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Somehow, inside was worse.

Cold and desolate, without any visible decoration. Kyrik wasn't sure what he expected the inside of a detention center to look like, but this was...discomforting. The icy stone against his palms, uninspired features and whatnot. The guards themselves wore dark hoods and robes to mask themselves from prisoners.

The security check in involved multiple magical probes launched at them. Kyrik barely felt them, but nevertheless his mind was repulsed.

"Is it wise to bring someone so young in here?" One of the guards asked.

"Perhaps not, but he possesses a unique talent that will speed this process along." Jirmen answered with unnatural cheer. Like he was forcing himself to be happy in this place.

"I trust he has an illusion?"

"I have not applied it, but I shall once the inspection is over."

"Is it one of those that will alter it even for us?" Kyrik asked. "Like, will I see the difference?"

"Yes. Those ones are stronger."

Once they were cleared, Jirmen led Kyrik into a circular environment with another checkpoint. From the seats and other furnishing, this looked like a visiting center, yet no one was here. Probably sent away after what happened.

"Try not to move." Jirmen instructed. "This should only take a second."

Kyrik stood rigid, perhaps too much so as he felt his lower back lock up. A wave of pink light emanated from Jirmen's palm, washing over Kyrik as his scales changed from cream to black. True to Jirmen's word, it took but a second, and when it was done Kyrik found himself looking in one of the reflective windows that made the checkpoint.

The new set of scales held a hint of green to them under intense light, eyes turning bright blue. Horn set largely curved and ivory in color, reflecting the lights. Underbelly matched the horns and sickle-shaped tail blade. A grumbling from deep inside Kyrik's mind sounded like a complaint, something Kyrik found himself agreeing with. Much too obvious, although who would really guess?

Pulling at the now silver protofeathers upon his neck, Kyrik found himself pouting.

"Aw," Kyrik said in a similar, yet still different, accent and pitch. "I'm still short."

"Can't change the size, sadly." A feminine voice answered in a slightly distorted voice. "Would take an extraordinarily powerful illusionist to do so, as they can bend light into a solid to change the anatomy."

Kyrik turned to see Jirmen now as a female lycon with a much more bronzed coat. He - now she? - sported a bright blue robe adorned with gold and bronze trimmings. The face was concealed in a golden mask, leaving only the amber eyes visible. Staff ending with an ankh rather than an orb, it pulsated every few seconds.

"Evidently you can change the gender though." Kyrik blinked a few times. "Why?"

"Better security. And why not?"

"Fair." Kyrik looked back to his reflection. "Next time do that. New incarnation may be female, after all; would be nice to have _some _practice. Not sure what I'm expecting to be different but..."

"Incarnation?" One of the guards asked.

"Uh..." Kyrik paled slightly. So caught up in his new appearance, he neglected to check the environment and lower his voice.

"Reaper talk." Jirmen said brightly. Kyrik shot him a questioning look.

"I would not think this to be a time for jokes." The guard replied. Kyrik breathed a small sigh of relief. "Are you two all set?"

"We are." Jirmen nodded.

Admittedly, Kyrik did wonder why Jirmen would change genders for this. One would think him being as powerful as he was wouldn't warrant such a drastic disguise. All questions were answered when Kyrik stepped through two sets of halls leading to the interrogation rooms.

Although not murderers, the negative emotions Kyrik picked up on nearly consumed him. The lifeforce of everyone here, in such proximity, was enough for Kyrik to lean against the wall to regain balance. From those who consumed magic to the ones who practiced much darker arts than necromancy, everyone here felt one thing:

Hatred. Hatred for what they perceived to be injustice or for those who imprisoned them. Kyrik couldn't tell who may have been wrongfully imprisoned, but the sheer _resentment _was enough to cloud his mind. In most cases, he couldn't pick up emotions. But with so many thinking similarly, it was enough for the other side of him to pick up.

Said other side flared at Kyrik's wobbling. It wanted nothing more than to take over and jump into the middle of the crowd and sort them out. Mark souls for reapers to note when their time finally came. It wasn't a scream for justice, but rather instinct.

"Are you alright?" Jirmen asked, snapping Kyrik from his trance.

"Yes." Kyrik caught up to her.

"If you wish for me to stop lying, as you put it, then I expect the same in return." Jirmen said lowly.

Kyrik scowled. There was only reason why she was acting this way. "_He _is active here. He wants to brand the souls, to pass his own judgements."

"I anticipated as much." Jirmen paused and bent down before him. "All the more reason why I am going to teach you a new spell. It should, theoretically, quell the stirring. This may hurt."

Before Kyrik could ask why, a tiny beam of white light surged from the tip of Jirmen's finger and into Kyrik's forehead. The biggest of all headaches, like something bonked him on the head, erupted and momentarily disoriented Kyrik. Leaning against the wall again, he had to blink a few times before the heart-like thumping slowly receded.

"What did you do?" Kyrik gasped.

"Something that is inadvisable, but we are pressed for time." Jirmen responded with a hint of remorse. "I transferred my knowledge of a summoning spell known as 'Vizier's Eye'. It will help quell the lifeforce you sense and allow you to tell if someone is being truthful or not without relying on your reaper half."

"I'm guessing it's inadvisable because someone's head may explode?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Higher level spells can render someone catatonic. But, you should be able to search your mind and will one into appearance."

Kyrik did so and sure enough, it was there. In his mind, an image of the eye showed itself; a literal eye made of arcane, it would blink whenever someone told a lie. As the spell was very low energy and not offensive, it could be cast. Kyrik held out his claws, supercharging the runes closest to him and melding them together to create the being.

To the naked eye, nothing was done. To anyone with magical abilities or Arcane Vision, it appeared as a floating eye made of swirling blue energy. It stared blankly at Kyrik, as if awaiting orders.

"Come, we don't have a lot of time." Jirmen swiftly moved to the end of the hall.

Inside was a small room with one-way glass, enchanted like the rest. In it, a gryphon guard dressed in a drab grey and white cloak awaited. Must be some sort of higher rank if the minimal change in wardrobe was any indication. He - or she, hard to tell - was faced away, looking at the inside of the adjacent chamber.

Inside were six suspects, all nervous and confused on the outside. On the inside, Kyrik couldn't say. They were lined against a wall, and consisted of dragons and gryphons, being the mostly likely to backstab the former. The cold and confining chambers did little to relieve them as no one spoke.

On the other side of both chambers, a door leading to the interview room was locked tight.

"These six, huh?" Jirmen folded her arms.

"All six were near the scene of the crime." The warden reported. "What's with him?" He indicated to Kyrik.

"He is able to sense lifeforce. If someone has hidden malicious intent, it's him." Jirmen explained to Kyrik's confusion. Didn't he give the eye to _stop _this?

"I didn't realize empaths were being used." The Warden said with some displeasure.

"He is a special case. I would not bring him if it wasn't so."

"You're the archmage, I'm not going to question."

Kyrik and Jirmen were allowed inside, where a table made of cold metal awaited. Three chairs, one made for quadrupeds next to the one made for bipedals. Even with the small cushioning in the round shape, it was like laying on the floor.

"Remember to remain calm." Jirmen instructed Kyrik. "Let me take the lead on questioning. If you have something to add, let me know before you speak."

The first was called in, a dragon only a few years older than Kyrik. He didn't recognize either of them, although eyes never left Jirmen. The questions began not aggressively, but rather pleasant. If Jirmen suspected this dragon, she didn't show, voice sympathetic and even.

"I swear, I would tell you if I saw what happened to him." The dragon said after a few moments of questioning. "I lived through the Seraphim attacks; I've had _enough _death."

The eye didn't blink, and so the dragon was dismissed.

The next few all said similar things. They didn't see anything, had enough of death. Kyrik doubted any of them did this, a sentiment Jirmen shared by the time the third left. Still, they needed to be thorough. And it was good they were.

"I'm telling you, nothing I saw or heard was unusual." The gryphon said with short patience.

Shlink.

A wet movement came from above, where the eyes floated invisibly. Jirmen glanced upward at her own, but it did not move. It stared at the gryphon unblinkingly. Kyrik's, however, blinked once again as a nagging emerged in the back of his mind. This gryphon was lying in some way.

"Excuse us for a moment." Jirmen pulled Kyrik back into the other room, where she stared at Kyrik. "Why is your eye reacting?"

"Because my powers are." Kyrik answered truthfully. "It's telling me this gryphon is lying."

"Does it say why?" Jirmen folded her arms.

"No. But it keeps nagging me." Kyrik eyed the door. "I think we're asking the wrong question."

"What do you mean?"

"We asked if he saw something strange. He said no. But what if he thought he imagined something?"

Jirmen said not a word, tail swishing in thought as she held a claw under her chin, finger tapping the mask.

"That is possible." Jirmen finally spoke. "Still doesn't explain why your _intuition _activated." She said with a glance to the warden, who remained silent.

"I don't know either, but it's worth a shot to ask."

"Agreed."

When they walked back in, Kyrik felt the nagging once again. It didn't threaten to overtake his consciousness, but it was like a blaring siren in his ear. It didn't beg, instead demanding for Kyrik or Jirmen to ask the question.

"I understand you didn't see or hear anything," Jirmen said plainly. "However, and this might be a strange question, did you think you imagined something?"

The gryphon flinched as the presence on Kyrik's mind signaled satisfaction.

"Nothing is too far fetched, especially after five years ago." Jirmen reminded kindly.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right." The gryphon relented after a moment. "Still doesn't explain what I saw."

"And that is?"

"I know Shrikian biology; they're pretty limber despite looking starved half the time." The gryphon began slowly. "I couldn't make out features other than the species, but this shriker simply...jumped up on a building without any magic I could detect. Like they were supercharged. Was about a block from where the murder was and I was already exhausted from the night before, so I took it as a fatigued mind."

Kyrik blinked, but his vizier's eye did not. Some shrikers could jump extraordinarily high, but nowhere near that. Without magic, it should've been impossible. Unless spring boots were a thing now.

"Technology?" Kyrik blurted out before he could stop himself.

"None that I saw." The gryphon said.

"And the time you witness this shriker?" Jirmen took over again.

"I would estimate maybe five minutes before the murder."

Nothing more could be gotten from the gryphon. The eye indicated he didn't lie, and the last suspect provided nothing. Jirmen and Kyrik were left sitting in the interview room, mulling it over silently.

A shriker may be involved. Either that or it was a bizarre coincidence. Frustratingly, this raised more questions than answers. Who were they? Why were they there? Why this dragon in particular? How did they reach the top of the building without magic or technology?

Premeditated or not, the killer was still stalking the streets. Doubtlessly, there would be another death if they didn't catch the murderer. Another nagging in his mind suggested that even though this killer may not strike again, someone else may take it as a sign of weakness.

And Kyrik knew there was bound to be someone influenced by darker whispers in Falmari.

"I agree," Jirmen said when Kyrik voiced his concerns. "But we cannot overthink this right now. We must approach this level-headedly."

"It doesn't help that we have an alien in the medical ward to worry about, either." Kyrik frowned.

"We have a what!?"

"Oh, did Methir not alert you?"

"No!"

"Hold on, I'll open a portal. Actually, can I here? I don't want to exert energy if it won't work."

"Wait until we are outside. In the meantime, you can tell me how and why there's an alien."

***

"I let Kyrik in earlier." Jirmen said with small hesitation.

After Kyrik let slip they had an alien in the medical ward, Jirmen had him warp there to launch investigation. The alien took the form of a dragon, but underneath the flesh and scales was a different vascular system. One heart as opposed to two. Yet there were no deformities as a result of this. Outside the injuries sustained in the crash landing, she - as Jirmen identified - was healthy.

Still, he had her moved to a private room in case she became a threat like the Seraphim were. Kyrik was sent off to his study to prepare for training in the morning, whereas Methir and Jirmen were left alone with the unknown dragon.

"Did you?" Methir asked with interest.

"He followed me to the detention center." Jirmen leaned against the wall. "I wanted to keep him out, but he would've done something far more reckless if I had."

"So, that's where he went." Methir shook her head. "I knew he was lying, but I didn't want him to start poking our guest."

"His powers reacted to the prisoners." Jirmen said grimly. "He felt their lifeforce. Their negativity. I had to give him the Vizier's Eye, and even still the reaper still influenced."

When he told Methir what transpired, concern grew along her purple face. She paced, remaining silent for an extended period, eyes firmly locked on the ground.

"Well, at least we have _some _sort of lead." Methir said with ghostly humor. "_And _we know more about his other side. It's always just been a presence, but if it is growing active...well, do you think it's possible it already figured out what's going on?"

"I'm not sure." Jirmen admitted. "And even if it did, I do _not _want it to wake up."

"I wasn't suggesting that."

"I know, but nevertheless I am concerned of how it'll affect Kyrik." Jirmen lightly tapped the butt of his staff on the ground in thought.

"I'll monitor him, don't you worry." Methir said brightly. "Still, I'm glad you taught him the eye. I just hope he remembers to summon it."

"Given how distracted he gets, I have my doubts." Jirmen turned his attention to the sleeping alien. "But, we need to discuss what happens when she wakes up."

"I'm reluctant to do so." Methir followed his gaze. "I know your apprehension after what Ephiral did to your race. However, I don't think she is anywhere near as powerful, and going in expecting another Seraph is unhealthy. Remember, I was there; I saw what one of Ephiral's heralds did, and I don't sense anything close to that power in her."

"I meant more along the lines of if she _isn't _a threat." Jirmen clarified. "We know absolutely nothing. What if she cannot eat or drink anything on this planet? What other accommodations must we consider? That is not getting into how we will return her to her race."

"Did Kyrik tell you how she seemed to develop the draconic shape after crashing?" Methir asked. Jirmen shook his head. "My personal hypothesize is that she may not have had a true form, but changed upon sight of Kyrik, as he was the closest to her at the time. Perhaps she adapted biologically as well? Outside the one heart, anyway."

"I suppose we will find out when she awakens." Jirmen held his staff over her to check vitals. "I suspect she will awaken soon, though. Her body is reacting positively to the treatments."

"I'll watch her." Methir said. "I suspect you'll need to tell the family of the deceased, if you haven't already."

"One of the Warlocks should have already, but I should visit the family." Jirmen eyed the unconscious dragon again. "Alert me when she awakens."

"I will, don't worry."

***

Kyrik refused to study.

How in the world did Methir expect him to do such a thing at such a time? A murder! In Falmari! The safest place Kyrik had ever been, now tainted.

The instant he got to his study, he slammed the door shut and locked it with a ward. Last thing he needed was Methir or Jirmen to walk in on him trying to piece everything together behind their backs. Telling him not to worry about it or otherwise patronizing. He knew they cared, but it was still annoying.

Kyrik's study was akin to a miniature library. Medium-sized, the walls lined with books upon books in shelves. Usually, he took great care in keeping it clean, but in his mad dash to get paper and other tools, he knocked a few things over. Conjuring winds, he utilized them clear an area near the beige walls, where he placed a blank paper and started drawing Tarith while making various lines connecting to his portrait.

The bone lodged in his spine was what threw Kyrik off the most. He wasn't allowed to take it, being evidence and all, but the ability to _trap _a spirit within their own body...Kyrik himself didn't know how to do it. Such an act was forbidden to be taught, even in the Sect of the Damned. Although, one did have the leaders held the title 'Soulbinder', but he doubted she would travel all the way here to kill someone at random.

Most of the necromantic and dark arts students left around the murder to go on some sort of study trip. Not that Kyrik could run up and start asking questions. Although, that didn't mean he _couldn't _sneak in and investigate.

But, there were next to no Shrikian students in the arts. None of them could've been present around the time, and the one instructor was already at the departing portal.

Nothing connected, yet Kyrik couldn't shake the feeling they were. If the way his other side was stirring was any indication, it felt the same. The question is how.

Absently, he wrote the word 'Alien' and circled it with a '?'. There wasn't a plausible way for her to be the killer, as she arrived after, but she might have a connection. A reach, he was certain, but he had to assess all the clues.

Tapping his pencil against his mask in thought, Kyrik must've eyed everything a dozen times. He was missing something vital. What, he didn't know. But it was right in front of him, of that he was certain.

"We don't know much about you do we, Tarith?" Kyrik muttered to himself. "No enemies, kept to yourself...but someone targeted you. This couldn't be random. It _can't _be random."

Kyrik thought of the 'arch rival' but didn't know where to start looking. The parents didn't need him pestering and Jirmen likely already took care of that.

At a loss, Kyrik slumped onto the ground, not knowing what to do.