Where Two Are Together, There is Divinity

TEA "more tea, miss?" the server asks, gesturing towards the empty cup on the table.tsurubami snaps out of her stupor. once again, she'd been eavesdropping on the group of old men two tables away. she'd been in the village only a few days now, but found this teahouse a font of gossip. she smiled and nodded at the server, and before she could process anything else another cup was sitting on the table, piping hot and wafting wisps of steam into the air. tsurubami hated waiting, so she sneakily dipped her finger into the liquid, using a tiny bit of magic to cool it down to a drinkable temperature. she turns her attention back to the old men, two raen and a doman."i heard that witch took out a whole division yesterday!" the doman said, proud as if he were talking about his own daughter."don't be ridiculous. the garleans aren't that stupid," replied one of the raen, a stouter fellow with bluish skin. "there's no way they'd waste time sending a whole division this high up in the mountains. the witch only fights when they get in her way, anyway.""i think there's more than one witch," says the taller raen, who opted for a cup of plum wine instead of tea. "the merchants have been saying she's taking them out in this area, but we still get stories of her killing them far up in the mountains. sometimes on the same night. what's up with that?"the stout raen grows incensed. "you need to stop drinking so early! you're speaking nonsense! i'm thankful she's keeping our little village safe but she's only doing it because it fits her own schedule! aren't you worried they're just gonna redouble efforts to keep us in check when she's away from here?"the doman flies to his feet, almost flipping the flimsy table to the ground. "you take that back! i heard she's got the blessing of lord kaien himself! she's just playing the long game! you'll see! doma will be free!" he shouts."calm yourself," says the stout raen, helping his friend back into his chair. "you never know when a detachment will run through. the witch isn't here to protect us."tsurubami chuckles quietly to herself. if only they knew, she thinks, before being startled by a hand on her back."you sucked up that tea like a fish! want some more?" she asks, beaming at tsurubami. other than the three old men, they’re the only two in the restaurant. “that old man is funny, isn't he?" she chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at the doman. this being the lower part of the crescent, there were a good amount of domans, especially compared to the higher reaches, where raen tended to dominate."yes, but he has a point, doesn't he? i think the witch will stop the garleans too," she replies, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible."let me get you another cup. we'll be closing until supper after that. nice having you around again!" says the server, fetching a fresh mug of tea in the blink of an eye.IMPLOSION tsurubami walks through the rice paddies with nothing but the moonlight to guide her. she's taken note of every house along the route, and is careful to avoid passing too close to them. while she's fairly certain she can hold her own, she’s always acutely aware that the actual undying witch of the crescent is leagues ahead of her in power, having already achieved immortality by tsurubami's current age. nevertheless, once she's fairly certain she's in the clear, she relaxes a bit.she works off a tip gleaned from one of the old men. he seemed convinced his neighbor was working with the garleans under the table, thinking his midnight walks into the forest to be strange. though it was just a hunch, she decided it was worth out. she'd identified this village in particular as a perfect staging point for further garlean expansion through the fanged crescent region. it had a well developed road network due to it being a local center of commerce, multiple storehouses of food, and some rudimentary stone walls for a modicum of protection, though even that was a luxury in the region.soon, she came to an abandoned hut off the side of the road, nothing more than a rotting pile of ruins at this point. who she saw congregated just outside, illuminated by the dim glow of some manner of ceruleum lamp, was a fair bit more interesting: four garlean soldiers, unmistakable in their gaudy armor, joined by the neighbor from the village. the old man was right after all, she thought to herself.a part of her wished to end their prattling then and there, but she bided her time - the garleans may give up some useful information. she sat in wait, hoping for even a nugget of information, but these were common footsoldiers who seemed more lost than anything.

the heavy metal helmet of the first soldier cracks open, and for a second there is daylight. the remaining soldier and the villager lay in various states of disarray, having been temporarily blinded by the blast, but from afar tsurubami couldn’t help but be pleased with herself - his head had imploded, his brain, his bone, his garlean blood splattering his comrades. she casually saunters towards the carnage, charging energy for her next trick. the three remaining soldiers all meet their end, bested by a flurry of energy.tsurubami arrives at the side of the villager, still lying on the ground, clutching his head and groaning; she surmises he still hasn’t even realized what happened. she delivers a swift kick to his side, and he promptly jolts up, screaming in pain. as he clutches his stomach, she grabs his mud caked hair, forcing his gaze towards the death and destruction she had wrought.“look here, traitor, look! this is the fate waiting for all garlean filth!”the villager bumbles over his words. he realizes nothing he says will help him in a situation like this. but it’ll put his own mind at ease. “i… i just thought… i could…”she gives his hair a swift pull. “i was not done speaking! whelp!” she gives him another swift kick, enough to hurt him but not enough to knock him out. she needs him conscious.“there’s two ways of life: their way,” - she points at the bodies of the soldiers - “and our way. ours is the way of life, theirs the way of death. there is a great difference between them.” she heaves his body forward, laying him flat on his stomach. her geta finds itself in the small of his back and he lets out one last whelp. “unfortunately for you, you have chosen death, and i’m here to deliver.”MURDERER collaborator deaths no longer phased tsurubami. in fact, she took an almost sadistic pride in it. she’d slept soundly that night, almost missing her daily foray at the tea house.the buzz about the village was split. a good portion were simply happy to see the garleans removed from the vicinity. a small portion, yet a loud one, wanted justice for the collaborator. some sought to split the difference, thinking the collaborator needed a chance to explain himself. after a few days, the gossip turned to other topics; a general lack of garlean activity in the area made even the old men switch to talk of who would beat who at mahjong.for her part, tsurubami enjoyed the quiet. it made her job that much easier. she didn’t have to worry for now, as long as the garleans didn’t show their faces.on the sixth day, the buzz returned.the stout old man caught wind of something from a merchant: a large detachment headed towards the vicinity of the village. “had to alert the guard,” he states. “if it’s as much as he said it was, we don’t stand a chance. they’re saying we have to give up. just let the garleans come in and hope they leave after a while. It-”a loud slam. tsurubami clutches her hand; she slammed it hard on the table in anger. she was careless. she didn’t anticipate them seeking retaliation for some footsoldiers.preparations needed to be made. she apologizes to the old men for the interruption, leaves a few coins on the table, and slips out.

cold. it hates the cold.the beast knows very little. the beast knows to eat, the beast knows to rest, and it knows it hates the cold.visitors have come from across the sea. instincts say they are not familiar with the shade, and how it eats. they will be easy targets. thus, the shade took possession of one of their bodies. a female. weaker than the last body, but it won’t matter. these creatures rely on weapons to fight, much like all of the others. cunning will be more useful against them.unfortunately, cunning cannot defeat a crowd. not like this, at least. the beast is pale and covered in scars, chains, and piercings. a crown of wire floats above its head menacingly. it wears the skin of a fallen sister. the second it makes itself known in the light of their fire, they will scatter.cold, so cold.the beast senses a wanderer a small distance away, probably a hunter on the way back with a carcass. an easy target. she floats in that direction.here, beasts act on instinct. they do not formulate plans.the visitors were fresh in this area, and none of the other races of men had laid claim to it. the scrub forest on the border of what is now the black shroud and thanalan was thick and tangled, but full of good food. lhashkal struggles with her kill: an antelope, the largest she’s ever seen. figures she’d kill it when her hunting partner was still missing. the previous night, kulhah had wandered away from camp and not returned.or so she thought. some of the details were off, but this was definitely kulhah standing right in front of her. she must’ve been too focused on the antelope to hear her sneaking up.“kulhah? is that you? you look weird,” she says, a little put off by her friend’s choice in attire. perhaps she’d been trading with some of the locals.a voice calls out, mimickingly: “yeah, it’s me! do you like my new clothes?” the beast spins around, a disgusting facsimile of a human interaction, showing off its garb in the moonlight.lhashkal is unconvinced. she drops the leg of the antelope and takes a few steps back. “it’s… unique. where did you get it? and why are you pale as the moon?”the voice sings once more: “some of the people already living in this area dressed me in their traditional clothes, loaded me with jewelry, and gave me some makeup. they wish to trade. i can show you, do you want me to show you?”it’s so cold. it needs to eat her soon. it needs to find warmth.lhashkal gives her friend the once over again. maybe she’s telling the truth. it’s very like kulhah to wander off, traipse with another people for a day, then return in the middle of the night as if nothing happened. yet, something still seems off. kulhah was always cold, and always wore a coat; certainly not a rarity in this age, where even the sea froze, allowing their grandparents to make the trek over from meracydia. “did you trade your coat or something? you must be freezing.” she begins to remove her own coat, figuring they could make it back to the fire before she shivered. “your mother is going to be-”she stops, her hunter’s instinct finally kicking in. kulhah had no breath. as lhashkal breathed, the water in her breath froze in a cloud around her nose. whatever was speaking to her had no such cloud.“who - what are you?” her neurons fired. she started thinking in her head. it perfectly copied her friend’s appearance, with a few alterations. it wasn’t breathing. it spoke her language perfectly, despite them being recent immigrants to this continent. nothing in their legends seemed to match the description. it must be something from this continent. “identify yourself," she says, a formality at this point.

khampuu wastes no time with faking speech. she’s been caught. she sizes up her potential meal: lhashkal is strong, much stronger than kulhah was, but khampuu could defeat her. perhaps this would be a better body to possess. she could then feed on kulhah’s corpse instead.she is a beast. she acts on instinct. and she is cold.she rushes forward, easily gliding over the rough terrain. she needs to cause enough damage to knock out, but not kill lhashkal. her instincts tell her to possess this body, so she will. her prey is more nimble than she seemed at first blush, dodging behind the antelope’s corpse.the beast is sluggish in the cold, but still a force to be reckoned with. lhashkal dodges and dives around to the best of her ability, but she lacks a way to fight back, spending all of her energy and brainpower staying alive. she considers shouting, hoping some of her sisters would hear, but that would end up putting the whole family in danger. she has to rely on her own skills to survive.lhashkal dives into a gully, the beast soaring over her in pursuit. she has enough time now. she pulls out her knife, hoping to get at least a few swings in at her enemy.the beast turns tail, lunging at her once again. lhashkal rolls to the side, the beast face planting into the dirt. she aims her knife, picking a spot right under the shoulder blade.the blade snaps off, as if she had tried to stab a stone. a flurry of claws lacerate her face.lhashkal’s vision clouds with blood. she figures the beast will finish her off and consume her, but khampuu instincts better. letting her target bleed out more will allow for possession.lhashkal mutters a silent prayer to her moon goddess. after she prayed, she looked heavensward, groaned aloud, struck her breast, and wept. khampuu stands like a pillar and stares. khampuu is cold. and she senses another.“my lady! don’t worry, i shall save you!” a nomadic, lone male unknown to lhashkal barrels down into the ditch, brandishing a spear, putting himself between her and the beast. “i’ll take it from here! leave it to me, little lady!”she was expecting a great melee. instead, she felt something change about the air around her. the male collapsed instantly. soon, squelches. snaps. flaying of skin. gnashing of teeth.lhashkal could still barely see. she was thankful for this. she intuited what was happening based on the sound.she found a second wind. it must’ve been instinct, or a blessing from above, which delivered her back home safely.the beast is full. the beast is cold.