Patrolling in Destiny City always seemed best done at night. At night was when Negaverse activity picked up. Maybe it was because the crowds of people out and about thinned, making it easier to pick off stragglers… maybe it was because the shadows made it harder to spot dark uniforms… or maybe, like Ida, night was simply the only time not claimed by obligations like school and work. Ida assumed officers had lives like she did, with the usual restrictions, after meeting a few purified knights who were as normal as she was. If you could call that normal.

There was a small dot of light on Ida’s compact and it was that light she was following now. The eternal wasn’t even sure why she still tried to make contact with the basics… there was very little proof that her small mentoring sessions did them any good, but it was hard to break what had become a habit and a routine. She had been doing it for so long, it would have felt strange to stop, and one could argue there had to be benefit in what she was doing. Basics and Pages started out with nothing, unless they were lucky enough to have a cat present who felt chatty. Leaving them to fend for themselves was like leaving a lamb alone in the middle of an alligator's swamp. They might not get eaten, but the odds were not in their favor.

The cheerful little light led her to the business part of the town, which was curious and made Ida more wary than usual. There were too many blind corners here, too many things to obstruct vision and places to hide. She couldn’t feel any chaos signatures close, but that could change in moments. Taking a running jump, Ida flew upwards to light on the corner of a darkened store’s rooftop, poised on the balls of her feet. A glance around showed nothing and no one, though the light in her hand still glowed merrily. She was getting closer… she could even feel whomever it was on her inner senses like a warm, scented blanket. Not far now and she’d at least have someone to talk to tonight, for however long they’d let her hang about.

Such a quaint little trinket. Scholomance stood just before the bus bench that now sat unoccupied - most of the customers that lacked cars had long departed. His own cashier, a girl not older than seventeen, had arranged for her shift to end hours ago. He didn’t mind it; by minor laws on working, he couldn’t keep her longer than four hours. Her company grated regardless.

“I wonder what your story is.” He held his hand outward, fingers splayed, not unlike some of the couples he witnessed coming in to size up a ring. Sometimes he would watch the way the girl delighted, her hand held far out in front of her like she could only find the trinket fascinating when held at indiscernible distance. She would c**k her head to the side, eyes sparkling in the best feigned excitement she could construct, and then comment to her husband-to-be about its absolute pleasure on her finger. In truth, he had but one girl in his shop display that kind of behavior, but the notion stuck with him all the same.

But the way he looked at his own ring belied no excitement, no eyes aglitter with interest. He studied it, often with a pensive frown, as he tried to understand it. As if staring it down might open doors to a realm of understanding that he couldn’t access with questions alone.

It came out of the river, he reminded himself. You shouldn’t be wearing it. It’s made of bone - that much is obvious. Organic material rots. Whatever all of this is… Was it meant for you? Or anyone? Does it only speak to interested parties?

Research offered very little results. As an owner of a pawn shop, he knew a surfeit of sources for information on unrecognizable artifacts. He knew the origin of the human skin lampshade ordeal. He knew the cost of shrunken heads imported from third world countries. But this ring, this unusual ring fitted to his exact size, and composed of bone from a vertebrate organism with characteristics much like a human, he started to consider that the ring was made from a child’s body. But how could something of that nature exist without the creator arrested for murder or mutilation of a corpse? Foreign country came to mind as an excuse, but naturally, its composition wasn’t the only mystery.

Only then did he realize something lingered close - and it had a brightness to it that did not repulse wholesale, but beat behind his eyes like the too-strong sun on a summer’s day. He learned - or started to learn - that the origins of these unusual, innocuous ‘intuitions’ stemmed from others of similar strength and composition. ‘Aegir’ was one. So who might this be? His hand returned to a lattice of fingers that often cinched over his stomach. He turned toward the assumed direction, and prepared himself to greet what came.

The little light in her compact revealed itself to be a man, when she finally got close enough to peer over the edge of the building she stood on. It was worrying to find him standing on the street in full uniform, right out where anyone could see him. Some people might dismiss his strange outfit as little more than a costume, but there were many who would recognize the purples and grays for Saturn if his aura didn’t give him away.

He looked unusual from this distance, but then, Saturn knights were not the majority of her experience. Cosmos knights seemed to make up the bulk of it, sprinkled with Venus, Pluto and Mars. That was hardly a detriment, though. It was good to expand horizons and seek new experiences. Ida lifted an arm in greeting before she stepped to the edge of the roof and dropped lightly over it. She fell the three stories to the ground with little effort, landing with knees bent before she straightened and came closer. It gave her some time to study him as she did so, and in turn, let me get a good look at her too. Hopefully he’d be open to conversation. Most were, but there was always a chance that he could be like Lenka and run them off the road before she knew what she had done wrong.

“Hello!” Ida called when she was without a comfortable speaking distance. She offered a smile, putting on her best face. “Are you new? My name is Sailor Ida. I saw your power signature on my compact and I thought I would come and introduce myself. I try to meet the new members of your faction as much as possible so I can offer my help while you’re getting used to things, if you’d like it.”

By the time she’d finished speaking, she was within a polite distance and the senshi offered her hand to the stranger. She rather hoped that this time a shake would be good enough and not the kiss to her knuckles she’d received from Babylon. The former was a bit more comfortable.

I must look like an idiot standing here if the first words out of her mouth are ‘are you new’.

Scholomance smiled as practiced, but the strip of mask over his mouth thwarted all efforts. His cheekbones belied the gesture, but it did not travel to his eyes. A number of flags came up in her speech - the preface of ‘sailor’, much like Aegir’s, ‘power signature’, and ‘faction’. He came into considerably more information than he had when meeting Aegir, which served him to some extent, but playing dumb offered more promise than utilizing what he knew with this girl.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying, Sailor Ida.” He accepted the hand, his all knuckles and bone against her calloused skin. A single firm shake was administered before parting ways. “But you can call me Scholomance.”

Ida herself looked incredibly different from Aegir, who wore a demented ballerina’s outfit. This one looked more like a confused preteen’s idea of a proper halloween costume, given the striped leggings and prominent floral displays. The compact hanging about her neck held a similar emblem - it bounced against her flat stomach while she moved, though she didn’t seem to mind it. He supposed that her ethnicity was more eastern, though he knew not enough of the area to be more precise than that. And she certainly looked young, younger than he, and on par with Aegir.

It seemed to him that everyone who crossed his path of late was of incredible aesthetic beauty. If the lot of them were paintings, he’d make a pretty penny and a quick sale.

“I expect I would be quite aware if I willingly volunteered my services to any ‘faction’; to what, precisely, are you referring?” Working with what he already knew sounded like the best choice presently; if Aegir lied to any effect, then their stories would conflict.

He smiled, as much as she could tell past his mask, and accepted her hand. It was a good opening and it went a ways towards relaxing her. It was silly to be so nervous meeting new people… she’d never been like that before. Another measure of all her internal issues, she supposed, but now was not the time to indulge herself in a little pity party.

“Scholomance. It’s nice to meet you.” She repeated dutifully, testing out the syllables to get them ordered properly. Her hand, when released, came to rest on the compact against her stomach. For a moment, she was confused herself about what she had said that was unclear, until it occurred to her that it was possible for literally everything she had just said to be unknown to this man.

“Oh…” Oh dear. He must be very new. “Ah, well, by faction, I mean what type of powered persona you have. I’m a third ranked Sailor Senshi, usually called an Eternal senshi.” Ida touched her chest, before she gestured at him.

“You are a first rank Knight, which is called a Page. Knights and Senshi are people who draw their power from the Planets and Wonders that they are named for. Everyone with that power gives off a sort of aura or signature that other powered people can feel with a sort of second sense.” Reaching, she pulled the chain of her compact over her head and pressed the button on the front, popping it open. She offered it to him, showing the screen with its many dots of light.

“This compact shows me first level Knights and Senshi, which is how I found you. Being able to feel power signatures is a useful skill for people like us. You can sense who’s nearby, know if they’re friends or enemies, and how strong they are. It can help keep you safe, if you pay attention to it.” Glancing at the street, Ida offered him a small smile when she turned back. “Speaking of… it would be a good idea to find somewhere more private to talk. The pair of us will draw a lot of attention being right out on the street like this. I don’t like to involve regular civilians if I can help it.”

Scholomance’s hands clasped together over his stomach once more. He studied her while she spoke, and his gaze took occasional reprieve from holding eye contact to gather more glimpses of her outfit. It looked unduly impractical for any kind of ‘war’, which only lent credence to his theory that they played along in a dress-up game more than any tactical combat. Spandex is your kevlar, and magic your artillery. You cavort around for patrolling and make house calls for debriefing. I’d say this is quite far from the wars we’ve known in our history.

Luckily most of what she said checked out against’ Aegir’s explanations, which led him to believe that the pair must be telling the truth. To have the two conduct the same lie demanded an orchestrated effort - one he would gladly applaud if he uncovered it - so chances of their meeting being exactly that were slim. Once Scholomance finished surveying pseudo go-go boots and returned to her honey brown eyes, his countenance faded from his customer service smile to a more neutral pensive glance.

Planets and wonders. Auras and stages. Yes, it’s much the same. “Fancy, but it’s all abstract until there’s application for it. Planets and wonders…” He took pause as she went on about her compact.

Leaning over to look more carefully, he noted the innocuous dots lighting up cheerfully on the screen. The map itself displayed a general map of the area to facilitate reaching the individuals shown. It appeared to have a high refresh rate with the smooth movement of the dots. One remained frozen in the center, which Scholomance surmised was himself. “Are these available for everyone?” He asked, pointing toward the screen.

Though I doubt there’s much point in having it. I can’t imagine there’s much danger in fashion faux pas where there are no guns or missiles. What could they do to one another of more peril than a fistfight?

“Right. A new location.” Scholomance rolled down his half-mask in the interim. “I have a business not far from here if you would like to talk in the office. Otherwise…” He drew out the last syllable as he looked about himself. “Hmm. No regular civilians. Well. There’s this vacant office space I may or may not have broken into that’s down on Fifth and Atwood. It’s… Maybe three blocks south of here.”

He was reserved, which wasn’t a bad thing, and he seemed intent on studying each bit of her fuku in turn, which was a bit embarrassing. Ida had an urge to smooth her skirts down, but remembering the attention that action had received from Castor, she managed to restrain herself. That didn’t mean she didn’t hold her compact a little more securely until his attention had shifted away from it and she could return it to hanging about her neck.

“This compact is one of a kind, as far as I know. I found it on my planet and one of the Mauvians fixed it up for me as a way of scanning for nearby signatures. Its nothing you can’t do yourself, or that a senshi phone could do, but I have a pretty specific need for it, so its helpful to me with its boosted range.” She lifted and dropped her shoulders, taking a moment to consider the options he put forward as her teeth worried her lower lip. White and even, they tugged at the fullness before releasing it again as she spread her hands. There was some eyebrow lifting at talk of breaking into an office space, but she let that comment pass. They must be empty spaces and there could be a good reason why he’d break into them. She couldn’t judge him just on the supposition he’d done something.

“Either place is fine with me. You don’t have to expose your civilian life to me unless you want to, though I can promise that I’ll keep that knowledge confidential.”

The lack of mask revealed a thin face below vibrant hazel eyes, and skin so pale she fancied she could see the blue veins beneath it. It was a striking contrast to his uniform with its rich purples and soft grays. Saturn? The symbols say so. He was a far cry from the sparkling, pale rainbow and rose gold that Hver wore, but it wasn’t a displeasing contrast.

“How long have you been a Page, if I might ask?” She said as she stepped up for follow him, a toss of her head settling her thick braid as it trailed down her back and between her wings.

”One of a kind, eh?” A smile returned to his lips while he gave the device a last glance. “I suppose you wouldn’t sell it to me, then. That’s too bad. But it can’t be helped.”

A man about a block away from the pair began shouting in their direction, brandishing an object that Scholomance could not fully recognize. It looked similar to a gun, but not quite like any he’s ever sold. It cut the page short from asking further questions concerning the compact, ‘mauvians’, and planets while driving Ida’s point home about avoiding civilians. Scholomance himself wasn’t worried; he’d recognized the fear-disguised-as-anger tactics from years of living in questionable areas of New York. I can see why he’s angry, if the news is any indication. So ornery over having real problems. Most people would kill for those.

“Right, that ‘private place to talk’...’” He shot her a nod while starting toward the alley just behind her. He did not pass close enough to brush against her; however, he hesitated in the alleyway to toss a glance backward and confirm that the man wasn’t following. No one remained. “My office is a bit closer. The back way is down here and to the right. Just… Prepare your ears. After hours I play music and i generally leave the stereo no a switch-operated outlet, so it’s going to come on once I hit the lights.” And the decibels might disturb the already nervous-looking girl.

He had to admit, there were risks involved in following some strange man to his workplace at this time. The situation grew beyond uncanny with the presence of ‘powers’, though it didn’t change the natural aversion from walking into questionable situations. I think i’d have a similar problem with it in her situation. Though it’d be useful to carry weaponry of some sort… Switchblade, gun, mace spray. Swift kick in the pants has been caught onto a while ago; I can’t imagine it’s effective anymore. And mace too, perhaps. Hard to block a gunshot though.

Hardly a car could fit down the space, and he sidled down a second alley that ran the length of the strip building. Several doors looked out to the alley, adorned with numbers to indicate the suite. Few held more than a sticker to indicate the place of business, but most featured a small door bell for delivery purposes. Scholomance dropped his powered persona when he neared the middle of the building to reveal a thin man dressed in rivethead industrial wear. His mesh shirt featured black leather over the upper torso, thick leather lining that protected the seams, a couple rings on the shoulders for convenience, and rivets along the collar. Over it he wore an open jacket featuring double pockets, a few straps around the waist for cinching, studs in a line down the front and several zippers for convenience. His pants reflected more of the same with studded crosswise reinforcements, a smattering of D-rings and zippers up the sides of the ankles to flare material. Lastly came folded down boots with cloth inlay behind the leather. Fitted well with the outfit came intentionally smeared eyeshadow and meticulous eyeliner, both of black.

Isaiah rifled pockets with back to her, and located the key to hold in a wordless gesture of ‘I found it’. He paused a few doors away, glanced at the lock for a second, and turned toward her with hands gestured palm-outward. He nodded once. “Isaiah Zähne. I’d appreciate it if you would keep this a secret.”

He unlocked the door quickly, paused to warn her to cover her ears, and flipped the switch the switch to bring light (and sound) to the small office space. It housed enough room for an equally small receiving area fitted with two pallets and a gorilla rack at the right, and the offending stereo sat on the rack with speakers mounted to the walls. He crossed to the receiver and turned the sound down to a background noise level before he approached his desk, which stood as a metal and glass L-shape fitted against the wall. On one side sat a desktop and roll-out tray for the keyboard and mouse, while the other held various arranged papers, shipping documents, a file full of certificates of authenticity, printed emails, and other memorabilia. Both rolling chairs looked ergonomic and fitting to the modern theme with minimal decorum beyond a plastic mesh lower back region. He pulled one out for her use and soon took a seat in his, with one leg loosely crossed atop knee and both elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He steepled fingers together and looked at her from an angle while he waited for her to get settled. “To answer your question, I’ve been a page for about a week.”

Her mouth quirked in its own smile as she ran her fingers over her compact.

“If I didn’t need it, I’d consider it.” She said, her voice light. And it was true, too. Her compact held no sentimental value, and if he had wanted it, that would have been incentive enough to give it to him. As it was, though, it saw far too much use to be given, or sold, away.

The shout down the street pulled Ida tense and she darted a glance back at the source before she stepped up closer to Scholomance, a hand lifted to hover near his arm without actually touching him. Being seen by civilians was not something she cared for and it was distinctly uncomfortable to have one take notice now. Especially as the man didn’t turn tail and run, but rather seemed far too brave for his own good.

“What if we had been Negaverse agents…” She grumbled as she stepped up quickly to follow the saturn knight, staying close on his heels as he led them towards what he said was his office. She cast another glance backwards before they left the area completely, glad that she didn’t see anyone making an attempt to follow them. What if they really had been agents? That man’s bluster could have well drawn attention to him and a decision to drain him dry, or steal his starseed to keep him quiet about what he’d seen. Most people in the city knew better than to draw attention to themselves by now, even if it wasn’t consciously.

Ida followed Scholomance down the alley without hesitation, filing away the caution about the music in the back of her mind. It wasn’t much to worry about. Just music, right? The area they walked in held a note of familiarity for her, who had worked and lived above her own small shop. The backs of businesses were always less showy than the front, focused on utility rather than curb appeal. When she felt the drop in power, brown eyes swept up from the uneven ground to see a stranger before her, dressed in black and metal. It was enough to slow her step as she took it in, startled by how much she had not been expecting it, even with him a Saturn knight.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this place. I know how important it is to protect our identities.” She assured him as she dropped her own henshin, exchanging boots for sandals of braided leather and her purple gold fuku for a distressed pair of jean shorts and white peasant top that came down over her hips, cinched in with a brown belt. It left her shoulders and upper chest bare, but comfort had been traded for showing off her tattoo… and maybe she sort of liked how it made her shoulders and neck look. Maybe she wasn’t a complete package, but there were parts of her that were pleasing to the eye, she thought.

The burst of sound as she stepped through the door made her eyes squint as her face tightened, but she accepted the noise until he turned the volume down and she could relax. His music matched him, when she looked him over again while his back was turned. Orah took the seat he offered her, sinking down into it gratefully to stretch her legs out in front of her. A nice break after a long patrol.

“My name is Orah Gowan. I’m a nursing student at DCU right now, about halfway through my program.” She smoothed her shirt down as she crossed her ankles and drew them back to tuck under her chair. “A week? No wonder you didn’t understand anything I was talking about. Senshi are awakened by a Guardian cat and they can usually fill you in on what you need to know. From what I understand, knights awaken sort of spontaneously? Its a problem, how many of the new people are just given power and have no idea what’s going on. Its dangerous.”

From where he sat, it would’ve been easy to look up her skirt if she had been wearing one. He always considered these curiosities, because it shed light on precisely how meticulous people could be in their seating habits when wearing potentially revealing clothing. Women in low-cut tops often sat with their backs against the backrest when not vying for a particularly troublesome deal, and those in skirts commonly crossed legs. He guessed that Orah was quite unconsciously aware that this was not, in fact, a skirt, as she sat in a way that looked natural to her but lacking the modesty one might see in different lower body attire.

It was interesting, at least.

“A nurse-to-be? That’s useful.” He adjusted the angle of his arms so that his index fingers came to rest against his lip temporarily. They moved an inch away when he spoke, though his eyes never faltered in remaining on her. “Was that intentional, or does that have something to do with this… ‘conflict’? I don’t have intentions of shifting my focus from my business, if that’s what will be asked of me.” If there were any organization to this purported war, then the leader would need to drive a hard bargain for him to alter his life as it is now.

Both hands came to rest on their respective armrests and curled into gnarls of skin and bone over the edges. “As you could probably tell from the name of the business, I run a pawn shop. I buy and sell pieces of people’s lives, and I quite like it. I would’ve put my ring up for sale if it wouldn’t consistently come back to me. Though I suppose that’s a fun scheme to try for extra money…” It intrigued him to consider it, but since becoming a ‘page’ the ring no longer stuck around while he was himself. A wave of his hand dismissed the idea altogether before it came down to the unfortunate piece of leather beneath his grip.

“I have heard that there’s some kind of battle going on. It looks more like a feud between rival teenage gangs more than anything remotely threatening. I imagine I won’t put much stock in it until the military comes in with armed forces. The rest of what I know sounds like an argument at best. Something about how I’m a Knight so I have a Wonder, and planets are involved, and mostly abstract information. If you can give me the ‘what’s going on’ and the ‘why should I care’, then that would be quite helpful, Ms. Gowan.”

Dark brows drew together as she considered his question. It had seemed to go one way, and then turned another… but she figured whatever he had meant, answering with her reasons would answer whichever.

“I decided I wanted a career working with people and my life as a senshi made the choice fairly simple. I decided to become a nurse so that I could help those of us who were injured, both with actual care and by helping to disguise their powered life. Its hard to make being run through by a spear look like anything but what it is, but someone who has access to records could maybe smooth things over a little.” Orah leaned to the side to rest her elbow on the arm of the chair, relaxing in the relative safety and privacy of the office. There was no one to over hear them here and very little reason for an officer to bust in on them. Being powered up always had the possibility of drawing unwanted attention.

“Mixing my civilian life into my senshi work is a decision I made, though. You don’t have to let the two bleed together. There are lots of people who don’t. There is no system or single leader to answer to, Isaiah… there is no one who is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Senshi and knights are independent, for the most part… the only systems we have in place are ones that people set up and agree to conform to. Some of us join up in groups or teams, other work alone. It safer in groups, though.” Orah drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, sifting through what she knew to order it for retelling.

“This war started a long time ago, over a thousand years in the past. Most of the planets and stars in the universe had thriving, or at least stable, populations. Each celestial body had a Senshi to protect it, who drew their power from that place. That kind of power is normally referred to as ‘Order’. Knights are harder to explain… I don’t know a lot about how they started out, but I do know that their wonders are smaller, key features of the planets they belong to. Those planets had Royal senshi that the knights served as well. A thousand years ago, a being appeared that had dark power, which we call ‘Chaos’ energy, that didn’t come from a planet or wonder. It raised an army on Earth and attacked the kingdom on the Moon. It was defeated, but it also took a good many of our side with it. Some how, around that time, most of the civilizations out in space were destroyed and the planets devastated. Nobody's entirely sure how it happened. All we know is that those of us living and fighting now had lives or ancestors back then who also fought. The war has, for whatever reason, started up again, we have been reborn into this time, and that dark energy is trying to destroy us.”

It was such a sketchy retelling of their history… she never felt she did it adequate justice. Hver was better at it and she knew more. Ida had always focused more on the here and now than on the history of it.

“So, that is sort of a vague summary of how we got here, but as for why you should care… The Negaverse is all consuming, Isaiah. It doesn’t care if you fight against it or run away from it, in the end its join them or die. I choose to fight because I don’t want to see people hurt and killed when I have the power to stop it. Everyone fights for their own reasons, I think. Or doesn’t fight. You have to decide for yourself what your motivations are. If you want to hear more about the history of it all, I can introduce you to Hvergelmir, a Knight of Cosmos who is a close friend of mine. She knows more than I do and is better at telling the story. It would be good for you to talk to her anyway, because she understands being a knight a lot better than I do.”

Run through by a spear? What is this, the middle ages? This is why I couldn’t call it a war. There are no ******** gunshots during the night. Isaiah held his tongue carefully through her explanation on why she chose to become a nurse. He could understand it, in some respects - part of it was personal drive toward helping people, and part of it was deliberately breaking the law by modifying medical documents. Certainly the latter portion appealed to him, given deals struck between himself and the unlikely, but it was more her later explanation that left him disconcerted and offended.

During that lengthy elucidation, Isaiah’s gaze nigh glazed over while he tried to make sense of it against what he knew. So much of the information sounded so far beyond his suspension of disbelief, so far beyond anything he ever considered as part of reality, that he at once wondered if he had indeed died. Chaos, Order, planetary wars, space civilizations… Was this Dune crossed with a child’s cartoon? He spun a 180 in his chair to get at his desk drawers, and pulled out a vape device to pinch between fingers. He checked the cartridge initially before he turned back around, and took a drag of it to produce the telltale water vapors. Without the hookah-esque flavorings added, it produced no smell.

His hands started to shake with a certain simmering anger that stemmed only from being lied to. One fist balled to prevent it, but the other held his surrogate cigarette and simply would not still. “Ms. Gowan,” he tried again, voice at practiced stillness from dealing with unsavory customers. “Your story is fascinating, fantastic, and quite phenomenal. But I’m not ******** moronic. There’s a certain suspension of disbelief that comes with suddenly becoming another person when I think of a bone ring that I bought off of an eastern european man. It sounds fantastical and impossible of its own. But there comes a point when even that grudgingly bought truth stretches beyond its boundaries into the impossible, the asinine. And I would quite state that you’ve crossed that line.”

Isaiah sought another long drag before he leaned forward, hands laced together and holding captive the vaporizer. “As I said once before, I am a pawn shop owner. In case you don’t know what that entails, it means I am one of the most bitter and jaded people on the planet. We’re the first kind of person that liars, cheaters, and thieves turn to for their latest acquisitions. We get the greedy, the filthy, the demanding, the pandering, the simpering, the testy and the tasteless. We trade in stories, and in putting holes through them. We train ourselves to discriminate and to avoid becoming the fool at the end of the bargain.

“I was the fool to have taken up that man’s deal and bought the lot of rings that included that piece of bone. I was an idiot to have let it interrupt me, and all the more moronic to keep using it as the days passed. And perhaps this is my purgatory,” he added, hands raised in a facetious shrug. “Seems perfect enough. Eternal war, spans the galaxy, good versus evil. It has all the ******** tropes you could possibly want!”

Isaiah halted himself, allowing his hands to drop to armrests with a sigh. One hand came up to press stiff fingers to his forehead while he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry - I don’t think you intended to have it on. You show every sign of believing it yourself. I just can’t let myself believe that I’ve been stopped from suicide to participate in some reinstated war.”

The more of the story she told, the more agitated he seemed to become and by the end of it, she was glad she had gone as vague with the details as she had. He had to resort to smoking to deal with her at that point, and she could see the anger in the pinched skin around his eyes and mouth, not to mention the fist he rested on his desk.

It wasn’t surprising to see this reaction from him. He was very new to this and seemed less open minded about it all than she had been starting out. He was jaded, as he said. She had been fresh-faced and wanting to believe. Her lips curled in a humorless smile, lashes lowering to shadow her dark eyes. She knew how it all sounded, she could hear it when she spoke. But that didn’t change the fact that it was true, every last bit of it, and that gave her confidence. Enough that when he started on his little tirade, she weathered it with hardly a batted lash, relaxed in her chair as she wove her fingers together and let them rest against her stomach.

Where had this calm and confidence come from? It felt strange… but good. She was so often unsure of herself. At least in this, she knew what she was talking about.

“You don’t have to believe me, if its too hard to take in right now. The how and why of it is less important, in my mind, than surviving now that you have power and very real enemies that very much want you dead just because you have it. Dead or one of their puppets.” She said as she tilted her head a margin to the side, watching him as he pressed fingers to his forehead. “Not believing won’t change what is, but think about this; First, I don’t know you and I have no reason to lie to you. And even if I did, there are easier stories to tell… like gang violence maybe, or actual terrorists. Second, you have the proof in that ring you wear. It’s your weapon and using it can power you up into your Page form. Your clothes appear magically, always pristine and perfect, and you have more strength, speed and endurance than you did before. You can jump from ground level to the roof of a two story building, just as an example. No regular human can do that.”

Orah pursed her lips for a moment as an idea occurred and she turned it over in her head. Would it be too much to take in, as new as he was? He seemed overwhelmed enough with just the little he had.

“I could give you proof you can hold in your hands…” She said after a moment, a thoughtful line between her brows. “I can take you somewhere very special to me and show you artifacts.”

It had been a few days since the last time she had visited her planet. Enough time to recharge for another visit. A sudden smile curved her lips and she chuckled. “I’d even let you take one or two if you wanted, as incentive to go.”

Being a stranger himself, he couldn’t expect her to give a s**t, but the fact that she so easily breezed through his revulsion over this tale, and more importantly the declaration of attempted suicide, led him to believe that he might be dealing with a sociopath. Suddenly it made sense that she could sit so at ease in an office with one man and no one to know her whereabouts, if she were the dangerous one.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” he shot back in irritation. Did it not occur to her that he had been sifting stories for years? That perhaps, one of the reasons he grew so high-strung about the ancient war fiasco was because there was a part of him that could find little reason to doubt? That, coupled with the impossibilities that came with becoming a knight, there might be only reason to believe?

Puppetry is a bit trickier than murder, but I don’t think any ‘enemy’ of mine is pulling my strings. I would say she’s doing it, but she never pushed an angle to take. And what persuasion she offers is about the reality of it more than what side to take. She could be priming me. No - ******** it. I can’t stay suspicious about everything anymore. Play along if I have to.

Besides, what do I have to lose? My life? Hah. I lost that to Sidney James.

“Fine, take me wherever you want.” His tone sounded defeated, surly, but capitulating. “But before I go anywhere with you, we need to stop by my condo. I have a feeling I’m going to need a Jack and coke for this to sit well with me.” He stood afterward, shoulders popping with the effort, and pushed the chair into its designated slot beneath his desk. The music was left at the quiet volume it kept; he had a feeling that its quietude in the morning would confirm to him that the lot of this wasn’t a dream. Ultimately he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be or not.

“It’s a ten minute walk. Come on; I need to lock up.” He pulled the key from his pocket and debated if, by shutting this door tonight, he could return to treating everything as a flippant, bygone dream.