Cadence found herself walking through the familiar corridors of Mansion Orelik. She was back in her worn-out handmaiden dress. Cadence grabbed the fabric in surprise.

Is this real? She had never been so happy to see her stained overalls and the too-tight dress. Was everything just a bad dream?

She ran up the stairs into Khazaria's room and threw the door open.

Khazaria was lying on her bed with a book propped open in front of her. The winter light was muted against the great window panes. Cadence rubbed her eyes, then slowly opened them. She was scared that everything would be gone in a wink if she opened her eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to always knock?" Khazaria said crossly. "Now you've broken my reading mood."

"Apologies, my lady." Cadence hastily bowed. She found her movements clumsy, as though her body had forgotten how to bow.

"Why are you here?" Khazaria said. "You've been dismissed. Go do whatever you servants do in your spare time."

"I-" Cadence scrambled for words. "I needed to dust the wardrobe, my lady. Wintermites love making nests in places of rich silk and satin."

Khazaria grunted. "There are no mites. Now be off with you."

Her heart thudded in her chest. Khazaria was alive! She gripped the banister and stared at the maids and servants scuttling below, all busy with their daily schedule. Hope bloomed like a flower in her chest. If Khazaria was still alive, the mansion still intact, this meant her father was still alive. Sick, bedridden, but alive.

She flew down the stairs and went bump into someone.

"Sorry!" she apologized. "I should have watched where I was going!"

She looked up to see Ales staring at her with a nonplussed expression.

Cadence flung her arms around Ales' waist. He was too tall for her to reach his neck. She hugged him tight and buried her face in his chest. He still smelled like chocolates, nothing has changed.

"You're alive," she blubbered. She felt tears sting her eyes which she dried on Ales' kubah.

Oh, wait, if everything was just a dream, he wouldn't know her.

"What have you done, little mite?"

"I-" Cadence stared at her mentor. He remembered?

"What is dead, should stay dead." Ales placed a hand on Cadence's shoulder. "I learned that the hard way. There was no reviving Danika and Aria without severe consequences. An Aspect for a borrowed life, is it worth it?"

"You almost sold me to the Walker Hunters, you do not deserve to lecture me on what I did."

"Almost," Ales said. "But I didn't."

Cadence glared at him.

Her mentor sighed. "I wish I could tell you more, Cadence, but I am not allowed to. There are certain things that you cannot see yet, things that are bigger than what you assume it to be. When you bonded with Zoroth, you have ripped the piece of Kazimir inside you out of your Soul. He no longer has a hold over you."

"Does this mean he is gone?" Cadence asked. "The mansion is destroyed, the stronghold of Hunters is gone."

"That I cannot say. Kazimir will not return now, that is certain. However, he is the least of your worries now. You have ripped your Shell from your body. That action itself will destroy you slowly. You will lose the ability to walk, eat, sleep, and you will eventually die. Your brother might be alive, but he isn't fully alive. You have turned him into a monster, Cadence."

"No." Cadence pushed Ales' hand off her shoulders. "He's not a monster."

"Nothing that defies the natural law is normal. You should know. Why did you bring him back, Cadence? Why?"

"The same reason you wanted to bring your family back. I don't know how many Walkers you have sold to Taras, their blood are on your hands. You have no idea what they did to me in the dungeon, Ales. You have NO IDEA."

Her mentor hung his head, dark golden hair sliding over his eyes.

"When you released Kazimir, he was desperate for a vessel. He sent out Taras and his people to scout for Walkers, but the Great War had obliterated most of the Walkers in Moskava, even those in the other nations. Walkers were already very rare, and the war dwindled their numbers so much you could count them with fingers. Taras came up to me and offered me a chance to bring back my family, if only I gave him a chance to talk. I should have ended him on the spot, but I listened. He told me if I would send all the Walker recruits to him and hide it from the Kesatria, Kazimir would bring my family back from the dead. You're the first Walker to turn up. I didn't know you that well, but then slowly, as I trained you, I decided I couldn't do it. My wife and daughter have been dead for too long. Maybe they're both in Syurka, waiting for me. You're like a daughter to me, Cadence. When I learned what they were doing to the Walkers, I knew I had to protect you at all costs. I was never their soldier."

He brushed back a loose strand of Cadence's hair and let it run through his fingers.

"Look, Cadence. Look at what you've done."

Cadence stared at the lock of hair sliding from Ales' fingers. It was as white as snow, whiter than the snow-cap hills of Moskava when winter came down with vehement force.

Ales leaned forward and touched his forehead with Cadence's. "Goodbye, little mite."

He faded into mist. The doors around her dissolved into mist.

"Ales!" Cadence cried out, reaching out for him, but he was gone. "Ales!"

The ground cracked and crumbled, dropping her into the dark chasm below.

She opened her eyes.

Dust motes danced in front of her. She took in the familiar layout of the place—metal framed beds with neatly folded blankets and plumped pillows, the soft sigh of cotton curtains against the windows, the small metal pitchers of water on the bedside tables.

"Ah," Kashimi said. "She lives."

"Kashimi," she croaked. "You're alive?"

"Bless us, she thinks I'm a ghost! But yes, I'm alive, and very much so. All Mujarabs received news of an urgent gathering, which was a diversion for Taras to sneak in. When I came back, Ales was dead and you were gone..."

The Mujarab trailed off, sadness lacing his words.

"Ales was a good man," Kashimi said. "One of the best that ever lived. He had made some bad choices in his life, sure, but ultimately, he chose what he thought was right."

"You knew?"

"Ales was a close friend of mine. When he realized what the Hunters were doing, he sought for my advice. He was relentless, I give you that. He wanted me to protect you too, but I am not a person of brute force. So I hung back in the shadows, doing what I can to assist him. Your disappearance in the Hall of Games hasn't gone unnoticed, Cadence. I wrote letters to your Masters and Mistresses, telling them you were desperately ill, anything to buy you some time. I thought sending you to find Silverbird would throw you off their scent as their forces are amassed here, but then Taras sighted you at Mansion Khavarosk. He saw how protective Ales was of you, and he knew something was up. Imagine my relief when your brother brought you in, but you were so broken."

"Is he alright?" Cadence sat up. "Can I see him?"

"Your brother is fine. This brings us to another topic we need to discuss."

Kashimi produced a mirror from the bedside table and showed it to her.

"Look," he said.

Cadence looked. The person in the mirror stared back. Before she had been a painfully thin servant girl with brittle hair and a forced smile, then she was a glamorous noble lady in the most beautiful red dress there ever was, and now she was a broken girl with sunken eyes—eyes that revealed pain no one could imagine except herself. A long red scar was drawn from her forehead, down her eyes and it kissed her cheek, a curve just above the cheekbone. She was pale, paler than before. Her white hair hung past her shoulders and curled around her breasts. She looked like a ghost; maybe she was one.

"You have done something terrible, Cadence," Kashimi said. "No one should tamper with the dead and the living. Only Dewas have the power to determine who lives and who dies."

"If that's so, why did they give us such powers?"

"To test the human heart." Kashimi put down the mirror. "You're dying, Cadence. The effects might not happen all at once, but it is gradual. You might have decades, years, months, even days to live, who knows? The giving up of the Shell is not something to be taken lightly. You've signed a deal with Valador to die a slow, painful death."

"I know." She kneaded her fingers together—fingers that were once broken and healed, then broken again. She pulled her bandaged apart, revealing long silver lines running down her arms. Her body would never forget what happened.

"Don't remove your bandages." Kashimi reached out. For a second, Cadence saw the hardness of Taras' scarred face and his firm hands holding a scalpel over her eye, slashing a gash in her face. Cadence cowered and squeezed herself into a corner of the bed, trying her best to get out of Kashimi's way.

No, not again. Please.

She could feel the agonizing pain as each and every bone of her body snapped. Every time Ivan waved his hand, the pain would flare. Everywhere she looked, she saw Taras bent over her, holding a scalpel in his hand, a hideous grin tearing his face apart.

It is not real, little one. Zoroth' voice rang loud and clear in her mind. Taras is dead, he can harm you no more.

Zoroth? The Ancient's voice brought a sense of calmness over her. Her shivering stopped, but her limbs were still tense, still bracing herself for the possible pain.

No, it's the milkman. Cadence could feel him roll his eyes through the invisible bond that tethered them together. Do you remember what happened?

Yes. She remembered it very vividly—every detail, every movement, every smell. The moonlight was bright upon the blade that cleaved through her brother. Zoroth's blood was silver, even more so than the moonlight as it trickled onto the grass. Then there was power, so much raw power, it had given her a Yazelka.

For either the best or the worst, we're stuck with each other now, at least until I figure out how to get rid of you. Watch out, I'm coming in.

One second the windowsill was empty, and the next there was a half-dragon, half-human creature crouching upon it.

"The Ancient arrives," Kashimi said.

"I like this one." Zoroth climbed over the windowsill and reached Cadence's bed. "He doesn't scream like the many others who encountered me, and he knows his manners."

Cadence gave him a baleful glance.

"What?" He raised his hands. "It's true."

"This leads us to another thing that needs to be addressed," Kashimi said. "Your Yazelka cannot be seen in Varya grounds. Ancients haven't been seen in fifteen years. If they saw you, they'll shoot you dead before they'll ask questions."

Zoroth shuddered. "Been there, done that."

"You'll have to live outside the Region of Games," Kashimi addressed Zoroth. "I assume you can communicate with your Ascendant telepathically?"

"Unfortunately," Zoroth said, and Cadence shot him an annoyed look.

"You know your Yazelka has given up her Shell, I presume?"

"Again, unfortunately." The smile had slid off Zoroth's face. He rearranged his wings, a shadow falling over his features.

"You being her Yazelka, you'll be affected as well. As she slowly deteriorates, I suspect the same will happen to you. You two are bound to one another via all three Aspects. There is no running from that. You're now part Ancient, part human, and Cadence is now part human, part Ancient, that is the law of the bond. Whatever that affects you, will affect her. Break the bond, and the pain will be unimaginable.

"Is there any way of reversing what she did?" Zoroth asked.

"Unless you find someone who is willing to trade their Shell, then yes, but that's not within my grasp of knowledge to move a Shell from one individual to the next."

"The Silverbird witch-doctor, do you think he'll be able to?" Cadence asked.

"I do not know. Witch-doctors are strange beings. Speaking of Silverbird, Eliah has been worried sick about you, Cadence. He thought you bailed on him and came back here to find you."

"What?" Eli was dying, he should be at Silverbird's now and maybe, he would have recovered if he hadn't turned tails back to the Hall of Games.

"I think it is best if you told him about your condition on your own."

"But he is a Khavarosk..."

At the mention of the name Khavarosk, Zoroth growled.

"I shall kill him with my own hands-"

No. Cadence threw the words at Zoroth. You're not killing anybody. He's a friend.

Any friend of the Khavarosks is the enemy, he ground back.

He's not Raphine, she said.

Zoroth growled again but did not speak.

"You are aware that all Varya will transition to their respective Halls a year after they arrived at the Hall?" Kashimi said.

Cadence nodded.

"You will have to pretend to be an Oracle for the next four years. The Hall of Spirits will be your new home, but you will have to watch your every step, your every movement. I can pen a letter to Raphine Khavarosk and inform him of your situation, tell him you suffer from a muscle derogatory illness that'll worsen over time. In the meantime, you will have access to the Region of Spirits. Find this Silverbird and restore your Shell."

Cadence felt an 'if not' coming. She wasn't wrong.

"If not, you'll die, plain and simple."

"Does Cole know about this?" she asked. "The price of bringing him back?"

"No." The Mujarab shook his head. "Such things are not my right to say."

"Don't let him know," Cadence said. "Promise me."

She knew Cole would take drastic actions to restore her Shell if he knew what truly happened. Let him think it was not an exchange, but rather something all Walkers could do. If he found out about Silverbird, Cole would trade his Shell for hers, then what would be the point of her bringing him back only to lose him again?

"I swear," Kashimi said.

Are you sure it is a good idea? her inner voice said. Cadence had expected to hear Kazimir's drawl, but this voice was genuinely hers. You hid Papa's death from Cole, you hid your powers from your brother, and look where your lies have landed you.

Yes, she might have lied to Cole about her powers, but that was to protect her from Walker Hunters. Now with their stronghold destroyed and their leader ripped into pieces, she doubted they would make a comeback without taking years.

She had been wrong not to trust her brother. Cole would definitely keep a secret, especially when her life was involved. Her biggest mistake was not telling him what truly happened in the first place. However, this was different. Telling Cole about the mechanisms involved in reviving him would cause her to lose him, and Cadence would never let that happen. She would rather die.

"I can only help you in official affairs," Kashimi said. "For matters concerning the heart and mind, you'll have to brave them yourself."

The Mujarab reached for a bundle on the table and handed it to Cadence. "Your Yazelka saved these. Thought you might want them back."

Her cloak, her belt, her daggers, and her bracelets. Cadence was overwhelmed with joy as she tied the bracelets back onto her wrist. She thought she had lost them forever.

"I think you owe me a 'thank you' for saving your belongings and your life," Zoroth said. "I charged right into a crowd of Hunters armed to the teeth for you."

"Thank you." Cadence owed him that much. He deserved more than a simple 'thank you'.

She slid Bahtra from its sheath, watching the blade catch the sunlight. She touched the blade and felt a jolt of pain shoot through her fingers.

Cadence dropped them, shocked.

"What was that?"

"Celestium," Zoroth said quietly. "You are no longer immune to Celestium."

She stared in horror at her daggers. They were still beautiful as ever. Cadence reached out tentatively and touched the blade again. Her skin stung upon contact. If this was how her body reacted to Celestium, she could only imagine the pain if she was cut open by the metal of the divine.

"Welcome to my life." Her Yazelka stared at her blades in disgust.

"You will still be able to use Celestium,' said Kashimi. " As the handles are not Celestium, you can still wield them in battle, but what can be used to hurt Rakasha, can be used to hurt you. Your physical wounds would heal quickly, just like an Ancient, but Celestium-induced wounds are a whole other story."

Cadence returned the daggers into their sheaths. Emotions raged inside her, so much so she couldn't distinguish them.

"One last thing." Kashimi reached into the fold of his robe and brought out a red, signet ring. He handed it to Cadence.

"This was Ales'," Kashimi said. "It belonged to him, his father before him, and his ancestors. Since he has no offspring, I thought it would be most fitting to give this to you."

The ring sat squarely on her palm, the Sanrovo wolf carved on the big, fat ruby staring at her out of its two red eyes.

She dropped it into her pocket, just like how she had done to the obsidian bead Ales had given her months ago.

"I want to see my brother," she said. There were things she needed to set right, things she needed to tell her brother, truths she had hidden from him for far too long.

"I shall send for him," Kashimi said. "You need rest."

Cadence shook her head. She could rest later. This could not wait.

"Thank you for everything, Kashimi."

She swung her legs off the bed and reached for the door. Zoroth lingered back with Kashimi.

If you need me, little one, I'll be a thought away.

Thank you, Zoroth.

She flung the door open and strode through. It was time for her to face her fears.