Hidden within the desert South of Denim stood a holy temple, abandoned by its caretakers when Adramelech forced the Horsemen to destroy the oak savanna that once surrounded it, turning the land into a sandy desert wasteland. In its prime, the temple was bustling with attendants, and the Priests and Priestesses who maintained it were always kind and welcoming. Now even the wild animals avoided taking shelter within its dilapidated walls.

  Dásos frowned as he looked over the cracked adobe. He had visited this place many times in his long life and it was depressing to see it in such a state. Now that he had purified the immediate vicinity, the animals might return, at least, but he wondered what happened to the caretakers; If the demons were still alive and if the humans had any descendants.

  On the other side of the temple, Cimeies sat across from Keshiema in a makeshift war room at a cobbled together table. Much had happened in the nearly three days since her skirmish with Adramelech, and everyone needed to be updated on the situation.

  "I can confirm that Prince Beelzebub was murdered by Adramelech the day he brought you to the Castle." Cimeies told Keshiema.

  Directly behind Keshiema, Merihim and Asmoday took in the news. Merihim clenched his fists, still upset with his brother for betraying Keshiema, but heartbroken nonetheless at his death. Asmoday sighed deeply, sharing Merihim's view on the matter, torn by conflicting emotions.

  Pyro, who was leaning against the wall just outside the room, stormed off in a huff. He may not have been related to Beelzebub by blood but, due to a botched paternity spell, he was raised as one of Adramelech's children for several years. During that time, Beelzebub was more like a father to him than anyone else.

  As the tension rose, Keshiema nervously tapped the table with her claws. "Any news on Adramelech's next move?"

  "He teleported to Kitsi yesterday morning, and Ortha the night before. He has mages on standby to take him to Peril and Ardis today."

  "So, he's gathering the Grand Dukes." Eurynome said as he entered the room. He chose a spot behind Keshiema, a bit too close for comfort.

  "It will be quicker for him to rebuild an army that way." Asmoday agreed, gazing around the room, his stare lingering a little longer on Eurynome than anyone else.

  "I suggest you leave the area as quickly as possible. He will likely search Denim first, but it won't take long for his forces to reach this far into the outskirts."

  Cimeies's words were dull, like they were being filtered through glass or water. At least, that's how they sounded to Keshiema. She fidgeted with her moonstone pendant, her leg shaking rapidly, Fotiá's warning running through her mind.

  "We could probably leave tonight." Eurynome leaned on the back of Keshiema's chair. Having him so close, she had to focus on keeping her colors in check. "Keshiema can ride with-"

  "Eury!" Samael called his brother from the doorway. "I need your help." His powerful voice was never more welcome than in that moment.

  Grinding his teeth, Eurynome obeyed his oldest brother. As soon as the Reaper-Daemons were out of sight, Keshiema breathed easier. "We'll leave as soon as possible," She told Cimeies.

  "Don't worry," Asmoday frowned towards the doorway, "we'll think of a plan."

  "Those are all of the updates I have for now," Cimeies stood, "I will be awaiting on word for our next move." He bowed respectfully.

  "Wait, before you go," she met him at the doorway, "how is Moloch faring?"

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  Shaking his head, Cimeies patted her shoulder, "I'm sorry, but there's been no change as of yet. Farewell, Keshiema, soul frisour," he saluted her respectfully and quickly left.

  "Merihim, Asmoday," Keshiema trembled, her nerves finally breaking, silver taking over, "how quickly can we flee."

  "Let us worry about that, Kesh." Merihim smiled kindly. Now that she was used to his aura, his voice no longer turned her stomach. Or maybe it was a side effect of fully awakening. Either way, his reassurance calmed her enough to return to blue.

  "I'll walk you to Phoradendron," Asmoday offered.

  Since returning from her fight with Adramelech she had yet to be left alone. It was unspoken, but whenever she was without Dásos's company, Asmoday, Merihim, Cresil and Hiro all took turns staying with her. Usually in groups of two. It seemed to be some sort of checks and balance system. The trust between the princes was starting to break.

  She was not surprised. First Stolas had attacked her, then Beelzebub betrayed her. And now that her Primordial essence had awakened, 'No, it's in my head,' she told herself. 'Stop overthinking.' still she could not quite shake the nerves.

  Asmoday led her across the temple to Dásos. "Try to get a nap and a meal. I know the food might not be to your liking now, but you need to eat. You need to take care, kid." He never spoke her name, and she was sure it was because of his inflection. He avoided several sounds as much as possible. She wondered if it was because it bothered himself, or if he spoke that way to appease everyone else.

  "Thanks Azzy, I'll try." over the last few weeks of training and two days of constantly having him close by, she had grown quite comfortable around him. "You know, the way you talk doesn't bother me," she hoped her message was coming across clearly. "Whether you avoid certain words or not, I don't mind."

  "I will keep that in mind." He smiled. "Phoradendron will be in the garden." He gestured to the door at the end of a short hall.

  She hesitated going through the door, "Azzy?"

  "Hm?" Asmoday tilted his head.

  "I know we have to go farther than Dásos can comfortably teleport, and I don't want to leave everyone else behind anyway, but..." she winced, rubbing her eye with her hand to fight the building frustration, "I don't know how to say this tactfully,"

  "Then try bluntly," he offered.

  "I don't want to ride with Eurynome," she blurted before covering her mouth. Chromium specks danced around her icy blue eyes and thin, almost inconceivable streaks of silver riddled her blue hair as she fought to maintain control of her emotions.

  A creased brow and a deep breath told her Asmoday had something to say on the matter, but whatever those words were, he chose not to voice them. "Then you won't," He assured her.

  "Thank you, Az." She gave him a quick hug.

  "Any time, Kesh." They shared a smile as he opened the door for her.

  Seeing Dásos washed away all of her anxiety after the nerve-wracking meeting. "Day!" she called, rushing to him. As she closed the gap, he took her hand and spun her backwards to break her momentum.

  "Hey, Little Sparrow. You act like you didn't just see me at breakfast." He still held her hand.

  She played with his fingers, "I think we're leaving soon." She chose not to tell him about Eurynome joining the meeting. Too much tension in such closed quarters might turn into a deadly situation.

  Dásos noticed the silver in her hair and the way she refused eye contact, knowing exactly who caused that fear. "Have they come up with a plan?" He chose to respect her avoidance of the subject. 'She wouldn't be afraid if I hadn't told her to be wary. He hasn't done anything to warrant my wrath.'

  "I don't think so, but Cimeies said we need to hurry."

  "Mm." He sighed, giving her hand a gentle kiss, turning her hair and eyes bright pink. "Oh, that's better," he ruffled her hair. She hid her blushing face behind her neon hair and groaned, making him laugh. He studied her as she busied herself turning acorns into food, the pink slowly fading back to blue.

  'Blue,' he had a thought. "Keshiema, I know of a place we can go."

  "All of us?" She wanted clarity, knowing how he felt about the royals.

  "All who want to," he confirmed. "But I can't help anyone who refuses the protection I can offer."

  "You won't be banished for this, right?" By the tears on the brim of her eyes, he knew the silver threatened to return.

  "No, it is a place anyone may come and go, but the entrance is deeply hidden. Sorry, you're stuck with me." He put his arm around her, winking playfully.

  His flirting failed to get a blush this time, but at least her colors stabilized. "I guess we need to call a meeting then?" She asked, resting the back of her head against his chest. She was lost in thought again, trying to predict the coming conversation.

  "You know, Ice-Maidens don't become Prophets," he tried to get her mind out of the spiral. "And Seers are descended from Néro, not Fotiá," he teased, poking the mark she inherited from her grandfather, "So stop trying to read people who aren't even here."

  soul frisour = Safe dreaming (a farewell used between Friskalia)