Thayna was escorted into a long chamber deep within Mordrell’s red mansion, similar to Farum’s ivory terrace. The mage accompanying her was the same tall, purple-robed, fur scarfed announcer of the Crushworks on the first day of Thayna’s arrival. She was all smiles receiving Farum’s representative, but Thayna wondered if deep inside she was just as blackhearted as the purveyors of the Crushworks must have been.

“Lady Marietta will see you now,” The mage said with a smooth, cool voice. Thayna straightened herself, trying to look as regal as she possibly can, and gave a queenly nod with the words, “Very well.”

The mage opened a large set of doors; large enough that even a mage tip-toed and reaching up would not scrape the top of its bronze frame. What lie beyond must be why this place was called the red mansion. Red splatters drenched the inside of the dark room, a strong coppery smell emanating from within. Though Thayna did not see bodies, she had almost no doubt that this was human blood. The other end of the room was dark, but Thayna could tell that the perpetrator was waiting there, seated.

“Ah, my dear Farum,” Marietta said from beyond the darkness, “Do help me light my torches, I do so loathe the bright of day, but it would be brazen of me to not even greet my guest properly.”

It was a test. Marietta must have heard of Thayna's newfound power, and wanted to confirm it firsthand. So be it, Thayna thought to herself.

With a flick of her wrist, Thayna conjured a small flame in her palm. It flickered for a moment before flinging itself to the nearest torch, setting ablaze the flammable bud and shedding the first modicums of light into the room. One by one, Thayna ignited the torches, concentrating as hard as she can to keep the tiny channel of magic from erupting into a massive fireball like back in Farum, until the room was completely lit.

Marietta the Vampire. She was lying down lazily on her copper throne, head resting on one armrest and legs drooping over the other. True to her name, she had curls of platinum blonde hair, accompanied by a pair of brilliant crimson red eyes which shone brightly in the dark, drawing attention away from the scandalous but opulent, gem-studded clothes she wore, if you could call them clothes at all. She was pale all over, giving doubt to whether she had any blood in her at all, but she bore her body in stark glory, her large bust and curvaceous figure bursting through the feeble red fabric that was clad against her.

Thayna took out a damp cloth from a small pouch she carried with her and recalled her flame back to her hand. She wrapped the cloth around the flame, extinguishing it with a sizzle in her clenched fist. Without John, Thayna had difficulty dispelling her own spells, and had to resort to more primitive methods of controlling her power. As she put away the cloth, Thayna saw Marietta give a wide smile. Doubtless, she had seen how much of a novice Thayna still was at the whole magic thing, and continued to watch with amusement as Thayna made her way forward.

“Lady Marietta,” Thayna said in the best formal voice she could muster, bowing just a few steps away from where Marietta was sitting, about a hundred feet in human terms, “I am Thayna Farum, daughter of Thelina Farum and newly appointed envoy from our humble land. I thank you for this audience.”

Marietta stared blankly at Thayna for a long moment, then burst out laughing, rolling about uncontrollably on her throne. “My, such stiff speech!” Marietta exclaimed as she tried fruitlessly to hold back her giggling, “I thought you’d be much more feisty than your mother, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

Marietta continued her laughter; more of a cackle really; but slowly regained her composure. Thayna, still bowed down, grit her teeth in secret, cursing how little Marietta treated her seriously. But if she wanted to get even a word across to the Vampire now, she had to bear with her abuse for now.

“Ah ha, do forgive me, love,” Marietta said as she wiped a tear from her eye, “But Farum’s customs and antics do keep me so entertained. You are in Mordrell now, and we mages treat each other as we would friends or sisters. There are no formalities between us, and we are all equal under my dominion. Even the Markless ones have a place in my society, where they are shunned elsewhere.”

Marietta crossed her legs and looked haughtily at Thayna, a sly grin stretched across her face. “Wouldn’t you say this is the perfect country to live in?” She said in a mocking tone.

Thayna kept a straight face. She knew Marietta was trying to rile her; she must have been tipped off on Thayna’s intentions for coming here. Thayna was prepared for this much, however, and ignored Marietta’s prattling. There was no reason to play her game; Thayna only had one thing to do here.

“With all due respect,” Thayna said, keeping her tone as neutral as she could, “But shouldn’t that courtesy be extended to your Numbered citizens as well?”

Another smile on Marietta’s face. “The little ones,” she said with venomous delight, “Aren’t considered citizens here. They’re nothing more than leeches whose only good is to supply us mages with magic. Their bodies may be small, but the sheer audacity for them to live amongst us in such great numbers make them nothing better than pests in our society. Every breath they take from us would be better served given to a mage, wouldn’t you say?”

Thayna said nothing. She could feel a seething rage rumbling somewhere within her, but what she needed to do most of all was to keep herself under control.

“But to kill them outright and slay any who refuse to stay,” Thayna said, the anger within completely silent in her words, “Surely there must be a better way? If it is resources you are worried about, deporting your unwanted Numbered to Farum would-”

Marietta held up a hand to silence Thayna. She lifted her legs off of the armrests of her throne and shifted herself into a more proper seating position, her bare legs crossed and her chin held lazily still in her hand. Her wide grin had rescinded into a more mellow smirk, and it was obvious to Thayna she was beginning to take her more seriously now.

“Little Farum,” Marietta said, her crimson eyes piercing Thayna with intense scrutiny, “Do you mean to deliberately deprive the largest population of mages of its magic? If we were to release even a single Numbered now, the rest would simply follow in its wake. Mordrell will take this as a hostile attack from your nation.”

Thayna froze up a bit. This escalated much too quickly. It bugged her too that Marietta was still smiling, albeit with much of her mirth gone from her expression now. Just got to take this diplomatically, Thayna thought to herself.

“I mean no offense, Lady Marietta,” Thayna said, hoping she didn’t hesitate too long thinking up a reply, “I was merely interested in the state of affairs of Mordrell in regards to the humans, and wished only to offer my assistance.”

Marietta gave a little pout, seeing Thayna recover so quickly from her attack. It occurred to Thayna that she really was nothing more than entertainment for Marietta, and that all she was doing here was falling on deaf ears. She couldn’t just keep acting coy around the Vampire; she had to act as well.

“However,” Thayna said, borrowing her sister Tharsia’s stern voice, “I do not take kindly to being treated so lightly. I carry the word of the Farums, and it would be a grave transgression if you would not listen.”

Marietta’s face grew blank, her eyes considering Thayna for a moment before replying, “Is that...a threat?”

Thayna’s own eyes flared up, her rage finally seeping through and twisting her expression into one of silent fury, “It can and will be,” was all she said.

Marietta squinted her eyes at Thayna; seeing her flare up has changed the mood in the chamber drastically. Thayna kept her stare locked on Marietta, and the two drilled holes into each other as their eyes sent sparks flying across the room. There was a tense silence as the two refused to budge, and Thayna felt a bead of sweat roll down her face from the effort of maintaining her rage, composure and fear in check, all at the same time.

It was then Marietta’s face loosened, and she covered her mouth with a hand, stifling snicker. It all became too much to bear, however, and she let out a boisterous laughter which sent her barrelling about in her seat. The sudden outburst only made Thayna confused and more angrier, but she wasn’t sure what to do from here.

“Oh, little Farum,” Marietta said through her laughter, “You are such a delight to have here. I thought you easy to scare with a few words like my other guests, but you’ve certainly got your mother’s fire. The Azure Flame herself would be proud that you’ve inherited her rashness.”

Thayna wasn’t sure at all about how to take those words, but Marietta saved her the trouble.

“I like you, Thayna Farum,” Marietta said with her usual, devilish smile, “And for that, I’ll let you in on a little secret. The treatment of the Numbered? The annual Crushworks I organize in my city?”

Marietta stood up, turning her back to Thayna, and with a free hand grabbing onto one side of her buttocks, revealing an intricately decorated black circle on her left rump under the unapologetically short film of fabric that made up her skirt. Thayna saw a very gothic theme to Marietta’s circle, with bat wings and skeletal engravings etched across the circumference of the mage mark. A pentagram was drawn within the circle, and runes traced along the lines depicting spells of great power on Marietta’s surface.

“It was all for me,” Marietta said with a grin, “I was given my nickname of Vampire succinctly, for my mark is special in its own way. The key to my mark...is death.”

Thayna stiffened. She was suddenly reminded of the blood spatters at the entrance of the room.

“But you…” Thayna began, “You’re one of the most powerful mages on the continent. How could you possibly get enough people to fuel your magic if you have to kill them?!”

“Humans are such curious creatures, don’t you think?” Marietta said offhandedly, ignoring Thayna’s death glare, “They have such tenacity when it comes to survival, even if it meant that their own kind was dying around them. I go out my way to take as many of their lives as I could reasonably reap, but no matter how many I kill, their numbers never seem to dwindle. That was when I began organizing the humans of Mordrell into the Numbered, and counted them as I fed them to my mark. And the most curious thing I found was that even though their life expectancy was greatly diminished, this actually drove them to reproduce faster. Through death, I whipped up the humans into a breeding frenzy, desperate to leave a seed before their inevitable and gruesome end. This worked out nicely for me, as my source of magic energy never seemed to dwindle, no matter how much I tried.”

“And so you made the Crushworks…” Thayna whispered loudly.

“Indeed!” Marietta said, her face brightening up at seeing Thayna come to understanding, “I knew opposition from even pro-mage countries would eventually make their way here, as I was wasting valuable sources of magic in the eyes of other nations. So I tried a variety of excuses, but the Crushworks seemed to draw the most support, so I went along with it and established it as a sport and a necessity to Mordrell.”

“But…” Thayna said, conspicuously aggravated, “What could possibly warrant so much magic if all you do is laze around in this room all day?!”

Marietta snapped her fingers, and a mage ambled into the room instantly. She herded a group of humans on the floor in with her foot, pushing them through the doorway. She commanded them to march toward Marietta, and they obeyed out of fear.

As Thayna watched the little men brush past her feet, she noted that these humans were not numbered, but rather, there was a large, angry scar across where their Number would have been. The group of unNumbered came to a stop before Marietta's throne, and prostrated themselves before her.

"My magic is quite costly, you see," Marietta explained casually as she reached down to pick a man up, "Its power is to control Life itself; to birth inorganic beings or prolong and heal the already living. Isn't the dichotomy of my magic and my Mark just fascinating?"

Marietta teased the human she held in her hand by playfully nibbling his head, the man in turn screaming incessantly. "But I haven't told you what I do with my power yet, now have I?" She said with a grin. She leaned conspiratorially towards Thayna and whispered loudly, "Immortality. I have been channeling my magic into myself, ensuring that my youth and beauty never wavered. But even with the vast reservoir of life pooled within me, my youth would inevitably run out. Much of my work as a mage was to find the secret to eternal youth, to no avail..."

Marietta stopped her nibbling and stood up, taking a step precariously close to the remaining humans beneath her. She dropped the man she held onto her copper throne, ignoring the crunch as the bones in his body snapped from the force of his fall. Cries of pain emanated behind Marietta, but she only smiled at Thayna's startled face when she realized what the Vampire was about to do.

"Until I find it," Marietta said in a sneer, "The lives of men shall fuel my immortality."

Marietta wiggled her butt mischievously, adjusting herself so that her Mark was right above the unNumbered man. The man let out a crazed scream just as the titanic bottom began lowering itself, filling his entire peripheral vision with the rounded rump descending upon him. The dress was too short to cover anything, and the smooth surface of the rambunctious bottom pressed into the hapless man, smothering him from all sides in all their bare glory.

As Marietta felt the man under her squirm, she slowly sat up straight, applying her full weight upon the fragile human body, delighting as his bones collapsed beneath her gargantuan weight. Bits of blood sprayed across the surface of the throne, and with a final, hideous, crunching noise, the man gave way to the encroaching mass completely, flattened under Marietta's giant buttock. All that remained was the red grime slathered upon where Marietta sat.

"Yes..." Marietta sighed as she felt a rush of magic energy flow through her, "Humans die with such whimsical grace, do they not?"

With a flick of her fingers, Marriette spoke a wordless spell and forced the remaining Numbered to their feet. She gave them a quick glance and counted eleven standing before her. With a devilish smile, she spread her arms out and proclaimed to them loudly, "Rejoice, my tiny subjects, for you will be first in line for my city's festival! Those unbranded are the first to enter the Crushworks, and any who survive will be granted freedom from Mordrell’s walls!"

None of the humans looked thrilled to be fighting for their lives at the Crushworks. They knew that with the stacked odds, the rate of fatality was always certainly one-hundred percent.

A sudden burst of fire exploded near Marietta's head, and the Vampire tilted her head towards Thayna in amusement. "Oh ho?" Marietta sneered.

"Let them go," Thayna said in a deathly calm voice, her arm raised against Marietta.

"Oh, do grow up," Marietta said dismissively, "A chick who had just begun wandering out of her nest has no place fighting me. Do you honestly think you stand a chance while I'm in my seat of power?"

Thayna kept her arm suspended in the air in silent defiance, but relented from attacking further.

"Besides," Marietta continued, casually whisking away the stain left by the man on her throne with a magical gesture, "You're directing your little righteousness at the wrong group of Numbered."

Thayna wasn't about to believe what this Vampire was about to tell her, but her ears were nonetheless attentive.

"Only Numbered who are condemned by law are unbranded," Marietta said, reclining back into her throne, "And get instant priority in the queue to the Crushworks. They're all killers, thieves and adulterers, I assure you, and not one of them are worth saving. Mordrell cleans up after its own, afterall."

Marietta let out a sly grin as she threw her arms behind her head. "Of course, I'm sure you'd be more interested in this afternoon's announcement," she continued, "They are truly this year's misfortunate ones."

Thayna perked up at this. More participants were going to be announced later in the day, at the same venue where she first heard of the Crushworks.

"If I can't stop you," Thayna declared, "Then I'll stop your little festival instead."

Marietta let out a shrill, high-pitched laugh, kicking her legs into the air as she let out guffaw after overblown guffaw. "Then I look forward to it, daughter of Farum!" she said while howling with laughter.

Thayna was apprehensive, chancing a question with the vampire, "You won't interfere?"

"Why would I?" Marietta sniggered, "I've already had my fill, and I've not been this amused since I was but a petite little girl. You'll make for fine entertainment, girl."

Marietta looked at Thayna hungrily, like a wolf cornering a lost lamb. But Thayna was anything but. She stood her ground and dared herself to talk back against the Vampire once.

"Just speaking hypothetically," Thayna said with crystalline calm, "But even if I don't stop the Crushworks, you'll stop the killing as long as you've found an alternative source of power to your immortality?"

"If you can find it," Marietta said with a casual shrug, holding her lofty expression only for a moment before returning to her crazed cackling as Thayna turned around to leave.

John hurt. His body was a mess of bruises and he smelt like somebody else's feet. In fact, it felt like somebody else's feet was in indeed on him, and only the sudden jerking of Silestria's toes shook him awake.

"Hmm, up and about, are we?" Silestria intoned above John. He was no longer in her shoe, and Silestria's massive figure towered over him, seated on a mage-sized bench while her feet rested on his miniscule body. They were in a square in the city, where other mages roamed around, completely indifferent to John’s plight.

"Gah-" John complained as he felt the oppressive weight above him agitating his wounds. He mustered a few words through his agony, "How am I still alive...?"

"A foolish question," Silestria said, "A mage of Thamond knows only to discipline her charge, not to slay them."

"Discipline?" John groaned.

"To imply the fault in my weight is a punishable slight," Silestria lectured John, "And I saw fit to educate you."

Silestria bent down closer to the ground, casting a large shadow over John, her face now hanging over John like a cululonimbus cloud in an overcast sky. Her short silver hair twinkled in the dim light, and her bright blue eyes became dazzling crystals which scintillated the meager rays of sun which streamed through the thin gaps of her bangs. John was so mesmerized that for a moment, he forgot that he was still underneath the warm folds of Silestria's sole.

"You fainted part way, it would seem," Silestria remarked as she looked John down from her vantage point, "I suppose that that would suffice as punishment for your transgression."

Just because you thought I called you fat? John thought incredulously to himself. He mentally shook his head as the great weight on his chest rescinded. Silestria took her foot off of John and slipped them back into her felt black flats, which John had been prisoner of for who knows how long. A thought occurred to him.

"H-how did I survive in there?" John asked Silestria, observing how thin the sole of the shoe was, "Your shoe couldn't possibly have kept me from being killed as your footsteps grinded me into your heel."

"A redundant question," Silestria answered as she picked the many times smaller John up easily onto her lap, "I already said I'm not here to kill you. Needless to say, I've taken precautions so that you'd only feel discomfort under my protection."

Silestria reached behind her and produced her cobalt blue wand again. She drew a few wisps of light in the air and they arranged themselves into a multitude of arcane patterns completely foreign to John.

"I've enchanted the space you occupy to warp you to whichever shoe was lifted off the ground," Silestria explained, pulsing the patterns in rhythmic fashion much like her footsteps, "And if I were standing with both feet on the ground, you'd sink into a shallow dimension where you'd be straddled against my sole, but non-fatally. Of course, you weren’t completely immune to its side effects, hence the fainting."

John tried to comprehend what he heard. "Who..." John said incredulously, "Who would create such complex magic...just to turn people into...into footwear?!"

Silestria smiled at the sight of John squirming. "Surprised, little man?" She said, "Your kind's place in the world is underfoot beneath us, but the Mistglenn take it literally; they want your kind to be bound to their feet permanently."

John just stared ahead, aghast. "But...why?" John continued to press, "To treat us as if we were mere apparel, what could they possibly gain?"

"The Mistglenn are an odd bunch," Silestria admitted, "And it is their belief that presses them to corral humans into their shoes, but it's not all bad."

John raised a doubtful brow.

"An important part of their belief," Silestria continued, "Is that the humans must  willing give in to them. If they had to force them into their service, then it would tarnish the purity of their submission...so it goes, at least."

"What about those who refuse?" John inquired.

Silestria gave an indifferent shrug. "Life goes on," she replied, "And they live under the rule of the Mistglenn mages instead of under their feet. But if it were me, Mistglenn sounds a great deal better for your kind then Mordrell."

John couldn't argue with that. At least it sounded like they weren't actively trying to kill their inhabitants over there.

Before their discussion could proceed any further, a bell rang out nearby. The flow of the streets suddenly changed direction as every mage in the vicinity began making their way towards the bell.

Curious, the John and Silestria followed, and found the crowd had stopped at the same place he and Thayna had heard the announcement of the Crushworks. It must already be time for the announcements.

John looked around. There was no sign of Thayna.

The crowd suddenly cheered as a familiar looking mage dressed in purple and furs stepped out from a balcony and knocked her staff against her throat. A spark of light gave away that she had cast a spell on herself, and her voice boomed across the entire district.

"Magisters!" The mage announced to the crowd below, "Whimsical denizens of Mordrell! The time you have been waiting for has come! Today we shall announce those who shall participate in this year's annual Crushworks! Without further ado, I shall read out the Numbers!"

"Five twenty!" The announcer exclaimed. There was a brief cheer from the other side of the crowd. John remembered Katie's Number to be eleven eighty, and breathed a small sigh of relief himself.

As the numbers continued to be read out, John, from the vantage point of Silestria's shoulder, saw a couple of mages beside them holding their Numbered in their hands, reading their brand eagerly like they were expecting prizes at a fair. "Hey, Silestria," John said, tugging at Silestria’s loose bang beside him, "What exactly are the mages so excited abou-"

A massive force flung itself across John's side, almost unseating him from Silestria's shoulder if he wasn't already holding on to her. Stunned, John reeled as the pain from his time in Silestria’s shoe resurfaced, and could only vaguely make out Silestria's hand hovering in front of him. She had slapped him across his body.

"Don't you dare pull my hair again, curr," Silestria snarled, "And to answer your question, I am not all too well versed in the details, but having your Numbered sent off to the Crushworks awards the owner a hefty compensation, it would seem."

John nursed the blunt pain he had just received and continued watching. So it's all part of the festivities, it would seem. No wonder why everybody seemed so excited here.

All at the expense of the Numbered, of course, John thought bitterly to himself. He could only shake his head as the announcer shouted a "nine forty-eight!", sending another part of the crowd into a celebratory frenzy.

"Worried about your little sweetheart, hmm?" Silestria said to a jaded looking John.

"No, I..." John wanted to protest, but he felt suddenly too tired to argue again, "...yeah, I guess I am."

Silestria said nothing, and turned back to the announcer. "Eight sixty!" she shouted, and another mage in the back squealed in jubilation as her Numbered was chosen.

"If it's all the same to you," Silestria whispered to John, "I find this quite revolting as well."

John looked up, surprised. He didn't take Silestria for the kind to care. "You don't support them?" John asked.

"Hmph," Silestria said with a grumpy harumph, "I could name a dozen ways for humans to still be useful to us alive, and the pragmatic benefits of a functional human colony integrated with a mage's."

"Oh," John said, disappointed. Mages didn't think human as equals or even significant, it seems. Another shout from the announcer, "Twelve thirteen!" and another mage went jumping up and down in glee.

"...And I suppose," Silestria added hesitantly, "Nobody should die without cause. Not even humans."

John was silent as he let Silestria’s words soak in. Finally, he absently remarked, “Thamond must be a nice place.”

“Perhaps,” Silestria cooed.

“Seventeen O-eight!” The announcer shouted. The two mages John saw beside them broke out into an excited cheer.

John looked on for a while longer, then having seen enough, turned back to Silestria. “How long are we going to keep-”

Before John could finish, the announcer’s voice rang out one more time, “And for our last participant, eleven eighty!”

John didn’t pay attention to the numbers at first, but was suddenly very aware of the absence of cheering in the crowd. Mages looked at each other in confusion when nobody would proclaim that their number had been called. John recalled what the announcer had recited, and his face grew pale.

“No…” John cried out, “Katie...!”