The Primate began to squeeze, feeling the power of the elixir flow through his veins. The white-eyed woman flailed at her assailant with one arm, while the other drew a sword, and moving with surprising speed plunged it into Melovar's chest.

The Primate laughed as the revenant withdrew the sword; he could feel the wound resealing itself. The woman plunged the sword in again, this time pushing the point up, towards Melovar's heart.

The pain was excruciating, but Melovar continued to laugh, hiding the effort as he continued to squeeze the revenant's neck. If the woman had been alive, she would have choked and perished long ago, but this… thing… had no breath to yearn for. Finally, Melovar felt the vertebrae give beneath his fingers. As the woman withdrew the sword and prepared to plunge it into Melovar's flesh again, the Primate felt the spine crack. He gave one last squeeze, and the revenant crumpled to the ground.

The Primate turned to the ruler of the Akari, who looked at him with wary eyes. "The old ways are finished with, Dain Barden," Melovar said. "Your exile can end. We need to talk."

The tall warrior took his hand away from his war hammer, tugging on his forked beard. "Yes, Primate," Barden said. "I can see that we do."

~

DAIN Barden entertained Primate Melovar Aspen at his frozen palace in the ice city of Ku Kara, with Melovar's men remaining outside the city. A woman bowed in front of the Primate, descending to one knee to offer him strips of salted seal liver.

Melovar took one of the strips and put it in his mouth, rolling the oily texture over his tongue before biting into it. He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. Disgusting.

Compared to the pain of withdrawal from the elixir, compared to the pain of his burned and ruined skin, it was nothing.

"I can see you admiring her beauty," Dain Barden said, gesturing to the near-naked young woman, dressed in a transparent garment of silver gauze. Her golden hair flowed to her waist, and the large nipples that crowned her breasts could be seen pressing up against the material. Her narrow waist flared to hips that were round and descended to long, athletic legs.

"I am an old man," said the Primate, "and a templar. Such pleasures have never driven me."

Barden gestured, and the young woman came closer to him. He ran his fingers over her hair. Except for the whiteness of her eyes, and the glowing symbols tattooed on her skin, she could have been alive. "My niece," he said. "She drowned in the ice a month ago. Such a shame."

Melovar nodded, shifting on the furs that cushioned his seat of ice. This was Barden's palace, and as host it was the Dain's prerogative to dictate the flow of conversation.