"Dear warlock colleague,

I'm not a fan of your attitude but I suppose that exchanging knowledge might help each other amplify our powers. Come to the library at night on the tenth day of the month if you're interested. You'll find me there.

Signed your local medium"

[[I'll catch the chance to discuss the happenings of the last sessions from her point of view a little further at this point.]]

"I knew that meeting the head of the Dark Covenant would have caused an earthquake in my life and the involvement of my family had already been confirmed, but there was no way I could have been prepared to what resulted from it."

"Let's just go over everything point by point, shall we?" She already knew she was going to regret it, and that awareness was visible all over her face: her eyes reduced to sharp slits, the wrinkles at the angles of her mouth and nose from the suppressed anger, the frown, her head tilted down as if by force.

"Among the most trusted ones the Herald has, she has Belliurm, another former General of the Eclipse that was later chosen by the god of Ruin Razaan Bel. One that not even my father ever really approved of, but that unfortunately knows about his secrets and power resources, just like the Death Titan under the mountain in Gloomfall. And this is already a tragedy in itself, because unless we have the proper means to defend these spots from now on, the only way to save them for his rituals is to negotiate." Which, from her tone of voice, clearly wasn't of Anika's liking.

"During our meeting, there was a large exchange of information from both sides, and part of the Herald's plans was also shared: her murderous intent against Drana, the satisfaction of the objectives of three different cults devoted to dark gods which simply happen to be along the way, and Kairon's purpose being similar to the object of the ritual that was being led at that moment - binding, to the very least."

"Kairon is an unfinished project that is meant to survive to the impossible, her magnum opus, as she said. A key in her path, whose purpose is currently far enough for her to not even need to resort to force to claim him back. Not that she really seems to need it," she admitted with badly concealed pain in her voice. "Some of Kairon's flaws are just evident, be them aesthetic or functional - first above all his wild surges of magic. The possibility to fix them obviously attracts him, but I can't understand how he can trust the idea to end up modified by her and her minions again! Who can tell what's going to happen once the process begins? How can he know what they're going to do to him beyond what he asks, what that's going to do to his mind, his soul?!" But she stopped herself before her voice could be raised even more, pulling back and catching her breath. She took a little pause. No more about the topic was said, and she simply turned away - she couldn't afford to admit any further in his regards.

"And what can be even told about the possibilities that we're going to discuss with the others once we reach the Deep One's lair? He's considering to make another pact. One more in his collection of Fuhes at his command, one that wouldn't need any training and extra effort to make useful until his return - only to end up cooperating with her right after, making an enemy out of everyone he was supposed to defend and fight for. Sure, he's been around for centuries, only he knows how many times this happened already, and I don't doubt his skill in that..."

"It's his ambition I fear. It's to see with my own eyes how much he's willing to sacrifice and leave behind to pursue his goals. History already proves much about it, but history speaks of a being whose alternative was to rot away with his homeworld without any hope of salvation. I'm fighting for him because I believe him changed. It's a moment of truth, and I can't afford to be betrayed by the one person, the only one person I was ready to dedicate my life, death and undeath to. My everything... I'm afraid to find out how little it's worth. Many times, he told me not to disrespect myself with such doubts. He has to prove he means it now, he has to. What will become of me otherwise..?"

One more break. She closed her eyes and tried to fill her lungs with air, only to let herself down to sit after... exhaling pure frustration. "...oh, I know. The worst realization of this whole ordeal. I know very well what would happen to me in that case, because I saw it. I saw it in Henriette's eyes."

××○○○ | ATTRACTION

○○○○○ | AFFECTION

××××○ | INTEREST

○○○○○ | LOYALTY

○○○○○ | TRUST

"Oh goodness, don't start the rethorical speeches on honesty with a stranger. Who are you to demand complete trust from someone like me? And why should I indulge a perfect mister no one that just started buzzing around me all of a sudden? With a ring full of screaming souls, nonetheless!"

The artifact that Anika held in her hands was one of simple design, but that clearly held enough power to crash down the entirety of the ruins the two were standing in if misused.

A pendant, a diamond-shaped flat stone of a deep dark hue, inscribed in ancient runes which seemed to hold a pearl in the middle. A pearl so pure, yet concentrating so much distorted energy, you could swear it could cut your spirit in two just by looking at it. It hanged loosely from a dark string, carefully tied around the medium's fingers, who barely flinched to contact with such a piece.

No, it wasn't the medallion that seemed to be driving her mad. She was fully supporting her weight by leaning on the pedestal in front of her, the one where the treasure had been held untouched for - heavens and hells knew how long. She was wounded, yet only broken statues littered the floor. They were dyed in black spots... a color that matched the stains on her dress and lips. She coughed, them straightened her back, looking down from the tall staircase to the entrance where the other warlock appeared.

The emerald flares in a sea of black that were her eyes locked onto his figure. There was silence for a bit... then she grinned.

"Not this one, ruins dweller," she called with a distorted voice. Did she even recognize him? "This one's mine."

"I wonder which one is deeper between yours and mine," the medium commented coldly with a squint of her eyes in his direction. Sometimes, it wasn't so necessary to know someone so much to tell some details. Be it the tone of voice or the retorts the man usually offered her during their short exchanges, be it his attitude or he spark in his eye: they weren't so different, after all.