Nestled deep within the Loftarasa mountain range, the town of Mandala carried the chill of the early-spring season a bit more starkly than adjoining locations, given its elevation and, accordingly, exposure to the wind. Despite this, the town was as active as it had always been, and the brisk weather didn't deter one such as Jillian at all, either. Known for its inn with a hot spring-adjacent bath and a master smith who had a penchant for bringing out the absolute best in his weapons and armor, it was a secluded spot that was famous enough to those who knew what little secrets it kept, and the Temple of Prophecy loomed over the west end's precipice, connected by an adjoining suspension bridge between two separated cliffs.

Jillian was here for none of those things, however, and while she wasn't surprised that her reason for being here was not immediately visible, the small frown on her face implied that she'd hoped there wouldn't need to be a lot of searching involved, especially for what could have been at stake. She'd been glad that Haut hadn't asked her any details of her trip, and while she had professed that she would make it as quick of a "there and back" situation as possible, the truth was that she had no idea what to expect, and, in the absolute worst of cases, she may run into... difficulties. But she could handle herself, and Haut knew this.

Jillian let out a long breath, the puff of which formed a brief cloud in the air directly in front of her before evaporating. There was always something, it seemed.

A familiar black-and-silver mana spirit hovered nearby at her side, apparently scanning the region in the same way that she was, its large silver eye occasionally expanding or contracting in accordance with whatever details it is or isn't picking up. It offers no physical or visual indication of anything outside the norm, apparently acting as the silent sidekick more than anything else.

A stiff breezes ruffles Jillian's sweater, causing it to flap loosely about her stomach as she reaches up to keep the hair from going in her eyes with a continued frown of apprehension. "I don't know if she's hiding intentionally or not, since I can't detect Mana Signatures or magical outputs anymore," Jillian said, slightly vexed. "This is where the others last said they sensed her, right?"

The Shade is lacking in any sort of a response, right away, still scanning the area in the way it had been. Eventually, though, it looks up toward her and just kind of... stares. Which is what it usually is doing, but...

Jillian sighs. "Gee, thanks," she says, not at all thankful.

There is a rustle of sound just off to the side, with somewhat unhappy undertones. Thankfully the source is quickly reveled, as a mottled brown and green Matango comes huffing through the foliage.

"Ah dun care wat Sealan tolcha, dat ole coot knows betta than ta request dese herbs atta short notice!"

There is a somewhat offended-sounding hoot or three, from a small owl perched on the head of the war-hammer being used as a walking stick by the Matango.

"You watch yer tone wif me Athena, or I'll send'cha to stay up north again!"

Caught up in his conversation as he was, it seems the Matango does not immediately notice Jillian or the accompanying Shade, although it seemed likely to happen shortly.

Though her head doesn't turn, Jillian's vertical emerald eyes shift in their sockets toward the sound of the new voice(s), and the Shade floats on up to quasi-perch atop her head to provide a better lookout, accordingly. She could only assume it was a resident, and Matangui weren't too uncommon this far north, either. Still, if they'd been out and about before she arrived, maybe they could help her out. It couldn't hurt to ask.

BUT... since she doesn't exactly have a name to work with, and calling people "Hey, old codger" was likely to be met with scorn, she instead took an approach more familiar to her. She inclines her head slightly, and through some unheard exchange, the Shade on her head nods and removes itself, flit-flitting its merry mana way over to the mushroom-fellow and making its presence known, instead, by literally getting right up in its face and bouncing around a little bit.

Mana spirits were such wonderful creatures, even if used for the wrong reasons.

In doing so, Jillian approached at a slow pace, as if with the impression of 'following a pet that got away from her'.

The attention of Menmenth is successfully acquired, even midway through his argument. "Mayhap I'll cola one o' yer tailfethers blue, hows ab---beggin' yer pardon there mate, wut?" His amber eyes blink rapidly a few times and confusion is etched on his face before a rustling hoot from the owl leads to raised eyebrows(if you can call them eyebrows?), and a raised head.

Jillian was looked over briefly before the matango collected himself enough to speak again. "Sorry ya two had to 'ear dat, ai got caught up in our conversation. Be ye with the 'ttle Shade 'ere, miss?" His free hand gestures ever so slightly towards the spirit, as if to dispel any uncertainty as to whom the 'shade' was in the first place.

Mero half-turns in there air to raise his eyeball toward Jillian, as if confirming, for himself, that he did belong to her.

Jillian raises a hand to one side of her mouth, partially concealing a smirk. "Worry not," she said, "I'm sure I have heard much worse. And you are correct, we are together. A partner of mine, as it were." Jillian holds out her hand collectively, and the Shade floats on over to her outstretched palm where the retracts her arm. "Do you have a name, friend?"

Her vertical irises flick toward the owl for the briefest of moments, then back at Menmenth.

"Well now, can't say ai've met one who can easily speak ta the Shades and their like." The warhammer, grasped as it was by the long-as-he-was-tall shaft just below the hammer, is gently twisted towards himself as he executes the smallest of bows. The owl atop the hammerhead manages to stay put, looking an equal mix of offended and serene.

"Ah be called Menmenth, jus some ole druid wat wanders 'round Guardia. Dis 'ere is Athena, an ole friend whomst ai ain't scared away 'et." A hoot of what was probably pride is offered, eliciting a chuckle from Menny. "But 'nuff bout us, wat brings a spirit-blesst one out 'ere?"

Jillian beams a genuine smile between the two of them, with a small trace of amusement. The shade in her palm rounds its way up the length of her arm and hover-perches over her left shoulder, where it typically is found in 99% of cases. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, then, Menmenth. I've not much knowledge of the druidic arts or their lore, so if I speak outside certain boundaries, I'll beg preliminary forgiveness."

She tucks a stray bit of ivory hair behind one slightly-pointed ear. "As it were, I'm looking for someone. I've known her for a... very long time, actually, but she comes and goes every hundred years or so." She pauses in brief consideration, then continues. "She's returned a bit early, and concern for her well-being has drawn me here, as I've been told she arrived here recently. I don't suppose you've seen anyone that stands out a bit beyond the norm, within the last day or two, have you?"

Suddenly, and seemingly from out of nowhere, the shade's eye gets really big as if it just come upon some sort of realization, and it gives Jillian a startled sort of glance along with a couple of half-bounces in the air, before abruptly bursting into nothingness in a small shower of purple sparkles.

Jillian looks surprised, at first, but then shrugs and doesn't think much more of it.

The mushroom turns his gaze over towards his owl companion, who blinks slowly before turning her head upside down in typical owlish fashion, and utters a single low hoot. Menmenth nods and turns back towards Jillian just in time to see the Shade vanish in its shower. He seems slightly taken back, but at Jillian's shrug he clears his throat.

"As et turns out, ah mayhap 'ave. 'eard from a deku a bit agos 'bout someone wat seemed ta land on their 'ouse. Thought dey were ded, 'till dey 'olled 'em away 'n dey woke up. Dress 'll in blue, tall asa tree 'e said dey were." His face was a study in studying, clearly gauging the reactions his words(if you dared called them that) had to Jillian. "Ai've nawt been 'ack in town long, sos ai'm nawt too sures if dey've lefts recently, but from wat ai've herd dey made der way 'ere in one piece, leastways the birds has it."

Jillian's pleasant demeanor diminishes a bit at hearing a description such as this, which is replaced by equal parts confusion and concern. "'Landed on their house'?" she repeats, uncertainly. "As in she fell from the sky?" She already knew the woman was here, that much had been made clear, but she didn't know of the pretense behind that arrival. It sounded like she had... re-arrived?... in much the same way that a lot of folks ended up here. How in the world did that work?

A chuckle is heard as the matango drops his head for a moment before raising his face again.
"Et's ard to say, wot wif poor Denki havin been insides at da time. 'parently made nough noise dey thought a tree'd collapsed somhow."
Here he paused, as if considering something, before continuing. "Said dey popped up 'aster den a Lullabud. Saids der name was...Efrim? 'omthin like dat, ole Denki wassnt quite sures. 'ggested dey gets ta movin on accounts o' all da Trapflowers thereabouts, hadn't seen er since."

Here Menmenth shrugs. "Ai've gotten some callouts frum others in da area, but no other convasations, as tit twere."

Jillian's confusion is difficult to mask, and it is clearly obvious that some manner of thought processes are bubbling around inside that noodle of hers. "Well, I am at least glad no lasting harm or damage was done," she eventually says. "The crawlers and other mountain-dwellers can be antagonistic when they want to be, at times, and it is probably hard enough dealing with them, on top of random people falling on your domiciles." Jillian glances off to one side, in the direction of a few other houses and buildings nearby. "I may have to simply do some searching. Very likely that she's around here somewhere, and if my partner hadn't just disappeared, I'd have probably been able to ask him where she'd gone." She turns back, and gives the most courteous of half-bows. "I appreciate the insight, friend. Please be safe, it can be a dangerous world out there, at times."

A smirk flashes across the mushroom's face. "Aye, dat it can be. May da forest watch over ya, and if'n it doesn't for da next few days, give a shout. Ai'll be in da area a whiles yet." He bows again before turning towards the foliage again, meandering his way through the underbrush with his owl friend doggedly keeping their perch upon his hammer.

Just as they both vanish from sight, Athena's head turns all the way around to look at Jillian and gives a stereotypical one-two owl blink before the pair disappear from sight.

Jillian waits a few moments after the druid departs, and gives a small sigh, trying to figure out how to go about this now that her tracker was gone. "Funny that I thought I'd given up my traveling after the Fortress was gone," she mused, to nobody in particular. "Oh well."

It isn't a really long period of time, really, before a sudden shower of purple sparkles marks Mero's return, giving a long and slow blink with its silver eye as it focuses on Jillian, and kind of flaps both wings encompassingly at her in some sort of unspoken gesture.

Jillian blinks at the sudden re-arrival and tilts her head slightly, and half-smirks in response. "Of course," she said. "I'm not gonna pretend to know what's going on out there in mana spirit land, but you can't hang out with me all the time. I'm still looking, though, but since you're back, I could probably use a hand."

Mero gives a side-eye at a larger building not too far beyond the eastern entrance of Mandala, then back at Jillian, floating back on up to her shoulder and waving one of his wingtips, before giving a whole-body 'nod'

Jillian turns her attention toward the indicated building, a brief wind blowing her hair about as she takes it in. "In there?" she asks. "Why would she be staying at an inn? You know who I'm looking for, right?" Her tone grows a little suspicious. "Or is there a misinterpretation of the person I was led to believe is here?"

The shade lifts off her shoulder and flutters about in the air with a small amount of spazziness, insistently gesturing toward the aforementioned building and lowering the lid on its large eye, as if offended at not being taken seriously; that was all shades were, most of the time!

She looks surprised for a moment, and then a smirk creeps onto her face. "Oh... of course," she says. "That makes more sense. I guess she hasn't changed all that much in the length of time I've known her. She always had a fondness for hot springs, so I'm not at all surprised, I guess." She offers a very short bow, almost more of a deep nod. "I apologize, I should know better. Your insight is always appreciated, you know that, right?"

Mero kind of rolls his eye, but floats his way back on up to Jillian's shoulder and re-situates himself there, as per the usual.

Jillian pads her way across the way toward the indicated building, occasionally looking up at a couple of passersby along the way who seemingly had more important things to do than worry about a tall, pale woman with a mana spirit sticking close by, and sometimes that was okay with her. She didn't dislike the attention, but sometimes it got a little obnoxious, and was part of the reason she didn't hate the lack of traveling she'd done since settling down with Haut.

She pushes lightly on the door to the building, and allows herself inside with a light foot-push to close the door behind her. She isn't in there but for a few seconds when she realizes something, a bit of color showing up on her otherwise-pale face out of embarrassment at said realization. "... ugh," she grumbles. "It's been a long time since I was here, I forgot that the one offering the key is elsewhere." The annoyance factor settled in quick; who ran a business like that, anyway? It felt like a whole lot of unnecessary extra steps.

She sighed, and turned around to open the door again. "I'll never fucking understand mortal architecture," she allows herself a moment of aggression, while there's nobody else around to hear otherwise. "'Convoluted' doesn't necessarily mean 'better'."

A steady thump of something heavily hitting paving stones preceded a slim, tall woman striding purposefully down from the heights where the Mandala Temple lay. The thump appeared to be the long, oaken staff firmly clenched in one hand, whilest her dark skirts billowed out from the pace she set. Incongrously, on her shoulder, little paws clenching the leather jacket rode a small orange rodent of some kind, which she adressed as she walked.

'Empty Night, another dead end with more questions then answers. Yes, fascinating and I'll want to look into things, but none of it is relevant!' her grip on the staff tightened further in clear vexation. 'Must every-.' Hissing sharply as if she had suddenly sensed something, the dark haired woman gaze turned as if drawn by a lodestone at white-haired one, a sudden roiling haze of darkness shrouding her for a moment, before she hissed hatefully. 'Demon..'

Just as suddenly however she frowned, relaxing her grip on the staff slightly, seeming still wary but decidedly less so. 'Yet..not Tanar'ri..forgive me, I mistook you for something rather..unpleasant for a moment there.' The words were there, placating and seemingly meant to be explanatory, but they seemed somewhat perfunctory, as if she merely knew she was meant to apologise and did not really see the point but performed them anyway.

Jillian has only just retreated from the locked onsen exterior when she looks up at the sound of being addressed, confusion evident for the first few seconds. A response of some kind seems like the logical course of action, but the suddenness of this doesn't really give her a chance to formulate anything sophisticated, so the first thing that comes to mind just falls out of her mouth, instead. "...What?"

The shade on Jillian's shoulder glances at the new arrival, its large eye expanding slightly as it assesses the situation on its own terms, but makes no move from its own 'perch'.

Considering the Shadow spirit, the woman frowned thoughtfully, for a moment tempted to try and commune with it. 'Hmm, definetly not Shade..yet a lesser Shadow Elemental...yet again also sentient, how peculiar. Ugh, focus..' Shaking her head, the dark haired woman adressed the obvious demon. 'I overreacted for a moment, thinking you were something else, I apologised. Mother has always been quite firm, none of us can help what we are born as, yet some things are simply not to be born. Yet you are not what I thought you were.'

"Ah... okay, I think I get it." Jillian's attempts to reaffirm a more cosmopolitan mindset still weren't there yet, and she ended up simply going back to her normal self, for the sake of not worrying about putting on airs so much. "I get that a lot, actually. Some people just really don't vibe well with the whole 'pale skin and horns' ensemble. It's understandable, no offense taken." She glances past this new person, toward the shop across the way that had the key she needed, but then decides to not be rude about it and returns her green-eyed gaze to the present. "And you are..?"

Blinking her own dark, crimson brown eyes, the woman nodded. 'Ah yes, introductions, Aelys deMalfue. ' Reaching into a pouch at her belt, she retrieved a small card which along with the name bore the odd message 'Wizard for Hire, Divinations, Enchanting, Flesh Crafting and other sundry services. No Parties.' along with an adress placed fairly close-by on near Mt Nibelheim. 'As to the horns, most of mine own siblings have them, I merely mistook you for something more...troublesome.'

"Most people do," she responds. "Including something somewhat recently, no less." She smirks. "The word 'succubus' falls out of your mouth, and some people just go right to pieces without me even having to put them that way, myself. Jillian Mire, as it pleases you." She places one hand on her stomach, offering a short and brief bow. "I'm from out of town, here to see a friend of mine. Long-term acquaintance, been awhile, that sort of thing."

'Hmm, and have you located them, I am a fair hand at Divinations if not.' Granted, without specific components, finding any specific person would be hard, but the white haired demon, Jillian, she re-affirmed to herself now having a Name atleast, seemed to know whomst she was looking for, suggesting it would be a simple enough task to establish a suitable link if necisary.

Jillian doesn't really have any pockets on her at the moment, and proceeds to use the best secret compartment available to one such as herself, accepting the card and sliding it down the front of her sweater. "I have," she says agreeably, resituating her collar. "She has a fondness for hot springs, but I'd forgotten that it requires a key. This town has a strange way of doing things, honestly. I was on my way to acquire one from the shopkeep, but haven't yet had the chance."

Far too used to such antics from her relatives, she barely blinks at where the card was stored. Tapping her chin with her now freed hand, and considering the locked door for a moment, the mostly-immoral Wizard shrugged. 'I also have a spell for opening most conventional locks, though its typically frowned upon to cast it I understand on more private residences. Never saw the point to that personally, if you dont want a Wizard to open your locks, you install Wards too. '

The woman smirks. "I'd considered that," Jillian says. "It would save time, frustration, and maybe a couple pieces of gold, but I've moved on past those ways. Attempting to live a normal life means living by the standards presented to you, including the rules that tie civilization together. If the owners want to charge for the use of their onsen, I have no qualms with paying. But I appreciate such consideration on the grounds in which you are offering.

Jillian thinks for a moment, catching herself. "Okay, that's a lie," she admits. "Some of it. I've mostly moved on past those ways. Some of them still linger."

Nodding agreeably, the dark haired woman sighed, far too familiar with that refrain 'Oh yes, far easier to conform, means you need to relocate a lot less.' Shrugging she shouldered her staff, free hand tickling her familiar under the chin on the other side. 'Still seems so trivial for a mere key. Still, I can see the point if its only a few bits of gold. '

'Well, if you do not need my services, I suppose I shall let you see to your reunion then. If you ever do, well, the Card has my adress too. ' Nodding agreeably, the young Tiefling prepared to depart and leave the demoness to her meeting.

Jillian offers a genuine smile, and waves at the other woman's departure. "Be safe in your travels, and don't bury yourself any more deeply than you can dig yourself out of," she offers cheerfully.

With some of her erstwhile annoyance diminished from the random encounter, Jillian made the rest of her way to Mito's shop so that she could acquire what was needed. Still believing that it was a silly practice that only wasted time (what was wrong with setting up shop at the hot springs, itself?), she nonetheless purchased a copy of the key that would allow her inside, and backtracked her slender self across the front half of Mandala to where she originally started.

Allowing herself inside, she unlocked the sliding door inside and gently pulled it to one side, greeted by an expanse of warm air that the hot springs continually provide for the small outdoor enclosure, such that it could be enjoyed even on less-temperate days (such as this one). The mountain town's altitude meant that even some summer days brought a chill to them, depending on the wind, which made something like this a perfect amenity.

The onsen was uninhabited, with the exception of one guest who happened to be seated at the far end, resting on the outer edge with her legs submerged up to the knee, and her blue gown-like dress pulled up along her thighs to avoid getting it wet in the mineral waters. She seemed taken by something, her expression unreadable as she looked upon the wavering springs, hands folded loosely in her lap. Long, lxurious blue hair scattered itself down her back in cascading waves, somewhat tousled from a lack of recent brushing.

Jillian stood there in the doorway for a moment, setting her sights on her target, but not immediately sure of how to proceed. It was weird enough seeing her ninety-six years earlier than she should've, but in this particular context made it even more outside the norm. The Sinistral of Death isn't someone you just happen to bump into at the local onsen; then again, things have been pretty weird lately, so maybe it's just another link in the chain fence.

Without looking up at all, the woman brushes a length of hair behind one distinctly-pointed ear, her lips curling into a blatant smirk. "I had a feeling that your spirits were going to out me, sooner or later," she said, her voice quiet and tone oddly gentle for someone of her standing. Even her presence had a sort of commanding aura to it, almost something akin to nobility, despite the fact that she was simply a woman enjoying her time at the hot springs.

Not really seeing a 'right' way to handle this under the awkwardness of the situation in general, Jillian decides to just... relax, and let things happen as they do. Sliding the door closed behind her, she takes a few seconds to roll up her leggings to upper-calf and walk around the outer edge of the onsen, having herself a seat nearby, but not-quite-directly-next-to the other woman. The warmth of the heated waters soaked into her almost immediately as her feet submerged within them, and she had to admit that she could understand why this might be a place of choice for someone who just happened to be in the mountains to begin with. It felt pretty damn good. "They're very perceptive," Jillian responds, albeit a considerable length of time after the initial conversation was opened. Another moment passed, and then another, before Jillian looked up and across the way, the faintest of frowns on her face. "Will you talk willingly?"

The question brought the woman's face up, but still without looking at Jillian. "That sounded like a threat," she said, amused. "Is that what you're doing, now, threatening helpless girls in local mountain towns? For shame, Jill."

Jillian fought with herself momentarily, trying to determine just how much she was in the mood for games. She wasn't impatient, really, but given who she was speaking with, there was a--

Her thoughts screeched to a halt, suddenly, as something suddenly occurred to her, intermingled with the words she just said. Jillian's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, as she focused on the other woman, or, specifically, something about her that wasn't exactly visible. Surprise overtook her briefly, but she held it in check. "... So that's why I couldn't detect you, myself," she said, after a few moments. "You're barely there."

"That's an astute way of putting it," the woman agreed, moving her foot gently through the water and looking back down at the ripples it caused. "You've lost quite a bit since you split from your better half, haven't you? A shame, really. The power you commanded was absolutely marvelous, at one point. I was even jealous of you."

Her frown deepens, not really understanding what's going on or why her 'friend' seems to unphased by it. "You're lucky, you know," she said, turning her eyes to look down at where the woman was kicking her foot through the water. "If Haut knew you were here, this town would probably be a crater in his attempts to ionize you, the moment he saw your face. You really shouldn't be here." Her tone is... implicative, in that last comment, as if she meant it in more ways than one.

Finally she raises her eyes toward Jillian, a distinctly-smug look crossing her pristine facial features. "Really, now?" she asked, not belaying her own amusement. "I'm that important to him, hmm?"

Her patience crumbles a little bit, and she shifts enough against the edge of the onsen that a bit of splashing results from her legs crossing over one another. "What are you doing here, Erim?" she finally just asks. "What's going on? And where are the others?"

The huge grin on Erim's face is probably irritating beyond measure. "If I had an answer to that question, I'd tell you," she said. "You, at least. It was always so hard to keep anything from you. The fact that you're here right now is invariable proof of this. I am a bit early, aren't I?" Her eyes briefly glance at the shade still present over Jillian's shoulder. "You're asking a bit much of me, at the moment. How am I supposed to call my brothers when I'm barely giving off enough of a Mana Signature that even the spirits had to take a few days to track me down? I'm distinctly mortal at the moment, which I'm sure you're aware." She averts her eyes, but does not divest herself of the grin. "If you took that scythe of yours, you could finish the job pretty quick. Of course, you'd have all that blood to deal with, and then you'd be charged for cleanup fees. But you could. It'd be simple, quick. I wouldn't even put up a fight."

Jillian is silent for several moments, and then another few moments after that. She wasn't lying; there was absolutely nothing stopping her from just... nipping this in the bud. Right here, right now. Nevermind the jest about cleanup, she could be gone before anyone even came to call. Erim simply being here was a danger to everyone on the same plane and beyond, but only... if she had the means to be. Which she didn't. What in the hell was going on? This just added several more questions to the pile that she and Haut were already trying to sift through, but, fortunately, she was a lot less volatile when frustration hit than he was. Usually. "What happened to you?" she asks, plainly.

Erim's smug grin drops about halfway. "Are you deaf?" she chastised. "I'm pretty sure I told you that if I knew, I'd speak of it. The last thing I remember was lounging around in the underworld in the same measure of stasis that I always am, waiting for the next century to make my grand re-entrance like I always do, bring my brothers back, try to bring the world to heel, all that nonsense. And then, suddenly, I woke up next to some talking bush that claimed I landed on his home. I cannot explain anything further because I don't know anything further." She looks back at Jillian. "Dreadite isn't too fond of me, you know. The concept of having souls that he can't punish, or push around, or direct to other realms; it rubs him the wrong way something fierce. The manner of my death-and-rebirth cycle gets under his skin like nothing you've ever seen." Her tone sounds way too proud for the concept she's expounding upon.

Jillian exhales through her nose. "None of that is helpful, unfortunately," she said. "We've been having... problems, up here, over the last year or so. The last thing we really need is to be worrying about you and your kin coming back." All of this was a broadly-conversational tone, a maddening 'normalcy' despite the fact that she's literally discussing prospects of eventual world-domination like it was dinnertime discussion.

"I know," she said. And that was all she said. Her smugness vanishes immediately, but she keeps eye contact.

"You know which?" she asked. "That we don't want you here, or...?" A sense of dread began to creep into the back of Jillian's mind.

"All of the above," she elaborated. "I'm not the only problem they've been dealing with in the Underworld." Again, short little sentences. Her expression didn't leave any indication of knowing whether she was doing it on purpose or not.

Before Jillian can make another angsty little quip, Erim decides to change the topic, crossing one of her legs over the other and adjusting the hem of her dress a little ways in her lap. "How's the boy?" she asked, nonchalantly.

This... gets to her. That frown that was already present on Jillian's face grows aggressive, and her eyes narrow accordingly. "He didn't survive the fight," she said, injecting venom into that last word. "He sacrificed himself to finish cleaning up your handiwork so that the rest of us could continue on with our lives." The bitterness is real.

Erim raises an eyebrow, her eyes still locked onto Jillian's despite the fierce change in disposition. "You really have lost your touch, haven't you?" she asks, with mild surprise. "Goodness, Jill, I don't know what to say."

She could feel the dark energy starting to manifest inside of her, at that moment, and she just waited for the black scythe to appear in her hands. There was no way she was going to simply sit around and be teased about this. Not after everything he sacrificed just so that they could go on living. "If you say one more word about Ambience, you'll be looking at the sky for the last few seconds that your eyes retain life, as it rolls across the stone toward the other side of the fence." Her voice positively dripped with malice.

She looks unphased, even going so far as to close her eyes fractionally from a lack of amusement. "I get the feeling that you misunderstood me," she said, calmly. "If you still had any vestige of your old power, you'd know that the child is anything but dead, at the moment."

This comment causes the shade spirit to suddenly go into a frenzy, its eye widening as it frantically looks side at Jillian, as if trying to garner some sort of clarification of this. Its whole body seems to vibrate, as it flaps its little wings in a blatantly-panicked state.

She notes the sudden upheaval of the spirit's mannerisms at her side, but she tries to ignore them for the moment, for her own sake. "What are you talking about?" she asks. "The mana spirits can't sense him. Nobody has seen him since. Outside of actually seeing a body, we received all the confirmation we needed to know that he did not return from the Fortress' destruction." Her tone is less... angry, and more confused. Maybe even a trace... hopeful?

Her smug look returns, but only partially. "I know he didn't survive," she said. "I wasn't implying the contrary. But I also know they sent him back," she said, with a slow blink, "because I watched them do it."

She was sure that the dumbfounded look on her face was fueling that smugness on the other woman's face up to full capacity. "You... you what?" she asked, incredulously. "How? I mean... how?" She trips over her own words in her attempts to get a grip on what she's hearing. "That's not how things work down there. If anyone would know, I would!"

"Then you would also know that sometimes the rules don't apply," Erim said, with an ounce of accusation. "I told you that there are problems going on down there." She shifts again, straightening her legs out as she turns her attention back to the water. "Apparently his soul was going to be collateral damage if they left him there. So they purged him back to the Middle Realm. I don't know anything more than that." She glances upward. "Judging by the circumstances, I'm going to hazard a guess that the situation is probably similar with me, as to why I'm back so early, as well. But I can't say for sure."

Jillian needs a moment or nine to process all of this, her eyes falling away from Erim and toward the edge of the onsen as some sense of logic tries to piece all of this together into one puzzle that fits. Absolutely none of that made enough sense for any of it to fall into place. And what did the Underworld's problems have to do with them? Was Dreadite just slacking?

Erim seems to take Jillian's silence as an allowance for her to say more things. Which she does. "There's something else I wanted to tell you, at some point, Jill." Her tone is... significantly less-snarky, and maybe even a bit more than conversational.

She's not... really done trying to process things, but considering how much progress she's making, she figured that she might as well hold off on her own aneurism for now. She straightens, looking aside at Erim without saying anything, but letting her know that her attention is there. She's still frowning, though!

She seems to smile just faintly as Jillian looks at her, but then averts her eyes back to the surface of the hot spring's waters. "I knew we weren't going to be able to win," she said, in what is a strange and probably rather-abrupt admission from out of nowhere. "Considering who you had with you, and what they brought with them, it was a pretty silly struggle on our part. But we tried, anyway."

Jillian cocks her head slightly. "What do you mean?" she asks.

Her smile falls, sending her expression back to neutral territory. "You might not believe me after everything we've been through together, and the odds we've been at, the whole time, but I didn't want to fight him," she admits. "Ambience was my friend before anything else happened." She looks up, but still away from Jillian. "You weren't there to see it, but I balked, both times I had the opportunity to strike. My brothers condemned me for it, asked what was wrong with me. It's been an ongoing problem for centuries. You're not blind, Jill. You've seen it, too, right?"

A sad sort of familiarity blends itself into Jillian's frown. "Then why?" she asked. "I feel like I asked you that question before, possibly at least every other century in which you came back. Couldn't you just... not?"

Erim chuckles, a hallow little sound that has no humor in it. "It sounds like it should be that simple, doesn't it?" she muses. "I wonder sometimes, too, why it isn't." She is silent for a few moments, but picks back up again. "I remember having a similar conversation with Ambience, at one point. Toward the end, before Daos raised that machination into the sky. It was the last time I was able to speak to him on the basis of being 'friends,' now that I think of it. He asked me a question, and I had to answer him honestly, no matter how much I knew it would hurt him. That pain that I knew I'd caused stayed with me, and probably was the main reason we lost against the Dual Blade. Somehow or another, I can't seem to shake these things as easily as my brothers can. A Sinistral I may be, but I am not without my fallacies."

Jillian is silent, watching Erim almost the way an older sister might be watching a younger one who had just slipped up too many times and couldn't find her way back. "As long as you're here, the others will find their way back," Jillian finally said, sounding a bit strained despite the words needing to be said. "There's no way around it. I've seen this cycle happen too many times to know otherwise; as soon as your power returns, that will be all it takes. And we can't have that happen again. Not this soon. We're not..." She trails off, hardly believing she's even having this conversation. "We're not ready, yet. We lost the Dual Blade, as it was, when the Fortress collapsed."

"My powers aren't coming back," Erim says, almost immediately. "Not this time. Something about this situation is... different. It is not like I have lost them and am waiting for them to return. Something took them from me." She looks up at Jillian. "I can't believe I'm even needing to tell you this. What happened to you in the last four years, Jill?"

She frowned, not bothering to hide the fact that Erim's comment was taken offensively. "Some of us want to lead normal lives, at some point," she said. "I've been waiting a long time for my chance, and when it came, I seized it. Even if it meant giving up a lot of who I used to be, in the process. The tradeoff felt worth it."

Erim looks... very unhappy to hear that comment. The scowl that spreads over her face is swift and indignant, as are the words that follow. "You think I don't!?" she lashes out, her blue eyes shimmering with barely-concealed anger. "You think I want to come back every one hundred years just to die again, over and over, for the rest of eternity!?" Erim pulled herself out of the onsen, getting to her feet as she glowered down at the succubus, her tall form imposing as the bottom half of her gown swept itself back over her legs and billowed loosely around her body. "If I had a chance to drop all of this and leave, I would, Jill! But some of us don't get a choice. Some of us are stuck with what we are. It wouldn't matter how much I didn't want my brothers to come back. They would anyway! And then I get the wonderful choice of either being slaughtered by them for treason, or slaughtered by you and yours in the name of 'good'! How am I supposed to handle that?"

"Or did you forget that, too?" she harps after a moment of aggressive silence, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We had this conversation before. And that was exactly what I had to tell Ambience, because he asked me the exact same thing: 'Why?' 'Why does it have to be this way?'" Erim's hands balled up into loose fists, unable to present her frustration in any other way. "Some of us aren't allowed to have it any other way. So excuse me for not throwing out garlands of flowers for you and your 'normal life', Jill."

Jillian is silent. Crestfallen, even; she knew. It didn't change anything, but she did know. She just couldn't do anything about it, even if she wanted to. So she merely sits there, averting her eyes, and looking fairly miserable over it.

Erim stands there, seething, before her anger gradually begins to subside, with no conflict to really feed off of, to keep it going. Her frown changes from aggressive to just sad, but she composes herself after a moment, and glances off past the springs. "He's out there somewhere," she said, a bit of frustration not quite all-the-way gone. "You'll find him eventually, if you try hard enough. Or, who knows, maybe he'll come to you. You mortals have a tendency to get lucky that way, more often than not."

She looks up, hearing the change in Erim's tone. "What will you do, then?" she asked.

The Sinistral tosses her head, a but haughtily. "I don't know, I haven't thought that far ahead yet," she said. "Considering the enemies I have here, already, probably not a lot before I just end up killed again. But I'll just have to try and stay out of sight until something... figures itself out. I don't really know what to expect." She turns toward Jillian. "Just try to keep an eye on things. Something's going to happen, but I don't know what, or when. When it does, it's going to be a lot bigger than the four of us could've ever hoped to be."

Jillian tried to find something to say, discounting the warning that had just been offered. None of this was even remotely close to what she'd expected, during this encounter. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't tell Haut about any of this, knowing where it came from. Erim couldn't hide forever, either. The frustration started to seep in, feeling her own powerlessness at the situation now being laid out before her, and how little she could actually impact any of it, after everything she'd already given up. Had it actually been worth it, in the end? Was she actually better off, this way? She literally could neither have her cake nor eat it, too, and it was agonizing.

Seeing no real reason to stick around at this point, Erim heads for the inn door, stepping around where Jillian was sitting. "I'd tell you to just kill me so we could get it over with and spare me the uncertainty of when it would inevitably happen, anyway, but I suspect that I'll just end up here again, not long after," she says, facing the door. "Something didn't want me left in the Underworld, but I don't know why. I suspect the reason is the same for the boy, but I also don't know why." And with that, she opens the door and makes her exit, letting it slide closed behind her.

Jillian just wallows there, feet still submerged in the hot springs. The warmth she should've been feeling from them was not quite as prolific as it had been before.

The shit pile just kept getting bigger and bigger, and she didn't have a shovel anywhere near big enough to make a dent in it.