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[sub][sub][h3]Luan Fields — The Aftermath.[/h3][/sub][/sub][hr][indent][color=728a71][i]S[/i]he had been sired on death and ruin before, all SOLDIERS were literally bred and cultivated for these finalisms of battle conduct and destruction; wrought by their hands and the endeavors of their foes marred already by the woes of the reaper. But, standing erect over the shredded membrane of [i]someone[/i] that flayed over twitching muscle and splintered bone was an experience that no drill, sequence or matrix input could properly formalize. In the remains of man she witnessed through the entrails a macabre series of anguish, despair wreathed in matters of crimson sorrows spread aloft on the wings of majestic fowl and wind. Evangeline's beloved Umbra displayed as a sentinel against the sun of Viera that was beginning to descend, the massive star encroaching further to the peaks of Esper Ridge where it awaited for Eagles that would never return to her spires. Quietly, her spear swirled down, twining through the remains with the emblazoned spear head providing the bedlam of chemistry as the blood of the infantry youth and the Eagle's desaturated remains combined through the alloy.

[i]So many have fallen. . .[/i]

Evangeline summoned her reflexes and pirouetted on the heel of her boot, digital frequencies sputtering to life in the media of voices and screams, each utterances propelled by signatures of pain laden in each cadence sputtered from their lips. Hydraulics hissed to life in the following sequences, the Behemoth groaning with the damage taken from the wrath of the terrible bird. The hatch yawned open from previously sealing shut to avoid the inner mechanisms from being wrought useless. The realization that they had sealed the fate of those who could not retreat into its' bulk crested over the hill in her consciousness, remains to the evidence that they had been [i]allowed[/i] to die to preserve the innards of the vehicle rather than their fragile hearts. Injustice, is what manifested beyond perpetual cheer and indulging simpers, and bi—coloured eyes mirrored the wrath she [i]should[/i] have conceived much like earlier at the death wish of her beloved, but instead she could not foster the concern, or care for those now gone. Not a blemish was located on either of them, nor scratch, and dexterous digits went bone-white at her knuckles from the wealth of sudden empathy swelling inside her breast.

[i]. . .Death happens, remember that.[/i]

Perhaps it was the report of the collateral damage that fixated her soul in a vice, or that — by the span of her eye — two of their comrades had fallen by exhaustion or injury. However, it remained that the Lieutenants were entirely too casual and nonchalant as they palmed through remains, turned bodies by their splintered shoulders and broke the chains of their tags for their collective. Evangeline turned away from the demented filing, the butt of her spear impaling through tainted soil by the grinding twist of her grasp, palm and skin burning and nerves screaming with the abuse that she could not feel. But, she could not forget that horrendous, manic laughter though was the grace that vocalized the entirety of the battle, manifesting literally in a blanket of pure, sweltering darkness akin to that which had tied and bound her heart. The blonde Saboteur took an involuntary step forward, and then back, her muscles fumbling with the electric impulses of her mind that could not concrete and fortify her will and desire to move towards the man responsible for such dementia. 

[i]And there is a wonderful luminescence that beckons to her; it's warmth, wonder, benevolence bidden by the shine of ethereal grace.[/i]

Evangeline's eyes rapidly blinked, attempting to dispel the illusion of feathery grace and might that had been there only seconds before, Quill shining like a beacon of hope in the midst of chaotic remains and blood and impaling the ground with a sword that rivaled the utility and power of every weapon brandished at hand. Her hand lifted, palm out and attempting to shutter the light that had eclipsed the field until it finally dissipated, leaving the silver healer in wonder. And she, true to her academic nature examined the rest of the SOLDIERS and the — what word could compound the might of their souls — exhibits of prowess some had suddenly shown. There were many inquires, a myriad of fascination and confusion that also fixated her own perplexity at what occurred here in the field. She knew that every SOLDIER broadcast a certain affinity for warfare and some were awarded with individuality in concerns to their might; but this... This went beyond conventional ability and skill at the swing of a blade.

Evangeline's gesture finally lowered, slowly and carefully, to witness the truth and evidence that all of the Eagles were destroyed and thus, left to rot in the Viera sun. She swung around back to the Behemoth, knowing some of their comrades had remained at the bunker, had they avoided injury and ruin? She desired, almost desperately, to lash out inquiries and amazement to what the battle field had yielded to them all, but the presence of the Lieutenants immediately shuttered off that near lunacy to find answers to the plight that plagued their minds.

	[color=d7d7d7]"We need to continue onto Zalera if we're to get you to the drop site in time, SOLDIER 155-7436-SB001."[/color] One spoke, voice eclipsed and a mere gruff murmur by the plate of his helm and mask. To be addressed as a number, an identification, rather than any of her given appellations made her lips arise and curl, the illustrious simper of her infamy carving dimples through cheeks.

	[color=9bab9e]"Oh, of course! Must not delay the quest!"[/color] Evangeline chirped, spinning Umbra through her digits, fingers fluid and almost purposely careless before her thumb punched, depressing a switch, and the spear clanked and whirred to its original measurements before she allowed the mechanism at her spine to holster it. [color=9bab9e]"Since you're done picking at the remains of [i]your[/i] infantry, I guess we can leave now, yeah? No reason to stay! We got this now."[/color] She thrust her index finger of her shoulder, proudly displaying the decay beginning to fester in the fields. Each of the Lieutenants spread out, addressing the SOLDIERS individually, indicating that they had to hasten departure — given no time to contemplate the aftermath or the results of the feud, no luxuries were awarded to [s]killers[/s] warriors.

	[color=d7d7d7]"Right... We ran a message to the base in Mrihl, and to Dalmasca, relaying the... new additions."[/color] He carried on, playing over her exuberance with a quiet performance of clearing his throat. [color=d7d7d7]"So far, no transmission has been returned and suspicions of their placement have been briefed, the President has ordered they travel with you to Mrihl before returning to the Base for interrogation."[/color]

	[color=9bab9e]"Suspicions of what?"[/color] She muttered, carefully glancing through the chaotic threads of her hair to glance at the trio on topic.

	[color=d7d7d7]"Among them is a SOLIDER with a.. history. His father was a deserter, labeled a SeeR sympathizer. Their discovery has gained some particular interest."[/color] The Lieutenant supplied, indicating briefly to the man in question that Evangeline defined as the original owner of the unique, two—pronged spear that had impaled the Eagle that she had reaped. Her face fell, contoured into curiosity, before her grin bled across the interest.

	[color=9bab9e]"Right, of course."[/color] She beamed, rejoinder laced in sarcasm and quip before she loped around the Lieutenant, calling out for Hally and the rest of the SOLDIERS whilst they engaged with their retrievers. Evangeline followed up the ramp of the vehicle, pondering on the fact that only moments before she had flipped out over this incline to herald the succession of battle and blinked, almost owlishly, at Cid before her countenance fractured into brief alarm and the memory of peering azure that struck her to the depths of her very spirit. She immediately ducked, slim fingers retracting back and palming through golden threads to assemble the gale—torn disarray it had become, to occupy her gestures and balm her erratic infections sired from both his presence and the death suffocating the fields of Luan.
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[sub][sub][h3][color=ffffff]Aboard the Behemoth — Checkpoint of Zalera.[/color][/h3][/sub][/sub][hr]
Those wounded had been attended to with basic functions of medicine, appliances of balms and careful patches to conceal wounds with the promise that full infirmary privileges would be provided in Mrihl. The check point at the border of Luan and Zalera was brief, but the atmosphere was dreaded and weighed heavily, many of the infantry grunts were dead, more than half sacrificed and burned. Upon their departure, the Lieutenants had taken special capsules from their ebony coats and detonated them upon pressure and friction, setting flame to the remains of Eagles and man alike. Evangeline found it proper, to decimate all traces of the battle, but found a hint and reflection of sorrow in the action of literally erasing them to naught but ash. She did not voice such aloud, taking to reclining against Hally for the duration of their journey into the tundras of Zalera. The paneling of screens shimmered in hues of indigo and violet, darkening to sullen ebonies as the sun of Viera descended and the moon heralded within place, a pale silver sphere suspended in the blanket of gloom and stars.

The temperatures in Zalera were obvious in the peculiar frigidness that had settled in the hull of the Behemoth, making Evangeline curl up tighter against Hally's flank as the drivers signaled out with their voices at each crossing of a small town or city. The roads here beginning to bear evidence of their machinery—crafted origins by stone, and sometimes, blackened rock. Originally, they were to be given halfway into the frozen climate and to trek the remainder of the destination on foot, however, given the circumstances of the wounded and time allotted, the Lieutenants and provided drivers had proffered, through hesitation, to see them entirely to the borders of Mrihl. It appeared like hours, each increment of time spanning into near eternity that almost drove Evangeline near madness until she surrendered herself to rest, sleep dragging at her lashes until she succumbed. 

[center][color=000000][i]There was silver feathers suspended into obsidian tar; and a gargantuan eye that wept poison and a mouth riddled with needles; but there was no fear here. Only wonder. . .[/i][/color][/center]
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[sub][sub][h3][color=ffffff]Zalera Tundra — Mrihl.[/color][/h3][/sub][/sub][hr]
The whirs and clanks of machinery became the announcement of their official arrival, the cheerful and perpetually thrilled blonde rousing from her rest with a small grimace at the kinks in her neck. Only slow rotations of the muscles bundled there providing any comfort as the visual feed of Mrihl's borders illustrated to their viewing pleasure. Evangeline unbuckled the harness fixating her into place, approaching the panels once more to peer at the port—town slumbering idly into the night. Few lights flickered to life, orange glows dotting the landscape and leading a fascinating trail to the manor that, she assumed, belonged to the Baron that would be providing them proper lodgings. The prospect of rest was alluring, but she doubted she'd be able to garner any sort of slumber in the comforts of a bed, it was surprising enough she had managed to gather small moments of reprieve in the Behemoth, but she supposed she owed that entirely to Hally.

A pair of the Lieutenants descended into the hatch then, helms ominous as one of them moved around Evangeline and punched the ramps controls, allowing the door to squeal open and the ramp to drop. Silence blanketed the gathered warriors of Galbadia, not even the usual source of cheer and bright simpers providing any of her quips and laughter to the situation at hand. This was the initial introduction of their mission, this is where everything would begin, this is where they would commence to prove their worth at the bereavements of fellow man instead of fantastical creatures of winged admiration and terror.

The Lieutenants vacated the vehicle first, followed by Evangeline and the rest of the assigned crew that slowly made way into Mrihl, crossing the threshold of the town's borders and swiftly marching the streets towards the manor of the Baron under the blanket of the latest hours that was suffocating in its darkness.

The manor was indeed wreathed in splendor and befitting to the town, it was of older origins and time, almost vintage in the masonry and woodwork displayed in the flickering glow of the lights lit for their convenience. The doors slowly yawned wide, creaking on hinges and allowing a glimmer of light to shine on down the steps of stone and to the contingent of SOLDIERS gathered at the base where the street was flush with the method of entry. The Lieutenants performed salutes and dips of respect, in which Evangeline bothered naught to repeat, but only to examine the sounds slowly encroaching from somewhere in the manor, approaching at almost a luxurious pace. Bi—coloured eyes narrowed, carefully at the inceptive introduction of not the Baron but a man that could only belong in her own ranks: a SOLDIER. He was tall, elongated like many of their particular troupe, broad in every aspect and glamourous to her appraisal. Sheathed in armour, he was imposing, but the depths of eyes bespoke of an inter laden kindness and cheer that could champion and reflect to her very own.

	[color=d7d7d7]"Oh my..."[/color] A quiet voice spoke aloud, following up behind the SOLDIER Evangeline had wed her examination to. The Baron of Mrihl was a peculiar man in appearance, lanky, tall — towering like Kain — and simply all joints and marrow sealed in an ecru complexion. Ebony hair was twined down his spine in a thin tail, small pieces fallen away to frame high—set cheeks bones that cradled eyes of a cavernous greenery like the forests located in Baanga. [color=d7d7d7]"I wasn't expecting this number of SOLDIERS."[/color] He carried on, descending down the steps with his own SOLDIER following in pursuit: a guardian then, Evangeline deduced and regarded him as such before the Baron spoke once more.

	[color=d7d7d7]"This is.. only slightly problematic, but fixable. You all look entirely exhausted."[/color] His eyes swept over the remains of blood, flaked, and those still bound with wounds before the proportions of his countenance split and fractured at the obtuse grin breaking across. [color=d7d7d7]"Come inside, please, we'll see you tended to and bedded within the hour."[/color]
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