2115 A Frail Alliance (Part 3)
"If the Abominations fight in the open for the Kingdom, the Royals would no longer have plausible deniability and their alliance with some of the most wanted mass murderers would become public knowledge.
"At that point, the households who hold a grudge against an Eldritch would either flock to Thrud's side or withdraw their support to the Crown. We can afford neither." Xenagrosh said.
"The worst thing is that the other hybrids aren't having better luck." Kigan sighed. "Secrecy has always been the undead's strong suit and after being screwed up by us first and then by Meln, they've upped their game.
"On top of that, this time we cannot follow the money to discover the location of the secret base because there is no money involved. In other words, we are boned."
"We cannot afford to stay here for more than another few days." Xenagrosh paced around the room. "With all hands on the battlefield, the Organization has been forced to suspend its operations throughout Garlen.
"Without us, the black market can't operate. No black market means no money for Dad's experiments and no funds to keep this damn war going."
She sat on the luxurious king-sized canopy bed that had remained untouched since the day of their arrival, holding her head in frustration.
"Gods, I wish Bytra was here. She would have loved this place, the parties, and even though we would still be in the same predicament, at least she would have made my stay in Xaanth feel like a vacation."
"Me too." Kigan replied, making Xenagrosh's eyes go wide in surprise. "She and that kid Theseus are the best of us. I'll never thank you enough for bringing them into our fold. When I'm with them, I can almost forget about who I am and what I did."
Becoming a hybrid meant losing the hunger that plagued all kinds of Abominations. It gave them relief, but it also made it harder for them to live with the burden of their past.
Centuries of slaughter had desensitized them and their consciences, if any was left, were a whisper in the wind.
All ancient Abominations would forget about someone who they had killed just a few minutes after the murder, and the only reason they remembered some of their victims was due to the precious equipment the Eldritches had stolen from them.
Yet none of the hybrids could forgive themselves or forget about their first murder spree. The one happened after turning into an Abomination, back when they still had a conscience and someone they cared about.
Be they family or friends, they would become the first victims of a newborn Abomination, leaving a mental scar that only the hunger could repress. In Kigan's case, it was even worse.
He was one of Salaark's Firstborn and his cored had shattered while training to become a member of the Nest. It was the reason even Eldritches despised him. Yet no one hated Kigan more than Kigan himself.
An awkward silence befell between the two hybrids who aside from work had nothing to say to each other. The problem was that their hunt for the night was over and there were still a few hours before sunrise.
Due to the curfew, there was no thrall around that they could follow.
Breaking martial law meant days of imprisonment and interrogation. The members of the Undead Courts wouldn't risk drawing so much attention unless there was an emergency, but such convenient timing only happened in bards' tales.
The gazes of both hybrids went blank, lost in their respective thoughts.
Zoreth listed all the things that she still wanted to do and the places she wanted to go with her wife while Kigan couldn't stop seeing the final moments of his brother and all those who had tried to help him after the transformation.
Young and old Phoenixes had died by the hand of a weak infant Abomination because they had been more worried about him than about themselves. It had been a huge mistake and also their last.
Hearing the echoes of the death throes of the children who had called him uncle, reliving the savage joy he had felt while taking their lives, made black tears stream from his eyes.
When their Council amulets drew their attention, Kigan snapped out of his reverie first and wiped his tears before Xenagrosh could notice them. Contrary to their expectations, it wasn't the Master nor the Council.
The Empress herself was calling them.
"Are you still in your suite?" Milea had no love for Abominations.
After becoming the ruler of the Empire, she had killed dozens of them and had almost been killed in the process more than once. She tolerated the hybrids in the Council and on her turf because she considered them a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless.
"Yes. Why?" Kigan asked and the Empress hung up the call in reply. "That's one rude piece of wo-"
A Spirit Step appeared in the middle of the room, bypassing the multiple layers of protection and without triggering any of the several alarms that the hybrids had set.
Kigan's and Xenagrosh's eyes met and for once there was a mutual understanding.
Even in their hybrid form, they were still Abominations with no connection with the world energy and no access to Life Vision. Without it, they could be blindsided by a simple dimensional spell.
They gritted their teeth in annoyance, knowing that the Magic Empress was not only showing them her superiority, but also putting to the test their defenses by coming unannounced.
The Eldritches were too old and wise to be sore losers. It took them but a second to admit defeat and learn from it. Xenagrosh used her Dragon Eyes to study Milea's spell and understand the flaws in their arrays that the Empress had exploited.
Kigan, instead, neared his hand to the Steps and absorbed part of its energy. The Spirit Magic became one with his mana flow, allowing him to quasi-Awaken his cores. It caused him a pain as great as his gains.
For a moment, Kigan was capable of using Life Vision with his Balor eyes, seeing Mogar like only Glemos' Fomors could. There was so much power in him and so much untapped potential that for a moment the Guardians seemed small to him.
His twin cores spasmed in agony, both unable to circulate the foreign power except when they partially overlapped. His life forces squirmed as well, trying and failing to adapt to the energy flow that the quasi-Awakening created.
Yet amid the agony, the Phoenix-Balor caught a glimpse of how and where he needed to perform the next modifications in his body.
If Xenagrosh's eyes could talk, they would have scolded Kigan for the madness of his gesture. Were him to circulate too much Spirit Magic or lose control of the spasms, he would have died like any member of the Fallen races when they tried to Awaken.
If Kigan's eyes could reply, they would have told Xenagrosh to mind her own business. A stable source of Spirit Magic was too rare an opportunity to not exploit it. Vastor's was tainted by Chaos from his Eldritch half, making it deadly and unsuitable for any experiment.
