Lora Kadar and Sarah

The girl continued running from Lora so she changed course; she sprinted towards where her spear had stuck in the ground, twisting and ducking to avoid the continuing arrows. She grabbed the shaft and wrenched the weapon from the ground, and then leapt to the ground. Lora rolled out and parallel to Sarah, turning to look at her and knocking an arrow away with her spear.

“How many arrows do you have?” Lora called, turning to the girl with bewildered amusement. They just kept coming. “Is that a magic quiver, by chance?”

"Hey, you're catching on!" Sarah gave a laugh as she briefly came to a stop. She drew another arrow, spinning it quickly in between her fingers before aiming again. "I've had it for a little while! After all if I just ran out of arrows I'd be kind of... useless after a few minutes, wouldn't I? Your spear is pretty normal though, isn't it?"

Lora lingered on the ground when Sarah stopped, taking the pause in their fighting to catch her breath and push down the pain in her arm. She heard the girl’s hesitance and grew more confident in her previous assertion—all she needed to do was reach her and she’d be on top.

She glanced down at her spear and smiled gently, glancing back up again. “As normal as the rest of me,” Lora offered, one of her ears twitching in amusement as she winked at Sarah. And then she jumped up, launching towards the girl.

"Oh well that's good, if there's no tricks I have to worry about then I should be fine oh Divines what are you doing?!" Sarah went from genuinely cheerful to genuinely surprised as she leaped backwards, eyes widened at Lora's sudden assault. Quickly she began unleashing arrows once more, almost at a desperate pace as she realized she was getting closer and closer to the wall of the arena.

"Will you just please be hit by one of these already? I won't aim for anywhere important, I swear!"

Lora pushed against the ground harder, skipping between the arrows and barely making it out unscathed. She could hear the surprise and see the desperation starting to fester, and even more importantly she could see the wall looming close behind Sarah.

She almost laughed at the girl’s plea, but instead narrowly avoided getting stuck in the stomach. “You hit my arm earlier!” she called, moving said arm out of the way of another arrow. “I think it’s your turn to be hit!” Lora offered politely, spinning on her heel to gain momentum and hurling the spear at Sarah’s middle once more.

"Not yet!" Sarah exclaimed, even as she dove to the side. The move was desperate, just to avoid the spear entirely as it stuck into the wall. She rolled, turning back around to jump up and face the rapidly approaching Lora once again, in order to fire off once again. It was only a single arrow, though, as she instead brought both hands to the wood of her bow, as if preparing for something.

Sarah dove without running, and that was the opening she needed. Lora rushed forward at the girl, almost close enough to grab her. But there was just enough space for Sarah to clamor for her bow and send off one arrow—Lora let it plunge into her as she lunged at Sarah, the arrow sinking into her stomach as she made to tackle the girl to the ground.

Sarah yelled out even as she went down, arms flailing up and around. Though the movement seemed to be wild, there was a purpose to it that was yet to be revealed mostly because the two of them hit the ground hard. Sarah's head bounced against the ground heavily as she let out an, "Oof." It may have been looking bad for her, but she wasn't done yet. With her free arms up above her head, she brought her bow down onto Lora heavily, exclaiming, "Let me go!"

The slam of the bow on her head resounded through her stomach, making Lora cry out as the arrow jostled around. She winced and grabbed at Sarah’s wrists, pushing her hands away long enough to straighten and snap the arrow stuck in her stomach. She grunted and took a deep breath, turning back to Sarah and making to snatch the bow from her hands.

Sarah rolled away in order to avoid the grab, along her side. With the movement she jumped back up, in order to swing the weapon with both hands like a club, right at Lora's head once again. "Just stop already, this is ridiculous!"

“By all means,” Lora began, wincing as she deflected the bow with her bad hand and held tight to it. She wrenched it forward to pull Sarah back down to her and let out a growl. “Yield, please. I don’t want to hurt you, really.”

"Ugh!" Sarah groaned loudly, trying to keep a hold of her bow before suddenly letting it go, as if in an attempt to throw Lora off balance from the sudden lack of resistance. She immediately followed it up with a full body shove from herself, though that did very little all things considered.

Lora fell back only slightly when Sarah let go, tossing the bow aside and grabbing Sarah as she made contact and tried to shove her. Lora used the girl’s attempt to pull them both back to the ground, rolling to pin Sarah to the ground.

Once more, Sarah started to struggle, but it was useless. She groaned loudly once again, finally huffing as she went limp, her eye twitching several times. "Fine, fine! I give up! You win!"

Lora grinned, letting go and sitting back on her heels over Sarah. “See?” she offered warmly. “That wasn’t so hard. Good fight,” she nodded, the sharp ache in her stomach and arm starting to surface. “Are you okay?” Lora asked, uncomfortably aware of the steady flow of blood saturating her shirt front. The girl didn’t seem too damaged anywhere, except perhaps in ego.

"Hmph! I'm fine, I'm all fine here now, thank you! How are you?" Very clearly Sarah was extremely disgruntled, crossing her arms even as she continued to lie on the ground, just staring up to the ceiling.

Lora frowned at the girl’s displeasure, before glancing down to face the reality of her body’s condition. “Well, actually—Oh! I think I’m bleeding on you a little, my apologies!” Lora rolled off the girl and sat up gingerly, cradling the half of the arrow still stuck and trying to sop up the dripping blood with her sleeves.

"Just keep it covered." Sarah groaned this as she remained where she was on the ground, just sighing loudly as she placed both of her hands behind her head, remaining on the ground.

Lora did just that, pressing the fabric around it tightly against the wound and scooting back to lean against the wall. “You might be a little happier,” she pointed out, “you did very well for the most of it! I quite enjoyed that.”

"Yeah it was a good fight, just wasn't my match up." Sarah sighed again, still not moving, even if she wasn't injured at all, really. "I'm sure Badain will finish things off, though."

Lora’s frown returned, beginning at the girl’s shift of attitude from pleasant and fun to unpleasantly sour and growing when the girl mentioned what she could only assume to be another fighter. “Badain?” she asked, her tone short for the first time that day. “Who is he fighting?”

"Oh, the blue haired guy?" Briefly, she looked up, and then she dropped back down afterwards. "Yeah, that's him!"

Only briefly did Lora’s eyebrows furrow, until she caught Cyril’s figure fighting another man, and then her eyebrows slanted down in worry. After a moment of watching them, her eyebrows converged once more in defiance.

“If you think Badain will win, you really have no idea who he’s fighting.”

Dalious vs Tihn

At the mistaken name Tihn just rolled his eyes, shaking his head some. In his right hand he held the dagger that he had stabbed Dalious with in a regular grip, briefly wiping it against his pants. In his left hand he held the other dagger in the reverse grip still, beginning to step forwards at a slow pace.

Suddenly he began to move forward at a much quicker pace. His left arm snapped forwards, flinging the dagger in that hand straight at Dalious as he continued to approach, drawing the dagger he kept a hold of back.

Dalious swayed away from the daggar, then backed into a fencing stance. One arm was behind the back and the other defending the attacks. He backed, step by step, blocking and swaying until he saw an opportunity in the footwork. He stepped off and lunged aside, rolling and picking up his second dagger from the ground in the process. He moved back up to his feet and held both blades to his sides.

"What's in the bags?" he wondered.

As Dalious took the time to retrieve his dagger, Tihn did the same for his own weapon that he had thrown just moments before. Rather than keeping it out however, he instead sheathed it once again as his hand went back to one of the bags, briefly reaching inside before pulling out a clenched hand. Once more he went on the assault, keeping the closed hand back as he attacked with the dagger in his right.

Quite suddenly, he flung the left hand out and down, uncurling his fingers. A dark, almost dust-like substance was flung to the ground, and upon impact it sparked before popping with small explosions in a flash. Though the sudden flare of heat was surprising, it didn't actually burn Dalious as it was aimed just before his feet, and was used to distract so that Tihn could suddenly swing in with another blow.

The pirate was expecting some sort of shattered glass or sand when the opponent grabbed from the bag. He focused on deflecting his attacks the best he could, but his main priority was blocking whatever substance the guy was about to throw into his eyes. Finally it came, and he raised one of his daggers across his face and closed his eyes briefly, while turning his head slightly and simultaneously raising his second dagger in a blind attack.

It wasn't what he thought it would be, though, as a spark came from the floor. It didn't phase him, and his blind attack managed to block the oncomers real intended strike in a loud 'clank' that rung through the arena. The attack was so hard as it was blocked that it sent a spiraling jolt through Dal's body, also pushing him back a bit. It was an unnerving feeling that made him sick to his stomach, or maybe that was the night before's rum.

"I had to ask..." Dalious said, spitting to the ground and shaking his head. "Now I'm really not remembering your name."

The brief second he had was enough to gather himself. He lunged forward, faking a strike with the left weapon and swiping the opposite direction with the right. Then he spun around in a half circle in the direction he was already moving, bringing both blades at Tihn.

With Dalious' attacks Tihn began to backpedal, deftly dodging and avoiding the first attack by Drosil. He did so by ducking back and forth and leaning back with his steps. With the dodges his hand went back to his pouch, resting inside of it as the man waited and waited for an opportunity to be presented by Dalious.

"Tihn."

The moment came with the double blow from the pirate, and as it came Tihn once more flung his hand forwards. The strange dust-like substance was tossed forwards, in the path of Dalious' blows. The man leaped backwards as the pirate's blows passed through, and when Dalious' blades inevitably struck even one bit of the substance the initial ignition was enough to send the entire cloud up in a sudden, quick flash of heat and light.

The burst of light blinded the man in an instant, as he came falling back down to the floor. His instinct formed into a roll upon the ground until he was even again. Immediately he tossed a dagger at where he remembered Tihn was, then stood back up with his eyes closed and a clenched face. A bit of blood trickled down his eyes as he put both hands on the hilt of the single dagger.

"You fight...like a pirate," he spoke. The man considered magic and trickery to be cheating when it came to a one on one fight, which was usually why he was always the one in previous contests that used a lot of foolery. His options were limited in this particular fight, however, and he had no choice but to accept it for what it was. "You remind me of myself, mate. That just won't do."

He stood still, both hands still upon the hilt of his blade. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the movements around him. He could vaguely hear the others as they fought, but his senses zoned in on the man across from him.

"Go on," Dalious told him. "Finish what you started."

The dagger that was tossed at Tihn failed to hit its target as the man spun away from it, eyes coming to rest on Dalious once again. With the man relatively blinded Tihn felt no need to pursue just yet. There was no need to be impatient, despite what the pirate may have said to him. Even though Dalious couldn't see, his opponent just shook his head slightly at what the pirate said.

"That comes off as an insult, you know."

He held his dagger up carefully, before drawing the other. There was no need for the powder at the moment, not with his opponent already blinded. He took slow, light steps around the pirate, holding both weapons in a reverse grip. His movements were slow, carefully, as he continued circling around the pirate... before, quite suddenly, he took several light steps that were much quicker than before, circling around the pirate to his back before he suddenly lunged forwards, bringing up both daggers to stab them down towards Dalious' neck.

Dalious remained quiet in response. Everything zoned out in the silence for the moment. He found his mind quickly bringing up a memory he had once played out. The ocean, in all its glory and splendor, was the last time he remembered it ever being this dark and still. He found peace under the waves, where everything seemed to be more simple. He had a glimpse in his thoughts of the tiger shark that once attacked him. He knew it was there with him, but could not see the animal. The rush he felt when it swam near to him and attacked, when his instincts from practicing movements in the waters kicked in. His natural fluid like motion drifted aside and just out of reach from its jaws. He remembered grabbing the fin and being pulled alongside the creature as he found the split moment of time for his escape back to the ship.

He felt that rush now. Just before the attack, his instincts set in. Dalious ducked down and swayed backward out of the way, toward the opponent and then behind him. In the same motion, he brought his left hand up bringing his dagger to the man's throat while his other hand clenched his hair. His blade pressed against Tihn's adam's apple and he paused.

"Yield," Dalious said, somehow finding himself not wanting to kill the man.

Tihn blinked in surprise, eyebrows slowly furrowing. For a moment, he seemed to consider his options, before he sighed and shrugged slightly. Very slowly he brought his blades down, sheathing them with another sigh and giving a nod. "Very well then, if you insist. Well played."

"Really?" Dalious started. "I was hoping you'd have something ill to say, so that I may shower the arena's floor with a spectacle of blood and glory. Fair is fair, though." He released his blade from the man's throat and sheathed it as well. "You fight well Tihn, I will not forget your name. If I do not see again, it is your ugly mug that I will be cursed to have forever embedded within my mind, as you are the last I was to see."

He gave a slight respectful bow, then turned to walk away but realized he was still blind.

"Uh...a little help?"

Chi groaned and rolled her eyes as she clutched her side. She had to admit, her opponent packed a pretty good punch. However, whether she was groaning out of pain from the hit or the pun was hard to tell. She straightened up, stretching her torso slightly as if to put any bones that were misplaced back where they were supposed to be.

Alice’s eyes widened a fraction as she watched the other woman’s bones shift back into place. She was going to say another snappy line but the bone user had beaten her to the punch; both literally and verbally. The bo staff in her hands was gripped a bit tighter as a more defensive stance was taken for the likely brutal onslaught.

“Enough with the puns.”

She withdrew her bone sword back into her arm, bending her head down slightly as she reached for her neck. Without so much as a grimace, she dug her hand into her neck and proceeded to pull something out. It was about as long as her, though as she continued to pull it out, it seemed to get longer and larger in size. By the time it had come out, she was hunched over slightly.

’Oh for the love of-’ Alice felt her skin crawl as she couldn’t help but watch the body change infront of her.

She had taken out her spine.

”Oh come the fuck on!” She exclaimed as all of her knowledge of the human anatomy went right out the window.

The edges of her vertebrae had sharpened into curve-like blades, ready to wrap and slice through whatever got caught in the middle. Her eyes, which had gone from their usual pink hue to a somewhat magenta color, were swirling with more reds than pinks.

“We’ll see who’s making jokes now.”

Oh she just couldn’t resist.

“You know...for someone so small it seems size really does matter.” The wicked grin that spread across her face showed the lack of regret.

It was hard to tell whether that was the the final straw or not. Chi practically growled and bared her teeth as she went lunging towards Alice, dragging the giant spine-whip behind her before sending it in Alice’s direction. She didn’t care which limb it attached to, just as long as she was able to get in a good beating.

A string of curses came out as Alice lept backwards. She’d been able to dodge the first swing of the spine whip with a well placed dive roll. However, on the second swing she’d been a fraction of a second too late and received a sizable gash across her right thigh. Alice’s leg buckled under her as she maintained weight upon her left side. What she wouldn’t give for her guns right about now.

The wound Alice sustained didn’t seem to be enough to fulfill Chi’s sudden bloodlust. She continued forward, moving her whip so that it would wrap around Alice. Somewhere in Chi’s mind, she remembered that she wasn’t allowed to kill and twisted the whip so the blades wouldn’t dig into Alice’s guts.

The bo staff would once again fall to the arena floor as Alice was caught in the wrap of the bone whip. She’d have to thank the girl later for not using those wicked blades on her...although the dozens of smaller cuts were just enough to make her open her mouth once more.

“You know,” She struggled to keep standing and keep a steady breathing rate at the tight wrap around her body, “I find it tibia little humerus that you’re such a bare bones fighter. I do have to say you definitely sockit to me in this fight.”

She wiggled in the hold for another moment.

“Do me a favor and loosen this up would ya?” Her smirk turned into a full blown grin.

“You’re tickling my ribs.”

With the whip in her hand, Chi actually tightened its grip on Alice. She tried not to do anything rash as she listened to her go on and on with the bone puns, but the last one took the cake. Without so much as a warning, Chi turned and sent a roundhouse kick to Alice’s pretty face.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

Alice's world easily went black and when she slumped over unconscious, Chi withdrew the whip from around her and set it into her back. She tilted her neck a few times and bent over backwards in an attempt to crack everything back into place. She glanced over at Alice's unconscious body and gave a slight smirk.

"For all your stupid puns, you put up a good fight."

Thuraya gave a wicked smirk as her tail entered the other's shoulder, allowing her poison to secret down to the wound. Her smirk changed to a wincing grin as the bullet found it's mark in her own shoulder, yet managed to hold her ground. Her eyes moved from her stinger, to his gun, then directly into the man's eyes before they were pushed away from one another.

She brought in her arms and straightened her tail again to roll as safely as possible, though as she stood and stepped over to her sword to pick it up, she started to really feel the heat that her adrenaline had pushed aside. Reaching with her left hand she nearly dropped the blade, though caught it in her right hand. 'Right handed then... This will get interes...ting...?' as her eyes lifted to face the once-was scrawny little mage, her emerald eyes widened. The pain in her shoulder seemed agitated further by the heat he created to appear before her, causing her left hand to raise against it the best it could, right hand holding the sword out. 'Oh yes... very interesting..'

"Finally! You show me some potential!" she called to him, letting out a little laugh. "I was beginning to worry this wouldn't be fun!" While the intimidation factor did set in, and his aura making it greater still, she held her ground. She had a promise to keep. A personal promise to win. For Seryosa, Thuraya would not back down here. That said, his last statement to her caused her to grab hold of her greatsword with both hands and once more, charge in at her opponent. She pushed all the cares for his towering stance and massive blade; all the pain he'd caused her - the scrapes, burns and even the still-bleeding, searing bullet wound to her shoulder to the side as she ran in. Sword dragging slightly as she first took off and leaped at him for a strong cleave.

"If fun is what you'e looking for, I'm sorry to say that you've only found yourself a beating." Shadar responded, reacting to her charge by sliding up his hand to grip the blade and raising it to easily block the woman's swing, not letting out so much as a grunt of effort while he held back her attack. This would be soon followed by him shifting his footing and the positioning of his blade to divert her's away from him before he released his hold on the grip to lash out with a savage backhand fist towards her face, likely rattling her attic quite a bit if it hit. He'd then follow this up by attempting to grab her by the throat, squeezing down with a painful amount of force as he would lift her high into the air, before throwing down onto the ground hard enough to cause her battered form to bounce off the ground.

Whether or not he succeeded in this maneuver, he'd still slowly back away from her, turning the blade over in his hand so that he was holding it the right was and letting it slide towards the ground until his clawed hand could grip the handle again.

"You're not going to win this fight, girly, so stop wasting my time and concede already. You've got skill, but not the right kind to take me down."

Even as he spoke, Shadar readied himself again, knowing that his words were likely falling on deafened ears. This woman would fight until dead or unconscious, and he wasn't about to make this more annoying by trying to keep her alive. If she didn't heed his warning, he'd likely kill her or wound her severely, especially since he wasn't even using the full arsenal available to him. This fight would've probably been finished by now if Drosil didn't feel the need to appear in person. Damn fool.

As strike was blocked and words spoken, it only filled her with more rage. She'd earned a beating? She could only laugh a moment but in her cockiness of attempting another swing she found it flung aside and her neck in his grasp. Blade fell after only a moment, clattering onto the ground. Hands moved upward, grasping at his fingers she pulled lightly, tail coming up to attempt stabbing at his hand.

She wasn't sure if she'd been able to land her sting or not. Before she knew her body was hurling downward. A rather loud cry was let loose as she landed, reaching for her blade from her place on the floor. Had to roll a bit and grasp it's blade for a moment to pull it closer carefully and got the hilt in hand as he backed away from her. Struggled to her feet, her tail seemed slightly crooked now, as she stood, and it's strength seemed to be completely gone. As she stepped forward again, her tail seemed to drag slightly, it's exoskeleton cracked in some places, allowing for blood to smear across the ground as it dragged along.

"Not... N-not going to win?" she asked, voice soft. "I made a promise... that I intend to keep!" she allowed her tone to pick up then, and despite the pain, she grabbed her blade in left hand first then right, and ran into battle once more. Sword flung upward chaotically - her precision and focus not quite what it had been. She blinked a few times, hard, trying to focus more as she went for another strike just as clumsy as the first. Head hurt, shoulder burned, tail was a killer. But she'd made a promise to win. "F-for Seryosa...!" So quickly she'd fallen to this new power of his. Yet she would never allow herself to fall to weakness. Instead, she would let rage fuel her - not always the smartest choice, but in her eyes, she had no choice now.

The girl's attempts to pierce Shadar's armor with her tail were for naught, as all she managed to do were put a few more nicks into before he brutally slammed her body into the dirt. He'd hoped the girl had the sense to give in while she could still stand, but before she spoke a single word, he could tell that she wasn't going to listen to reason, the anger was burning to wildly for that to be considered as an option. So, as he listened to her pathetic dribble about some promise, he prepped himself for the inevitable charge. And what a charge it was, with a clumsy upward swing from below that would've been lucky to hit the broad side of a barn.

". . . what a fool. Shadar muttered with a click of his teeth, dodging the first blow with a quick step to the side, than blocking her second blow with the same ease as before. Looking at the girl's stance and position, as well as sensing her mental state, he decided that it was time to end this farce before she embarrassed herself any longer. Taking a step forward, he'd let out a roar of effort as he shoved his blade upward, one that would come off as many times louder and more monstrous thanks to the magic that was currently surrounding him. His aim was to disarm her with the sudden movement, as he'd put all his strength into the upward swing, likely sending it high into the air. Next, he'd lash out with a back hand across the girl's face, again using a great deal of his inhumane strength in order to put her down for good. If the hit connected, it'd likely rattle her attic and bring her close to unconsciousness. He'd then go to kick her legs out from under her in order to bring her crashing to the ground, before stepping down on her tail, hard, likely cracking the exoskeleton quite a bit more with the weight behind the blow as he brought up his weapon and brought it down right next to her face, the edge tickling her neck as he loomed over her like some Dark god of death, his white eyes glowing with disgust at the figure underneath him.

"If you really wish to prove yourself to your Chief, than stop embarrassing yourself and accept defeat with dignity. Make no mistake, if you continue to struggle, I will give no more warnings and no more chances. I will slay you were you stand, and then you'll not only break your promise, but have her last memory of you be of a foolish child that couldn't wait to rush to their death. So I'll only say this once, Surrender or die!"

Shadar's deep, rumbling voice came out in a thunderous wave, and his blade would press itself closer and closer to Thuraya's neck until it drew blood, the crimson ichor dancing along the obsidian black surface as it trailed it's way down the weapon.

With sword away from grasp, she gave a poor attempt to avoid his strike to her head, as well as the sweep under her legs, she fell to the ground once more. Turning herself the best she could to not land on her tail again. She held back the welling in her eyes initially, vision blurred and body weak, she attempted to pick herself up again only to be brought crumbling down with the heavy weight on her tail. She couldn't hold back then. Body curled up on the ground, tail twitching as though trying to go around her to protect, yet unable from the breaks at the end, and foot at it's mid section, she could only scream out in pain. Eyes welled. Would've flinched from the blade coming down right next to her, but didn't have the energy, nor the consciousness to do so.

His words seemed muffled to her, and the feeling of blade on neck was barely noticed by her mind, yet managed to get a soft sob. What she had heard of his muffled words, she decided to ignore, but knew her own limits. She worked to stop her tears, though all it did was make her think of the pain she was in. Limp, yet full of effort, arm rose, hand's palm toward him to silently ask he stop. She held it there, arm shaking as she struggled to keep it up, but eventually it fell to the floor with the rest of her body. A soft breath escaping carrying words barely a whisper; "Seryosa... I-... I'm so sorry.."

As soon as the scorpion woman gave her surrender, Shadar removed the blade from her neck, the spell he'd cast on himself dispersing now that it was no longer needed. He looked down on her sobbing form with neither satisfaction, nor remorse present within his glowing white eyes. He'd done what he had to do to get the fight over with quickly and efficently. It would've been cruel and insulting to try and go easy on her, especially since he technically was by giving her all of those warnings. If he truly wanted to, he could've killed her nearly as soon as he got his hands around her neck, either by crushing her windpipe or deciding to use the Ifrit's powers and burning her alive.

With a click of his teeth, he turned away from the woman to look at his surroundings, noting how the other fights were progressing with moderate interest. So far, Barcea seemed to have only suffered one loss in the Paladin's assistant, to which Shadar couldn't help but feel an ounce of satisfaction in his death. One less stupid zealot to sing the praises of absent or uncaring gods.

Now if only a similar accident could happen to his master, ha, now that would be grand.

Shadar sheathed his sword, seeing no reason to prepare himself for battle at the moment, and contented himself to watch the ither matches, hoping to get this over with sooner rather than later. From his memories, Drosil was in pretty bad shape due to his own poor decisions and over-reliance on the Ifrit's manifestation to compensate for his lack of close combat skill. He'd need quite a bit of medical care before he could summon something to help heal him more completely.

A wave of exclamation surfaced through the crowd as Vesta caught an explosion of energy from out of the corner of her eye, but she had no time to parse together what had actually occurred. She had to take down Oubera. The foe in front of her was acting as if, or perhaps actually incapable of, feeling any pain, whereas she could feel the aching bones in her nose and the throbbing pain in her knee. She knew exactly how much more strain she could take before she would be unable to fight any more; the man, however, probably wouldn't realize he had overexerted himself before it was too late. She could use that against him.

Shuffling forward, she feinted a strike towards his head with her scabbard before deftly drawing her blade with her left hand and slicing it towards the ligaments of one of his elbows. Her hands moved like a whirlwind. If he noticed her feint and used his mass to hold onto her blade again she would let go of her scabbard and tear at the back of his knee with her whittling knife; if he tried swinging his warhammer she would keep pushing closer and continue to slash at his joints. Either way, she was not planning on relenting her assault unless he found a way to force her back. Vesta knew that she wouldn't be able to move in on him with her bad knee much longer.

Even at Vesta's (admittedly slow) approach, Oubera held his ground and remained relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that he pulled his cut hand from his weapon again, wiping it against the furs he wore in the time he had on her approach before drawing it back over to the weapon. As she began to swing his eyes narrowed, remaining locked on the hilt of her blade rather than the scabbard itself. Perhaps he was expecting the feint, or perhaps he was simply unconcerned with a blunt blow, but whatever the reason he was prepared for the strike from the blade.

He did not attempt to catch the blade again, nor did he attempt to swing with his warhammer to strike or block, at least not immediately. Instead, he did what Vesta simply couldn't, suddenly pushing off with both feet to leap forwards in a sudden bull rush. The gap was closed and he crashed into her with his right shoulder, easily sending the smaller woman up and then down off her feet, to the ground. Only then did the man swing with his weapon, bringing it up and then down in a massive two-handed blow that was aimed to crush through her head to the ground.

Her scabbard was dislodged from her hand as the mass of muscle crashed into her, but Vesta managed to keep her grip on her sword. She felt her knee more or less give away as she landed on the ground with a hard thud. She had no time to catch her breath, and as Oubera began to bring his hammer down she was had already rolled onto her side. As chunks of rock and dirt peppered the back of her skull, Vesta twisted her right arm back and locked it around the shaft of the warhammer. She knew the man was likely strong enough to break her hold, but hoped that it would serve as enough of a distraction to keep him from noticing the movement of her left hand as she quickly slashed at his ankles.

She managed to slash one ankle with her attack, simply because the other was already moving. As soon as she had grabbed the warhammer Oubera had lashed out with a kick, and as the sharp metal of her blade cut into his flesh his heavy foot crashed into arm, a less than pleasant crack sounding out on the impact. With the slash he almost tumbled, the foot he kicked with coming down heavily to keep him from going down entirely. For the briefest of moments confusion flashed over his face, but it almost immediately passed as he instead reached out for her, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck to fling her away before he struggled to stand once again.

Vesta landed on the ground once again, twisting her body in such a way to avoid even more injury and to quickly allow herself to sweep up into a sitting position. There was no way she was going to be able to get up to her feet. Cursing under her breath and trying to ignore the pain, she let her sword fall to the ground with a clatter and slung her bow off of her body—she was extremely thankful the hard wood had not splintered during their scuffle. As Oubera struggled to stand, she unscrewed the cover on her quiver and quickly nocked and fired two arrows in quick succession at his center mass. If the man did not close the distance she would continue to try and turn him into a pin cushion; the second he began moving to her she would be ready to grab her sword, twist to mitigate whatever blow came her way, and thrust her weapon as deep into any flesh that she could find.

Oubera brought both arms up in front of his chest as he turned his body, stopping just before he could completely stand. Both arrows found their mark in his arms, though he barely flinched. His hands moved, going to each arrow to break away the fletchings of them before he started to proceed forwards once again. Moving with a staggering sort of limp, the big man closed the distance as quickly as he could. He only came to a stop as he reached the point where he could use his warhammer, already lifting the heavy weapon to bring another swing down towards her once more.

As the man staggered towards her like a wounded ox, Vesta slung her bow back over her chest and grabbed her sword. Steadying herself with her right arm and left leg, she coiled back and sprung forward and to the side as the man smashed the hammer down into the ground once more. As she landed on her shoulder, she grabbed her sword with her strong arm and thrust with all of her speed and might at his good ankle with hopes of cutting him down like a tree. If it worked, she would roll herself into a position where she could use the man's size against him and have his weight drive him through her sword.

Her blow was true, piercing through his ankle with ease. However, he still did not tumble. He swayed slightly, looking like he might go down at any moment before, suddenly, he slammed the warhammer down to prop himself up, keeping it standing only by leaning against it, gripping it tightly. Slowly, he looked down to his own legs, before to her with a rueful sort of smirk.

"Seems like the tables have turned, haven't they?"

Vesta twisted her body so that could sit, her sword drawn back and ready to strike out like a cobra. She glared at the man with a viscous intensity as he spoke, but she did not attack.

"They haven't," she said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "If you surrender now, there is a woman in the Prince's entourage who can mend those injuries before it's too late. There's no shame in knowing when you're bested. Of course, the crowd would never accept that. I doubt anybody would pay for you to fight again, but an able-bodied retirement is better than a crippled one," she said, driving her blade into the ground and forcing her self up—silently hating her body for shaking under the strain of lifting her weight with one good leg. "Or I can kill you if you are unable to live with a bruised ego. Either way, you'd have lost to a crippled drunkard."

"No, I just lost to a cripple. You definitely aren't drunk today." Oubera gave a laugh then, along with a smirk. "My ego won't bruise so easily from something like this. You fought well today, and I lost, for one reason or another. Well done." With that, he finally sunk to his knees, unable to support himself even with his weapon.

The Arena of Gurata

Though the fights going on around him were all very loud, something about the beam that erupted into existence from the fight between the Paladin's student and his opponent was much louder than the rest of it, especially to the Prince. Unable to help himself, even as he lowered his hand from the wound on his chin Cyril looked to the side, just in time to see the young man to get his throat slit by the woman. Cyril's eyes widened even as Mizra turned and Christopher fell from the wall, collapsing against the ground heavily.

"CHRISTOPHER-!" The Prince took a single step, clearly set on running towards the green-haired woman and his fallen ally, but suddenly Badain dashed into view in front of him, cutting him off. The speed, though not quite inhumanly fast like that which the Prince had seen the night before, was still enough to make the Prince's eyes widened in shock slightly, skidding to a stop as he was forced to bring his blade up instead.

"Eyes on me, Prince Serio. I'd hate for to win just because you get distracted." The stab towards the Prince's face was blocked just in time by the royal, and though he attempted to deflect the blow fully Badain had pulled his weapon away, preventing any sort of true disarming or creation of an opening. A sudden glare spread across the Prince's face as he took his stance with his blade, holding it with both hands with the hilt down and the blade upwards at an angle.

"Get out of the way, Badain."

"If I did that, I'd just have to stab you in the back. Let's settle this fight as properly as we can."

With a noise akin to a snarl, the Prince moved forwards to once more engage with Badain. The light, fast blade was flicked back and forth, blocking the attacks from the Prince deftly when Badain didn't deflect and counter attack. More and more slashes began to appear on the Prince, from all over his arms and torso to even his cheeks. Despite all the wounds, though, the Prince just kept attacking, only giving Badain the option to block and give these light counters.

Meanwhile, Mizra's eyes scanned the Arena, darting around quickly. Across her face the tentacles made of her own flesh waved and squirmed erratically, cheek bones and even the roots of her teeth on that side of her face completely exposed. As the seconds passed, it seemed that slowly but surely more of her face was shredding itself, extending from that left cheek; even her left eye didn't last for very long, popping and shredding to join the twisting mass.

Her remaining eye eventually fell upon the flurry of movement that was the fight between Cyril and Badain. A wicked sort of grin spread across her face, before she swung her staff around to direct it in their direction. She held it forwards with her left arm, and suddenly the tendrils explosively tore into existence all the way down her neck to her finger tips. In a way, she was gripping more with the tendrils than her hands or fingers. Once more, a high pitched whine filled the air as light began to spread over the staff.

Meanwhile, Badain suddenly blocked with his blade and knocked Cyril's hand to the side, forcing his blade out of the way. Even as he drew his hand back for a full thrust, he tilted his head to the side as an irritated look came over his face. "Divinesdammit, Mizra..." Rather than thrusting forwards he leapt upwards, high into the air. Briefly, the Prince's eyes followed him up, but he then saw the bright staff of the woman who had been hidden behind Badain's form. The Prince's eyes widened as he brought both arms up to block his face, yelling.

However, when the blast came it didn't hit the Prince. The moment just before it exploded forwards a gauntleted hand fastened down on the staff from the side, grip tight as electricity crackled from the gauntlets into the staff. Her eye widened as she was yanked by the staff, suddenly forced to turn around even as the beam began to fire. Rather than through the middle of the Arena, with Cyril and so many others in danger, the blast instead crashed into the wall of the Arena once again. With how close she was to the wall, Mizra was blown back by the force of the collision, tumbling once she hit the ground before she twisted around to slide to a stop on one knee, head snapping up.

"WHAT?!" she shrieked, seeing just who it was that had thrown her off. Standing in front of her, blown away from the wall at a different angle than her, was Christopher. Blood was soaked into the front of his shirt and jacket, a fair amount of it spread all over the skin of his throat. Even as he stood there, the deep wound that had been slashed into his throat was rapidly healing, skin stitching itself back together closed in layers. His teeth were bared, grit together tightly as he brought both of his gauntlets together, electricity sparking outwards to his left and right.

"Divines you look disgusting. By the time I'm done with you, there's going to be nothing left to squirm!" Throwing his arms out and away from each other, he started rushing forwards even as Mizra stood back up, continuing to shriek.

"JUST CHOKE AND DIE ALREADY!" As she screamed out she swung with her staff from one side to another. With the motion light passed from the ball at the end all the way down to the crescent, where it suddenly shot outwards and split into multiple thin, curving, ribbon-like beams that spiraled towards Christopher from different angles on his approach. He dodged back and forth, leaping back and forth while keeping his forward momentum or even stepping to the side with deft steps that turned him in a quick circle before he continued dashing forwards. Others he ducked under or leapt over, before he was suddenly closing the distance with Mizra entirely. Her way to attack was to spin her staff around, trying to bring the ball down on his head to crush it as he rushed forwards, but she missed as he suddenly dropped into a slide. His hands came up as he went down, catching the ball as it came down and keeping a hold on it as he went past, forcing her to turn.

As she tried to wrench him away from the weapon he kept a hold, using it to yank himself to his feet once again. Whirling, he threw a punch that she barely managed to block in time, though electricity crackled up the length of staff to her arms, which caused the tendrils to seize erratically. His other hand snapped forwards, grabbing the staff before she could attempt to wrench away once again. With the staff gripped, he drew back with his other hand, before he brought it smashing against the staff at the middle, snapping it in half.

Mizra snarled in range, electing to let go of the half he was still gripping which was the one with the ball. She swung with the bladed crescent, an attack he blocked with his half before he tossed it to the side to free both of his hands. As he had before, he once again caught the weapon on the inside of the crescent. Unlike before, though, he easily wrenched it away from her hands, throwing it to the side as well. With the movement she used the time to get her hands around his throat, the tendrils wrapping around the back of his neck briefly.

Her grip didn't last for long though as he brought both of his fists into her stomach in a heavy attack. The double hit was enough to take her off her feet as electricity bounded through her body, her mouth agape in pain and surprise. Backwards she fell, hitting the ground hard. Christopher was right on top of her, right fist drawn back...

The next several moments consisted of hit after hit. Time after time his fist crashed into her face and torso, in brutal hits as the cracking of bone sounded out and the crackle of electricity with it. Right, left, right, left, he hit her again and again, crushing tendrils beneath his fists along with her normal flesh and bone. He didn't stop even as she went still, grabbing her by the hair with one hand to continue delivering hits.

"THAT'S FOR GETTING MY BLOOD EVERYWHERE YOU SICK PIECE OF DRAGON SHIT."

Even before the beat down had begun though, Badain had come back down to land on the ground. Briefly he seemed confused, turning his face in the direction of Mizra and the returned Christopher before turning it back towards Cyril, nodding his head slightly. "I'm honestly surprised she missed. Not sure what's happening over there... But I'm certainly glad she didn't ruin our fight. Sounds like things are coming to a close... Shall we finish this?"

"I'm fine with getting this over with." Cyril's eyes narrowed before he rushed forwards, directly towards his opponent. He had in mind a way to finish the fight, though it wasn't going to be pleasant... Especially as Badain suddenly stepped forwards, stabbing up high. Cyril didn't dodge, only turning his shoulder slightly as he held his hand out, teeth pre-emptively grinding together as the blow came.

The thin blade pierced through his left hand, flesh briefly stretching before it punctured out through the back of his hand. Unable to hold it back, Cyril yelled out in pain, even as his grip tightened on his blade and the hand that was pierced closed down.

Badain, meanwhile, said quietly, "Ooooh, I see..."

The blade was stuck in the Prince's hand, and as Cyril turned once more the blade was forced from Badain's hand as it twisted painfully. Yelling again Cyril swung with his own blade, slashing upwards. Even as Badain attempted to leap away from the blow it raked across his chest, making his landing painful and difficult. He staggered back, before falling down to one knee, both of his arms being held across his torso before he held one hand out to the side.

"I concede."

With that, the fights came to an end. One final explosive cheer went up from the Guratans, even as up above the Chiefs quickly turned to their private way down to the Arena. While Cyril slowly stepped back from Badain, Christopher finally stopped beating Mizra to a mush before he stood, staggering a few steps away. Meanwhile, in their row the Sentinels jumped to their feet, Diane moving the most quickly as she held her staff in her hands, exclaiming, "Gortul!"

"Of course, Ms. Laues!" With that, he picked Diane up easily, before jumping over the wall and down into the Arena. He landed heavily, but quickly set down Diane onto her feet so that she could rush forward. Her first priority, for obvious reasons, was Cyril, and as he saw her approach he waited a brief moment for her to get close before reaching up to rip Badain's blade out. As she got closer, she immediately got to work, her staff gently glowing as she began closing the wound.

"You idiot, you could have been killed with such a reckless move!"

"Only way I could get his blade long enough to land the hit. How's everyone else doing?"

"Surprisingly enough, our side is fine." As Diane spoke, she nodded off to the side, using her head to gesture towards those she spoke about. "All things considered the Paladin's student should be dead right now, but I guess I'm not really surprised that the Paladin would keep someone like him around. Otherwise, there's nothing too serious. The other side, though... Shadar alone has given me enough work to do, never mind all the rest. Pretty sure Nocte decided to get rid of one job, as well..."

"I see..." Cyril briefly closed his eyes, before nodding slightly as he opened them again. "He did what he had to. Work on Shadar's opponent first, and then everyone else in order of severity."

"Hmph, of course." Diane pulled away then, turning and briskly walking towards the crumpled form of Thuraya now that the Prince's wound was closed. Briefly he held his hand up, flexing it a couple of times before he turned as he saw one set of doors to the arena begin to open once again. Along with several other Guratans that would already get started on cleaning, repairing, and addressing minor wounds while Diane focused on the major ones, were the three Chiefs. All three made their way towards Cyril, though Seryosa moved past him while barely giving him a second glance.

"Looks like you got what you wanted." She continued on her way in the same direction that Diane had gone, and Cyril briefly watched her while blinking a few times before looking back to Yihira and Kisarin, a concerned look on her face. While Kisarin just gave him a grin while shrugging, Yihira just smirked slightly and gave a single shake of her head.

"I wouldn't be too concerned about it. She'll keep her word, Prince, don't you worry. Congratulations. We'll get things moving today, and when you return to Barcea tomorrow you'll have a full report for the Queen."

While the Prince gave his thanks to the two Chiefs, Diane was hard at work with a very, very difficult case. Thuraya was, in a word, broken; with the breaks in her tail, burns all over her, and Divines knew how many fractures or broken bones as well, even ignoring the smaller bruises, scrapes, and gashes the healer had a fair bit of work to do. She had started by turning the nonhuman so that her head was toward the ground, simply so the healer could focus on the tail to begin with, and from the beginning Diane's staff glowed much brighter than it had when she had healed the Prince's (in comparison) much smaller wound.

Even as she healed, Seryosa approached. While the look on her face wasn't irritated, it wasn't exactly pleased as well. The Chief came to a stop next to Diane and Thuraya, looking down to the wounded warrior before looking back up. "You cried." She continued on without waiting for an answer, saying, "You'll be heading south with the Prince and his 'Sentinels.' I want to have eyes down there so we know how bad the situation is well in advance."

As others continued to gather in the Arena floor, the Paladin stepped from the doorway. Glasses glinting, he easily made his way through the crowd to Christopher, and then passed him without saying a word, much to the indignation of the young man who made it well known very quickly: "So I guess there's no congratulations to be had, huh? Fucking typical." The Paladin, however, had something more important to investigate as he came to a heavily bloodstained spot in the floor. There he crouched, running two of his gloved fingers over the stain briefly, examining the dark marks on the tips of his fingers afterwards. His head turned as he looked to the Prince and the two Chiefs he was still conversing with, having no qualm with interrupting.

He was crouching in the spot that the pulverized Mizra had been lying upon, but now she was gone without a trace save for the bloodstain she left behind.

"Who was the woman my pupil fought, ye two?"

The conversation between the leaders came to a stop as they looked over. While Cyril paled slightly when he realized that the supposedly dead woman had disappeared, Yihira swore loudly as she took a step forwards. Kisarin was the one to reply though, brow furrowing as he crossed his arms. "Mizra. She had been around here for a while, and was usually hired as a last resort simply because she was so... messy, Paladin. We have no real idea where she came from before she arrived here, and she didn't condone people asking."

"I see." With that, the Paladin rose, slowly wiping the tips of his fingers on his robes. "It seems as if my pupil has exposed a sickness for you, and expelled it as well. A happy coincidence."

Christopher did not buy this, throwing his hands angrily out to the side. "You knew about this didn't you, you son of a bitch?!"

The Paladin replied calmly as he pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger. "Perhaps."

---

The Renata Household - Dining Hall

Richard stepped through the open doors and to the right, turning to bow towards them once again as they entered. The doors led to a massive dining hall, one with a long and wide table that stretched from one end to the other. Ornate chairs with soft red cushions lined the table, perfectly and evenly placed side by side. Candelabra's were also spaced evenly from one another on the table itself, though the soft light provided by them was drowned out by the true source of light at the other end of the hall.

The wall at the opposite end was made entirely of massive windows with minimal framing. Beyond came the next impossibility of the Renata manor, and the most shocking and disorienting one: what could only be described as a red space was beyond the windows. There was no ground beyond the windows, never mind a floor or a ceiling; instead, lights like red stars seemed to float freely in a faint red haze, slowly spinning in a large and lazy vortex. Once again, seeing the mansion from the outside drove home the impossible nature of this sight; it was much too massive to exist within the mansion even if borders could have been seen, and even the hall itself seemed much too high for the mansion.

The table was for the most part empty, save for one space at the far end. There, a larger chair was set at the end, almost like a throne. It was made of a balanced mixture of deep red wood, silver, and red cushioning. Only in there did a single figure sit. She was small, somewhere between the size of a young teenager or an older child. Her skin was pale and perfectly smooth, having a sort of glow about it. Dressed in reds, blacks, whites, and the faintest of pinks here and there, her dress was elegant. Her hair was a bluish sort of silver, not quite long enough to reach her shoulders. Her eyes glowed a very deep but very bright red, seeming to be even brighter than the space beyond the windows behind her.

This figure slowly brought both of her hands up, though she didn't stand. When she spoke her voice was soft yet loud enough to be heard at the same time, and seemed like that of a young woman rather than how her physical form appeared.

"Welcome, Ms. Tanaka and Ms. Calypso. Please, come, have a seat with me."

As the doors opened and as Richard stepped aside, the Divinator allowed herself to be taken aback by the beautiful furniture. She hadn’t even noticed the mass of red that shone through the windows as she found the back wall of windows itself rather fascinating.

Though it took a moment, her teal eyes came to focus on the childlike woman that sat in front of them. Something within her told her that it was probably best that she listen to what she said. Quietly, she led herself and Calypso closer to the Lady of Demons. Even if the young woman had told them to sit, the Diviner simply gulped and gave a small curtsy. She found it rather difficult to find her voice, but eventually, something that sounded closer to a squeak than a sentence managed to leave Etsuko's lips.

"U-Um, thank you for inviting us, Lady Renata. E-Er, i-it's quite the honor."

Calypso had followed along with Etsuko almost dutifully, and seeing that the Divinator wasn't sitting she remained standing as well. The head butler had followed in the process, though he ended up going past the two young women. The Lady of the Demons, however, continued to watch the two of them without blinking. Getting closer allowed them to see more details about the woman, such as the frills in her dress, the tea set in front of her, and the slits of her pupils. The tea set was beautiful, decorated with paintings of red roses and thorns, and there were plenty of small bowls and saucers. Each one was filled with a different substance; one of milk, one with sugar, and one with a thick red substance that gave off a faint metallic smell.

Even as she watched, Karin Renata's hand went forward to pick up a spoon and dip it into the red substance. Her nails were long, pointed, and sharp, and with perfect grace she spooned some of the liquid into her tea, beginning to slowly stir as she spoke. She had a consistent air of grace, but there was a strange sort of lethargy to her movements that had just a hint of deliberation. "You are clearly very nervous, and that won't do at all. Please, relax, sit down, and help yourself to tea and treats. If we are to talk, you need to be in the mood to after all. I have no reason to harm you at the moment, so you do not need to worry about that, Ms. Tanaka. Richard."

"Of course, milady." Richard stepped forwards from where he had taken his place near the wall made of windows. In his hands he held two saucers with a cup on top of them each. Where he had gotten them from wasn't apparent, and it was as if they had just appeared, but he calmly set them down in front of the two seats closest to Karin, and on her left side. He then quickly and calmly poured tea into both cups without spilling a drop, before putting the pot back down and taking a step back once again.

No reason to harm her at the moment? If that was supposed to put her ease, it did, but not by much. Seeing as her curiosity wouldn’t be satiated unless she relaxed and decided that she was in the mood to, Etsuko cleared her throat and began to reach for the tea set in front of Lady Renata. She was sure hoping she wasn’t stepping over any boundaries.

“I-If you’ll excuse me, then.”

She stared at her hands, trying to get them to stop shaking as she reached for a teacup for herself. She could hardly keep her hands from shaking as she took another one and handed it to Calypso. She was biting her lip the entire time, willing herself to stop shaking. Etsuko wasn’t sure why she was so nervous and it was starting to bother her. Was it because of the forest or the fact that the Lady of Demons had summoned her? Whatever it was, she kept telling herself to get over it.

Somehow, that seemed to do the trick and she managed to pour some milk into the two teacups and half a spoonful of sugar. Once she finally sat down, she stirred her tea before taking a delicate sip of it. Etsuko tried not to make a huge deal out of the fact that it probably wasn’t wine that Lady Renata poured into her tea and that she smelled.

“This tea has a very fine aroma, Lady Renata. Er, the tea set is quite beautiful too.”

While it wasn’t nearly as big a deal as her tarot cards, occasionally, Etsuko would use tea to tell fortunes. However, the tea they had before them wasn’t suitable for such a job, as she’d need the remaining tea leaves. Even so, Etsuko knew good tea when she smelled—and tasted it.

“I…apologize for my nervousness. A-A lot has happened over the last couple days.”

Throughout all of this, Calypso remained very still and quiet, having taken her seat when Etsuko did. Though she smiled, she certainly didn't want to get in the way and draw attention to herself, so the most she moved was allowing her gaze to wander. It went from the Lady of the Demons before it stuck on Richard for a while, but then eventually drifted to the swirling mass of stars, where they would remain for a fair while as she became somewhat mesmerized by the sight.

The Lady of the Demons continued to wait, simply watching Etsuko as she went through the motions of preparing tea for herself and her friend. She was patient, after all she had all the time she could ever want to wait if one thought to it, while the time of the other three was limited in a rather decisive way. She only said one thing while Etsuko prepared:

"You picked a fine tea, Richard."

"Thank you, milady. Imported from the West, from Renduit." A bow, and that was all the old servant had to say on the matter. She didn't look at him as he said it, and he didn't look at her, her expression not shifting from a mixture of curiosity and amusement towards Etsuko while his remained relaxed and not-quite-smiling... And yet despite the formality to the point of coldness, one couldn't help but think there was some sort of understanding between the two, something developed from long years of service.

Only when Etsuko was more relaxed did the Lady Renata speak again, and only then did she direct her speech to her. "Indeed, Ms. Etsuko. You've witnessed a slaughtered village and met multiple members of a royal family." No explanation was given to how such personal information was known by the Lady, and she continued along as if it weren't anything of surprise at all, simple bringing up one hand and extending her fingers slightly in the motion. "Any young woman would be somewhat overwhelmed from that sudden flood, though it seems your friend Calypso is doing just fine... But that is neither here nor there."

Calypso blinked slightly at the mention of her name, but they didn't pull from the mass of stars behind the window, and seeing as the Lady Renata didn't even look at Calypso while mentioning her (eyes only on Etsuko, never seeming to blink), she didn't expect her to. She just continued on with her words, each one delivered quietly but with a distinct sense of authority and knowledge:

"No, what matters is your response now, and your commitment to your answer. Tell me, how do you feel about the inevitable war approaching?"

Calypso and Richard seemed to fade out of her vision as she took in every single word that the Lady of the Demons was saying. Etsuko gulped slightly as Lady Renata recounted all of the events that she had gone through in the last few days. Her gaze fixed upon the tea inside her teacup, which rested softly in the saucer on her lap. Her nervousness was coming back and she was beginning to wonder just how much the lady knew.

She took a moment to recollect herself before taking a sip of the tea. It was quickly becoming lukewarm, however she needed something to do. Slowly she inhaled then exhaled as she thought of her response to Lady Renata.

"I...don't like that we have to go to war once more. However, I understand that peace comes in waves, and I suppose this wave of peace has come to its end. I hope Calypso and I can be of use to the Prince and his warriors, though perhaps Calypso would contribute more than I..."

"I suppose that's an interesting way to look at it. Certainly a very... human way of doing so, at least. In the long term, though, it doesn't matter, as is the case with most human styles."

She brought one hand up then, lazily flicking a finger upwards, and up flowed the tea from her cup in a sphere of liquid, with the red concentrated towards the bottom. Her eyes remained concentrated on the two women still, even as the sphere slowly spun and circled around her finger. "Despite good intentions, despite hard work, the world is sick, Ms. Tanaka. Perhaps it always has been, and has just gotten worse. That is neither here nor there."

Suddenly, she flicked her finger towards herself, and the orb traveled to her mouth so that she could drink from it, the shape distorting and shrinking before fully disappearing-

"One must look beyond the immediate in order to create any real change."

Etsuko watched as Lady Renata made her tea levitate, trying not to let her gaze linger too long at the red that was concentrated near the bottom. It was a bit difficult, since the color managed to fit so well with the aesthetic of the room. She took a sip of her own tea--no red substances to be found anywhere in it--looking down at it for a moment before looking back up at Lady Renata.

"So then...how does real change occur?"

The Lady of Demons smiled slightly, her hand going down once more as she gently pushed the saucers in front of her to the side, from the one that the now empty tea cup stood on to ones with various snacks such as little cakes.

"One must stop thinking about just the here and now and think instead towards the future, something that you have a peculiar advantage at Ms. Tanaka. Though your companion might be better equipped to serve the Prince on the battlefield, you have a talent that could very well be a much greater help."

She blinked a little, glancing over at Calypso, who still seemed lost in the view from the giant window. She blinked again as the full magnitude of what Lady Renata was saying finally began to sink in.

"W-What? I'm not even sure the Prince knows what I can do...Besides, my ability isn't that powerful...not like some other fortune tellers, by any means..."

Slowly, the Lady gave a shake of her head. "When it comes to that, you are completely wrong. I am aware you have no real idea why I've called you here today, Ms. Tanaka. Would you like to know more absolutely why?"

Curiosity would probably kill her in the end, but she didn't know that now. So, Etsuko slowly nodded her head.

"Yes, please."

The Lady of the Demons nodded slightly. As she began to speak her hand went out to the side, curling upwards some.

"Very well then. It does have a great amount to do with your talent, Etsuko, though you may not realize why. Though there are some others who have a talent at foresight and the like, many of them, without realizing it, can easily be disrupted due to forces within the world. They still receive visions, premonitions, or are able to use their tools, but the results they received are altered, skewed."

As she spoke, from all around strips of darkness curled around her arm, into her hand. They began to take shape and solidify before they turned completely into a black book she set down on the table in front of her, keeping her hand on it. "Not you, I believe. For whatever reason, you seem to pierce the veil of influence to some degree. Perhaps you could do so even more, with some practice and work."

Etsuko listened quietly, her peripheral vision eventually noticing the strips of darkness curling around Lady Renata’s arms as she spoke. She was certainly surprised to hear that her ability seemed to stretch as far as overcoming corruption; at least, that’s how she understood it to be.

She tilted her head, not to condescend because really, Etsuko probably wasn’t capable of that, but out of curiosity.

“What is this veil of influence? And are you saying that you could give me that practice and work?”

"There are a few sources that can influence in such a way, and... Possibly." She tapped the book lightly then, eyes only slightly narrowed as she watched Etsuko. "But the latter will come later, Ms. Tanaka. First, I'm going to educate you about the former." Suddenly, the Lady of the Demons opened the book, beginning to flip through the pages slowly. From the angle she was at, Etsuko would be able to see how the language within it certainly wasn't the common tongue, and there were strange images sketched in here and there.

"Very few have the power to distort the perception of others and related abilities, especially not without actively trying. It requires a great amount of power leaking just to disrupt with one's mere presence. If you know your history, the God Kings were one set of individuals who had that amount of power, but they're gone for the most part now. But there are others out there who are actively trying to distort that which you may see."

"I may see?"

"From your visions, your readings, whatever tactic you choose to employ."

She blushed a little out of embarrassment, though it was probably difficult to tell with the way the room was bathed in red light.

"O-Oh right, I apologize."

The Lady of the Demons just gave a slight nod. "Those who interfere really have one reason why they do so, at any time: to remain unknown and unnoticed, working from the shadows. They have done so countless times in history when they have manipulated events for their greater goal." For a moment Lady Renata was silent, before tilting her head slightly. "Tell me, Ms. Etsuko... What are your views on religion, and your beliefs?"

She blinked at the question. No one had ever really asked her and she’s never given that much thought either.

“My views on religion…”

She repeated the phrase quietly as she looked back down at the tea before looking back up at Lady Renata.

“I was raised to always respect the Divines--Ambrosia especially, because we live in Barcea--and I’ve done so my entire life. They were kind enough to give me this ability of foresight and gracious enough to let me enjoy the life I live now. To use my gift to bring peace and happiness and to do acts of kindness whenever I can is the least I can do for all that they have done for me.”

Lady Renata slowly straightened her head once again after Etsuko had finished speaking. "Then I suppose it won't come with any shock when I tell you that the Divines exist. Well, perhaps there will be a shock, but relief afterwards? You humans are fickle sometimes..."

The amount of shock that went through Etsuko was enough to widen her eyes and make her jaw drop. She quickly recomposed herself, though her eyes remained wide with amazement and, well, shock.

“T-They are?! Oh, oh dear. I-I really hope I haven’t upset them or anything…It would explain the rumors I've heard about the Lady of the Abyss appearing wherever she pleases, though...”

"You are a mere human, and they have no reason to care. Yet. Yes, the Divines truly do exist. I've met them all already, but that isn't the issue at hand. That would be the fact that the Divines have, in fact, mated with mortals... And while this in itself isn't an issue, their offspring are some of those more powerful types. Divineborn, in a word." Once more she tilted her head slightly. "Do you know about the Divineborn already?"

Her eyes began to recede back to their normal size as Lady Renata began speaking again.

“Divineborn? Beings who are part mortal, part Divine, right?”

"Exactly. And, depending on which Divine they come from, they are either Lightborn or Darkborn... As the Divines are naturally split. There are varying numbers, some aren't even aware of it... But then there are those who do. And, for some reasons, many of them have banded together."

By that point, Karin had settled upon a page, but she had yet to reveal it to Etsuko, keeping the book closed against her hand. "They call themselves the Manu Propria, and they are responsible for far more than many will ever realize."

Her gaze went back to the tea in her teacup—which was almost gone—and she took a tentative sip.

“What…what are they responsible for?”

With one simple statement, the Lady of Demons revealed just what kind of scale she was talking about, and what this organization had done: "Remember the God Kings, from when I mentioned them earlier? They made them."

For the second time during this conversation, Etsuko's jaw dropped.

“T-They made the God Kings?!”

"Found them from before they were the God Kings, offered them power, and gave them direction and limitations. They were the source of half the world being taken over and suppressed... Impressive, in a way. But then the Gifted rose, and the God Kings were finally broken; probably because the Manu Propria had already filled whatever purpose they needed them to accomplish."

She was silent for a few moments, her fingers delicately traced the shape of the handle of the teacup.

"I...I see..."

Lady Renata tilted her head back some then, as she watched Etsuko carefully. "They are the ones who are currently the biggest threat to any sort of clarity, Ms. Tanaka. They are the ones who you would be working to circumvent with training, and they are the ones who might come after you if you gave information to those who are not able to properly protect you. Am I being clear?"

She nodded her lip, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment, feeling like a child being scolded.

“Yes, Lady Renata.”

Slowly, Lady Renata's free hand came up, forefinger pointed forward some while upside down while the other fingers were curled in on her palm some. "In front of you, you have a choice. You can give up your business of fortune telling now. Your life will most likely be much more peaceful that way, but you will never be able to help people with your talents again... Or you can take that step, and endure the risk of learning more."

It was certainly a choice Etsuko never thought she would face in her life. She didn’t want to become a liability and have to question who could protect her and who couldn’t. She glanced at Calypso, who seemed content with just listening to the conversation at hand. Etsuko knew that her companion was very capable of protecting her, but what of the off chance that Calypso wasn’t there? The thought of people putting their lives on the line for the sake of the information she may have to carry the burden weighed greatly on her shoulders. But compared to the idea of being unable to help people with the gift that the Divines had blessed her with…

Well, there was really no choice, now was there.

She looked up at Lady Renata, her eyes unsure yet determined. Even her abilities with foresight wouldn’t be able to tell what would happen to her.

“I will take the risk, Lady Renata.”

“I expected as much." Slowly, Karin's eyes then went to Etsuko's companion. "And you...?"

Finally, Calypso blinked, eyes pulling away from the glow behind the windows as she looked to the Lady of Demons. "I'm with Etsuko until she tells me to leave...~" And, with that, her eyes drifted back to the windows while Lady Renata nodded.

"Of course." With that statement, Karin turned the book around to face the two of them, opened to that page she had stopped at earlier. On it was a sketch of two individuals. Despite only being sketches, something about them had the following details, and it was as if they moved ever slightly.

The female wore black robes with white accents. Her gaze seemed to blaze, with bright white eyes that matched her long white hair. At her side was a blade in a black sheath, which she held behind her slightly. Besides the clothes, there were pieces of armor over her, covering most of where her skin would have been seen (because, in places, the outfit was open), the armor looking rather sharp. The right side of her face was covered in a black mask, curved in shape.

The male wore white robes with black accents, and he had dark black hair that went to his shoulders. His gaze, with his dark eyes (so deeply green they were almost black), was level and completely calm, to the point of being almost extreme. At his side was a blade with a white sheath, and the left half of his face was covered in a white mask, which was also curved.

"Two members of the Manu Propria. The robes they wear let them easily be identified by those who know them, and whether they are Darkborn or Lightborn. These two, specifically, were ones that I have fought with before, with the Lady of the Abyss as my ally."

Etsuko leaned forward to get a better look at the sketches on the pages. After a moment of inspecting the images, she looked back up at Lady Renata.

“You’ve fought them before?”

The Lady of the Demons gave a single nod. "Plenty of times, for a time beyond your true comprehension. Perhaps later I will tell you how it began, but for now that doesn't matter as much. Clearly, at least one Divine is their source. One may have found a way to simulate a proper conception of the other type, but we do not know for certain, so perhaps there is more than one Divine behind them. What that means, though, is that for a very long time at least one Divine has been quietly disagreeing with the others..."

“What could they be disagreeing about?”

"How deeply do you know your own religion, Ms. Tanaka?"

She looked away, somewhat sheepishly.

“I suppose not as much as I should.”

Lady Renata gave a slight dismissive wave. "It does not matter. Where the disagreement is based has to do with knowledge that has long died from lore. It is on the matter of True Creation, and of what made the Divines themselves. The Original."

She blinked. It was certainly the first time she was hearing of it.

“They disagreed over where they originally came from?”

"No, but what should be done about it." Karin closed her eyes briefly, before reopening them as she continued. "The Original is the only simple name for that which created the Divines, and then disappeared. It used to be, long ago, that everyone knew about It... But, thanks to a mixture of disasters, wars, and more than a small amount of influence by the Manu Propria, knowledge of It slowly began to fade. However, to those who know of It, there is a prophecy foretelling the return of the Original, and what might happen during this time." Her eyes narrowed just a little. "It seems that this Divine, or these Divines, believe they might be able to replace the Original, and achieve control and power over the others."

“But they haven’t done so, right?"

"They do not have access to the Original because It has not returned yet. According to the prophecy, it will."

"It hasn't returned? Er...where did It go?"

"That is a question many once debated about long ago, and its answer is probably something that cannot be expressed in words."

She nodded slowly.

"Er...then how can it be explained?"

"The prophecy resorted to vague language, but it doesn't really matter to this world. It is a long prophecy, Ms. Tanaka, with many aspects that do not matter with what we're talking about now. What I can tell you, though, is that in summary it states how the Original will return at the end of the world, to Recreate it once more. What exactly that means is anyone's guess, but it seems that whoever leads the Manu Propria would like to replace the Original with themselves before that Recreation."

Etsuko inhaled and exhaled, as if taking in all of this information and letting out the overwhelming feelings that she felt.

"The end of the world..."

It sounded like a very grim prophecy, but she rarely ever heard of one that wasn't gloom and doom.

"Do you...know who leads the Manu Propria?"

"The Divine or Divines? No true idea, though I know of at least one who it isn't. Of the Divineborn within though, I have some knowledge of their stronger members."

"Who? Who do you know of?"

"These two, for example, though the woman is now dead, and has been for almost twenty years. The male has been missing for the same amount of time. They were mates, after all." Lady Renata slowly tapped the book as she continued to speak. "They are two of the Aspects, a group of the ten strongest Divineborn under the leadership of the Crux, who is the Divineborn at the head of them all."

She nodded slowly as more information came her way.

"And...the group, the Aspects, are still alive? Or is their status unknown as well?"

"Save for the one who I know to be dead, I have no doubts that they are all still alive."

"And...will they be among those who go after me for this information?"

“Depending on how you use it. What allies you pick will determine which enemies you make."

A nervous laugh.

“Well, I better choose wisely.”

Lady Renata's eyebrow rose slightly. "With your life on the line? I certainly hope so." With that she closed the book, and when she pulled her hand away from it the book immediately dissolved into strips of shadow that darted to underneath the table. "That, I feel, is enough of an introduction. You will be learning from Resalia for the most part in the coming days, though every once in a while it will be with me. Resalia is one of the few I trust, and also lives here in my home. For the time being, focus upon that."

She blinked and then nodded.

“Oh, I see. Alright, if you think that is for the best. We thank you for your hospitality.”

"Of course. Clothing will be provided for you, and I will have someone sent to pick up your things. You will not be leaving here until I say so. Which will be in a few days, when the time comes."

A nervous laugh and a smile followed from the Diviner.

“Yes Lady Renata, thank you.”

For a moment, there was silence... And then the double doors all the way on the other end of the room both smashed open at once as a golden blur shot through them. The blur was extremely fast, almost certainly impossible for the human eye to follow, going down the length of the room while jumping over tables and sliding over them with ease in a matter of seconds, the furniture rattling as it shot past.

"KAAAAAARIIIIIIIIIN!"

Going over the table before suddenly dropping to side and sliding under as it reached where they were at, it disappeared underneath it. For a moment there was silence once again, save for Karin sighing slightly and glancing to Richard, who only shrugged. Suddenly, a head of golden hair popped up from under the table next to Karin, looking up to her. Like Karin, the individual had almost childlike features and was very, very pale. She had big red eyes on a happily smiling face underneath those gold locks. "Found you!"

"Helle, didn't I tell you that I was expecting company today...?"

"Oh... you did... Wait, company?! I like company!" A sharp, excited glint passed through her eyes as she suddenly shot up into standing next to her sister. She was dressed in a simple dress that was completely red, very bright and vibrant. In her hand she had two stuffed animals, one an extremely fluffy snow white dog and the other a golden teddy bear. She dropped the dog into Karin's lap. With light ease, she jumped up onto the table without shaking it in the slightest, taking quick but careful steps to avoid all the plates and cups and food to peer down at the two young women, bending over and waving.

"Hello!"

"Ms. Tanaka, Ms. Calypso, this is Helle Renata, my younger sister."

"Nice to meet you! Which one is which?"

Almost as soon as someone new had entered, any sort of tension that Etsuko was feeling faded right away. She watched as the golden blur eventually became a small child and a relaxed smile appeared on her face. It was somewhat hard to believe that the two were related, however she could understand that Lady Renata had to be the more mature one. After all, Etsuko herself was an older sibling.

“A-Ah, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ms. Tanaka, but you can call me Etsuko if you like. And this is Ms. Calypso.”

She glanced over at Calypso, finally, and nudged her with her elbow. Etsuko hadn’t really noticed how mesmerized she was with the stars in the background, though as she glanced at them now, she could see that they were certainly something were staring at.

Eventually, she brought her attention back to the Renata sisters. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say to break the ice, so she pointed at Helle’s teddy bear with a smile.

“Your teddy bear is almost as cute as you are.”

Upon getting nudged by Etsuko, Calypso jumped a little in her seat before looking over to smile at the young woman, the spell finally broken. She wasn't quite up to speed with the conversation, so she just looked at the young-looking newcomer, still smiling as she waved, a move that Helle returned albeit in a much faster, more excited manner.

"Oooh, I like your names! They're very nice ones! It's been awhile since we've had visitors." Her big red eyes blinked as Etsuko complimented her toy, her nodding. "Mhm! Her name's Buttercup, and she's sweet." Even as she spoke, her foot began to shift slightly back, as if she were preparing to leap at Etsuko as her smile grew some...

"Helle, off the table, please."

"Fiiiiine." Spinning around silently on her bare feet, the childlike demon lightly made her way back to her sister, to drop off next to her into the chair that Richard had pushed over in one brisk movement. As Helle got settled, Karin reached down to the snowy white stuffed dog, holding it up and out to her sister without even looking. This confused Helle, who blinked slowly.

"Hm...?"

"Why did you bring this here? I don't care for it."

"Oh, come on, Karin! You haven't paid attention to her for a while! I thought we could play with her and Buttercup some."

"I'm busy, can't you see?"

"Then later! I'm patient!"

Karin just sighed once again, dropping the stuffed animal back into her own lap and shaking her head slightly before looking to Etsuko and Calypso once again, though mostly Etsuko. "Please, pardon the interruption."

Etsuko merely giggled at the interaction between the sisters. It reminded her of some of the children in her own village and it amused her greatly. Now that she thought about it, Lady Renata seemed more like Helle’s mother than older sister. She couldn’t help but tilt her head as her attention was still held by Helle. Maybe she’d ask her later how she should be addressed…

She turned her attention back to Lady Renata, a smile settling onto her features.

“It’s alright. We're around children often enough that we’ve gotten used to them. In fact, I think they rather like us.”

"This is very true..." Karin simply shrugged slightly while Helle bounced Buttercup in her lap gently, the younger demon humming lightly to herself as she kicked her legs under the table. In the meantime, Karin began to reach for the tea set, before sighing and sitting back slightly. "Richard."

In that moment, the butler stepped forwards, carefully slipping in the spot between the two demons to reach forwards and pour the tea for his mistress. She, meanwhile, brought her hand up so she could rest her cheek on the back of her lightly closed fist, eyes narrowing some curiously as she continued to look to her guests. "Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. Richard will show you to the rooms the two of you will be staying with, and will guide you to wherever you need to be within the mansion."

Etsuko nodded her head at Lady Renata’s instructions. It was rather difficult to tell what time it was, though she figured that when the Lady got bored of them or saw that she had received all the information she needed, then she’d dismiss them.

“Ah, yes. We’re at your leisure.”

A throaty groan escaped Alice's body as consciousness came back to her. The last thing she'd seen was a foot coming towards her face before blacking out. Seems that her opponent hit her pretty hard after all of her jokes. Even still, her eyes fluttered open as she sat up on the Arena floor. Her left hand coming up to gently touch her face; coming away red with the blood from her split lip. Another groan.

"Miss Alice!" A voice called for her. She tilted her head towards the direction of the voice with an arced brow and a smirk.

Another female came onto the Arena floor with her hands cupped oddly over her chest as she practically ran towards Alice. She was a shorter girl with a bit of a younger face. The roots of her hair were black before morphing into gray and silver locks, pulled up into a tight bun. Her eyes were a bit odd from her other wise human appearance; pure silver in color and pupils large and slitted. Her skin was pale with a sizable scar under her right eye and freckles dusting across her cheeks and nose.

She practically skidded to a stop before taking a knee and becoming face level with the bustier woman.

"Relax Stark. I'm fine." Alice brushed off the younger girls words as she pushed her body off of the ground, wiping blood from her lip off of her chin with the back of her hand.

Alice glanced around the Arena with mildy curiosity before her attention was drawn back to the silent girl waiting for orders to be given to her. Alice licked her lips before looking at Stark's hands; they opened to show a spiked snake curled in on itself. The green thing seemed to perk up as light came back before looking at Alice as expectantly as a snake could.

"Hello Hissy. You behaved I assume?." Alice calmly said with a smile as the snake was scooped from Stark's hands and placed gently on her shoulder where the bush viper would wrap itself gently around the back of Alice's neck and rest on her shoulders. Stark had begun to move on her own as she gently wiped away the blood from Alice's face and neck with clear concentration.

"Miss Alice what are we going to do now?" Quietly asked Stark as she glanced around as well with a frown on her features.

"Well we should probably regroup and figure it out from there. I could go for a stiff drink right about now."

"Whelp, I've got to stay here for a while longer till the healer's free, so I say that we have a round of drinks or something to celebrate the win. I won't be paying a cent, of course, because I have no part in Drosil wager, so I suggest you get it out of him at a later date." Shadar muttered as he approached, glancing at the others before taking out his sketch pad and sitting on the ground, beginning to work on a sketch of the scorpion girl. He'd directed the last comment to Dalious, as he figured the pirate would try to get his due out of him. That, however, would be Drosil's problem, not his, and quite a problem it would be considering the mage didn't have very much in the ways of funds on him. Being a freelance researcher meant having to make due with very, very little funding for what you did, and Drosil tended to be to busy with his studies to do any real work. Most of their food had to be caught, though given their skills, that usually wasn't a problem he had to worry about. Protection from the elements, however, was not as easily solved, something that the northern climate they were in served to remind him very, very well of.

As Shadar worked out the basic shapes and lines of the scorpion woman's frame, he returned to his beginning sketch of Joy, or Vesta as she was now to be called, and began to fill in the details. After the annoyance _{and slight guilt} of the previous bout, he felt a need to lose himself ever so slightly in his favored hobby. He'd continue to alternate between the two, absent-mindedly turning his gaze over to Vesta from time to time to get a reminder of any subtle details he may have forgotten. Her picture was a simple portrait of the woman giving her trademark frown at an invisible fool, looking rather unamused at whatever she was seeing. The picture of Thuraya was still more of a sketch than anything else, showed her in mid-charge towards the audience, her blade thrusting out in front of her in a reckless, yet powerful charge. As he worked, an onlooker might be able to note the odd nature of his writing implement, which seemed to be a quill with all the feather removed and inscribed with tiny runes. Whenever as mistake was made, Shadar would click his tongue, press a rune close to the tip, and point his quill at the offensive line. The ink would soon disperse into dust, falling write off the page and riding the air current down towards the dirt. A trinket made by Drosil with some help from an enchanter he befriended in Jasi, it was a rather nifty device, and it did wonders to help him with his works.

Dalious laid flat on his back next to Shadar as he drew, blinking at the arena ceiling as his eye sight slowly came back to him. Everything went from dark, to blurry, to normal rather quickly. He massaged his shoulder wound as he relaxed and also waited for the healer to come around.

"Consider the debt void," Dalious said. In truth, the pirate felt like hell currently. It was a mix of getting stabbed and blinded all while being incredibly hung over from the night before. Perhaps he would feel better once the healer tended his wound, but he wasn't sure if that would help his throbbing headache.

When he could see again, he glanced over and peeked at Shadar's artwork, giving a nod of approval. "Spot on," he said, giving Vesta a glance. He laid back down and continued to look up, his thoughts more interested now in what kind of magics Shadar was working with. "How does one change form entirely? I've never witnessed such a thing." He spoke more to himself out of curiosity, not really seeking an answer. He sat up and cracked his neck, then his knuckles. "Say, these runes. Would you be able to forge them into weapons or armor? Daggers, for example?"

Dalious wanted to upgrade his equipment, as his last bout was nearly a loss due to lack of armor and poor choice in blades. He didn't want that to happen again, he also assumed that since they all won the bout, maybe the Guratans would let them take a few supplies. He was hopeful, anyway. He could tell Shadar was paying little attention to him as he drew though, however that didn't stop the man from speaking. "Maybe a flame dagger and an ice one? Or, no, what about electricity? Ooh, perhaps a vibrant mind control rune crested on a dragon forged golden armor? A longsword that can move the very earth below?" The pirate knew absolutely nothing about runes or magic, and so he continued in his fantasy. "How about a silver staff that turns foes into ash and dust? Come on!"

The ambassador had joined the spectating members of the Prince’s party late, making some lame excuse to the curious Sentinels as to why he had been delayed. Truth be told, the man had no stomach for watching people disembowel one another just to feed the ravenous maw of the uncivilized masses. If not for the curious stares of the Arena’s guards, Ennis would have spent the day wandering the halls studying the architecture of the nomad’s one real building. However, as an oversized brute with a nasty looking weapon began making his way towards the ambassador all hopes of spending a rather peaceful afternoon alone were dashed. So he made his way to his group, knowing that they wouldn’t question him if he was surrounded by the Prince’s men.

The man watched the fight mostly with his ears as his eyes drifted between his shoes and the ceiling, rarely glimpsing the melee below. However, Ennis still got a fairly decent idea of what was happening between the uproarious reaction of the crowd and Diane’s filtered explanation to Ayano. His mind’s eye painted in the rest. If Diane said someone was struck and there was a mild reaction from the audience then Ennis knew it was likely just a fleshwound. If Diane said someone else was hit and the crowd howled like rabid beasts then Ennis knew that somebody had probably just lost a limb or two. Once or twice he tried making a side conversation with some of the Sentinels, but they were too focused on watching their leader fight to really offer anything that’d serve as a distraction from the violent noise. Ennis knew well enough that it was probably best to the Paladin alone, and besides—

—something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.

A loud whine began to fill the Arena. He doubled over, hand clutching his gut. The ambassador felt an ache in his stomach he had not felt since his days in H’kela; his vision blurring white with pain as his head spun . He heard himself groan in pain, but the sound was muffled and distant like he was trapped under ice. Ennis tried standing to his feet, his knees buckling as he made his way towards the exit. He didn’t know what was happening exactly, but he knew that he shouldn’t not be there—despite the nagging curiosity in the back of his brain. His stomach tightened again. It felt like he had swallowed glass.

“This is too barbaric for me,” he muttered under his breath as cover as he half-bolted to the exit.

He barely made it through the threshold before he collapsed to his knees as the whine of Mizra’s attack ended in an explosion. Coughing violently, Ennis felt the ground tremor around him the stone shifted and fell. He kept hacking up his lungs as he slid himself further and further away from the Arena, the shifting earth of his uncontrolled spells being absorbed into his essence as he pushed on. The ambassador gave up right before the entrance back into the hall, refusing to create a scene by falling out through the doors on all fours. Instead, he tried to stand himself up by pushing against the wall—only to fall back down to his knees, his face wet with tears from the pain.

And then, with another thunder of applause and hoots, the pain was gone.



Somehow, they had won. Good. She would have been furious if she had pushed herself so hard just for the others to fail to pull through, but instead she allowed herself to smile. Later she would hear details about what had happened between Christopher and Mizra, and later she would once again be weighed down by distrust and doubt. Now, however, now she relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. She let herself slump to the ground near the man who had crippled her years ago. She wouldn’t be walking anymore today, and she had too much pride to hop around on one leg. Vesta wiped the blood from her nose once more and leaned back on her hands, letting her head droop back as she propped up her one good knee.

Deep down, she knew that she missed fighting—not necessarily in the Arena, but just in general. It had felt good to use her sword again. She chuckled, her mind drifting back to the days before she had ever been picked to serve on the King’s guard. Usually when she thought about her youth the woman grew bitter, hating how she always ended up pitying herself for no longer being able to fight like she once had. For the moment, though, it was just nice to think about how even after all of the years and all of the injuries she could still make a difference with her blade if the need arose.

“Enjoyed yourself, Vesta?”

Cade. As much as Vesta despised the H’kelan, even his presence was unable to ruin her moment of euphoria. She looked up at him with a softer glare than usual. The ambassador was giving her a friendly smile, appearing just as put together and prim as usual. There were no signs on his body of his earlier troubles.

“It was single-handedly the worst experience in my entire life, and I regretted every single moment of it,” she said, dryly.

A confused look appeared on the ambassador’s face.

“Oh. I thought I saw you…” he trailed off. The look of confusion warped into one of stunned amazement as the man realized that Vesta had actually tried to make a joke. “Mm, of course. Then it must’ve truly been awful.”

She knew that Ennis was trying to play off of her, although the negative implications to what he said were both rather in poor taste and rather extremely true. But she’d forgive the ambassador for his blunder just today, offering him a half-smile as some form of acceptance.

“Would you like help getting up?” he asked.

“I think I’ll lie here a little longer,” she said.

“Should I have Diane come over? I need my bodyguard to be in good health. Not very effective otherwise.”

“I think I’ll wait to go last,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She nodded at the man to hint that it was time for him to leave her alone, “Ennis.”

“Vesta.”



He left the woman on the ground as he made his way towards Cyril, adjusting his collar and nodding acknowledgments as he passed by the others. He felt his stomach flip as he spied the darkened pool of blood on the Arena floor, but the fleeting feeling passed as he looked away. Ennis decided that he would ignore what had happened earlier. For all he knew, perhaps he had just gone too long without feeding magic to his curse. With all of the riding from the past day leaving him exhausted it was quite possible that he had slipped up. Besides, for the most part he felt better now.

And there were more pressing things to worry about. Like celebrating.

“Maybe things are different in Barcea, but in the Kirun we try to look a little bit happier when we’re victorious, Cyril,” said Ennis. “Seeing a leader so glum is usually a hit to the men’s morale. Unless, of course, the men despise the leader—and judging by the way your men were shouting during the fight, I think it’s pretty safe to say that is not the case. So, you know, feel free to smile?”

Ennis gave him a half-smile that was either encouraging or mocking.

“But I’m pretty sure you already know that, and it’s not why I came over to bother you all,” he said, eyeing the Chiefs. “I’m not going to claim to be a native of this land, but isn’t it a typical tradition to throw a banquet in honor of the champions? Food, wine, music, all those nonsense. Now, I know that perhaps that may not have been part of the agreed upon deal—not that we really had much of a say about the terms of things—but I believe it would be an acceptable apology for whatever that,” he waved his hands towards where Mizra’s body should have been, “was all about.”

He turned to Cyril. “Don’t you agree, Your Royal Highness? While I’m sure Diane can make all of us fit for the road again, wouldn’t it be best for your men if we have some relaxation before the long road ahead?” He put his hands up. “But it’s just a suggestion. I really have no say; I’ll agree with whatever decision you make.”

Thuraya winced in pain as she was moved, tensed as she was healed, tail twitching as the light shone over it. Would've been fine, tears had dried to leave room only for the pained wincing. That was, until she heard footsteps drawing closer. Her eyes opened slowly to see feet at her side, they shifted upward, head turning a little more to catch a glimpse of the face she hoped it wouldn't be. Seryosa stood above her and all she could think was 'shit...'

The words that came from the woman's lips first cut deeper than any wound she'd received that day... They were true - Thuraya had cried and she hated that fact above all else. Lips parted but before she could give any sort of excuse, she held back and listened further as orders were given. She let out a soft sigh and ler her eyes close again, nodding slightly. "Yes, Seryosa." She couldn't keep her promise, the least she could do now was go with them and see what they'd be up against. "I-.. I will not fail you again..."

A while passed, and healing completed. She was stiff still, to say the very least, but managed to get to her feet slowly, walked a fair distance to grab her blade and swung it up over her shoulder. It hit a little harder than she'd anticipated against the joint and she winced a bit more though was able to hide it for the most part as she walked back to Diane, giving a small bow in thanks. "Thank you for your help." she said softly, her eyes locking with the healer's for a moment. If she were to look back, she would see the pain still residing within her - a pain that could not be healed through her magicks, a suppressed one, that she shook off as she looked away from the woman to formally meet this.. Prince, she would be traveling with.

He was with Kisarin and Yihira... Also some other guy, but she didn't honestly care about that. The Scorpionfolk came up to the group and gave a breif bow toward the three she cared about, and let her eyes fall onto Cyril after a respectful look toward the two chiefs. "Greetings, highness." she said, her tone casual for speaking with royalty, clearly showing she had no interest in his title, even when using one to him. "I am Thuraya Azize... I've been instructed to accompany you and your sentinals, South." Her tone spoke clearly, she was not going for him, she was simply going because Seryosa told her to. She held no loyalty to the prince or respect for his sentinals, but would fight for them for the time being, that was all.

The Arena of Gurata

For a brief moment, Cyril didn't even look towards the H'kelan ambassador, at least not immediately. His thoughts were too busy, turned back to what little he had seen of Mizra out of the corner of his eye. The Prince of Barcea was not deeply educated in magic, only knowing the general ideas behind the basics with no actual skill. He knew almost nothing about what many would consider the more "controversial" aspects of the magic and the supernatural, beyond childhood stories and other anecdotes like that. Despite his lack of knowledge, though, what little he had seen of Mizra, even out of the corner of his eye... seemed wrong.

Even as the Prince remained in his own thoughts though, time continued ticking on. Despite the way Ennis may have phrased his "request" for a banquet, it certainly gave Kisarin more than enough of an excuse to throw another party. A grin broke out over his face, and giving it just a glance Yihira gave a sigh, knowing what was coming. Up the big man's hand went, and then down, clapping Ennis on the back heavily, with more than enough force to send the man crumbling down to his knees. "I like the way you think, Ambassador! If more H'kelans thought the way you did, I doubt we'd be having a problem at all!" With that, the man turned, already beginning to shout out orders, sending Guratans scurrying.

Perhaps it was Kisarin's naturally merry self coupled with his shouting that finally brought Cyril fully back to reality. He gave a brief sigh, before a nod to himself. Ennis was right, at least when it came to how he presented himself; he had allowed himself to be shaken a little too much by something he didn't understand, and it was showing. It took him a moment to regain his composure, but the paleness left his face as a sort of pleased smile came over his face. All things considered, it hadn't been that hard; after all, they had won, and everyone had fought well. All he had to do was reach into just how proud he was feeling.

"You're completely right, Ennis. Everyone's earned the rest, and I hope they enjoy it. Besides, I need to work with the three Chiefs a little more before we depart. We'll leave tomorrow."

It was then Cyril blinked in surprise as the scorpionfolk that had been Drosil and Shadar's opponent came into sight, bowing and introducing herself. Even if he had sent Diane towards her first, it had honestly surprised him that she was already up, never mind the fact she was speaking to them. Her tone seemed to underline just how she had been ordered to come, so he didn't fight it, giving a nod. "Welcome to the party then, Ms. Azize. We'll be happy to have you along."

As the fighters began to disperse and fellow group members enter onto the arena floor Alice took a moment to look around and see just who it was she'd battled against. Something churned inside of her as a sense of who it really was that'd knocked her out tickled the back of her mind.

“What is it, Miss Alice?” Quietly questioned Stark as she stood perfectly still, also observing.

“Come along, Stark.” Her words were simple as the shorter females moved across the arena towards the head of blue hair that was Alice’s target.

She squared her shoulders, Hissy still resting on her shoulders with his tongue flickering out every few seconds, as she approached Cyril with a smirk and confidence.

“This has got to be the most interesting set up for a joke I’ve ever seen. A handful of Gifted,” Her eyes flickered to Joachim and nodding to Chikako, “The Divine Paladin,” She smiled and gave a slight bow to the massive man before squaring off and turning back to Cyril, “And the Prince of Barcea walk into an Guartan arena...May I ask what the punchline is?”

Stark kept still as Alice spun her words, keeping behind Alice with her hands folded behind her back.

The Prince blinked in surprise as he looked away from the H’kelan ambassador, and to the woman who had just been one of their opponents. Briefly glancing around, he gave a slight shake of head, saying, “I don’t know what it is, and I hope there isn’t one. Punchlines are gimmicky.”

She nodded in thought for a moment before straightening up a tad more. “Understandable your Highness. My name is Alice Leon, this is my companion Stark. Would you have any need for two more in your party? I assume you are returning to the south and I do feel it is now time for the both of us to leave this place.” Of course she just really wanted to go somewhere South but being able to meet some of The Gifted from her childhood that she looked up to was also a plus.

The Prince thought about it a moment, before giving a shrug and a nod. “I have no qualms with it. You had the… misfortune of fighting one of the stronger members of our party, so considering the fact you still want to come along, that’s honestly impressive. You’re welcome along.”

“If you want to see impressive you should see me with my guns.” She chuckled as she rolled her shoulders. “I wouldn’t say that it was a misfortune. She had to listen to my bone dry puns.” Stark groaned from behind Alice while she simply smirked and took a side glance at Chi before turning back to Cyril once more. “With that said, thank you for allowing us to join your party.”

"Of course." Cyril replied, with one final nod.

The feast and accompanying celebration were, in a word, massive. Not only was the entirety of the Arena loud and boisterous for the night, with plenty of good food and drink to go around, but the Homestead as a whole seemed to be awake all the night long. While many celebrated, the Prince and the three Chiefs of Gurata were hard at work planning and organizing how the coming days would progress. It would take some time for fighting forces of the tribes to be gathered, but the hope was that it would be soon enough. Thanks to all the light, the merrymaking, and in a few cases thinking, no one seemed to notice just how strange that night was.

---

The Wilds of Gurata

The night was darker than usual within the land of Gurata. No moon or stars could be seen thanks to the dark clouds that had rolled in, blotting out the sky. Because of the sudden deep dark many tribes came to a full halt, some out of practicality and some out of superstition. Even the animals seemed to take shelter from the heavy dark.

To the southwest of the Homestead, the woman known as Mizra was one of the few things still moving in the night, finding her way forward blindly. Her dress was in tatters, and her hair was matted with her own blood. Even her flesh was shredded, the tentacles having formed from it either falling apart entirely or just hanging limply. With one of her eyes completely destroyed and the other rendered equally useless by the night she continued to move in halting, haphazard bursts, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

As she moved, she grit her teeth. The noises she made, such as the grunts or the hisses, weren't that of pain even if there was plenty of it; no, they were out of anger. Years of effort had just been crushed underfoot by an unrealized brat, and she was forced to flee exposed and broken thanks to the presence of the Divine Paladin. To stay would have meant certain death, but given enough time she could recover and return when the threats had inevitably moved on. What really mattered at the moment, though, was to find a place to hide for the time being, and not just from the Paladin.

Even if the night was heavy, there wasn't necessarily anything unnatural about it. This changed in an instant in the area immediately around Mizra, and by the time she realized that something had changed it was far too late (even if she was quick to realize it, thanks to her paranoia). The air became thicker, positively oppressive. The stench of death and decay instantly filled the air, clouding the senses. The already deep dark seemed to become a physical blackness, one that enclosed her in heavy walls.

Even in the moment she turned, whirling about, the parts of her face that could still have been considered together went completely white. She opened her mouth, but all the came out was a choked sound as a hand wrapped around her throat much too tightly, holding her off of the ground with ease. The hand was a strange white, so much so that it was able to actually pierce through the darkness to be seen. With long and thin fingers with too many joints, it twitched every so often in unnatural places, such as in the middle of finger segments of even in the center of the hand itself.

As she looked up, she could see the vague outline of the form that held her, but it was for the complete opposite reason that she was able to see the hand. The form was even darker than surrounding walls of black, and indeed seemed to be the source of it; It was tall and thin, just vaguely humanoid in shape. The edges of Its form were distorted and fragmented, dissolving away into energy and tendrils that spread out to become one with the immediate dark. It seemed to wear a hood, one that mostly concealed Its much too white face, and blazing golden eyes peered towards her.

It grinned, showing Its much too sharp and twisted teeth.

"Well, well, look what I caught tonight! A broken and fleeing bitch in her natural habitat!"

The terrible voice was one she immediately recognized, and had hoped to never hear again. It was something worse than metal grinding, beasts snarling, and a storm raging together all at once. It sent chills down her spine, even while she felt something began to squirm within her in response to Its presence; something that had become a part of her long ago beginning to rebel, and try to shift its way out. When that wasn't successful, it began to tear, pain blossoming up and down her spine.

"I just need more-"

"Ah, ah, ah, ah!" One of those long, thin fingers went up to lightly press over her lips, and immediately she fell silent against her will as she felt a buzzing sort of numbness fill her jaw. "No excuses, no pleading, no more speaking. How many years has it been? Ten, fifteen, twenty? Eh, doesn't really matter, you should have always remembered our deal. I just asked you for one itty bitty, teensy weensy favor in return for giving you what you needed to stand head and shoulders above the rest, didn't I? 'Break the guy who calls himself 'Nocte' in whatever way you can.' And what did you do? You got yourself broken instead."

Slowly, It held her closer, golden eyes burning with a sinister and frightening light as It spoke much more quietly than before, asking, "Did you mishear, possibly? Get it backwards? Get hit in the head in the past couple of years and catch a case of the stupid?" It gave an almost violent shrug, one that jostled her body and disoriented her, It swinging her around easily like a ragdoll with the movement before It held her back in front of It again. "Oh well, doesn't matter! You failed miserably. You know what that means?"

"Do-hck-" Before she could finish even a single word Its hand clenched around her throat, in one easy movement crushing her windpipe. As It did this, the grin on Its face widened, stretching beyond a natural point even as the flesh of Its cheeks tore to reveal more and more sharp, wicked teeth.

"Ta ta, and good riddance."

She didn't get the chance to scream, thanks to both the hand crushing her throat and just how fast it happened. In a fraction of the second, a strange sort of split tore across Its chest in a jagged tear. In the next moment the split opened into a maw, Its entire body angling as this maw opened with tearing flesh and cracking bones. Teeth made of bones that twisted even in the moment curved out, and strange tentacles made of sick flesh waved erratically, excited at the apparent prospect of a meal. Even as one hand held continued to grip her throat, the other tore forwards like a claw, ripping into her stomach and shredding flesh with ease as it found a grip. With both hands it pulled her forwards, and the maw closed down upon her with a snap, severing her upper half from her lower with one snap, sending her left arm spinning off to the side as it was broken away. Even as Its arms lunged out to grab her lower half and pull it in as well, one tendril shot out from the maw to catch the arm before it hit the ground and pull it in as well.

Mizra died afraid.

The maw sealed itself close once again. Its body twitched back and forth violently, skin lunging out as if something was trying to push out from It from the inside. It shuddered, before It finally went still once again, hunched over slightly. With Its head still bowed it slowly brought up both hands in a shrug again.

"Oh well... I forgive you, because it didn't matter all that much anyway."

And then It threw Its head back, mouth opening wide as it began to laugh, slowly at first, but then picking up in volume and pace:

"Heh heh heh... heheheheheh... KyahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!"

---

The Road South

In contrast to the dark night, perhaps even in defiance against it, the next morning was bright. Even after the celebrating of the night before, the Sentinels and their companions rose early to prepare and leave. They did so with very little fanfare, though the three Chiefs of Gurata were there, to see them off in different capacities. While Yihira's farewell was cheerful, Kisarin's was certainly much louder, and Seryosa's seemed entirely focused on Thuraya, as she sent her subordinate off to the south.

The steadily growing group began their return to Barcea. In comparison to the trip north, the trip south was relatively uneventful. They carved their way back down through the wilds of Gurata, crossing the border back into the land of Barcea, the climate steadily becoming warmer once again, and the roads becoming smooth and traveled. They were not going to make it back to the Capitol in one day, but they were able to pass through and past several Barcean villages, before settling into one for the night.

News that came from the border was tense, but not utterly terrified.

---

The Renata Household

The past few days at the Lady of Demons' home had been... educational to Etsuko, to put it lightly. When both she and Calypso weren't lost in the winding and (at this point undoubtedly) changing halls of the mansion and waiting for rescue by Richard, who was never too far behind, they were spending time with one of the two of the Renatas. With the Lady of Demons herself, Etsuko spent time exploring just where the source of her powers came from, and how to further tap into them. It was a difficult process, one that challenged her to her very core. Still, she always had a break when she spent time with Helle... where she instead learned how fast she could run, or how well she could hide, only to figure out how fast she could run still when she was found.

There was one other person that Etsuko had met during her days in the mansion, one that Lady Renata had mentioned in their initial meeting. Resalia Narratio was another of the few remaining demons in the world, and served Lady Renata as everything from a researcher, to an experimenter, to a recorder, and in Etsuko's case educator. With Resalia, Etsuko learned more about magic as a whole, lessons that she would be able to take to her time with Lady Renata. From both Resalia and Lady Renata, though, she continued learning about the organization called the Manu Propria, the enemy that had yet to be seen.

In truth, Etsuko never thought she’d learn this much in her entire lifetime. It was both exhilarating and exhausting and every night, she went to bed with an overwhelming amount of knowledge. What truly amazed her was the fact that she had so much potential. More than she had initially thought.

The breaks with Helle were certainly welcome, though she was genuinely surprised by how well her body managed to hold together every time the younger demon felt the need to hug her. She was sure that Calypso was just as surprised, if not worried about her every time the young Renata came out of hiding.

In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if Helle was hiding around the corner as she left the room she was given to get Calypso.

However, it was not the younger Renata who was waiting for Etsuko as she emerged from her room. Instead, it was the elder, who was standing a few feet down the hallway. The Lady of Demons had the habit of often appearing suddenly like this, without warning, and whenever she did she usually had some sort of smirk on her face, as if she knew that what she did had a habit of startling people.

"It's almost time for you to leave my home for the time being, Ms. Tanaka."

Etsuko jumped—as she always did whenever she was startled—though it had nothing to do with the fact that it was Lady Renata that she saw; it was the fact that she had been expecting one and gotten the other. She let out a sigh, as if to recover her sense, and then looked at Lady Renata.

“Oh, I see. Will we be going home?”

Lady Renata gave a slight shake of her head before she spoke, saying, "No, you will not. Instead, you will head back west, return to the Capitol, and present yourself to Queen Serio once again and fall under her care instead. A message has already been delivered to her, so she will be expecting you. From then on, you will stay with the Serios until I find a need to say otherwise."

She nodded her head, and even though she wanted to ask why they’d be going back to the Capitol, she’s learned in her time with Lady Renata that it was better not to ask. Lady Renata always seemed to have some sort of plan in mind anyway.

“Oh, um, alright then. Are we leaving today?”

"That you are." Lady Renata said this with a slight nod. "Your companion has already been informed, and should already be packed now."

Etsuko nodded again and gave a slight smile. “Oh! Well, umm…thank you for letting us stay here. And for teaching me so much!”

"Of course." The Lady of Demons gave a slight wave of her hand, as if it were not something to be so concerned with. "Prepare your things, and meet me at the front door. We'll say our farewells then." And, with that, she turned, simply beginning to walk away.

Etsuko retreated back into the room that was given to her, packing up her things as was instructed.

She managed to find her way to the front of the manor, and felt some achievement in the fact that she didn’t need Richard’s help for it. Upon seeing Calypso, she smiled and waved, going over to stand by her side.

Calypso, of course, returned the wave, excitedly wiggling her fingers as she did so. Though Etsuko's time in the manor had consisted of plenty of education and instruction, things that Calypso wasn't really a part of, she seemed to have found ways to entertain herself anyway.

"Agggh, do they have to go!"

"Yes, Helle."

Behind Etsuko not only had Lady Renata appeared again, but also Richard and Helle as well. The blonde and younger of the two sisters, clearly, wasn't very happy about the fact that her newest playmate was being sent away... So much so that, without warning, she suddenly pounced forwards, hugging Etsuko quite tightly.

[b]"I don't want you to goooooo!"

Etsuko was expecting the hug from Helle and giggled as she wrapped her arms around the smaller demon and returned the hug.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be back.”

"You better!" Helle only pulled away after Lady Renata gave Richard a nod, and the butler moved forwards to gently pry her away. While the younger demon huffed and puffed, the elder gave another one of her smiles that teetered just on the edge of being a smirk.

"Enjoy your time in the Capitol, Ms. Tanaka."

Seeing as everyone in the Renata manor ended up being like family in the last few, very intense, days, Etsuko couldn’t help herself as she went over to Richard and gave him a hug.

“Thank you, Mr. Richard.”

The old butler gave a slight chuckle, allowing himself to be embraced before he stepped back, giving a slight bow. "It's my pleasure, Ms. Tanaka. Don't worry, though; I'm sure I'll see you again very soon."

She smiled and let go of him as he gave a bow. Then she turned to Lady Renata and hesitated. Was it really appropriate? She didn’t want to leave her out.

After a moment’s deliberation, she went over and gave the Lady of Demons herself a hug.

"Thank you, Lady Renata."

The eyebrow of the Lady raised ever slightly as Etsuko took the time to make her decision, and then her eyes opened slightly further at the hung itself. After a moment, she gently brought her hand up, reaching above to lightly pat the girl on her head.

"Save your thanks for later. Off you go."

Etsuko let go, satisfied with the pat on the head and nodded. “We’ll see each other soon.” With that, she returned to Calypso and smiled. “Off we go.”

---

The Road South to the Capitol

The next day, the Sentinels and their companions continued their way south. Back within the inner parts of Barcea, they were able to travel at a much more comfortable pace, returning to the best roads that they had seen in the past few days. The walls of the Capitol came into sight around midday, and as they were once more spotted by the guard a call went up, news rapidly travelling of their arrival. The people swarmed them once again on their entrance, welcoming back, and the group slowly made their way from outer walls to inner, and beyond to the castle.

The Queen welcomed them back herself in the throne room, and listened to what they had to say about their journey and results. She seemed pleased, though in her reserved, calm way. She thanked them for their efforts on behalf of Barcea, and welcomed all of the newcomers as well, showing her gratitude for them as well. The audience with the group as a whole was rather quick, before they were allowed to disperse for the most part. However, the Queen requested that Joachim and Chikako stay for a little while longer, so they might speak.

When the group was gone, Joachim dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Quite simply, he said, "He understands if the Gifted are not welcome here, Queen Serio. Barcea has no reason to love them from the God King War. He offers his own life as payment, but asks you spare his companion here."

The Queen gave her usual smile, and a slight shake of her head. "That is not necessary, Joachim Raizen. The past is in the past, and Barcea made its fair share of mistakes at the time. It is not fair to hold it against you, especially since you protected our people in the present."

In five days, the group had gone north, gathered many allies, and returned to Barcea once again. They had done well.

---

The Next Day

The news that came in the next day brought a grave reminder of what the land of Barcea was dealing with. Those watching the border brought news of how the H'kelans were beginning to gather en masse, clearly preparing for some sort of incursion. Tensions were rapidly building, and those on the border were requesting for reinforcement. Unfortunately, the Guratans were not due to be prepared for some time, which meant that, for the time being, the nation of Barcea was on its own.

With the few men they were able to send, both Kori and Cyril came to the decision together to send some of their best with them. The Sentinels were gathered, and told to prepare to ride to the border. Very quickly Alasa, Sampson, Gortual, and Diane prepared themselves, before receiving Kori's blessing to be sent on their way. Though Cyril wished he could join them, Kori asked for him to remain, in case a messenger sent in advance by Gurata arrived.

Even after the Sentinels left though, two who were familiar to some of those in the group returned to the castle.

Even if the Capitol was still as grand as she remembered, the atmosphere was different. The citizens moved about with a bit of fear, looking over their shoulders, wondering if they were surrounded by friend or foe. Etsuko did her best to smile and appear friendly—a feat that she and Calypso seemed to have down to an art—but she could tell that it did nothing for the citizens’ nerves. So they continued on their way to the castle.

Just as Lady Karin had said, those at the castle were notified of their eventual arrival and they were taken to the Queen’s throne room immediately. The fortune teller wondered if Cyril and his Sentinels were doing well—especially considering the circumstances—and that no one had been lost since the last time they had seen each other. She also wondered if any newcomers had joined them. The Prince seemed to have a knack for recruiting others into joining his noble cause, and it would certainly be nice to see some new faces.

As they entered the throne room, her eyes landed on the Queen and she curtsied.

The Queen smiled at the sight of Etsuko and Calypso, the latter electing to do her usual wave rather than curtsying or bowing. The Queen rose from her throne, stepping down to them and closing the gap without the slightest care, saying, "Welcome back, Etsuko and Calypso. I trust you have been well?"

As Etsuko rose, she gave Queen Kori a smile and nodded.

“Yes, thank you. And how have you been?”

"Oh, well enough. There has been a decent amount of good news as of late, thankfully. Including your arrival; I'm glad you took us up on our offer."

It took Etsuko a moment to realize what she was talking about, but after a series of blinks she seemed to understand.

“Aha, yes, well…I-I’m sure you need all the support you can get. I-I may not be able to do much, but I’m sure Calypso would!”

The Queen smiled, before giving a slight nod. "I'm glad for both of you, my dear. You know where the Sentinels are, of course, and Cyril has brought a few more under his wing. I'm sure you'll meet them all soon enough."

She smiled a little, glad to know that her assumption that the Sentinels had grown was correct.

“We look forward to meeting them. Er, but is there anything you would like us to do now?”

The Queen shook her head as she turned, walking back to return to her throne. "No, not at all. Simply make yourself comfortable, of course."

“O-Oh, um, alright.”

For some reason, that made Etsuko feel nervous. Then again, she was a somewhat nervous individual anyway.

Throughout the rest of the castle things were quiet. It was a lull in activity finally, at least for a little while; now, they could rest as best as they could, before the war truly began.

The warmth of Barcea was a gracious change for both of the woman as they left Gurata behind them. The sun and the heat caused a bit of an ache in Stark’s chest; one of longing and sadness but also one that could be pushed away. She hadn’t found a new home, so to speak, but for now this would do. For now this would be her place to come back and sleep and train and learn about the world and if what Alice had said on their travels to this land was true- she knew just the person to ask.

So far she’d only passed a few others in the halls and thankfully none of them asked where she was going in such a hurry. Stark steeled herself mentally as the question repeated over and over and over in her mind as she got closer to the Gardens.

It only took her a moment to spot him from one of the many entrances but she wouldn’t let her nerves fail her now. Stark took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders and forcing the shaking in her hands to stop.

”Excuse me, Mister Dubois?” She let her presence be known before stepping into his line of sight before him. She swallowed back her nervousness before continuing, ”I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions...about the Divines…” She was feeling smaller and smaller by the second.

The giant man was kneeling upon the ground, his head bowed. Both of his hands were brought up, lightly brought together as he very obviously prayed. To begin with, he didn’t react to her presence, eyes remaining closed behind his glasses as he continued with his silent reverence. However, as the moment came to a close, he began to speak, saying the following:

“Which of the Divines shall I
Pick for the day? Should it be
Yumio, to proclaim my freedom?
Danmun, to embrace my control?
Ambrosia, to announce my love?
The Master, to use my strength?
Silvae, to hold compassion?
Azim, to seek out knowledge?
The Masked, to keep my secrets?
Whether I choose all of one,
All Seven are watching me.
Praise unto them, praise them, praise.”

Only after this chant did he open his eyes. Slowly, he looked over to Stark, a calm sort of smile on his face. The Paladin, known for how fearsome he was and how violent he could be, seemed to be utterly at peace.

“What is it, my child? What would ye know?”
Stark stood silent and in awe as Damon began to speak. She filed away his words as best she could before remembering how to speak to answer his own question back at her.

Stark hadn’t actually planned on making is this far so her words came out near all at once and in a singular breath, “I’m sorry for disrupting your prayers Mister Dubois I was just wondering if, maybe, you could teach me about the Divines. If you have time of course! I was never taught about them when I was growing up and I know you don’t like heathens so please don’t strike me down but I want to learn and I want to know about them and I figured you’d be the best person to ask because according to Miss Leon you’re the Divine Paladin and she said you could teach me.”

The words ended quickly as she snapped her mouth shut and hoped that he understood her in her moment of nervousness. Another deep inhale and she spoke slower, ”I’m sorry Mister Dubois. I don’t really know where to begin asking questions about them.”

[b]”The good who are willing to learn shall always be taught. All they have to do is simply ask.” He continued to smile, reaching down as he did so to lift up the heavy symbol from his neck. The silver fashioned into the shape of an open rip or tear gleamed brightly, and while he held it in her direction he did not remove it from his neck.

”Ye are in the land of Barcea, as I’m sure ye well know now. This country’s patron Divine is the Lady of the Abyss, Ambrosia. This is one of her symbols. She is also known as the Lady of the Void, and the Lady of Love. She, more often than not, presents herself as a woman whose beauty is beyond measure, and often roams the land of Barcea unnamed, visiting those who she will. She, currently, is the Divine that I have currently picked for myself. Do ye have any questions about her?”

”The Lady of the Void…” Stark repeated it to get a feel for the words on her tongue. ”The Void being darkness? Thats an odd combination isn’t it? Love and Void?”

”There is more than one aspect of the Void, child. The aspect which Lady Ambrosia presides over is its depth, its warmth, and how it surrounds a person. In a way, Love is a natural step for her embrace.”

Stark’s brows came together in mild confusion. ”So if Lady Ambrosia is the embodiment of all of those things and these things are all positive does that mean there are negatives too?” Another thought came to her, ”Are all of the Divines apart of the Void since there are more aspects of it or are other Divine’s the embodiment of other aspects?”

The Paladin gave a nod. ”There is good and bad in everything, child. But onto yer next question, two of the Divines are directly related to the Void. The others have their own aspects. It all depends on which Divine ye are talking about.”

A suppressed exhale of air escaped from between her lips as she realized that she was asking for quite a bit more than she had originally thought.

”Can you tell me more about the Lady of the Void? Why is she the patron of Barcea? Have you ever met her?”

”Of course I have met her, dear child. She enjoys Barcea because, for a very, very long time, it was a land devoted to peace. It rarely went to war unless it absolutely had to. She was disappointed with the years before, but all has been forgiven.”

Something warm spread inside of Stark’s chest as she listened to Damon’s words. Was there really such a being like that? Someone who enjoys peace and promotes love? Dozens of other questions rose within Stark but she pushed them away for another time- keeping her mind in check.

”So which of the Divines is the ‘dark’ side of The Void?”

The Divine Paladin gave a slow shake of his head. ”Do not think of it in those terms, child. Lady Ambrosia is a Dark Divine herself, and yet she covers all of those aspects that I have told ye. Light and Dark is not the same thing as Good or Evil… but to continue to answer your question, the Divine who oversees the other part of the Void is the Master. He is proud of his Power, and that is one of his aspects. Unlike Lady Ambrosia, who is focused on the Depth of the Void, the Master’s attention is turned to its Edge; how it cuts deeper than any blade.”

”So you’re saying that the Divines are neither strictly good or bad?” She was struggling to understand but then again that is what asking questions was for.

”We are made in their image, child. There is Good and Evil in everyone, which is a reflection of the nature of the Divines.”

”Huh...who’d have thought…” She was speaking her thoughts before another came to mind. ”Are all off the Divines as active as Lady Ambrosia is? Also, why did you select her as your Divine? I’d think that someone who could stop a monster in it’s tracks just by looking at it would praise The Master.” She meant no insult by it and perhaps mentioned one of the many exaggerated stories that Alice had spoken of but she thought nothing of it now.

”I have had my fair amount of time serving the Master directly, as I have all of the Divines. For now, though, the Master has his champion, whether either chooses to admit it or not. For the time being, I choose Lady Ambrosia because she is so active. Not all of the Divines are as present as she is.”

”Just how active is she?” She was more amused than anything that the idea of a beautiful higher being giving the almighty Damon Dubois orders, although all that came to mind was a Damon with makeup and breasts. An eerie yet rather funny image.

”Very much so.” The Paladin did not explain any further, though he continued to smile.

She nodded for another moment, pushing that image out of her mind. ”I’m not sure how to ask this without being rude but what is the purpose of the Divines? Were they the ones to create everyone or are they simply stronger humans?”

Once more, it became clear that Damon was reciting something:

”From the Seven came the World.”

He then gave another nod, saying, ”Indeed, they created everyone and everything in this realm of existence of ours.”

She was quiet for another moment as that whole thought was turned over and over in her mind. ”How does one go about praising the Divines? Are there certain prayers or actions one must take?”

”There are certain common actions to be taken, yes. Some of the lines I have recited in front of ye today are a few examples of common scripture. However, seeing as the Divines vary so greatly, what truly matters is being honest in yer reverence of them, and they will understand.”

Stark was almost sad at his words before thinking back on the poem from before. ”What can you tell me of the others? Please Mister Dubois I would like to know as much as possible.”

The Paladin gave a nod with his smile. ”I appreciate yer eagerness, child, but ye will not learn everything in just a day. It is good that ye have begun showing an interest so young, though; it means that ye will be able to learn as much as ye can.”

”Then...perhaps...would you mind if I came to you every few days to learn more? I’ll cook or brew tea if you would have me.”

The Paladin chuckled some, giving a slight nod. “Such payment is not necessary child, but I will be happy to share what I know with ye.”

A large smile spread across her face as she nodded with vigor. ”T-Thank you Mister Dubois! Truly thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” And perhaps he never would. After all being spoken to like an actual human being was something still freshly new to the single named girl. ”Um, before I go...do you think I might be able to meet Lady Ambrosia in the future? I mean...if I stay in Barcea?”

His smile seemed to grow ever slightly. ”Oh, the possibility will always be there, child.”

Stark seemed to only perk up even more. She wasn’t quite sure what to do in this scenario of thanking someone so she just went with the first thing that came to mind. She gave a bow from the hips before standing with a smile, ”I’m going to go to the library and see what else I can find on the Divines. I may have a question or two the next time around though, just a slight warning.”

”I look forward to it, child.”

She took a step backwards before turning and going on her way towards the library where she would spend quite a bit of her time looking for the answers to her questions.

It was Noon in an empty courtyard within the castle grounds. Summoned shades were placed where ever people may enter, giving off presence of forgetfulness on anyone who tried to enter the area, making them turn around and walk away before they realized what just happened. In the courtyard, Cyril would be waiting, as he had for the last 3-4 hours, for Drosil to finish drawing out a series of magical circles and sigils, making a design with a rather large one surrounding two smaller ones, all of them bearing a number of sigils and mystical symbols with in their outline. At this point Drosil himself would be putting down the finishing touches to the final circle. As he got up, a slight wobble could be notice in his stance, the mage seeming to have lost a lot of his vibrance from before. The wounds from the fight had taken a lot out of him, and even with healing, he hadn't been able to do much, leaving Shadar to have done most of the traveling. The majority of the damage were the burns on his arm, which strangely enough, seemed to have spread to the rest of his body while he resided inside where it was that he stayed while Shadar took over.

The burns had, by now, faded away to nothingness(another oddity of the condition), but Drosil still looked far from well. His hair hung in a tangled mess, his skin had taken on a rather sickly palor, and his eyes were somewhat hazy. As he rose from the ground,he had to lean against his staff as a series of coughing fits took hold of his form, with each body wracking cough coming a cloud of black smoke and the smell of ashes, fire, and brimstone. He'd been doing this for a while now, and had refused to explain or address the issue until today, where he'd approached Cyril to help him in a matter that he described as being of 'grave importance to his health and the health of everyone in the castle.' Now, with his fit over, he carefully walked over to Cyril,making sure not to disturb a single particle of the circle.

"Sorry for the wait, your highness, but it's rather important to be precise with magic to avoid highly dangerous . . . consequences, especially with summoning." Drosil said with a light bow, though even that small action seemed to be rather exhausting, as it took a few seconds to rise again. "Now then, would please hand me the bag I have handed to you. I need to check it's contents, which you've probably made yourself intimately familiar with in your boredom."

Drosil was referring to a large bag which he'd given to Cyril to hold onto. Inside of it had been a myriad of incense candles, crystals and gems bearing a light luminescence, and, rather oddly . . . a crossbow, which he'd taken the liberty of 'borrowing' from the castle quartermaster. He had refused to explain why the crossbow was need for whatever he was doing, as he left it with Cyril, taking the time to place the incense and crystals and certain places in each of the circles.

"Now then, I'm sure you have questions, so please ask them now while I do this. I'll give you the straight truth to any questions you may ask, as you've been patient with me for all this time."

When the Prince's initial questions hadn't been answered by the Jasian, Cyril had settled in for the long haul. After all, thanks to the shades, it wasn't like he could simply leave, so instead he just impatiently waited as Drosil made his preparations for... whatever it was that he was going to do. Cyril only knew that it was very clearly something related to magic, but any sort of the specifics were lost on the Prince. The items within the bag did very little to help with Cyril's confusion, though the sight of the crossbow certainly set him on edge. When Drosil left the crossbow with him, that didn't help at all either.

"What the Hell is going on here, Drosil? Why are we out here, what are you setting up, and why am I supposed to be holding this and for possibly what?" The Prince asked these questions rapidly, his irritation very clear as he crossed his arms slightly. He was already regretting going along with the Jasian that day at all.

"Well, to put it simply, I've made a bit of a costly error in my preparation for my last fight." Drosil stated as he made sure everything was just right, before suddenly suffering from another coughing fit, waving the black smoke out of his face lest it start another one. "I am currently in the process of losing my soul to an Ifrit aI summoned to assist me in my last battle, and if that happens, the entirety of the peopel in this castle while be endanger of immolation. A spirit summoned into this world is bad enough, but given a host to anchor them to this plane, and a Divineborn at that . . . I shudder to think what they'd be able to accomplish."

Drosil quickly made sure that everything was completely precise and perfect, making sure that not a single crystal, symbol, of candle was out of place.

"What I'm trying to do now is what I wanted to do after the fight, which is remove the spirit, but at this point, the possibility of failure is high enough that I need to have a contingency plan, which is what you are my highness. If the outer ring turns red, that means something has gone wrong, which is very likely, but if the outer circle begins to erode, you need to kill me with that crossbow. Fast. We've only known each other for a short while so I imagine that it won't be that hard given that the alternative is the death of a great number of people in this castle, and possibly the capital." Drosil spoke with a disturbing amount of calm and composure given not only what he'd asked, but what he said was happening to him at this moment. It was almost as if he'd gone through this procedure numerous times before. "Now, if you have any more questions, make them quick. I don't have much time to waste on talk, especially since the Ifrit has begun it's takeover in earnest, having sensed what i'm preparing to do."

To say that what the Jasian had to say was an unpleasant surprise for the Prince would have been putting it politely. To be completely honest, it was a nasty problem all around. To begin with, the Prince opened his mouth slightly, as if thinking about something, before he shook his head slightly. Not only had Drosil backed himself into a corner, but he had backed the Prince into one as well; it was his duty to make sure this didn't go wrong, for the sake of the Capitol as a whole, not just those in close proximity.

"For someone so intelligent you seem to make a lot of stupid mistakes, Drosil..." He brought the crossbow up, taking one step back as he aimed it at the man, gaze level. "Let's just get it over with, and I'll be praying over here that I don't have to kill you. Don't know what that'd to do Shadar, and it wouldn't be fair to him."

"Intelligence is not the same as wisdom, and I never claimed to have any of that. But truly, I wanted to do it earlier, where ti would've been easy, but the Ifrit damaged my body a lot more intensely than it had ever before during testing. Rather clever, almost respect him. And, if it does come to that, I can only hope that Shadar will get the chance to live out his life. Our parent owes him that much, at the very least." Drosil spoke softly as he stepped carefully over the sigils. With a snap of his fingers, the incense holders all lit at once, and as he stepped into one of the smaller circles, the sigils began to take an unnerving violet glow.

Drosil would sit cross-legged in the circle, breathing deeply before he began to let out a mystic chant in the language of magic, his voice resonating with arcane power. As he chanted, the air would soon feel as if it were vibrating, and low rumble rattling in the minds of those present, followed by the crackling heat of fire. Cyril would began to feel the heat crawl up his from as flames began to eek out of Drosil's body, dragged out by some invisible force and forced into the secondary circle, taking on a vague, humanoid form. While intense, the ritual seemed to be going well . . . at first.

The first bit of trouble came about half way through, around 30 mins, when the flame in the center, still rather indistinct in it's look, raised a hand and thrust it towards Drosil. The chanting was suddenly interrupted by violent coughing fit, and the rumbling was suddenly interrupted with the sound of a wailing screech, the inner circle surrounding Drosil shifting into a brigth orange color, then bursting into a flames. Drosil's body would controt and twost in violent and inhuman ways, flames and ashes bursting from his skin and trying to crawl over the rest of his body before dying out. It was clear from the look on Drosil's face that the pain was immense but, with an extreme force of effort, he fought the spirit back down, the flames receeding as he continued, this time pouring a lot more power into his words, speaking much faster and stronger than before. Within 15 minutes, the flames were all collected with in the secondary circle.

What had been just a raging inferno was now a rather large humanoid figure, with firey red skin, large black horns curing over it's head like a ram, it frame holding a great deal of muscle and mass to it as two flamming pits looming down at the two humans before it with contempt. It's lower half was that equivalent to a goat, with cloven hooves and furred loins keeping the spirits modesty, not that it would've minded in all honest.

W̾̆ͫͨ̃ͨ҉e͛ͪ͆̇̅͗ll̡̔ͫ, ̸̉ͯ̌w̏ͨͪͮ̌̀ͧĕ̷͊̋̑͆̌̌l̿l̂ͩ̅̎̚,ͫ͠ ̔ͦ̓̔̈̔̿Tͯ̎̆̎ͮ̉wͫͭi̇̽ͯnͪ-̐͗̏̒ͦͫ́͟s̍ó̆űͭ͑̅̈́̈͞l̓͜,̂̓͝ ̅̎͊̊͆I̧̔͒ͨ̚ ̂̋͊͝mͧ͌̓u̔̅s̅t̶̆ ̿̃ͭͬͭͥ̎aͯ͘d̴̋ͨ̾̃̃m̋ͧ̿͒͛iͨ̈͠t̐ͬ̏̐̊̊ ̢̉tͫ͡hͯả̸͂̇ͧ̊ͤt̒ͬ̇ ̌̚Î̇ͣ͠'̐ͯ͝m̀͌̌ͨ͊ͮ̽ ́̌i͡m̂ͮͮ͛̄̈͋͞p̷̐̓r̡͗̂̓̉͆̌e͛s͑͑ͣ̋́sͩ̿̓̑̕e͑̀ͤdͦ͗̆̃ͤͥ͜.̌̑ͭ̀ ̸Y͊͊͛̀o͏ûͮͦͤ͊ͫ͞ ͩ̊ͬ̚wͪ͊ͦ̈́̑̂̚e̴͒r̡e͗͂̈ͩ ̧͒̅̎͛aͤb̸ļ́̽ͫͣ̉eͪ̓́ ͛ͥ͌́t̶̀̍ͨ͛̓́oͤ̌ ̄p͜u̎ͭ͋͢s̃͗ͣ͑͏h ̢͊̊̆͆̋m̓̉̓̐ͧeͫͯ̓̒ ̄̃́ͮ̉ͪ̈́b̿̉̅̔̉̉́a̾́̀c̿́kͣ͗͌͑ͣͣ̽͏ ͐̌҉a̅͒ͬ̄f̌̄͂ͤ͒̅ͨ͝t̂ͯ̌̆̇̂͡é̌̚r̸̃ ͥ̋͂͐͐̓̾I̓ ̸̂͛̊ͣ̓ͬh͜a̾ͧ͒dͫ̄͒̌̔̌͆ ̉̉t͗ͤͯͮ̌̆͜ȧ̷̐̎ͬ̆̆ͣk͡e̎̽̾͝ņ ̵̾̃͛ͣ̓͛s̽̔̃̕űͫ̉ͩc̛͂́̄h̸̋̌ͭͤͮ̋ ͩͮͪͨ̆̿a͐̀ ͩfiͮr͆̋͑̋̅̚ṁ̔̈ͧ͞ ̐̅́ğ̀ři̍̑̃̒̕ṗ͛̏̍̐ͪͬ͠ ̵͊ͮ͛͊oͧ̈͒̔ͬ͂f͂̌ ̈́̓̿̐y̐̆ǒ̶̆ͣͧ̉ư̓ͬ̄ͣ̄r̷̅͗́ͤ̿͆ ̶͒ṡ͌͒̀ͪ̌̚o̿́̋͒̉͐͝uͥͨͮ͂̅͑͞l͋ͬ̊̍̇. ̐Y̔͑̔oͦ̾̈͛̅u̅͐ͯ̐ͨ͌̅̕r̆̿͂͊ ̊ͤ̔̏r̊e̾s̡̆̾íͥ͗̀l̽̂ͣͯiͬ̒̍ͦ̌̋̚ȩͨͯ́n͊ċ̂̆̄e͒̆͗̊ ̡i͐̌́̾́̅̚͡s͑͐́͛̎ ̛͋̍ͩ̊iͤͦ͑͒ͪm̉̿͑̔̿̽̈́pͣŗ͂e͌ssi͞v̓̅̓̾́ͥ̂͝e͒̏̑̎ͧͯ͘ ̈ͧͦ̆̕.̷̋̈̏̉̿͐ͬ ̎͋̋ͤ̉ͭ.̄ ̷.̶̽͑ͬͣ̏̔̂ ̾̀e̒͌̅̂ͦͤ́s͊̊̈́pͦͣê͌̚c̐̽͗̋̔ͬͨi̕aͭͤ͊̂͐̚͘l̀ly̧̓ ̶̿̿c̉͊̈̍ͩ̊ỏ̸̔̐ͨͤ́n̉͗ͬ̿s͢iͥ́d̅̅̆ͬ̔e͗̐ͬr͏iͤ̕n̋̒̀͛ͯg ̨̋͊͂͊͛ͯ̐hͯ͗̃ͧ͟òwͨͭ̄ ̓y̡͆̑o͛͒ͣuͨ҉ ̏҉oͩ͌́̇̆ͨͥn̡͑̀̎̊͆ͮͨlͦ̄́̈́̏ȳ̴ ȍ̊͒ẁͭ͝n̴̓̂̔ ̷ͮ́h̃͌͆̉̎̀a̛ͣ̅̚lͪͯ̊̃̎f̒̒̑ ̛̊o͒̈ͤ̃f̛̍̓̋͒̈ ̋́͐̄ͫy̵oͪ͛̍̌̚ŭ̶ͭ̊̂͛̃r̓̽̌̋̐͌͌ ̒͌̋ac̶̑̍̑t̅ua͂ͪ̇l̆ͬ̆̍̇̈͐ ̃̐̇ͧ̀s͢ò͊̃̐̂́̚uͨͥͪ͆̓ļ͐̐̽.ͫ͊̄̚͠

The spirt's voice was like that of a roaring flame, but its words, warped as they were, could be barely understood by Cyril, if he strained to understand what it was trying to say. Drosil, however, understood the beast perfectly, and gave only a wane, humorless smile at the spirit's words.

"A little less than half now, if we're to be completely honest."

At that, the spirit only raised a hand to show off a tiny glimmer of light for a second, before Drosil waved his hand over a spot on the magic circle,uttering a single word to dismiss the spirit before promptly falling to his knees, just barely being able to retain consciousness, he felt so drained.

When it looked like things might have gone incredibly wrong very quickly, the Prince had tensed, bringing up the crossbow fully as he aimed it towards Drosil's chest. He kept this position as the minutes kept ticking by, even if the crossbow was a heavy weapon he was unfamiliar with. There was too much at risk to simply slack off, even as being near the heat continued to slowly sap at his energy.

When things were all said and done, though, the tension left Cyril's body just as quickly as the light disappeared. Placing the crossbow to the side as he barely kept himself from tossing it, the Prince quickly went forwards, hand going down to at least keep Drosil upright by keeping a grip on the Jasian's shoulder. Briefly, Cyril glanced to the second circle, thinking back to what little he had understood from the spirit before he looked back to Drosil again, frowning slightly.

"What do you mean by less than half?"

Drosil gave a grateful nod towards Cyril for his assistance, as the ritual had taken a great deal out of him, but a small frown held over his features as he asked for clarification on what Drosil had meant by his statement. A sigh escaped his lips as he motioned for Cyril to allow him to take a seat at one of the many courtyard benches. Once he was seated and had taken a moment to gather his thoughts, he finally spoke up again.

"It's as it sounds. My soul, try as I might've to prevent it, no longer completely belongs to me. I'm now bonded to that Ifrit, for better or for worse, and will be such until I'm able, if ever, to recover the fragment it had taken from me. Luckily, i was rather small, so i should be fine, though I must admit that this is a rather vexing issue." Drosil couldn't help but let out another sigh, which was soon followed by a hiss of pain as he felt a sharp pain stab him in his side. he curled over, taking in quick, sharp breaths before he felt the pain fade away, his eyes seeming a bit hazy as he wiped his brow clean of the sweat that had begun to culminate upon it. "As to what that means specifically, I must say that I'm not sure. The magic that I have been researching is one most of my colleagues view as 'mad', 'suicidal', and only for those who don't value their own lives. Not much research has been done in the subject, at least that the universities of Jasi are concerned, so I'm on my own on what the consequences of this would be. That being said, I've managed well enough on half a soul for around 3 years, so hopefully going around with a bit less won't cause any major harm to my well being."

Drosil continued to recline on the bench, just allowing his body to rest as his mind flutter into the distant fog that was his memory, thinking back to a much, much darker time in his life. Dark, seductive laughter could be heard fluttering through his mind, bringing with it feelings of exstacy, desire, shame, and self-hatred that used to clutter his heart to the brim in past times.

"So . . . is there anything else you would like to know? I'm in no hurry or anything, but after that endeavor, I'd much rather have a good rest. After which, I think I'll be pestering Christopher about his peculiar ability to heal from such a fatal wound. Such an interesting opportunity for study can't be missed, no matter how tired I may feel."

Sitting next to Drosil, Cyril listened with slight horror as Drosil almost casually explained his situation. The Jasian seemed... almost aloof by the entire issue, despite the pain it was causing him. Perhaps he was more worried than Cyril realized, but the Prince couldn't help but feel like any person who was completely insane would be more disturbed about their soul not entirely belonging to him. A sane person would probably also realize that people avoided these fields of research for a reason, but the Prince already had a feeling about how the Jasian might answer if he brought that up. Still, it was interesting to note that there were apparently some things that not even the nation of Jasi as a whole would do.

He almost caught himself asking what had the other half of Drosil's soul, but the Prince stopped himself before he did. He probably didn't want to know.

"Go get some rest, Drosil." As Cyril stood, he gave the Jasian a pat on his shoulder, turning and beginning to walk. "Er, be careful with how much you pester Christopher though. He seems like the type to throw a punch earlier than most, if we're going to be completely honest."

"Heh, that he does," Drosil agreed, noting the subtleties of Cyril's reaction, but choosing not to comment on them, as he was to tired to explain why he was so accepting of his fate. After a few seconds, he felt well enough to rise, stretching out his arms, looking at his arms with a pleased expression as he saw all signs of his possession seemed to have disappeared. "But believe me when I say I've faced things much worse than a boy with a bit of anger issues, so I'm sure I can manage him. Oh, and while I've nothing to hold you to this, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't discuss this with anyone, besides the Queen if you feel that you must."

"I'll keep it as close to my vest as I can, you should know that by now Drosil." Coming to a stop, Cyril gave a nod over his shoulder, but didn't quite take his next step yet. "Anything else you need from me? Any other reason I should be holding a crossbow towards you right now?"

"No, believe it or not, this is an rare occurrence. I'm usually quite good at keeping myself from coming into these positions. But I guess mistakes can always be made. I'll have to work on setting up better counter-measures in case another spirit pulls a similar trick." Drosil gave a light chuckle at Cyril's joke, dark as it may be, before walking off towards his chambers. The shades were dismissed the moment he left the area, and when he reached his room, he'd fall into bed, falling asleep to a terrible, restless night of haunting nightmares, visions of darkness, torture, and helplessness. And again, that same dark laughter, enticing him into the darkness of his own desires, seeking to twist him to it's captivating will. Such nightmares would continue in his mind while his body was paralyzed, the days events leaving him open to a presence he'd rather never come into contact again. In his mind, pounding at his sanity with the intent of breaking it, was one name, over and over again.

The first time around, Etsuko didn’t get a chance to explore the castle. She had thought of trying to locate the castle’s library and reading everything it had to offer, but for once, the fortune teller didn’t feel like learning. She felt it necessary to give her mind a rest; after all, Lady Renata and Resalia were equally tough teachers, the former being much harder than the latter.

So, she chose to explore the castle walls. It was very much like she had imagined fairytale castles, decorated with Serio memorabilia and the like. It fascinated her quite a bit, and more than once, she had to dodge a servant or two since she was close to bumping into them.

While the Diviner's exploration may have been purely innocent, the Paladain's apprentice wasn't quite so. He knew that, somewhere in the castle and its grounds, that the Divine Paladin was probably off praying somewhere, and if he ended up getting spotted by his teacher then he'd be dragged into the whole affair. Christopher wanted to avoid that at all costs, so rather than staying still in his he decided to move... at least until he found a decent hiding spot.

Perhaps she should’ve kept her gaze forward, or else she wouldn’t have bumped into a darkly clad male. Unfortunately, she was too busy inspecting a tapestry that she was passing by that she ended up running straight into the male’s back.

“O-Oh! I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see you…”

What was probably a very solid collision for the small Diviner was barely more than a bump to Christopher. However, he still jumped in surprise, startled, as if he expected the source of the collision to be the Paladin grabbing him. Because of that he quickly turned as he took a sudden step forwards, looking back to her. Only after he looked down (as he had been looking up in anticipation of Damon) did he see it was her, and he relaxed some, letting go of the breath he had drawn in.

“Er, no problem at all. Should have been walking faster.”

She laughed a bit nervously, shaking her head.

“N-No, I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

She looked up (for he was quite a bit taller than she was) and tilted her head at him.

“Um, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Etsuko Tanaka.”

He shook his head slightly in agreement at her statement, before he replied with, “Christopher Nocte.” As he said his name, he brought up a hand slightly in a gesture, lightly tapping his own chest before he dropped it again. “Seeing as you've introduced yourself, I'm guessing your not a servant. Friend of the royals?”

She thought about his question for a moment. Was she really a friend of the royals? Well, what really defined being a friend of someone else’s? She and Calypso were friends, very close friends in fact. But that was because they’ve been with each other for a long time and in that time, they’ve gotten to know each other quite well.

She probably didn’t realize it at first, but her expression grew more and more thoughtful as she pondered the schematics of friendship. At some point, she must’ve realized how she looked and an embarrassed blush appeared on her cheeks as she laughed nervously once again.

“A-Ah, I-I suppose. Our paths happened to cross and traveling in numbers is usually safer. What about you?”

As Christopher waited for her answer, he too realized that time was starting to tick by. Blinking once or twice as a confused expression came over his face, he almost brought his hand up to snap slightly to get her attention; thankfully she snapped out of it herself. His response came much more quickly, as he brought both shoulders up in a shrug, bringing his hands out some before he dropped them down again.

”The Prince asked my teacher for some help and I got dragged along with the whole deal. Met on the way up to Gurata.”

“Gurata? Oh, so you’re part of the party that just came back.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.”

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to ask about what happened there. She had heard enough from the villagers on her way to the castle.

“Perhaps we’ll be traveling together soon.”

“Please don't tell me the Prince is already planning another... expedition. We just got back from the last one and I'm wary of these adventures since I got my throat slit.”

Her eyes widened right away.

“W-What?!”

“Er, uh- Exaggeration. You know how it is.” Christopher sometimes forgot that people weren't used to what could happen, especially to him.

She shook her head.

“A-Actually, I don’t…”

“… Er. Anyway.” Better to just move on, at this point.

“Um, r-right…” Really, it was hard to move on when images of whatever horrors her new acquaintance was talking about filled her mind.

Almost desperately Christopher tried to think of a way to change the subject, before finally saying: “So, you're from Barcea then, right?”

The question was enough to clear her mind of horrific images. She nodded and smiled.

“Yes! I live in a small village in the mountains.”

“East or north?”

“East!”

"Ah, I see. I've lived in the mountains to the north of Barcea for the first part of my life with my mom, before she sent me off with the Paladin.”

“Wow, you must’ve seen quite a bit in your travels. This is the farthest I’ve ever traveled, really.”

And then she blinked as something occurred to her.

“W-Wait, did you say the Paladin? A-As in the Divine Paladin?”

Slowly Christopher blinked, before reaching back to rub the back of his head some, looking away. Clearly, he wanted to come up with a way to steer the conversation away again, but just sighed before saying, “Yeah, the Divine Paladin. He's my teacher, has been for the past few years.”

Her eyes were wide with amazement. Clearly, she had bumped into a very special person. She almost wondered why she ended up in the company of the royals, especially since she didn’t have much to offer except her tarot cards.

And, she supposed, the knowledge that had been given to her by Lady Renata. But she wasn’t going to mention that. At least, she didn’t think she was supposed to mention that.

“W-Wow, that’s amazing! I’m sure you’ve learned so much from him!”

"Uh... Yeah. Sure. I guess you could say that.” Once again, Christopher's hand came up to rub the back of his head before dropping again. “Anyway.”

She blinked, unsure as to why he suddenly dropped the conversation. She bit her lip slightly, also unsure as how to continue.

Christopher was at just as much of a loss as she was, silent for a moment as he thought... and then, quite suddenly, everything came out in a rush. “Yeah, the Paladin has taught me a few things, but some of it I just don't care about. I know the Divines exist, sure, that's great, but that doesn't mean I worship them. There's only so much more of this religious mumbo jumbo I can take before I probably go drown myself in a river.”

She blinked again and laughed a little. It was certainly a new take on religion, that’s for sure.

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t enjoy the village I come from, then. They’re all very…superstitious and religious.”

“Ugh.” Christopher just looked up slightly, exasperated. “Kill me now.”

Etsuko immediately shook her head violently, not understanding that he was exaggerating.

“N-No, I-I can’t do that! W-We just met!”

Quickly, he brought both hands up, shaking his head quickly. “No, no, I'm not being serious- it's just an expression-!”

“O-Oh! I-I…ahaha, s-sorry, um…”

"It's okay, it's okay.” Christopher gave a sigh, shaking his head. ”Sorry to throw that at you suddenly.”

“N-No, it’s okay, I just misunderstood…”

"Okay, so we've established it's okay. Let's just... move on from it then.”

She nodded.

“Right. Um…er, were you headed anywhere in particular?”

"Er, no. Actually just.... avoiding the Paladin….”

“Oh! Er…any…particular reason why you’re avoiding him?”

"Same reasons I told you before.”

She laughed again and finally looked ahead, noticing a fork in the hallway.

“Well, I wish you all the best of luck in avoiding. I hope we see each other soon!”

He gave a slight nod, taking a few steps to the side as they approached the fork. “Sure thing. Talk to you later, Etsuko.”

Tink!

Vesta had been at it since early in the afternoon; now the sun was setting on the castle’s courtyard. She had intended to be at it since this morning, but for some reason or another she had spent most of the hours before noon searching for her misplaced quiver. It was, of course, hanging from her belt, and before her mind drew together on what had happened she once again walked into Drosil’s shades and found herself on another quest to find her missing quiver. By the time the man was done with the courtyard Vesta was convinced that she was still drunk from last night, although according to her memory she had not had a sip of alcohol since her fight. She convinced herself it had been a blackout despite the lack of any kind of hangover.

Tink!

The arrow soared past the target and smacked against a stone pillar. Vesta sighed; her aim was still off, getting worse even. She flicked another arrow out of her quiver, nocked it across her bowstring, and drew it back once more. She narrowed her eyes and tried to control her breathing, counting the beats silently in her head in hopes that it would distract her from the shake in her hands. With a drink she could easily steady her nerves. Hell, after a drink or two she was a good enough shot that it had won her more than her fair share of bar bets. The only problem was that it didn’t stop with a drink or two.

Tink!

Another miss. Her fight with Oubera had taught her something: she was as weak as a rusted blade. She had been too soft on herself. Years ago she would have won her duel within mere seconds, now she had barely beaten her opponent. She had been letting herself go for too many years. Too many years of picking on the weak, of using her sharpened tongue in place of her dulling blade, and of blaming an injury for her incapabilities. By now all she had were her reflexes, and even those were below her standards. She limped over to the target to pick up arrows, refusing to allow herself to use her sword as a crutch despite the flares of pain.

Still she grimaced with each step. Vesta’s eyes lingered down to the flask on her hip. Just a little bit of burn on her lips would be enough to distract her from the pain, surely. But now that the Sentinels were gone she knew it’d also distract her from the dangerous hostel that the castle had turned itself into thanks to the Prince’s haphazard recruiting methods of grabbing anyone with uncertain motives and unnatural abilities. She had tried to warn Cyril that he was rushing down a dangerous path, yet instead of pulling back on the reigns he had spurred on faster and faster as he rushed headlong towards a sheer cliff drop into a pit of vipers

Vesta held the arrows in her hand instead of her quiver to allow faster firing in one smooth motion as she made it back to the opposite side of the courtyard. She drew back her bow. When the person she felt less threatened by was a politician then she knew there was a problem. There were the gladiators from Gurata who had fought alongside that demonic lady. Thunk! The changeling magician who consorted too much with magic and monsters for her comfort. Thunk! The zealous, self-proclaimed “Divine” paladin and his undying protege. When you cut a man’s throat that was supposed to be the end. Thunk! The fucking Gifted who had Thunk! been allied with the bastard who Thunk! had wounded Olain and pushed him to his end. Thunk!

Would I be able to stop even one of them if their intents proved to be ill?

Not if she kept wasting her damn time. A fine sheen of sweat was on her face as she tore her flask off of her belt and lobbed it up high in the air. Within the blink of an eye she had nocked her final arrow and fired it at the flask as it began its descent. The arrow arced just barely above the flask, losing itself in a shrub as the flask clanked, unharmed aside from a small scuff, against the ground. Clicking her tongue, Vesta turned on her heels and strolled away from the container despite knowing damn well that it’d be back on her belt, emptied, by the end of the day.

It wasn't quite home, but Ennis generally felt comfortable in Barcea's castle. Within those walls he didn't have to ride a horse for an entire day and he didn't have to deal with sleeping on beds stuffed with hay and food made from bones and little else. Today, however, a certain eager nervousness had consumed the ambassador. A letter had been waiting for him at his loft above the flower shop when he had returned briefly to take a bath and change into a nicer set of clothes. It was from Nia, informing him that she had been able to secret away his family away from Gartian and that they were now safely in the care of his father. The happy news was shattered quickly by the time he reached the end of the letter, however. It seemed that his home country was no longer fine with bloodying a few noses and then heading back across the border. However, according to Nia his father had yet to mobilize his troops and that had given Ennis an idea.

Which was the real reason why he was nervous. The room behind the throne was decorated in the traditional and simple blues and whites of the rest of the castle, with only a small wooden table and a few comfortable chairs furnishing the place, but it had a heavy air of importance to it. This was where all of the real decisions were made, out of the earshot of gossips and spies. Ennis had never been in the room before—there was no need for an enemy ambassador to be involved in internal policy for starters, and he also believed the other councilmen did not trust him—but he had been invited personally by the Queen after sending her a request for a private conversation. To him, it was a pretty big deal. Ennis had arrived early. Really early. He paced back and forth behind the small table, his hat clasped in his hands behind his back as his boots threatened to dig themselves into the floor from all of the walking.

He could hear footsteps echoing throughout the large throne room beyond the door: the Queen, surely. Ennis quickly fixed his hair, smoothed his eyebrows, and forced himself to stand the hell still. A small, unworried smile was on his face as Kori stepped through the threshold; the smile dipped just barely as the ambassador saw Cyril behind her. He bowed his head slightly.

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness," he said, gesturing towards the table with his hands. "I'll try to keep this brief. Please, have a seat."

The Queen returned Ennis' smile with her usual grace as she entered, but all the Ambassador got from Cyril was a slight nod. With Kori at the lead the two moved into the room, having already been heading towards the seats even before the ambassador made the suggestion. The Queen sat at the chair at the end of the table, while the Prince sat down at the one next to it. For the moment, Cyril seemed distracted, as if his mind were somewhere else as he remained in his own thoughts, but the focus of the Queen was entirely upon Ennis as she continued to smile.

"What is it, Ennis?"

"I received a letter from a friend," he started. The ambassador did not join the two at the table, deciding to remain standing instead. He pulled Nia's letter out from his tunic and set it on the table, propping himself against it with his hands. "My friend's a soldier in the H'kelan army. She's probably with Gartian's forces right now waiting to begin their march across the border as we speak, but I am sure you two are already quite conscious of the H'kelans field movements and I did not call you here to tell you what you already know." He straightened his collar. "What you may not know is that my father's forces are absent from Gartian's army. The Kirun's soldiers are only of the highest caliber; they are like a fine sword tempered by the masterful blacksmith. Without them Gartian's army is significantly weaker, yet still very much a threat to your country's well-being. I mean no offense when I say it, but from my travels with your brother I can sadly say that your citizens are not as prepared for war as I had thought them to be."

He held out his hand in protest, certain that Cyril would try and bark some patriotic nonsense at him.

"However, I am not here to criticize your people. They have been lucky enough to spend years in peace, whereas mine do not even know what that word means. I've lived here for almost a year. It would absolutely crush me to see any more harm come to these good people." Even if they were a bunch of backwater farmers and dimwits. Ennis didn't add that part in. "Your Sentinels, Cyril, are strong, but there are only a few of them. You need more help. The Guratans are not enough; what they have in strength they lack in tactics and discipline. I am not saying that your forces are going to lose, no, but I am saying that at this moment any victory would be Pyrrhic. I think, however, that I can be of some service. I can make it so that victory is certain."

The ambassador took a step back from the table and looked at Kori. "I'd like to propose an allegiance between our two families. Would you like me to continue?"

Perhaps to the ambassador's surprise, no response came from Cyril when expected; the Prince remained quite calm, and it seemed that what Ennis had to say drew him back to earth, and into the conversation. He was listening carefully, his face grave; though Ennis may have had a habit of talking too much, there were times when he was right, and this was one of them. Still, though, the fact that the Kirun's forces weren't yet a part of Gartian's was a good sign...

The Queen, meanwhile, had to only think for a moment. She gave a slight nod, still smiling gently at Ennis. "I see no harm in hearing what you have to say. Please, continue Ennis, and let us know what you have in mind."

Ennis joined the two at the table.

"I will go to the Kirun and convince my father to march his men against Gartian. He's stubborn, my father, and it will take some effort to make him budge, but I believe he cares too much about his countrymen to see it fall to ruin under some Rabid King. If you swear to me that no reparations would be demanded of the H'kelans and no lands will be annexed once we dispose of Gartian then I am certain I will be able to convince him to act in our favor," he said. "Then, our two countries can try and see if they can live together in peace for a change."

He folded his arms over his chest and smiled, looking towards Cyril. "Of course, I imagine I'd need an escort across the border." He turned back to Kori and said, "But that's only if this idea pleases you, Your Majesty."

"I would like nothing more." Kori said, giving a nod. "You have my word, so long as the next ruler of H'kela doesn't try to continue Gartian's ambitions. That is something I fear almost more than Gartian himself."

Cyril, meanwhile, had brought a hand up to rest on his chin, as he thought it over. "It's too late for you to leave today, not safely. Tomorrow I'll have someone take you to the border, and send a message with you; I'll have you meet up with the Sentinels, and Alasa in particular. If anyone can get you safely over the border and protect you to the Kirun, it'll be him."

"Of course, of course," said Ennis, pleased by how willing the two were to listen to his suggestion. He was less pleased by the idea that he would be setting off the very next day after just getting back, but he knew that time was of the essence. His father would only be able to delay for so long before he was forced to send Gartian some of his troops. Already the ambassador was planning a solution to Kori's concerns, but decided not to speak on it. Ennis pushed himself up from the table, forcing himself to keep his smile on his face from becoming too wide.

"I thank you for your cooperation. And I can assure you, Your Majesty, that nobody would be foolish enough to follow in Gartian's footsteps," he said, nodding to the pair. "I shall take my leave, then, and prepare for tomorrow's journey."

"Prepare well, Ennis." The Queen said this as she stood up, and Cyril did the same. Once more, the Prince gave a nod before he turned to walk out, back in his own thoughts again. The Queen, meanwhile, gave him another smile, before turning to begin slowly walking out.

The Capitol of Barcea

The day passed, and the next one came. To begin with, it would seem like it would be another quiet day where rest could be gained... But that didn't last very long.

A messenger arrived from the border, with a panicked look in his eyes. He was very tired, having clearly ridden nonstop for several hours. When he entered the castle Cyril spotted him, and the eyes of the Prince narrowed. A chill went down his back as he immediately realized this meant trouble. Quickly he gave orders to nearby servants, gathering those in the castle under his wing, which meant Ayano followed her way along as well. They were called so that they could arrive just in time for the messenger to almost collapse into a kneeling position in front of the Queen, who began to rise from her throne even before he began to speak.

"Your Highness! H'kela is gathering in force at the border, at the Great Cracks! Gartian is there himself! He says that if you do not meet him there within the day, he will overrun the border!" The words from the messenger came out in a tumble, even as he gasped for air. He was caked in mud and dirt, drenched with sweat.

The Queen was silent for a moment, having settled back into her throne. Slowly Kori closed her eyes, before she sighed gently and began to stand. "Then I suppose I don't have a choice. I will go to the border, and meet with Gartian. I must try to resolve this peacefully."

"No, Kori!" Cyril stepped forward then, throwing his hand out to the side. "It’s clearly a trap! Gartian means to draw you out and kill you!"

Kori gave her brother a gentle smile, slowly nodding. "I know this, Cyril... And yet, as I said, I have no choice. I cannot abandon the border to such a terrible fate; not the soldiers, not the people who live there, and not your Sentinels. I must go."

Cyril's hand clenched, as did his teeth. After a moment of relaxing himself, he said, "Then I have no choice but to come with you. We'll meet the Sentinels beforehand, and go to the meeting together."

Kori gave another nod. "Very well then, Cyril. Please, quickly get ready; we don't have much time."

Preparations were quickly completed; after all, they barely had any time to actually make it to the border before Gartian would carry out his threat. The group gathered, mounted up, and with both Kori and Cyril at the lead began to make their way out of the Capitol. As much as Etsuko didn't like seeing the Queen herself being put in a dangerous position, there wasn't much she could do about it. She turned to Calypso and gave her a slightly strained smile, as she told her tall friend that she should go with them.

"You'll do more good with them than with me. I'll be alright, I promise."

At first Calypso had blinked at what Etsuko said, as if not quite understanding her. Her eyes then widened slightly, even if her smile didn't fade in the slightest, and then she tilted her head curiously to the side.

"Are you sure...~?"

Etsuko nodded, her strained smile growing ever so slightly.

"I'm sure."

For a moment, Calypso was silent before she nodded, giving a slight bounce as she did so. "Alright then, if you say so...~"

Ayano was left behind for this trip, so she made sure they could hear her farewells, well wishes, and good lucks almost all the way to the inner wall. Etsuko accompanied Ayano and said her goodbyes and good lucks as well, making a point to hug Calypso tightly and tell her quietly, "Come back safely, okay?"

Once more Calypso was surprised by the hug even if she shouldn't have been, actually jumping slightly and giving a slight gasp, as if Etsuko had squeezed the breath out of her. Smiling more, the tall girl simply gave the Diviner a few pats on the head, beaming down at her.

"You just don't get in any trouble while I'm gone...~"

When the group passed through the city and it was apparent to the citizens that the Queen was out again, the people quickly gathered, but for once Kori paid little attention to her citizens as the group pushed through. This fact, combined with the realization that the Queen was leaving the Capitol entirely, meant that the usually smiling faces of the people were instead concerned and fearful. The Queen could do little to try and dissuade these concerns, the most she had the time to do being waving before the actually exited through the outer walls.

The Barcean-H’kelan Border – The Great Cracks

It took almost the entire day to actually reach the border between Barcea and H'kela, the sun beginning to set in front of them as they approached the region. Known as the Great Cracks, the land here was physically broken with sudden upheavals and splits, as if an axe of a size beyond true comprehension had fallen from above to cleave the land multiple times, leaving a shattered mess behind.

On the Barcea side of the Great Cracks several forts had been erected long ago for the previous wars with their neighbor, and the greatest of these they passed through and found the Sentinels. Waiting and ready on their horses already, they simply joined the train with the rest of them, Alasa going to ride directly beside Cyril for a few moments as he spoke directly to the Prince and the Queen:

"Gartian is still waiting, but we don't have much time. I've got forces stationed on the side of the Cracks, but if he surges through then we won't last long."

"Then we simply can't let him move forward through the Cracks." The Queen said rather calmly despite the situation. "If he is still waiting for us, then I will meet him there. Keep the soldiers where they are to keep an escape route open, but we'll try to settle this in the narrower pass than in our fields."

With the orders given, they proceeded into the Great Cracks. The valley they entered from zig-zagged back and forth on its path towards the largest center split, the official border between the two nations. Several canyons and valleys led to this split, and all were quiet as they made their slow, cautious approach...

When they entered the split they could see just how long of a space it was, with half of the entrances and exits on the Barcean side and half on the H'kelan side. They could also see just how many people were waiting for them; dozens of soldiers dressed in yellow were waiting on the H'kelan side just within the split itself, with no telling how many were behind them beyond the Great Cracks.

There were two who stood at the top of the lip of the split up above. One of them was female. She was dressed in very dark robes and had a black mask that covered the lower half of her face (from her nose down), with vibrantly pale eyes and blonde hair. She didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, but her presence was extremely powerful, those sensitive to magic and the unnatural able to sense it easier; like a cold looming dark, a gaping set of jaws waiting to snap just out of sight.

The man on the other hand was dressed in obvious royal clothes and armor of silver and yellow, with a golden crown upon his head. His hair was a deep red with his skin tanned and smooth, and on his face was a look of pure contempt with a terrible gleam of manic glee in his eyes, pulled together with a wicked smirk on his face. As the Sentinels came to a stop, he spoke, his voice loud and piercing:

"What's this then? The Queen of Barcea herself actually came, in all her glory? And look at this, she brings some of her so-called elite soldiers with her! What a terrible threat, I'm positively quivering in my boots, bwahahahahahahah!"

Kori ignored the abrasive laugh, the blatant hypocrisy, and the clear taunting as she remained calm, expression neutral as she said, "King Gartian, I've come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us, and to resolve it peacefully."

"The truth? Well that is a simple matter." This was the woman, whose voice cut through the air despite how 'gentle' it seemed. As she spoke, one hand and arm came up, sort of drawn across the front of her mask.

"Perhaps we might know who you are, first?"

"You may simply refer to me as the Advisor."

"I see..." The Queen said quietly. "So then, as you were saying?"

"Mmm, yes. We're here to demand payment for the lives of King Gartian's men taken by the Barceans a few days ago. After all, it's terrible manners to kill friendly soldiers trying to help villages beset by the worst bandit attack seen in years..." Everyone knew that what the Advisor said was a lie, even if she spoke in complete confidence. Even Queen Kori straightened in her seat slightly, but it was the Prince who responded directly to that statement, and he did so loudly as he threw his hand out to the side.

"That's a bald-faced lie! H'kela attacked multiple Barcean villages and razed them to the ground! I saw the aftermath myself, and was attacked by your soldiers that laid in wait!"

"Oh my, is that what you think?" As the Advisor spoke the hand in front of her face turned to cover her mouth, in mock shock. "How rude of you, Prince. Such bold accusations…"

The Mad King sneered. "Such a violent temper speaks to your guilt, pup! This will call for a weighty punishment. My dear Danmun! It would take an act of CONSIDERABLE good faith to make up for this slight, hah! But even with such tensions between us, I'll be unable to keep myself from weeping openly about your poor people, hah! What a terrible way to go, burned alive!"

Cyril snarled, about to shout something else, but he immediately stopped when Kori brought her hand up, gently placing it on his shoulder. "Peace, Cyril. King Gartian, surely we can sort this out without such unpleasantness, and such loud displays of force."

"Without even a little, itty bitty sorry? Then why the hell would I meet with you at all? I'm within my rights to have the heads of those who killed our soldiers this instant and be on my way home with time to have them cleaned to drink from!"

"You bastard!" Cyril snarled-

"Really, my dear Queen, control your puppy before someone gets hurt. I’m not against kicking them." In response to the taunt by the King, Cyril ground his teeth, but Gartian continued on without paying the Prince any mind, focused on Kori. "Now then, you royal blueness, perhaps we can arrange a trade? You give me the Gift, and I let you all leave without anyone getting hurt, that sound fair?" If the air wasn't tense before, upon the mention of the Gift things became so much worse as Kori slowly inhaled, and out of the corner of his eye Damon looked over to her.

Slowly, Kori's hand came up to her own chest, where it stopped just above her breasts, fingers curled in so they lightly rested on where her sternum was. "... Never." For once, she spoke with authority unsullied by gentleness. With that, she looked up to Gartian. "You would ask for Barcea's royal treasure? But why?"

"Because I know the tale my dear! I know where it came from! A Gift from the Divines themselves, one that changes to suits the user's needs! I have desired it for years, you know. YEARS! And yet, every year, my birthday and even holidays come and go with nothing from Barcea. You even stopped sending the bloodshed as of late your father made a tradition of, and that's all I looked forward to, heh heh..."

"The Gift's power is not meant for petty acts, King Gartian. It is meant to be used for the greatest of responsibilities. Do you have even the slightest of noble wishes to use it for?"

"I want what every good, patriotic H'kelan wants, my dear... A GRISLY END FOR EVERY LAST BARCEAN, AND THEIR ROYAL FAMILY’S HEADS ON PIKES. WHAT COULD BE NOBLER THAN THAT?!” As Gartian’s voice rose, flecks of saliva flew freely as he snarled. “Surely you have not forgotten what the last Barcean King did to our people? Your father named us heathens, demanded we worship Ambrosia instead of Danmun! His 'crusade' across H'kelan butchered countless of my subjects and my kin, brought suffering to our people and exhausted our resources!"

For a moment Kori was silent as she looked down, but soon enough she looked back up to the King of H'kela. "... I have never denied Barcea's past wrongdoings. There were many, and we all know that. But I have sworn to never repeat those mistakes. Ours is now a realm of peace."

"YOURS IS NOW A HAVEN OF PRIDEFUL HYPOCRISY, AND YOU'RE AN EYESORE AND A SOURCE OF A PERPETUAL MIGRAINE! NOW GIVE ME THE GIFT!"

"I refuse, Gartian. It is not yours to have-"

"Uuuuuugh.... Taaaaalk talk-talk-talk-talk-TALK! Fine, if you’re going to be so stubborn!” Gartian thrust his hand forwards, the insane gleam in his eyes brightening. “It’s time to return to your home, Ambassador Cade! I’m afraid that it will be no longer safe in Barcea any longer for you, and your family would be absolutely distraught if I let you go now to your death, they might just die!”

Ennis lowered his head as eyes began to turn to him. A braver yet more foolish man would have called out the mad King, martyring himself for what he believed to be right. Ennis, however, knew Gartian enough to be able to visual the consequences that would befall his kin if he began showing his backbone now. Likewise, if he showed his hand now his plans of recruiting his father's men to his cause would be blown away like dust in the wind. He knew he didn't really have an option (not until he had words with his father, at the very least), but still the idea of jumping at Gartian's call like a lap dog did not sit well with him. After a few quiet seconds the Ambassador nodded, gave a knowing smile to Kori, and began heading towards the other side. All in all, it wasn't quite the escort he wanted, but it would do the trick.

Something hit him in the back of the knee and he stumbled to his knees, a strong arm wrapping around his body as something cold pricked against his neck. An angered voice growled into his ears as the knife threatened to slice his jugular: "Now where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Vesta, I think it would be best if you just—"

She locked her knife arm around his neck, cutting off his ability to speak.

"No, I think it'd be best if we no longer hear what you have to say," she said, taking her knife in her other hand and waving it in front of his face. Her voice whispered hot on his ear. "If that bastard wants to kill us all, I see no reason why we should act any differently. The Queen would be too busy to read any postmortem letters from an enemy, anyway."

"Cyril," said Vesta, jerking her body so that she could look back at the Prince with hard, gray eyes. Her voice was hushed and low so that only those close to her could hear. "This man knows too much about the state of our forces. If we let him cross the border he will surely feed any information we have to that bastard. All of our advantages will be lost. It'd be better for us if he was a bargaining chip," she said, "or a corpse."

This damn woman is going to ruin everything, thought Ennis as he grunted in pain, his eyes darting around for some sign of help.

"Another snapping dog?! My Danmun, and I'm the one who is supposed to be rabid!" King Gartian cackled, finding nothing more than delight in what was happening below. On the other hand Cyril grit his teeth, eyes narrowing. What Vesta said made sense, so if he said anything against it then it would be too obvious-

Kori was the one who came to the rescue, bringing up her hand and holding it out to the side, across Cyril's chest, as if to keep him from speaking. Her gaze was firm, looking into Vesta's eyes without the slightest tremor. "Just because it is their way does not mean it is our way, Vesta. Not anymore. Let him go, and return to his family. I will not be responsible for murder, even if it may lead to war."

"Gah, how boring!" Gartian groaned loudly.

Vesta's eyes narrowed. Whatever the woman was actually thinking was impossible to read as she looked from Cyril to Kori, but it was clear enough from her hesitation that Vesta was at least considering her options. The knife did not move from Ennis's neck. However, after a few seconds that felt like all of eternity the former Captain's glare softened into a seemingly sad, almost pained look.

"Of course, Your Majesty," said Vesta with slumped shoulders.

Biting her lip, Vesta let go of Ennis and pushed him forward with a light, almost gentle shove. The ambassador sputtered out another cough before regaining his composure and smoothing his clothes that had been roughed up. Vesta watched with a sour look on her face as the man began to amble towards the horde of H'kelan soldiers. Crossing her arms, Vesta stepped back towards Kori and lowered her voice.

"I fear we may one day end up regretting that decision," she said. "Assuming we even make it that long."

"I understand, Vesta." The Queen responded quietly, giving a nod. "If that be the case, then you have every right to point out my mistake." Ahead, the H'kelan soldiers parted slightly as the ambassador approached... And then, suddenly, Gartian gave a sharp wave of his hand. Several soldiers suddenly collapsed on Ennis, grabbing him by the arms and rushing him away speedily, the sudden movements making Cyril snarl in anticipation and Kori inhale sharply as she looked back up to Gartian.

“Now then, it's time to speak louder than words! This negotiation is over, your royal sapphireness! I'll have the Gift if I have to pry it from your dead hands!" With another snap of his fingers, the Rabid King's men moved forwards quickly, and more swarmed from where they had been hiding out of sight, among the splits and cracks. At the forefront of this swarm were archers, and even as Cyril yelled in alarm a hail of arrows were sent forwards, direct at them and the horses, with most of them aimed for the Queen and Prince themselves.

In that split second, many moved. Even as Sampson brought up his shield to protect Diane, there were those who had the ability to protect larger portions of the group all at once. Joachim was one of those, suddenly running from left to right across the front of half the group. In that movement he drew his blade in one swing, and across the front of that portion of the group a deeply purple and black flare burst into existence; the arrows that struck it dissolved away into nothing as he came to a stop, sheathing his blade once again.

On the other side, one of the louder yells came from Christopher, but rather than being one of fear it was one of action. He leapt from his horse, and as he came down onto the ground he brought his fists down onto it with an earth shattering blow. Electricity crackled and exploded down, and the very earth itself trembled as a shower of rock and dirty flew high up into the air, his horse skittering back and away in fear. Though this method wasn’t full proof to block every arrow, unlike Joachim’s, it was enough to thin the swarm so that those defending actually had a chance to survive. It allowed individuals like Alasa a chance to actually duck out of the way, or Calypso to use her knives in deft movements to deflect arrows away.

The two major moves of defense against the volley did not cover the Queen or Prince, but that was because the Divine Paladin had already been moving to in front of them. Throwing his arms out to the side in front of them, the Paladin was able to use his own body to shield both of the royals; every arrow meant for them, he took instead. His body shook with each impact, well over a dozen arrows piercing him. They filled his chest, covered his arms, and even stuck through his head, his dark robes being stained with blood even as he stood there.

For a moment, he remained standing, and then he fell to his knees. Slowly his head tilted upwards, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he crumbled backwards, falling back onto his own legs as his arms splayed out. Up above, Gartian began to laugh wildly, pointing as he did so and holding his gut.

“LOOK AT THAT! SEEMS THE DIVINES NO LONGER SMILE UPON THAT SOLDIER-“

He then went silent as the massive man suddenly lunged upwards, back to his feet. Even full of arrows the Divine Paladin grinned, holding his hands out to either side. Slowly but surely, the arrows snapped from his body, before the heads were pushed out by his very flesh as it stitched itself back together. Looking upwards once again, Damon Dubois proclaimed loudly, “Praise be to the Divines in their infinite wisdom. Pray to whichever one ye like for mercy, be it Danmun or otherwise, for I will give none.”

Gartian then continued roaring with laughter, clapping as he did so. Even as he laughed he turned, beginning to walk out of sight as the Advisor turned to follow.

Down below, the Barcean side exploded into movement. Even as Alasa rushed forwards to escort the Queen back and out of harm’s way, Cyril drew his blade and thrust it forwards, shouting, “CHARGE! DON’T LET THE ARCHERS FIRE AGAIN!”

Joachim was the fastest, closing the distance with the H'kelans in a flash. Though many of the heavier armored soldiers attempted to form a defensive line in front of the archers, he slipped through the closing gap and was upon the archers. Drawing his blade with one fluid motion, he spun back and forth, no one safe as he continued dashing back and forth. Soldiers began to scream as they were cut and knocked back, but their screams never stopped as not a life was taken, even as more soldiers threw themselves at him only to be cut back again.

The sparing of life was ended as the Direwolf was the second to close the gap, leaping from his horse and to the ground. In the time it took for him to draw his blade and take his stance, those at the front of the H'kelan line were able to close the gap and have their heavy shields raised. It was enough to make Alsius smirk, and the smirk remained even as he charged forwards, thrust, and simply stabbed through the first shield in front of him, sending cracks blossoming through it before it simply shattered and his blade struck true into the soldier's heart. From there, he continued on forwards into the thick of them, shattering the line.

Even as the H'kelans struggled to deal with the both Joachim and Alsius, others surged past them to begin closing the distance with the rest of the Barceans in return. However, Damon was already stepping forwards, and in between his fingers he held long, thin knives which he flung forwards, each finding their mark in some sort of gap in armor. His hands then went down, and from his sleeves two heavy hammers dropped into his grip. The one in his right was black, while the one in his left was right, and he brought them both up and out to the side as the soldiers fell upon him.

"PRAISE THE DIVINES IN YER DYING BREATH, SO THAT THEY MAY LOOK UPON YE IN FAVOR AFTER LIFE." The moment he had finished shouting this, the black hammer crashed down upon the first head, crushing it and the armor around it with ease. The white one was then swung to the side, crashing into one man to fling him into another, sending both crumpling. Even as Damon landed these hits, other H'kelans carved into him with their weapons, the Paladin's blood flying freely, but the man only grinned and laughed as he continued on his culling.

Though these three may have had the ability to move separately from the others, the Sentinels stuck together and worked as a unit. Sampson and Gortul led the way, both riding on horseback for as long as they could and using the advantage of height against their enemies before they were finally able to leap from their mounts and send them retreating back down the split. Sampson took the lead, his shield up and blocking blows as he simply crashed through, often using his shield to bash as much as his sword to cut. Gortul was right with him, swinging his axe back and forth to cut down those who still stood after Sampson cleared the path. Diane remained behind as the healer, but she was still active, often shouting to both Sampson and Gortul, who listened even through the battle for her warnings.

With his horse long gone, Christopher swore once before he ran forwards as well, fists at the ready. Using his forearms to block against the first blade swung against him, the sword bouncing from his gauntlets with nasty sparks of electricity, he then brought his fist into the stomach of the man who had attacked him, crumpling the armor and sending electricity crackling through the man, which was more than enough to cause him to drop. From there he moved to the next, actually ducking to the side to avoid the overhead blow from the war hammer before striking out, both shattering the handle of the weapon being used against him and several of the man's ribs.

As Christopher proceeded forwards with his clunky crushing, Calypso was almost the opposite. She leapt down from Sir Mauls-a-lot, rolling against the ground before springing up and dashing forwards. With her two largest knives drawn she spun into the thickest group of H'kelans near her, and soon ribbons of blood were spinning through the air as she carved into whatever flesh she could find. Even as more than a little bit of her victims splattered over her the strange woman continued to smile, and though it seemed calm being matched with the blood began to make it seem utterly manic.

The Prince was not one to be left behind, but he remained on his horse as he approached the H'kelans, and even as he began to hack away at them. Though he was more than focused on what was immediately going on around him, especially as he quickly reacted to nearby threats, but he also had his mind turned to the battle as a whole. He knew that Gartian had forces waiting beyond the Cracks, and if they surged into the canyons they wouldn't survive for long... So, his intent was to break the H'kelans in front of them and send them retreating, so that the Prince could lead his own forces to his waiting armies.

The next few minutes would be what mattered the most.

Shadar didn't know what he expected from Gartian, but what he got was laughably pathetic in both demeanor and general attitude, and the only reason he didn't break out into laughter was due to this being a diplomatic mission. Yeah, this is how I'm used to my nobles. Prideful vagrants who only care about what they want. Glad to see that Jasi isn't alone in having some fucked up nobility.

Shadar's enjoyment of the moment disappeared the moment that the mad king mad his intentions clear after the strange woman by him, almost drenched in n ominous and powerful magical taint, tried to pass of a ridiculous lie, clearly an excuse for what he was about to do, which was murder the Barcean royalty and lead the two countries into a war, all for some damned artifact that the queen apparently possessed.

Well then, at least now I can do something besides acting like a lawn ornament.

Shadar cracked his knuckles, leaving it to the others to block out the majority of the barrage of arrows, those that got through we easily avoided or deflected by his armor. Drawing one of his shortswords, he spoke in a low tone as he cast magic upon himself, his form seeming to gain a much more menacing feeling, shadows seeming to form a miasma of death and fear around him as he let out a load roar. Charging forward with the rest of the group, he met the enemy with a savage punch, putting his full strength into it and easily causing the first soldier he cam across to crumble as he took the blow to the head, his hem splitting from the force of it as his head practically burst open like a gore filled ballon, painting his comrades behind with specks of red all over them. Fearful, yet resolute, 5 men charged forward, their shields up and their formation tight as they faced the shadowy demon that the Barceans had brought with them. It was a good tactic, but matter little, as one of the men in front suddenly found himself being knocked over to the ground, Sir Mauls having joined the fray in order to assist the group in their assault. Grabbing the downed man, the death crawler pulled him away from the battle as Shadar charged forward to meet the men that had been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the monstrous insect, the cries of their comrade being quickly silenced as Sir Mauls effectively and gruesomely decapitated him with it's large pincers, a slimy tongue darting out to lick up the blood that had stained it's mandibles.

Not that the H'kelans had the luxury of witnessing this act, as they were to busy attempting to face off against Shadar. The first man found his head grasped by Shadar as punishment for turning his attention away from the dark titan, the pain soon taken away by the sweet release of death as Shadar stabbed his blade through the man's throat, drawing it out just as quickly as he charged forward ever more, using the corpse to defend himself from a sword coming from his right, quickly pushign them back bef ore swinging the body around to smack into another attack, sending him tumbling to the ground. Shadar suddenly feel a dull pain from his side, turning to see that the third soldier had tried to strike at his side, but has blade had barely scratched Shadar's exo-skeleton. Before the man could get out of range, he found his arm grasped by the hulking figure, the pressure so tight that it caused his bones to creak.

For a moment, the sounds of battle faded away as the man looked up, eyes wide with terror, at the glowing white eys of the monster before, hoping to find a shred of humanity in them. Shadar could feel intense regret coming from the man, as well as an intense longing to return home, to his family.

_{"Mercy . . . please,"} was all the man said, and for a moment, the man saw something change in the shadowy creature before him, a softening in it's presence, the intimidation he'd been feeling before seeming to lessen a bit. However, before he was given any spark of hope, the beast's gaze sharpened, his grip ever tighter than before as Shadar steeled his resolve.

"Sorry. . ." Was all he said as he stabbed the man through his chest, piercing his heart and ending his life as painlessly as possible. Turning around, he drew his other blade, turning to face the remaining two soldiers locked in battle with him, who seemed to have also lost a bit of their resolve to continue fighting, the fear on their faces causing the titan to grit his teeth in annoyance, but this unpleasant feeling did not give way to hesitation, as he struck out at both men, the clash of steel against steel as they blocked with their shields, though the strength of the hits being so great that they could hardly lift the shields again, their arms made numb by the impact. They were then quickly dispatched by two quick cuts across their throats, their bodies falling to the ground bonelessly as the life flowed out of them onto the cold ground.Turning around, he cursed to see that more men seemed to be closing in on him, about ten this time, armed with pikes and halberds to reach over the frontline while shieldbearers stepped forward, intending to hold the giant pack while their comrades jabbed him from afar. A decent strategy . . . put not one that would work, sadly.

Sheathing his shortswords, Shadar reached behind his back to pull out his creation, the ebon blade seeming to pulse with an anticipation for battle and blood that it's wielder clearly didn't share. There was a slight pause as the two sides readied themselves for battle, and then Shadar charged forward, letting out another roar, this one mixed with magic to infuse his presence and voice with monstrous levels of killing intent, inflicting a heightened sense of terror in the men just long enough for them to break formation, one of the men turning to try and run away. It was all the opening that the Divineborn needed, his blade finding it's purchase in the cowards back, running him and the man in front of him through, only for both of them to painfully slide off the blade as Shadar engaged in a harsh spin, knocking back all of the soldiers around him, either back aways or on their backs. The glistening black of his blade seemed to hungrily cling to the blood that so tainted it's stiff form, as the blood drops seemed slow to actually fall from the blade.

Without another word, Shadar drew a shortsword and finished off two of the men who had fallen on their backs before the others could retaliate, and when one of the men tried to attack him while he was doing so, he would be met only by a blade to the gut, followed by a short flight through the air as Shadar launched him bodily towards on of the spearmen that had thought to try and sneak on him from behind, before swinging his blade to intercept another attack by a spearman, his claymore making shortwork of the weapon as it sliced through it in one swing. He'd follow this up by enacting a savage stab through the man's man's chest, straight through the heart, before wrenching in it out to deal with the final three spearman and one shield bearer. They once again got information, and Shadar wasn't foolish enough to think the same trick would work again.

So, instead of charging forward in a mad rush, Shadar would instead cautiously circle the group, keeping their attention on him. Every now and then, he'd feint a lunge forward, causing them to back away in fear and ready their weapons in preparation. They were so focused in him, they never noticed Sir Mauls until it was too late, the giant centipede barreling into the vulnerable spearmen, gruesomely ending them through methods such as decapitation and stabbing them many times with his many, many pointed limbs. The swordsman was ended just as quickly, his head being removed from his body by Shadar in one smooth motion. As the two finished their prey, Sahadar turned to Sir Mauls, before surveying the battlefield.

". . . I want you to go help anyone who needs help, oka you stupid beast, and don't stay encaged with soldiers for too long though. Hit & Run tactics, keep them on their twos, understand?"

Shadar's commands were met by a nod by the beast as it went out to assist the Barceans. Meanwhile, the Titan would look down at his bloodstained hands for a moment, before turning around towards the battles still being waged. He has only one thing to say before he charged out into the fray.

"Why do I let Drosil drage into these things?"

Alice fought every urge to simply aim between the Mad King's eyes and pull the trigger. Every word spewing from that man's mouth only caused her to frown more and grip her holstered weapon on her hip tighter. As per her nature she only half listened to the insane man and ,instead, observed their surroundings. It took her a moment but a new location was very clear to her, making no move towards it until the fighting began-so that she would have her position hidden for as long as possible.

As the barrage of arrows rained down upon them Stark witnessed, first hand, the chaos of war. A blue spell circle came into existence as the water from her water packs began to move to her will. The water shot forth and created something of a bubbled barrier above herself and those surrounding her. It didn't destroy the arrows but it slowed them enough that they simply clattered to the ground, useless. She assessed the others and a scream stuck in her throat as Damon fell only to rise again. She was dazed for a moment before realizing that she too needed to act. The smaller girl dismounted her horse before focusing in on the target- the heavy armored front lines. She knew of her own weaknesses and knew that she'd have to think outside of the box for this one. She kept to the back lines for now as she struggled to figure out the most effective method of fighting.

An idea came to her just as one of them get limp and fell face first into the ground, red leaking from his helmet. A rather broad grin spread across Stark's face as her water soaked into the ground-rushing towards the enemy with speed and stealth. More heavy line soldiers were falling from a hidden sniper positioned between two sizable boulders just outside the immediate fight; Stark's brow came together as her magic surged. The water snaked up the legs of several heavy soldiers and made their way towards their arms and hands. Extending her arms outward her water pushed out from under the armor- breaking it off of the soldiers bodies and clattering to the floor. She'd made the perfect chance to take out the enemy.

When the initial fighting broke out she'd been graced by good luck to be in the cover zone behind Christopher. As soon as she could she'd dismounted the horse, quick firing into the enemy as much as she could without hitting her fellow fighters. She'd gone to the position she spotted earlier- taking cover behind rocks as she took off the heavy box she always carried on her back. With trained quickness a long range sniper rifle was pieced together and ready to go.

"Good girl." Alice calmly stated as Stark made an opening for her- more targets between her cross hairs. A green spell circle glowed gently at the muzzle of the sniper rifle and in the scopes sights. Those that were now scrambling to piece on at least some of their armor in the view. With a calm exhale her finger pulled the trigger. Several bullets passed through the skulls of the enemy at once- all of them crumpling as Alice pulled the now empty clip of enchanted bullets- replacing it with a set of standard bullets. She shifted her aim a bit to the rear of the enemy. Her goal? Killing off as many as she could manage so that the enemy would panic when they realized they were "being attacked from behind". Thus, she set to work in killing as many as she could as quickly as she could.

Stark advanced forward with a new idea as the girl realized Alice had shifted targets. Thanks to the hole she'd made it was easy to get into the ranks and go to work. She pushed the thoughts and fears from her mind and simply battled; using her smaller size and speed to her advantage as water enveloped two soldier’s heads. Her open palmed hands curled into fists and down the soldiers went in red bloody messes.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end a split second before she turned around. Expecting an enemy she instead saw Sir Maul’s on top of an enemy, quite literally eating his face….well, it was more of quick crunching and ripping? Shredding perhaps? Stark stared for a moment before the massive beast looked up at her and seemed to wiggle before going on it’s multi legged rampage. ”Looks like we might have a leg up on this one…” She quietly mused to herself before snapping back into battle as she dodged a sword.

She reacted without much thought as her left arm swept across her body, a thin stream of water extending from her fingertips, to slice the man’s throat open. Her right hand pushed, palm out, towards his face. The water forcing its way into his body via the slit in the throat. He fell to the ground in a heap-bleeding out while having a heart and lungs filled with water. Stark yelled out in pain as a blade sliced one of her arms on a back swing from a fight she’d been too close to.

Her silvery eyes slitted as she bared her teeth as her water reformed once again to change into an extension of her own arm- a large claw like shape that returned the cuts along the side of the H’kelan soldier. Finding this one of the more effective methods she continued on dodging and swinging her watery claws into the enemy.