Throughout the remainder of the morning into late afternoon, Jean stayed locked in his office. The fax machine was on for hours sending pictures, reports, and eyewitness accounts to him.

The attack had been a massacre. According to what little that was pulled from the handful of witnesses, all of whom had been a great distance away, Hobboilen appeared before the Richardson Hunters at their outpost in Missouri. It did nothing, apparently. Its mate, however, did everything. The pictures explained it all.

As if someone had played with their food, body parts laid strewn about far worse than what happened at Ridridge. Whereas those bodies were at least mostly intact, these were merely pieces. Eyeballs rolled in the wind. Entrails here. Half a severed head there. Detached, dangling jaws attached to a skull licked clean. Whole torsos pegged upon rifles stuck in the ground. The grass soaked with blood. The outpost was given a sanguine paint-job.

Jean sat at his desk with his head lowered, hands tangled in his hair. There were no visible traces of Will or Brønnild in any of the reports and pictures. He knew what had happened to them. It was easy to deduce going by what he had witnessed from other inhuman attacks.

He shut his eyes. All he could do was pray Will and his group weren't eaten while alive.

Wearily, he raised his head to look at the reports scattered on his table. The Richardson Hunters weren't the only ones killed. Coming to his fellow hunter's aid, Aaron Reznick also lost his life. The Reznick Hunters were hit hard, with only a handful of members left than there were before. To lose that many so shortly after the meeting, so shortly after seeing them, was a hard blow. It was fresh in the mind; it meant something to everyone, not just those who were friends or family.

For the moment, the real issue was cleanup after such a tragedy; the press, the witnesses. Jean wanted to help, but it wasn't his territory. The South Central region of Clovure was a large area with several numbers of hunters stationed therein. There would be plenty of help, but that wasn't Jean's reason. Will was a friend.

The soft jingling of a collar brought his attention to the door. Exhaling through his nose, he stood and approached. He opened it to see Basker sitting patiently, sad green eyes looking up at him.

He stared.

The dog stared back.

Relenting, Jean moved aside and beckoned the dog in.

He closed the door and turned around. Celezar stood over the desk, staring at the paperwork and pictures. "I'm sorry, Jean."

Slowly, Jean approached. While he looked at the images and reading the reports, it was easy to remain detached, act as if it was just another inhuman attack. But his mate's simple words brought all his emotions to the forefront. His throat began to clench, but he fought through it.

"The life of a hunter," he said in a monotone voice.

"No one should die like this."

"Hunters die like this all the time."

Slightly turning his head to see him, a somber expression clouded Celezar's face. "That doesn't change the tragedy."

Jean shut his eyes as they began to sting and water. His words had left his mouth unthinkingly. Arms went around him, enveloping in the smell and warmth of his mate.

It was indeed the life of a hunter to lose friends in gruesome ways. It was inevitable in their line of work. But Celezar was right. That knowledge didn't make the loss any better or any less of a tragedy.

He grasped tightly onto Celezar as he slowly broke down after hours of bottling his emotions. Of all the ways anyone could possibly die, no one deserved that, no good person. The awareness hurt. The realization was worse. His heart ached, and his cries became laced with anger.

He was familiar with the feeling of losing a loved one to an inhuman. Not like this. Never like this. His heart went out for Trevor, who lost a sister. Tori, Will's head technician, was his twin. The man went into near hysterics when he heard the news. It wasn't so much that it happened. It was how it happened. He was on bereavement leave; he didn't even need to request it. Jean let him leave the moment he received the news.

Gently, Jean moved away from his mate, forcibly calming down. When a look of concern was given to him, he made a reassuring nod. Wiping his eye, he moved to and opened the door. The anteroom was empty. Basker followed him as he walked downstairs. Softly exhaling, he entered the dining room.

His men were present and relatively quiet. Musa, Nicholae and Verne sat on the couches against the walls. By how Raphael was slumped on the table, he was drunk. Butch sat beside him, a hand on his back. The twins were staring off at nothing as they sat at the table. Friedrich and Artie turned to look at Jean and had been conversing softly.

Hugh stood from where he had been sitting and approached to embraced Jean. Closing his eyes, Jean accepted the long hug. His left eye stung, but he couldn't manage tears again. Moving to sit at the table with a stein in hand, Gulliver was joined by Calvin. Both men appeared painfully despondent, their faces drawn and expressionless. Sarkis stood against the wall, his head lowered.

Calvin cast a glance at Jean, and as Jean moved from his brother-in-law's embrace, he nodded. Calvin stood and moved to stand behind the bar to prepare a drink.

Standing before them all, Jean turned his microphone on. "I leave for Kansas to meet Crowley tomorrow, 0630 hours sharp." To Nicholae, he said, "You're coming."

The older man inclined his head. "Sent," he said softly.

Jean approached the bar and took up the small shot glass with only five ounce's worth of alcohol in it. He stared at the glass for a moment. To you, Will, and your group, he thought. May you find peace.

Closing his eyes, he downed the drink.

*    *    *

Jean looked out a window the next early morning to watch the airstrip as his jet landed. It was roughly a two-hour flight to Kansas, but he didn't fall asleep this time. His thoughts were quiet. Uncomfortably so.

Beside him in the front of the jet sat Nicholae, who was reading a book. Like Jean, he remained quiet during most of the flight. That was only one more thing to add to Jean's mental mixed bag. What was going through his uncle's mind?

After they landed they walked through the Lander Airport, a long structure accessed by several paved, winding roads, some of which overlapped with overpasses. Just to get to the main entrance from the inside would have taken ten minutes or more. Leaving the airstrip, they hauled their duffel bags over their shoulders and entered the airport.

Passing security, they searched for a sign with their name on it. Jean had told Alister the approximate time they would have arrived, so he somewhat expected the man to have made it to the airport early.

Sure enough and rather shortly, above heads a myriad of colors and textures, they saw a sign that read, "Lowell." They approached. As they neared, and through the small sea of people at the waiting area, a man became visible standing beside another holding the sign.

It was Alister, who spotted them immediately. "Jean," he greeted once they were close enough. He nodded at Nicholae. "Redfield."

Nicholae returned the gesture, but his eye was on the young man at Alister's side.

The man appeared to be younger than them all at maybe twenty, twenty-five years old. "It's an honor to meet you two," he said while lowering and folding the sign. "My name is Caelum. I'm Alister's apprentice."

Jean gave a respectful nod. "Pleasure to meet you."

Alister moved aside with his hand out. "Shall we? It's a long ride to Etheraven."

Adjusting his bag, Jean glanced at his uncle as they followed Alister and Caelum. Nicholae's expression was neutral, at ease. Looking forward, Jean mentally thanked his judgement for bringing Nicholae with him. He was of the mind that none of his other men would be so willing to come with him to "find" Celezar—except maybe Musa, who was recovering from his operation.

Once they exited the airport from the secondary entrance, they met a small brown shuttlecar with its top lowered. The driver was already waiting outside the vehicle, and she flashed a smile at them.

"I can take your luggage," she said to Jean and Nicholae.

Jean hesitated for only a moment. He had an inkling she was also inhuman. Wordlessly, he handed her his bag. Nicholae did the same, giving Jean the impression his uncle shared his thoughts. She hauled their bags, whistling to herself all the while. As she put the luggage in the side compartment, the four men boarded the vehicle. She followed shortly after. Without delay, they drove from the airport.

Jean found himself relaxing the moment they departed. He settled back in the seat, briefly closing his eyes as the wind blew in his face. As they were within the city, distant tall buildings soared above the rest, including the airport itself. He was looking forward to open dirt roads and hinterlands.

After almost an hour, he began to feel better at the sight of open, moderately hilled land. Rolling landscape or flat land was always his ideal scenery, be it grass or dirt. It was synonymous with freedom, in his mind. Freedom and opportunity, adventure and the unknown. Clovure's subcountries were full of such lands.

He looked further ahead through the large front window. They were approaching what appeared to be the foot of a small mountain among several others, slightly reminding him of the Memorraw. He could just spot what at first looked like a massive fortress at the mountains' middle. From their distance, it seemed to be three stories tall.

As they came closer, he could make out the details of large wooden doors at the front. By the time they neared the mountain's base, it became apparent by the light of the setting moon that there was a lengthy staircase made of stone leading from the base of the mountain to the large wooden doors of the haven.

He almost balked. It wasn't very accessible.

The driver stopped them at the foot of the mountain and opened the shuttle doors before the staircase. She exited before they did to open the shuttle's side compartment. Once they were on the ground, she smiled, handing them their luggage. "Enjoy your visit."

"You're inhuman too, aren't you?" Jean asked, taking his bag.

She laughed. "I couldn't be doing this if I wasn't." She reentered the shuttle, then waved at them before driving off.

 Only when she was gone did Jean feel just a bit vulnerable. Turning, he followed Alister and Caelum up the staircase with Nicholae behind him.

Nothing was said during the climb. Jean only marveled at the height the higher they went. Nicholae seemed to do the same, admiring the view. The small brown dot of the shuttle kicked up a dust trail as it moved along.

By the time they reached the top, the once three-inch high walls of the haven were the size of three-story buildings. The walls were made of stone, had watchtowers that looked as if they were still in use and the doors were made of heavyweight wood and iron, by the looks of them. Despite its old-world appearance, there were solar panels atop some visible roofs.

Above the main door was a large wooden sign that read, Etheraven. Coming to the doors, they saw a woman also dressed like a hunter, her arms crossed and observing them closely.

"Sisek," Alister said to her, beckoning to Nicholae and Jean, "these are our guests, Nicholae Redfield and Jean-Luc Lowell."

She nodded at them with a quiet hum, and then turned to easily push the door behind her open with a single hand.

Clearly, she wasn't human, either.

"Thank you, Sisek." Alister beckoned his guests forward before walking in first with Caelum behind him.

Nicholae and Jean exchanged looks before shifting their bags and walking inside.

It was indeed a small town of its own with buildings no higher than three stories, but he could easily make out a temple, stores, and other such locations. All light came from lanterns and torches placed everywhere as far as the eye could see. They stood within a sort of market square, complete with a fountain at its center. The ground was not paved but instead healthy grass with some dirt paths leading to and fro. It was difficult to believe they were atop a mountain.

Several houses were visible further in, and in the very distance of the town, easily seen by the road that went straight through, another set of doors was visible on the opposite side. In stark contrast to the architecture of the haven's walls, the few people who walked around and in and out the doors dressed in various clothing styles. Some were at least a hundred years or so behind modern styles, some were stranger than anything Jean had ever seen before, and that wasn't even counting those who were clearly inhuman.

"Where are we, exactly?" Jean asked Alister while looking around.

"A place where no one cares what you are, so long as you're peaceful," Alister responded, allowing them a moment.

He then led them further into the town past several temples of different religions, homes, stores, and more. No one minded their presence, not even the adults who were doing activities, walking about, or talking in small groups. The buildings were close together, giving way for many alleys and shortcuts, but were also well kept. The whole town was clean and welcoming.

For all its old-world charm, it had some small modern gems like solar panels, mechanisms that ran by either solar power or cogs and gears. Jean was almost certain there could be phones in some buildings, which would mean there were radio towers and other transmitters and receivers somewhere.

"It is early," Alister said as they walked. To Nicholae and Jean he asked, "Have you two eaten, yet?"

"A small breakfast," Jean admitted.

Alister pointed towards a building a bit ahead and to the right. "If you wish, there is a nearby tavern where you can eat or you can wait until we arrive at the Hall."

Jean glanced at his uncle, who shook his head. Agreeing, he replied, "We can wait."

Continuing, they passed the tavern, apparently called Arden's House. In the near distance, a large structure became visible. It was wide with what appeared to be four wings and could be mistaken for a university.

When they arrived, Jean raised a brow at how different it was. It was the largest building in the entire town and was styled in a manner he had never seen before. It was otherworldly, colored black and red with strange curling designs as a sort of signature appearance. The rails on the staircases and ramps leading inside had swirled ends, the posts were upside-down swirls, and so forth. Despite that, it was beautiful in its own unique way.

"This is the Hall," Alister explained as they walked up the stairs. "It's somewhat of a town hall but is also where important meetings with emissaries and important persons are held. Simultaneously, it also acts as a special sort of boarding house."

"Emissaries and dignitaries?" Nicholae asked.

"Yes. They are the inhuman kind."

"I see."

They passed through wooden doors that automatically opened and entered a large, beautiful lobby—if not a bit of an uncanny one the same time. Like the outside, it held the same strange swirl designs along with strange artwork reminding Jean of something out of a dark fairytale.

"Why so dark?" he asked somewhat humorously while looking around.

Casting him an amused, understanding look, Alister explained, "It's a bit of something that the original creator of Etheraven made many hundreds of years ago. In fact, this entire building was constructed with demonic and hallow aesthetic influence."

"Hallow?" Nicholae asked.

There were two curled staircases at the inner sides of the lobby leading to the second floor. Behind the staircases in the back of the building, Jean caught sight of a large open sitting room where some curiously dangerous-looking persons were sitting. Eyes that were entirely inhuman glanced over in their direction, lingered, and then looked away. Jean slightly frowned, then glanced at Nicholae.

His uncle glanced back at him. He saw them, too.

As Alister led them up the staircase, Caelum explained, "Hallows are a unique kind of inhuman. They're very powerful, sometimes even moreso than devils."

Nicholae's eye went wide, and he slightly shuddered at the thought. Jean kept his gaze forward.

"What do they look like?" he asked.

"Anything they want to, practically."

"Including human form, yes?"

"Naturally."

"Are there hallows here?"

Caelum scratched his head, glancing away. "Ahh...well, actually most of the people here are either hallow, demon, fey, mahres, or hybrids." He made a sheepish smile. "I'm part-hallow, myself."

Nicholae slowly nodded but seemed to retreat into his own thoughts since he went silent. Jean was surprised he didn't even ask what a mahre was.

At the top of the staircase, there were two more staircases going down in the corners of the front hall and another two behind them going up. The whole structure was unusual, but Jean didn't bother asking questions. At least, not questions like that.

Before he could ask, however, Alister said, "You two have reserved rooms in the upper west wing where the guests are. After you place your bags inside, we can get right to discussing what you came for, if you like."

"We'd appreciate that," said Jean.

Caelum caught Alister's attention, pointing into another direction. "I'm going to see if we received any more of an idea on where Zelezh'arryel's hiding," he said, beginning to walk towards one of the corner staircases.

"While you're about, please bring Majihl this way, if he's available," said his mentor.

"Alright. See you around, gentlemen." Caelum gave a casual salute before walking away.

Alister beckoned them forward, and Jean and Nicholae were taken down an open, wide hall with doors along both sides of the walls. He brought them to the near-center of the hall and beckoned to two doors. To Jean's surprise, one had his full name on the identification plaque and Nicholae's other across from it.

Motioning to them at his sides, Alister handed them a key each. "These are for you."

Jean took his and observed it with a raised brow. It looked like a black skeleton key, but the teeth were shaped differently.

"I'll wait for you out here," Alister said, placing his hands behind his back.

"Thank you." Nicholae then nudged his chin towards the other doors. "We have neighbors?"

"In fact, you do." Pointing to the door at the left of Jean's, he said, "This is Sisek's room." He pointed to the door to the right of Nicholae's. "Caelum's room."

Jean glanced at Sisek's door. He had a strange feeling about the woman they saw at the door to Etheraven. He then nodded at Alister and turned to open his door.

He was greeted with the smell of wood and the sight of opened curtains over two windows in a modest-sized space with brown, black and blue accents. His lips spread into a small smile and he idly wondered if it was somehow known that his favorite color was blue or if it was mere coincidence. He entered and placed his bag atop a full-sized bed. There would be time to admire the room later, so he returned to the hall.

Alister was leaning against the small space between Jean's room and Sisek's. He gave him a small smile. "I hope we manage to get you allies, Jean."

"So do I," Jean said softly, just as Nicholae exited his room.

Moving off the wall, Alister exhaled. "We will be meeting everyone in the Commons."

He once more led the way. They left the hall and returned downstairs, where he explained along the way was where all of the "administrative" work happened. They walked down an even wider hallway to the upper-left of the downstairs area, passing the seating space Jean and Nicholae saw the other inhumans sitting earlier. This hall also had doors along the walls, only there was at least a room's size of space between them. Hanging signs indicating what the rooms were used for were placed above the doors in clear view for anyone to see from afar.

The room they neared had the sign "Commons Room" above it. Nicholae hummed. "Wouldn't we have a meeting in a conference room?" he asked.

Sighing, Alister explained, "Yes, but in this case, we're dealing with characters that are better off in a room with a more relaxed atmosphere. 'Official' things tend to make them skittish."

"Ah..." Nicholae slightly frowned.

As did Jean. He braced himself as Alister opened the door.

Immediately, several pairs of eyes landed on them. Jean would have tensed from how cornered his and Nicholae's positions seemed, but Alister left the door open behind them and there was a massive window at the end of the space that was open, bringing in fresh air.

Sitting on various forms of comfortable upholsteries in the room were several individuals that were unfamiliar to Jean. Each of them were displaying inhuman traits: tails, claws, pointed ears, tusks, and horns. He quickly looked over them all, then spotted one familiar face amongst their numbers.

Standing in the center of the room were two people, one much shorter than the other. The shorter man was maybe an entire foot smaller than his companion. Said other man looked up at them with familiar green eyes that flashed when they locked with Jean's.

Immediately, Jean felt a small flush of warmth run through his body at the sight of his mate.

"Ah, Alister. Jean-Luc Lowell. Nicholae Redfield. Welcome," said the short man, turning away from Celezar to give them a bright and kind smile. His eyes were completely white save for a black ring around his iris. He neared them and beckoned them inside. "Welcome to Etheraven. My name is Majihloghr. Call me Majihl."

"Thank you." Jean walked inside with an assured stride. He heard Nicholae walking behind him.

Majihl beckoned to the bergères closest to the door. "Please, feel free to sit or stand. Whatever is comfortable."

Jean considered for a moment. Admittedly, he felt a bit daring with Celezar near, but he wasn't going to be foolish. He was simply of the mind that he could display a serious, unfazed demeanor more confidently.

It was strange...

With that in mind, he moved to sit in one of the bergères further in. It wasn't too much farther from the ones closest to the door, but just enough so that the inhumans inside understood he wasn't about to be intimidated by them. As if knowing exactly what he was doing, Nicholae moved to stand beside him and crossed his arms. As Jean sat, he swept his gaze about the room's inhabitants once more.

At least one eyebrow on two different faces rose, some lips spread into smirks and impressed grins.

Jean knew what he was doing.

One face that did not change, however, was Celezar's. In fact, the moment Jean and his uncle began to walk inside, Celezar turned and walked deeper into the room to sit beside someone else. Then, the hybrid's eyes stared off at anything but Jean.

He was putting up a good act. Jean intended to put on a good one as well.