Ssarak Dyreackthanose

---

Ssarak nodded to Leith. "That would likely be wise. It would be best for us to be prepared as quickly as possible after the attack. There are no guarantees that the demons will not try again soon. Not to mention the other...dangers that may form out of this tragedy. Representatives and soldiers from two opposing armies are currently within the college's walls. This attack was a surprise to all of us, and I saw demons attacking everyone indiscriminately, but it is not unreasonable to think that the representatives may try to cast blame. If that blame falls on the college, it would obviously not be good, but even if the two armies blame one another, we would be caught in the middle of their conflict. I left my armor and weapons in our room, so I will need to stop by to retrieve them."

The devastation from the attack was likely to effect facets of the college Ssarak had not even thought of yet, far beyond the obvious damage. The stonework could be repaired, the wounded healed, and the bodies buried, but the long lasting effects were yet to be seen. How would the two armies react, and how would the college cope economically with the damage and loss of life? It seemed very unlikely that they would be using demons for security again, so how would they keep everyone protected. All of these questions together could quickly become overwhelming, so for the moment, it seemed best to focus on one thing at a time. Ssarak looked to the guard whose name he did not yet know and gave a polite nod. "Will you be joining us?"

Mar & Lyn

Lyn had just fallen asleep, her soft cheek smoothed against Mar's callous surface, when Althalus's shout echoed over the low tones of the medical wing. Startled by her fathers slight panic, Lyn started to fuss. Her face crinkled up into frustration then her whimpering shifted from low, upset to a higher pitch wail. Mar flinched at the proximity near her ear and set of lungs her daughter had in response. Damn it, Athalus! she mentally hissed as her hand patted Lyn's back gently to sooth her cries.

With thoughts of how she wanted to lash out her tail across Althalus's head just to silence him, Mar only made a visible and angry shudder. Her body twisted to the side as she slithered towards Althalus's location, passing the bedside of what appeared to be a white haired elf and a red haired nurse (Cynn and Noel), along the way. Her eyes were fixed upon the assassin laid up in his makeshift cot, unable to note her surroundings, before she grounded to a stop right in front of him. Mar delivered a glare which could've melted ice in a moment at the bedridden man, despite his injuries and bandages, then spoke with clear scolding in her voice even with the softer volume.

“Athalus, I just got her to sleep." Mar snapped, Lyn's muffled wails vibrated through her very skin, farther irritating her.

She had gotten over her relief at the man being alive when she first ensured her own offspring's survival. At pulse beating upon his neck, strong and steady, it was enough to ensure her he would live another day. Right now, she admitted, she wished he had stayed sleep for a while yet. Currently she loomed over him while she struggled to sooth the upset infant, unsure she was succeeding as the crying hadn't ceased.

Lidda

For once in her life, Lidda was too exhausted to shift into another shape. Instead of the usual odd, mismatch shapes she donned, the Vitamancy teacher had stayed in her half snow elf and Orc figure. Which most of her students wouldn't be the wiser save she never shifted into this form ever before. Other then that minor detail, few would realize this was her real figure.

Most the night she had stayed upright to heal the crowds of wounded within the now crowded Medical Bay. That alone had taken most her time and energy to both do her duties and keep her father away the Headmaster- a feat even she wasn't sure how she managed- leaving her looking like a ghoul risen from the grave. Dark circles were tracing her under lids and her movements slow, but she doubted little she would be able to sleep after her current duties were over.

The reason was simple: her father's hovering.

She hated it, even as a child, to shift and spot his shape just outside her vision's edge. Unable to gain a clear vision or determine for a clear fact it was him, something that drew agitation from her in the worse way. Still... her vision's corner she could easily imagine his disapproving scowl lingered upon his lips making his nose crinkle like a stench he couldn't be rid of, stretching from his mouth to his eyes quite easily and inwardly made her skin crawl. It was an old childhood habit revived by his present, it only increase her dislike to have him near despite her respect and love towards him.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted when a loud, male shouted for Mar and Lyn followed by an infant's wails in reply. In moments Lidda spied the Naga had slithered from her position towards the shouts, her eyes sharp enough to be daggers, to loom over the poor soul. For a few seconds, Lidda considered interrupting the quarreling 'couple' for worry Marya might be stupid enough to attack the bed ridden man.

It was almost enough to draw her attention from her current problem. Almost.

Not wasting time she also blurted out. "Might want to get a sleep draft ready and a nursemaid, seems the Naga might be slapping her child's father upside the head."

Sam's head darted towards the pair locked in conversation, the infant still wailed up a storm with the mother's fruitless attempts to sooth her continuing. He frowned at the sight naturally. "Can't have that, can I?"

Excusing himself, Samuel made his way past her while Lidda moved towards Alaira to check on her condition as she promised Samuel.

Althalus

Relief flooded through him when he finally saw Mar slithering towards him. Albeit, she was giving him a look that made him feel grateful for his bedridden state. If he hadn’t been injured, she might have been driven to actual violence. He gave a sigh of relief and lowered himself back to the bed, cursing quietly. As she approached with the wailing child, he gave an apologetic shrug, seemingly unabashed. “Sorry. It’s not every day you wake up, having passed out from fighting a demon, unsure if the two things you care about most are actually alive.” Shifting slightly, he winced. “Please don’t try to hit me. While I must confess that I absolutely love the way it keeps my reflexes sharp, I somehow doubt that I’ll be able to move much without going into spasms of pain.” He grinned at her. Then, dropping his grin, he turned to more serious questions.

“What in the name of all of the Gods happened though? I distinctly remember, before passing out, seeing guards fighting against a bunch of demons. And lightning…I remember lightning. It was supposed to have been feast night. You know, safety, camaraderie, saying hello to all of the guests, playing nice with all of the ambassadors, etc. What happened to all of that? It went from ‘safety’ to ‘fighting for our lives’ very quickly. Something I’m accustomed to, admittedly, but can’t really say I enjoy it. In fact, the less I pursue that activity, the better.” Movement out of the corner of his eye made him look over to see Sam walking over with a concerned frown on his face. “Hmm. Either I look far worse than I should, or you’ve worried Sam over there enough that he thinks you’re going to smack a bedridden patient. Not that I would blame you, all things considered. We’ll never have to worry about hearing her if she’s distressed, will we?”

He gave an amused nod towards the still squalling Lyn.

Alaira Taenn

Oblivion, there was nothing. Just an endless dark void that Alaira's consciousness was relegated to. There was no dreams or thoughts, only the void.

But it did not last. She had soon awoken... somewhere. She knew not how to describe where she was, or if anybody could. Wait, no. It was gray. But that's it. This strange landscape didn't seem to play by any of the natural laws, and any time she thought she understood it, it would shift into some new indecipherable form. So, she walked. and walked. and walked.

As she walked, the land remained as formless as ever, as if it didn't want to allow her to identify it. While she walked, direction didn't really seem to matter, the laws of physics were functionally useless. That is until she arrived at what could only be referred to as the center. It was clearly a structure, similar in shape to a small colosseum, composed of bricks of stone the same color as the rest of the world. There were what looked like luminescent shards of glass suspended in the air, though what they actually were was a mystery.

She approached ones, and as she snatched it out of the air, she noticed something. Inside the shard, she could see... memories, as if she was looking through a window into the past. She sat there in silence (not that she had much choice, she found she couldn't speak here for whatever reason) as she watched herself walk Coco through the basics of spear-fighting. Letting go of the shard, she found that it drifted, unaffected by gravity.

There were thousands of these shards, each wordlessly playing fragments of memories. She couldn't even begin to describe what the hell any of this meant, but she was reasonable enough to know that going around breaking shit in frustration was not a great idea. And just like that, it was gone. All of it, everything was black again. But there was... noise. A sort of wailing...

Alaira suddenly shot awake, and the first thing she noticed was Lidda. The first reaction was of course to strangle the thing that looked like a demon, but instead of the lightning quick lunge to the throat, her movements were sluggish and unresponsive. Good thing too, she wouldn't have come to the realization that that was probably Lidda if she had been as fast as she was last night. The sudden (kinda) movement made her head hurt, so she put her hand to her head as she groaned and leaned back in the cot. "Ugh... I can't be dead, this hurts too much..." she complained. and there was still that noise burrowing into her head.

She took a moment to inspect herself, and found herself covered in bandages up to the neck. She tried removing some of the ones on her arm, but it took a while as her hand didn't seem to want to obey her, as if her fingers were made of lead. She eventually unwrapped her arm and found that it was fully healed. The tons of extra scars however, remained. Hundreds of tiny lacerations up and down her arms, however there were no extra scars on her shoulder. She imagined that the gashes were much larger, but the healers couldn't fully fix the wounds on her arms which must have been a lot worse because she hadn't worn anything on her arms that night.

She had definitely felt her head getting torn apart and her hair being pulled out, but she didn't feel any new scars and her hair seemed to be intact, if a little shorter. "Even went to the trouble of growing my hair back..." she mumbled to herself. She was still dimly aware of the wailing (well, dimly was how she perceived everything at the moment, she was still quite groggy), and right now she just wanted it to stop. At that point she suddenly remembered. Lyn! she looked around, slightly panicked, only to find Lyn was perfectly safe, and the source of said wailing. Mar was trying to calm her down, but to no avail.

Alaira tried to leave the cot, but once again her body was disobeying her. She felt heavy, as if her body didn't actually belong to her or the parts weren't receiving the signals. She got out, but fell to the floor. Wordlessly, she rose (it took a while) as she tried to approach. Luckily, they weren't very far away and there was plenty of stuff around she could hold for support.

After about a minute, she arrived, and sat on the cot aside Athalus'. "Hush... you don't need to cry, you're safe..." Alaira said softly, almost a whisper as she caressed Lyn's forehead.

Lidda

Lidda frowned at sluggish attempt Alaira made towards her, but it didn't stop her reaction. In seconds, quills, sharp and thin hollow points erupted from her neck and created a hardened mane. It was fortunate that Alaira hadn't been able to rise her hand far enough or been able to strike, otherwise her hand would've been treated to something painful.

Instead, her eyebrow had rose in question at the half elf and took in her expression of pain. "Nice try, but I suggest against trying it again."

At seeing her current patient examine herself, Lidda waited in silence while Alaira's eyes roamed about her bandage body. Despite Vitamancy being a primary focus on the body, in areas of healing, strengthening, and more, there was only so much mending Lidda dared risk when it came to those suffering Blood Sickness. Mainly due to the fact their arcanite was at such levels and risk crippling the subject beyond repair, a main fact it was ill-advised for vitamancers to heal it. It made natural healers and alchemists like Samuel and Lucilia, respectively, necessary.

She moved, noting Alaira's stubbornness, when the student had pulled upright to make her way toward the scene. She spied Sam standing there, almost certian Mar should be in bed and rested alongside Lyn. His arms waved about in threatic worry which amused the Vitamancer inwardly. Alaira's comment naturally seemed to have done the trip, soothing the babe into a less fussy state as her little eyes closed into relaxation. Mar was still glaring at Athalus and seemed that the only fact he was in bed had stopped her from lashing out, much to Sam's worry. That didn't last long when he spotted Alaira and started to usher her back into the nearest cot, exclamations of why she shouldn't be out and bout rang through the room. Lidda shook her head before she rose upright and helped him place the others back into bed.

Time Passing: Two months

Khan

Khan sat within his office, his horned head hunched over his desk and papers piled at each end. Currently he was dressed in a white, crisp tunic designed to allow his wings to fold about his form and buckskin trousers that ran down to just below his knees. His left boot tapped softly against the stone floor, making a loud tip-tap to fill the silence. At his side was a elegantly carved cane propped there as a reminder. His focus was fixed on papers which held his official written signature and yet in some odd way, it didn't.

His chicken scratch, once strong and fluid, had a shaky quality to it with each time he picked up a feathered quill. It had taken what he thought was ages to be able to write eligible once again after his experience but the effects would last a lifetime, his hand's strength weakened and unable to grasp for long periods. At least like it had before. It had taken some difficulty to convince the representatives that this incident wouldn't happen. Yet, many students and staff had decided to return home against his reassurances, leaving the College slightly less crowded then it had been once. There was still plenty of students to avoid the eerie abandonment, but the losses were still felt both in the face of the Headmaster and those left behind. It was a depressing time then.

Slowly he rose his head and tore away from his current task, a list of the College expenses for the month, as he reached one hand to open a drawer. His wing shifted to make the motion easier while his body half turned to glimpse within. It creaked opened on its mixture of mental and wooden grooves. A glint reflected off a familiar green vial with an attached note. His hand reached in to examine it, bring it up to his odd colored eyes while the words echoed in his mind: we really should be friends.

Khan hadn't revealed the object's presence to anyone. Niether Lucillia, Tyrael or Uicle, for he feared what all of them would've said. He had his own idea, unsure how well it fit to the personality they had and of what their actions would've been. There was slight discomfort he felt about his friends action, one that held him back from telling them. Khan wasn't ready to risk secrets and he just wasn't sure if they would keep something from him or tell him the dark truth, disliking his current course of action.

He churned the liquid's contain over in his hand while he had little fear of being overheard or walked in on. Mainly thanks to Rathel's little demonic creations and Zaad's part. Rathel, alongside the other demons, had been confined to the Inferno for one month and during that time, he had been busy developing a special type of flower imbue with demonic energies. It had special properties which played upon Rathel's demon nature and herbamancy, creating a slight bounding effect where it could only be manipulated by a single Herbamancer throughout all it's long life. However, there were side effects Rathel was still determined to iron out. Namely the vicious nature of th eplant in question and it's craving for blood, a vampiric trait left off from the original plant chosen for the experiment. Now the plant, hidden below the stone work of Khan's office, had created a tightly woven seal against any would be spies or pests, plant or otherwise. Zaad on the other hand was eager to patrol the hallways, alert and tense in his chore.

Khan's mind wandered over the events which had past in the last two months.

The days had passed into weeks and before too long, the changes of the seasons had occurred throughout the College, freed from the effects of that terrible night. Changes in the season were clear as frost gave way to the spring breezes, melting them to make way to new greenery within the College grounds and the familiar grey landscape surrounding it. Far in the distance along the roads towards the Twilight College, like tiny trees of a grim nature, were the petrified and rotted heads of a great number of demons purged during the previous month placed there by Tyrael. Khan after all would not allow any remains back upon the College's grounds now cleaned of the losses. Classes had slowly went back to their subtle ways, practice and knowledge passed into the minds of the students as they grow in magic.

His leg ached, a cry to stir, causing Khan to set the vial aside and gently rub the pain away. The medicine Lucilia had left upon his desk was still there, barely touched, thanks to his overwhelming tasks. Surly skipping one day wouldn't hurt him? Thought Khan, lazily casted his sight upon it before he farther ignored it.

Mar And Lyn

Mar's arm was pressed onto Althalus's chest, her fingers splayed over the contours and felt the soft rise and fall of his breathing. Her head was nuzzled near his neck inhaling his comforting scent. In the past, she would never have been this close to him, sleeping close and coiling her tail about his sleeping form. It had only became a habit due to Lyn's inability to sleep without the presence of both. Now, despite Mar's pride, it felt more natural then anything.

In a hazy sense, Mar began to wake. The den was too dark to see anything but faded lines blurred out by a pale glow, yet her skin flickered alive. Something was crawling across her skin. Slow and creeping. Mar's eyes snapped open and a dry hiss escaped her lips. He body jerked upright, her arms snapped free from the petite thorns which had twisted about the bed. It was a small rose bush but the thorn were like tiny daggers, their floral blades dug into her skin, splitting it to draw blood.

Instinctively Mar's head snapped about, her eyes alarmed. Lyn, now six years physically, was sitting just at the foot of their bed. She dressed in a simple, cotton tunic with her brown long hair wild and tangled. Fresh soil smudges had covered her from head to toe, so she appeared like most typical children her physical age. However, her skin looked slight peak as in her hand was a bundle of roses, their stems trailed from her scratched grasp and spread across the bed. She smiled, faintly, through she looked about to tip over from her seated position. Two objects were sitting next to her, the first was a small dagger, made from the bone and twine demon gut connecting the blade and handle (with her toy's baby bells attached), and the last was a well love abused stuff animal patched several times.

When she spotted her mother's surprised gaze, Lyn held out her arms to present her with the flowers. Her head gestured to gathered gift then back to Mar, unable to speak words yet. At first the sudden pace at which Lyn had grown alarmed Mar, not even Naga grew up that fast, and became a slight worry for various teachers in the College. So far there wasn't any thing to determine Lyn's quick growth was harmful to her but rather, natural. It was hard to know for sure due to Lyn being the first of her kind.

"Lyn... did you do this?" Mar asked in a soft voice, her arms edged to scoop her daughter up. Unaware of the small scratches leaving tiny, bloody lines over her surface. Lyn merely nodded, her thin arms wrapped about Mar's neck while she laid her head upon the shoulders with heavy lidded eyes.

Lucilia Riovas

Lucilia opened her eyes. Her arms were crossed over one another, her body leaned back on an angle. She was in a very tight spot. Despite the sever claustrophobia that would have taken others, for Lucilia this was just a nice nap. "Ah... It's been too long since I've had a chance to rest like this..." Lucilia leaned forward and pushed the cover of her coffin open. Very stereotypical, as vampires don't need to sleep in coffins. But Lucilia doesn't rest often either and the coffin took up less space than her bed.

Leaving the confine of her coffin Lucilia carefully stepped over various debris and junk as she walked towards her wardrobe. While she often keeps the appearance of organization and grace, like anyone else Lucilia was different behind closed doors. Unlike her office, Lucilia's room was a mess. Dedicating to not have any trace of her college work in her room, it was instead filled with various boxes and containers for her Alchemy and Herbamancy magic, having no walls with book shelves instead. The shear amount of books in her room made it seem more like a library. Large pieces of papers detailing various magical theories and charts dotted around her room. In cages, strange creatures sat waiting for Lucilia to do something with them. these creatures were not animals, but Lucilia's attempts at creating a Homunculus. She started with animals first, and only small ones. They... Didn't quite turn out right. The ones who didn't die didn't look anything like the animals she was trying to create, but they lived anyways. She kept them around for further study. Lucilia's room was also voided of windows though it did have a fireplace, but even that also lacked any wood or kindling to make a flame. There was a large rune stove that was given to Lucilia if she needed to create a source of heat for whatever reason, like cooking. She mainly uses the fireplace as a quick means of leaving her room however, in the form of a swarm of bats.

Lucilia looked a the wardrobe and thought about what to wear for today. As she looked she noticed something in her armory; the curious little weapon that Lucilia had devised up. It was a sort of arm blade, which used a intricate series of rune circles and links to cause the blade to vibrate in subtle but extreme intensity. The only issue is the hum and how tight the arm guard has to be on the arm as the constant vibrations would occasionally make it lose. It was of course just a prototype model, as the idea itself intrigued her; using the constant motion of friction to tear through objects, or enemies. More research would have to be done first... But looking at the weapon, Lucilia knew what she wanted to wear. Once she got her clothing together, she even posed in front of her mirror with the arm blade. Satisfied with her choice, Lucilia put the weapon back into her armory and left her room.

The room that Lucilia calls her ownwas in a building that was formerly her dormitory back when she attended the Twilight College. While not the same room, it wasn't too far away. Lucilia headed towards one of her workshops where the Alchemy Class gathered to pool their resources together for projects, such as creating a new and powerful elixir or mass producing more stable ones. Currently the room was sparsely populated, with students who were completely engrossed with their work and paid no mind to Lucilia. Suited her just fine. She went into her own personal workspace to retrieve a few vials. These vials contained Khan's medicine. Ever since the demon attack on the college Khan has to take medicine that the Archmage asked Lucilia to produce in order for Khan's health to remain stable; without it he would begin to suffer from chaotic ailments with no discernible cause. Lucilia has been hard at work finding the source of the problem through her limited study on Khan and the medicine that the Archmage has given her. But with all the work that's been put onto Lucilia's plate, finding even just a day to dedicate to studying the medicine required multiple gambits and a hefty amount of manipulation. She considered herself fortunate that she was able to discover and replicate the ingredients of the medicine, but aside from how it's made and what it's made from, she still had no clue how it cures Khan. Her lack of time frustrated her.

Taking two of the vials from the incubator and locked it. She didn't trust too many with the medicine. Only the high ranking teachers knew of the medicine, and even than Lucilia only allowed Lidda access to it. Not even Khan would be allowed to touch the medicine, partly because she isn't sure how it may respond to him during it's creation phase, but also so Lucilia would have an excuse to find Khan and give him his medicine personally. Too often does Khan put off taking his medication, despite Lucilia's orders. "You need to take it twice a day, once when you wake up and once when you go to sleep." She would tell him. She is very strict on this, and whenever possible she would find him before he slept so he took his medication, and before he awoke for the same reason. The only time she wouldn't is when she has to catch up with her work and occasionally her own rest. But today was not one of those days. Lucilia had today's medicine for Khan; one for when he goes to sleep and another for when he wakes up. And when that happens she'll stop by again and give him his next two, like clockwork.

Lucilia arrived to Khan's office. Initially, when Rathel's strnage new plants took residence around Khan's office, Lucilia was quick to protest. She didn't like the idea that Khan could become trapped by his own demons, as well as the auxiliary issue that Lucilia can no longer access Khan's room through her own grapevine network. Even now she still is against the idea, though she at least hasn't tried to sabotage anything. She does plan to one day have Rathel tell her the secrets of how he created his plants so that she could control them herself. But that wasn't the issue at hand. "Khan, it's Lucilia. May I come in?"

Tyrael Marchosias

Muffled hammering came from the college's forge. It has gone through quite the renovation; while it was certainly an impressively large place before, now it has been converted to a full fledged factory. Weapons, armor, machines of war, trade goods, all these things were made by the hundreds every day. However, it wasn't working at it's full efficiency. At least not to Tyrael's standard. had he his way, the forge would be busy at work day in and day out, possibly creating thousands of things daily. Of course, all the workers would have to be demonic slaves. Ever since their betrayal back during the Winter Solstice, the presence of demons on the college has dropped massively. Only the demons summoned under the watchful eye of himself or Khan have been allowed at the college. The Veil around the college has been enforced in such a way that Demonmancer students have a hard time practicing due to the sheer difficulty to produce a portal or call a demon. But it wasn't just them suffering from the Veil. As mentioned, Tyrael is most productive when he can employ the service of an infinite amount of demons. But because of their treachery, he was still in the process of screening each and every demon under his service to ensure where their loyalty lies. So far he's only gone through 7% of them.

Another issue is that many of his demons have rebelled against him. While less than half, it was still a substantial amount of demons who are actively working against him. Some of them were even his own Familiars. And since Tyrael is still trying to amass his own forces, he cannot wage war against the betrayers; he simply lacks the soldiers to do so. The best he can do for now is play defensive and build his numbers until he can conduct a full fledged counter attack. And until than, he has to rely on mortals. And so he started developing Demon-Hunting Equipment; Weapons and Armor made to fight against the demons that the college would face. Weapons that would do harm to demons, and armor that would protect mortals from the Inferno and the attacks of it's inhabitants. However he was not giving those things freely; one either had to earn them or purchase it. Because he can't simply make an army out of nothing; he needed funds, things needed to be done, and as powerful as he is, there was only one of him, and countless problems. He had to rely on others. He hates the dependence, but he has no other viable options.

And so we return to the forge. Tyrael is hard at work etching the Demon-Hunting runes onto the various blades and plate armor. And there was a line of people waiting for it, people that he didn't trust with it. New guards, after the old ones that Lucilia had purchased left due to suddenly having to do their jobs for once. Tyrael didn't like these new people; for starters, they were competent. Almost too competent. They acted like golems with how emotionless they were. They were efficient as soldiers due to their skills in battle, but their detachment from emotions made them hard to understand or serve as guards; you either did as they say or they would punish you. The second reason he didn't like them was because of just how many of them there were. Ten thousand of these warriors at the college, so many that they actually had to make a new barrack to put them all in. And lastly, it was because he had never heard of them before. These "Untainted Warriors" as Lucilia called them seem to have just come out from thin air. No history, no leaders, no founder, just an army of warriors led by the vampire. They weren't even mercenaries as they weren't getting paid. And Tyrael was expected to arm each and every one of them. The only reason he did so was because Lucilia had paid a hefty amount of gold for his war efforts, and even than these guys just crept him out.

Tyrael hasn't always been in the forge of course. He still had classes to teach, and even though he was a one-man army now, he still took it upon himself to make sure the college and it's surrounding territories were safe. He also had to go collect his own materials from the Ravine, the location of which he has kept to himself. He could just have others fetch the materials for him, but not only would this mean revealing the location of the Ravine to them (And possibly attracting demons through the Ravine) but he may have to pay them. Which he was loath to do, as he needed a lot of materials, which means spending a lot of money. Tyrael has been trying to get Uicle to assist him by using his Golems, but Tyrael also wants those golems in his army too, which not everyone is very excited to do. Many still blame him for the attack on the college, and Tyrael does nothing to prove his innocence. All he cares to do is stop the demons that once served him from threatening the college and the people there. If they don't like that, than they can continue to hate him. Tyrael wasn't going to stop.

Khan

"I'll let you keep trying. I'll let you all keep your Demonmancy, see if you can reach my expectations. Maybe you might even defeat me. Come on, it'll be fun! At least I'm giving you a chance. Because I'm a merciful god."

That final phrase, unsettling and mischievous, nailed deeply into Khan’s skull like an arrow to the brain. Harsh and concerning, it was enough to distract him from keeping track of the time which passed onward regardless. Unaware how little precious time he had left, Khan let the minutes slip from his mind like water from fingers as he continued to recall what he could about the vial itself. Both discovered facts and speculation swirled within his focus, a dark current with not a single comfort towards progress had left him rather weary. The only certainty he was sure of was that it was likely impossible for him to shatter and destroy the contents. Not that he hadn’t tried. Anything, from shattering it against the wall to trying to turn it into cinders within the Inferno had resulted in nothing more than wasted energy. Energy he didn’t have the ability to waste anymore, Khan realized when he came close to his limitations over and over.

His odd eyes focused upon the vial in such intensity that Khan hadn’t notice his fingers were trembling. Nor did he realize the effect it would have on the hidden vines. Slowly, his grip tightened. By now, any normal glass would’ve cracked and shattered within his grasp from the increased stress. Instead it seemed to hold its shape firmly to mock him. Inside the office walls the vine stilled altogether, waiting and absorbing the Headmaster’s mood with the sense of a hungry predator. Their stems halted their activity to seek what remained of Lucilia’s grapevine and an intense quiet fell into the room. Then they sudden constricted inwards. Vines pulled in, disturbing granite and mortar, as they tried to edge toward Khan’s unmoving form.

It was only when the first stem had coiled about Khan’s leg did his spell break.

The vine had uprooted a floor stone and drilled through another, its thin vine stretched out like a small, green rope to band about the Eysire’s leg. Its touch sent a roar of flaming pain into Khan’s nerves. In reaction, he dropped the vial flat upon the desk top and his arm shoved his chair back with a squeal. Meanwhile his free hand jerked down to rip his bad leg free. His mind shot to Rathel.

‘Rathel, your vines.’

Without a comment or word, Khan felt Rathel’s presence begin to command the plants. With a little resistant and sourness at being denied a meal, the vine started to retreat. It didn’t stop the sting of its grip however. It lingered, a dark warning, for the Headmaster and Rathel to ponder on later. It reminded them both of the grim risk with using this fully untested plant type. The vines were almost as blood thirsty as its demonic relations, a trait Rathel hadn’t been able to weed out completely without killing its effectiveness. A fact that the demon was very worried would arise and manifest in the vine’s behavior, namely when he didn’t micromanage the trait, and was surprised when Khan insisted he still use the offshoot. Khan felt his adrenaline and surprise, mixed with the potent survivor instincts, chase the trembles away for now. It was now that Rathel chose to speak.

‘I was worried this might occur. I think it would be best to use another method, namely if I can’t weed out the blood thirst and kill its aggression. It could end up killing you or worse, one of the teachers or students.’

‘No, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’

‘Khan, I really mus-‘ Rathel tried to argue his point, his slight worry over what might’ve happened drove his words, only to be cut off.

‘Rathel, please, I’m too tired to explain why it’s important you do.’ Khan sensed a pause. A simple and promising one when the topic shifted gears.

‘Very well. ‘ Rathel continued, amused slightly. ‘However, you realize Lucilia gave you expressive orders to take your medicine? Not let it just evaporate away. She won’t like you trying to skip it very much, I hope for your sake she doesn’t decide to call in Uicle for help.’

Khan noticed Rathel’s tone held a tone of worry and concern, a gesture the Headmaster found endearing despite the conflict in the last two months. His impulse to shove Rathel and the rest into the Inferno was after all a hasty one. One made out of anger, weakness, and frustration at becoming a tool among the chaotic events. Something he never wanted to occur again. The green vial again capture his attention as his hand reached for it, sliding it into the draw it belonged in before he shut it close. After the dull thump, he replied.

‘I know, but I think I can manage it without it. Truly Rathel. There has to be another way then taking something for it.’

‘Is the reason you don’t take it have anything to do with when Riddic was sick?’

Khan was silent. Rathel could sense he had hit something and it was a harder blow then the demon intended, that much he could guess well enough from the headmaster. Gently Rathel had been about to talk again when Lucilia’s voice rang out. Khan stiffened, his head twisted toward the doorway and finally found his words.

‘Rathel, can you delay her?’

‘I prefer not to…’ Rathel said, his mental voice seemed to chuckle. He released the vines before Khan could comment and even went as far as open the door, inviting the vampire in. One of the vines wormed its way from the mortar, its end bloomed into a blood red flower of deadly beauty and purpose. Within it a voice came out by manipulating the carbon and oxygen into key qualities to mimic Rathel in sound.

“He’s all yours Lucilia.” With the end of the message, the flower gave a soft hiss, then wilted and died abruptly.

Khan looked at his drink, briefly, as he reached to straighten his work space. His hands reached for papers and sorted them into piles to make it all appear better than it really was. The last of them were shuffled into order before his leaned down for his cane, casted onto the floor in his sudden movement, to aid him upright. Against the sensation of weakness which washed over him, Khan managed to stand so he could retrieve a chair for Lucilia. His action had served a dual purpose really. One was to be polite and the other to hide the fact he hadn’t touched his medicine yet, his mind wrapped up too far into examining Kudd’s unwanted gift he had put it off. Now it was too late to correct it. He forced himself to be steady against his body’s desire to crumble as he used a question to divert Lucilia’s notice.

“How is the Archmage’s condition?”
Wrath of the Skies

Rurik

It was a normal day as Rurik made his way towards his schedule trade destination, Twilight College. The sun had finally risen over the half-way point of the horizon and the cart casted its large shadows across the grey terrain, the scenery sank deeply in the dark colors of the early morning. The wheels were a familiar melody the dwarf enjoyed of jar clinks, box rattles, and rusty axel sounds while his mule provided the steady rhythm during this long trip. For hours now, Rurik managed to keep his eyes fixed ahead, mostly out of eagerness to reach the school. He had quite a few healthy prospects that he was sure both students and teachers would enjoy. His little companion, a wee ferret, was sound asleep in the cart’s back had joined in with soft whimpers. The critter’s lithe body was curled in a nest of cast away rags among the normal various items. The little snores had Rurik stifle a small smirk.

It wasn’t until he noticed a most gruesome sight along his route: a spiked forest of demon heads. Hundreds of them were staked out and drying in the sun, their eyes closed while he clip-clopped by their still forms. Rurik felt the unease stir within his spine, the bone sudden gone ridged until it seemed it was made from stone. His fingers tightened about the reins then flipped them to urge the mule faster along. The trip seemed to work as the animal, its nostrils filled with the scent of rot and sulfur, seemed to quicken his pace. In moments they cleared the rancid scene where Rurik pushed it towards the back of his mind. Sometimes it was best never to remember certain things at all, the merchant thought grimly. In at least an hour they would be safely locked within the College’s large walls and safe, a thought that made trampling past the prior scene worth it.

Distracted by the thoughts of the future, Rurik didn’t noticed the large circling shadow until it was too late.

*****

The College gate opened wide as usually for Rurik’s arrival, but something was clearly different this bright, sunny morning. Instead of the usual rattling cart and mule, it was the dwarf alone who limped inside. Still his usual 3’10” height, his small stout frame bore the familiar travel worn cloak and clothing yet they were torn in several places. Blood soaked the front of his tunic from a large gash that had sliced into the skin underneath, a few inches deep, as he fell to his knee where he held an arm to starch the bleeding. Two more wounds, in similar fashion graced his forehead and just below his right knee where he had done a hasty bind in order to walk. He axe was gone, vanished from his person which cried of something foul. Rurik was dwarf so only something vicious would’ve been able to pry his favorite weapon from his hand, unless he was a corpse.

He struggled to keep his face from becoming planted into the cobble stone ground, his chest heaving heavily, while his face paled with worry and shock. Several students and a few Golems had immediately crowded around him causing Rurik’s head to jerk up. His eyes were covered by crusted blood dried brown but they seemed to glimmer with a faint hope. He licked his chap lips before he spoke. “*Help! Roc lat at me on th’road. Big auld beastie. Tis cam out of nowhaur n’ took off wit mah wagon! ”

*Help! Roc attacked me on the road. Big old beast. It came out of nowhere and took off with my wagon! (For those who want to double check his/her translation.)

Grey Onyx

Grey wandered the halls, the events of two months ago more or less forgotten. Well, maybe not forgotten, but certainly... far away. Right now, he was just focused on delivering this package. Recently, Grey had been assisting the smiths in churning out gear, seeing as how the demons had destroyed quite a lot of equipment and he was one of the few gifted with the knowledge of smithing that wasn't dead, hospitalized, or Tyrael.

As such, there was an impressive backlog of student requests, among them a crossbow for a man by the name of Athalus. Why a student would need a crossbow was beyond him, but students also occasionally needed rat viscera so the crossbow didn't seem all that odd. It was a simple, though effective tool. Not quick by any means but accurate and it packed a punch. He eventually arrived at the snake-woman's room (apparently they were... erm, romantically involved) and softly knocked at the door. He listened for a moment, and he didn't hear anything. Well, it was still early. He left the package by the door (there were instructions on calibrating the damn thing included) and went on his way.

Well... now what? It wasn't even noon and he didn't really have any other tasks to complete today. well... He could always just patrol... yeah. Yeah, that's what he'd do. And that's what he did.

Justice is Red

Two days previously, a man had stumbled into the College grounds. He was wounded, the most obvious being the fact that his left arm had been cut off at the shoulder and cauterized. His clothes were bloody and burned, and there appeared to be teeth marks on his neck. Human, teeth marks. He was allowed through by Uicle’s Golems because he didn’t pose any significant threat. Indeed, he was immediately stopped by a Steel Golem and was about to be taken to the Infirmary when he began babbling in a terrified voice, almost a scream. Demons sprouting from blood. Devouring shadows. Flames instead of breath. An unkillable monster in the flesh of an Elf. Those were repeated over and over. From what Uicle could gather from the babbling, his farm had been attacked. What, the man couldn’t accurately say. Regardless, as soon as he was brought into the Infirmary, he was given a sedative. That’s how he has largely been kept for the past 48 hours, as every time he woke up, he’d begin panicking and babbling again. In fact every time Uicle has come by to check on their visitor, the man woke up, panicked, and managed to knock Uicle’s head off. A joke that Uicle hoped Aarem found hilarious, because he didn’t.

Regardless, the man woke up without panicking this time, and Uicle was allowed in. The man had come here for a reason after all. And something had attacked him. The Necromancer wanted to know what. As he opened the door to the Infirmary, he heard someone shouting “No, I have to see the Headmaster!”. Then a pan hit him in the face, and knocked his head loose again. It didn’t fall off though, which was good. “Really. I think I preferred the stones.” Uicle grumbled under his breath, replacing the helmet that served as his head. As if to comply, a stone clunked on the top of his head. “I was being sarcastic.”

The man had stopped his struggling, and was looking at him in undisguised surprise. Uicle spoke before he could. “I’m as close to the Headmaster as you’re going to get. What do you need help with? You stumbled in here, bloodied and nearly dead.” The man’s face flooded with grief and he choked out, “My farm. My family. All dead and gone. Mages! Mages did it! They burned and consumed and destroyed! I went to the nearest army official, begging for help, but he just sent me here! Said he had no mages to spare!”

Uicle closed the distance quickly. Rogue mages, rampaging in the Eanian farmlands, were never a good thing. “Tell me everything.”

"Twist, turn, coil, and release!" Meirin burst forward with a large gust of wind. The back blast was strong enough to knock over a few wooden training dummies. More impressively, despite how much power was put into it, Meirin was able to swiftly maneuver around the obstacles she set up in front of herself. A series of barrels, boxes, and other things to get in her way a she spend past them using her boost of magic. She was moving much faster than her body normally can, and if anyone else tried to go at her speed they'd either fall unconscious at the sheer force or even get their skinned ripped off. It didn't happen to Meirin however because she had been taking these past two months training her Weaving Magic. She actually had put a lot more time into her studies now, and even took up some Alchemy to learn how to make medicines and healing salves, if people get hurt again.

The secret to Meirin's speed and durability was two gestures that she learned. One was merely a more powerful form of her wind blast weaving technique that was strong enough to propel herself, and another was a different variant of a Vitamancy weaving technique. While Meirin already knew one that could rejuvenate the energy in her body, this new one strengthen her skin. What it did was harden her skin and made it more tense. This served a few functions; first and most obviously it made her body a little bit harder to harm. Second was that, due to her muscles tensing together, it also closed any wounds on her body and stops bleeding for the duration of the spell. However due to how tight her muscles contracted, moving was difficult and took a considerable amount of effort. Effort that Meirin was putting into overcoming the initial weakness of the technique.

The bandages and cuts on her body showed that her training did not start off perfectly, but over the two months she had largely gotten rid of her new technique's stiffness and could not utilize it's defensive ability without losing her mobility. A little help with her improved wind blast spell also contributed to creating a new technique that Meirin was now practicing. It was simply a charge, using her wind blast to give her a large initial burst of speed. She than use smaller and quick hand gestures to shoot off small burst of wind to steer herself, though she largely just used her own body to dodge and navigate around most obstacles. She used the wind blast to help her with more deft-defying stunts, like running up a wall or falling off a wall. She wasn't just running however; she had set up specific targets that she needed to hit during each run, and missing one was considered a fail. So far she had a rather high accuracy; no missed targets and she always made sure to put as much power as she could to behind each hit. That meant that most of the targets, whether they were wooden signs or metal plates, had fist-shaped holes in them if not shattered in half.

Now Meirin sat on a bench wrapping up her hands. Turns out hitting wooden signs and metal plates can damage your fists, though there was nothing broken, just a bit bloody and bruised. "I think that's enough for now." Meirin got up and collected her things before leaving the gymnasium. "Now than, where did Ssarak go?"

For a moment, Ssarak was silent. He took in a deep breath, released it, then repeated. His heart rate slowed back to normal levels and his heightened blood flow calmed down. He had not needed to exert himself too particularly hard, but nevertheless, relaxing outside in the fresh air was soothing, more times than not. He had just finished a sparring session with Alaira, who he had been helping recover over the past few months. Given the state her body was still in, she was considerably more exhausted than himself, but she was improving every day. Alaira had sacrificed quite a lot to save the lives of Mar, Althalus, and their child, Lyn, so he felt it only right that he help her recover. After all, he had quite a bit of experience in combat training, and had dealt with physical therapy for injured warriors. When it came to building up health and physical fitness, one might even consider him an expert.

With all that had happened over the past few months, Ssarak had been quite busy, and unbelievably stressed. The situation with Dirssi had brought up more pain, more bad memories than he had ever hoped to feel again. It reminded him of his own weaknesses and failures. Were it not for those closest to him, he would undoubtedly be dead by now. Even through it all, though, he still managed to keep up with most of his responsibilities. It was fortunate that the college allowed him to keep up with his classes while they considered Dirssi's claims, and he even managed to attend his private lessons with Satori on a mostly regular schedule. All of that combined with the physical therapy sessions with Alaira meant he had been used to having little free time. That was only now starting to change, though with the implications of the attack a few months beforehand, he doubted the reprieve would be permanent.

Turning his attention back to reality, Ssarak stood up and stretched out his muscles. He approached Alaira, observing her carefully to see what kind of state she was in. No one, of course, wanted their body to be damaged to the point that it lost functionality, but he felt that it was particularly bad for Alaira. Fighting was a large part of who she was; it was almost a defining trait of her personality. While she did not have the same wartime experience as himself, she poured a lot of effort into improving her fighting abilities. To be injured as she was, to have her body unable to perform in quite the same way as it did before, was no doubt torturous to her and her pride. Even if he disagreed with everything she believed in regards to war and fighting, he still respected how selflessly she could act when the situation demanded it. For that reason, he would see her recovery through to the end.

"The rate of your improvement seems to be increasing. That is good, but as always, I feel I need to remind you not to over-exert yourself. In a recovery stage like this, your health is still fragile. You could still regress if you push yourself too hard. Be sure to get some rest. Our schedule's permitting, we can have another session tomorrow. Perhaps not sparring again, though. It has been a while since we worked on your legs, and it can be unwise to skip those exercises." Ssarak suggested.

Leith jerked awake with a snort, a piece of paper stuck to the side of his face. Quickly, he peeled the paper off his cheek and looked around the room to see if anyone had seen that. They probably heard it, though, he realized, but luckily there was no one around to see that he was the one who had made that noise. He looked at the old book sitting on the table in front of him and sighed. It appeared that he had fallen asleep in the library again. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and got up to put the book back where he had found it, taking his notes with him.

In addition to his classes and being part of the Investigation Squad, Leith had begun some intensive research on demons and Demonmancers, learning anything that he could about the creatures. He had sat in on a couple of Tyrael's Demonmancy classes, but mostly he had done his research in the library. It had paid off, too. Not only had he found information on demons, but he had discovered an interesting ritual involving something called 'Totems.' As he tried to learn more on the subject of these Totems, he discovered that they were only mentioned in the books that look like they've been there for many, many years.

Brushing the thoughts of his research out of his mind, Leith left the library and headed towards his room to put his notes away. He chuckled when he noticed a group of students distance themselves from him as he approached. Over the six months before the attack, some people believed that he was a vampire, which made no sense to him since he only had one trait related to vampires; albinism, and even that wasn't pure albinism. Now, people avoided him because of his hand. The gauntlet that had fused to his hand had basically crushed it, from what he was told, so it was really his hand now. He had to go through the process of relearning his grip strength since the gauntlet had affected how hard his grip was. He had to also learn how to do write and do basic things with his left hand.

He looked at the shaky-looking scrawl of his notes. His writing was starting to look more legible. He frowned. It wasn't the worst, but it could be better. As he was contemplating his writing ability of his left hand, his foot caught on something and sent him sprawling to the floor. His notes went everywhere, and when he pulled himself off the ground, he chuckled at the sight of his papers all over the floor. With a sigh, he started the process of picking up his papers and making sure he didn't miss any.

Aramir

Aramir was practicing her archery. She practiced for two reasons. One, she was making sure her skills didn’t grow rusty. After all, when you’ve spent much of your life with a bow in your hand, it’s hard to lose those skills you gained. They may grow dull, but they would never completely disappear. Two, losing herself in the familiar motions of draw, aim, shoot, was easy and relaxing, similar to fixing her braid. It was something she had done so many times in her life that it was almost automatic, done without much conscious thought. And she needed to relax, because trying to use her Pyromancy had pushed her frustration levels to their peak. She knew it was just like learning to use the bow in the Plains, and it would take time and patience and more time. But that still didn’t stop her from getting fed up and disgusted with her failures.

Thus, why she was here. If she tried to make a stable flame for longer than a second one more time, she was going to scream, and then likely set something on fire she’d regret setting on fire later. So she kept practicing, relaxing herself. She wasn’t in the gym. Rather, she was outside in a clearly marked area. Shooting inside just felt…odd to her. Uncomfortable. She much preferred shooting outside, even if it got her a few odd looks. Aramir ignored these, and most other noises, and kept firing until her quiver was empty. Her hand reaching for an arrow that wasn’t there, she heard a commotion in the direction of the gate.

A familiar voice could be heard, while the words themselves couldn’t be made out. Aramir herself had never actually met Rurik, but she had heard his voice once and there was no way she was going to forget his interesting way of speaking. The alarm that could be heard from a few voices drew her curiosity. But first, she was going to get her arrows. Old habits die hard, and she wasn’t about to just leave arrows for anybody to take. Perhaps an unnecessary worry in the College, but a worry she had nonetheless. With her arrows safely recovered, Aramir headed towards the commotion, where the bloody dwarf was already being taken away by healers to the infirmary. “What happened?” She asked the human next to her. He glanced down, almost in surprise, and responded briefly. “Roc attack.” Aramir frowned. “What’s a R-“ But the man was already gone, along with most of the crowd who could possibly answer her question. Aramir cursed under her breath, and headed into the College, looking for someone who could answer her question. Preferably a teacher, but Alaira would do just as well. The elf did say that she had used to hunt monsters.

Alaira Taenn

Alaira sat there on the bench, Exhausted. She was currently trying to clench and unclench her fists, and while slow she was now successfully repeating the motion. A month ago that would have been impossible, but nothing is impossible if you're angry enough about it. After the fight with that demon she had somehow used so much of her energy that she messed up her brain or... something. She didn't know how any of this worked. Point was going all out was bad for her and it would have killed her if Sam hadn't helped her...

Anyway, Alaira had been sparring with Ssarak for about a month now, since she could walk, and once again she lost. He always insisted there wasn't any losers or winners but that was crap. It's a practice fight, but it's still a fight, and she lost. Say what you would about him, but the guy had a mean right hook. In any event, she wouldn't call herself fully recovered until she beat him, and that was a long way off. But she was close. In fact, she was healthy enough to fight, probably. Though nothing close to her former self she'd still be formidable. Her first act upon hitting the battlefield would be to beat some demons to death with their own spines.

Then Ssarak came by to talk. She listened and... Ugh, why did he have to be so- so logical? It was almost infuriating how reasonable the bastard was. In fact, she couldn't find fault with any thing he just said, which wouldn't stop her from finding something. Alaira rolled her eyes as she spoke. "Ugh, we've been over this, don't tell me what I can't handle! I don't need you telling me all the time..." She wasn't annoyed at his concern, far from it. It wasn't his fault, but when he said things like that he was constantly reminding her how fragile she was, how weak she was. "I'll just... I'm just gonna go... see you tomorrow..." She said as she got up and left.

She wandered for a bit, before finally arriving at her destination: a bench just outside Mar's room. They were likely going to get up soon, which meant she'd get to see Lyn. Lyn always cheered her up. Every time she felt down about her condition, visiting Lyn reminded her that she made the right choice. There wouldn't be much point in being in peak condition if that meant leaving Lyn to die... She had also become somewhat close to her parents, but not as much. They were good enough people, even if Mar had questionable opinions about men and Athalus was a dirty, dirty coward. Unless his daughter was in trouble, he'd man the fuck up whenever that was the case. She had grown quickly but... she'd seen stranger. As far as weird went, it was hard to top Coco after all...

Lucilia Riovas

Walking into the headmaster's office Lucilia was immediately able to see that Khan had been hard at work, as well as trying to hide something. His papers, while stacked neatly, were not organized; differnt files were piled on top of each other without any reasonable pattern, suggesting that he threw it together last minute. Additionally, if he was really prepared for Lucilia, he would have already had a chair ready for her. It's not like this routine was a new development, they've been doing this for at least two months. Something was on Khan's mind, but wasn't it always? He seemed nervous, which isn't usual given his occupation, but just a bit more so than usual. Not so much worried about something vital, because than he would have a much more serious look. Rather he had a air of a child who is trying to hide teh fact he hasn't eaten his vegetables. Which is when Lucilia noticed one of her vials partly obscured. Lucilia ignored Khan and headed strait towards his desk and plucked the medicine she prepared for Khan up to her face. Unopened since she gave it to Khan the day before.

"I will worry about the Archmage. I'm here for you. Take. Your. Medicine." Lucilia stretched out the vial to Khan, hiding the other two in her satchel. She looked at Khan with stern eyes, making ti clear to him that she has nothing more to say to him until she see's him, right here, take the medicine. All he had to do was open the vial and drink it. Bitter, yes, but that was medicine. It was keeping him alive and the poison within him from coming back to wreck his body. If it weren't for Rathel's vines attacking anything it perceives as a threat, which given it's demonic origins can be everything for any reason, she would have made a device that would allow her to plunge the concoction directly into Khan's body. "Khan... Please."

Annabeth Gulch

"The mind is a constantly shifting form. Only in death does it stay still. For that reason, you must be able to keep up with the mind who want to see into. Everyone move at their own speed. Some slower, others quicker, but neither is any more stronger than another, but at the same time, all of them can prove to be a challenge. To understand this and maintain the pace, to achieve a resonance, is key into seeing and manipulating the mind of others." Satori spoke as Annabeth sat on the floor with her eyes closed. She was focusing on Satori's various pets, each who had their own coherent thoughts. Over the two months Annabeth cut her hours at Underhaven to train with Satori. Annabeth was able to take the normal classes without much trouble, but her extra curricular classes was kicking her ass. Annabeth wasn't sure how Ssarak was able to keep up with her, because Satori's extra classes was had at least four times the amount of work her normal classes does. Annabeth only works a few times a per week now. Despite having to cut her job hours and the difficulty of the classes however, Annabeth has made progress.

"See into their minds. Emphasis with them. Do more then understand how to they think; think like them. Knowing how they see the world will allow you to show them exactly what you want them to see." Annabeth focused her mageblood within her and tried to use an illusion spell on the animals. She started with the cat at first. It was simply there because Satori was, and didn't think much of Annabeth. It wasn't even paying attention to the girl. Annabeth tried to get it to look at her, but even the cat's own mind thought that paying attention to Annabeth was out of the cat's character. So Annabeth used her illusions to change Annabeth into something the cat would look like. So she changed her appearance into Satori. This caught the cat's attention, looking at the doppelganger of it's master. Satori nodded her head and continued.

"Even among the same species, we all speak different languages. The language between mortals and beasts is an even larger gap, but one that can be overcome. Look into their minds and hear their thoughts. Make your own match their patterns, their cadence, and soon you can copy their very words." Annabeth changed her target to Satori's pet raven. It wasn't paying any attention at all, but because of arrogance, but because it was hungry and was looking at anything that was moving in the slightest. Sometimes this was Satori, sometimes the cat, sometimes Annabeth. Annabeth tried to understand it but she only got strange images and bird calls. So spent an unknown amount of time trying to make sense of these bird calls, echoing them back to Annabeth to no anvil. Satori spoke again. "Do not try to speak their language. Make them understand yours." Annabeth changed her approach. Instead of trying to mimic the raven's thoughts, she simply tried to translate Annabeth's own into the bird's language. It didn't work, but it did catch the bird's attention when Annabeth tried to communicate with it. It did so badly.

Satori smirked at Annabeth's attempt and began their last lesson. "Now know that the mind is just a tool of the body, like your hands or your mouth. And to master these tools, you need to train them. Create your wards Annabeth. Let us do battle." Annabeth took a deep breath and created a Focused Ward against Satori. Though the two never moved from their spot, in their mind Annabeth and Satori were sparring furiously. Well, Annabeth was. Satori attacked Annabeth with illusions of Satori moving towards her with a blade drawn. Annabeth remained guarded in her thoughts, knowing that Satori has not truly moved. Than Satori assaulted her mind with the sounds of the Raven, at first only making the occasional noise, but than squawking intensely. Annabeth was also able to ignore and cancel these illusions, knowing how far fetched they were. The last illusion Satori sent to Annabeth was the cat pouncing her. She initially dismissed the illusion as the cat grew ten times it's size into a small tiger, until Annabeth was physically knocked over.

Annabeth's eyes shot open and saw that Satori had pushed her over. "That wasn't fair." Satori helped Annabeth to her feet with a sly smile on her face. "Illusions are all about distractions. For you, you were able to cancel my illusions because you wanted to see and hear nothing. You thought this was only a battle of the minds, and only prepared yourself to fight with your mind. Because you only focused on stopping my illusions, you opened yourself to be attacked by me physically." Satori chuckled as she walked around Annabeth. "A good thing that you did however. When it comes to physical combat, you have me beat. With that in mind, remember that not all Illusions are made to hide the truth. Illusions are done to control how one thinks. I could have very much have come at you with a blade, both in reality and with my illusions, and your mind would have dismissed the illusion based on the thought that I would not really do such a think. In reality, the illusion was placed to make you think that what I did was an illusion. I could have still have done it physically, and regardless if you saw through my illusion or not, I would have killed you. Psychomancy allows you to see with your mind, but don't forget that you have eyes too, Annabeth. That was good practice nonetheless. You are dismissed."

Annabeth left Satori's class and was heading towards the courtyard now. It's been a long two months and a lot has happened. A lot of harrowing things, but the fact that she still lived meant that she was stronger than those things she faced. On Annabeth's belt was her longsword and her war axe, and her buckler rested over his backpack. Annabeth had heard from Underhaven that the college was fighting a shadow War against a powerful Demon Lord from the Inferno. The restrictions against carrying weapons have been lax as new guards have come in to maintain a stricter order. Before the college didn't seem to have much of a guard presence and everyone was expected to just go about their everyday business. But now the college felt a little bit less like a college and more like a fortress. You could see the guards everywhere not, not quite as extreme as back during the Winter Solstice feast, but if you shouted for help someone will hear you. Not to mention that the college now employes new guards, who are a little bit unsettling. Annabeth had talked to one, for the given value of "talk". They don't seem to want to make any conversation. They will answer questions if you need to say, know where the Infirmary is or where a teacher might be at. But they didn't talk when you asked them their name or how their day has been. Once when the college had to take out some troublemakers, they didn't show any anger or remorse when the guards drew their weapons and started attacking the troublemakers. There was no mercy, and it was a bloody slaughter. Even the golems had more personality and restraint.

As Annabeth wondered the halls she noticed something out at the courtyard. A small group of students and staff were around Rurik. Annabeth knew Rurik as a trader who would come to the college to hawk his wares sometimes. Annabeth brought a nice pair of gauntlets from him for a modest price, which she was wearing even now. But he didn't have his wagon or even his guards with him, and he was bloody. Concerned Annabeth went over to him. Unfortunately before Annabeth could get a to talk to him was taken away to the Infirmary. The only thing she managed to hear about what happened was "Roc Attack", which didn't tell her much. She didn't know what a Roc was in the first place.

Annabeth decided to do a bit of research and headed towards the library. She had a good feeling that she might have to deal with Roc in the near future and wanted to be prepared for it. On herb way she saw a odd sight; Leith. He was Ssarak's roommate and had a lot of rumors circulating about him. Him being a vampire, him being a demon, those were just the most common. While the truth is unknown to Annabeth, she did note that Leith's right hand was constantly covered in that demonic looking hand. Supposedly he can't remove it because it has been fused to his arm, or that it's possessing him preventing him from removing it. But he was still the same old Leith that Annabeth met a long time ago, and he was nice enough. He dropped his papers onto the floor so Annabeth ran over to him to help pick up his things. "Hey Leith. Need a hand?"

Leith yawned as he picked up his papers. He hadn't exactly slept that well for the past few days. Between his studies and insomnia he was starting to wear out. It was starting to become another cycle of issues that caused his insomnia. He couldn't sleep, which made the buzzing in his head more prominent, which caused him to be unable to sleep. It was a problem that he didn't want to address until he absolutely needed to. It was how it always happened, even before he had insomnia. As a child, he neglected to tell his parents that he was being ostracized because the other kids thought he was a vampire.

Hell, I don't think they even knew until after the fight a few years after the fact. Leith smiled at the memory before chuckling at how yawning brought his train of thought to memories of his childhood. His thoughts were cut off abruptly, however, when he heard someone speak behind him. He flinched and concealed a shout as stood up and spun around to see who spoke. It was Annabeth He gave her a embarrassed smile. "Ah, hello Annabeth. You startled me. And yes, a hand would be nice," he said as he went back to picking up some of the papers he got. "So, what brings you this way today?"

After leaving the training area Meirin swallowed a small handful of pills. They were suppose to be her "Sleeping" medicine, but she found out that what they did was help suppress her nightmares, both when she was asleep and when she was awake. Ever since the demon attacks, she's found it harder to fall asleep, or even think strait, without taking at least four or five of those pills. So far they haven't seen to affected her body, though she still found it hard to sleep simply because she couldn't. She hasn't seen Aruna in a while, so Meirin has had the room to herself this entire time. She tries not to think too much about what happened to her, but the emptiness of her room made it hard to focus on anything else. And so Meirin had to not only take more pills, but get new medicine to help her sleep. Nowadays she takes about ten pills a day just to maintain a sense of normalcy. It's been so routine that she hasn't realized how bizarre it is.

Speaking of routine, as Meirin was walking back to her dorm she saw Grey. She remembered their time together chasing down Zaad, as well as Grey breaking his arm, and the general bedlam that came after it. It was chaotic, but also fun. Too bad it happened during the same day the demon attack did, which immediately set off some harrowing thoughts in Meirin's mind. She paused for a few minutes before she managed to snap out of it and called out to the guardsman. "Hey Grey!"

Grey Onyx

As Grey 'patrolled' he heard a familiar voice and turned around. It was Meirin, the one that helped him chase Zaad down. He smiled and waved back as he approached, mostly glad that someone was talking to him at all (ever since the college started hiring those new guards and given out those 'zero tolerance' orders, the student body had become a lot more distrustful of the guard battalion. Most students wouldn't even look him in the eye as they passed him by in the hall).

"Good morning, Meirin. Is there anything I can help you with? Other than smithing requests..." Meirin was known to occasionally request... odd things from the forge. Weapons he'd never even heard of. the strangest ones were these multi-pointed bladed disc things, hadn't the foggiest clue how to even set about making them or, gods above, use them. About the only ones he knew who could were the Demonomancy teacher (who was always busy), and a particularly short-tempered half-elf (who was out of commission apparently). "Anything else though, I'm your guy."

"Not really. I was just heading back to my dorm to drop off my things." Meirin hasn't used her weapons much since the attack on the college. She had most all of them repaired, but the only ones that she's been using regularly were her star knives, and that was mostly when she was trying to kill time at night, throwing them against a straw target. Occasionally they'd chip or break and she'd commission new ones, but that was about as far as it went when it came to using her weapons. She's been working on her Weaving more often than not. "I just wanted to say hi. It's been a while since we've chatted. Zaad's not being too much trouble is he? Granted, I haven't seen him around lately. Or any demons for that matter." Though it scared people more often than not, Meirin found a morbid comfort with that forest of demon heads that the demonmancy teacher made. To Meirin, it showed that someone was serous about the demon threat and was going to go out of their way to fight them. Meirin even took the time to raise the money to get a Demon-Hunter Runes on her weapons.

Grey Onyx

Grey listened to Meirin speak, and replied. "No, I think they've got what few allied demons are left on a tight leash. Who could blame 'em? Personally, I'd like that forest of severed heads cleaned up. The Demonomancy instructor tells me it's to show we're serious about fighting them, but I think it makes the people think of us as warhungry barbarians. Real bad for diplomacy. Plus, it has an enormous negative impact on the morale of our guard battalion. The barracks are located right next to the damn place, and we're juuust close enough to have to sleep to the stench of dead demons. Also, most students don't like looking at severed heads, and there is a damned child here." Grey said, before looking surprised for a moment.

"Oh, sorry, uhh... Didn't mean to rant at you there... Heh." He said with a nervous smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyway, what's it like to be a mage? I can't imagine how one would control such power..."