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Ulysses knew something was amiss when Aldous waited outside her chamber. She resisted the urge to turn back into the sanctity of her room, holding firm and straightening her back.“Good morning,” she said cautiously.
“Come with me,” was all he said, and turned brusquely. She fell into step in his shadow.
He led her to one of the smaller libraries taking up one of the higher floors of the tower. Aldous had set up a magical force cage and inside, a humanoid creature slouched against the bars, their back to Uly.Their skin was red-hued, their hair scarlet, thick but dishevelled and pulled over one shoulder. On their shoulder blades, between the opening in their clothes, were two truncated bases of what used to be wings. They weren’t clean cuts, but roughly hewn like they were meant to cause pain. Two thick runnels of a darker-than-blood substance had dried down their back. The show of violence and captivity in a place of study made Ulysses draw up short and gape, the blood draining from her face.Her small intake of air alerted their presence. The person—a woman, she thought—glanced over her shoulder. The movement was slowed, but her eyes burned bright, two suns of gold with feline pupils. Horns swept away from her head in four places, longer ones on her crown and shorter ones from her temple. Ulysses had thought she was sleeping, but those eyes sized her up before skewering her with a glare. She tiredly repositioned her head to its former spot without a word. Uly’s gaze travelled downwards. Her wrists were bound in her lap in shackles that occasionally pulsed with runes. The veins where the skin made contact with the metal were a bruising purple, borderline black. She couldn’t identify the creature, only that she must’ve been magical.Fingers landed on her shoulder. She stifled a flinch; Aldous’ grip made her bones creak.“She’s a succubus,” he said, answering their unspoken question. “Best not let your guard down around her.” “Who—?”“Not a who, a what. She’s a fiend—from Hell, specifically. Some of their kind hail from the Abyss, but not this one. She can’t do magic as is,” he gestured to her bindings, “but that won’t mean she won’t try to get what she wants the old fashioned way.”The succubus shot a second, fouler glare from over her shoulder that could’ve reduced the books to a crisp.“What do you mean, ‘the old fashioned way’?”“Succubi—devils in general, really—are known for being persuasive. She could try to charm you into freeing her. Entice you with a deal, maybe.”Ulysses swallowed. “What do you intend to do with her?”“Same as everything else we do for the Cerberus Assembly: learn. Master Doolan Tversky entrusted her to me for research. She’ll have insight into different magic, culture, perhaps even know locations for different artifacts related to The Lord of the Nine Hells. They caught her trying to collect sensitive information from the Soltryce Academy. Very few know she’s here.” He clicked his tongue. “Audacious creature, that’s for certain.”Uly pursed their lips and nodded. They’d have to settle without knowing how he intended to do that, but she didn’t need a creative mind to guess. His tone suggested a rare giddiness, like the succubus was a trove to be pried into and he took no greater pleasure than schooling Ulysses on things she didn’t know. She’d probably find out eventually, either by osmosis or if he chose to share in fragments over time. She didn’t want to push her luck. His grip pinched her shoulder again. “I don’t think I need to tell you to keep her existence here quiet,” he said lowly. Magic leaked from his touch, raising the hairs on her arms. “Master Doolan can cover for us if need be, but she shouldn’t have to, if we play our cards right. I intend to complete my research and if that’s interrupted, I’ll guarantee you’ll never gain magic of your own.”“My lips are sealed, sir.”He patted her arm. “Good. You’ll help me see to it that she doesn’t die—feed her, water her, tend to her wounds, you get the picture. If she dies, she regenerates on her home plane fully intact, memories and all. The last thing we need is her coming after us with a vengeance.” He walked to a table and laid a hand on a small stack of books. “Read these. But heed my warning; she’s dangerous.” He exited the library. She rubbed her shoulder.It took too long before their muscles relaxed. They deposited their spellbook on the table next to the pile. She ignored them for the moment and crept around the enclosure to the succubus’ front. Her eyes were still open but hooded with fatigue, following Ulysses without moving her head. “Before you ask, I don’t need food or water,” the succubus said in a dry, weary voice. Under normal circumstances, Ulysses could see the allure; she couldn’t imagine how pleasant she would’ve sounded without the pain and anger and restraints. Her voice was a tickle at the nape of her neck instead of a caress over her mind. “I was going to ask your name,” Uly said. “You first, wizard’s pet.”Uly cocked an eyebrow. She was used to capricious behaviour from the fey—outright malice wasn’t new to her. The succubus’ wasn’t unearned, either; she’d be pissed, too. Ulysses was pissed with Aldous, and she wasn’t caged. The only reason this creature’s enmity didn’t scare her like Aldous was because of the barrier. Her fire could burn from inside the cage, but only smoke would come out. So long as Ulysses didn’t get close enough to breathe it in, she’d live.“It’s Ulysses,” she said.“Just Ulysses?”“Just Ulysses.”The succubus backed off without a rise, removing her gaze. “I’m Dicentra.”“Pretty name. Isn’t that a flower?”“It’s rude to flirt with your captive.”“I’m not flirting, and you’re not my captive.”“Then don’t say my name is pretty.”“It was a knee-jerk compliment. It’s not a bad impulse to have.”“Don’t do it again.”Ulysses shrugged. “Fine. I’ll be over here.”“Enjoy being over there. And not in here.”“Easy enough.”She returned to the books, trying—and failing—to make Dicentra fade into the library’s background.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ulysses figured that if the succubus escaped, she’d be the second person to know—and then she wouldn’t know anything at all, because she’d be dead. Her curiosity was motivated by her will to live by appealing to Dicentra’s good side, but also existed nakedly and pure. She wanted to know more about Dicentra, plain and simple, and she was right there to ask. “You said you don’t eat food or water,” Ulysses said the following day. “What do you live on, then? If anything.”“Souls.”“Is that a joke?”“Am I laughing?”“I dunno, you could have a good poker-face.”Dicentra sighed, arcing horizontally across the cage so her other shoulder took her weight. Her legs and tail curled closer to her body. “I’m half-serious. I eat food for pleasure, but what we need to sustain ourselves is the life-force of mortals.”Ulysses shrivelled backwards. “Does that happen…passively?”“No. I need to do it.” Dicentra’s eyes fluttered shut. The shadows made the shallows under her eyes deeper. “Unless your wizard friend has a hidden stash of humans for me to drain, I’m going to wither.”“So you’re like a vampire?”Dicentra’s eyes flew open to glare at her. “No, I don’t drink blood. It’s not the same.” Her wing-stumps flexed reflexively behind her—an angry tic?—and she winced. She used her pain to infuse more heat into the glare. “Most living things break down some sort of sustenance for energy. You eating food and drinking water is a form of that; are you a vampire?”“Not that I’m aware of.”“You could pass for one, the way you dress. Or are you the victim who falls for the vampire’s seduction?”It was Uly’s turn to glower. “Does skin contact help with charming?”“It makes no difference. I’m going to dispel your preconceived notions about succubi.” Dicentra paused. “And also probably confirm some others.”“I don’t have that many,” Ulysses said, scratching their jaw. They’d been reading what they could find in Aldous’ archive. He probably had better information in his personal library. “Not because I don’t think of you in a stereotypical way, but because I don’t know much about fiends.”“Do you think about me in a stereotypical way?” Dicentra asked.“That’s for you to decide, I think.”“Do you think I’d sleep with anything with a pulse?”“Not really?”“Then you have a head start.”“Will they grow back?”"You ask a lot of questions."“You keep answering them. I’d make a shit apprentice if I didn’t ask questions. Not that he seems to think so. But if you’re telling me to fuck off, noted.”Dicentra’s expression lost some of its edge. “They would, normally, if the bastard didn’t keep cutting them off.”Ulysses pinched her lips and nodded—not just to acknowledge that they'd grow back, but that Aldous was, indeed, a bastard. She hoped that carried through. Dicentra nodded back.“So,” Ulysses said, hands thrust deep in their pockets. “Gender.”“What about it?”“Aldous said you were a shapechanger,” Ulysses explained. “It got me wondering: are we getting your gender wrong?”Dicentra shook her head. “No. Our relationship with gender is as varied and complicated as yours. Our advantage comes from being able to change our bodies to match how we want to present, whether it be static or fluid or physically fluid even if our gender is static. I’m a woman, personally, but I have a sibling who’s very different from me.” Ulysses’ brows ascended towards her hairline. “You can have siblings?”Dicentra frowned; not with fury or malice, but regret. “Forget I said anything.”“Do you miss them?”“Annoyingly, yes.”“I don’t have any siblings,” Uly said, hoping to ease the sting of the admission with information about herself. Why they wanted to do that, they didn’t know. It was both impressive and depressing that Aldous made a literal devil—a supposed creature of evil—civil and enjoyable to talk to by comparison. “That I know of. I’m adopted.”“Tragic.”“Wait until you hear why.”“Don’t tell me,” Dicentra warned. “I mean that.”Ulysses shrugged. “Alright, I won’t tell you about my moonstone dragon mother.”“Shut up. You’re kidding.”“I’m not.”“Explains you.” Dicentra twisted her restraints, remembered she couldn’t move her arms, and sagged into the bars. “Am I…mistaking your gender?”Ulysses wanted to delve deeper, ask what Dicentra meant by Uly's moonstone dragon mother "explaining" her. She could think of why, but she wanted to know what Dicentra picked up on, what her unique perspective was.At the same time, she didn’t. It was an invitation for mockery. “I’m not a woman, but no, you’re not.”“I’m adopted, too, actually,” Dicentra said unprompted while Ulysses reshelved books.Uly abandoned the books and walked around the shelf. “Are you fucking with me?”“No.”“How does that work?”“How would it work differently? You have someone who takes you in, teaches you, cares for you, loves you.”“I don’t know if that’s my experience with my adopted mother,” Ulysses scoffed. “But fair enough.”Ulysses dragged a stool outside the cage and sat down.“Why do you keep answering my questions?” she asked.Dicentra studied them, then stared straight ahead, her face too listless to hold any expression for long. She looked more etiolated by the week. Ulysses had told Aldous about the lifeforce thing; she wanted Dicentra alive to mollify Aldous’s wrath as much as she wanted their talks to continue. But even if he wanted to feed her, could Dicentra do it without the use of her innate magic? Would she even eat, or would she starve herself so she could die? Maybe he and Doolan were figuring out a system; they were powerful enough for it. Was it even talking, though, with one of them behind bars? Didn't that make it interrogation?“I like your voice,” Dicentra said. “You’re funny, sometimes. It's the only entertainment I have.” The corner of her mouth twitched with the phantom of amusement. “I get satisfaction from giving you information Aldous has to struggle for. Unless you’re telling him everything, in which case, fuck you.”“You seem smart enough to know that was always a risk in telling me anything, so I’ll take the compliment. Do you like books?”Dicentra’s gaze turned towards the shelves rising about her on all sides, her eyes brimming with longing. “Yes.”“I can’t share my research, but maybe I could read to you sometime.”“Why?”“I would rather be at the Hall of Erudition, but they saddled Aldous with me and me with him. I get bored, too.”“Is that why you’re asking so many questions?”Uly mirrored her miniature, vindicated smile. “Maybe a bit, yeah. And to spite him, too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The blade came from Aldous' collection. It was a longsword, plain but sharp, the kind that was neither cheap nor expensive, but standard price. She also belted on her single dagger from her room for good measure.

She had expected Dicentra to cut and run as soon as her shackles were off, but she stayed true to her word, staggering out of the cage and massaging her wrists. Uly had seen her standing before, but behind bars, her height had been misleading, shortened by imprisonment. Outside, she had at least six inches on her. Ulysses could only imagine how her wings would add to the magnitude of her.

She was putting the cart before the horse—she steered her focus onto her immediate surroundings. Nerves, probably nerves.

“Don’t panic, but I’m going to disappear for a moment,” Di warned. “I need to test that I can still use all my magic.” Free of constraints, her voice was every bit as buttery smooth as Uly predicted. Uly had a better grasp of how dangerous she was then; with a well-placed whisper, Dicentra could convince her to do almost anything.

Then she vanished, leaving empty air where she’d stood. Even with the warning, panic bucked in Uly's ribs. But a second later, Di emerged from behind one of the bookcases. “On the Ethereal Plane,” she explained. “It’ll help.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

Dicentra’s upper lip twitched, her expression darkening. She reared back a single arm, then swung, slashing off the back of a chair with a sprouted set of claws and raining splinters everywhere. Ulysses flinched.

“We want to make it look like there was a struggle, don’t we?” Dicentra asked, but her voice had gone from soothing to sinister. Ulysses had known her just long enough to feel safe in assuming it wasn’t aimed at her, but Dicentra was difficult to read.

“I thought that came after,” Uly said.

“You asked.”

Uly raised a hand in surrender.

They moved on. Di accompanied them up the tower, using scrolls to deactivate protections. She kept quiet, following Ulysses’ lead on silent feet, sometimes disappearing out of existence again before reappearing through the next wall.

They were an efficient duo; too soon, they were in front of Aldous’ bed chambers. Uly slipped in. Every step inside felt like ten—Ulysses made them cautiously, creeping closer. Dicentra vanished again, but her presence lingered like a shadow that clung to her back, unseen but there.

Ulysses stopped at the bedside. Aldous lay prone, facing the ceiling, undisturbed. Her grip was so sweaty and tight it made the sword stutter midair like a tuning fork; she brought a second hand over the pommel. Dicentra reappeared at her shoulder, hot breath brushing her ear.

“Think of all that he’s done,”

she heard her voice, not out loud, but in her mind.

“To you, to me, what must be countless others. What will continue to happen if he’s allowed to live. This can only end with his death.”

Ulysses raised the sword, the point aimed at Aldous’s breast rising and falling with sleep, unaware of how close it was to danger. Still, she hesitated. She couldn’t communicate back with Dicentra telepathically, but her pause exposed her thoughts.

Dicentra’s hands wrapped over hers. It was the first time she’d touched her—the cradle of her hands was warmth incarnate, full of an indescribable, otherworldly strength of will. They were surprisingly soft—Uly had expected callouses, a grittiness like cooled, dried magma.

Why had she expected anything at all?

“You can do it,”

Dicentra encouraged.

“You have to. Charming him will be much harder if I strike first.”

Hands still enmeshed, she angled the sword in a way that would punch between his ribs.

“Like this."

Ulysses breathed. Nodded. Dicentra’s hands slid away. Like magic she never had, Ulysses summoned up all that Aldous represented: he was the main reason her crossing to the material plane had soured. He had taken her potential and stunted it; she had learned, but not what she set out to. Through him, she learned fear and resentment and ugly, serrated feelings that cut her up inside. He made her reliant on him and at the same time, stymied her.

She staked the sword downwards with all the emotional and physical hatred she could muster.

It impaled him cleanly where she’d envisioned the sword sticking out of him. She met some resistance, but not enough to stop the sword’s path. The end stuck through the mattress. He burst awake, eyes flying open, blood and spittle springing from his lips.

In the next second, he had Ulysses on the end of a glare, life crackling in his eyes. Uly stepped back. She had known that wouldn’t have killed him, but she lost some of her cool; it alarmed her that he survived a blow that would’ve ended her. He raised shaking hands in the beginnings of a spell, but Dicentra side-stepped around Uly, shielding her.

“Now now,” she said, “you don’t want to hurt Ulysses. She’s been such a faithful student of yours, and she’s such a good friend of mine.”

Ulysses heard the magic in her voice like a skein of silk, saw it cast a glaze over Aldous’ eyes. She sighed in relief as the magic guttered on his fingers.

“She stabbed me,” he protested. “No faithful student stabs their teacher.” He glanced between them, glares for Ulysses, a beseeching look for Di. Dicentra slid the sword from his chest. He gasped and curled upwards to clutch at the wound. Dicentra sat on the bed, laying a hand on his shoulder to push him down as Uly reclaimed the sword. Blood spread under his back, staining the sheets.

“You shouldn’t move while you’re injured like that,” she scolded. “What you need to do now is rest.”

“But she stabbed me,” he sputtered again, even though he didn’t make another attempt to move. “I need medical attention. There are potions—”

“I can get them for you if you promise me you won’t move.”

“You will?”

Dicentra nodded in a sagely way. “Where are they?”

He raised a shaky finger to point to a nearby desk.

Dicentra pulled his head into her lap and bent over him, hands coming to rest on either side of his face. His eyes closed, his breath rattly and sticky. Uly stared—was she going to kiss him on the forehead? Bite him? Dicentra skipped his forehead, though, and laid her closed lips on his. Uly sucked in a breath.

Dicentra’s nose wrinkled. Underneath, Aldous convulsed. He went deathly sallow, his cheeks sucking inwards into gauntness. His body drained of moisture and blood, mutating into something skeletal with barely enough skin and muscle to stretch overtop.

Ulysses’ sword slipped out of her fingers with a clatter. Dicentra dropped his head, spitting off to the side. Aldous laid still and dead. It was done; no fanfare, no bugles, just done.

Dicentra hissed in infernal at the body then swept to her feet, shoving Aldous into a heap on the floor. Her skin, by contrast, looked smoother and fuller, her hair glossier, and she stood firm without a hint of weakness. Ulysses tried to focus on that instead of the corpse and what stabbing a living person had felt like, hoping to soak in some of Dicentra’s nonchalance while death swelled in the room.

“I knew you had it in you,” Di praised, relaxing with a smile. She stepped over the body, closer to Ulysses. The air seemed to quiver. “That went about as well as it could.”

Ulysses was torn between wanting to sink into the compliment and throw it off like a bug. “What did you—”

“I drain life for sustenance, remember? I can explain more in-depth later.” She threw her gaze around the room, assessing. “We should start the next phase of the plan.”

“Are you going to rest?”

Dicentra rolled her shoulders. “I feel better than I have in ages, so no.”

“So how are you going to stage this?"

Dicentra lined a finger against her lips. “I don’t want to spoil it. You'll have to come back and see for yourself."

Uly blinked, taken aback more by the teasing than the refusal. Dicentra out of the cage was turning into someone with the same wit, but less bite, more suave and in control. Or maybe now that she’d decided they weren’t enemies, she didn’t want to be prickly.

"Alright."

“Start packing,” Di said, waving a hand. “You can be thorough; we have time. Take anything of value. Make a mess. I’ll be along to help you in a bit.”

Ulysses was more than happy to exit the room, leaving the sword behind.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ulysses separated coins in her palm. They had no less than when they left Zadash, but it had been a long time since Uly had paid for lodging and food. They had plenty from Aldous’ coffers, but at some point, money ended. One of them would have to work if they had any intention of seeing their plan through to the end. They’d stripped Aldous’ tower bare, loaded up on supplies, and left by horse. The image of him dead surfaced in her mind, chased by feelings of shame and vindication violently colliding. Two and a half days was too much and too little time to cycle through a complicated squall of emotions related to his death. It was the first time she’d killed—she hadn’t technically delivered the killing blow, but she’d sure as hell started him down that path. Had teaming up with a devil been the right way to do it? Killing him didn’t cause her guilt—how she’d done it did.She couldn’t second-guess herself forever. Dicentra kept her out of her head during the day, but evening watches were long on her own. If Dicentra had been anything other than a succubus, Ulysses’s situation would have been less complicated. Even without her wings, Dicentra was leagues stronger than her—she could slash open her throat, claim the goods for herself, and be on her merry way. Uly had no doubt the thought had crossed her mind. The key thing stopping her, Uly surmised, was her word. For a devil, it was binding. Alfield churned placidly around her. Nobody paid any mind to a human standing outside an inn. Nobody knew what she had done or had any idea who she travelled with. She sighed. She couldn’t afford to act paranoid even if she felt it—but it would be easier for anyone to sneak up on them here than out on the open road. Premeditated murder caught up with people eventually, didn’t it? She had to keep strong. Not only would people pick up on her acting skittish, but plants would, too. Her surroundings gave away her state of mind more often than her body language. Flowers wilted at her feet if she felt sour enough—something that didn’t happen to other humans outside the Feywild, she’d learned.“You look pretty glum for someone who’s about to have a warm meal and sleep in a bed for the first time in days,” Dicentra chimed, approaching after leaving their horses with an ostler.  “I’ll get us rooms,” Uly said.“Rooms? Plural?”Dicentra’s brow had puckered. Uly cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”“It would save us money to get one room. And this is going to sound pathetic, but I don’t want to be left alone. Not after spending—” Dicentra shuddered. “Get us one room, with two beds if you must.”Uly rolled her eyes and pushed into the tavern’s ground floor with the coins in her fist. Dicentra tailed her, arms folded loosely under her chest. Merchants, farmers, and sundry travellers curled themselves around mugs of ale, coffee, and tea. Uly made a beeline for the counter to confer with the barkeeper. The last single room of the inn had one bed. Because of course it did. Uly sighed and paid, then made for the stairs, Dicentra faithfully on her heels. “Thank you,” Dicentra sang behind her on the way up. Uly waved a dismissive hand.Uly hadn’t been to a ton of inns. She’d settled for the first city she found on the Material Plane—Deastok—and it didn’t take long from there to end up with the Soltryce Academy branch in Zadash. Her well of reference wasn’t deep, so she couldn’t complain. It had everything a bedroom needed—a bed, a desk, a closet, somewhere to wash, and the bed was large enough for two, which beat her cot in Aldous’ tower. Uly dumped her pack by the door.“I’ll sleep on the floor,” she said, reaching to undo the straps that held her bedroll together. Dicentra caught her wrist.“You don’t need to do that,” she protested, and it sounded as though it took effort to be sincere instead of making an order. “You can be a grown-up and share, can’t you?”“I thought the more grown-up thing to do would be to give you the entire bed because you’re injured. You probably don’t want me elbowing you in the back by accident.”Dicentra swabbed a thumb over the tender flesh inside her wrist, above her veins. Uly twisted her hand free, goosebumps threatening to prick her skin. Dicentra probably hadn’t done it intentionally; she was probably just physically affectionate by nature. Dicentra pulled away sharply, too, confirming Uly’s suspicions.“I can sleep on my side or stomach,” Dicentra said. “Do you really want to sleep on the floor?”“Not really. Persistent, aren’t you?”“I might be. Are you just realizing that now?”Uly shook her head. “Why don’t you come out and say what you want instead of suggesting or demanding everything I should do?”Dicentra puffed up like an insulted bird. “Fine. I want you to share a bed with me. I want you to be comfortable. I would be more comfortable if you shared the bed.”“That’s better.” Uly couldn’t resist a wry smile. “Let’s eat and worry about arrangements later. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”“Doubtful.”Dicentra likely had a few hundred years to get to know herself, or however old she was. She didn’t change her mind later, slipping into a nightgown and shuffling to the far part of the bed, sweeping back the blanket in invitation for Ulysses. Uly sat, too tired to argue, the trip having set into her bones and making her feel full of stones.“Let’s see how your back is doing,” Uly offered. Dicentra turned and dragged her hair to one side, shrugging out of the thin straps of the nightdress to slide it beneath her shoulder blades. Part of her elven disguise sloughed away, revealing the mangled stumps of her wings. The poultice they’d bought in Zadash had sapped away the infection so they were no longer suppurating. It would heal without it, but there was no reason for them to prolong the process.It still looked nasty. The buds of new wings were pushing through a thin, slimy veil of skin. Dicentra had likened it to losing fingers, except worse; severed bones and membrane that grew back wickedly slow. She hid pain well, but she'd drank heavily over dinner.Uly retrieved the tin of medicine from her bag. “Do you want more of the poultice?”“It couldn’t hurt.”Uly smeared the paste onto her fingers and daubed it on as delicately as a surgeon, or as close as she could manage. Dicentra stiffened, hissing through her teeth, the sound approaching something non-elvish.“I lied,” Dicentra gritted out. “It can.”“We should clean these before we set off again,” Uly said. “If you can handle it.”Dicentra nodded stiffly. Her posture stayed rigid until Uly finished, screwing the lid back onto the tub and stowing it away. When Ulysses turned back, the wings had sunk into Dicentra’s illusion.She smiled her thanks, tugged up her gown, and laid on her side facing Ulysses. Uly drew the covers over them both. Even though Dicentra’s disguise was consummate in every way, she gave off more warmth than the average person, heating the bed as effectively as a warming pan full of coals, soothing her aches and making Uly drowsy and content.Dicentra held her gaze steady. Minutes passed. There was no urgency or complexity to it; she simply watched, eyes occasionally delineating her features. Uly curled her arms, pillowing one under her ear, trying to untangle her thoughts from feelings and lay them in order.“You have something you want to say,” Dicentra said, dispelling the quiet. “Am I right?”“I have a concern that you’re using me,” Uly confessed. “That on some unconscious level, you’re trying to charm me without magic into getting what you want—since being perceived as desirable is paramount to your survival.”“That could be true,” Dicentra admitted. “I’m not sure I know anything else when it comes to interacting with mortals." She blinked slowly, like a cat. “I’m not going to try and convince you otherwise, or else I’d feel like I was confirming your fear. But I can say this because it’s true: if I wanted to leave, I could. If I wanted my wings to regenerate faster, I could off myself or find someone to do it for me. I’m sure any paladins or clerics in the city will happily start throwing holy fire if I reveal myself at the nearest temple like some kind of comely villain.”Uly snorted. Dicentra smiled. “Have you?” Uly asked. “Been slain, I mean. By a cleric or paladin.”“I’d rather not repeat the experience. There are less painful ways to go.”“I’ll take your word for it.”“Any more questions?” she asked, playful.“I’ll save some for the road. But that…thing you did with Aldous. It’s been bothering me. Have you ever kissed anyone and not done that? Kissed for fun?”“That’s the part that’s bothering you?”“No, I just went with the first.”“Of course I’ve kissed for fun. That draining effect only works if someone is willing or charmed. But even willing—I’ve not done it. We choose when to do it. It’s intended for people who’re damned, whose souls are going to hell. It’s reserved for people we dislike.” She paused. “It doesn’t have to be on the lips, either. That just makes it most effective, and I didn’t want to take any chances with him.”Uly nodded. Her eyelids sagged over her vision. “Is that why you’re concerned?” Dicentra asked, almost too softly to hear. “Do you not want to be charmed by me, magically or otherwise?”“Not if it’s because you want to survive.” Uly forced her eyes to remain closed. It wasn’t hard, even if she wanted to see Dicentra’s expression. She was scared of what she’d find; sincerity, a lie, or something altogether inscrutable. Ulysses had been used enough in her life, existing as a possession passed from one person to the next. Never again. Not if she could help it. Dicentra made no further comment and drew no closer. Before long, sleep claimed them.Dicentra was awake before Ulysses, sitting on a half-made bed and brushing her hair. She smiled over her shoulder when Uly stirred. White morning light framed her side, giving her an angelic appearance as opposed to a devilish one. On blurry thoughts Uly wondered how the early light would compliment her natural appearance instead of her disguise. She flung the intrusive picture away, shoving off covers and sitting upright.“Sleep well?” Dicentra asked.“Like the dead.”“Me too.”Uly turned so they were back to back, legs draping over the edge of the bed. She rubbed a hand over her neck. “I said some dumb shit last night,” she said. “I wouldn’t take it to heart.”The mattress creaked as Dicentra shifted to face her. “I think the night brings out your most honest thoughts, but if you don’t want me to pay them any mind, I can. But Ulysses, trust goes two ways. I know you don’t fully trust me, but the feeling is mutual. You worry about me unconsciously charming you, I worry that you’re going to use the guards and turn me over to another shitty wizard.”“Ew. I wouldn’t.”“But the fear is still there. Do you see what I mean?”“Yeah, point taken.”“I think the cure for that, on both our parts, is to spend more time together. To discover and then believe in our real intentions.”“Real intentions?”Dicentra nodded. “You’re an ambitious human. Not everyone would be willing to do what you did to Aldous, so I’m curious to see what you could accomplish with the right guidance—being uplifted instead of held down.”“And yours?”She rolled her shoulders. “I like the archaic and arcane knowledge, and what I’m assigned to do on the material plane doesn’t always allow for that. I don’t think my family wants me to roam free without aiding them in some way. I’m trying to find a way to make us all happy.”Uly knew better than to ask what Dicentra’s actual assignment was. She tried to absorb it, smoothing a wrinkle in the covers. “That’s what you want? To roam free?”“You sound skeptical.”“It’s a lot to take in. I think you’re right about one thing, though: I need to spend more time with you to actually believe you. It just…will I live to see that future?”“Life can go awry at any moment.”“I think those odds go up when you involve devils and the Cerberus Assembly,” Ulysses groused.“Fair,” Dicentra laughed. “But you have my protection as long as we’re a team. I would rather have an ally than do everything myself.”“Don’t you have your family?”Dicentra waved a hand. “Let’s not get into that right now. Just consider it; I’m not ready to part ways yet. I understand your concerns—you’re smart to have them. You said you had a moonstone dragon for an adopted mother? Devils aren't so fickle as the fey. But I don’t think you’re ready to part yet, either.”“No,” Uly admitted, rising to their feet. The many hours of the journey ahead stretched out in front of her. “Nobody’s ever really been on my side before. I’ve got nothing but time to consider it.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ellendri tasked Ulysses with closing The Icy Anvil after a busy night. The vacant dining hall became ghostly, the fireplace crackling in its throes instead of roaring at its peak. She drained the dregs of barrels out back, picked up scraps left as tips on the tables, and made her way back to the bar to wipe it down and swab glasses to a shine.Drudgery somehow bested working as Aldous’ apprentice—at least here she was appreciated and thanked by her boss, and what she did didn’t require inordinate amounts of reading.  The people of Port Zoon were innovative, even if a bit shady. She felt a bit less like an outsider than at any of her previous homes.A creak of the kitchen door interrupted the stillness. Uly glanced over her shoulder, expecting Ellendri, but it was Dicentra. She wore a nightgown and a woollen, green shawl crossed overtop, one arm extended to hold the door. She smiled and entered, sidling around to the opposite side of the counter.“You’re working late,” Di observed.“I always work late.”“Later than usual,” Di corrected. She swung herself onto a stool, flipping her hair as she went.“Bar’s closed, ma’am,” Uly said with a grin.Di fake-pouted, couching her fingers under her chin and batting her eyes. “You can’t make an exception?”“What’ll it be?”“I’m really craving some Viper’s Wine, but I don’t think they serve that here.”“Never heard of it,” Uly confirmed. “And I don’t trust myself to go out and find a viper to milk, if it involves real snakes.""Asmodeus' Gold?""Definitely don't have that. I could try and make something that fits the name—or I could just give you wine.”“Wine would be lovely.”Uly procured a glass, a fresh bottle of wine, and poured. Once passed to Di, they pulled out a shot glass and poured themselves a finger of whiskey. Di lifted her drink towards. Uly answered, their glasses singing together. Dicentra sipped as Ulysses gulped the shot; it burned and settled over her in a warm haze. She set about cleaning and returning it to its shelf. “Pain bothering you?” Uly asked, folding a cloth and hanging it under the bar.Di swirled a nail around the open circle of the glass and looked away. “Can’t a girl just enjoy some wine?”“Sure. But you know there are other ways to kill pain that don’t involve booze, right?”“That had better be a rhetorical question. Those other ways are mostly no fun, that’s why.” She brought the wine to her cheek and tilted her head like they were embracing. “Wine is a most faithful lover.”Uly propped their elbows on the counter. “You’re insane.”“And you chose to live with me.”“I haven’t lived with anyone sane so far, I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”“I like it here,” Dicentra said. She slid her wine to the side, removing the smallest barrier between them, and pinched the stem between two fingers. “I mean…what we’ve made. A little domestic bliss.”“I do too. I know you want to reach Port Damali, but maybe, once you’re healed…we could stay a bit longer.”“Just because?”“To save up some funds,” Uly clarified. “But…yeah. Also just because.”Di smiled at the suggestion. Her lips—naked of their usual makeup—drew Uly’s eyes. Di’s entire being—bereft of presentation, just her core self—had a magnetism that called to Uly. She leaned into her arms, lowering herself slowly across the counter. Di’s eyes widened, then shuttered half-closed. She mirrored Uly, inching forward to the tip of her stool, chest braced against wood. Ulysses stopped when she realized what she was doing. She didn’t pull away—just stopped, hovering over the bar, their faces close, tilted, ready. Her blood made a downpour in her ears.Di also stopped. “Does it still scare you?” she whispered. Uly could count her individual lashes, could admire the intricate weave of muscle that made up her irises. “No,” Uly said, and discovered she meant it. “I remember you saying it was a choice. I hope you choose not to hurt me.”She closed the distance, covering Di’s lips with her own. Her insides aligned, like a clock tower striking noon. Her being cried yes, at last —and they blended together, kissing as soft as clement ocean waves lapping against the beach. Di’s fingers tiptoed over Uly’s hand, then locked gently around her wrist, thumb stroking the swell of bone.A kiss with Di was as glorious as expected. Di matched her stroke for stroke, never demanding more, only meeting her halfway and reciprocating what was given in perfect harmony. But there was a channel of emotion attached to it for Uly—it wasn’t just the physical. It plunged far, far deeper than anything Ulysses had ever experienced. Would it be as perfect if she didn’t feel that way? She had no way of knowing. She’d never been in love before. Ulysses broke the kiss by lowering her chin, stunned. She wasn’t surprised that she survived, but startled, for the first time in ages, how grateful she was to be living in the moment; how Di had made life a gift.Di turned Uly’s hand over, tracing the curves of her palm and its branching veins. “Ulysses.” She sighed her name. “You like me…for me, right? You’re not just attracted to what I am?”“Yeah, I do." Uly placed a finger under her chin. “Without a doubt.”Di smiled sincerely. “I might ask you what you like about me just to verify that.”“I think I can handle a little interrogation.”Di dragged Uly in for a second helping.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When Ulysses and Dicentra entered the forest, Di had been an elf. Partway in, Di took her hand and laced their fingers. When they emerged from the shadows of the treeline, Di was a succubus. Uly did a double take. It was her first time seeing her in her natural state and whole . Before, she could’ve passed for a tiefling—she still could, but the way she carried herself went beyond mortal, dripping so much confidence that it became arresting. The wind tugged at Di’s patched wings, nudging her back and forth as if begging her to fly.The cliffside dropped away not far from the treeline. They were well beyond the eyeline of Port Zoon—the area was clear of people, and the choppy, deep green sea free of boats except in the far distance. Visibility wasn’t great even if there were people there—the sky was a smoky grey, the clouds a vicious black boiling nearer with a threatening storm. Di stared down at the waves scattering against the escarpment. Uly trepidatiously followed her gaze from a few steps behind, gusts of wind teasing up her hair.“I don’t plan on jumping straight away,” Di consoled her, flashing a grin that was too much teeth. “I didn’t spend all that time healing just to throw myself against some rocks.”“Yeah, I’d rather not witness that.”“But it’s pretty windy.” “We could wait until there’s better weather,” Uly offered. “Are you sure you want to do this at the cliffs? We could go back into the forest.”Di shook her head. “If I have to wait another day, I’m going to kill somebody. Besides, we’re more likely to be spotted when it’s sunny, or above the trees. It’s better this way.”Dicentra retreated to a safer distance. Uly backed away. Wings cautiously unfolded from her back. The wind immediately scooped into them, stretching the membrane, knocking her off-balance. Di gave a hiss, then reasserted control, flexing them once, twice—too slowly to lift off, but enough to test their strength. Uly watched in awe.She flapped them harder—great big beats that plucked her weight off the ground. Uly bit into a knuckle, grinning. Di matched her expression, exultant, and pushed further, maintaining a good dozen feet in the air. It wasn’t the most elegant display, but it was a start, and Uly had bore witness to Dicentra in a far worse state.She moved left, then dipped right. She whooped, kicked into a backflip, and shot off past Uly and over the cliff’s edge with a cool burst of air. Ulysses yelped, tucking into herself to stop from toppling over, then straightened and dashed to the ledge.Di resembled a very large bat, but Uly knew better. The most prominent parts of her silhouette were wings, horns, and tail, moving too fast for Uly to catch much else in detail. Dicentra dove, wings folding around her like a shell, twirling into a corkscrew. From atop the cliff, it was hard to gauge distance, but what felt like too-close to the sea, her wings burst outwards. They caught the draft and stopped her from meeting death, propelling her upwards. She’d conquered most of her previous awkwardness. The wind still buffeted her here and there, but never caused her to spiral out of control. It was like she was more a creature of the sky than one of land—Ulysses never would’ve guessed she’d spent months without the ability to fly. Seeing it in action made her heart lurch—it was Dicentra unshackled, being seen as she was intended to be.  Di disappeared before she whipped up past the ledge inches in front of Uly. A startled laugh escaped her and she made sure to give the cliff a respectable amount of space back. Di slowed above her, proud and breathing hard. She floated down to her feet in front of her, close enough that their chests touched. Uly barely had a second to appreciate how windswept and joyful she looked when she cupped Uly’s face and hauled her up into a bone-crushing kiss.That joy and gratefulness lanced through the kiss instead, chasing away any lingering chill from the ocean. Droplets of rain began to dapple them. Di cut their kiss short and banded her arms around Uly’s waist, and with another flap of her wings had them both off the ground. Uly gasped, flinging her arms around Di’s neck. Her wings didn’t carry them far—just to the safety of the bower before the sudden sheet of rain could catch them. Di swooped up and deposited her on a tree branch. Her soles gripping into the bark, Uly stretched a hand for the trunk, shaking with laughter.Di settled beside her, still panting, her closest wing folding over Uly like an umbrella. “You have no idea how good that felt.”“No, I really don’t,” Uly said. “But it’s nice to see you this way.”“I’m happy you get to see it.”Di leaned in to kiss her again—softly this time, with a pearl of rain on her lips. She smiled dreamily as she drew away. “It was a bit ambitious of me to carry you with me, though. Now I’m extra sore.”“That’s not my fault.” She stared at the drop beneath her. “I hope you feel well enough to get us back down.”“You can’t get yourself down?” Di teased.“Not unless you want me to break my arm and a leg, and then you’ll have to carry me all the way back.”Lightning splintered the sky, breaking up the darkness with a surge of light. A rolling drum of thunder followed closely behind. “This is not a safe place to be, darling,” Uly said, with more urgency. Di laughed. “Okay, okay.” She lined up their sides, wrapping her arm again around Uly’s waist. Ulysses held tight as Di launched off the branch. It happened wobbly and the landing hurt her knees, but she managed to deliver them to the ground in one piece. Rain started to leak through the canopy in earnest. Uly pushed dampening hair from her face.“We should make camp or I’ll catch my death,” Uly said. Di beamed. Succubus reverted to elf. Dicentra nabbed her hand, and the couple made a sprint deeper into the woods.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ulysses descended the stairs two at a time, adjusting her apron. She popped into the main tavern floor and fell into an easy work routine; waking fires, setting up glasses, a quick sweep, unlatching the front doors. She served two men who drifted downstairs, each of them staring curiously at her mouth—rude, she wasn’t interested—before wandering off to separate booths to eat their breakfast. Ellendri entered shortly after. Uly flashed her a sleepy smile. Ellendri blinked and frowned, approaching with a maternal stalk that made Uly think she had made a mistake. The smile drooped.Ellendrin rounded the bar and tugged on Uly’s sleeve to forcibly turn them towards the wall. “You’ve got lipstick all over,” she whisper-hissed. Uly snorted, sucking in her lips to stop from laughing proper. “Really?”Ellendri grabbed a burnished silver cup and held it up. Dark, plum-coloured makeup smeared half her mouth and bloomed off to the side in soft smudges in a comical, distorted reflection. Uly wetted the end of a towel with booze and began dabbing.“Why didn’t they say anything?” she asked. “Isn’t it like having food stuck in my teeth and nobody pointing it out?”“Could be they thought you were showing it off. Better kiss marks than food.” Ellendri shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Listen, Ulysses; you and Dicentra can fuck like rabbits all you want so long as you show up and do the work.”“It wasn’t fucking this morning,” Uly said with a dash of a smile. “It was just kissing.”Ellendri snatched the dish towel and swatted her with it, then held her chin and attacked the remaining makeup, grousing about Uly making it worse. The touch on her jaw was gentle even if the rubbing would make her skin go raw pink. Uly felt appropriately chagrined, but also, weirdly, cared for, and still airy from being kissed at all, from having love that didn’t feel conditional.Ellendri appraised her, nodded, and hesitated, brow muscles twitching. Her fingers wrapped loosely around Uly’s wrist, like she wanted to say more—then reconsidered, releasing her. Ulysses raised a single eyebrow.Ellendri patted the wrist, clipping off her next words. She left Ulysses alone behind the bar.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Every so often, in their domestic bliss, Ulysses forgot where she and Dicentra lived and why they picked it to recoup in the first place. Port Zoon was a neighbour to Port Damali, and Port Damali was a place of criminality, where the Myriad made up its beating heart and connective tissue. Port Zoon couldn’t escape its influence.She sat slumped against a damp brick wall, her vision spotty. Two armed men and a woman loomed above her as blocks of shadow against the pale, watery light of the alley. She knuckled at a thin stream of blood escaping her nose and bumping over her lips, her other hand pressed tight against a gash in her stomach. The cut was longer than it was deep, but longer than the length of her palm and fingers; blood squeezed past, straining her shirt and the beds of her nails.They asked her something about their message being clear—or their employer’s message. She couldn’t make out their individual words over the ringing in her ears, and that was half an answer—no—but the pain painting a glaze over her was the remaining half—yes.“Loud and clear,” she said, harsh sounds punctuated with wet as she spoke over the blood in her mouth. Remarkably, she masked the fear in her voice. “But if you want me to take a message back to Ellendri, it helps if I don’t bleed out. Can I leave now?”“Can you even stand?” one of the men asked. “One way to find out,” Uly wheezed. “We could carry her back,” the woman suggested, ignoring her.“It won’t go unnoticed if I die,” Ulysses said. She talked half to distract them, half to distract herself. “You have a job, and that job has rules, right? Won’t get paid if you don’t do it right. Why are they wasting money on you guys when they could just put it towards their business?”“We don’t ask questions, we just accept the job. As far as Ellendri’s competitors are concerned, this is good for business.”“Then they clearly don’t know Ellendri.”“That’s not our problem.”The three conferred in hushed tones, then gave staggered nods. One of the men crouched and reached for her coin pouch on her belt; a little extra or guarantee, depending on what they did next.A whisper of movement came from behind the other two; someone dropped down from the rooftops.Dicentra came into focus, glaring at the woman. The silent wings that carried her down were gone; she looked like any ordinary elf with her arms crossed in front of her, but her eyes seared with enough hatred to blind.The standing two twisted to look at her. “Who the fuck are you?” They glanced around, searching for the opening she must have inserted herself through. “Where did you come from?”“Don’t worry about it.” Her voice wasn’t even contained malice; it was malice. She continued to stare interminably at the woman. With magic buoying her voice, she gestured at the man on the right with a tiny quirk of her head. “Kill him, would you?”The woman’s face went slack. She lunged for her target, drawing her sword as she thrust him into the wall beside Ulysses. Uly startled at the jolt, half-collapsing sideways attempting veer away. The third man pounced to his feet, dagger in hand, his stance bewildered but ready.He jabbed at Dicentra, but she swerved aside. In retaliation, her arm snapped out and a spray of blood flew from his neck. He gurgled and clutched his throat, sinking to his knees, weapon dropping with a sharp, tinny clatter. He rolled onto his side facing Ulysses. Three gashes opened his neck wide, and she watched death creep over him as red pooled into the creases between the cobblestone.Dicentra’s lower arm had given way to her succubus form, but her usually-elegant fingers were filed into dark, stake-like points. Some of the spray had freckled her right cheek, below her eye. She was bloody and beautiful, looking at ease in the midst of murder. Ulysses breathed hard.The woman won in the struggle against the wall, sinking her sword into the man’s gut, once, twice. He shoved her off, staggered a half-dozen steps down the alley, then collapsed with a moan.The woman turned to Dicentra, waiting longingly for her next instructions, haloed with success.Dicentra smiled tightly. “Thank you.” She leaned in, caressed hair away from the woman’s temple, and brushed the skin with her lips. A gasp erupted from the woman’s throat, life whisking out of her like it had Aldous months ago. She crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. All three, dead. Ulysses, safe.Dicentra’s arm returned to its regular shape and she fell into a crouch in front of Ulysses, concern replacing her fury. She pulled a thin corked bottle from the back of her dress, tugged the stopper out with her teeth, and tipped its contents into Uly’s mouth, holding her by the jaw. Uly drank gratefully, even at the pungent, herbal taste. Dicentra’s fingers, drenched but now rounded and soft, delicately traced her throat to follow the swallow, leaving thin, vibrant stripes. The bleeding stopped, but she was still covered in it, and ached. Her left eye throbbed in time with her heart and continued to swell, further obscuring her vision. She wanted to pass out then and there, adrenaline and shock waning in the presence of her partner. Dicentra plucked her hand off her stomach, checked the wound, then pressed Uly’s hand back into it, hands folded overtop.“You killed them,” Uly rasped.“Of course,” Dicentra said. “They hurt you. When your life is endangered, you fight for it, no matter the cost. And if you’re indisposed, I’ll fight for you.”She shuffled to their side and helped them to their feet, taking most of Uly’s weight. The scent of something spicy and sweet—brown sugar, ginger, honeysuckle—managed to bypass the coppery reek of blood.“You smell good,” Ulysses said, light-headed.“Oh, honey.” They hobbled to the exit of the alley. Uly sniffed, and the blood reasserted itself as the dominant scent as it clogged up her nose.“Should we call for guards?” they asked. Dicentra shook her head.“It doesn’t look like we defended ourselves.” She glanced back at the corpses. “It looks like a monster killed them, not an elf.”“They were monsters, too.”“No,” Dicentra said. “They weren’t.”Her wings unspooled behind her. She scooped Uly up proper—Uly didn’t resist—and ferried her to the rooftop. Di kept low, swooping over gaps when nobody was on the ground, avoiding the lanterns that dripped from the cascading chains enveloping the city. It was late, even for Port Zoon, so there weren’t many around.The breeze tousled Uly’s hair, pasting some to the blood on her face and cooling the fire in her wounds, then digging deeper and leading her to shiver with a chill. Dicentra’s hands tightened, clutching them closer to her chest. Uly blinked, and the trip was over.Di touched down in a different alleyway a block away from The Icy Anvil, and they half-walked, half-stumbled the last gap.They snuck in through the rear door and ascended to their quarters above the tavern. Dicentra laid her recumbent on her bed and zipped out and in with their small chest of medical supplies, followed by a small wash basin of clear water.“You’ve been playing doctor for me for months,” she said lightly. “I think it’s my turn.” She bent, flipped open the chest, and removed objects, laying them in a row on a bedside-table. Clean cloth. Bandages. A needle. Thread. Alcohol. Ulysses tried not to tense at what would come, but her body was all stinging bends and joints, so she was tense anyway. She had no energy to spare for getting her body to obey.“I think our time in Port Zoon is coming to a close,” Di continued, wrapping some ice—when did she get that?—into a cloth and laying it over Uly’s black eye. She placed Ulysses’ hand over to keep it in place, then rolled up the bottom hem of her shirt, careful to make sure it didn’t stick. “We’ve been here long enough to make an impact. We’re starting to make other businesses feel threatened. That’s dangerous.”“It’s not even our business. We just work here. Ellendri was the one who made the cooled drinks.”“I know. But wouldn't a charming cellist and beautiful barmaid bring in gold? People aren’t concerned about reaching the top of the ladder fairly.”Ulysses grunted. “Do you think they were paid to go after you, too?”“They could’ve tried. It would’ve ended as well as it did for the ones who went after you.”Di fell into a focused silence. That Dicentra knew how to stitch a wound as someone who healed naturally gave Ulysses pause. It didn’t surprise her that Di would know because humanoid biology fascinated her, but to care enough to put it into practise—it was the final piece she needed to be secure in the knowledge that she wasn’t another dalliance for Dicentra. She wasn’t disposable, or replaceable. Where she went, Di followed, and vice versa. “I’m ready to get out of here,” Uly agreed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The first time Ulysses saw Hellebore, it wasn’t face to face. She was a hidden bystander in a one-on-one between him and Dicentra.

Di used an enchanted mirror to contact him, the trail of which they had picked up after leaving Port Zoon and followed into Port Damali. It belonged to a criminal family—the Rosenthal’s. Their specific use for it was unknown, but they were happy to lend it to Dicentra in exchange for discussing a future working relationship. Mutually beneficial, of course.

Uly skirted the range of vision but had to resist flattening herself against the wall. It was a narrow, windowless room, with only a few candles to beat back the darkness. Dicentra’s father had only existed as a concept to her so far—she didn’t know whether to fear or admire him yet.

The mirror was part of a folding cabinet. Dicentra perched on a plain stool in front of it and flipped it open. After a moment’s focus, a picture rippled into being like a disturbed pond. A volcanic landscape whipped by in streaks like spilled blood, accompanied by the steady, powerful beat of feathered wings. It was visual only, but so intense that it felt like the heat reached beyond the barrier and entered the room.

The figure dominating the center of the mirror was bulky and partially armoured. His face was in profile—a set of horns spiralled to the side and speared forward like a bull. His red skin had a cool, plum hue to it, with veins of gold and orange splitting across any visible patches on his shoulders and chest. He was undeniably devil, and looked more like Dicentra’s kith than any tiefling—directly related instead of distantly.

An erinyes, she’d called him.

Beneath him, the Blood War raged on, demons and devils colliding in eternal battle on a craggy field. Tar-black pools of ichor spotted the landscape, looking like holes you could fall into and find yourself in deeper layers of Hell. Hellebore oversaw it like the general he was, a whip coiled in one hand and an ornate horn in the other.

“Dad?” Di probed. Uly held her breath.

Hellebore braked and whirled to face Dicentra. His eyes were pupil and iris-less, one lurid block of amber. His handsomeness was disarming, strong-jawed and with hair as glossy as Di’s, scraped back into an austere ponytail. His wings continued to strike air, holding him aloft.

“Dicentra,” he said, smiling. His voice was bassy—it rumbled, creating tremors at the base of Uly’s skull.

They shared a rapid exchange in infernal. Ulysses picked up on Dicenetra’s tone, but not Hellebore’s. Hellebore was a struggle to read through the mirror, would have been even in person. She only knew her partner. Dicentra was apprehensive but pleased, her ankles locked together tightly under her stool and her tail swishing behind her.

The mirror stilled into regular glass, reflecting the room. Ulysses released the breath they’d been holding. Their talk was over sooner than they’d expected.

Di spun about-face on her seat. “We’re going to arrange a meeting,” she explained. “I caught him at a bad time. He can’t do it from the battlefield.”

Uly felt selfish asking, but couldn’t help herself: “Did you tell him about me?”

“Not yet, but I will next time. He’ll know about you before we meet—that way we’re not springing it on him. That wouldn’t end well.”

Ulysses peeled herself off the wall to stand in front of Di. “You speak highly of your dad, but I can’t tell if you like him or not.”

Di took Uly’s hands and rose to her feet. The mirror and its cabinet vanished behind the span of her wings. “I don’t think familial devil relationships are comparable to mortal ones or can be properly understood.”

“I’d like to try, if I’m going to be in one.”

“It’s…rare, I think. All creatures of every plane have their nuances, exceptions, and aren’t bound to tradition. But, generally speaking, even the most trivial things can become a competition in Hell. A lot of devils plot ways to climb over each other on the ladder for power and favour from Asmodeus. Dad’s adoption of me and Datura is almost an extension of that. Most higher ranking devils could simply order us around because they’re stronger than us, but he thought to try another approach.

“He wants us to be more because he thinks we can achieve it and it’ll reflect well on him. I love him because I wouldn’t be where I am now without him, and he protects me. I think he does care about us.”

”Do you want to rise in rank? Be something more?”

“I enjoy power as much as anyone, but I think I want it as a means to live how I please, not crush others under my thumb. Sometimes I wonder if the power-hungry devils even know what they’re fighting for and are just following everyone else’s example.” Dicentra’s thumbs caressed her knuckles. “And you, darling?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” Di squeezed Di’s hands, stepping closer. “But I've been powerless a lot of my life and the things I want are always being dangled out of reach by someone else. I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like, having more control over that.”

“There’ll always be a bigger fish,” Di said solemnly. “I’m worried you may have traded one dictator for another.”

“At least I’ll have chosen him, then, by choosing you. I never chose Aldous.”

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Ulysses and Dicentra agreed to meet Hellebore further inland, past the hills and into the shelter of the woods hugging the western edge of the Tyodan River. Uly wasn’t naïve—there were countless crimelords meeting with devils in their taverns as they made the trip—but she and Di weren’t keen on that until they had more of a foothold with the Rosenthal’s.The location was a cheery dell on a sunny day, a playful nip in the air. It had no impact on Uly’s temperament. Her heart took up too much space in her chest and a cloud of angst followed her. It wasn’t fear, exactly—she wanted to make a decent impression on her lover’s dad. Di squeezed her hand every so often as if to say ‘I’m here.’They arrived first—or so Uly thought. From the bower of the trees, Hellebore manifested out of nothing. The shadows clung to him as he emerged, seeming to form into his wings.He wasn’t disguised, and the mirror failed to capture even a pinch of his magnitude. He was gigantic, for a start—at least two heads taller than Di, who already had a handful of inches on Ulysses. His velvety, feathered wings climbed further still, even tucked against his back. They weren’t strictly black, but the colour of nightshade berries. Uly had wondered why he wasn’t fully armoured and understood now—his skin looked tough enough to stop any average blade. She hadn’t seen his lower half, either. He had a tail like a second whip and his muscled legs ended in hooves.“Dad!” Di exclaimed with joy. Hellebore didn’t look at her, eyes fixed on Ulysses, unblinking. He stalked towards them, and despite his size, his steps were light and fast. It reminded Ulysses of a feline. A predator.Headed straight for her.Uly straightened even as instinct begged her to flee. The dell was suddenly crowded, both its sides pushing in on them, creating a narrow, pitched tunnel for him to charge at her. She took a single step back as he arrived, and it was all she could manage before he seized her by the throat and swept her off the ground.“Dad!” Di cried again, this time in shock. Uly’s legs paddled wildly in the air and they scrabbled at his hands, too-hot, too-tight. He drew her in to be eye to eye with him, assessing her. His horns could have gored them.“Ulysses, is it?” he droned. “The only magic I can smell on you is from the Feywild; it’s not even your own. You’re the sort of human making deals with us for magic because you can’t contrive it yourself.”His words were as punishing as his grip. Ulysses realized with a suffocating weight that Dicentra barely scratched the surface on Hell. Ulysses had never truly understood the danger until then.Hellebore’s crush tightened, enough that her vision spotted and consciousness began to slope away from her.Dicentra hung off him, digging her claws into his bicep. Her voice sounded like it fought its way through water: “Dad, let go—you shame me, your shame yourself—”Hellebore dropped them without moving his arm. Uly plummeted like a sack of rocks and rolled to the bottom of the dell, coughing and gasping. Stars blotted their sight, and gods, how could air taste so sweet but burn so much—Dicentra crouched beside them and wrapped an arm and wing around her, part cradling her and part shielding her from Hellebore.“I should’ve made you swear not to hurt them,” Dicentra hissed.“They’re beneath you,” Hellebore said. “You could have anyone, and this is who you choose?” His rejection might as well have been a foot on Uly’s back, digging them further into the mud.“Yes,” Dicentra snapped. “Isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t that say plenty about Ulysses? You couldn’t possibly understand them without getting to know them first.”“I don’t need to to know they’re not worth your attention.”Uly surprised herself when her head cleared—her pain hardened into resolve. She stared up. “You don’t need to like me.” Her voice came out raw; her throat would bruise later. “But you don’t have to to accept my service to you.”Hellebore tilted his head. Dicentra clutched Uly closer to her side, frowning up at him.“Not having magic doesn’t mean I’m not resourceful,” Uly pressed. “It doesn’t mean I don’t understand how it works, or don’t know how to wield a sword. You adopted Dicentra for a reason—aren’t you more interested in someone’s potential than what they’re worth now?”Hellebore shifted his weight, jaw moving as he worked his teeth. Eventually he gusted a sigh and the dell seemed to release a breath in time with him.“I don’t like that you claim to understand my reason for adopting Dicentra,” he said, “but you have a point. Perhaps I was too swift to judge. You’ll have to forgive me; I’m protective of her.”He offered a hand. Ulysses reached for it, tentatively, but Dicentra plucked her to her feet before they could connect.He shot Dicentra a minute glance, then turned on his heel and, languidly, climbed the dell back to its summit. “I do have work that needs to be done. Let’s discuss business.”

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Jhira’s basement was as good as any for a ritual: it was private, magically protected, and dimly lit. Uly wrapped the darkness around her like it could protect her even though it made it more difficult to see. Most non-humans could see in the dark, but for the moment, she allowed ignorance: her limited sight made her fall for the belief that if she couldn’t see a threat, they couldn’t see her. She would take any small comfort she could, then.Dicentra joined their hands over the pommel of their sword. The memory of the first time she did—what felt like a century ago now—welled to the surface. It was gone in the time it took Ulysses to blink.“You’ve taken the plunge before,” Di said. “This is just another. I already know you have the courage for it.”“Another plunge, different cliff,” Uly supplied. She meant to sound like she was joking but her voice came out thin. Di kissed her forehead and lowered herself to the floor, reclining flat over the arcane sigil with her wings fanning out behind to their full width. Uly adjusted her grip, wrapping the hilt in her fist. Standing over Di’s body with the intention of kind-of murder made her insides unexpectedly curdle. Living creatures, regardless of origin, wanted to avoid pain on an instinctual level.“Where?” they asked. “Through the chest,” Di said, helpfully spreading her arms so the space between her breasts was bared vulnerable. She was still clothed, but wore outfits that revealed the iridescent tattoo there. Uly nodded, more to prep herself than anything. She raised the sword, its point aimed at Di’s heart. Di tensed minutely, then breathed out her mouth, relaxing. Uly sighed in time with her, shoulders softening. “It’s alright,” Di assured again. “I’ll be okay. We should finish this.”“I love you.” “I love you, too.”Ulysses thrust down.The sword pierced her, stopping when it met the ground through her spine. Di jerked, but didn’t cry, the only sound the wet puncturing of flesh and blood spraying from her lips. The runes etched into the sword’s face began to glow in contact with her blood—but not fully.Di’s eyes remained limpid, alert, and wild with pain. “Again,” she gasped, air fighting its way up her throat. Uly yanked the sword out and plunged again, heart hammering but resolute, no way to go but forward. It felt wrong, on some level—she was destroying the body they’d mended together, one that had regenerated naturally over time. If she’d destroyed it early on so Di could remake herself in Hell, they wouldn’t have bonded the way they did. Their love wouldn’t exist, or would’ve taken longer to flower. The second wound arrived parallel to the first. Light bled from Di’s eyes, dimming from gold to corpse-grey. Her body ceased voluntary movement, head lolling to one side, slack in death. The illuminated runes grew in brightness.She started to liquefy. It was like watching candle wax melt, skin dripping and limbs puddling. Uly wanted to look away, but stood frozen, her eyes two gaping holes in her face. Knowing what would happen made it no less gruesome.Dicentra’s skin and hair lost their vibrancy, darkening into an inky black. The sword drank what Di became instead of letting her dissolve and evaporate, the midnight ichor webbing up the steel, heat lashing off of it. The approaching mass didn’t stop at the crossguard. It leapt over it, snapping around Uly’s waiting hand like a wolf’s jaw. She startled and cried out, tried to drop it out of instinct, but it welded her to the handle. It raced up her faster than it had the sword, sheathing her arm in living, writhing shadow. It burned—her skin boiled, encased in what felt like liquid glass. By the time it reached her shoulder, the pain was unbearable. The same blackness consumed her vision as she screamed herself raw.Consciousness came as a surprise, trickling in some unknown time later. Through a blurry slant of vision, she saw her outstretched arm, and just past her fingers, the finished sword. Colour had been bleached from the world—her arm looked grey, remarkably unblemished, and anything beyond she couldn’t make out clearly. Her fingers grazed the blade. Completely cool, comforting against her feverish skin. A whisper of a thought caressed her mind—more of an intention, a presence, than a voice. It reached out to her as she had to it, but they didn’t quite touch.She passed out again.Ulysses woke properly on a single bed with a blanket drawn up to their waist. On the edge of consciousness, they had been blissfully unaware of their body, too in shock to feel much of anything. Now every sensation known to man came roaring back, and they wished they were unconscious again, too overwhelmed to pick out anything specific beyond pain and discomfort. She groaned.A weight like two hawk feet settled on her sternum and two tiny nails peeled open the eyelids on her right eye. An imp perched there, staring at her with big, cat-like pupils. She growled at him, shaking her head to fend him off and open her eyes on her own. “Fucking finally,” he said, hopping back and launching into the air, then swooping out the door. It gave her space to examine her surroundings. What she remembered hadn’t been a dream—the room appeared in a spectrum of blacks, whites, and greys. A single taper was on a bedside dresser, unlit. She sat up.The imp returned a minute later with Jhira in tow, rolling up her sleeves. Duty complete, the imp vanished in a puff of smoke. Jhira crossed to the window at the foot of Uly’s bed and split the curtains. The room exploded with light and colour even though she’d only opened them a fraction. Uly winced, shielding her eyes. “Welcome back,” Jhira chirped. “You must have questions.”“Where is it?” Uly asked. Jhira pointed. Uly followed with her gaze, still squinting. Propped against a wardrobe was her sword. With the light of day, she could appreciate it in full. It had changed: where the crossguard met steel, the blade was caliginous. It transitioned into a deep red to carnation pink and ended in sun-white at a curved tip. The handle bore a pommel that vaguely resembled Dicentra’s namesake—an inverted heart, cut with facets like a jewel. “I’m more interested in your change,” Jhira said, gesturing to Ulysses. Uly glanced down in alarm; a swath of grey greeted her. She clenched her eyes, temples throbbing.“Start small,” Jhira suggested.She brought her palm in front of her face. Her skin was indeed an ashy grey, like a volcano had spit her out. True to a volcano as well, her nails were orange, tapered into claws. She followed her fingers up her arm—they were longer than she remembered.She examined the line of her arm where it blended into shoulder. Slashes of orange marked her deltoid. The scar on her belly glowed faintly against her skin, shifting between all the warm colours of an open flame. She shifted her legs—they were off.“Careful—” Jhira advised, but Uly tore off the covers. Her legs went on and on and—ended in hooves. Goat hooves, a pumpkin-orange that matched her nails. She tried to flex toes that weren’t there, ended up twitching and splaying them instead. Pain stopped her from feeling the full-blown force of panic, but it was there, nascent and ready to gnaw on her.“Hells’ bells,” she muttered. “What the fuck?”“I tried to warn you.”“What am I?”“A tiefling. I think.”“How?”Jhira shrugged. “I’m not sure. Dicentra will probably have some theories when she returns. I can’t think of what else you could be, and there are ways to test if it’s true. You’ll be more heat resistant as you are—did you see the room in black and white when you woke up?”“Yes,” Uly croaked.The newness didn’t stop there. Underneath her was a strange, elongated weight like her spine had been extended. A tail. It draped over the edge of the bed, brushing the floorboards, ending in a point instead of a flared end like Di’s, black hair climbing the outside close to its base. She willed it to move, but only the end did, slapping the bedframe with a weak clap.She reached up tentatively, finding long, velvety-pointed ears. Behind that, gently corrugated keratin emerged from her skull. She followed their trail, curving forward before tilting away and into open air. They were balanced symmetrically, but the added weight made her headache worse and forced her neck muscles to work harder.Ulysses was born anew, right down to all the awkward tenderness and fragility of an infant. The sword put her through the same stress and pain it had undergone, hammering her into a new shape and forcing a new substance between her cells.“My mouth tastes like ash,” she said.“There’s water by the bedside. How do you feel? Aside from the obvious.”Uly reached for the water and swished it around her mouth. She swallowed, then drank again, washing down the dust caking her throat. “Depends what you think is obvious. I’m in a lot of pain. I feel heavy. Hard to process this with all that going on.”“Understandable. I don’t think you should try and stand until you have more of your strength back.”“Like hell I could stand right now.” Uly replaced the glass on the dresser. She’d had her fill of consciousness, but there was one more thing. “Pass it to me?”Jhira gingerly picked up the sword by blade and handle and offered it like a royal ring on a cushion. Uly flexed her fingers before fitting the handle in her palm. It sat perfectly, was nearly weightless to her. Some of her alarm and pain cooled at its touch. Like before, a presence lingered, floating like a dandelion seed in the wind. With more awareness, she recognized it as Dicentra’s soul. Absent of physical form, but alive, breathing like she was at rest and rebuilding strength in her home plane. Her soul fragment resonated within Ulysses, their severed ends connecting like fingers seeking out their match, fortifying her heart. A slow pulse emanated from the jewelled heart in time with the breathing.She would wait. She would learn. Discomfort would wane and novelty would become familiarity. Dicentra wasn’t the only one who needed time to recover, as it turned out. “I think it worked,” Uly whispered."As if you being a tiefling wasn't evidence enough," Jhira laughed. "Do you have a name for it?”Ulysses lightly pressed the point to her chest, right where she’d stabbed Dicentra, the skin bending but not breaking. “Bleeding Heart,” she decided. “It’ll be called Bleeding Heart.”

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Ulysses spent the next two days in a state of torpor. Pain, she knew all too well, was exhausting. She woke only when her body demanded it—to eat something plain in intervals, to drink more water, to pee. She knew she couldn’t delay walking forever even with her fatigue and sores. She wanted to make an effort—the longer she put it off, the more her muscles would suffer from disuse. She swung her legs out of bed and tentatively planted her hooves on the wooden floor planks. They weren’t as sensitive as toes and pads, more robust. No more boots for her.  “Jhira?” she called. Jhira arrived at once. She had been diligent about making sure she was available for Uly’s recovery; only having to trance for four hours a night abetted that.“How are you feeling, Ulysses?”“Still shitty, but better.” She wrinkled her nose, digging her new claws into the bedframe. “I hate to ask since you’ve done so much already, but I need your help walking.”A cursory smile lifted Jhira's lips. “I expected as much, don’t worry. I said I would assist, and that meant whatever entailed.”Jhira crossed the room, crouched to shoulder-level, and pulled Uly’s right arm around her shoulders, her closest hand securing around Uly’s middle-back. It was clear she’d put some thought into it while Uly was unconscious.“The hardest part will be balance, I think,” she said. “We’ll go slow.”Uly kicked aside frustration—it wasn’t directed at Jhira. She funnelled it towards standing instead, activating tired muscles. They quaked every inch of the way up in protest. She wasn't injured, necessarily, but she still felt like she'd been run over by a horse.Jhira was right; balance was the worst. Pain she could handle, but her bones weren’t the same beyond a certain point, completely shifting her centre of gravity and how she had to stand. She also had a new tail to equate; it chopped at the air while she struggled, automatically trying to find the best position to off-set her.Finally, she stood, leaning hard into Jhira’s support. They were draped over her, and when they glanced down, they saw beads of sweat surfacing along Jhira’s temple. They used to be the same height, but now they loomed. The ceiling looked closer than ever, like they could reach up and touch it. “Fuck me,” she panted. “Am I taller?”“Yes,” Jhira wheezed. “And heavier. I had that imp help drag you up the stairs before, not that he was much help. That’s fine. But you might need to use the wall at some point.”The wall wouldn’t tremble under her weight, Uly silently agreed. Jhira moved forward, and Ulysses was forced to follow, her hoof clopping its first real step. What had once been instinctive and innate was foreign to her—her brain was lost, sending light-speed signals to parts that were no longer there. Second hoof, then again. Uly dug for a new part of her she hoped existed or would materialize that would just make it click. They made it to the door on tremulous steps before Jhira surrendered her to the wall, puffing as much as Ulysses was. “Why did it have to give me fucking hooves,” she bemoaned. Feeling along the doorframe, she hazarded a few more steps. Jhira hovered like a hummingbird. “There are tieflings with toes. I did this to be with Di and now I’m more useless than ever.”“You’ve gone through a change,” Jhira offered patiently. “You’re not failing, you’re adapting. There’s a difference. Even if you couldn't walk, you would adjust.”"I know," Uly sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm cranky."She removed one hand from the wall, then the other, standing with her arms spread-eagled. Jhira slid in front of her, volunteering her hands. Uly locked their forearms together—less stress on Jhira overall, but enough to help.“Easy does it,” Jhira encouraged. “I'll see about picking up some crutches. Dicentra will flip when she sees you.”“In the best way, I hope.”“She will.”“Take me to the washroom? I want to get in front of a mirror.”“I could’ve brought one to you,” Jhira laughed.“It’s not the same.”The trip to the washroom was multi-purpose: she felt like a beached fish rotting in the sun after lying in bed nonstop for hours on end. Water would wake her up and help her fraying state of mind.Jhira closed the door behind her. Uly wobbled her way over to the vanity, falling onto it more than stopping, her head and shoulders bowed and clutching the edges with both hands. She sucked in a shaky breath through her mouth, exhaled it out, and lifted her gaze to face the glass.The reflection Ulysses had known her entire life didn’t stare back; a stranger did. Her skin was the same ashy-grey she had become semi-familiar with, but her eyes were the burning orange of cinders, of superheated steel pulled freshly from a forge. Twin strokes of orange marked her cheekbones like two extra sets of eyes, similar to the ones on her deltoids. Her freckles were gone. She braced an elbow on the counter and touched her face—her nose and lips and jaw were the same shape, but they were set in a foundation so different she barely recognized them. They were ornaments hung from a different tree, new flesh pulled over the original bones.Her hair hung the same way, still black as well. Her horns, dark at the base, were twined with spots of yellow, orange, and red—they reminded her of a mushroom she’d seen in the feywild. Everything about her suggested she’d immolate the world by looks alone. She pulled up her top lip with a finger. Fangs where her canines were gleamed back in the light.She knelt to give her legs a break, leaning her head against a cabinet door and shoving the heels of her palms into her eyes. She took care of her appearance before, but she never admired herself longer than necessary. For once, she felt like she was extraordinary to behold, but she was alone for the first time since Aldous.A fresh wave of determination surged through her. She could do this. She had to.

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A susurration of voices roused Ulysses from sleep. They came from beyond the bedroom, not hushed in morning tones but not quite outdoor voices, either. She sat up, listening—one was Jhira, the other—She half-fell out of bed, staggered to the door, and threw it open. Dicentra was there, speaking with Jhira in her elf disguise. She looked refreshed, like she’d just bathed and done her hair, not weathered and run-down like when they first met. She was later than expected, but her voice was the most welcome, silvery music Uly had heard in over a month.Her head swivelled towards Uly’s entrance. Her expression went reserved, suspicious. “Who is this?”“I was about to—”“Dicentra,” Uly gasped.Di’s face warped into shock, then dawning recognition. She crept closer, body bent with equal parts caution and curiosity. “Ulysses?”“It’s me.”Dicentra stopped in front of her, straightening, lifting a knuckle to her lips. She raised her other hand to cup Uly’s face, thumb outlining lips, nose, and then the blade-point of Uly’s jaw. It lingered on her cheekbone, where the stripes laid, searching for—something. Uly closed her eyes and sunk into her, her worries and tension vacating under her touch.Di’s usually-warm, fiendish skin felt cooler than before, but it still managed to evoke the same relief she had desperately missed. When she re-opened her eyes, Dicentra’s face had relaxed.“It is you,” she whispered. She did a once-over of the rest of her, sorrow and appreciation taking turns in her eyes. “You’re not human anymore.”“No. Does that bother you?”“Not at all. I was always going to love whoever came out the other side, I just wonder—does it bother you? It’s unexpected, certainly.” Ulysses shook their head. Jhira aimed a smile from over Di’s shoulder, waved, and backed away. Di glanced behind her, laying a hand on Uly’s sternum. “I’ll give you two a moment alone,” Jhira said.“Thanks for being a dear and letting me in,” Di said. “Excuse us, please.”She pushed Ulysses into the bedroom and slapped the door closed. Uly had gotten the hang of walking, but being shoved was new; she stumbled before regaining her footing, rising to her full height in the centre of the room.“First of all.” Di dove in for a kiss, dissolving into devil-form halfway through her lunge. Uly met her readily. Di’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, fine and featherlike. Every inch of her was alive with new nerves that hadn’t been awake until they made contact.Di broke away, crossing her arms and bottom lip springing up in a pout. “You’re taller than me now.”“I can’t tell if you’re mad or glad about that.”“I can be both.”“Can’t you change your height?”“This is my default, so it wouldn’t count.”Di walked a slow circle around them, absorbing every new detail from every angle. Her fingers charted horns and ears, then picked up their hands and rubbed over the claws. She held up Uly’s tail, tracing over the patterns by the end and petting over the fur connected to their spine.“There’s something on your back,” she observed, fingering the back of Uly’s collar. “Take off your shirt?”Uly shrugged out of it and tossed it onto a chair. “Seriously? I thought I found everything.” Ulysses heard a sharp intake of air. Delicate fingers drew lines she couldn’t see into her shoulder blades. “It’s the sigil.”“What?”“The one we drew on the floor for the ceremony. It’s on your back. Let me—” She dashed out and re-entered a moment later hefting a medium-sized mirror. She kicked the door closed with her heel. “Stand in front of the vanity for me, sweetie.”Uly complied. Dicentra positioned behind them with the mirror, revealing their back for the first time since the change. Uly had been topless around Jhira, but if she’d noticed, she hadn’t said anything.She couldn’t imagine why Jhira wouldn’t say anything, if she had—the sigil, lucent against her grey skin, was obvious and intricate, with overlapping circles and chiselled points meeting together. She traced its shape with her eyes, mouth agape. The arrow-heads on her deltoids weren’t an exact match of the ones on her face, but an extension of the sigil. Di’s eyes peeked over the mirror, creased at the bottom in a giddy smile, her wings fluttering.“It looks incredible,” she swooned. “You look incredible. I mean, you were hot before, obviously, but just the way you stand, it’s different. I can’t help but wonder what influenced how you look now, if anything.”“I didn’t envision anything like this,” Uly said.“Hence my curiosity. But not everything has an explanation, either, tragic as that is.”Dicentra set the mirror against the vanity. Her eyes dipped, spying the sword in its new sheath in the reflection, still propped against the wardrobe. “Is that—? I felt—”Ulysses turned with a grin. “Yeah, there she is. What do you think?”Dicentra scooped it up, sliding it reverently from its case. “She’s gorgeous. She’s going to look even better covered in blood, I bet.” She returned to Uly, cradling it between them. “Look, it’s like our baby.”Ulysses laughed—properly, for the first time in weeks. “I missed you.”Di brightened with another smile. “I missed you too. As much as I can miss someone while I’m regenerating, anyway.” She passed Ulysses the sword, looking thoughtful. “I felt…like a part of me was somewhere else. The closer I got to Port Damali, the more I felt like I was closing in on whatever it was. And now that I’m here, it feels like—another limb. And I can feel you, too, now that you’re holding it. I can feel the impression of your emotions and your physical state.”“I feel a little bit of it, too.”Di closed her eyes. Bleeding Heart spit off a few sparks—Uly jumped. Her blood warmed, and identical sparks leapt from her fingers. She stared at her hand, the energy receding into her palm, but it remained active under the surface, tingling with power.“What did you—? Is that—?”“Magic,” Di confirmed, eyes opening. “Did you try casting anything before I arrived?”“No, I figured I could wait.”“Smart.” Di pecked her on the cheek. “Nothing bad would have happened, but it might not have worked properly while I was regenerating. Now that I’m whole—it shouldn’t matter where I am—you should have access to my magic. I think it’ll require some practice and fine-tuning from both of us, though.”Ulysses sheathed Bleeding Heart and laid it on the dresser. “Will I be getting magic lessons, then?”“Soon.” Dicentra crept up behind them, arms snaking around their waist and chin settling on their shoulder. A wing curled, the top joint touching under Uly’s chin to tip their face up. “But I think we deserve to take a break and celebrate our success, don’t you think?”“What did you have in mind?”Di nestled her face in Uly’s shoulder, her wing swinging back into place. “Take me on a picnic? Catch me up on what’s happened and I’ll do the same. Then we’ll see where the day takes us.”Ulysses lifted her hands to kiss them. “Happily.”

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On their picnic, post eating, Di curled her legs to one side and transferred Ulysses’ head into her lap. She was elven again, out in the sun. She guided strands of hair out of their face and, once clear, traced the spiraling staircase of red and orange in their horns. Uly closed her eyes—she felt it, but not as clearly as skin. It was like having her fingernails gently pressed on.“Is that how it feels for you?” they asked. “When I touch your horns.”Di paused. Something nudged at the periphery of Ulysses’ consciousness, probing into her senses, not unwelcome or uncomfortable. “Similar, yes.” Her voice fell. “Did it hurt?”Uly swallowed around a pebble in her throat. “Yes. But I literally stabbed you. Twice.”“That was an expected pain. Yours wasn’t.”“I was unconscious for most of it.” She described what happened—the lively black ichor that must have consumed her entire body. Di listened, slowly mapping out the strokes under her cheeks. “I passed out when it reached my shoulder. I don’t know how long it took. Jhira found me later.”“I’m sorry. Just because you ‘literally stabbed me’ doesn’t erase your pain.”“I still would have gone through with it even if I’d known what would happen.”Di kissed her upside-down with effusive softness. Uly melted into her lap. They’d kissed countless times before, Uly had lost track—but every new kiss was enriched by their connection. Di rose and resumed stroking her face, this time with her thumb along their jaw. “You said it doesn’t bother you, but Jhira was listening. Is there more to what you’re feeling?”Uly shimmied their shoulders against the blanket, chasing relief for a small ache. Residual pain from their change or from lying in one position for so long or both, she wasn’t sure. “I—yeah. I’ve been human my entire life. I don’t know if there’s anything for fiends to compare it by—you can change your form at will, and it sounds like most devils go through multiple changes throughout a lifetime.“But even as a human, I’ve always been an outsider. I was an outsider in the Feywild, and then when I came to the Material Plane, being from the Feywild made me stand out among other humans. Now I stand out, but for a choice I made, not one that was made for me. I feel noticeable in a good way. It just…it’ll take some adjusting. Even good things need adjustment.”“You always have stood out,” Di confirmed, a smile in her voice. Uly opened their eyes to see it, then reflected it. “It’s part of what I love about you.”“Besides,” Uly said, “there’s no going back. This is my new body; I don’t want to live with regret. If I start, it won't stop.”Di cupped their cheek. “You’re really alright?”Uly turned her head to kiss her palm. “I will be.”

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Ulysses returned from their bath to the sight of Dicentra positioned over the writing desk, fingers skimming one of the parchment papers strewn across. Di looked up, then lifted a single sheet for appraisal. "What is this for? It's just a bunch of random words."Uly's gaze fell to the script. She hung her towel and pulled herself into some nightclothes. "Okay. So you know how some tieflings use virtue names?"Dicentra's eyes glittered with understanding. "Are you thinking of taking one?"Uly nodded. They swung into the desk chair as Dicentra replaced the sheet in front of them on top of the pile and parked herself beside them."Ulysses is still me, but—when I start travelling and working again, I don't want people to know it? It feels too intimate, like they knew who I was before. This is a fresh start for me. I just can't decide what to pick.""There are too many good words," Dicentra agreed solemnly. "You have a strong start. My suggestion is, if you're going to be following my father's orders, try not to pick something…obvious." Her nail underlined the word scorn. "Or suggests that you hate everyone. You’re going to get people’s guards up before you’ve had a chance to dazzle them with your personality.""Makes sense." Ulysses took the quill and drew marks beneath a few. "I was leaning more towards these." Di bent forward. "I'm partial to knell and sable. You have vaunt here—why not crow?"Uly scribbled it down, then stared at it, branding the arrangement of letters into her mind. Di continued: “Crows are clever and playful birds, their feathers are a similar colour to your hair, and it means 'to loudly boast.' You’re worthy of attention. Your magic and cunning are qualities you deserve to show off. If you try to embody that, it may make you more confident.""Layers, I like that.”“Crows are also shits,” Dicentra said, gently tweaking her ear. “They love to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and mess with forces that are way bigger than them.”“I'll give it another sleep before making it final, but I think we have our winner."“Just like that, hm?” Di swooped down to peck their cheek. "I'm glad I could help. My sweet corvid—plenty of petname opportunities, too, so I won’t say I’m not biased.”"You're smart, I trust you to put the right amount of thought into this.""It's not just that," Di admitted softly. Her fingers caressed the parchment, weaving an invisible thread between words. "Devils have true names, too. Having access to your real name is a power other people can hold over you. It's dangerous. This is the smart thing to do."Uly set down the quill and folded her hands behind her head. "I guess I could always fall back on a flower name.”“I can think of a few if you decide to go that way.” Di smiled and laid her palm flat on the page. “Hold onto these. There’s no reason you can’t change your name again if you choose to.”

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Hellebore told Crow what to do, but not how to do it. Even if being Aldous’ apprentice had come at a cost, she retained the knowledge on how to do proper, thorough research. Dicentra also lent her insight and access to information that would have been difficult to find alone. She offered to tell Crow the process outright, but they refused; learning felt like part of the test, bringing them incrementally closer to the deity instead of appearing outright.She’d chosen Jhira’s basement again for a lack of options. Four tapers lit the distant corners, the rest of the room drenched in darkness.Crow drew out a sigil in chalk. She laid the outer ring with kindling and deposited an idol just outside the circle. Splitting her palm with a ceremonial dagger, she squeezed blood onto several anchors as well as the effigy’s face. Her knees knelt to cool, damp flagstone at the centre where the points converged. She pulled a long match from a box. She snapped it against the striker, sparking a single flame to life in front of her.Her intestines quivered. She stole a breath; spiced incense made for divine communion filled her nose. As flame nibbled at the wood, she began reciting in infernal. The language had come easily after her transition and filled her throat with warmth, the words snaking around the room into all its crevices. The tapers swayed in a sourceless wind and the teardrop flame flared and burned deeper, closer to a garnet-red. Crow tossed it to the kindling.Fire charged over the ring with supernatural speed. It didn’t smoulder and burn low, instead roaring into an inferno of the same bloody red. She fell on her haunches, shielding her face. Nobody had mentioned the possibility of burning down the building with her.Images flickered and formed in the wall of flames. Winged figures walked, hounds bayed, and hellfire swallowed her vision. The basement was no more, replaced with a suffocating heat and the distant rumble of active earth and lava.She blinked open her eyes to dry, scalding air. The Supreme Master of the Nine Hells wore his title magnificently; he lounged in a throne crocketed with spikes, a trail of robes leading her eyes up his body. His hands were garnished with thick rings, the gemstones either ruby or onyx and long, elegant fingers ended in polished black claws. His robes flared into a collar that framed his face. He had two pairs of horns, one protruding from his forehead, the other up around his hairline, their ends flicking away from his face like he’d been rendered in confident brush strokes. His hair was wavy, jet at the roots but streaming into a fire-blue at the tips, sitting inside his coat and fanning out across his back.Looking at him directly made her eyes water, like all the cords attaching them to her brain would fry and disintegrate. But she also couldn’t look away. The air boiled around him—he exuded an aura so regal and compelling and terrifying that she was petrified in his gaze. In it, nothing else existed.He smiled. It lifted his sideburns and goatee, which ended in tidy points. He was a well-groomed god. “I’m curious why you summoned me, child.”She swallowed, or tried; her throat had lost all moisture. Sweat trickled and evaporated on her skin. Could he sense fear? He probably had a sense, sure. She bowed her head, righting herself into a proper kneel. Would he admire her courage if she held her chin high, or smite her for impiety? “My most gracious lord,” she said finally, trying not to be too obsequious. “I wish to serve you.”“Hellebore instructed you reach out to me.”“Yes,” she admitted.“Why should I make a servant of someone who summons me in the interest of gaining someone else's approval?” “Would you have answered if you sensed my heart wasn’t willing? Does the distinction matter?”He rose from the throne. He wasn’t as tall as she expected; tall, of course, but not the size of a mountain scraping the sky and the world didn’t tremble with every step. He made it to around ten feet. He was grand, but never overkill, his stature making him feel larger than he was.From what she understood, it was likely all an illusion. Gods could be as grand or as little as they pleased in their domain. What this impression of him said about what he wanted to tell her, she wasn’t sure.He stopped in front of her. “Stand.”She obeyed, looking up. He grasped her chin and tilted her face this way and that, then fixed it straight-on, unrelenting. The heat from his touch crowded her head like smoke.“I have a certain amount of prescience, this is true,” he said, voice lower now that he was so close, more dangerous than if he’d shouted. “The point is to hear you say it. I felt your intention when you called me. I felt you come into existence. I feel all of my children, however distant. Sometimes my blood is diluted, or awakens later on in one’s family tree, but yours—” He clicked his tongue. “It came from a deal with a devil elsewhere. Your soul is already mine.”“Is that true?”That smile again, dripping with malevolence. “Oh yes. When you die, you will come here, and you’ll be remade. Your pact was forged in a sword; that is as good as writing.”“If I’m already damned, then I don’t see why I can’t be your warrior while I’m alive. I pledge myself to you.”“No hesitation?”“I’ve had enough of that.”He released her chin. With a flick of his wrist, a scroll unfurled in front of her with a small burst of flame. “These are my commandments. I could lend you my power if you find that you can meet them.”She took the scroll. The script was angular, made in an archaic infernal before it shivered into something more modern before her eyes. 
Assert dominance and power over others. Show your strength of will in the image of your Lord.

Repay cruelty done unto you with further evil. If others show you kindness, exploit it.

As you ascend to power, do not pity or show mercy to those you climb over to get there. The weak do not warrant your compassion—compassion itself is a weakness.
Her claws dug into the parchment, a righteous and ugly fury gurgling up inside her. “My lord,” she laughed. “I’ve already been serving you my whole life.”The scroll vanished in the same burst of flame between her hands. “Then continue with a new and unshaken purpose. Hellebore serves me; through him, you would still be doing my bidding. The difference between us is that devotion directly to me will make you more powerful than he ever will. It's not impossible that I can also grant you what you seek—for I can see your heart's desire better than him. I understand ambition; it's a stronger force than Hellebore's want of subservience.”Crow held their breath. Seeking Hellebore's approval wasn't just to avoid having him kill her—it was for Dicentra. She loved her father, despite his never-ending grievances with Crow."We'll speak again," he said, cupping her cheek. “Try not to disappoint me.”Crow woke with a gasp. The basement was chilly in the abrupt absence of the hellish heat and the candles were snuffed. The sweat she’d lost before clung to her here, making her shiver, and the sigil on the floor had turned to ashes, scattering and disappearing.Her blood had dried in thin rivulets over the face of the effigy. She caught the tail-end of a glow fading from the eyes, leaving her shaking in pitch blackness softened only by her darkvision.Her hand was no longer empty. She unfurled her fingers, palm up. There sat the still-warm holy symbol of Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, stained with blood.

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An overcast, leaden sky brooded over the Larboard Light harbour. The combined scent of rain, salt, and fish blew in beneath its underbelly, fanned in by the occasional skyship, taunting her by staying just out of reach. The Halcyon—a seafaring vessel rather than an airborne one—was packed with its crew and baggage, save for Crow. She delayed on the dock, Dicentra accompanying her. Rosenthal family money had cushioned her trip and helped pay passage for her horse, but for the return trip, Crow would have to take care of it.Crow reached for her, but Dicentra intervened and pressed a palm-sized, spherical bundle into their hands. It was wrapped in silk, tied off at the top with ribbon twisted into a bow. Crow unfolded the cloth, revealing a corked bottle, the liquid inside mostly translucent but tinged with the faintest blue. She tipped the contents and tines of lightning arced from one wall of the glass to the other. Her eyebrows shot up.“In case you need an extra kick at any point in one of your fights,” Di explained, wiggling her fingers. “This is…?”Dicentra mimed drinking. “You’ll breathe lightning. My only regret in giving it to you now is that I won't be there to see you use it—if you use it in Issylra.”Crow re-wrapped the gift and stowed it in her bag. “Now I’m embarrassed I don’t have anything for you.”Di slotted herself against Crow’s front, planting her hands on the slope leading to their shoulders. “You coming back with my research will be present enough. But if you see the perfect souvenir or trinket and think I have to have it, I can’t stop you. No pressure, though.” She pecked her cheek. “You know what I like.”Crow smiled, fingers interlocking at the base of Di’s spine, holding her in place. At minimum, it would be months before she got to again. There was an open secret between them about the nature of the trip—Dicentra’s connections in Port Damali could have secured Crow teleportation at least somewhere, but her father had intervened. Those resources suddenly weren’t available. Hellebore was a bigger threat than his daughter and he had wanted them separated for as long as he could manage.“Been a while since we were apart for any extended period of time,” Crow said.Di deflated against her with the force of her sigh. “I know. I’ll be checking in. You should, too.”“You know I will.”They angled together for a kiss—not chaste, but a proper kiss, witnesses be damned. For a few blessed moments, the whisper of the ocean and jostle of dock workers faded away—there was nothing but Dicentra and the weight of her in their arms, her fingers knotting into their fur mantle, a tacit concession of how badly she wished they could stay.Crow let Dicentra pull away first. Di smoothed the fur she’d ruffled, as well as Crow’s hair that had been plucked from its styling by the wind. Crow’s hands lingered on her waist before sliding away.  “Thank you for the gift, darling,” Crow said, bowing to kiss her knuckles. “Stay busy and I’ll be back before you know it.”“Same to you. If you’re bored on the boat, just think of me. Or learn to sail. That's easy, right?" Crow laughed. Their fingers separated and she reluctantly boarded.Dicentra ran to the very edge of the pier as the boat wrenched away from port, waving wildly. From the bulwark, Crow watched her transition from clean silhouette to indistinct speck. Before she could vanish from view, Crow shot off a bolt of magic into the sky, a black bolt in parody of lightning, a final farewell. Rain began to speckle the deck, merging with the mist thrown up by the Halcyon cutting through waves. It was going to be a long, long trip.

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Union’s garb was an eyesore.Crow didn’t hate white clothing on principle—it had more to do with all the heraldry that announced exactly the kind of man he was from leagues away. He had an alacrity to help that Crow was happy to take advantage of, but it almost hurt to stand in his presence. A low simmer of anger burned off her sword somewhere in her pith, belonging to an ancient feud between her deity and his. Every word had to be carefully and strategically placed, like crystal pawns on a glass chessboard.It took all her willpower to soldier through the introduction without showcasing her disgust. She had to get out of Union’s space before she choked on it. She would’ve rather stood in the actual sun than his effusive warmth—it surrounded him like boiling water.She begrudgingly realized they were sworn to parallel paths headed in opposite directions. Union and Crow were two sides of the same moon—Union would always be lit by the sun, facing the living, adored and looked up to, while Crow would remain shrouded and cold. She doubted Union would ever end up on a road like hers, but privately indulged in the fantasy of his corruption. It was worse trying to flip that coin and image herself on his, how wearing that brightness might feel. It bruised her ego to bow to the truth; to admit that it was more probable for her to be lifted from shadow than for him to fall into it. Union probably had a normal upbringing to his advantage. There were layers, likely as infinite and complicated as the Abyss, and Crow didn’t care to examine them too deeply or ask after his personal life. She wouldn’t have traded Dicentra for the world. Hellebore knew what he was doing, shipping her off to Vasselheim. She was in a den of lions, the bedrock of worship of the Prime Deities. The sooner she could escape, the better. Following that, hopefully whatever test he put her to would be a breeze. Her eyes flit once to his holy symbol—the Everlight—and then to just behind his shoulder, where white anemones shuddered and then died. Power over her expression and voice and body didn’t seem to matter when her feelings were always given away by some damn flowers. She quickly accepted his paper and peeled herself away.