Forged by a grueling training period in the Isles of Ixis, Iskadiel rose to the rank of crown operator. The instances of people meeting her are contradictory, as if she can be at multiple times and places at once, weaving her way through the Isles, breaking any semblance of a single, contiguous timeline.

She travels alone because no one can follow where she goes. No one knows how long she’ll live, if she’s died before, or if the next operation will cause her to bleed out.

A group of soldiers play a card game in a grungy pub.

What’s her kill count?

Higher than yours!

You’d better shut-up or she’ll get you next!

Don’t worry, I ain’t got an ounce of talent.