? Is this what happens when you die for the final time? The contract between Hanahl and himself burned hidden away underneath his hairline as if begging him to fight for a life he wasn't giving away.

  'What is wrong with him today?' Hanahl deeply exasperated, exhaled. 'Let's move this along.' He walked over to Chiel. Nerium still stood supported by his hand as if hadn't left. Hanahl bit his lip enough to paint them red, moved away Chiel's hair then pressed glazed lips over the contract he made with Chiel to fight for his life. Then took a lazy step and borrowed a cup full of Mikaél’s blood from his palms. Effortlessly, parting Chiel jaws he poured it all in. Lastly, he took his ring finger and drew a circle, centered on Mikaél’s forehead before taking up his previous position, Nerium nape in his hand.

  "I give my protection and close this dispute." Hanahl announced. Momentary confusion blinked across most faces. The palatable negativity in the air drew in like low tide in a tsunami, taking up waves over Misha. His face dried on Hanahl's last syllable. It rose to meet a wide eyed sunrise. Solánine's hand hung in the air as if she reached out to console an adorable dog and it bit her hand in response. When she caught her own horrified expression mirrored in Misha's own she hid away in eyes of storm.

  Misha composed himself —enough to function. "Lady Oshun", he stood, a smile struggling to manifest. "My Long...friend." His eyes met the first sign of respect; a hand curved into the shape of a heartstone across her chest. And the other, clear eyes of unwavering admiration. "You have errored in your passions." He sighed looking around the room from person to person landing crestfallen on the nearest half of a broken table knowing the efforts Mikaél would have put into even the smallest of placement. "knowing this is punishment enough, none in witness will press further."

  "I-I could not." Oshun considered his words carefully before relenting that indeed, by their own code the target of her hurt should have been directed at Misha. The man that brought Mikaél to them and whose protection he still stands. In correcting Mikaél she made the same error of a higher caliber. "understood."

  Later, Oshun would think of an appropriate apology Mikaél would heavily appreciate. Now, she placed a bloody thumb print at the center of Hanahl's circle after Maerik, Djinn and Solánine added theirs and offered protection. "As one this is closed. I offer my hand for a sip to welcome you back into our home." Oshun lifted Mikaél’s head, thrusting her still dripping finger tips into his throat until her fingers went numb and his skin sealed around them. While, Misha drew symbols on the back side of the table calling the two halves to be whole once more. To Chiel, Freddrick, and Djinn there was a broken pieces then in a blink there were empty glasses held up by a table as they took their seats.

  "Report. Report from O'kkelos of Finsole, Borrowed hand." A voice that was a series of vibrations was felt and not really heard as the door open, a man staggered inside covered scrapes, dried blood and bruises in various state of healing, gasping for air holding up a small cage covered in cloth. It shook and clattered to the ground as the small beast inside fought to be set free. "L-lord Vherion I-I have delivered -" He looked up, taking in large quantities of air on habit more than necessity to see all the lords full attention on him including something large that shared canine-like features, his tasker mid wiping down his current bosses face, the reason for the pain behind his eyes and the lady that was behind him at the time.

  What was he to do? He didn't think beyond the painfully assigned task. He knew the meeting was still underway, but he also knew it was unusually for all invited parties to be present. Who do he greet first; is boss and commander, his current caretaker, the Ladies, the one closest or his tasker? Did his tasker or current caretaker want to be acknowledge in their current entanglement? He knew they were all close, but no one could guess the pairings. There were rumors, whispers about the Lady Oshun, but to think Master Mikaél.

  "Ooooo...What's that?" Nerium appeared too close to his face. "Misha Can I have it? Can I eat it?" He grinned poking at the cage that began to growl like it smelled fresh meat. "Ohhhh! I know what it is." Nerium lightly tapped on the twisted metal, graduating to drumming with both hands.

  "Come sit." Oshun sighed.

  "Why did you bring this here Mr. Cadaver?" Nerium ignored the older woman effortlessly.

  Should he answer this man who appears fresh marrying age with a heart loud enough to hear? Did he belong in the room? Was he a lord or something they picked up? Mentorship or adoption was quite common in the old society of vampires, if they found you exceptional or just plain interesting. O'kkelos glanced over the man he took his eye to Misha, his preoccupied and uninterested tasker. Then decided to err on the side of caution least he loose something a little less temporary. "Sir, it was a request. The child was hurting themselves and it's efforts to be free of the hallway."

  "This is how you treat children?" It was his boss, Oshun who spoke up. One of the main purposes of those who work and train in Finsole is to rescue and house the weak, voiceless, and most importantly children. O'kkelos stood up straight into attention. "Commander, it is unharmed, but precautions had to be taken for containment and delivery. It isn't in the mind for understanding or conversation." He bent and removed the clothe from the cage of a trembling little beast who had grew 15% since the last it was seen.

  "Oh, Valentine!" Djinn quickly bit her finger, noticing what was contained. "come here little one."

  "NO!" all who understood, rushed to stop her.

  "Look at him." She cooed and everyone did in time to catch Nerium retracting his fingers from the cage, taunting the overwhelmed little beast. "Just a bit. He needs it."

  "He could get addicted." The other women warned.

  "Then, its too late." Djinn whispered brushing aside the hands on her and making it to the child, placing a snack (a third of her finger) inside. The hairs on the cub relaxed. His growls became purrs and his eye lids that fought to stay up lost the battle. He was peacefully asleep.

  "soooo boring, no one died today." Nerium complained, throwing himself out on the floor like an overgrown toddler.

  Djinn walked around Nerium, took her small cage and cradled it in her lap at her seat. After, O'kkelos exited, informed of his new duty to escort an Artist from Macros to Xiuhutae and back. A rewarding task that he welcomed at the coming end of his tenure in Heartscape. After Mikaél received accelerated healing from Misha the rest of the review went by with patience and without excitement. After Solánine’s tale of lost travelers and distorted screams. Chiel was the last to speak following on behalf of his master; providing a document retelling a villagers prayer to wake his family.

  The villager had picked various fruit to eat with his family from Hanahl's Garden and after eating the last his family fell into a dead like sleep. The villager in question assumed he had wronged his lord and believed he was killing his family slowly as punishment. Chiel knowing his master had no so such ability questioned other villages and towns that were comfortable with his presence for any similar stories. He found 27 other bodies, some even buried alive or later died of other causes. There was no overlap of age, sex, species, color pattern, or cultural abilities. He reminded the room his long useless degree and primary skill set was not in fauna, agriculture or biology. Nor, was he exceptionally fast or prophetic. He understood Nerium was viewing him as a plaything, yet he answered with respect and seriousness.

  His Lord, Hanahl had sat up, sliding page after page away from Mikaél's post survived pile viewing sketches a few seconds longer than others and doubling over side notes. "Two legs, two arms, no more than three eyes, upright, limited fur/hair…" He listed, pointing them off to Chiel.

  "'owbout wha max 'em diffent than the wun da live?" Nerium leaned back, exaggerated every hard constant, boredom setting in with Chiel’s contribution. people on his ships died every week because some race was unaware eating eighteen feet crustacean would eat them back.

  Everyone waited expectantly while Chiel studied his own notes, thinking he should've wrote more than : Jhan barry , janburri, one berry, five teeth, cracked skin, smells about the man. He tried to picture the conversation, but he was coming up blank. it was as if his memory couldn't reach past the cobblestone of Heartscape. How did he make it to La Rahim and back in a timely manor? he shook that line of thinking away, unnoticed by most. "ears," he blurted it out.

  "Ears?" Oshun questions.

  "none?" Maerik filled in his own blank, excitedly, "Ground people!" He loved touching them for their soft skin when he saw them , but only a few dig over to his region.

  "long, like -" Chiel made droopy air mug handles around his face. "his family had long ears. most..." he eyed pointy ears, curved ears, upright and large cone shape ears. "They all extend more than two or three inches from the face."

  "Then it is something to put attention to." Oshun caressed Djinn's ear tips.

  "In the mean time, halting trade?" Mikaél wondered, tapping his page.

  "we don't -"

  "My garden does not produce enough for trade. Many of them are invaders sprouted from spoilt offering."

  "A notice to postpone after death rituals?" Mikael looked to Oshun the one most likely to enforce. Then to the two most likely to protest at the other end of the table.