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Sleep. While she didn't know it yet, one thing she and Corbin had in common was a general unsettledness about sleep. Though, as he hated it, she did not... she simply disliked the potential for dreams.

The dead were not supposed to dream. Her bed was a token, a large opulent lidless coffin where she was supposed to die for a day, until nightfall came again. Still, unmoving, unfeeling.
And yet dreams did sometimes find her. Dreams so vivid they were real until the moon rose, and she snapped awake like a drowning man surfacing for a gulp of air, usually accompanied by a blood sweat that ruined her sheets.

Tonight was one such night. Part of her had almost expected it after the evening she'd had with Eris and Corbin. Especially Corbin. Something in her had suddenly stabbed at her, some pang of guilt, and a savage care for him she didn't feel quite at home with. It reminded her of....
The dream was expected, if not wanted, yet did not take the form she had anticipated. Vague, formless harm to Corbin and herself were not her bedfellows tonight, nor were portents of Amatsu and the boy.
Instead... the scarily handsome long haired man, with the wicked laughing grin, too wide for his face, and hauntingly familiar eyes.


As once before, she found the dream taking her away from any place she knew, to some horrendous plane of unreality and laws she couldn't fathom. And a feeling of age. A very very great age unlike that even she herself had experienced. Age that reminded her of Ice... ageless, immortal, omnipresent.
The field of bones took centre stage again. Some of the skulls weren't human. Nor were they any animal she knew. Some looked like they had been made of wax, eye sockets melting together horrifically, yet the skulls crumbled to ash with brittle age when touched.
Her feet slithered on the malleable pile, some bones shattering under foot, others proving thick as her thigh and slick to the touch, her boots unable to grip.
Yet she made it up the rise ahead of her, and steeling herself against the churning red of the sky, she peered towards the horizon. Endless fields of white, broken up only by a black, pyramid like rise in the centre of the 'valley'.
Shrugging, she headed for it. It took time. Even in a dream, where time was irrelevant, it felt like an age. Her footing refused to remain solid, and more than once she would have sworn something living moved beneath her, shifted in uneasy rest.

"Disconcerting, isn't it?"

She froze, one foot at the base of the obsidian step pyramid. She knew the voice. She didn't turn to face it, just nodded agreement and carried on upwards. A chuckle tickled the back of her ear, then the feeling was gone. Walking upwards, her legs slightly stretched with the depth of the stairs, she steadfastly kept her gaze on the obsidian ahead of her, and not the tumult of the sky which still roiled like a fresh wound.
It was due to this that she didn't feel or see the liquid seeping out of the interlocking slabs until she was quite some way above the pooling slickness, and the scent finally awakened her to it.
Blood.
Glancing up, the pyramid seemed as big as it had been when she started climbing, with her no closer to the top.

"It's you again, isn't it? Up there?"
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Time is irrelevant. As is space."
"...but it isn't about time, is it? It's about..."
"...blood."

For a fleeting second, she was stood on top of the pyramid, gazing up at the facadé of the castle thereon, and the frozen king on his throne, those piercing eyes gazing out on the entire forsaken realm, and on her too. For a second, she perceived him truly. He was....


She snapped awake, gasping in air she didn't need, her sheets tangled around her limbs like boa constrictors.
Gripping into the bed, she stayed where she was, breathing hard, until the induced heartbeat in her chest returned to 'normal', and she swung her legs off the bed.
Wiping a hand over her bloodstained face, she sighed and pressed the tanoy by her bed.

"Jan? I'm up. Bring up a change of sheets and vitae, will you?"
"A dream, milady?"
"I... yes."

She got up and headed for the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she sought out body scrubs best suited to getting off the blood stuck to her, and untied the ponytail still in her hair from the previous night. Steam misted the mirror, and for a second, just a second, she would have sworn to seeing indigo eyes there, before it fully misted over....

she shook the dream off, and washed. Dress today was a combat outfit, including weapons and belt. She had just finished putting this all on when Jan arrived with her drink. The bed was already changed, the maids leaving as he came in. Wordlessly, she took the drink, downed it in one and headed for her desk.

"Are you alright, milady?"
"Fine. Has Pyke finished?"
"Yes Lady DeSeer."
"Tell him to keep working on the new project. And find me a geneticist. The very best money can hire. Add them to the Foundation's lecturing staff, and let me knwo when its done."
"A geneticist?"
"Just do it. And send Corbin up."
"...at once, Milady."

For a few seconds, she stared at Corbin in as close to a blank state as she ever had... then shook her head and smiled.

"Nothing major. Mostly, I just feel more comfortable armed, particularly when I know Ice has an interest in whatever I'm currently up to. I suspect you will unfortunately come to the same feeling soon enough. I still can't believe you told him you were pretty."

She poured drinks for both of them, sighed and sat back. She flicked her laptop open and turned it to face Corbin. On the screen, another mansion similar to the one they were in was showing, flicking through various rooms, class halls and other learning based images, plus what could only be fundraisers and other fancy dinners. The top of the page simply stated: 'The DeSeer Foundation. Learning. Innovation. Investment.'

"Have you ever heard of the DeSeer Foundation, Corbin?"

"Har har har. No."

Throwing him a dirty glance, her tone could have cut glass. She did smile after though, accepting she knew he spoke in jest... or at least she hoped he was.

"It's a charity of sorts I set up many years ago. In part, it helps me launder money, avoid people noticing I don't die, and also keep my fingers in several important pies all at once.
In essence, it's an academy for the extremely elite learned, who are not peers. I hire the very best of lecturers, get them to teach kids who cant afford high class universities, and I turn them towards study into things I'm interested in, as well as getting automatic stocks in any of their successes, allowing me to keep myself filthy rich, which really does help when you don't want people to notice you're immortal.
The Foundation also donates heavily to the needy year in, year out and hosts other functions and awards as needed. Eccentric heiress. I can waste money and time on this and pretend to be a philanthropist. Especially as... until now... I had no offspring.

Lineage has always been, and will be, an interesting subject with regards to the Foundation. I usually bequeath it to an adopted female heir every now and hen, or a 'child' in the long distant past when I could pretend I'd had a baby. But now... there's you."

"I'm not getting AT anything. I'm telling you it causes a problem, or more, we simply need to look at this officially.

There are already questions being asked about the men living in my house, and they wont just go away. The world at large wants to know who you all are, which I can easily cover and lie about, but the Foundation will also need an heir one day.

The easiest way to solve it would be to officially make Corbin DeSeer a reality, and a legal entity."

She stated it simply, steepling her fingers towards the end simply to observe his reaction to what she was clearly suggesting - officially adopting him into her empire, and bloodline.

"There has never been a male heir. To my fortune and the Foundation at least. To the name? You will have a lot of work to do to earn that."

"Heh... trust the arrogant, pretty boy kid not to understand a word of what I'm saying...."

She snorted, and turned the laptop back around to face herself, tapping her fingers lightly on the keys before reaching a decision.

"No, I don't need it of you yet. I can lie for a lot longer than this. At least until what I just offered means something to you. More than a chore.

We have time. Even if it isn't... about... time..."

Her gaze unfocused, then she shook her head again, sighing as she stood up.

"I have a meeting with the Foundations' lead lecturers tonight. The house is in your hands, do a sweep of the grounds, check for trouble, alright?"

"Sir is rather cruel upon the Lady I fear. For more time than she was alive, she has been dead and angry. She does not entirely know how to reconcile this with being caring and having a human side she had long since written off re-awoken.

In all.. you are mostly guilty of being young. That will change, in time. Do not dwell on it."

Jan followed Corbin out and lightly rested a hand on his shoulder as he spoke. Then he nodded towards the stairs.

"Your weapons are to be left in your possession now. They will not be taken from you again. Stay safe, young master. That is the best you can do. That... and keep learning."

The fact Corbin didn't understand wasn't entirely suprising. Even Roan herself didn't understand, and as was her nature, in response to what was in part a rejection, she dropped it like a hot rock, and forced herself to quell the anger incurred.

This left Corbin patrolling the acres of ground the mansion sat on, alone. It was dark, quiet, and lonely. Nothing stirred, nothing moved, except the standard nightlife and insects one would expect.
No werewolves, no vampires no other supernatural creature around save for Corbin himself.

And the voice.

.: Ah, there you are. Having fun yet, child? :.

.: Of course I don't surprise you. It is neither my intent, or the nature of our relationship.
I was wondering how long until you moved into an easier spot to talk to you. I think you should know you're being watched. And not by the house guards, CCTV or mistress you serve, even though all of those DO have an eye on you.

I think you can guess whom. :.

The voice was... smug. Incredibly smug. Amatsu's tone almost purred as he spoke, content in the knowledge he knew something Corbin didn't, as yet, and was amused by the entire situation. Ironic, considering he was the one who was potentially trapped for eternity, and Corbin was at least wandering of his own accord.