Keshiema searched for Asmoday, following the gentle stream on Dásos's advice. Cresil lingered behind, giving her space to arrange her thoughts. Instead, she dissociated, taking in the vibrant colors and soft sounds rather than thinking about her problems.

  A game trail followed along the creek. Though it was old and slightly overgrown from disuse, it was better than nothing. Squirrels and foxes played together, crossing back and forth over the grassy path. A squirrel ran between her feet. "Ah!" She stumbled a bit, but caught her balance before falling. One of the foxes growled, admonishing the squirrel, who responded by tossing a walnut at the fox's head. Rolling her eyes, Keshiema kept down the small path.

  "Keshiema," A child spoke from behind her. Whipping around, she faced Uvall. The bright red silk covering his eyes had become tattered and stained from days spent in the wilderness. The demon looked like a child, but she knew he was at least several years older than her.

  "Oh! Hi, Uvall," She wondered briefly why they had yet to be properly introduced. Looking behind him, she noticed Hiro in the distance speaking with Cresil.

  The prophet nodded, crossing his arms and relaxing his posture. "Your aura is leaking," he gestured to her icy hands.

  "You can see?" The powers and abilities of prophets were a closely guarded secret. Few prophets existed throughout history, and even fewer ever revealed themselves.

  "I can. We have particularly sharp vision, but our powers work better when our eyes are covered. When we use red Taveran Silk, we can see auras even through the blindfold." he lifted his blindfold to reveal stunning violet eyes. "Damn, that's bright," he blinked a couple times as his eyes adjusted to the light before looking her up and down. "You're kidding me," he sneered.

  "Excuse you?" Keshiema raised an eyebrow, annoyed with the boy's tone. She was unsure his age, but he looked twelve, with the adolescent attitude to match.

  "No, sorry," he waved his hands, "You just look so different in the visions. I think Fate may have been purposefully obscuring your looks."

  "He's a bit of a character, isn't he?" She rolled her eyes, trying to laugh off how frustrated the deity had made her.

  "He sent me to give you a message. When you return to Denim, remember to trust your instincts, and you'll find what you're looking for." The words hung in the air, echoing through the trees in an unnatural way. Fate's voice joined Uvall's in a soft, almost imperceptible whisper.

  Keshiema's ears stung and her stomach churned. Dizzy and lightheaded, she gripped a nearby tree for balance. Cresil ran to her and rubbed her back, "Hey, you good?"

  'If this's what it's like secondhand, I'm not surprised Fate refused to tell me anything,' she thought. When the dizzy spell subsided, she looked up to find Uvall had left. "Come on, let's go find Azzy."

  The moon was high by the time they found Asmoday reading under a small tree with only scattered moonlight to see by. Of course, for a demon, that was hardly a problem. Hearing them approach, he gently closed his book, setting it aside. "K, thank you for coming. I thought it better to have you join me here where we won't likely be bothered. I hope you didn't have any trouble finding me."

  "No. The walk was a bit longer than I expected, but we managed fine." She sat on the ground in front of him, "You had something to share with me?"

  "When Eurynome and I were out today, we ran into a demon from the Academy. One you were quite familiar with."

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  Her heart sank as the possibilities ran through her mind. Her first thought was Sonneillon, but of course, that was impossible; She watched him dissipate. Then she thought of Tommy, but she was sure he would stay quiet for at least a while longer, given Ayperos's threat. "Azazel?" She asked, her heart racing with fear. She was sure the Satyress was over the moon since they had all been declared traitors.

  "Keshiema," Asmoday hesitated, unsure whether to tell her how Azazel had been found murdered by an unknown assailant. 'Not yet,' he thought, unsure how the news might effect how she took the information he needed to share. "Do you remember Marthim?"

  Her heart jumped into her throat as red and black swirled in her eyes. She leaned forward, digging her claws into the dirt, one covered on frost, the other scorching the ground beneath it. She fought for control, focusing on her breathing.

  Remembering Fotiá's words, she thought of her body like a box, holding a powerful ball of energy, a swirling vortex of ice and fire. When she got emotional, one easily overpowered the other, and hijacked her body to release the excess energy. She needed to stay calm.

  With one more deep breath, she straightened her posture. Her hands remained covered in frost and fire, and her emotions still showed in her appearance, but she refused to let the rage and despair take complete control. "Please, go on," she insisted, her voice strained.

  "He had been looking for you, claiming he wanted to help protect you. I ordered him to meet with Lilith. I believe he can help track the human rebellion."

  "And you trust him? Just because he said he wants to help me?" Red took over, and the ice melted. "He's a two-faced, no-good, lying, cheating, bastard!" Cresil winced at every word, knowing exactly what Marthim's position in the hierarchy was.

  "I trust him with my life." Asmoday hissed gently. "Bathin, his father, is my Second. One day, Marthim may very well take that place." It was not difficult to take him seriously, as every hiss put an edge onto Asmoday's words, every stressed syllable sending a fresh shiver down her spine.

  Keshiema looked over at Cresil, accusations written in her narrowed eyes. Cresil shrugged, "Knowing that would have made no difference for you." She shook her head, knowing he was right. "Besides, I distinctly remember advising you against dating him."

  Keshiema quickly turned back to Asmoday, who was holding back laughter, "Oh, quiet, both of you," her ears burned with mild embarrassment, and the red faded to coral. "If you trust him, that's good enough for me," she sighed. "But it doesn't change the fact that he hurt me and betrayed my trust."

  "Well," Asmoday winced, "he may not have been entirely at fault." He waited for her to take a deep breath, cool off, and listen before continuing. "At all, actually. He claimed Azazel drugged him. I can't be free of doubt with no one to perform a Recall, but I'm inclined to believe him. After her death-"

  "What?!" The interruption was more than expected. "Azazel is dead?" A heavy pit formed in Keshiema's stomach. "How? When?" Her mind raced, recalling the many demons who always sided with Azazel whenever the Satyress antagonized her. She was outgoing and persuasive, and was in great standing with most of the noble houses. "Who?" She finally asked.

  "We don't know," he let the news sink in. An array of emotions painted Keshiema's face as she stared at the ground, her hair striped gold, silver, and white, the galaxies in her eyes swirling with the same. "But, after her body had been found, the Academy reviewed her file, and found her activity to be quite deplorable. With her behavior in mind, I'm all the more inclined to believe Marthim."

  "He was drugged?" Black and red consumed her. "He didn't betray me? For all these years... I never even gave him a chance to explain." Burying her face in her hands, she let the rage and despair flow freely from her eyes. "I'm a horrible person," she cried." "I should've listened!"

  "You're young," Asmoday reasoned. "You will falter in life."

  "I, I need to go!" Keshiema ran, her smoke filled lavender aura spilling out behind her, joined this time by small flakes of snow.

  "Well that's new," Cresil waved his hand through Keshiema's aura and examined the flakes on his glove, which lingered much longer than expected. Respectfully saluting to Asmoday, Cresil turned to leave.

  "Off to inform Phoradendron?" The Serpent asked, wanting to ensure they were on the same page.

  Cresil nodded, "I'm sure he will know via the trees, but I'll make sure he knows she's run off. In her state, she's going to want to be alone."

  "You had better hurry then," he urged the Impure. Neither wanted to say it aloud, but both worried for her. Despite being in the safest place in all of Vitera, a sense of dread and urgency loomed over them.