The thrall he'd hitched a ride on was a short young woman who barely fit into the smallest standard patrol uniform.
The small thrall made her way across Catatran's streets and to the house containing Drath's body and mind, coincidentally arriving at the same time as two others.
Creaking open the wooden door, the thralls entered and made for the far corner of the room. Then, they all knelt, placed their hands on the fake floor, and were sucked into the Memory Realm.
'Oh?'
Unlike last time, Ixion had not been spat out in the royal garden. Instead, the three thralls had been summoned directly into the throne room. In front of them, two Despairs stood.
One of these Despairs was pinching the bridge of his nose as he said:
"Get on with it."
Ixion's thrall spoke first.
"Go die in a hole."
The two others added on:
"You smell like shit."
"Leave Catatran, dumbass."
