The waves pounded against the cliff, spray vaulting towards the pale clouded heavens and running down the rock face like tears. The island was a forgotten place, isolated far from other lands, and though it withstood the never-ending crash of the surf and passage of time, it had faded into lost ages and memory, leaving the lonely island with only its ephemeral occupants.

The monastery had been established shortly after the island’s discovery, a retreat away from the disorder of the outer world. A small community had taken root there, a pious and simple community whose isolation had led to enlightenment and self-reliance. It had swelled in the ages since then, coming to claim more and more of the island until it more resembled a town than a simple abbey. Some chose to leave the island, but most stayed, and whatever those errant travelers found on the outside must have satisfied them in a way island life could not.

The complex itself sat tall and sprawling atop the uneven cliffs and coves, well away from the surging tides, hundreds of lengths below. When the tide went out, it was nothing more than bare seabed for as far as the eye could see, but the monastery had chosen its lofty location well. The community’s one concession to decadence was the gorgeous edifice that sat upon the furthest cliff, tethered only by a bridge whose foundation had been worn through by the sea, creating a great arch from one cliff to another. The grand cathedral was an architectural marvel, heavy stone and glass crafted into a place of serenity and solitude.

Two great wings of the building reached towards the bridge, shielding the doorway from the weather and casting a twilight over the entrance. Needled spires stretched upwards and sweeping buttresses formed arches along the building. It was an auspicious place, dark in the streaming sunlight that broke the clouds, meant for great things. It took only one look to understand what it must mean to the islanders.

Inside, amid the grand arches and pale light stretching across tiled floors, two columns of pews ran the length of the room. Normally they would fill with the island’s inhabitants every morning for their daily devotion, but for the past three mornings they had been nearly abandoned, terror driving the monks and nuns away from their precious rituals.

It was the sole occupant of the cathedral that had so badly disrupted their simple lives. Visitors were unheard of, but would have been welcome. She was no visitor and whatever purpose she had in being here, the citizens sensed they had no business interfering. For three days, she’d sat in one of the pews, unmoving and deeply disturbing to be near. She had not eaten, nor slept. It seemed as though she scarcely breathed and the aura of inhumanity surrounding her had robbed even these holy people of their devotion and kindness.

They prayed she would just leave.

She was a deceptively slight thing for how greatly her presence filled the building. A tiny woman wrapped tightly in blue lace, a dress cut in a way the islanders had never seen and pure white hair spilled down her back. She was beautiful and exotic, olive skin and soft round features which were completely foreign to the people who lived here. She stared straight ahead, almond eyes unseeing as if she were waiting for something that no one else could possibly fathom.

In one great cacophony, the doors burst open, and in the weak streaming light, the silhouette of a tall youth was briefly illuminated. He posed there for a moment, obviously for effect, but it was completely lost on the waiting figure inside. He casually swaggered in, and even a cursory glance would have confirmed that he was no inhabitant of the island either.

Where the lady was petite, the newcomer was gangly and somewhat disheveled, in a very careful way that made him seem rakish and charming. He strolled in and fell bonelessly into the pew opposite the lady’s own. She did not deign to look his way, or react in any way at all to his arrival, but he unabashedly studied her. Meeting that gaze would have been as disconcerting as sitting in her presence.

His eyes were a brilliant shade the hue of fire and entirely inhuman. After a few long moments of silence, he snorted and threw himself back in his seat, propping his feet on the pew in front of him. A brief search of his pocket produced a length of wire and he began weaving his fingers through it, crafting shapes suspended between his hands. Sometimes shapes that were strictly impossible with only five fingers upon each hand.

Despite the measured silence, the tension between the two spoke volumes, and the air was thick with an emotion the cathedral had only rarely known. Absolute hatred, a palpable aura of malice that pushed upon the walls and almost seemed to rattle the glass in their fixtures. Elsewhere on the island, small animals fled from their shelters and even the human inhabitants felt a sense of disquiet they could not name, worried eyes turning to the island’s edge.

The twin figures sat in silence for some time, meticulously refusing to acknowledge the other. Anywhere else in the many realms of Dominia, they would have set upon one another instantly and torn apart anything and anyone that stood in the way of murdering the other. There were not words for the depths of hatred they possessed for one another, but in this one place, they were, if not friends, at least familiar old enemies. For beings as ancient as they were, there could be surprisingly little difference in the meaning between the two.

Finally, the man sighed dramatically and shook his head, messy hair tousling with every shake. He glanced sideways at the lady opposite him.

“How long have you been working on Jakkard anyways?” He asked, a slight frown curling his lip, voice surprisingly deep for his supposed youth.

“A little over a century. You’ve rarely managed to turn fortune’s favor when you have been so far behind.” She spoke with the first words since she’d arrived days ago. Her own voice was mellifluous, and yet subtly… flat. As if it lacked some basic quality.

“Don’t count me out yet. I’m just getting started. A world as lawless as Jakkard, I’ll have plenty to work with.” He said, and he couldn’t keep a dark knowing smile from his face. She turned to him and the movement mirrored the nature of her voice. She stared at him for several long seconds, and he shrugged under her regard, continuing to play with the wire.

“You are aware of what I have accomplished, I take it?”

“The most recent bit at least. Control of the rail lines?” His hands twisted again and the wire did something… unusual to watch. “Control of the economy essentially. It’s a strong opening gambit, but honestly, I expected more if you’ve worked that long.”

“It is hardly the only move I have made, but you miss the true significance of my achievement.” She folded her hands in her lap and turned to face the front of the room once more. “You have become caught upon the surface details and fail to understand the real reason I went to such trouble.”

“You think too much, get lost in all those plots and schemes. Not that I’m much better in that regard, but still, sometimes you miss what’s right in front of you.” He scoffed and retreated back into himself, scowling as he watched the way his foot bounced in front of him. It stopped as the impact of what she’d done really hit him and he couldn’t help but let out a small, grudging chuckle.

“Damnation, that is insidious.” He whispered, shaking his head with a whistle. “It wasn’t about the rail lines, was it?”

“They were merely a coincidental, if fortuitous, aspect of the plan. Control of Jakkard’s economy was never the end goal of this ploy.”

“The leylines.”

“Precisely. The leylines. With the acquisition of Miss DeCoeur’s ownership of the rail lines, I now control the virtual entirety of the leylines upon Jakkard. The shipping industry and economy are merely honey to sweeten the dish, but I am in sole possession of the most potent concentration of arcane power that flows on Jakkard.”

“Okay, even I’ll admit that’s clever, you sneaky bitch.” He shook his head and looked at her with something between anger and respect. “It’s going to be… far more difficult, but I have plans of my own in motion. I’ve no intention of letting you win this without bleeding a little first.” He growled, though the tone was oddly familiar considering the words.

“An entire world’s worth of mana at your dainty little fingertips.” He remarked, an eyebrow climbing as he looked at her from the side. “That’s a scary thought.” His voice was mildly mocking, but his point was true enough. “You have to at least give me some handicap here. Make it fair. Give us a hint, what do you plan to do with that much power?”

“I shall give you no such thing!” She snapped frostily, and then curiously a chilling excitement lit her eyes. She regained her composure and continued primly after a moment, “I suppose I shall divulge at least one aspect of my plans. If I’m successful, you’ll learn of it quickly enough anyways. I have grown distinctly tired of traveling to Verkell if I must depart Jakkard.”

“Ha! Hahahahehaha!” he barked, laughter echoing in the cathedral as he fell into hysterics before gasping and letting out a deep sigh. “Oh, oh hell that’s good… You’re going to shatter the crystal ceiling! If I didn’t hate you, I’d nearly have to kiss you.” He went through the motion of wiping a tear from his eye, though she was fairly certain he hadn’t wept a genuine tear in his entire blighted life. He leaned back again and started to twist the wire once more, resting his arms on his stomach as he did so.

“Just so, I am appreciative that you do hate me as much as I despise you. It spares me from that lamentable fate.” Something like a sneer marred her lip, but even such an emotional response appeared hollow on her features.

“You wound me!” he gasped mockingly, placing his hand against his brow churlishly. “Sincerely, such slings and arrows, I am undone!” He snorted again and then looked back to what he was doing, the wire pulling taut between his fingers. Silence reclaimed its reign once more and the two sat in each other’s company, not deigning to speak anymore for the moment.

“…I can’t believe they haven’t worked it out yet.” He finally said, folding the wire into a new shape.

“When would they?” she responded with an annoyed sigh, possibly one of the most human reaction she’d shown in the entire time. “They are isolated and self-sufficient. They want for nothing. Even those whose curiosity might drive them beyond the island have little context for the discovery.”

“But someone HAS to question why they never see ships or sailors.” He grimaced as his fingers fouled the next shape.

“Perhaps generations ago, but they have never known it to be normal. Our own appearance has shaken what they know.”

“Your appearance. They never saw me.” He grinned wolfishly, making her own lips compress to a moue of irritation. “You ever think about telling them?”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“Curiosity?” He shrugged and his foppish smirk returned. “Torment?”

“Inconvenience. Our neutral ground serves our needs. Without stewards it would fall into disrepair and we would be forced to acquire a new one. I would appreciate if you did not ruin at least this.”

“Yes, because I’m so known for acceding to your wishes!” he groaned, rolling his eyes and turning his focus back to the wire in his hands. “Fine. I won’t tell them. Not that they’d believe me in the first place.”

“You’ve proven your persuasiveness at great lengths in the past.” She said dispassionately, causing him to nod just a bit smugly. Finally, she donned a thoughtful look and stared into the distance. “Do you recall why we destroyed this world? Was there any meaning behind its death?”

“Pft! Hell if I can remember. You usually keep track of that sort of thing. I’m just in it to watch it all fall down. And to piss you off.” He glanced her way for a reaction, but she sat as perfectly still as a porcelain doll. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.” He teased and the glass in the windows abruptly cracked, causing a sinister grin to form on his lips.

“I fully intend to kill you one day.” She said casually, as if commenting on nothing more noteworthy than the weather.

“You’ve said that before. You’d be bored to death within the month if you did.” He shot back and it was her turn to smile, a cold expression that grew across her face like frost upon glass. “You’d miss the competition too much.”

She sighed and nodded, face empty of emotion again though her eyes showed a glazed and manic light that hadn’t been there before. “The possibility had not entirely fled my mind. The ennui of ages is a perfidious master, though you would not yet know that, would you?”

“Egads… a barb about my age! I must have hit a nerve.” He cackled mockingly. Her mouth compressed once more into displeasure and she rose suddenly, impossibly graceful, making him grimace. She was entirely too smooth, almost mechanically precise, and it was all just subtly wrong. He hated to watch her move in the same way a consummate actor hated to watch a poor performance. It was a fact she knew all too well, which proved she was not above petty cruelties either.

“As amusing a diversion as this always proves to be, I do have matters to which I must attend.” She rearranged her dress slightly, flattening phantom creases and ensuring that it was as immaculate as she required, though very likely there wasn’t a thread where it shouldn’t be. “I must address the complications my absence might have caused while you delayed our congress.”

“No rest for the wicked, eh?” he smiled at the words, earning yet another cold and reproachful stare from her.

“Quite.” With a shudder of air and bent reality, she was gone.

He remained for some time after her departure, briefly entertaining the idea of breaking his promise and watching this world finally finish dying. Eventually he realized that she was right, and it would be more trouble than it was worth, though he despised having to admit that. He considered doing it anyways just out of spite for a few minutes more simply because he could. Shaking his head, he frowned as he twisted the wire into one last shape and stared at it thoughtfully.

“You know, she really is blind to the things right in front of her. Well… that’s why the next part is going to be so much fun.” He smiled and stared into the silhouette of an eye caught in the middle of a multi-pointed star. A tiny spark flickered into existence in the eye’s center and caught, blooming into full flame before the tongues of fire touched the wire and quickly began to devour the shape, consuming it entirely as he held it there. His hands caught as well, but he simply sat there until the fire had guttered into nothing.

Lifting a hand to his mouth, he blew the ash from his fingernails and polished them upon his coat, a predatory smile stretching his lips even as his features blurred and ran until the youth that had sat there moments before was replaced by a heavier and older gentleman. He reached into the interior of his jacket and pulled a hat from within and with a flick of his wrist, it popped open almost comically. He placed the top hat lightly upon his head and glanced around the cathedral one last time with unblinking eyes the color of jade.

It was very, very interesting to finally see these two together in the same place. The interaction between them just *crackles*. It's this really strange mix of Old Married Couple with Siskel & Ebert (if, you know, instead of reviewing movies, they had compared notes on smashing planes) with Mortal Enemies -- which, when I explain it like that, probably sounds really bad, but it works like nobody's business.

For example, I love the moment when The Duchess says (for the thousandth time, I'm guessing) that she is going to kill The Shifter one of these days, and he just fires back with "nah, you'd miss me to much. And she has to admit that he's right. (Not that she wouldn't kill him anyway, I think...)

Similarly, I love the idea that he thinks she ought to offer him a handicap to help even out the game. Again, it hits that bizarre relationship note, and it also drives home the fact that all this death and destruction really is just an abstract game to these people -- they're really in that Oldwalker zone. (Ditto being unable to remember the specifics of why they destroyed the plane, ditto The Shifter conceding that he's barely even keeping score at this point.) Similarly, when The Shifter has to concede that he thinks The Duchess has scored a real point on Jakkard. You see this kind of grudging respect between the two of them, but there's also just a whiff of the grudging handshake/"GG" after a game you were unhappy to lose. It's that push/pull that carries throughout the scene, and it's really effective.

And, again, I like how distinctly the two are characterized. They're both very artificial, but they are very different kinds of artificial. You have the kind of Uncanny Valley/Stepford Wife appearance of The Duchess on the one hand, versus the kind of manic performance art of The Shifter on the other. And, again, I like the little touch with how The Shifter seems to need to keep his hands moving more or less at all times -- although, the chosen subject matter for his Cats Cradle, combined with his choice of apparel at the end, makes me think that I will again be busting out my #multiversehatesberyl hashtag.

Plus, obviously, I like the little semi-referential line about "no rest for the wicked."

I do confess that I find myself very much hoping that The Duchess's plan to shatter the crystal ceiling comes to grief. One of the things I like so much about Jakkard is that the ceiling makes it harder sledding for 'walkers than on most planes. It gives the world a kind of uniqueness, makes it a place where 'walkers are a little more limited and the threats to them are a little more credible. I would be sad to lose that wrinkle.

I have a nagging feeling like I should recognize this island/cathedral? But darned if I can think of from where.

Knowing what you do after having read the story, if you reread the opening portions, does it change the way you perceive the island and what all those details mean? I tried my best not to give things away, but I was hoping that metaknowledge would make alter the way that all read.