The evening after their return to Hearth-Home they had made their way to the Boars Backstrap. A fire roared in the large hearth, and the ovens offered the comforting smell of baking bread and roasting spices.

Katerin sat with Arjiah, and they discussed the net of teleportation over the city. Arjiah, throughout the course of the day, had determined that for a spell to block such magic, it would need to be attached to something large, and anchored within the city itself. She had decided that the magic was based somewhere within the courtyard outside the castle where the statues of kings and allies to Luminya were placed.

Arjiah looked to Katerin over the table. "I think between you and me, we could do away with it."

Katerin's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, dear. You trained with giants. I put little beyond you at this point."

"What would we need?"

"Invisibility, for one. If we're interrupted, it won't work. And likely it would be better to try at night."

"We could do that." Katerin smiled.

"The question remains not if we can, but if we should." Arjiah grimaced, her finned ears twitching to accentuate the motion.

"Well, I doubt it's in place for the safety of the public."

"As do I, but it still limits travel. That hinders us, but it also hinders any enemy and the Resistance."

Katerin sighed. "I know the Tower doesn't appreciate it. And... the resistance will either honor their word or not." She shrugged. "Though I don't hold all that much faith in Urgist." Her tone was lowered and her gaze serious.

Arjiah let out a soft chuckle. "Neither do I, but it is still a risk to remove this without mention to them."

"I think it's more of risk to keep it in place."

"Tonight, then." Arjiah straightened her shirt and offered a pointy-toothed smile. "We'll get rid of it."

The night was chilled, and the icy air pushed the chimney smoke low upon the streets where it wavered like a heavy fog in the night's silence, adding a strange atmosphere to a once robust and vibrant city. Katerin and Arjiah left the inn via rope and a window, and ducked into the stables to avoid any notice. Curfew was more reinforced than ever, and they had no need of an innkeeper recognizing their departure.

As the spell of silence and invisibility fell over them, Katerin looked to Arjiah—who she could still see with the help of more magic. "You ready?"

"As ready as I could be, dear." Arjiah spoke in a whisper. "Are we sure it should be just us?"

"The more people, the less quiet we achieve," Katerin said, thinking of Fykes and Kindra in particular.

They had the ability to be quiet, but more often than not they chose not to exercise it at inopportune times.

Katerin and Arjiah made their way down the deserted streets, pausing several times for the unknowing guards to pass. They did not speak, but each time Katerin caught the ethereal looking glimpse of Arjiah, she felt elated.

How lucky was she to have such a friend. Arjiah was smart, careful, and wise. She was kind, too. Until Katerin had traveled to O'siaris, she wondered if she could have comprehended someone like Arjiah. She had always thought intelligent people to be too cynical, or arrogant, but Arjiah was quicker on the take than anyone she had ever met, while still keeping kindness and warmth in her heart.

Arjiah was a genius by any standard, and one without too many excitements, unless of course you counted a love of fish head soup.

When they reached the statue square, both took a moment just to admire the art held within. There were humans in regal plate-mail well armed for the battles described on the plaques at their bases, there were dwarves holding mugs in celebration of some grand victories, there was an elf praying over a candle in memorial to a time of sickness, and a dozen more. All of them tied into the history of the city, and the land in some way or another. They all towered above the cobblestones with various expressions and left Katerin with a slight sense of joy.

These were the heroes that Katerin suspected Arjiah and Fykes of being worthy to join. These statues seemed to capture the subject's most formidable or memorable trait and left it bare for every visitor to see.

Towards the center of the square, the lengthy line of Varsly kings beheld them. Every one was a handsome man carved in gorgeous marble, with a stern but kind face. The last one was the oddity, surely. The statue of Bernard did not portray him in some regal pose, only standing straight with a whisper of stubble about his chin while gazing down at his onlookers with a curious expression.

Arjiah began examining the statues at the beginning of the Varsly line, and finally she paused on Bernard. "I can sense traces of magic, over this one."

Mordai walked along the exterior of the interweaving paths of the Heroes' Square, staring up at the sky. He had a lot to consider, and a lot more to act upon. He had successfully pulled Katerin into contact with the rest of the world, and he was sure she had killed the dragon. No one could argue with Risage Envons, for long. Still, he doubted that he could find a to avoid conflict within this. Risage was reluctant to help him, as was most everyone else. The so called 'resistance' would kill him for Sylvestris' death should they apprehend him, even if the bastard had deserved it. The Tower insisted on remaining an outside force, and that left him with very few options. But he always had one escape.

It would put him far away from his original goals, but it was still an option. And his duplicate was coming along nicely. A little more time, and he would have the perfect, secret advantage. As he walked, examining past kings and thinking of their many prejudices, he heard a bubbly, quiet voice.

"I can sense traces of magic over this one," it said.

Mordai slowed his steps and brushed his fingertips across the book at his side, for reassurance. He turned and crept behind another line of statues, hoping to move parallel to this curious voice. As he found the end of the line, he saw two wispy, gray and ghost-like forms with their hands joined at the foot of Bernard's statue.

Invisibility, he thought, with a shake of his head.

Both began a quiet chant, and thanks to the book, Mordai noticed a few things. The first was that their speech rang with magic, powerful and proud. And the other was that one of them was none other than Katerin. Now he knew that Ilysa surely had fallen. And that Katerin had survived.

Godsdammit. Is it your only purpose to screw me over? He thought as he stepped forward. He gritted his teeth. She would beat him in a fight. She knew how to fight with magic and knew it well. The glow that should have been invisible on her arms was so bright to Mordai it nearly blinded him. He could call upon the soldiers as a caution, but he had no desire to hand Katerin over to Kryrial. She was too useful, for now.

He hissed in anger, but only leaned back in the shadows and watched as they worked to unravel his plans further.

Their chanting continued for many minutes, and Mordai's curiosity grew. Then, so did his worry. The more they chanted, the more magic filled the surrounding air, white and wispy. It was strange and powerful magic, but it was not intricate. The way it flowed together was almost too rigid, and it seemed like it might snap beneath them. They were dispelling his enchantment of the statue, with what seemed to be ease. But as the magic he had lain in place began to fade, another kind replaced it, and fed off of their chant like a mosquito off a mule. The magic was a pale red, and the way it moved was volatile. He blanched. The book had warned against use of this spell, of how its simplicity was an ominous thing.

The white magic of his warding fell away with an ethereal effect, and Mordai heard a huff of breath from Katerin. She pulled her hands away from the statue, just as a volatile magic surged and erupted.

Bernard's statue shattered, nearly to dust. The pattering of marble was silent, in the wake of the hum Mordai heard from whatever spell had just released. Red tendrils of energy appeared, and latched onto the stone of the square, coursing like a beating heart. Only further improving his opinion that magic and life were not that different, after all. But whatever this was, was angry. It wanted to cause pain.

Those red tendrils sank into the ground like roots, while the others lashed the air. He watched as Katerin was struck by a force she could not see, as one tendril battered her, its pulsing energy doing all it could to latch on.

Mordai's breath caught in his throat, as a portal tore itself open before Katerin and Arjiah where they stood panicked in the square. It blew them backwards, slamming into the bases of the line of statues behind them. The portal looked like a tear, with two worlds on it's either side. A sight that caused his heart to flutter, for inside the tear he could see a horde of creatures milling about, as if only waiting for their chance to find something to occupy their devilish selves. Mordai pulled the book from his side, and thrust out his hand, no longer caring if Katerin saw him. He could not let demons loose.

He did not have to speak as his intentions hardened in his mind.

He grasped the red force of magic, wrenching at those outstretching tendrils, and he gasped as he worked to wrestle it closed. Folding it upon itself with his thoughts, he clenched the book in one hand, relying on its strength. The portal closed, and the energy dispersed, but not before something grasped the edges of that intimidating tear, and pried itself through. In the center of the creature's chest the book allowed Mordai to see an amalgamation of that same red energy. An energy that fueled the demon who had stepped through.

It stood as tall as three men and was thicker than a horse was long. It had red, slick looking skin that gleamed like fresh blood. Its eyes were black yet somehow seemed to glow, and in its large grip rested a hammer that could've demolished a building in only a swing.