Lorelei Wilde resembled a shadow of her splendor. The quiet that enveloped her acted as a veil dulling her allure into a faint sorrowful reflection. She remained in the courtyard surrounded by the fragments of stone Cassiathon had shattered ages before appearing more like a wandering traveler, than a famed seductress.
She observed him come closer her gaze— a striking rich blue—devoid of spite merely a tired thoughtful shrewdness.
"Abysswalker " she murmured, her tone the scratch of a neglected tool. "You appear to be, in shape."
"You're in no position to speak " Cassiathon responded, halting at a gap. Sierra and Morgan stood on either side, their weapons. Clearly noticeable. "What's your purpose here Lorelei?"
"To repay a debt." She crossed her arms over her chest a motion that appeared more to fend off the cold than to soothe herself. "You destroyed me. You stole my song, my mission, my position, beside the Queen. Valentina abandoned me to wither in the Rustwell after I was silenced."
"So you're going to assist me with that?"
"No." A cold caustic smile. "For that I am not indebted to you.. You… you provided me with something different. When you employed my quiet as a means. When you revealed the fold to me. You used my destruction as an instrument.. With sympathy, nor disdain. With… pragmatism." She moved nearer disregarding the unease, in his protectors. "The Queen perceives flawlessness or discard." You noticed a damaged item. Inquired about its remaining function. That was the genuine exchange I've experienced in centuries."
Cassiathon came to see that she was a being of significance. She recognized her importance within a system of influence and approval. Without meaning to he had bestowed upon her a kind of currency: her own fractured condition.
"So here is my payment " she stated, her tone lowering. "Raziel is not assembling an army. Instead he is perfecting a weapon. A 'Symmetry Engine.' He intends to harness the captured stabilized geometry from the Shatterstep ritual merged with a fragment of the Queen's own core essence. Its aim is not to seize territory but to impose a flawless state onto an idea. To target the fundamental principle of 'Chaos' or 'Conflict' or 'Choice' in a localized area and erase it."
The consequences chilled the blood running through Cassiathon's veins. It wasn't a device. It was a reality editor.
"Where exactly?" Morgan whispered.
"The Queen thinks your power lies in your link to the tumultuous resolve of the survivors " Lorelei stated, her eyes fixed on Cassiathon. "She considers you a center for that 'commotion.' Thus Raziel's aim isn't a location. It's an occurrence. The upcoming significant assembly of your Compact. Where your influence is, at its peak, where the 'narrative' is expressed clearly. They intend to employ the Engine to enforce 'Narrative Symmetry'—to mandate one serene conclusion, for every one of you. To transform your uprising into a finalized story."
She arrived bearing not intelligence but also a tool of her own: foresight. She had participated in the Queen's meetings. She understood the style of their combat.
"The Sun-Striders will hold a Convocation in ten days " Sierra said, horror spreading across her face. "Delegates from every faction, in the Compact. It's intended as a demonstration of solidarity to begin restoring the knowledge from the Transmission…"
"It's a mark " Lorelei concluded. "A united chorus, performing your anthem of rebellion. Raziel plans to employ the Engine to swap your masterpiece with one sustained tone. Eternally."
The quiet that ensued was more profound than any Lorelei could presently produce. It was the stillness of a snare they had fashioned for their downfall.
"Why inform us?" Cassiathon inquired, the essential question.
Lorelei's smile reappeared, sincere now filled with a creative bitterness. "Because I have listened to the sound you produce.. I have existed in the Queen's quiet. Her flawless conclusion is a vacant chamber. Your incomplete narrative… it's the sole captivating element remaining in this shattered world.. I am a reviewer. I favor a tragedy over a dull paradise." She tilted her head. "The debt has been settled. Use the information as you see fit."
She. Moved off retreating into the remnants of the world a ghost of a ghost.
They were given ten days.. Cassiathon still possessed one final deed.
The stage was set for the final, terrible conflict. Not for land, nor for lives, but for the right to an unfinished story.