"Can we talk about this?" Bezel hissed under his breath, tone urgent even as muffled as the whisper was. He triple checked the distance between Beom Dal'ha and the rest of their travel party before he spoke since he was sure that Beom would kill Ira the moment he realized they had no real intention to challenge the Wolfking. And--if Bezel could talk him down--they didn't.

"There's nothing more to say." Ira sniffed angrily. He breezed past the Prince, shoulders locked together in stiff defiance. He seemed more committed to exiting swiftly than safely. Bezel slipped into his space, using the side of his palm to lift branches at Ira's eye level. The bishop just moved past, no thanks or acknowledgement offered. Which would have been amusing enough (if Bezel knew humor) that he wouldn't need gratitude to make up for it anyway, so he didn't press for any.

"I think it's a bad idea." Bezel attempted.

"So you've said," Ira agreed most disagreeably. "I fail to see how, Princess. You're our secret weapon. You literally can not be killed by the Wolfking. Yes or no?"

"Well, strictly speaking. . . I would agree but something else is at play here, darling." Bezel mitigated. "Someone killed King Kago-"

"You think someone killed King Kago." Ira corrected, sharp and dismissive. He twisted, casting one steel blue gaze over his shoulder. "You're getting in your own head. We're so close. If you give up now just because of some, what? Nerves? It's. . . it's not going to happen. I won't let it happen."

"Or you're so eager to see your long lost lover that you don't care to look for the tripwire." Bezel sniped.

Ira tensed. His shoulders bunched up around the base of his thin throat before they dropped sharply. The knight crossed his arms defiantly and turned away, his nose sharp in profile. His jaw stiff and set. Bezel was reminded of a soft-skinned turtle tucking back into their hardened shell and turned his attention away, aware that further prodding would have little result.

"Are you fraying, companions?" Jaeha interrupted, settling himself in the hostile space between the Prince and the Bishop.

"No,"

"Yes," Ira answered at the same time.

"We aren't." Bezel upped.

"You're right!" Ira cheered venomously. "I'm not. You are."

"Me?" Bezel coughed.

"You're changing the plan." Ira pointed.

"Bezel no longer wishes to challenge the Wolfking?" Jaeha barked, head tilting and tail slowing in suspicion. If he had eyebrows, he surely would have lifted them both in confusion. "You had seemed quite sure of it before, companions. What has changed?"

"He think-"

"Nothing." Bezel cut in forcefully. Ira's face sculpted into one of shock. Be that because Bezel was clearly keeping Jaeha at a distance or because someone dared interrupt him at all, Bezel wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if pushing Jaeha out was the right choice, either, but one could never be too cautious, he supposed. And since Jaeha had already been caught keeping them in the blurry territory of omission, it didn't seem totally unfair to do the same. "I'm just paying attention to your warning, Jaeha. No one knows the Wolfking better than you, right?"

Jaeha swung his yellow-green eyes from one to the other, his stare evaluating. Slowly, as if trying to determine what each word meant in their shared tongue, he said, "that is correct, I would think. I know the Wolfking well."

"The Mad King, too?"

Jaeha's tell was almost indiscernible. In fact, If Bezel hadn't spent so many of his lingering centuries studying the minute details of behavior to model his own, he might had missed the way Jaeha's fur rippled at his chest. The sound of his stuttered heart launching itself back into staccato, steadying after a fraction of a hiccup. His head lifted, forming an uninterrupted distance towards the wolf ahead. Beom trotted along, head low towards the forest floor and nose fluttering. He didn't seem clueless--more so completely uninterested in what they discussed. So much so, that if they chose to plan an ambush on him right under his snout, he would slay them all so effortlessly that he could spare them a head start.

"Yes," Jaeha swallowed thickly. The fine cream-colored coat along the tender underside of his throat twitched at the effort, "him as well,"

"They're different." Bezel breathed out. It was a nice sentiment--being right. With company such as Mayvalt Chital and Ira Rule, he rarely got to engage. "Someone managed to wrestle that blood-soaked throne away from Kago. The 'King of Light', was it? Beom called you 'Heir to the King of Light', is he your father? That's why Kago wanted you dead? To stop the legacy of his rivals before it could begin? Or is that what brought about the fight. Father coming along to defend you--it gets deadly." Bezel didn't know if he needed Jaeha to respond at all. He didn't even know if Jaeha would--it helped to tumble down his thoughts into speech, letting the theories grow their own life in the air.

"Jaeha, you said you didn't have any blood relatives left." Ira added.

Bezel's eyebrows lifted. "Right. Just the one who saved you, a new family. The King of Light? So you're adopted royalty."

Jaeha grumbled low in his throat, "I am the prince by blood."

"Are you saying that Kago was your father?" Bezel asked, voice liting in played surprise, "but you're still working for the king who dethroned him?"

Jaeha's tail thrashed angrily. "I prefer to account my heritage through my mother's lineage, the T'kor. The Mad King is all but stricken from memory now. . . in all ways but the scars he left behind. I do not see any action of mine as betrayal. He never had my loyalty."

Bezel dipped his head in simple acknowledgement. It seemed their status as prince wasn't the only thing they shared. A contentious relationship with their sires--Bezel understood that, very well.

"So, why the 'King of Light?'" Bezel asked. "I mean, you were calling him the Wolfking before. Was that to muddy the waters--again?"

Jaeha winced. He had the good will to look embarrassed, his head lowering in apology. "He is both things, companion. As I am both prince Jaeha T'kor and Jaeha. I suppose, if you would like reason, then we do not find much need to distinguish his reign from that of the Mad King's to outsiders. Perhaps, even, he may benefit from the reputation the Mad King built. As for such title, well, he is light to us. He brought us from great darkness."

"He sounds lovely," Bezel remarked dryly, "so can you get to the part where he's undefeated and killed a grandchild of Mammon?"

"Bezel!" Ira hissed sourly.

"Only being practical, love." Bezel rolled his eyes.

"It's Ira." Ira corrected stiffly.

"What a terrible friend I'd be to forget that, darling." Bezel said.

"You're-" Ira sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it, "-not worth it." He punctuated his point with an even more pointed pout, his eyes going distant. His limbs move mechanically through the twisted trees.

Jaeha licked at his teeth, head swiveling between the two again. "Have you two. . . known each other long? Friends always bicker when they have gotten to truly known each other."

Ira squeaked and turned pink around the ears. "I-I mean not really! Well, I've known of him since I'm Progeny but--uh, no. Not really."

"We're freshly acquainted." Bezel agreed. Ira's gaze darted to his shoes, heart stammering. Any confusion the behavior would have stirred up was quickly replaced by a new sort of shock.

"Ah," Jaeha barked excitably, tail wagging quickly, "then it must be the other thing!"

"The other thing?" Bezel repeated slowly.

"Yes!" Jaeha yelped with a hop on his three good legs. "My mother and second-father argued much like this when they were newly fallen!"

"Fallen?" Bezel echoed. He remembered falling--quite literally in same cases. He was, after all, a fallen Prince. But how did that apply to Ira Rule? He swung his golden cat eyes towards the Bishop, seeking explanation. The knight had gone pale at the throat and red at the ears, his cheeks a mixed pink between both places. His wide eyes flashed to Bezel, glimmering with a mosaic of untouchable human emotion. His cheeks flushed, filling to match his ears, and his heartbeat thudded uncomfortably quick. "Oh." Bezel finished.

Jaeha yipped happily. "Neither make moves to deny it!"

"Wait!" Ira sputtered--skin fiery. "Ju-just hold on now-"

"Jaeha." The snarled rasp interrupted the pup-like joy. Jaeha's head snapped forward, eyes meeting Beom's sharpened gaze. The black wolf lifted his head, increasing his already imposing size. His half ear stayed dormant on his skull while the other fluttered each way the wind curled between the trees. "Enough playing around. We are near now. You will stick aside me so I can assure my king I did everything to prevent another escape from you."

Without waiting for much of a reply, the wolf turned on his heels and sliced back through the forest. Jaeha growled, lowering his head down to his paws. "Then again, perhaps dislike is truly just dislike." His tail tucked between his legs, twitching dejectedly. "Hurry along, companions. You must pass the border alongside us or risk going mad from the barrier."

"R-right." Ira cleared his throat pointedly, flinching as Jaeha slipped away leaving him behind with Bezel. He rolled his shoulders and flicked along the handles of his Ossein daggers with trembling fingers. "We should catch up." He muttered.

"Go ahead." Bezel said coolly, head dipping in acknowledgment. "I'm right with you."

Ira sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, rolling it once or twice before releasing it. "What Jaeha said-"

"Don't worry about that, darling." Bezel laughed earnestly. "I took no offense."

The Bishop flushed red, "good! You shouldn't. 'Cause you know it's not true and all. I mean--obviously. I'm going to find Melchior and you have that whole. . . situation."

"My Soul?" Bezel guessed. The empty spot inside of him hummed with inactivity. A cold and hollow pit that did nothing beyond remind him of how it felt to be warm. He was almost jealous of Ira's simple embarrassment. How unpleasant it could feel to be alive was something one came to miss after centuries of being frozen in a state parallel to it. "You're right."

Ira's footsteps hesitated in time with his flinching pulse. "Bezel, I-" his voice shuttered, turning small and vulnerable. Bezel's eyes fluttered towards him, peeking in interest. "I don't know. . . never mind. Let's just find Melchior."

He pressed forward, leaving Bezel behind to ponder what line they had nearly crossed. Ira Rule was keeping secrets--he was as obvious as a blindfolded hippopotamus in a ballet class, but Bezel had never found it his place to press before. This partnership was a new one, built out of necessity. A literal case of end of the world desperation. If Ira wanted his secrets, he was well entitled to them. Besides, what good would they do Bezel? He shook aside the useless thoughts and sped up his steps to join the rest of the party.

Beom was in the lead, his bulky black coat a large splotch of darkness in the dim. Lagging a half step to his right, Jaeha walked with his head lowered and tail still. Ira looked caught between anxious readiness and hesitation, his eyes filling and draining with optimism every few paces. Bezel might not have shared in the finer details of emotion, but he could find enough logic to at least justify it. This was their final act. The last lead that could bring them to Melchior. If it didn't pan out--then not only were they lost, directionless, but then they had no weapon capable of defeating Mammon. More than just longing hung on Melchior's shoulders. Bezel just hoped he would be up for the task.

The kris slung across Ira's back drew Bezel's eye again. A weapon capable of killing a Prince. If only there was a way to restore--he shook his head, dissolving that useless line of pondery before it could grow troublesome roots. Melchior was their greatest chance. Bezel just wished there was something beyond challenging a king killer to get them their prize. The idea stung some deeper part of his brain--a gut instinct? Maybe. A warning? More likely. Bezel had the distinct notion that he was stood in the middle of a frozen lake, listening to the groaning of ice beneath his boots. One wrong step and he would be plunged into the frozen depths. A low rumble filled the air. Bezel almost discounted it as part of his vivid déjà vu except the noise drew reaction from Ira and Jaeha. Ira's shoulders tensed. Jaeha's head lowered impossibly lower, his chin drawn to his chest fur. To each side of the parade, the underbrush trembled. Sleek, dark shapes poured out into the overgrown trail. Wolves. The same six from before, only with the addition of bloodied maws and matted fur. They formed a wall from which no escape would be possible, cornering Bezel, Ira, and Jaeha forward. Beom became the gate of the container, keeping his lead as they advanced.

"Is it done?" Beom rasped in his human-tongued bark. For a wolf who spoke two languages, it seemed a deliberate choice to have this conversation in the one they shared.

"Yes," came the rattling reply, "the hound of hounds is no more."

"Ah," Bezel clicked his tongue. He wanted them to know what happened to enemies of the king. Bezel heard the warning clear as storm sirens--but too late to turn back now, he kept his mouth shut as they advanced into the Sikker. It wasn't much longer before each step became a conscious effort. The air tensed as they proceeded. A living pulse that beat in the wind, battering against the sides of Bezel's mind. The sharp scent of ice infiltrated his lungs, stinging with invisible teeth against the inside of his organs. Ira winced, his limbs shaking with each labored step forward.

"What is this feeling?" Ira whispered, voice weak and whispery.

"The barrier." Jaeha answered. "It will pass soon, companions."

Ira's skin was snow-pale and slickened with sweat. His steps faltered, his body becoming stone stiff between the trees. "I-I can't go anymore. I feel like I'm go-going to die if I g-go." His body broke free from its paralyzed state just enough to shiver.

Bezel kept walking until he eclipsed Ira, his palms raising to press softly against the flat of his shoulder blades. "I'll help you, darling. It'll be over before you know."

"Don't you feel it?" Ira choked.

"I can feel that it's there," Bezel answered, "I can feel that it wants me afraid. But, no, darling. I can't feel it."

"Lu-lucky you," he chuckled between his clacking teeth, "I thought you were meant to shield us through it, Jaeha."

"This is quite dampened, companion." Jaeha answered, head dipped in acknowledgement.

"Oh," Ira exhaled.

Bezel contained his smirk, figuring it was the wrong gesture if he wanted to escape this moment without an elbow to his stomach. "Come on, darling."

"Ira." He shivered.

"I know," Bezel murmured into the space nearest his ear. Ira shivered again. Bezel's hands pressed more firmly into his back. Beneath the centimeters of shirt and skin, Bezel could feel Ira's heart thudding beneath his palms. Alive. Warm. Bezel traced his palms outward from his spine, following the slopes of his shoulders down to his arms. His fingers wrapped around each of Ira's elbows, so the Bishop was trapped in his hold. Ira exhaled and slumped backwards, his spine connecting with Bezel's breastbone. Each of his heart's fluttered kicks echoed deep into Bezel's chest. It felt like he had a pulse of his own. Before he could begin to long for it, Bezel gently pushed the knight forward. On fawnish legs, he obeyed. Each step he took, Bezel mirrored to maintain the lack of distance between them. Even as the trees seemed to loom menacingly over head, the air thickening to cement consistency, Bezel forced him forward. Locked in what must have been a mocking waltz. Ira was small in his arms. Vulnerable and fragile as a glass sculpture. Bezel kept his fingers clasped lightly--too wary of shattering him. He didn't know for how long he kept Ira pulled into his space, he only realized the moment Ira pulled himself out of it. His throat cleared pointedly, his ears flushed pink.

"It's fine now," he muttered, "you can let go."

Bezel tilted his head and sniffed at the air. It had settled again. The sharp scent had become softer, more pine-ish. He slowly adjusted his fingers, as if suspecting Ira of bolting. Jaeha was watching with wide yellow-green eyes, tail twitching in amusement. Ira coughed awkwardly and broke free, placing himself ahead and back at Jaeha's side. The traitorous little wolf did a round of chittering laughter, which Ira rewarded with a sharp glare. Bezel's fingers twitched, curling inward to hold onto the warmth that had soaked into his skin.

"Behold, outsiders," Beom barked loud enough to draw their eyes. "You are now in the land, and the mercy, of the Wolfking."

The forest broke, giving way to fresh air and space that wasn't choked by roots and grabbing branches. High above, a full silvery moon hung in the ink-black sky. Painted in silver streams of light, Bezel drank in the sight of the wolves new home. Sprawling hills rolled up and down, waves contained in the large clearing as they would have been in a pond. The earth, released from the stronghold of the trees and roots, was soft with pillowy green grass. At the center of the tree-less oval, the land pitched skyward to form the rocky body of a hollowed mountain. Hollow, Bezel suspected, because of the yawning mouth in the center of the ledges.

"Very homey," Bezel commented. He was repaid in one sharp blue eyed glare and seven snarls. "Touchy."

"Hyejin, take these challengers down to the-" Beom traded his words for jagged barks, leaving Bezel to wonder if they were being put up in the guest room or tossed from the highest point of the rocks. Then, ever the cynic, he wondered if that flared doubt was what Beom wanted him to respond with. He swallowed it and rolled his shoulders to shake it off.

A dusky gray wolf with pink fur matted on her cheeks, Hyejin he presumed, yapped once in agreement before she stepped forward with a snap of her ruby-red teeth. On her heels, two growling wolves followed. They slipped into the space between Jaeha and Ira, pushing the knight closer to Bezel and away from their prince. Ira's feet slipped in the slick grass from the speed at which he backed off. Bezel steadied him with a hand cupped under his elbow. For as long as it took for him to collect himself, Ira allowed it. Bezel tried not to feel shunned when the Heimrian shook him off--easy enough, anyway. Beom growled at Jaeha, shoving him lightly forward with a knock from the side of his chest.

"Wait!" Ira stammered, "Where is Jaeha going? You can't just take him!"

Jaeha whined, ears pinning to his skull. "They can, companion."

"That's not fair!" Ira insisted. "You completed your trials. They can't just ground you. You're the prince, angelsake."

Jaeha's tail twitched nervously. "Thank you for saying so, companion, but Beom was correct when he said I was never issued a trial."

"Beom isn't the Heir to the King of Light." Ira snapped, chin angling up in defiance.

Bezel winced and set his face into his opened palms, a groan slipping up between his clenched teeth. "Oh, darling," he muttered. What once seemed a simple job of keeping one Heimrian alive in the depth of Hell was becoming increasingly difficult with every demon he went around slighting.

Beom's good ear perked, his lips curled over his fangs. The six wolves in his guard matched him until the air vibrated with the music of their warnings. Jaeha's tail twitched cautiously, his head lifted. "No. . . he is not," he worked out slowly.

Beom rumbled threateningly. Jaeha chittered his barking laugh and took a hesitant step towards the partition of snarling hellhounds separating him from Ira and Bezel. Their gazes fluttered towards Beom, heads tilting in confusion. Beom's lips twitched over his sharp fangs but he barked nothing. Jaeha's tail flicked as he took another step. They Ze'ev looked at one another, yipping softly, but none moved forward to stop Jaeha from slipping into the space between Bezel and Ira again--a place he seemed inclined to inhabit.

"If you chose this, there will be consequences." Beom promised.

Jaeha lifted his head, eyes narrowing in a rare display of confidence. "I know, but that is not enough to dissuade me."

"Seongah, run ahead to the Wolfking and inform him of Jaeha's latest pupish display," Beom grunted. A charcoal brown wolf near the back of the pack stepped forward, head swiveling between the large black wolf and the much smaller tri-colored one. Jaeha dipped his head in acknowledgement. With a startled yelp, the Ze'ev sped up on their paws. The wolf ran down through the sprawling clearing, disappearing into the black maw of the mountain. Beom's teeth flashed from behind his lips, tail flicking in irritation. "Hyejin, escort Jaeha along with the challengers. He can rot with the poor company he wants to keep."

The gray she-wolf grumbled in the pit of her chest and snapped her teeth. Pressed forward by a surging tide of sharp fangs and wicked claws, Bezel allowed himself to be guided towards the opening between the jagged rocks. His time basked beneath the glow of the silver moon was regretfully brief before his boots navigated root, rock, and soil again back into the dim. Walled in at all sides by tall gray stone, the sound of claws clicking and hot breaths filled the lightless hall.

The dark air of the cavern was packed with punches of Fetor--none as severe or as threatening as what made their border, but enough to draw his attention. He cast a quick glance towards Ira, but if he was aware of the magic swirling around he didn't show it.

Jaeha lifted his head to it and shivered, his tail twitching. "Smells like home," he murmured, voice thick and shackled by a unique sense of hiraeth.

Nearby, Ira hissed out a curse. The sounds of his feet tangling filled Bezel's ears. "I'm getting tired of stumbling through the dark. I hope our next quest takes us to a beach. A bright, sunny, tree-less, cave-less beach."

Bezel huffed out an amused snort, drifting towards Ira with his hand outstretched. His fingers brushed Ira's wrist, guiding his next steps forward without more need for a sterner hand. "A beach, huh? Sounds nice. Am I invited?"

"No," Ira scowled, face pinched for emphasis. That his expressions still danced, even under the cover of night and expectation of privacy, fascinated Bezel enough to keep his golden eyes pinned to it, waiting for the next flicker. "But, uh, you could tag along I guess."

"So, I am invited?" Bezel smirked.

"No." Ira grumbled, blue eyes rolling. "At most, I'm inviting you to come uninvited."

"Okay." Bezel said, his smile bleeding into his words. "Well, I'll have to check my schedule and everything but-"

"Oh, buzz off." Ira snorted, shoulders shaking under the efforts to contain his laughter. "Angels, I think I need to sort out my priorities. I mean, here we are, getting escorted by a platoon of Ze'ev to some possibly awful death and I'm thinking of a trip to Brighton."

"Is there any better time to think of Brighton?" Bezel asked, head tilting. "It beats the alternative."

"Going crazy in the dark?" Ira guessed.

"It is not always dark," Jaeha murmured, his voice soft as fresh snow. "Only when it is quiet."

Ira's stumbling feet paused momentarily before they surged forward again, skidding on the stones. Bezel's eyes narrowed, working hard to drink in the reaches of the silver moonlight to see the winding path ahead. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"The lights have just fallen asleep is all," Jaeha said, somewhat nonsensically. "Let me show you."

The rumble began at the center of his chest, soft and warm like candle wax. It expanded outward, growing in volume as it bloomed up Jaeha's throat, easing out into the chilled cavern. He tipped his head high, aiming the sounds of his melodic howl towards the ceiling, and to the moon beyond all those layers of rock. For precious few seconds, the cave echoed with the sounds of his low song before it grew still and dark again. And then the moon responded. The jagged peaks above began to glow. Twinkling flashes of gloomy blue lit up the abyss, more, and more as each fluttery pulse of light reacted to the last.

"Stars," Jaeha smiled shyly, "or worms, but a ceiling of stars is what we tell the pups. They like the idea that we will never be far from the sky again."

Bezel craned his neck, tilting his head back to stare up into the web of tangled silver lines. Ivory threads of silk, twisted and formed between the peaks, reflected the light from the luminescent weavers.

"Wow," Ira breathed. Bezel's eyes dropped from the imitation galaxy to take in a new sort of view. The Bishop's yellow hair framed his face, shining like a halo--and Bezel would know. His blue eyes were wide and upturned, sparkling with all the light the cave had to offer. He spun slowly on his feet, chasing each fluttered jolt of low light as it beat against the rocks. "It's amazing, Jaeha."

Jaeha wagged his tail happily, turned his head skyward and barked, deep and commanding. The ceiling burst into signals of scintillating colors. Winking yellows, flickering greens, and flashing oranges. Ira sucked in a gasp, watching until they settled back into a comfortable blue. Each color was painted clear across Ira's cheeks, mirrored in his eyes. Ira turned his face towards Bezel, his lips curved softly up. "Did you see it?"

"Yes," Bezel answered.

Ira rolled his eyes playfully. "You didn't even look."

"I saw it." Bezel shrugged mundanely.

Ira's eyebrows creased, as if he was deciding if Bezel was awestruck or just being his usual taciturn self. The answer, Bezel thought, was quite obvious. What conclusion Ira came to, however, as his features schooled themselves, Bezel didn't know. To their heels a wolf growled, pushing them forward again.

Deeper they descended into the caverns. Tunnels broke apart, split up, twisted, divided, rejoined, doubled-back, collided, crossed. They traveled every single one, it seemed.

"At least they didn't blindfold us." Ira shuddered. "Once was enough for me."

"I don't think a blindfold would make much difference," Bezel pointed out. As they spiraled further into the damp earth, the paths had become thinner. Then, darker. Jaeha had whined apologetically, saying something about how the worms didn't like the colder paths deep under the mountain. Bezel hadn't been paying it much mind. He had been keeping his tuned eyes on Ira, watching to keep him from tripping himself.

Just as the tunnels had become precariously formed, floors flushed with boot-eating rocks and toe-grabbing roots, they drew to an end. A dead end, it seemed. The wolves pressed them into a blunt wall made of tangled brown roots. The stems emerged from the silvery stone like veins from torn flesh.

Distantly, but not so distant it would be impossible to find, the soft sounds of dripping echoed back to Bezel's keen ears. The gray she-wolf growled, her sharp noise filling the dark.

"She wants us to go in," Jaeha translated, ears pricked.

Ira, newly blinded by the lack of light, turned his face to where he presumed Bezel was. He was. . . close enough. Bezel leaned forward on his heels to better align himself in Ira's sightline. "Go in?"

Bezel narrowed his golden eyes, stretching the limits of his own night vision until crevices appeared in the matted stem wall. It wasn't as solid as it first appeared. Beyond the vegetation and stone, there was an emptied space. A room as dark as sin, hollowed from the cave wall.

"To the cell," Bezel answered. "Come, watch your head."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Why not?" Ira gumbled as he shifted awkwardly forward.

His hands splayed out before him, palms running along stone and root to duck beneath the twisted stems. He navigated himself into the space behind the wall of tangled wood, vanishing into the pitch beyond. Bezel followed soon after, doubling in on himself to fit his tall frame into the doorway. The stone floor behind the curtain was slick and slanted, tossing Bezel's feet forward so that he slipped further into the cellar. He tumbled into Ira--or, rather, a warm body that he hoped was Ira and not a recently deceased corpse. The cell was tomblike enough without fresh death. The air inside still and stale, thick against Bezel's tongue.

"Remove yourself from my person before I start removing pieces from yours." Ira grunted.

Bezel winced apologetically and began the strenuous task of untangling their limbs in the cramped space. He extradited enough room to attempt to stand--an idea that died as soon as it was born. The jagged ceiling rattled against Bezel's skull, forcing him back down to his knees. He shifted precariously, elbow rubbing Ira every few seconds.

"It's cramped in he--oomph!" Bezel hissed as Jaeha's furry hide knocked into him.

"Apology, companion." Jaeha barked, wiggling on his back until he was able to gather his paws beneath him. He pushed up to his full height--leaving him inches to spare before hitting the ceiling--and shook off his heavy coat. "Confining, is it not?"

"We were just talking about that." Ira commented dryly. His clothes rustled, his shoes knocking the sides of Bezel's legs, as he adjusted himself. "It's wet, too. Do I want to know?"

Bezel's head tilted in the direction of that melodic dripping he'd heard earlier. He stretched out an open palm, seeking until a single drop of cold water landed against the cool skin of his fingertips. He rolled it between his fingers. "Spring water, I think. Not enough to drown us." He joked stiffly.

"Not enough to keep us from dying of dehydration, either." Ira countered somberly.

"We won't be here that long." Bezel said. "Right, Jaeha?"

"I know not exactly, companion." He barked in his oily rasping tone. "I have never been imprisoned before. It is exciting."

"Ex-" Ira choked, swallowed hard, and sputtered, "exciting?"

Jaeha's chittering laugh filled the stale air. "Yes! I am having a great time, friends. I have never stood up to Beom before, either." His tail thumped against the slick stones, making a wet thudding that echoed like a third heartbeat.

"Oh, right." Ira sucked in a wince. "I hope you don't get in trouble for that."

Jaeha's tail stilled against the silvery rocks. "With Beom?"

"Uh, sure. . . yeah, maybe." Ira agreed hesitantly. "I meant with the Wolfking but-"

Jaeha barked sharply. "You really think Beom will be mad?"

Bezel found a curved slice of cool rock wall to his back and let his spine slump back against it. The bulky black glass sword across his shoulders made the position awkward, stilted. "Does that worry you? Angering him?" Bezel asked. He furrowed his own brows at his question. Why did he care? Short answer, he didn't. And yet he couldn't stop the questions from pouring out of him like they were giggling children at a slumber party.

"I. . . " Jaeha whined, his rasping barking becoming quieter in the dim. "Yes."

"Because he's Torn?" Bezel guessed.

Jaeha inhaled sharply.

"Torn?" Ira echoed.

"His ear, darling. It was ripped." Bezel explained quickly. "It's an old wolfen tradition to tear the ears off of traitors."

"Oh, angels," Ira gasped. The silky fabric of his shirt rustled. Bezel smirked into the darkness, the image of Ira rubbing at his ears with his palms bright in his imagination.

"Beom is not a traitor to the King of Light." Jaeha sniffed defensively. "We do not. . . do that anymore. It is another scar from the time of the Mad King. We do not hold it against him."

"Ah, that's it then. He's more than loyal." Bezel speculated. "He's close to the Wolfking. You don't want him reporting back to the crown about all your misdeeds?"

"I fear we are much past that point, companions." Jaeha whined pitifully. "He is no doubt with my father now, telling him all of the ways I messed up."

"You think of the Wolfking as your father? Not Kago?" Bezel realized.

Jaeha grumbled childishly, his hot breath huffing into the stale air. "Companions are very interested in Jaeha. Always pestering him."

Bezel sat back against the slick stones, his head angling up to stare into the swath of darkness where the jagging ceiling hung tauntingly. "I suppose I'll keep asking until the secrets I feel you have reveal themselves. I can be stubborn that way." 

In the dark, there wasn't much else to focus on beyond the stutter of Jaeha's nervous pulse. "Secrets, companion?" 

"Secrets," Bezel confirmed again, "such as being a prince, or the Wolfking being a usurper, or being the heir to a new royal lineage. Why you even brought us along in the first place, why you couldn't feel the wolves following us--or Mahan Raj's crew. I can't help but suspect there's one uniting factor to everything you've told us, Jaeha. But I can't place a guess as to what." 

Jaeha remained silent. Still, so not even the rustling of his fur or the scrape of claws on stone cut the nothing. Ira's breathing, the drag of his shirt across his expanding chest, the clunk of his restless boots, was all Bezel had to fill the empty buzzing at the front of his skull.  Nearby, the water source dripped. Droplets puddled against the stone, melodic and evenly spaced. 

Drip, drip, drip. . . 

Ira's heart thumped. 

Drip, drip, drip. . . 

Jaeha breathed in. 

Drip, drip, dr-

Claws echoed from the slanted shaft above. Approaching from the passage beyond their confined space between the rocks and roots. Bezel angled his ears towards the interruption. Ira tensed, his heart sped. Jaeha clambered to his paws, his breathing rushing. The foot steps drew nearer, stopping at the mouth of the chute. 

"Challenger, approach." Beom's rasping bark slithered down into their cage. 

Ira's boots scuffed the stone. "Both of us?" He hissed, his voice amplified by the tight walls. 

"Challenger." Beom repeated, snarling. 

"That would be me, I suppose." Bezel placated. He gathered his long limbs beneath himself, carefully rising as far as the ceiling would allow. The Vestige carried a new sort of weight against his back, shifting to settle in the place between his shoulders. 

"Are you still intent on facing the Wolfking?" Jaeha asked. 

"Of course he is!" Ira snapped quickly. "I mean, angels. You. . .are. . . right?" 

The uncertainty was clear in his voice. As vulnerable as the soft belly of a flipped rabbit. Bezel licked his sharp teeth, steeled his legs to carry him up and out of the pit, and began to climb the slick slope. 

"Bezel?" Ira whispered into the dark. "You'll follow the plan, right?" 

Bezel's throat tensed, swallowing around the knotted words tangled just behind his tongue. How was he meant to commit to a plan he didn't believe in? Was facing the Wolfking in battle the best option? He couldn't see the path ahead, not through all the shade and fog that had been thrown across it. 

"Bezel?" Ira croaked, his voice distant. As if the root bars could keep it at bay. 

Bezel stretched to his full height, blinking his adapted eyes to find Beom in the dim of the greater hall. The black wolf nodded his head and turned on his paw, seemingly confident that Bezel would fall in line behind him. 

"Bezel!" Ira called into the void, his screams trembling like they had become frozen from the cold inside the belly of the mountain. "Please! Please just follow the plan! We're so close! Please!" 

Bezel shut his eyes. A few steps, a few more twisted halls, and the echoes of Ira's begging had to be an illusion. Something seared into Bezel's skull. He reasoned, anyway. But he could hear it all so clearly. 

"I'm sorry," he replied, knowing that Ira wouldn't hear him back.