The knock came at precisely nine in the morning, which was Marcus's way of announcing that grief hadn't improved his sense of timing. Pyra paused mid-bite of her perfectly prepared eggs—House Brightblade's kitchen staff continued to spoil them with food that tasted like actual cuisine rather than "edible substance with ambitions"—and exchanged glances with her sister-selves.

"That'll be our beloved benefactor's heir," Cinder said, not bothering to lower her voice as she buttered her toast. "Right on schedule for maximum emotional manipulation."

"Maybe he's bringing flowers," Kindle suggested hopefully, emerging from her room with a silk scarf tied around her still-damp hair. "You know, for the funeral he thinks he needs to plan."

"Maybe he's brought a formal apology," Ash replied, setting her book down on the side table next to her place at the breakfast table. "Full ceremonial attire, abject groveling, and a vow to rededicate his life to atoning for his past misdeeds."

"You think he's gonna get down on his knees for us?"

"Probably not that far," Ember added with a grin, standing up from her seat. "I'll get it. Time to see how well our tragic hero handles plot twists."

The voices in the corridor outside their door carried more weight than just Marcus's usual theatrical presence. Elena's laugh, distinctly nervous. Gareth's gruff murmur. Thomas discussing something in the measured tones that suggested he was explaining magical theory to someone who wasn't listening.

The entire Iron Hawks team had come calling.

"Interesting," Ash observed, setting down her book. "A full delegation suggests this isn't a casual condolence visit."

"They probably came to support Marcus while he delivers the terrible news," Kindle speculated, adjusting her scarf. "That's actually rather sweet of them."

"That's actually rather convenient for us," Cinder corrected, standing up from her meal with an air of someone girding herself for the unpleasantness that was coming. "Witnesses to Marcus's explanation of how he abandoned one of his charges to die alone."

Ember opened the door to find Marcus standing in their hallway wearing formal House Brightblade attire instead of his usual adventuring gear. His face carried the sort of carefully composed grief that suggested he'd been practicing appropriate expressions in a mirror.

Behind him, the Iron Hawks clustered with varying degrees of discomfort. Elena's usual brightness had dimmed to a somber formality. Gareth stood with military bearing that made his civilian clothes look like a uniform. Thomas fidgeted with his staff like he'd rather be anywhere else, while Alessio lurked near the back with his characteristic ability to occupy space without drawing attention.

"Marcus," Ember said with gentle surprise. "What brings you here so early? And with such distinguished company."

Marcus's carefully practiced expression of sympathetic sorrow collapsed like a house built from playing cards in a windstorm. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again without producing sound, while his eyes performed rapid calculations that clearly weren't yielding sensible results.

"You're..." he began, then stopped.

"I'm what?" Ember asked with innocent concern.

"You're alive," he finished weakly.

"I am indeed alive," Ember confirmed with the sort of cheerful matter-of-factness usually reserved for discussing the weather. "Was there some reason to think otherwise?"

Behind Marcus, Elena's face transformed with relief so profound it looked like she'd just watched the sun rise after an apocalyptic winter. "Ember! You're all right!"

"Of course I'm all right," Ember replied, stepping aside to let them enter. "Why wouldn't I be all right? Please, come in. We were just finishing breakfast."

The Iron Hawks filed into their sitting room with the awkward energy of people attending a funeral that had been cancelled without notification. Elena immediately crossed to Ember and wrapped her in a fierce hug that lasted several seconds longer than social convention required.

"We thought you were dead," she said, her voice muffled against Ember's shoulder. "The explosion, the fire, everything just... gone."

"Dead?" Ember laughed with genuine amusement. "What gave you that idea?"

Marcus found his voice again, though it carried a edge of accusation. "The fact that you immolated yourself fighting a hydra. The fact that there was nothing left but charred wood and steam. The fact that no one could have survived that level of magical burnout."

"Oh, that," Ember said dismissively. "Just a tactical nova. Standard procedure for dealing with regenerating opponents."

"Standard procedure," Gareth repeated slowly, his weathered features showing the sort of expression usually reserved for witnessing impossible things. "For magical burnout."

"Nothing standard about it," Thomas interjected, his scholarly instincts overriding social awkwardness. "The energy output we witnessed would have killed anyone. Multiple times over. Nothing should have survived that. Nothing could have survived that..."

He trailed off as the five sister-selves arranged themselves around their sitting room with casual grace, Spark emerging from his specialized quarters to investigate the newcomers with curious chirps.

"Please, sit," Pyra said, gesturing toward their furniture with the sort of hospitality that treated resurrection as perfectly mundane. "Can we offer you anything? Coffee? Tea? Explanations that don't actually explain anything?"

"Explanations," Marcus said with the tone of someone grasping for solid ground in quicksand, "would be excellent."

"Well," Ash began, her tone sliding into what they'd long ago dubbed her storytelling voice, "we'll spare you the tiresome details, but suffice to say there's a certain art to dying and not staying dead. Call it... cosmic insurance."

"An art to dying," Elena repeated. "And not staying dead."

"Exactly," Ash said, satisfied that her explanation had been accepted. "Death is more of a... temporary inconvenience for us."

"You make it sound like you've... done this before."

"We have," Ember confirmed. "Turns out, getting accustomed to dying and being reconstituted is a handy skill."

"Reconstituted?" Thomas latched on to the unfamiliar terminology with the eager interest of someone who'd just identified a thesis project. "You mean an astral reformation process of some sort? A soul-binding ritual? Do you have any idea how utterly impossible that is?"

"So we've been told," Ember said with a gesture of resignation. "Several times. In significant detail. And yet, here we are."

"Here you are," Marcus repeated with the sort of astonishment that suggested he wasn't quite sure if he was still dreaming or experiencing a particularly vivid drug trip.

"It's an inherent magical trait," Ash said, directing her comments toward Thomas rather than the others.

"Like a family blessing," Cinder added with the confidence of someone who'd decided that vague explanations were the best explanations. "Something we were born with."

"Like a... family blessing." Thomas sounded like he was tasting the words and finding them entirely unsatisfying. "That resurrects you after death."

"Yes," Ember said, patting his arm reassuringly. "Just a quirk of our bloodline.

Marcus studied them with the intensity of someone trying to solve a puzzle whose pieces refused to fit together properly. "You're saying that death doesn't affect you permanently."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"That's correct," Ember confirmed.

"All of you."

"All of us."

"Every time."

"So far."

Marcus began pacing around their sitting room with slow, thoughtful steps that didn't quite shake off the dumbfounded energy of someone whose worldview had just been overturned like an unsuspecting turtle.

"This is impossible. Death doesn't work that way. Magic doesn't work that way. People don't work that way."

"People generally don't," Ash agreed. "We're not entirely people."

The statement hung in the air like smoke from an extinguished candle, carrying implications that no one wanted to examine too closely.

"What are you, then?" Gareth asked with military directness.

"That's a philosophical question," Ash replied. "What defines personhood? Consciousness? Physical form? Legal standing? Social recognition?"

"Don't deflect," Marcus snapped. "What are you?"

"We're adventurers," Pyra said with her usual enthusiasm. "Also sisters. Also residents of this apartment. Also people who appreciate privacy regarding personal magical circumstances."

"Personal magical circumstances that involve resurrection," Thomas said, still wrestling with the concept like it was an equation that kept refusing to balance correctly. "The implications for magical theory alone..."

"Are our business," Cinder interrupted firmly. "Not research material."

"But surely you understand the significance," Thomas pressed. "The applications, the potential benefits to others who face similar dangers..."

"The potential exploitation by people who see useful tools instead of human beings," Ember countered with enough ice in her voice to cool their sitting room by several degrees.

Elena, who'd been listening with growing unease, finally spoke up. "Marcus left you to die."

The accusation cut through the academic discussion like a blade through silk. Every conversation stopped as the weight of Elena's words settled over the room.

"Elena," Marcus began with warning.

"You ordered us to retreat," she continued with the sort of quiet anger that was more dangerous than shouting. "You abandoned her to face an A-rank monster alone."

"I followed standard protocol," Marcus replied defensively. "A-rank threats require tactical withdrawal when outmatched."

"You didn't withdraw," Gareth corrected. "You fled. Without determining if extraction was possible. Without attempting support. Without providing covering fire."

"I made a command decision based on available intelligence," Marcus shot back.

"You made a coward's decision based on available terror," Alessio said quietly from his position near the window. It was the most words anyone had heard from the rogue in days, and they carried the weight of absolute judgment.

"That's enough," Marcus snapped.

"Is it?" Ember asked, all traces of earlier amusement gone from her voice. "Because I'm curious about these command decisions. Specifically, the decision to use me as bait while keeping yourself safely distant from danger."

Marcus's face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "Your presence was observational. You weren't supposed to engage."

"My presence was human," Ember replied. "When civilians were threatened by a monster you were too frightened to face, engagement became a moral imperative."

"Moral imperatives don't supersede tactical reality," Marcus said.

"They do when tactical reality involves watching innocent people die because you're too concerned with your own safety to do your job," Cinder shot back.

The confrontation escalated as the Iron Hawks found themselves caught between loyalty to their team leader and obvious admiration for someone who'd done what Marcus couldn't. Elena's disapproval was written clearly across her features, while Gareth's military bearing straightened noticeably. Thomas fidgeted with his staff, his eyes shifting from Ember to Marcus with obvious discomfort at the conflict.

Alessio, silent and stone-faced, held himself slightly apart as though dissociating himself from the confrontation entirely.

"You left her to die," Elena repeated with the sort of finality that ended arguments.

"And she didn't die," Marcus countered desperately. "So the decision was vindicated."

"The decision was vindicated by circumstances you couldn't have known about," Ash interjected calmly. "Which means the decision itself remains unethical regardless of outcomes."

"Ethics," Marcus scoffed. "Easy to discuss ethics when death is temporary."

"Death being temporary doesn't make abandonment acceptable," Ember said with enough quiet authority to make Marcus step backward. "It makes abandonment inexcusable. You knew I might die. You chose to let it happen. The fact that I survived despite your decision doesn't absolve you of making it."

The sitting room fell silent except for Spark's contented chirping as the salamander explored their visitors' boots. The magical creature's innocent happiness provided a stark contrast to the tension that filled the air like smoke from a poorly ventilated fire.

Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly. "Perhaps we should focus on practical considerations rather than moral assessments."

"Practical considerations," Cinder replied with an eyebrow arched in challenge. "Such as how House Brightblade will react when they learn their heir abandoned his responsibilities during a crisis?"

Marcus's face went pale. "You wouldn't."

"We might," Kindle said with a cold smile. "Depends on how cooperative you're feeling about improving our current circumstances."

"What do you want?" Marcus asked with the tone of someone who'd realized they were negotiating from a position of weakness.

"Freedom," Ember said simply. "Real freedom. Not the gilded cage your family calls sponsorship."

"You signed a contract—"

"Under false pretenses," Ash interrupted. "Based on financial desperation you helped create through systematic market manipulation."

"Market manipulation?" Elena asked with interest.

"Marcus suggested our team to his family specifically because he knew our financial situation was desperate," Cinder explained with the sort of helpful directness that made Marcus wince. "He engineered our dependency to force us into a sponsorship arrangement that benefits House Brightblade while limiting our autonomy."

"That's..." Thomas began, then stopped as the implications registered. "That's remarkably unethical."

"That's business," Marcus said defensively.

"That's extortion," Gareth corrected.

"And now," Ember continued with the inexorable logic of someone who'd found leverage, "you're going to help us renegotiate our arrangement with your family. Because if you don't, they'll learn exactly how their investment in our team was managed during our first crisis."

Marcus looked around the room, seeking support from his team and finding only varying degrees of disappointment. Elena's disapproval had the weight of personal betrayal, while Gareth's disappointment carried the silent judgment of someone whose values had been affronted. Thomas's expression was apologetic without offering assistance, while Alessio...

Alessio simply stood there, his presence a comment rather than his words.

"So that's it then?" Marcus asked, his voice hollow. "Renegotiation or public shame?"

"That's it," Ember confirmed. "Help us get a better deal out of your family, or deal with the consequences of your poor choices. Publicly."

"What do you want?" he asked again, his voice smaller.

"Independent mission selection," Cinder began, ticking off demands on her fingers. "No more than two social obligations per month. Freedom to decline assignments that conflict with our principles. Permission for outside employment if we choose it. Legal standing as independent agents rather than assets to be managed. And formal recognition that we're partners in this arrangement, not property."

"And we want it all in writing with full transparency for mutual review," Ember added.

"And," Pyra chimed in, "chocolate biscuits. Really good ones. Weekly deliveries."

"My mother will never agree to those terms," Marcus said weakly.

"Your mother doesn't need to know the terms came from us," Ember replied. "She just needs to hear them presented as your enlightened recognition that happy partners are more productive partners."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we have a very interesting conversation with Lady Cordelia about crisis leadership and the true cost of cowardice," Ash said with the tone of someone who considered this an entertaining prospect rather than an undesirable outcome.

Marcus looked around the room again, finding the same silent judgment he'd encountered last time. After a moment's consideration, he turned back to Ember with the air of someone who'd discovered just how narrow the precipice along which he walked actually was.

"Fine," he said finally. "I'll speak with my mother about adjusting the sponsorship terms."

"Excellent," Ember said with a beaming smile. "I'm so glad we could reach an understanding."

"Understanding," Marcus repeated bitterly.

"Partnership requires mutual respect," Pyra said helpfully. "This is what mutual respect looks like."

As the Iron Hawks prepared to leave, Elena lingered near the door, clearly wanting to say something but uncertain how to express it.

"Thank you," she said finally. "For saving those people. For doing what needed to be done."

"Thank you for coming back," Ember replied. "For choosing courage over convenience."

"Maybe we'll work together again," Elena suggested with hopeful uncertainty. "Under better circumstances."

"I'd like that," Ember said honestly.

After they departed, the five settled back into their morning routine, though the atmosphere had changed. They'd gained leverage over Marcus, but they'd also revealed capabilities that would inevitably attract attention from other quarters.

"Magisterium?" Ash asked without preamble.

"Magisterium," Cinder agreed. "They'll start asking questions soon."

"How are we going to deal with them?"

"We'll deal with them when we need to," Ember said with a casual shrug. "Same as everything else."

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