"Alright," Banks said staring at the stand with large blank white pieces of paper laid out on an easel. Apparently whiteboards didn't exist yet and wouldn't for some time, and so this was the next best thing. According to the Psideri, whose name he had forgotten, it was a plotting easel. "By the way do you really have no Phoenix-style sweet cream ravioli?" he asked.

  "No, we are actually out of ravioli," the Psideri said, a look of frustration came over her face. "I know, I couldn't believe it either. A Maceronin restaurant without any ravioli. If Skimmer wasn't such a great chef I would have just flat out tore him apart for forgetting to reorder. Yes, this is our hangout, but this is an actual restaurant and if they're not going to take it seriously..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Banks scanning his body. "Can you even eat? You have a hole in your stomach."

  "Actually the hole is in my liver," Banks pointed out. "And yeah, I can still eat. I love Maceronin food. Haven't had it in ages. I hope the dishes that this restaurant serves can capture that authentic flavor."

  "I hope so," she said, favoring him with a rare grin. "Sometimes it feels like I'm the only person taking this restaurant seriously."

  "Don't say that boss," one of the gangsters, specifically the one that did that whole smoke thing, spoke up. "We believe in your restaurant. It's the best restaurant in the entire side of the city."

  "No it's the best in the entire city," another one said.

  "Entire Empire," a third quickly claimed, before more and more joined in. There was plenty of enthusiasm and they did an admirable job of disguising the sheer terror in their voice. Those were the peril of being under a boss that was far stronger than the rest of the gang combined. Paired with her complete indifference or even antipathy towards the lives of her subordinates it didn't paint a rosy picture for life in the Five Skies gang.

  "That's enough flattery," she said waving off the words. "Seriously, quiet with the flattery or I'm going to tear off your head." Her words were said without a speck of humor or falsity and the room immediately fell into uncomfortably dead quiet. "You can begin," she said as she sat down on the sex couch.

  "Alright, where do I begin," Banks mused to himself as he pulled out the pen that he had acquired. "At the beginning, right. Sorry I forgot. So bloodlines..." He wrote the word on the board in large block letters and then underlined it twice.

  "Your handwriting is awful," the Psideri said.

  "Well then pay attention to my words then," Banks shot back. "Alright so when people think of bloodlines they think of the Galade Empire. The ancient Empire has become almost synonymous with the word." A bunch of blank looks focused on him dissuaded him from him that this idea was common knowledge.

  "I know that," the Pisderi said, sitting on the chair, leaning forward with her arms crossed. "Just ignore them, they're stupid. Continue."

  "Okay then," Banks said as he drew the word Galade on the board. "The Galade Empire used a combination of Strange Elements and completely unethical blood magic to create bloodlines. However those artificially created bloodlines were not the first or last example of bloodlines. Naturally arising bloodlines devoid of blood magic or Strange Elements arise as a mutation very rarely, but it does happen." He doodled the word 'natural' next to 'Galade' and drew lines from the word bloodline to both.

  "Any examples of the latter," the Psideri spoke and he felt the pen yanked out of his hands before it hovered in front of the paper.

  "The Ancient Dragon bloodline, the Blacksteel bloodline, the Deeptide bloodline, and of course the Psideri," Banks said reading off a list and the pen wrote each name on the board in flowing decorative script.

  "Wait, I thought the dragon bloodline was from the Galade empire," one of those gangsters piped up before he fell over clutching his chest.

  "Good question," Banks said, as the man was released coughing and gasping for air. "The Ancient Dragon bloodline is a rare, but powerful bloodline originating from intelligent perverted dragons. The Neo Dragon bloodline is the Galade's recreation. It's weaker by far, but also far more reliable reproduction wise."

  "Interesting, do those natural bloodlines not make use of Strange Elements," the Psideri said. "Secondly, is there an elevated level of Strange Elements in those with those artificial bloodlines."

  "Excellent question," Banks admitted. "The answers are no and yes. As far as I'm aware the level of Strange Elements are no higher in those of natural bloodlines. The level is higher in artificial bloodlines, but nowhere near as high as even the weakest Stranger." As he was speaking abridged versions of his answers appeared on the board. "In a way artificial bloodlines created by the Galade Empire can be considered pseudo-Strangers."

  "So if the Ancient Dragon bloodline was caused by dragons committing crimes against nature were the Blacksteel and Deeptide bloodline created the same way?" the Psideri spoke up once more.

  "Blacksteel bloodline came about due to exposure to the lightning at the peak of Blacksteel mountain. The Deeptide bloodline was as a result of generations of exposure to the Sea Swallowing Leviathan. As long as the gene___blood is influenced to a certain degree and it can be argued to be beneficial then it is classified as a bloodline. Now Psideri are a bit different."

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  "How are they diff_" a man piped up only for his mouth to be sealed shut.

  "He's going to explain now," the Psideri stated.

  "I am," Banks agreed. "In the center of the Raldian dessert, where sands glow vivid green there lies a ship in the middle of a valley. This ship is not like any other ship you've ever seen. While ships as you know travel along the sea, this ship travels between the stars above." He made a grand gesture towards the ceiling above. "And on this ship, full of corpses, very much in the shape of man, with one crucial difference." He held up a four fingered hand. The pen clattered to the floor.

  "Is this true?" the Psideri asked, her eyes locked with Bank's own in a display of emotion that seemed equal parts amazement, wonder, disbelief, and something he couldn't quite identify. "My ancestors came from the stars? But corpses, you said everybody on that ship is dead? I need to go see this myself."

  "You can't for one very important reason," Banks said. "The area surrounding the ship has the single highest concentration of Strange Elements on this planet. A normal human would die in seconds. You in even less time." Normally Strange Elements were only found within the bodies of Strangers so for there to be any at all in the environment was very unusual.

  "Then how did you get thr__" she said before the answer came to her. "Oh, because you___" she started.

  "Because I'm a Stranger," Banks cut her off. "Whatever the nature of those visitors were, two things are quite clear. One is that their blood eventually led to the Psideri, whether they bred with humans directly or did their own version of what the Galade Empire ultimately would do and two, like yourself, they have ultimately no defense towards Strange Elements."

  "How unlucky that they crashed into the one spot rife with Strange Elements," a gang member said sympathetically causing both Banks and the Psideri to give matching looks before Banks coughed into his hand.

  "Do you want to take this?" he asked.

  "Kay," the Psideri said slowly, using a tone which he interpreted as her speaking to idiots voice. "Don't you think a lot of people get murdered inside crime zones. Surely it's so hazardous that they should ban the guard's from designating crime zones and it should cut down the murder rate."

  "No, but they only designate crime zones when a lot of those murders already have happened," the man answered with a confused

  "I'm going to have discuss cause and effect with you a bit later," the Psideri said. "Let me run through it for the slow people here. A long time ago."

  "About eighty thousand years ago," Banks interrupted.

  "Wow okay, eighty thousand years ago a ship crashed down from the sky," the Psideri said. "The ship was piloted by my ancestors or the creators of my ancestors, as well as a huge amount of Strange Elements."

  "All the Strange Elements," Banks corrected. "The appearance of Strange Elements only arose after that date."

  "You really are just blowing my mind today," the Psideri said. "Wait are these aliens the source of all psychic abilities as well?'

  "Practically," Banks admitted. "There's about eight other species that have psychic abilities and are not directly related to these aliens that I know of. Five of those are extinct, two live in the ocean and the purple Snouted Ganflacker lives in barren territory up north. Notably six of those have weaker psychic abilities than the Psideri."

  "So before that crash there were neither Strange Elements or psychic energy," the Psideri said. "You just blew my mind a little. How old is mana, do you know?"

  "As old as life itself," Banks stated. "The Primordial Slime was already chock full of mana."

  "Fascinating," she said. "I wonder what the aliens were doing with all those Strange Elements. Do the aliens have a name?"

  "The Psidorn," Banks said. "Obviously we don't know what they called themselves. We know very little about them due for easily apparent reasons."

  "Due to the dangerous conditions around the archaeological sight and the lack of correlating sources," the Psideri said.

  "Precisely," Banks said. "It's nice dealing with knowledgeable people."

  "I would like to visit one day," the Psideri said. "To see where it began."

  "Even if you somehow managed to get a suit to repel the Strange Elements you would not be able to use your psychic powers in that location. Both the air and ground have a concentration only slightly weaker than the of a body of your average Stranger."

  "Still I would like to go, or at least commission somebody to explore on my behalf," she said, before eyeing the members of her gang. "None of you, I want somebody competent."

  "Thanks, boss," an underling spoke up before a nearby gangster grabbed his mouth as the Psideri gave a death glare to the two.

  "Do you have a precise location?" she asked.

  "Do you even have a map of the Raldian desert," Banks said, before a thought hit him. "Wait, a minute, never mind." He debated sending his memories back in time to when he was in the map shop and picking up a desert map along the way, but it was too much effort to refight the whole fight again. "It's in the Northwest of the desert, next to one of the big oasis towns. Can you fly?"

  "I can," the Psideri said hovering from her chair, so as to show proof. "You are going to suggest I fly around the various oasis towns looking for a place that my psychic senses cannot penetrate are you not?"

  "Bingo," Banks said.

  "It's an adequate plan," she said. "When things calm down here, I'll give the desert a sweep. Now as for your initial question regarding Ascrew..."

  "You know where he is?" Banks asked.

  "He's hanging out with a rival gang," she admitted. "The Salt Screamers, a bunch of smugglers and drug peddlers. They do have some skills admittedly so, which is why I got a little worried when I heard reports of a famed assassin hanging out in their home base. I was planning countermeasures in case he decided that my head didn't quite sit right on my neck."

  "How much of your strength did you employ in our fight?" Banks asked.

  "About 30 percent," the Psideri admitted candidly.

  "Then none of your countermeasures would work," Banks stated, trying unsuccessfully to ascertain whether the Psideri was lying or not. "Ascrew can act like a bit of a clown, but his strength is real. There are very few people who could survive against him." Up until a few days ago, Banks would have put the Undying Emperor on that short list, but recent events seem to have proved him wrong. "Do you know where the Salt Screamers base is?"

  "That way," the Psideri said pointing firmly in a direction. "Go as the crow flies and you will find a large squat wooden building, shaped like a dome. They tend to congregate like drunken rats in that building."

  "Much appreciated," Banks said.

  "Likewise," the Psideri said. "Look this is something that I don't normally do, but I've been trying to extract your name from your brain since you've arrived to no avail. All I've gotten so far is it begins with an R. So I'm going to do this the normal way okay. My name is Victory, the Head of the Five Skies Gang."

  "My name is Banks, a mere traveler," Banks said, a look of grudging doubt on the face of the Psideri victory was the last thing that he saw before he clapped his hands and disappeared from the room.