It was rapid fire. The images before him were going through like a reel of film, and though he felt a part of it, Jove was more a witness than an active participant.

The forest shot by him. Bushes and trees mingled, a thick canopy overhead hinted by the densely packed undergrowth. Noises in the distance, the smell of fresh blood. He felt a mixture of foreboding and anticipation, and to be honest, a splash of excitement. He pushed through the bushes, and then in a flash found himself sat upon a bed. He saw a blur of orange before him, for just a moment, then stood from the bed and stood in the center of the street.

Beside him was a form, humanoid, but he couldn't tell much more than that. Even the blobs gender was unknown, but he knew that it had become night time. The moon hung high overhead, its fullness illuminating the streets below in a silver light. Words were exchanged between himself and the blob, but they were still a conglomerate of muffled words and reverberation. The two walked down the street, turned the corner, then stood somewhere new.

It was a home, he thought. It felt like home if nothing else. The building was certainly not what it once was, at least he hoped. Certainly this had to be a deteriorated state, and not what someone built by intent.

He felt high off the ground, and before him again was the blob. He could make out a color now. It was as though the once colorless form had taken in the glow of the moon. The sounds it made were less muffled, and by the tone he could tell it a woman. She spoke, but not to him. The orange from before, shorter in stature than himself or the blob, stood in a way that looked like his hands were on his hips. As the blob turned its attention to him, he saw it slowly start to crumble into dust.

He felt panicked. His heart was racing as he saw the crumbling away of the formless shape, being pulled through the air like the sands of time on wind. He rushed forward, yet the faster he ran the more it felt like the distance grew. He couldn't close the gap, and the rest of the world around him began crumbling into the same dust. The white glow, the home, the memories. All were gone, like dust in the wind.

Suddenly he stopped and felt it. A suffocating presence, something foreign, invading his mind. He felt as if he were trapped in a cave, as if a foreign presence were assaulting his mind. He felt himself crumbling, falling into the same wind. He closed his eyes, and a sort of peace enveloped him. A peace in memories that didn't make themselves clear now, but were as much a part of him as his DNA. He felt like he could relax into it. He could go, knowing he had lived his story. He felt the peace like a white light, a beautiful white with just a splash of red.

"You found me."

His eyes shot open, his body immediately spiking to a ninety degree angle in bed. The light covers fell from his body, revealing a chest and stomach devoid of scars but rippled through consistent effort. His chest heaved, and a cold sweat dripped from the tip of his nose and onto the bed. His face swung around, ensuring that his surroundings were still there in tangible form, before closing his eyes. He took a couple of deep breaths, one after the other, to steady his nerves.

Then, he fell back onto the bed with his arms out wide.

His eyes were open, tired and emotionless, as his mouth closed and his breathing went back to normal. He looked up at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face. The images he had only just seen had already started their descent into obscurity. Raising a single hand to his face, he brushed his hair from his forehead and pressed his palm to his hairline, holding the strands away from his eyes.

He lay there, motionless, for just a few moments before deciding he wouldn't be going back to sleep. Standing and glancing at the clock, he saw that it wasn't yet late. Ten at night, on the dot.

He stood from the bed and walked himself to the shower, turning on the sink and splashing his face with cold water. Using a dry cloth, he slowly patted away the sweat that had accumulated from his dream, then got dressed. He was casual, by his standards. A pair of khakis, black shoes that looked suitable for work but missing any sort of laces, and a button up blue shirt that he took up to the third to last button. It exposed just below his collar bone, up to his neck.

Stepping out into the cold night air, and locking his motel room behind him, he began walking down the street and rolling his sleeves up.

He didn't have to go long before he found himself at the only pub within a few blocks, the Swineherd. He didn't hesitate, pushing the door open and making his way through the sparsely filled room and finding a seat right at the bar, all the way at the end on the right side.

Despite the lack of business, the bartender took his time. A few minutes passed before he finally made his way to Jove, taking his order for a glass of whisky on the rocks. As the owner of the establishment stepped away, Jove found peace in the fact that the dream had all but slipped from his mind. He remembered the mix of emotions he'd felt throughout seeing it, but the details of it had already crumbled away at the base, leaving only emotion and intent behind.

"What was that." His words came out quietly, directed only to himself, as the glass was pushed before him and the bartender gave him a questioning look. He didn't stick around though, going back to his job. No doubt he was use to seeing strangers in a city like Oak, especially when he owned such a famous establishment, but something about Jove seemed to make him weary. Perhaps the old man could sniff out Rune Knights.

Taking a sip from his drink, and feeling the maple aged liquid cool his throat, he placed it down and let out a content sigh that came after drinking ice cold alcohol. He just needed to take his mind off of whatever it was that had just happened in his subconscious.

The grass felt soft beneath her lithe frame and cozily tugged into the meadow, Nuala’s lashes fluttered when a warm breeze sent a singular leaf towards her. With quiet amusement she watched it land at the tip of her nose until another gust of wind carried it away. The thief was drowsy from her nap and still drugged with sleep, she turned sideways and closed her eyes again. Her mortal body felt so heavy. “Again,” she whispered and slowly sat up. Strands of dark hair fell into her pale face and even though her Voidling marks had long faded, the bright purple colour of her eyes remained.

Nuala had fallen asleep by the woods again.

Her stomach groaned and the woman realised with no small amount of irritation that she was starved for food. Nuala had lost weight in the previous months and her usually strong frame was more delicate now than ever. She had lost a lot of her prowess too, but the thief didn’t want to think about that – at least not for another while. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and slowly stood up. Nuala had been dreaming a lot lately, ever since she’d become human again. It was nonsense mostly and she didn’t think too deeply about it.

When Nuala reached for her cloak on the ground, she noticed something from the corner of her eye. There, just a few feet from where she had been sleeping, a stark white flower bloomed beautifully under the moon. The woman blinked, realizing that even though she’d never seen a flower bloom at night before, it seemed strangely...familiar. Not knowing why her heart had begun aching at its sight, she turned around and left.

The Swineherd Pub was Nuala’s best chance at finding something to eat during this hour of the night, as most of the inns and restaurants had already closed down. It was by no means a fancy place, but perhaps that was just what the ragged looking woman needed. Nuala wore her usual thief-y attire: black clothes, knee-high boots and a cloak that covered her slender frame, but did little to hide the weariness in her features. Her hair had grown long and uneven and she kept it in a loose, low ponytail.

At her hip sat a sole, lonely dagger.

“You look hungry,” said the bartender, who had approached in the meantime and now eyed Nuala with a knowing look. The girl only nodded and gratefully threw a few coins onto the counter when he poured her a jug of mead. Her small hands quickly wrapped around the wooden pitcher and she greedily took a few sips before wiping her mouth. It hadn’t tasted good when she was still Voidling, but now it had become strangely bearable. Like everything, really.

A few minutes later he brought her some beef stew. “Thank you,” she said quietly and began digging into the meal. She had been starved for food in every sense of the word, but not on purpose. Nuala simply forgot to eat on a regular basis after not needing to for almost six decades. The thief didn’t pay attention to her surroundings or the other people inside the bar. She no longer read every room that she entered and didn’t bother seating herself somewhere by a window to secure an easy escape route.

Nuala didn’t pay attention to the man sitting down next to her until he reached for the dagger at her side. Slowly turning her head towards him, a piece of beef still in her mouth, the woman furrowed her brows and leaned away from him.

“Can..can you not?”

Jove hadn't been paying attention to the new arrival, instead staring intently at the amber liquid swirling around the glass. The clinking sound of the ice within acted as a distraction from the world around him. It wasn't as if he was intentionally trying to block out his surroundings. Rather, he had gone alone to drink and was doing his best to enjoy his alone time. It wasn't often that the Rune Knight was able to stick to the work schedule he had set for himself. Often he had to work extra hours, due in part to the firm assertion that a Knight was always on the clock. It was a policy he himself hated, and intended to continue to file grievances about.

Yet aside from that thought of the ridiculous working working arrangement and never ending hours, without opportunity for overtime pay, he stuck around. It wasn't as though he thought himself a hero, nor anything else so self important. He wasn't so conceited to believe he was anything other than a man. Yet still, the woman who had come in finally caught his attention when he heard her voice raise. She no longer addressed the barkeep. Someone else had drawn her attention, and judging by the concerned and irritated tone, her ire.

Glancing over to see her pulling away in her seat from the man who sat beside her, his hand still outreached toward her waist, Jove slowly placed his glass back upon the countertop. A deep sigh, somewhere from within his gut, escaped.

"Would you mind not causing problems?" His voice was deep, a natural rumble to his words that seemed contradictory to his rather mundane appearance. The would-be thief snapped his gaze over to Jove, eyes dancing between the man at the end of the bar and the woman beside him who he'd thought would be an easy target. In an instance of fight or flight, it seemed as if he liked his odds.

"What's it to ya? You a Rune Knight or some shit?"

His voice held a sense of vitriol in an attempt to come across intimidating. "Yes, and I'm trying to be off the clock." His response was to the point. Rather than a sense of confidence or challenge in his tone, Jove sounded bored and borderline annoyed. The man glanced to the girl, then back to the knight. His mouth opened and closed, as if looking for words, then finally settled under his breath. "...Seriously?"

He glanced to the bartender, who nodded and shrugged. It seemed that he had a hunch ever since the blond male arrived, and all it took was his confirmation for the failed criminal to stand and scowl. Despite his bravado and tough exterior he left the bar without making a further scene. Whether it be the presence of the knight, the failed attempt at whatever he had been up to, or the unwillingness to cause a problem in the esteemed pub, he found his way to the exit without much more of a problem.

Perhaps this was the point in which the Rune Knight was suppose to say something. To follow up with the woman who had just been at the center of this tiny exchange, to ensure her safety and well being. However, he hadn't been lying when he said he was off the clock and wanted to stay that way. Rather than say anything to her, he sipped again at his whisky which had now started running low.

Instead of needing to order more, the bartender was now much more vigilant. He came over, eyeing Jove with suspicion, but slid another glass in front of him. Nodding his thanks, the businessman finished his nearly empty glass and wrapped his hand around the new drink as the ruminants of the old were ushered away. Like that, it seemed silence could once again fall upon them.

Nuala’s lips parted, but when someone else raised their voice first, the former Voidling quickly shut her mouth and chewed down the last bits of her meal. She didn’t expect anyone to step up for her, but at the same time she wasn’t surprised when the blonde revealed his profession. Nuala wanted to almost roll her eyes – she’s had enough of knights and captains for a lifetime after all. Still, Nuala was grateful that the situation had resolved itself and the man bothering her decided to leave the bar.

Before he departed however, the woman turned to look over her shoulder and shot him a final, menancing glance. She might be human now, but the threat she posed didn’t disappear and neither had the icy cold that always seemed to surround her. Only the darkness of the void had somehow dissolved, but it didn’t strip away any of Nuala’s natural edge and gloominess.

She glanced at the bartender, who looked back and forth between her and the knight, shrugged and then offered him a drink on the house. Nuala didn’t say anything at first, mostly because of how annoyed he’d seemed by the entire situation, but she eventually felt a sense of guilt and after taking a long sip from her jug of mead, the thief awkwardly turned her head towards the man and gestured around helplessly.

“Uh,” she started and looked back at the bartender for support, who gave her a quick nod of approval before turning away to do the dishes. “Thanks.” The trouble maker had since disappeared from the Swineherd Pub. “I mean, I could have handled it myself – not that I’m trying to sound ungrateful or anything,” the words came out with difficulty and once Nuala thought she’d made her point, she turned her face away abruptly and continued to pick around in her now almost empty bowl.

The bartender peeked around the corner from the kitchen and shook his head at her in disappointment. Irritated by this, Nuala mouthed the words “what” and “whatever” at him before rolling her eyes and uttering a sigh.

“Right, and next round’s on me I guess.”

The girl gave a verbal pause, her hesitation coming across as discomfort. It mattered not whether Jove himself was making her uncomfortable, or if she was simply not use to socializing. He had come here in order to have a couple of drinks, and had intended to do so alone in the first place. So, rather than pursue a conversation, he sat back in his chair and lifted his second glass of whiskey to his lips. He felt the warmth envelop his chest as he swallowed it down, and the taste of the aged beverage fill his mouth. Letting out a content sigh, he placed the glass back to the table as she actually spoke up once more.

She thanked him, and Jove simply glanced at her and raised his glass in a sort of pseudo cheers. She continued on about how she hadn't technically needed his help, but appreciated the thought behind his actions. It seemed she simply wanted him to understand that she was capable, and that she hadn't been reliant on outside help. "I understand. I don't think either of us wanted to deal with the situation."

In truth, he'd spoken up for selfish reasons. He wasn't acting in the pretense of being a Rune Knight. Had he not been directly asked he'd have never mentioned it in the first place. He had come here in order to relax, not to work. Sadly, relaxation was partially dependent on the silencing of the man who was threatening to disrupt the atmosphere. He had spoken for his own convenience, not her protection. At least, that's how he'd explain it if she pushed the issue.

As she offered him a reward, he hesitated. This wasn't shown through his actions. He didn't freeze in position, or demonstrate a physical stutter. He found himself mildly caught off guard, sure, but he gave no physical expression that would hint at that. "I appreciate that." Rather than have someone feel indebted, better to accept the drinks and conversation so that everyone could leave feeling like equals.

With that intent in mind, Jove realized that he couldn't just allow silence to dominate the space between them. She was now offering him a drink, and seemed to want to demonstrate a level of equality between them. The knight then put his drink down and glanced at her.

Looking at her for the first time, he realized she didn't fit the normal clientele of the Swineherd. She had long purple hair and amethyst eyes, for one, which were unique traits in their own right. She was also indisputably beautiful, well beyond that of the average customer. He didn't linger, glancing at her for only a second or two before speaking. "So what brings you to the Pub? I assumed I'd be one of the only ones waking up around this time of night."

“Right,” said Nuala and quietly swallowed the last bites of her dinner. The woman suppressed the urge to snort at the awkward air between them – clearly neither the knight nor the thief were good at holding conversation. The bartender returned with a glass of whiskey for Nuala and she thanked him with a nod before pushing back a thick strand of her purple hair. He halted for a moment, observing them both before placing down the glass and Nuala’s gaze rose to meet him. “Her kind doesn’t sleep much,” the bartender then remarked with what appeared to be a hint of a smile on his lips. Almost simultaneously, Nuala’s expression darkened and the corners of her mouth dropped.

The image of a Lich flashed before her eyes and the woman took a careful look around the establishment, but there was nothing suspicious about it. Slowly reaching for the glass, Nuala eyed the bartender, who clearly knew more than he let on, and took a sip. The golden brown liquid burned in her throat and even though there was something distasteful about it, she felt a sense of satisfaction shortly afterwards. A few years had passed since Daeva Eye and its collection of devilish females had ruled the eastern parts of Fiore in its entirety and while new guilds popped up everywhere with disturbing frequency, it seemed that some hadn’t forgotten about the force that once was their matriarchy.

Since then, Nuala was only a shadow of her former self and almost all of her friends had disappeared, presumably for good. A truth the former Voidling found hard to accept and was still fighting against.

“I’m looking for something,” the purple haired responded to Jove, but didn’t turn to face him. Her eyes were still glued to the bartender, who was now pretentiously polishing some of his glasswares. “And someone, I guess. Lots of people move through this place, so I figured he,” she gestured towards the bartender, who shot her a glare, “..might know something.” Nuala’s search hadn’t been very fruitful thus far, but at the same time the thief hadn’t actively searched either. Other problems had arisen and she’d found herself occupied with taking care of herself first.

“Maybe the knight knows something,” the bartender then suggested and Nuala put her glass down. “Maybe he does,” she said softly and this time turned around to look at Jove. “He deals with criminals every day after all.” Nuala’s head whirled around and she growled at the bartender. “Look who’s talking.” To most people, the rumours of a Lich owning the Swineherd Pub was just that – a rumor – but Nuala knew it to be true and so did the bartender.

“Anyways,” the thief continued and crossed her legs. It appeared that just a few sips of the alcoholic beverage had made her quite talkative. “I’m looking for a female vampire lord, a man who wears a jawbone on the right side of his face and a swordsman with a legendary golden blade. Does that ring any bells?” Nuala wasn’t even considering the fact that Kenzo and Finn were long dead and that Kaiser had been locked into a coffin and thrown into the ocean. She wasn't ready for that truth yet.

The space between them grew silent, and with it the air felt stagnant and stale. Jove had finished his first glass of whiskey, and yet he felt as if his throat had gone dry. He brought the second glass to his lips, wetting his tongue, and as he placed the glass back down the the bartender commented on her kind. Jove saw out of the corner of his eye that her face snapped towards him, and the bartender casually shrugged it off. The knight didn't react though, instead dropping his hand which held his drink down to the table. Slowly swirling the amber liquid and watching it go, he didn't respond to the comment.

Was this how the knights were? He figured them protectors of the country, of the citizenry. Weren't non-human entities part of that protection, until proven otherwise? Yet every time he met a race that wasn't human it had been the same thing. The moment they found out he was a knight, they raised their guard. Some had bounties, sure, but he had talked with them. He'd gotten to know them. He knew that the reaction stemmed not from their crimes, but from who they were. He wondered for a moment if the knights were more corrupt than he thought.

Then, unable to come to a conclusion, he was brought back to the bar. The purple haired woman spoke in the vaguest sense possible. He wondered if she was doing this on purpose, or if she was actually trying to convince herself to open up to him. His cold eyes fell on her face, his expressionless gaze coming off as piercing. Yet he did not speak nor interrupt. He let her talk through the process, and soon enough the bartender spoke up as well.

He glanced between the two, and found himself thinking about two distinct things while doing his best to follow the conversation.

First, he found himself thinking how tedious this had become. Maybe I should have just bought a bottle to take back to the room. It wasn't as if either of them had become annoying, or were doing anything unsavory to make him feel uncomfortable. It was just who Jove was. Despite his kind heart and soft interior, he was still a lazy and practical man at heart. It was part of his identity, and something his inner monologue protected at all times.

Beyond that though, he found himself immediately beginning the process of mulling through what they were saying. He knew nothing about why she was looking for these things, or these people. Only that she seemed to want answers, and the bartender seemed to be willing to take her side for it. They perhaps had a history together; Or perhaps the patron of this bar simply enjoyed involving himself with outside affairs.

"The partial jawbone mask sounds familiar. I've read files about someone who once fit that description. The other two, well, that's quite vague?" He sipped at his drink again, placing the glass down with authority. Crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair, his intense features focused fully on the woman at the bar with him. "I've had two personal run-ins with two separate female vampire lords in just the past few weeks. As for the swordsman, legendary golden blades are a wet dream for adventurers in this country. You're not narrowing things down here."

His voice had a distinct tone due to its lack of emotional emphasis or energy. He perpetually sounded bored, almost tired. The fact that his voice had a rich, deep sound to it didn't help how he came across either. It was easy for strangers to interpret it as him being annoyed, and so before she would come to that conclusion and end the conversation, he pushed on.

"If you can provide me names it would help. I still can't promise anything, but it's worth a try." With that, he leaned forward and rested his elbow on the counter. "And we can start with our own introduction. I am Jove, a member of the Rune Knights. You are?"

A shudder went down Nuala’s spine. Her cheeks had reddened under the influence of alcohol and even though her voice had taken on a lighter tone, the thief was quickly reminded of her place – perhaps speaking so openly about a bunch of people who hadn’t always been law-abiding citizen wasn’t the smartest choice. The woman turned back towards the counter, rested her forearms on the dark wood and stifled a sigh. She sent the bartender off to return to whatever he had been fiddling with earlier and glared into her almost empty glass. The knight responded politely, but the tone of his voice revealed a sense of disinterest that disturbed her. Of course he didn’t care for her stupid problems – but being made aware of how alone she was with her thoughts made Nuala’s stomach turn a little.

“You’re right,” she agreed reluctantly and lowered her head. “Besides, maybe it’s time that I stop chasing after people from the past.” It was all gone anyways. Finn, Kaiser and their respective guilds had vanished into thin air. New ones had sprouted all across the country within just a year and it was almost as if Advent World and Daeva Eye had never existed. It pained her to accept that, but Nuala knew that she had to move on eventually.

Nuala’s mind drifted off a little when Jove pulled her back by commenting on what she had said earlier, and offering his help on top of that. “Ah,” she shook her head and forced a smile. A few loose strands of purple hair fell into her face and contrary to her personality, the former Voidling started twirling her thumbs. “That’s nice of you but,” she paused for a moment and shot him a look of concern, “I think they are the type of people that, if they don’t want to be found, they won’t be.” She knew that to be the case with all three of them.

They can take care of themselves, she reminded herself silently. Stop worrying so much about other people. It was ironic, really. Nuala thought having been made human is what had made her soft, but even before the exorcism she had worried a lot about those close to her heart. Never admitting it, of course, but that’s just how she was. Then he introduced himself and she decided to give him a closer look.

He was large, but not imposing. A rune knight lacking a sense of authority, unlike others she had met. It wasn’t because of his timid nature, but rather because he chose to be like that – to appear a certain way. Nuala could be way off with her assumptions, all based on instinct and a first impression, but everything from the way he carried himself to the tone of his voice made her wary of him. Not the kind of person she wanted to piss off, even though he seemed so well composed that she was wondering if that was even possible.

A more primal, mischievous part of her felt tempted to poke him with a stick until he burst into emotion, but she quickly pushed that desire back down. Now was not the time for games. “My name is Nuala,” the woman responded. A hint of hesitation lingered in her gaze. “And I don’t really belong anywhere,” she added after a pause. It had been that way for a while, but saying those words out loud still felt odd to her. The dark haired simply couldn’t fathom how she’d lost her family, her partner and her immortality in just a little over a year. The Voidling was only a shadow of her former self.

The girl was rather quick to give up on the topic she had brought up with so much hesitation. It was a striking decision, one that made him a bit bewildered by her character. Had the reason she was so quick to back off been related to her previous reluctance to even bring up the topic? If so, then it was obvious that these people meant a lot to her. So much so, in fact, that the mere possibility of disappointment made the truth too unbearable to consider. The alternative, however, was a bit more malignant. To act as if one cared deeply for others, only to immediately be able to brush their existence aside and continue forward. It was the sign of a narcissist, and they were a dangerous breed.

It was too soon to go either way, though there was a gut feeling that made him consider the former as the more likely scenario.

Jove had already finished the amber liquid in his glass, and had decided that was more than enough. His head felt as though it were filled with static, the alcohol taking a larger hit to his constitution than anticipated. The warmth that coursed through his body, paired with the pleasant company, gave him the feeling of contentedness.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nuala." Her name rang a bell, but nothing that struck a nerve. It was a vague familiarity, as if he heard once long ago, but there was no way to properly associate it with a specific memory. Deciding that it wasn't worth contemplating, she followed with the fact that she was essentially without home.

[color#0066ff]"I'm sorry to hear that."[/color] The liquor in him urged that he continue, but the lingering sense of sobriety new better. He wasn't the type of person to lecture or moralize others. A comfortable silence settled back between them. He wondered if it would be rude, or give off the wrong impression, if he chose this time to leave.

Under the risk of being rude, he decided it better to take the chance than to stay and let the peace sour. "I'm sorry, but I think this is where I call it a night." Standing and pushing his chair in, Jove paused and glanced back to her. "Thank you for sharing this time with me. It was nice."

He didn't change his tone. His inflection was still the same baritone monotony that it had been when they first met. There was a chance that it made him seem disingenuous, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Have a good night."

Making his way from the bar, he'd walk back to his hotel and kick off his shoes. Staying fully dressed, the exhaustion enough to drag him to sleep despite the mild discomfort, he'd fall backwards onto his bed and let his eyes drift close.

Nuala, huh? She was a strange individual, but he was glad to have met her. She seemed kind. She was certainly unique. He wondered, perhaps, if their paths would cross again as he drifted off to sleep.

The woman felt a sense of relief when the knight excused himself for the night. Nuala had always been bad at small talk, but today’s been the worst. A sigh escaped her mouth and she mindlessly looked into her now empty glass, wondering what had prompted her to overshare with a complete stranger. “Ah well, not that it really matters.” The thief said and raised her gaze. The bartender had stopped paying her any attention, which was probably for the better. The wooden floors creaked when she got up, prompting her to pause for a moment. Her lips pursed, face creating a picture of disapproval. The human no longer had any of the traits that used to make her special and strong – fit for the profession she had chosen. Once perfectly soundless, the former Voidling still hadn’t gotten used to making so much noise everywhere she went.

It was disturbing, really. No one was watching her, no one paid her any heed and yet she could feel a thousand invisible eyes on her. Constantly stalking her and judging her for every move she made. As Nuala headed out of the bar, she walked past one of the many dirty windows and caught a glimpse of her own appearance. Rugged, with torn clothes and weary eyes. Dark circles tarnished her otherwise decent face and her hair had lost its purple shimmer. Long, black strands fell far beyond her shoulders and for the first time in a long time she noticed how frail she looked. And how much she hated that. There was a little voice inside her head, telling her that things didn’t have to be this way – that she didn’t have to be human, but Nuala didn’t believe that. The thief was living on borrowed time, she was certain of it.

Turning away from her own reflection, the woman dragged herself out of the establishment and into the night. On her way out, she heard something like a whisper. Quiet and eerie, coming from behind her – from the place she was leaving. A chill ran down her spine and Nuala turned around, but of course there was no one there. No one other than the bartender and a few remaining guests and neither was whispering strange things at her. Maybe I am slowly losing my mind, she thought and smiled bitterly.

Nuala had no plans on returning to that place that night, but the odds were against her. The whispers continued to haunt her and in spite of knowing so much better than that, Nuala felt both taunted and curious. There had been a few rumours regarding the local pub, but the woman had never paid them much heed. Oak Town wasn’t a place she frequented often and being non-human for most of her life, ghost stories didn’t really have an effect on her – until now. The thief found herself back inside the pub long after it had closed. It was probably around 3am in the morning and breaking into the building had been easy.

Nuala may have been a shitty thief now, but where there are no people, there are no witnesses. Once inside, the woman headed straight for the basement. The whispers continued, eagerly calling for her to approach and come closer. A little uncertain, but not afraid, Nuala reached for the basement door. There weren’t many things Nuala feared, human or not, and basements certainly weren’t one of them. The voices in her head were a nice touch of course, but considering that she’d spent 40 something years in actual hell, it was really hard to impress her.

That is, until she lockpicked the door.

The stench was the first thing she noticed. The smell of rotten flesh and foul blood. It was completely dark inside and she could only see a hint of a shimmer at the very end of the room. Unable to make out anything in the dark – another ability she had lost in exchange for her humanity – the woman screamed as something dragged her inside. It was only then that a sense of fear finally crept up on her and she started clawing at the wooden panels, desperately trying to get back to the door. But whoever was pulling her in was stronger. The whispers had vanished entirely by the time she was inside the room, but Nuala knew she wasn’t alone. And when she heard the guttural laugh coming from her own mouth, she knew she wouldn’t be for a long time.

The woman’s body was flung out of the room and hurled up the stairs. Doors flew shut behind her and she was dragged all the way outside the pub, where she was left panting and sweating on ground just before the pub. A constant ringing in her ears numbed all of her senses, but after a while her blurry vision cleared up and she could taste something bitter on her tongue. Her limbs were still limp and she couldn’t move and even though Nuala didn’t have the slightest clue what had happened, something had happened – and she could feel it in her bones. After a while strength returned to her body and just as she was about to sit back up, an invisible force pushed her back down into the dirt.

And then, a voice more horrible and terrifying than anything she’d ever heard before, spoke to her.

You’re welcome.

Sleep had enwrapped him like a cocoon, dissolving away his conscious awareness and leaving him in a metaphorical soup of his own thoughts. Some nights, after a restful sleep, people claimed they were born anew. This was usually after someone had an extremely good night of rest, sometimes accompanied by vivid dreams that led to some sort of conscious realization upon waking. Jove, however, had no such dreams that night.

And he certainly was not well rested.

He had made it home and fallen asleep pretty immediately, drifting into a dreamless slumber. This rest lasted only a couple hours at most before he was jarred awake. It wasn't the normal awakening one would expect. He jolted awake to the sound of a voice that birthed itself from his very core, audible only to himself.

"Awaken."

The voice was not loud in a sense of volume, but it carried with it the power and resonance of one booming at the top of their lungs. The feeling one had when witnessing the voice was completely contradictory to the actual sound. Jove's eyes had shot open, and his body righted itself immediately. Sitting up in bed and swinging his legs from over the side, he stood and felt his body beginning to experience a cold sweat. Tonight just isn't my night. His voice was clear in his head, unaffected by the sleepiness or the other entity whom he could have sworn he'd just detected.

The night had started with a dream ripping him from slumber, and now he couldn't tell what was going on. Yet the longer he surveyed his room in confusion, the more unease he felt in the pit of his stomach. Jove was by no means a coward, and yet he felt a sense of unease by not knowing where the voice had come from. "Hello?"

He had no sooner spoken before earning a response. "You're finally awake, I see. Good. You must go back to the pub."

Jove stood for a few moments in a shocked stupor, unable to question what had just happened or consider its consequences, before it continued. "You know who I am, boy. You're the one who made a deal with me."

Perhaps the most odd part of this encounter was the fact that those words brought a sense of relief upon the Rune Knight, who seemed like he could finally place the voice to an entity. "Yes yes, you've figured who I am. Are you going to the pub or not?" It would seem that Lucifer could identify Jove's thoughts before he could even think them, an innate understanding of the subconscious from his host. Jove assumed he'd eventually be able to do the same thing to the usually quiet Demon, but for now he'd indulge the one whom he had signed a contract with.

Why do I need to go to the pub?

Jove could immediately feel an intense distaste and annoyance from the other soul within him. It was likely that he had never once been questioned by a human, especially not one whom he occupied. Still, a dignified individual all the way through, he continued without voicing his distaste for the situation.

"That place seems to have birthed one of my Kin. It seems only right that I be there to welcome my progeny."

Truth be told, Jove wanted nothing more than to shrug off those words and drop back into bed. Yet as he was filled with conflicting emotions, the grievance of Lucifer and his own exhausted acceptance of the situation, he threw on some clothes and made his way from the hotel room once more.

The streets were silent, the eerie kind of quiet that made one think that something had gone wrong. He was likely thinking into it far too much, yet there had usually been the sound of insects if nothing else. Now, it seemed, silence prevailed over all.

He took himself to the pub in time to see Nuala on the ground, writhing for reasons far beyond him, and he looked on in confusion and shock. "How pathetic; Imagine needing to resort to such methods in order to claim a vessel." The words, pretentious though they may be, informed Jove of the situation enough to try and help. Without getting too close in order to ensure his own safety, he would call out to her.

"Nuala?" His voice was barely above normal speaking volume, but in the silence of night it carried easily enough. "You okay?"

A foreign power surged through her body and she felt light-headed. The feeling only lasted for a moment and Nuala was torn from her trance when a familiar voice called out to her. “I think so,” she said quietly in response and sat up. When Nuala’s vision began to clear she turned sideways to look at the pub she had been lured in and thrown out of. From one of the dark windows the woman’s pale reflection was staring right back at her. The colour of Nuala’s amethyst eyes and hair had intensified and lucious violet locks framed a face of porcelain skin. Purple marks on her cheeks and forehead added a touch of feral femininity to her appearance.

I’m immortal again.

Nuala’s lips parted, letting out a sigh of relief. Her human heart stopped beating and the chains binding her to a mortal body were gone – she escaped time and death once again. The voice in her head was silent now and the thief decided not to contemplate what she had stolen from the Lich’s basement. For now, it was good the way it was. Nuala’s eyes still clung to the windows of the Swineherd Pub when she caught sight of someone standing a few meters behind her. A round face with gentle features and disheveled blonde hair caught her attention and warmth passed through her gaze when she saw a pair of big blue eyes looking back at her own. At his back, a golden blade shimmered mysteriously in the moonlight.

A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth, but when Nuala whirled around she found an entirely different person standing across from her. She met his gaze and confusion crossed her features. Jove was a familiar face, unlike the person she thought she’d seen and yet she felt disappointed. Strange, the thief thought and rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, I mistook you for someone.” Nuala offered Jove a helpless smile, stood up and dusted herself off. The sense of disappointment lingered for longer than she was comfortable with and she found herself wondering why she was missing a person she had never met before.

“Sorry, I just–,” realizing how strange she must have looked, Nuala waved her hands in a dismissive manner and quickly scurried away from the pub and towards the man. “I wasn’t breaking in or anything, I promise. Actually, I know the owner – I think. I’m not sure, do you know who the owner is? Anyways, what are you even doing here in the middle of the night. If you’re trying to break into that place, I don’t recommend it. Ah, my head hurts.” Nuala rested her head in her hands and began to rub her temples in an attempt to massage away the building headache. Her skull was beginning to pound and the woman’s eyelids felt heavy. She had been fine just a moment ago, or so she thought. Somewhere in between the throbbing and her pain, Nuala felt a growing urge to get away from the pub. Looking up from where she stood, her eyes locked with Jove’s and she forced another smile.

“I’m just glad you found me.”

While Jove was not the most expressive of people it didn't mean that he was ignorant to the emotions of others. As he showed up, seeing a familiar form with unfamiliar features strewn before him, he noticed the emotion on her face very well.

When she spun to face him, her face had been light. Perhaps that was the best way to describe it? Her muscles were relaxed, with her eyes slightly widened. Her lips were parted, in part for the gasp of air that came from her surprise, but also due to the corners of her lips beginning to curve upwards in excitement. What he saw, for the briefest of moments, was a level of hope that had not existed on the woman's face in their previous encounter.

Yet as her eyes settled upon her drinking partner, he saw it all dwindle away. He saw the tension of the moment rebirth itself in her eyes, saw the harshness of reality steal away her expectations. As she apologized, he wondered for a moment who he resembled. Who was it that gave the disconnected stranger so much hope? And who was it whom he, apparently, resembled?

"Quite alright." She was a stranger, someone completely unknown to him. Her past was best kept to herself, and he would do well to not pry. As she spoke again, she quickly eked out another apology before waving her hands in front of her face as if the motion would actually brush away her concerns.

Standing and quickly making her way towards him, she quickly explained the situation to her. There was an irony in the fact that she claimed she wasn't breaking in simply due to knowing the owner, but he wouldn't interrupt to point that out.

She redirected towards him, asking why he was there and whether or not he knew the owner. Her thoughts seemed scattered to a startling degree. He wondered what had occurred in that building to make her this way? Or was it entirely the misunderstanding of who he was that made her this way? His thoughts were cut short as she spoke once more, expressing gratitude towards being found.

With that, Jove heard a voice booming in his head. The voice was similar to his own, yet completely different in tone and inflection. He recognized it immediately as Lucifer.

Oh, this is exciting! Let me out, I wish to speak to the little one.

That's not how our deal works.

A laughter boomed out within his mind. It sounded amused, but Jove's soul was entwined with Lucifer's. He could feel the indignation and disgust at someone denying his demands.

You fool. Can't you feel it? She's different now. She has become one of my kin. Are you not curios, protector of mortals? Should you not learn more?

Jove stared in silence at the woman before him. Certainly she looked different now, with her purple hair and eyes. Her face was marked now with what he had thought to be makeup at first, but at a second glance it seemed to be something else entirely.

... Fine. But only for a moment.

Without speaking to Nuala, Jove uttered a single word. "Superbia."

With that, his body was engulfed in twin flames which spiraled together like a double helix. It lasted for but a moment before the flames dissipated, and before her stood someone else entirely.

From just above his forehead sprouted two horns. His blond hair had grown in length, pushing just beyond his neck and between his shoulder blades. The back of his hands were different colored, a dark red that looked almost black at some parts. His nails had grown much longer and thicker, coming out into points like claws. Most importantly, his expression had change entirely. Gone was the emotionless Jove. The one who stood before her now looked down at her, head tilted up at a slight anger and a supremely confident grin upon his lips.

"Hello, child. How did you come to be of my kin?" The voice was the same, yet it felt entirely different. The tone and inflection were spoken with a sense of amusement, something that even a stranger to Jove would know was odd.

The knight acted the same as earlier – not showing a hint of emotion and generally appearing uninterested in her musings. A strand of purple hair fell into her face and Nuala pulled on the lock, absentmindedly playing with it while contemplating her next steps. There was a guild somewhere in Oak Town and even though the thief wasn’t familiar with their members, rumour had it their master was someone she had met before. A lich who still owed her a favour, or so she hoped. “Maybe that’s where I will go next,” she said to herself and solemnly nodded along with her decision. There was still a faint ringing in Nuala’s ears, but she suppressed it by pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head vehemently.

Go away.

The woman was entirely oblivious to the attempted demonic possession that had occurred just moments ago, and she didn’t quite realize that she’d subdued the being with almost no effort either. When Jove transformed, Nuala was taken aback by the sudden change. He spoke in an old language and much to her own surprise, the woman understood him. Two horns sprouted from his forehead and his hair now fell to his shoulders. He looked much different than he had before, and certainly not as plain anymore. Looking him up and down, the thief decided to offer a compliment. “Hauntingly beautiful,” the woman noted with a smirk and took a step backwards. Nuala had heard of these types of creatures before, but she wasn’t quite certain how a normal person would find themselves in such circumstances. But then again, mortals had always longed for power so none of this was really unexpected.

“I’m not sure, honestly.”

Nuala’s gaze locked on the man in front of her. He certainly wasn’t himself anymore, but nothing about the transformation had seemed forceful. It was more of a contract, if she had to take a guess. They agreed to switch up. That aside, the voidborn knew a hell creature when she saw one. There hadn’t been any in the void itself, at least none that resembled this particular specimen, but it was similar in a sense. Slowly, the thief was beginning to understand where that annoying buzzing sound in her head was coming from and why she felt so revitalized. Joke’s on you, she thought to herself with a grin. This ain’t my first rodeo. And just like that, the buzzing and ringing stopped. The void creature had never attempted to overthrow her and she didn’t think it could even if it wanted to. They had lived in symbiosis, much like Jove and this demon seemed to from what she could tell.

“Rumour has it the owner of this pub is a Lich, a creature much more scary, long-living and powerful than most petty demons. So much so that it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a portal to literal hell in his basement. I guess I was just lucky.”

Nuala gave a clueless shrug. Whatever kept her from being weak and mortal could only prove to be a blessing. It’s not like the thief had anything else but her skills and her strong body. There was no magic to aid her through these times and no allies either. She only had herself to rely on, but the rogue would surrive, no matter the cost.

“What’s it matter to you anyways?”

EXIT

The woman muttered under her breath at the sight of the greater demon, and a grin spread across his lips. His form looked different depending on which human was in contract with him, but this body had features that were similar to his own physical body. Still, what she saw was just a poor imitation of his true form. For that reason, her compliment fell on deaf ears. It was for this reason that the smile on his lips would likely come across as condescending to her, as that what exactly what it was. His head was tilted slightly up, his eyes looking down at her. It was an illusion to make the other one feel small, but as far as presences go, his was certainly the more domineering. No matter how impressive one thought their history, a primordial demon was not something most existences could compare to.

"Petty demons? At least you're self aware." His voice exuded confidence and a sense of boisterous energy that did not at all fit the body he had taken temporary possession of. As he broke into a low cackle, he tilted his head down to look at her more directly. It was yet another power move, though these movements were not calculate. Rather, for Lucifer this sort of body language came naturally. He did not attempt to make people feel inferior to him, and instead truly believed they were lesser beings to his very core. It was due to that honest belief that he so casually carried himself as if he were the superior individual in nearly every encounter.

"For such a petty being, you carry yourself with quite a bit of confidence. I am Lucifer, the Archdemon of Pride and the first of my brethren. Do not think yourself my equal due to a melodramatic sense of importance, fleshling."

Lucifer's presence had not at all increased the amount of mana inherently in Jove's body. It did not add power or refine it any further than it had already been. Yet his appearance carried with it an entirely different weight. Through his almost theatrically cocky disposition and blatant disrespect for those around him lay a shred of meaningfulness to his words. He was not some no name individual. His very essence came across as more refined than Jove's, or likely most other people that any single person had ever met.

For despite everything that was irritating about him, he was indeed one of the original Demons named for their cardinal Sin. He had once stood against the very Gods, and was recorded in the annals of many religion and history. More than a cocky brat, his aura was truly domineering.

"Still, the fact that you were able to meld so quickly, why, it feels like you have truly become a demon. That is impressive for a mortal who is-" He stopped himself, as if coming to a realization, and then offered a knowing grin once more. "Who seems so young."

[EXIT]