Legatus's office wasn't the smallest kind. More like large living room than an office. But the vast 'desk' with chairs around it occupied half the space. I was sweaty all over.

  *How long have we talked before Pythia came?*

  My bony ass ached on the chair despite its soft padding. Bones dug into the cushion, thudding against the wood beneath. I had to keep shifting just to endure it.

  *Too long! What took her so long?*

  I let out an uncontrollable sigh of relief. Evadne's face didn't show anything but reserved politeness.

  *Finally, she's here. Now I won't be with this bear alone in the room.*

  Well, Evadne was with me, but she didn't say a word, leaving the "small talk" for me. At least she didn't object and summoned Pythia.

  *I guess from her perspective, that's generous enough, and now I "owe her."*

  My Guide remained quiet all that time too. "Althea, nothing to say?" I whispered in my mother tongue.

  "You dummy, you told me to be silent, and I have to obey." Seal warmed up and gave a series of quicker pulses before finding its usual, steady rhythm.

  *Hm... is it me or she's mildly irritated? The limits of her obedience are something I'll need to explore later.*

  I glanced at Pythia. She was the picture of confidence—straight back, studied politeness, and eyes locked with the Legatus. This was no priest's study. Instead of tea aroma there was strange scent of burnt rust, yet air was chilly.

  The Legatus was the first to break the silence.

  "Highest Priestess, how fortunate," he glanced at me—my eyes widened, "that you're here."

  "The Otherworlder came to visit," he paused just slightly, almost naturally, "me."

  Pythia walked around the massive, dark-wood desk—a piece of furniture built more like a fortress wall—and sat on the Legatus's chair.

  It was a high-backed seat. Slightly bigger and comfier than the rest.

  She claimed the spot as if it was hers, saying: "Thank you for your hospitality, Legatus. Let's get down to business."

  Argus' jaw clenched. He stood like a tower above Pythia. His shadow falling across the now-blank magical map on his desk.

  He breathed deeply through his nose, relaxed his expression, and sat in one of the simpler, functional chairs beside her.

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  Like a guest at his own table.

  "Naturally, Highest Priestess, make yourself comfortable," he said almost politely.

  *Before these two "get down to business," I have to set the agenda.*

  I glanced between the two opposite forces.

  Pythia, who now commanded the room from behind the enchanted desk.

  Argus, who looked like a coiled spring of muscle.

  The only decorations on the severe, grey stone walls were empty weapon racks and war banners.

  I took a breath. "I came here to ask the Legatus a favor."

  They both stared at me. They looked like lions at a mouse daring to interrupt their brawl, but I pushed through.

  "Pylades promised to help me get stronger, but he needs the Legatus' approval."

  Silence.

  Argus smirked at Pythia.

  Pythia quickly added, "And the Legatus needs my approval."

  Argus' smirk died.

  He leaned forward, his massive hands resting on the table. The chair gave a warning creak. "Otherworlder, the Temple has means to treat you," he said, stating the obvious.

  He waited, but Pythia said nothing, so he continued, "and we have ways to make the most of it."

  I pumped my fist under the table. *Yes, this is it.*

  "But," he started again, his gaze hardening, "even though I like your spirit, Otherworlder, your body is... a ruin."

  Pythia's glare landed on the Legatus. "Temple uses all its resources to fully recover his vessel. Watch your words, Legatus."

  "Forgive this humble servant of Pandora," Argus said.

  *Humble my ass.*

  He looked at the wall banners, each one carried the insignia of a Holy Knight Order. "But this is actually an opportunity."

  Pythia's eyebrows narrowed, giving her a more predatory look.

  "His recovery will take months, a year even," the Legatus held her gaze and continued.

  *No, a year even? I don't have that much time.*

  Teeth ached when I clenched my jaw.

  *How old would my daughter be by then?*

  *Five?*

  *Ten?*

  *I'm not even sure how old she is!*

  My thoughts raced frantically, along with my heart.

  "He is a blank state," the Legatus' words made Pythia say a single "Argus" through her teeth, which felt more like a warning. But he ignored her and continued, "we can try the Ascension ther-"

  Evadne gasped, covering her mouth—Pythia stood up rapidly, slamming her open hand on the desk.

  Her shout interrupting him mid-word.

  "You're overstepping your authority! You dare speak of that witchcraft? Here? It is forbidden!"

  But the Legatus' massive fist landed on the desk right after. His face twisted in anger when he shot to his feet. "Do you know the weight, Pythia?" he began to shout.

  "Of sending letters to the families of the fallen?" He turned away, meeting Pythia's silence with a whisper, "Of the very people you have sent to death?"

  Legatus stood with his back to us, shoulders low, arms like two lumps. His face reflected in the window, but without details.

  *That was intense.*

  Pythia stood also and reached out to him. He didn't shake off her hand. She said calmly turning him back to us. "Argus, we all have a weight to carry, I didn't mean to..."

  "I know Pythia," he cut her off. Quietly. "But ascension is necessary." He said with determination.

  "Wait, hold on." I looked between their faces. "What's this 'therapy'? What's the 'Ascension'?"

  Argus broke off from Pythia looking ready to sell me on it. His eyes bright with a sudden fanaticism.

  Yet, Pythia spoke first like reading a sentence. "Three casualties, Leonard."

  The Legatus froze, his mouth half-open.

  "I will tell you the truth," Pythia continued, her eyes locked on mine, ignoring the fuming general. "We have tried this protocol three times."

  She paused.

  The room was dead silent. Evadne beside me sat like a mouse avoiding a predator.

  "One dead, his body dissolved." I held a breath instinctively.

  "One lost his mind, trapped in a permanent, waking nightmare." My heart hammered against my rib cage.

  "And one..." Her eyes fell on the brown carpet on the floor. I swallowed audibly.

  "Well, one is in the deep cells, beyond our capacity to heal, or to kill."