The door opened to a long, damp staircase of stone, as he knew it would. He just hated the drips running along the ceiling, coating him with their sickening wetness.

First things first. I'm finding my bow. It had to have been stashed somewhere, right? It was incredibly well made, half-carved, half-forged with the sleek furls of metal that ran along its frame. Only an amdain would get rid of it.

"No. First we find my knives." Eldrazi's voice tickled the ends of his thoughts, his own accent drawing the words into a hiss.

My mother's knives you mean, Gavin corrected none too pleasantly as he pulled his body up another step.

As he blinked, he could see a wavering image of the Demon's face, wearing the same smile he always did before shooting off some half-witted remark. But instead, his gaze softened slightly, gold eyes flicking away. "Y-yeah. Your mother's. O' course. I'm not going to break 'em. Just think it'd be easier to fight inside with those than your bow."

Fine. The final door came into view, the real exit from the dungeon. Past this, Gavin knew there'd be guards, Cearte, possibly even criminals willing to do anything to claim the bounty on his head. It was Malin: the Lawless Island, and a single misstep would be worse than not having taken a step at all.

Closing his eyes, Gavin flicked his tongue out, tasting at the air. "They're not Human," he informed Eldrazi with a sigh. "Not that I plan to kill anyone but—"

"You're askin' if I'm all right with you possibly killing an Immortal?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

The bond grew thinner for a moment, watered down by silence. Gavin could understand why, though. Demons and Eunsi were Immortal, born with the gods at their beck and call, and untrodden by death itself. The only way they could enter the smoke-filled plains of Astren was to battle them... and that was exactly what he planned to do. Humans at least– much like the man downstairs– came back, but Immortals didn't, and Gavin could still remember the sting of regret in his chest the last time his hands had been coated in their blood. Not his own regret, but Eldrazi's.

He took a while to answer. "Look, if it gets us out of 'ere, it gets us out of 'ere. So what if they get t' live past their thirties? Life is boring once you break a 'undred. Same old thing, day in, day out. Besides..." He casually trailed off, and Gavin could easily imagine him waving a lazy hand, a nonchalant look on his face as his tone shifted. "If they don't like Astren, then they can become a Dávoln like us. Really Gav, you'd be doing them a favour."

With another deep breath, he nodded. All right then. Be ready.

"You know I am."

The door swung back much faster than he'd expected, the room upstairs far warmer than the dungeon below. He could make out their faces now, the dark, auburn hair of two Demon men, held back by long, pointed ears. The woman, however, came in a shade of crimson in both her feathery hair and wings. She stepped forward, her expression a mix of shock and fury.

"How'd you get out of there? We just sent down Kiarán to—" She cut herself off, seeming to answer her own question. Her amber eyes grew wide, hurt flickering through them. "... how?"

Gavin's gaze flitted about the room, landing on each of their faces. There was no point in acting innocent. They knew what he'd done, same as they knew it was their job to put him back in his cage. He only had seconds before they moved.

"You're going to find out if you don't tell me where you're keeping my things." He paused to think. "And the keys to the other cell."

"Ah! So you're saving her after all. What a kind'earted person you are."

It's nothing to do with that. That was always the plan. I was just done with her being snarky.

"But then why go back?" A fake gasp echoed through his mind. "Awww... Do you care about her?"

No. It is as you said. Whether you like fire or not, she's powerful. We're going to need her. He shook his head. Now shut it. He needed his thoughts clear to fight and focus on the real conversation at hand, a difficult task when Eldrazi refused to be quiet.

"You are in no position to threaten us, Dávoln," one of the Demons hissed, the dark tips of his ears pressing against his orange hair in anger. His boots stepped closer, until he was leering down at Gavin with his tall stature. "I heard you don't even have magik. Taking you out would be easy."

Gavin's tail flicked behind him in annoyance. The air around the man already tasted awful, further soured by the metallic tang from the armour around his shoulders and calves. Biting him was the last thing he wanted to do, but without his weapons, there weren't many other options.

He ground his foot down, tilting his head up as he lowered his stance. He just needed the man to lower his guard. "Do it then. Kill me."

A pointed smile pulled itself across his features, but instead of getting into a stance to attack, he closed brown eyes. Like he was praying to a god.

The air suddenly warmed around Gavin, but sickeningly so as magik leapt up around him, unable to be seen, but felt all the same.

He's going to shift inside? Is he mad? Demon's full forms were huge, larger than could fit inside most buildings, and certainly more than the room they were in. Gavin took a step backwards, watching as the man's brown skin warped and sharpened to form claws, a snout...

"'E does seem to be pretty mad, yep." A gentle nudge tugged at their bond again, making Gavin's fingertips feel numb, empty until Eldrazi pushed himself into them like a glove. Then it was a jerk to the side as Eldrazi lunged to the man's flank. For a moment, their thoughts connected, but it was more as pure instinct as Gavin craned his head forward to bite down on the man's thigh, hard.

Instantly, his fangs were met with fur, a gross, dusty flavour coating his tongue before the tang of blood, but he could feel the pressure releasing from his sinuses. There was a scream, then he drew his face back, wiping the venom off their chin. The magik died off in the air around them, the man too focused on writhing on the ground in pain to form any connection to the gods' Wills.

Gavin drew in a deep breath. His heart should've clenched at the sight of another one hurt, soon to die, but it didn't. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all— until a dagger plunged beneath his shoulder blade.

A yelp crawled out of their throat as a hot, jagged pain tore through their muscles, stretching down to the fingers of their right hand. Gavin wheeled around to find the second Demon at his side, the knife in his hand dripping red. The Eunsi woman wasn't far behind, her own morningstar raised to strike. He stepped back.

I don't think they'll let me get close enough to bite.

"Then you'd better start lookin' for our weapons."

The Eunsi's red wings reared up, and she lunged forward, letting the weight of the spiked top pull her into a smooth swing. Gavin tried to sidestep it, but one of the spikes scraped along their arm, sending another wave of pain. She was close now. He could hear her panted breaths in his ear as she went to raise the weapon again.

Flicking their eyes down to her sandals, he swiped their tail at her feet. The woman fell back with a cry, the other Demon reaching to catch her. Swiftly, he ducked back, darting to the other end of the room. The weapons. They had to be here, somewhere amongst the desk, the chairs, the door besides the one he came in with...

He flicked his tongue out. Are they being kept there?

There was no mistaking the wooden, yet metallic taste of his bow. A curved, purple shape formed on a black background in his mind as the forks of his tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth. His eyes settled on a nearby closet.

"Stop!" The woman called out, but Gavin was already wrenching open the door, gaze landing on the two knives lying besides his bow.

Their wrapped ends fit nicely into each hand, and Gavin could feel their body lowering into a stance.

"This is more like it! Now who wants to go first? Fox Demon one? Fox Demon two..." Eldrazi's casual tone leaked from their lips as they walked forward, Gavin letting the Demon guide his arm up until the dagger rested under the chin of the woman. She stood there, completely still save for her weak trembles, eyes wide in fear.

"Well, you know what they say. Ladies first!"

☽◯☾

Bars.

This definitely wasn't Aoife's favourite definition of the word. She much preferred the kind where a woman could saunter in, enjoy herself, perhaps with a certain Demon to cover the first twenty or so drinks she planned to get.

Instantly, her mind filled with his face: his strong, rigid features, warm, amber eyes that pierced through the white stripes in the redhead's bangs... A sigh drew out of her mouth before turning into a groan.

"Tha' was rather silly of you, wasn't it?"

She tossed the toe of her boot into the wall at the returning echo of his words. Of course the boy hadn't wanted to help her. He was desperate, scarred after who knew how many years of confinement, and she'd gone ahead and scared him. The cell rattled a bit at her touch, but it wasn't enough as rage built in her chest like a fire, threatening to burst out or coat her lungs in the bitterness of built up ash, enough to make her choke. It wrapped around her lungs, burning, biting, pressing, and it was a battle to keep her throat enough to scream.

"Cursed magik!" The shout echoed across the door as she kicked the cell once more. "What good do you even do me, huh?" The continued banging of metal against metal didn't fix anything though, and eventually her head was leaning on a single, cold bar.

I just thought he'd be like Selatan.

"Oi! Did those bars d' something to you while we were out?"

What?

Aoife jumped back to find the short boy standing there only a few feet away. His hair appeared to have been tied back into a short ponytail by a ribbon, but that wasn't the only thing that was different. The Dávoln's clothes were limp, damp, boots most likely coated in blood that they stamped through the dungeon floor without a care in the world. They stopped a few feet away, head tilting up to inspect her with glinting, serpentine eyes— the only feature she could clearly make out in the dark.

"Wow. Somethin' really is the matter. 'Old on, gimme one moment to..." The Demon's voice– Eldrazi– trailed off, and without much else to go by, Aoife pulled a small flame to her hand. Warmth spread through her, much more internal than external, and somewhere within her, the pain eased slightly as violet light cast onto the floor.. With it, she could see Eldrazi had used the toe of his shoe to mark out two small dots of crimson, followed by a swiped, scarlet arc...

"Eldrazi! That's disgustin'!" Gavin was instantly shouting.

"Disgusting? What's disgusting 'bout a smiling face? Man's not about to be needin' the blood 'imself anytime soon. Besides, it's respectful, making use of the whole body. You just don't like my-"

"Ugh! Shut it!"

Instantly, a blush overtook the boy's fair face, and he was hastily untying his hair, searching the satchel on his belt. Finally, he managed to pull out a small, silver key that he thrust into her lock. "Sorry about that. Eldrazi can be a..."

Gavin shook his head before finally casting her a look. "Nevermind, are you all right? He was right about one thing. You seem upset."

"I just..." The warmth of her magik dampened a bit, the flame tapering out with it. "I thought you were going to leave me behind."

"What? Of course not!" Then a small hand was grabbing at hers, tugging her forward.

Her brows drew together in confusion. "But then why did you—"

He cut her off with another shake of his head. "No one should be left in a place like this, so we're getting out of here. Together. But we have to be fast, because it won't be long before the Cearte realise the guards aren't reporting."

He really was scared then, and still chose to come back. A soft smile pulled at her face, her throat growing tight, but she couldn't cry. Not here. So instead she nodded at the Dávoln. "R-right!"

At first, she'd been eager to let him lead her up the stairs and out of the repulsive dungeon floor, but once the way out was open, her body stiffened. The room was filled with blood, feathers, bodies... One Demon lay with an arrow through his chest, while the Eunsi woman's eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging as if she'd been poisoned. It wasn't that bodies bothered her specifically. She'd seen them before, and she would see them again. No. It was the precision of each hit, the way each of them had fallen to one wound, maybe two at most.

Her eyes drifted to Gavin, standing there, eyes flicked away and embarrassed. Did he do this, or the Demon?

A wince pulled at her face as a strong metallic stench hit her.

He didn't need my help at all.

She'd known it was desperate, offering protection that she clearly didn't have access to at the moment, but at the same point, she's expected to do... Something to help. But instead all she'd done was taken out a man already on Astren's doorstep, and waited on someone who could've easily left her behind.

So why didn't he?

She stepped forward, brushing past the bodies all until she was close to the door, able to smell the Dusty, yet salty air outside. It was the scent of freedom, one that the Dávoln seemingly could've had whenever he wanted.

Until the Cearte drag him back anyway.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. But that was how it always was, wasn't it? Taken, then free. Free, then taken, as endless as the cycle of life and death. So what if the boy could've escaped alone. In the end, did it really matter if they were bound to find him again?

Then it was her turn to shake her head, trying to clear it. Of course it did. Once she brought Gavin to the Eirímach, everything would change. Róhain would have a plan, Gavin could help, and no matter what came next, Selatan would be there to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right.

They would find their free eventually, whether the Cearte wanted them to or not. She just had to show that to Gavin. That was where her help would come in.

Gavin eventually scrambled after her, his movements tight and awkward until he had finally made it to the door. In the light, she could make him out better now: shoulder-length, unkempt hair the colour of straw, green, blood-stained tunic, and most interesting to her, a scaled, prehensile tail that twined around his ankles. He shrunk even more under her gaze, fangs poking out as he bit his lip. "Is there... something you need?"

"Oh no." She waved the notion off. "I was simply thinking. You're a curious little thing, you know that?"

He frowned. "I hope not I'm not a thing. I'm quite alive, thank you."

"Pfft. I didn't mean it like that." She laughed, punching his shoulder. "Now come on. Let's find a way off this horrible island and take you to meet all those connections I was talking about."

"And how are you planning to do that?" he asked, reaching for the handle of the door outside. His form shifted as he did, ears rounding out into a more Human-shape, his tail retracting into his spine all while the black, twisted mark on his arm grew an even deeper black, but Aoife was cut off from the spectacle as he tugged his sleeve over it.

"Goodness! You really are a farm boy, aren't you? Don't you even know what a boat is?" She pouted at him fakely, laughing at the unamused look he shot back.

"Stop calling me a farm boy!" His face reddened. "And I know what a boat is!"

She really was the strongest girl in the world, managing to resist the urge to mimic 'Ah know what a boot is'. Instead, she just grinned. "How many chickens?"

"...what?"

"How many chickens did you own before you got tossed into this place?"

He mumbled something into his sleeve.

"Sorry, what was that? Couldn't hear you." She leaned even closer.

He was completely folded into himself now, the red crawling into his ears. "... four."

"And there you have it. Farm boy." She snickered as she stepped out of the prison. It looked rather small from the outside, simply a wooden structure thrown together next to all the other falling apart buildings on the street. It had been a quick place to hold prisoners before they were transported somewhere far worse, which meant it was better to leave now.

"I still know what boats are; it's how I got here!" He drew in a deep breath before shaking his head and moving to follow. "But you're a Halfbreed, right? Can't you at least ask your gods to warp us out of this place rather than go through more trouble?"

She only gave him a small hum in response, slipping into a street filled with people of all races. It was a strange sight after living for years on the mainland: Humans, Eunsi, and Demons all living so close together. Then again, on an island of exiled criminals, it made sense that they'd formed their own ways. So long as there weren't Dávolns, Shar Drak'na, or Halfbreeds, it was fine.

A frown settled on her lips. Except she was none of those, and as for asking the gods for help... None of them ever lend me their Will anyway.

But Gavin was continuing to give her an annoying, expectant stare, and so she shrugged, pushing past an Eunsi man with black wings to squeeze into another alleyway. "I thought magik hurt Humans. If I called upon Eór to warp us elsewhere, couldn't you die?"

"Yes but..." He paused as the stone walls of the alleyway became littered with paper further in. He picked one up, squinting at it as if he couldn't read, but he didn't have to in order to recognize the light sketch of a Human face with unkempt, blond hair and eyes as green as his cloak.

Aoife reached over, yoinking it out of his hands. The bottom listed out a large bounty, more buinn than she'd seen in her entire life, but she was far more interested in the name scrawled out along the top. "The Undying Serpent, hm? Is that what you are then? A snake?"

Gavin's eyes dulled, a hand roughly tugging the green hood of his cloak over his head. "That's just what they call me. Besides, couldn't you see what I was earlier?"

"Not really," she admitted. "It was rather dark down there and all."

"I thought most Halfbreeds could see in the dark?" he questioned before dropping it. "But yes. Now could you please keep your voice down? We don't know who could be listening right now."

"Oh please." A laugh bubbled up out of her as she peeked her head out of the other end of the alley. In the distance, boats lay lined up in a harbour. Large, wooden bodies bobbed on pure black waves, masts reaching upwards to a grey, Dust-filled sky. She hadn't missed the dry taste of the Dust in the outdoor air, coating her tongue and scratching her throat, but combined with the scent of the salty sea, to her it only meant one thing.

"We won't be here for much longer."