They talked and cooled off from the fight.

“I am going to lay out my thoughts,” Tempest said as she rested her staff against the wall and laid back on her cushions. “So. Six possessed men walk into my establishment. Judging by what they apparently said when they walked in, they were looking for one Isaac Wells.” She looked at Isaac, her expression stern, but not angry. “Then, your automaton runs down the stairs and starts swinging. Now, I’m very glad you managed to defeat them with little harm done, but I need to know why.”

Isaac looked first to Arthus, who was staring down at its hand, then Vanya, who stood tall in her shining armor. “Well,” he finally said after a few moments, “I think that they’re after us on behalf of Declan. When we faced him last, he had some kind of magic orb that was… powering his machines? Making more soldiers? I’m not sure how it worked. Point is, I saw more people under him with that kind of blue glow about them.”

“In times long past,” Arthus muttered, eye flickering blue, purple, blue, purple, “there was a being known as Za’kal’ik, though its more common names were Primogen, or the Overlord Soul. The first being of a now-dead people. It persists, still, able to corrupt man and machine.” Arthus looked up, staring straight at Isaac. “It once held me. It does so no longer. But Declan has subjugated it.”

“The Overlord Soul,” Tempest murmured. “That is grave news indeed. But, it explains a lot. Declan is more powerful than I had first worried.” She lifted her hand and flicked her wrist, and the staff flew to her grip. Again, sea-green light spilled from the staff. Arthus shuddered hard, pins and fastens rattling in its form, before stilling. The Wraithrider vibrated and hummed, but was fine. “I have blocked out spiritual energies except for Aoife from the cabaret. It will take a considerable amount of my energy, but I will maintain it for as long as you stay here.”

Isaac didn’t answer immediately, instead watching the automaton. Arthus stared into the middle distance, occasionally shaking with a tremor through its body. The spark of lavender in its eye pulsed large, small, and back again in a slow rhythm. “Arthus?”

The machine snapped its head to look at Isaac. “Yes, Master Wells?”

“Are you okay?”

Arthus kind of laughed, but not in an amused way. “No, I don’t believe I am. Please, leave me be. I need… to process.” It went back to staring into the distance, so Isaac left well enough alone.

“...okay. So, I’m super out of my depth.” Isaac held out his hands and shrugged. “What do I do?”

“Wait.” Tempest laid the staff down. “Wait for your powerful, knowledgeable allies to arrive. You are safest under my protection. You saw only a taste, but Vanya and I are very capable - when not caught too off-guard. Your war machine, as… ill… as it seems to be, is also formidable. I suggest you lay low.”

Vanya put her hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “I’ve got you. Mother will protect us both. When Rhyn gets home, she will protect you as well.”

“I have one gift for you that may alleviate some of your worry.” Tempest reached into her cushions and withdrew Isaac’s cell phone. “It was a bit damaged, but with some mending magic and a bit more tweaking, I’ve managed to make it work as a sending device.” She held it out, so Isaac took it. “I’m no artificer, but I have been around long enough to learn some things. It can now charge off of spirit energy, so you can siphon off your Wraithrider if needed. It can also now cast the spell to contact other creatures. Efficacy will vary, but… there you are.”

“Thank you, Madam Tempest,” Isaac said as he powered his phone on. Mostly charged, for the moment.

“You’re very welcome. Now, please go relax, and leave me to… determining what to do.” She waved him off with a smirk on her lips.

Isaac nodded and left, Arthus following him. Vanya stayed, speaking softly to Tempest. Isaac went back up to his room, and the automaton stationed itself by the door again.

Isaac sat on the bed and looked down at his phone as he pulled off the Wraithrider and tossed it aside. He considered it for a bit. He wanted to contact his friends, make sure they were okay… but how?

Vanya appeared in the doorway, in her dress again. She leaned against the doorframe, pushing out her chest and smirking. “To cast the spell, mother tells me,” she said as she walked over and sat beside him, “you must focus on the person you wish to message and you touch the little rune now engraved on the corner.”

“Just as I was thinking about it,” Isaac said with a laugh, reaching out to pat her on the knee.

Isaac did as he was instructed, thinking first of Ophelia. The phone began to ring, as if calling a phone number normally, so he lifted it to his ear. It rang a concerning amount of times, then beeped with the telltale tone of a disconnected number. “So, what does it mean if it doesn’t connect?”

“There may be interference, they may just be too far away. I’m not experienced in those kinds of spells, though.” Vanya placed her hand on Isaac’s lower back, her brow furrowing in worry. She shifted closer to him, giving him a half-hug as he thumbed the rune on the corner of the phone again.

Isaac sighed and tried again, this time trying Jade… nothing. Torik… nothing. Aoife… nothing. Tyler…

A small click.

“Well, well, well,” said the familiar voice of Tyler Jones. “It is good to hear from you, Isaac.”

“Tyler!” Isaac almost shouted, relieved that someone had answered. “Thank god, okay, no one else answered.”

“I’m a little more tuned to these kinds of things. Messaging magic is one of my specialties.” Tyler sounded casual, but tired. “I spoke to Estelle yesterday, I guess she got your phone working?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Awesome. Aoife and I are probably going to be there in… gods, it’ll be a few weeks. We’re taking a breather in Lynndal. We picked up some… how to put it… there was or is a portal here. That means that the others might be here. We’re gonna look around, wait out for a little while, and we’ll be on our way to you - with a ride! - in a couple of days.” Tyler paused, sighed. “Just hang out. Sit tight.”

“If you hear anything from the others, or if you can contact them…”

“I’ll let you know. Stay safe.”

The phone clicked again, and Tyler was gone.