The Day Before

"No coin, no play," the blacksmith said, he crossed his arms across his chest and grunted. They were gathered around a drinking table in the tavern playing a game of pirate dice, all taking the portion of the day to relax from their daily activities. Dalious approached appearing to be a beggar, with dirty and ragged clothes still stained from his own dried up blood.

"I have a horse," Dalious assured the working men. "There, notched just outside. Black as the night and as swift as a sparrow. She's fast and sturdy. I call her Stealthion."

The blacksmith and the others went just outside to take a look, all agreeing with the payment by shaking their heads. They sat back down at the table, pulling up a new chair for the pirate. Each man put five dice into a mug, shook them all up, then slammed them down on the table upside down. They got quiet as they were in thought, but upon the ending of every round became again loud and drunk. By the end of the hour, the last two men playing were Dalious and the blacksmith, the largest pile of coin on Dalious' side.

"Three sixes."

"Exact!" the blacksmith spat. He had two dice left, one being a six and the other a three. He was confident Dalious had two sixes, plus his own six would justify his claim. They showed their hand. Of Dalious' three dice, he had zero sixes, leaving the blacksmith's six as the only one. "Damn you outlander! You've won every single damned game since we started!"

"You've one dice leffft, mate,"he slurred.

They shook the cups again and slammed them down. At this point Dalious was incredibly drunk, and realized this was not only a game of dice, but also a game of who could stay up the longest. The blacksmith could drink as he quickly found out, both of the two having ordered whiskeys with every pint of ale.

"One four."

"TWO FOURS!!!!"

"Three fours."

"Ahhh, lies!!"

They revealed their hands again. The blacksmith had a single four, while Dalious had two fours and a five.

"Three fours," he said and smiled.

"Ahh pissoff you shit grinder!!" the blacksmith yelled and nearly waved his drink off the table. "Beginner's lu-hick-k!"

"Keep your gold friend," Dalious said, a more serious tone in his voice. He pushed even his own winnings throughout the night over to the man's side of the table, leaving him with a confused look. "Even keep my gold."

"Why for?" he asked. "No one plays for free, this I know. What do you want?"

"You are the blacksmith, yes?"

"Ah, I see," he said. "What kind are you after?"

"Only your finest."

Day of Battle

Dalious rode Stealthion near to the front of the line. He was cloaked from head to toe in fine metallic armor that fit his form perfectly. It was black as his horse, with dark red chain mail at his joints and underneath. He had two silver gauntlets that reached from his fingertips to just before his elbow, strong enough to deflect a slashing blow. At least the blacksmith thought so as much, he had never gotten around to test the theory. The gauntlet on his right hand concealed a hidden blade that propped out upon his will. A black hood hung over his head, good for disguise as well as in blocking the sun's rays. Strapped to his back was a silver long katana with a black and red handle. The sheath was of the same coloring, but the red formed a painting of a dragon that stretched from bottom to the top. At his hip was a holstered blunderbuss that the blacksmith threw in freely, just for the good game. Even his horse Stealthion was cloaked in fine leather armor at the body and the head.

As he listened to the mad king speak before his army, he couldn't help but to find himself wondering why he was even still here. His debt to the prince was already paid for back at the arena, yet he longed to follow him again anyway. In any other instance, the man would have taken his earnings and headed back to sea, but this dispute was of the most important. It gave him reason to be of use. Maybe he liked Barcea more than he ever admitted.

He left Stealthion back a ways and went forth on foot with the others. Moments later, the arrows were cast and it had begun. As Joachim and Alsius broke the line and took to the archers, Dalious followed just a few feet behind. His first attack was to be with the blunderbuss, that he took out and aimed to the nearest threat. He pulled the trigger, but the weapon just clicked and did nothing.

"Son of a whore!!" he yelled.

The sword and the armor, however, held up to expectation. He swayed in and out, hacking and slashing enemies all around him with quickness and precision. Blocking a strike with his left gauntlet, he punched the attacker with his right, sticking him in the throat with his hidden blade, then concealing it again. He then rolled past the next attack and to the back of the enemy, bringing his katana upward, splitting the man nearly in half.

He reached the archers, slicing two of them at their stomachs and spilling their guts before they could nock the next arrow. The third archer was ready for him, though, as he aimed and loosed. Dalious swayed slightly backward as he charged the man, causing the arrow to nick his armor and fling off. The archer was quick enough to nock his next arrow, but Dalious was already upon him. He sliced downward just before the arrow was let go, cutting it down, then swung the katana back upward and hacked the man from chest to shoulder.

A large and tall H'Kelan came forward weilding a warhammer that he swung back and forth with great ease. He smashed the soldier beside Dalious into the ground with a single stroke, pushing the soldier's head into his body. His next swing came for Dalious, though the pirate rolled under it and backed away from the enemies reach span.

"To your duty, then," he said, a smirk on his face.

Before the large man could attack again, his head suddenly exploded and his body fell slumped to the ground. A sniper off in the distance had seen to that kill, while Dalious huffed and shrugged his shoulders. He gave a thumbs up in the air, then went back to fighting.

Thuraya hadn't said much to anyone. Hadn't found the need. Everyone went about their business, and she went about her own. Be it catching up with friends, talking strategy... gambling their night away - The woman didn't care. She didn't care to learn about any of these people, and made it quite clear she wasn't there to make any friendly relationships with anyone from the lot. Orders were orders and that was that.

As they went toward the border, Thuraya kept her place, and stayed silent. Though it was clear there was more on her mind than orders, more than the inevitable battle to come. She seemed distant, thoughtful, curious and angered. Her lips were tight and eyes narrowed, looking to the ground as they traveled. What was on her mind..?

Exactly what she saw when they'd arrived. Across the way- among the H'kelan forces, were faces she'd not seen since childhood. Ones she'd tried to forget. Of course, much like her, they looked different. Larger, more fit and battle-ready than they were as younglings. They were all much larger than her, both the men and women. More toned, seemingly more ready than she could ever hope to be. She looked down at herself as the conversation ensued between King and Queen, taking in her own features for a moment, but was taken out of her trance as an arrow's whistle through the air came to an abrupt stop next to her foot.

Emerald eyes gazed at it for only a few seconds, then rose to the archers. The others on her own side moving forward to engage in combat. She waited for her chance - as the others started the battle, her eyes went from in front of the Barcean royals to the side. The mad king and the immediate forces at his side were not her concern now. Those she'd gazed upon at first were making their way in, and she would be the one to meet them.

'You have no ties. They tormented you. They left you for dead...' she thought to herself as she turned and lifted her sword, feet bracing hard against the ground as she made her way forward at a quick sprint from the start. 'They never helped, they never would have understood anyway! Never would have even tried to!' hands grasped tighter at the great-sword's handle, lifting it slightly off her shoulder to swing once in range. Her tail out straight behind her as she ran, and with a quick hop at her full speed, her tail curled in and her blade swung in a great cleave.

It met with a clang against the largest male's blade that was slightly smaller than her own. He would have a stronger swing than her, and likely much faster. "So this is what you've all become then!" she said as she was forced backward through the air, skidding across the ground on her feet, right hand touching down to the ground as she locked her eyes on the male. "Sister! Why, it's been much too long!... We thought you'd be dead by now."

She scowled, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. "It would take much more than neglect to take me!"
"Then allow us to do what Mother had tried. Let us show you her wrath ourselves! What fury we had endured when you ran!"

She heard the others all speak words such as 'coward', but she had been taught for many years now that she was no coward. Given the care she'd needed, she had grown strong. 'Stronger than any of them...' Feet pushed her forward then, and as she was surrounded by the others, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to leap, a spinning slash to truly start things off. "To think you once helped me, Kadir!" laughter sounded from the largest male, and he struck her blade with his own, lunging his tail her way.
Her body swung itself as much as it swung her sword about. Dodging blades, deflecting strikes and keep herself in motion, only stopping when necessary.

Kadir, as she'd called him, was the first to fall. As she ducked under two blades crossing horizontally her tail lunged forward. While she figured the lot of them would be immune to her venom, the piercing of her large stinger would do damage in it's own right - and it did. Blood dripped from her tail, and was spewed forth from the man's mouth as he quickly lost strenght and fell off the tip to his knees and eventually fully to the ground after a little shove from her right hand. Left grasped the sword tighter. 'Kadir... The only one who would ever think twice about caring for me. How far you'd fallen. It is better this way."

Next, she turned her focus to a sister- "Dalia!" she called, the woman's eyes looked upon Thuraya and quickly widened as she noticed the smaller charge forward, sword quickly drawn to the side and across, a flip and the giant woman dodged with ease. Thuraya's arm brought her sword behind herself, the swish of a blade turned to a clang as she blocked an attack from behind. "Give up, Thuraya. You may have taken Kadir from us, but now Mother's fury fills us all!"

She gave a low hissing snarl and shook her head; "Fury will only drive you so far!" the next swing of her giant blade took half a tail and leg with it, Dalia crumpled to the ground, but pushed herself foward with her full leg and what was left of the other and tail to lunge at her youngest, smallest sibling. Thuraya stepped to the side with ease and knocked the woman down with the flat of her blade, kicking her sister aside and turning.

Two more brothers came at once along with a sister, 'Jammal, Gadi, Bahira...' she recalled their names as she ducked under a bladed fan and rolled from dual scimitars, worming her way from being crushed with a mace, or impaled by any of the three tails as she had done to their brother.

As her massive sword found it's way around her own body to deflect hits from their smaller weapons, including the break of Bahira's fan and the chipping of stingers on all sides, Thuraya hadn't noticed the disappearance of the last brother- "Farid..?" she asked softly, while keeping her eyes open, flowing with the motions to keep herself protected. It was when she managed to land a kick on Gadi that she noticed. As her brother stumbled back from her strike she noticed a sunken piece of earth, eyes widening. She stepped hard against the ground and felt it move beneath her and in that moment felt as though she'd already lost.

A hand reached up from beneath the earth that had sunk beneath her and grabbed her ankle, keeping her in place. It would take a moment for him to come out fully, this she knew, but she couldn't rely on her fancy movements to avoid them anymore. Mace came down on her tail and a broken fan was still bladed - she moved as best she could away from the blades but they found their mark of blood across her cheek. She moved past the pain in her tail with a look of wanting to throw up a little but managed to hold herself together. Body tensed and she pushed back then. Blade against scimitars to cleave Gadi nearly in two, Blood painting her and her siblings alike. She kicked at Farid's head as it poked up from the ground, with a satisfying snap. Her tail, while in pain curled up, knocking the mace down and she ducked to impale Jammal as she had Kadir.

She pulled her tail back and faced her sister, "Bahira..." she said as she stood up straight, sword gripped tightly, blood dripping from both her weapon and body alike. "Where is Riyad..?" she asked, though the larger woman giggled as a response.
"Oh, little Thuraya. You don't know how it works, still? After you ran the way you did?" She stepped closer, pulling out a second fan finally and shook her head. "He was eaten, just as you were scheduled to. He uh... He didn't make it up to Mother's standards, and... Well, you know how it is~!"

Thuraya's eyes widened and she went closer to Bahira. "So, you just... Let him die. Like you were going to let me."
"Survival of the fittest, Sister! It's not up to us! It's all by Mother's Will! She decides. She knows best! Now lay down and accept the fate you should've years ago!"
"No one decides my fate but me..."
"And what would you do? Kill me too? You've changed from coward to monster!"
"Monster... Heh, that one I could live with. As long as it's known... That "Mother" made the wrong choice. It's clear to me now... That none of you are stronger. And none of you ever deserved a better life than me."

Fan rose in an offensive position , broken fan in defensive, and Thuraya swung her sword heavily toward her sister. Another scar would form across the bridge of Thuraya's nose, blood flowed down her face, but she didn't stop. Sword swung in all directions. To anyone watching they'd think she had no form, no grace, but each strike was precise, each planned carefully before followed through, and eventually, she lunged, catching her sister on the large blade.

She stepped closer, the smallest of smiles across her bloodied lips, eyes closed as she lunged her tail into her sister's heart, pulling the sword out of her gut. "You didn't deserve it... And you didn't get it." Tail pulled out and she tossed the body to the ground with the others. She turned then toward the rest of the battle. Other H'kelans were cautiously making their way toward Thuraya, but they would be no challenge, she could already tell with how they looked at her as they came in. With these ties gone, she was no longer H'kelan. She could toss away her life before, knowing that her siblings had never wanted her back. Her "Mother" was someone she could ignore the existance of... Seryosa was her only family now, and with that in mind... fighting those of H'kela would be much, much easier.

Told you we shouldn’t have let that bastard go, thought Vesta venomously as the Queen was retreated from the field of battle, stepping out of the cracks that she had thrown herself into the moment Gartian had begun barking again in anticipation of what was coming next. From her hiding spot she could hear the familiar sound of a flock of bows firing, although the noises following were decidedly much different than what she was used to experiencing during her days of war. The ground where she had stood was cushioned with arrows that would have shredded her lightly armored body, but closer to her allies the earth lacked the usual porcupined appearance that followed a volley. Perhaps if she had known that the very men she distrusted were responsible for the rather magnificent defense she would have better opinions of them.

Okay, well, she definitely wouldn’t, but maybe she’d be a little grateful just this once.

As others charged past her to cut down the archers, Vesta calmly held her ground and drew her bow. She knew that running headlong into the fray was something she no longer could do, at least not until her hand was forced, and trekking back to her horse would just result in her needlessly butchering a fine mount. Besides, the H’kelans had been so kind to leave her with a fine supply of decent arrows and there was something poetically just about maiming a prick with his own ammo that Vesta could not bypass. With shaky hands fueled by anger, not whiskey, the woman ripped a small handful of arrows with still usable fletching from the ground. Properly equipped with enemy arrows, Vesta nocked one, drew back, and took aim.

The good thing about war was that it didn’t matter if your aim was shit. As long as you could fire an arrow far enough over the head of your countrymen, you were bound to hit some bastard who deserved it—and if you did, Divine’s forbid, hit one of your own, you’d never know anyway. One, two, three arrows flew out in quick succession in a high arc. With all of the chaos, Vesta could not tell if they hit any of the less-protected archers in the backlines or not. Regardless, she fired off another quick four, five, six shots before she began walking perpendicular to the frontlines, grabbing more arrows as she went and firing them high above so they could pierce down into the surging mass of yellow below.

However, at the sight of Cyril’s back charging towards the fray the woman, cursing under breath, began limping forward as fast as her crippled leg could carry her. The Prince may have claimed to be nothing like his father, but he sure had that foolhardy “lead from the front” attitude that the late King held. No longer trusting her bow arm to distinguish between the foes in yellow with the friends in blue, Vesta drew her blade. The snicker-snack of it sliding from its sheath seemed to shout out a challenge to those around her, for three enemies that had been moving towards the Prince now broke off to make the easy kill of a crippled woman.

Growling deeply, the woman wasted little time making her way towards the men, and was determined to spend even less on wasting them. Deflecting the first blow away with her scabbard, she tucked her body fluidly under the man’s arm and drove her sword through the gaps in the helmet of the second man before he could even scream. Withdrawing the crimson blade she smacked the third man in the head with her scabbard, the shaft ringing loudly against the metal, before twisting and slashing the first man through his less protected back.

She was about to drive her sword through the third man when she stepped awkwardly and, long used to falling, twisted to avoid landing on anything important. Dropping her scabbard and grabbing her knife, she reached up and jabbed the last man between the joints in his knee. As he came down she forced up her sword and caught him on the point, gravity and his weight doing the rest. The man fell to her side, dead, and Vesta began stumbling to her feet. During the struggle another H’kelan came at her, turning just in time to have a blade scrape against the front of her gambeson and flash within inches of her eyes. Blood pounding in her ears, Vesta jammed her sword underneath the shoulder of her attacker and righted herself.

Too close, she thought, eyes darting in anticipation of other foes.

All she saw were soldiers blue; she heaved a sigh of relief. As she bent down to pick up her scabbard she noticed blood dripping on the man below her. Touching her chin with the back of her glove, she pulled it away to see the material stained a darker color. Way too close, she thought, sheathing her weapon and taking a second to catch her breath while amongst allies.

While Joachim went immediately to the front to take care of the archers, Chi handled the enemies he might've missed from behind. Her sweater deftly wrapped around her waist, she already had her bone katana jutting from her arm as she deflected and stabbed. Joachim might've kept to his no-killing rule, but to her, it was meant to be a bloodbath.

As she continued making a bloody mess of the H'kelan soldiers, her eyes went from their pinkish tint to a crimson red. They would turn into a much darker hue of red, one that matched the color of the blood she was spilling. Her expression was focused, her eyes never leaving whatever target may have come her way. It was a slightly disturbing scene, really. A small female, pigtails dipped in blood and a sword made from her own bone destroying any enemy that came before her.

In surprising contrast to Chi, Joachim remained completely calm and in control in the depth of the H'kelan line. Only a few knew what he looked like even as he began to lose control, and no one else would that day, even his enemies. That didn't mean he wasn't terrifying, however; being chased down by a blur with a very sharp blade was naturally very frightening for anyone who had to face it, even if he killed not a single soul. The fact he wasn't killing went missed in the chaos of the moment as his blade carved through weaker armor and found gaps in stronger.

Eventually there weren't any archers left near him, as all had fled away. It left him alone in the middle of a very hostile armed force as the enemy turned to try and close him in. They never quite managed to form a circle around him though, as he was simply much too fast, targeted the slightest exposed weakness to break out and through, into the next group of soldiers. So mobile he was that he had soon sliced his way back out, reaching Chi once again.

And, oddly enough, he swung his blade at hers, blocking it and keeping it away from the last man she had cut down. The look on Joachim's face wasn't angry, but more disappointed than anything, though he only looked to her for a moment before whirling, kicking the man on the ground so hard he was sent forwards into the legs of several other men, sending them all tumbling.

“Remember the deal we made, Chikako.”

She was surprised to feel her blade catch his and nearly snarled at him as he reminded her of their policy. As he went to kick the man tumbling into his comrades, she withdrew her sword and proceeded to reach into her spine to take out her whip.

“Yeah, yeah, at least I had my fun.”

For a short woman, her whip seemed to be at least double her length. Large swarms of enemy soldiers attempted to pile on top of her stationary position, but were swept away rather quickly. The vertebral spikes weren't penetrating any sort of skin, as that would probably kill them, so she used the blunt end to merely sweep them away. It wasn't any fun, she thought, but she was an honorable woman and would uphold her part of the deal.

Her traveling companion seemed pleased as she changed her tactics, and once more became focused on the battle raging on around them. His quick movements complemented the sweeping style she adopted with her whip, covering the holes she made in her attacks. Together, the two were completely unapproachable, overwhelming their foes with frightening ease. Years of fighting on the battlefield together showed in that moment, in just how coordinated and skilled they were.

With no warning towards Joachim, Chi suddenly retracted her whip, returning it into her back without so much as a grimace. She stretched her neck sideways, as if trying to get her spine back into its natural place, then reached into her thigh to pull out her femur. Its naturally club-like appearance quickly shifted into one of a more uniform cylinder and stretched the same way her whip had. Now narrower and longer, it resembled that of a bo staff. Giving it a slight twirl, she jutted it outwards towards the oncoming soldiers, who seemed to quite happy with the change of weapon.

She glanced at Joachim once before holding one end of the staff out towards him and leaving herself completely open. The man glanced over, and without hesitation moved to her, cutting one man in the process. Quickly his hand snapped out, grabbing a hold of the end of her new weapon tightly. With a bit of a smirk and a decent amount of strength, she started to swing him around, much like she did with her whip.

For the brief moment before she swung him, he seemed nervous- after she actually lifted him off his feet though, he once again became completely serious. She swung him around, and then at the end of her swing he released, spinning through the air with his sword as a slash blur as he flew past several H'kelans, striking them down.

For the first time, laughter erupted from the small woman as she shoved and hit any soldier who thought she'd be an open target after Joachim had left her staff. When he returned, she would have her staff out once more, ready to swing him back into the action.

Landing with a roll, Joachim sprung to his feet and then leapt backwards, once more towards Chi. Again, his hand went out to grab the staff, though this time in the same movement he sheathed his blade in one swift movement. His other hand shot up to grab the staff as well, and with surprising strength he whirled, suddenly lifting her off her feet as he swung her around instead.

She grinned at the change, holding on with one hand gripped tightly onto the bo staff and her free hand already uncovering a bone blade. It came from her upper wrist and she closed her fist to fully extend the blade. She slashed anyone who dared to come close, only letting go when her feet touched the ground. With the hand that gripped the bo staff, she lifted Joachim off the ground for another round of Phantasm slashing.

This time he didn't let go, being swung around and around. With each slash he sent H'kelans flying backwards, sending them tumbling away afterwards. As Chi brought herself to a swinging around to a stop he landed on the ground once again, quickly straightening; however, the two of them together had easily carved a large hole into the H'kelan forces, sending wounded limping and crawling away.

In the midst of the wounded and limping, Chi returned all of her weapons back into her body. She bent backwards, sideways and forwards as she made sure everything was put in its proper place. Heading over to Joachim, she rolled her shoulder a bit before landing a hearty slap on his back, grinning the entire time.

“Now THAT was a fight!”

The Wanderer actually stumbled forwards from the hit, squawking slightly before he quickly looked up to his traveling companion, frowning. “Yes, but it is not quite over... Do not celebrate so soon…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Even I know that much.”

It was truly a combination of the efforts on the Barcean front that drove the H'kelan forces back. Though the efforts of the two Gifted which produced shocked responses from their enemy, the terror that the Direwolf struck into the hearts of those unlucky enough to face him, and the chanting of the Paladin as he crushed heads were all significant factors in driving the attackers back, it was more than just the efforts of the strong that resulted in victory that day. Everyone involved truly played a part in it, from the defensive Sampson to the wild Gortul, the sniping Alice to the watery Stark, the healing of Diane to the trickery of Dalious, the strength of Thuraya and the force that was Shadar, the returning skill that was Vesta and the fresh slaughter that was Calypso; all of these efforts came together to not just ensure victory, but to make sure no Barceans were lost to these simple H'kelan soldiers.

Cyril played no small part of this. His efforts on horseback consisted of not just smashing through lines, but also guiding and directing. More often than not he shouted orders to someone (typically the Sentinels or someone along those lines), guiding them to weakened points of the H'kelan forces. With the Prince's keen eyes repeated strikes were brought down upon the crumbling H'kelan mind, and it was only a matter of time before they turned and fled. When they did so, a few gave chase initially, such as the Paladin, Direwolf, and even the Prince, but the latter of which soon reined his horse in, calling out high over the clamor of the retreat:

"RETURN TO ME! RETURN TO THE BORDER, TO OUR FORCES!"

The Prince's reasoning for this was quite straightforward: There was no telling what Gartian had waiting for them beyond the cracks, what force the retreating H'kelans were running towards. Pursuit would just lead to someone getting killed, losses that the Prince refused to risk. Instead they would retreat back to the Barcean line with plenty of warning about the coming conflicts, and with plenty of time to prepare. Whatever time they could get, the Prince would take; he knew it was all a matter of surviving until the Guratans arrived.

The quick retreat brought them back to Alasa and the Queen, who were already waiting back at the main fort on the Barcean side of the Great Cracks. The Queen had already given orders, which meant the Barcean soldiers were mobilizing as the company arrived. Cyril added on to the orders of the Queen with the following: To hold the Cracks for as long as possible, then the forts, and then every single inch of the Barcean fields for as long as possible.

With the orders given, Cyril looked to his sister. "It's not safe here, Kori. We need to get you back to the Capitol." The Queen didn't respond to his words initially, acting as if she hadn't heard him at all. Instead, she simply looked back and forth, seeing as the soldiers began rapidly preparing what defenses they could muster even before moving out to set up lines along the Cracks, but she eventually looked to him with after a gentle sigh, giving a nod.

"If you insist, Cyril."



When the walls of the Capitol once again came into sight it was already well past the setting of the sun, so the white walls almost gleamed eerily as they reflected the moon. The gate was only brought up after they announced themselves, security tighter than normal thanks to the changed (and now rapidly worsening) conditions. Having seen the streets for the most part full during the day, to see them so empty at night was a strange sensation for many of them, even for a few of those that had lived within the Capitol for all of their lives.

From the outer walls to the inner walls they made their way, before passing into the center area with the castle. Gentle light came from the castle, leaking through the windows and the walls, so it wasn't terribly dark as they made their approach. When they got closer the front doors to the castle were opened, their arrival clearly expected...

Probably in no small part thanks to Ayano, who practically tumbled through the newly opened doors after they opened. Who knew just how far away she had smelled them from, but she had single-handedly made sure enough servants were up for the company's return (and more as well, thanks to who she went blindly crashing through the halls to do so). Even as the party came to a stop she was right there in front of the horses, her fingers groping out to find anyone she could as she spoke up.

"Kori, Cyril! You're back! Everyone's okay, right?!"

Cyril was one of the first to drop from his horse, so he stepped forward to Ayano, gently taking one of her hands and giving it a squeeze. "We're alright, Ayano. A few bumps and bruises, but nothing too serious. We're all here."

"Oh, good!" Even as she spoke the Princess heard her sister gently return to the ground, and still holding Cyril's hand reached out for her as well. Smiling gently, but in a tired sort of way, the Queen placed her hand in Ayano's as she came close.

"I'm here, Ayano. You should be asleep by now."

"Do you honestly think I could sleep now?!"

As Ayano rushed out the doors to greet her siblings, Etsuko wasn't far behind. The fortune teller did her best to keep up with the Princess, trying to guide her as best as she could. However, when Cyril and Kori seemed to take the lead, Etsuko immediately rushed to her tall friend and wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Calypso! Oh thank the Divines you're alright!"

Calypso seemed to be startled at a sort of reverie when her friend hugged her, hopping in her place slightly. However, she smiled even more than usual as she looked down to the Diviner, gently bringing one hand up to pat her head with the tips of her fingers.

"Of course...~"

Etsuko looked up at Calypso, smiling slightly at the gentle pats she was receiving on the head. She still hadn't let go.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

The taller young woman shook her head- indeed, despite all the blood that had been drawn, none of it had been hers.

"Nope...~ Not at all...~"

Finally, she let go and gave a sigh of relief. Her smile grew as she heard the news of no injuries from Calypso.

"I'm so happy to hear that."

She seemed to remember that there were other people in the party as well, and she tilted her head to look behind Calypso. Immediately, her eyes landed on Christopher, to whom she gave a smile.

"Christopher! It's good to see you again!"

The Paladin's student seemed more tired and surly than usual, but at Etsuko's greeting he seemed to at least try and muster some more energy, to be polite. He gave her a nod, bringing up one slight wave to her with his now grime-covered gauntlet.

"Hey, Etsuko. Doing alright?"

She nodded her head, still smiling.

"Yes, now that you're all back here. I was so worried!"

She started moving towards him, her smiling slowly giving way to a worried expression.

"Did you get hurt? Are you alright? I can tend to any wounds you have if you need me to..."

He quickly shook his head, bringing up one hand some as he did so and shaking it as well. "No, no, I'm fine. Just some bruises, nothing unusual. Don't worry about it."

She seemed to do the exact opposite of that for a moment, looking even more worried as her eyebrows furrowed slightly, only to sigh and nod.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright. You and everyone else, it seems. Er, I'm sure you're tired, like everyone else. Um, good night then, Christopher. I'm glad you came back safely."

"Night, Etsuko."

While those two said their farewells, it was while the royals came to Ayano that the much taller elf made her presence known. Krissandria stood back a ways, behind Ayano, staring at the Queen. Slender hand came up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and took quick steps forward. The click of her heels on stone were full of determination, of what, she was sure they would know. She stopped just behind Ayano, eyes falling on Kori still. Lips were tight, posture was perfect as she stood there, one hand raising to rest upon her hip for only a moment before both arms crossed.

Silence came from here for a few moments to wait for the Queen to finish what business she had with her siblings and with a small, sharp breath, she began. "Your Majesty!" Her tone was not loud, though it was nearly as sharp as the breath she'd taken. It was not so much one of discipline, but more of concern. No one had mentioned a damn thing to her. "Throne and chambers empty? Steed gone? No note?!" She simply stared then, then let her eyes shift to Cyril. "And you let her go!" The tone was clear - she didn't mind so much that they had gone. It was just... "Majesty..." she started softly, "I am a hundred and nine years your senior. When I say not to go off without telling me, one would think that I speak from experience. Yes, I realize you're the Queen, and know that you can, and respect that you do make your own decisions. You know I would do anything for you, but I ask just one thing... One thing that perhaps you would do for me..?"

She brought herself down then, to a kneeling position. At first her head hung to match her bow but eventually did look up at Kori. A soft, relieved sigh, and eyes full of almost fleeting worry. "Please do not leave without notifying me again..."

While Ayano remained blissfully relaxed when the elf spoke, both the Queen and Prince seemed to realize that they were in trouble. While Cyril's back suddenly went straight, the Queen closed her eyes gently as if she accepted her fate, before opening them once again to listen to her bodyguard. The Queen was much more calm than the Prince, who went even more rigid as the Queensguard suddenly (and thankfully only briefly) turned her attention to him before focusing on the Queen again. In that moment it seemed like the Prince might try to slink away, but the Queen just gave a slow nod.

Her hand went down, gently resting on Krissandria's head before it went down as the Queen bent to lift the elf up by her hand. "I apologize for worrying you so much, Krissandria. I would have avoided doing so if I could, but there simply wasn't any time."

"Gartian forced our hands..." Cyril mumbled this as if to defend his own actions, before he quickly busied himself with checking over the Sentinels and making sure everything was being taken from the horses properly. The Queen briefly looked to him before her gaze returned to the elf, giving a slow nod.

"He called for a meeting on the border, but it was just to declare war. If we had waited any longer, then many would be dead now."

As she felt Kori's hand upon her head, then lifting her up. Krissandria hand reached for the Queen's and only held for a moment before dropping. She stood slowly, keeping in a slight bow for a moment even as she got back to her feet. "I understand." Her mind went over what had been said. War had started again then. She couldn't say she didn't see it coming. Gartian, from what she had learned, was completely mad and it had really only been a matter of time before he forced battles to begin once more, and for war to rage its way across the lands.

She gave another soft sigh, eyes closing, clearly calming down now. "A meeting on the border, I assume to take your life himself?" her tone dropped to a much lower pitch, eyes opening only slightly, looking down to the ground. Head shook once in each direction and she forced a small smile to her lips. "Well, what's important is that those lives that would be lost are not, and your own is spared as well. Surely you need rest, Your Majesty... Cyril!" she looked back to him then; "I would have a word with you, if I may, about what transpired at the border? Then, you too, should rest." Of course, she would accept the events' explained by anyone else, if he so chose to appoint someone. Truly she only wished to know what she would need to prepare for.

Briefly it seemed like Cyril thought he might be yelled at again and a little more thoroughly this time, but he relaxed a bit once again as it seemed that she just wanted information. He nodded, returning back to the elf, and as he did so the Queen began to move again, gently leading her sister inside. "I'll be inside, Krissandria. Come, Ayano. Good night Cyril."

"Good night Ayano, good night Kori." With his farewells said, he looked back to the member of the Queensguard. "It was pretty straightforward. It took place in the Great Cracks, and he was waiting with his forces. When he didn't get what he wanted, he left and had them attack us. Alasa was the one who led the Queen to safety."

"And so simply, the war continues." She frowned slightly, brow furrowing. "Well, it would seem that my time upon the battlefield is not yet complete." Eye opened and she gave another small bow to the prince. "I'll see to it that Alasa is properly thanked. For now, however, it would be wise if you and the others also get some well-deserved, and needed rest. Get it while you can, Cyril... Rest may not be a luxury you get to enjoy much longer." Her tone dropped once more, as did her gaze. Her hand went to the side of her face, fingers gently moving along the side of her eye-patch, other eye closing.

Clearly her memories had bested her in that moment, lips parted slightly as she slowly took a deeper breath then composed herself. "Good night, Prince Cyril."

"Good night, Krissandria." He gave her a nod before he turned, once more beginning to move away with some actual purpose. Everyone was dismissed in that moment, considering how sound the Queensguard's advice was; rest was needed, especially with what would probably be coming in the other days. As everyone dispersed, either going straight to rest, cleaning themselves, or tending to whatever small wounds they may have gained, the Prince took a moment to look out towards the wall, frowning some before he turned to enter the castle.

Things were normally quiet within the castle, but at night it was a different kind of quiet. Rather than being one of reservation and borderline contemplation, at night it was a sort of stillness, just enough to be restful. Whatever noise that was created by their entrance and moving through the halls was quickly dispersed, but to the east where the Queen kept her quarters it was almost completely silent.

The Queen walked herself back to her rooms after dropping Ayano off at hers, lost in her own thoughts. Her hand rested on her chest just above her breasts, in the same spot that she had touched each other as Gartian barked his demands. Her expression was thoughtful, but unlike usual there was almost a frustrated note to it. She managed to break this negative inflection as she entered her room, giving a heavy sort of sigh. Finally in her room, it would have been a simple matter to undress and then clothe herself for the night, but instead she delayed. The most she did was remove her crown from her head, gently setting it upon its place on her large nightstand.

Worry had set in early that day, though with everyone back at the castle things seemed more at peace, both within the walls themselves, and with Krissandria. She'd taken a more calming walk after her talk with Cyril. Slow paces, thoughts wandering, though she'd kept them from running off too far. Mostly, she thought of how she could keep herself informed, to prevent today from happening again... Of course, the thought of simply never leaving Kori's side was the first to come, and the longest to linger. As she struggled to think of other ways, she found herself walking closer to the Queen's chambers. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door, hand rose but simply placed itself on the cool wall, fingers pressing against it lightly before she finally moved it off the wall, and curled lightly, letting her knuckles tap against wood.

Silence followed for only a moment before another light tap and she spoke; "Kori? It's Kriss -- I-It's Krissandria, my Queen." eyes shifted, head turned each way down the hall. Fingers uncurled and she placed her hand lightly against the door, awaiting invitation in.

Perhaps the reason why the Queen had been moving so slowly was because she had been expecting a visitor to end the day, and more specifically this one. She gave a sigh to herself in order to keep her composure, closing her eyes briefly. She was tired, her thoughts were lost and almost overwhelmed, and neither of those would do in the moment. With the moment passed, she turned towards the door, raising her voice to gently call out to it:

"Come in, Krissandria."

Hand slid down the door to the handle, opening it and she slipped inside. Closing the door behind herself she turned to the Queen and her eye scanned over her body. Checking for any scrapes or bruises that would've been visible. Any differences in her stance or posture. Slowly she stepped forward, stopping a short ways away, taking herself down to one knee, head bowed. This bow was much different than the one she'd shown earlier, where others could see. It was much more of a relieved slump, than a proper bow. A real smile showing now, rather than a forced one. She reached one hand forward, palm up, as if asking for Kori to take it.

"I'm so relieved you are unharmed..."

Once more the Queen's hand found the elf's, gently resting in it for a moment before she took it gently, and once more brought Krissandria to her feet. The Queen understood why the elf felt the need to bow, especially in public, but in private it really was unnecessary. She'd rather see the elf's face when they spoke, and she gave a slight nod with her smile.

"I'm fine, Krissandria. Cyril was intent on not letting any harm come to me, so the likelihood of anything happening was very minimal."

As she stood, Krissandria's fingers curled around Kori's. Her eye shifted between each of the Queen's, keeping her smile, letting it grow slightly. "Yes... Yes I know Cyril would never let anything happen. As goes for the Sentinels, and all else in these beautiful lands." her other hand came up, taking Kori's other hand in it, before bringing them together with the others. Her own hands encasing the Queen's, eye closing as her head bowed. "It's just.. if anything had happened... For any reason at all, and I wasn't there, so I couldn't protect you... I..." fingers curled a bit more to grasp tighter at the other's hands.

The Queen smiled a little bit more, though it almost had a bittersweet note to it considering what Krissandria was talking about. In order to distract both herself and the elf from that line of thought she gently squeezed Krissandria's hands, reminding them both that they were still there, rather than in some sort of hypothetical. "I know, Krissandria, I know... But nothing did happen, not yet. Let's just be thankful for that, rather than thinking about what could have happened."

A small nod from the elf and she let her eye fall upon the Queen once more. "Yes... Yes of course. You're absolutely right." a small shake of her head and her smile faded slightly though looked much more sincere now. "Perhaps my worry can get the better of me. But all is well, now." She hesitated for a moment, to let go of Kori's hands, but after she'd managed to let go she stepped closer, pulling her closer. Arms wrapped around the other woman gently but amorously, tightening as she took a deep breath.

The Queen returned the gesture just as gently, briefly resting against the elf as she closed her eyes for a moment. Only after Krissandria had relaxed after her deep breath did the Queen pull away ever slightly, smiling gently as she looked to her once again, giving her a gentle nod. "All is well, as you said. Please, don't worry yourself about it anymore. I promise to do my very best to keep you informed from now on."

Krissandria relaxed further, feeling the Queen's weight leaning into her, however slight it was. The embrace tightened for a short moment before she pulled away slightly, and she let her eye meet with Kori's once more. Keeping one arm around her, the other pulled back, to once more take Kori's hand in her own. She rose their hands between them, placing a gentle kiss upon the queen's fingers before her own hand grasped tighter. "As you say, my Queen. I'll hold you to that promise. Yet I find myself pondering still, perhaps I could simply not leave your side."

The action made the Queen smile a little more, and she clearly didn't seem to mind what the Queensguard had to say. She gave another nod before she returned the gesture, mirroring how Krissandria had kissed her fingers as she did the same, before gently letting her go afterwards. "Maybe some time soon, Krissandria... But for now, I need to rest. My advisors are going to be quite... vocal tomorrow."

She nodded, tightening her embrace slightly as the queen let go and stepped back after she spoke. "Yes, of course. Rest well, Kori." To the door, she grasped its handle and opened it as slowly as she had when she'd entered, pausing to look back upon the Queen once more, smile fading only after she turned and left the room.

The Queen had returned the elf's smile as she left, but as soon as Krissandria left her face once again fell into its pensive state. She slowly turned, moving as if without direction as she slowly drifted through her room. Once more her hand came up, though this time it slipped to her neck. There it gently found a bright gold chain, and with a slow tug she slowly removed the piece of jewelry from her dress.

It was a small thing, just enough to fit it in her palm as she held it up. Made of gold that seemed to glow and gleam gently, the locket was a perfect circle and closed without a seam, so perfectly it was made. On the front face of the locket were set seven small jewels, no two of them exactly alike. The closest there were to being two of the same were two purple ones, though one was a much brighter shade while the other one was deeper and darker. Beyond that there was a bright silver gem, a dark gold one, another that was a soft red and yet another that was a faint blue, and the last of them all was one that seemed both black and white at the same time.

The Queen was one of the few who knew what was inside, so she made no move to open it. Instead she simply held it to her face, lightly pressing it against her skin as she almost desperately planned for the days ahead.



The next day went exactly as some may have expected, with plenty of movement into and out of the castle. Messengers were constantly on the move as soldiers were directed from the Capitol towards the border in even greater numbers than before. What messengers that returned from the border brought news that even if the H'kelans had already fought their way through the Great Crack, the forts were at least holding for the time being. However, no news returned from the north about the Guratans, which meant they were discounted in any sort of planning.

More than one of the advisors thought that the Guratans had already abandoned them, but both the Queen and the Prince held faith, and showed their patience. While the Queen set about calming those few advisors and keeping all minds on the tasks at hand, the Prince went about inspecting his own forces and his own maps, trying to come up with his own plans. He planned for every situation that he could account for, considering who he would send where and why. Even if he had recruited and brought many new people into his fold, it didn't feel like nearly enough.

So lost was he in his own thoughts and frustrations that by the time he snapped out of it day had already become night once again, and once more the halls had emptied and become quiet. Perhaps he would have simply stayed awake through the entire night if it weren't for the sudden wave of exhaustion that hit him, one that made him yawn and realize just how late it was. It took him a moment for him to put away everything he was working with, but soon enough he was on his way back through the hallways.

He should have head back to his room, but for some reason that night he didn't. Rather than following the hallways straight back, he instead chose to head outside into one of the courtyards. The night was unusually chilly, and yet still the Prince chose to remain outside, looking up towards the sky. Once more, a displeased expression came over his face, as if he came across a sour thought.

The constant movement throughout the castle did nothing to soothe Etsuko's nerves. Everyone seemed busy preparing for the impending battles to come and she felt utterly...useless. She couldn't offer her ability because of how weak it was. It would only give a small glimpse of the future, and even then, those glimpses were vague and blurry. Her worrying left her awake and on that cold night, she was wrapped up in her shawl in one of the courtyards.

She had been alone for a while, looking up at the sky from where she sat, which wasn't on a bench but rather in front of it. Her head rested on the seat as she looked up. Up above, it seemed like there wasn't any sort of chaos. No battles to be fought, no deaths to risk, just the starry sky.

A sudden stirring in the courtyard made her jump and turn around. She saw Cyril, a sour expression on his face. Slowly, she stood up and approached him, making sure to identify herself in case he was startled.

"Prince Cyril? I-It's just me, Etsuko. Is everything alright?"

The Prince tensed ever slightly in surprise, quickly turning in the direction of her voice. Realizing who it was and hearing her identify herself calmed him though, and he slowly relaxed as he gave her a nod, smiling weakly.

"Oh, hello Etsuko. Everything is..." He gave a slight sigh then, and shrugged. "Sorry. I've had a lot to think about as of late."

She nodded her head as she went to stand closer to him.

"Um, would you like to talk about it? I've heard it helps. B-But only if you want to, of course."

For a moment he was quiet, but then he just gave another sigh. "You weren't there for Etsuko, so it's hard to explain, but Gartian said a lot of true things about what Barcea has done in the past. How we attacked them, and the things we did. He's not wrong, and that's part of the problem."

She nodded her head slowly this time, remembering everything she had learned as a child in school. She knew about what the late King Olain Serio had done, and so she could imagine how upset the entire nation of H'Kela still was at Barcea. It didn't surprise her that they wanted Barcean blood to be spilt after having their own blood water the grounds on which they stepped on.

"I...see."

Etsuko was at a loss for words, unsure how to comfort the Prince. The least she could do was put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

He didn't seem to mind, silent for a moment longer. Eventually he spoke again, looking upwards briefly before looking to her. "It makes things difficult, especially considering Gartian is just wanting to attack us all the more. We have no choice but to defend ourselves, but still... Their grievances aren't without foundation." He shook his head slightly, as if thinking of something to say. For a few moments, both listened to the quiet of the castle...

The quiet that wasn't restful, but oppressive. In that moment the Prince tensed, a shiver running down his back as he tensed. His eyes flicked back and forth, hand going down to his sheathed blade at his side even as he coiled, ready to strike-

"Look out!" His hand shot out, knocking Etsuko to the side and to the ground even as two dark shadows dropped from some of the nearby trees. How the Prince had missed them he had no idea, but he had barely enough time to move Etsuko out of harm’s way before diving away from the thrown daggers as well. Rolling against the ground he shot up to his feet, rushing forwards to close the distance with the attackers, the only chance he had with his only weapon. With how quickly he moved he struck down the closest in their surprise, taking him down with one brutal strike that cut deeply into the neck.

The next was more than a little ready, and even as the first attacker fell the second was on top of him, forcing him back. Eyes narrowed as he watched the movements of his opponent, the Prince kept back as a knife was stabbed at him again and again, Cyril barely keeping out of its reach. The Prince only attacked when his opponent finally made a misstep, not pulling back fast enough from one particularly deep attempt at attacking. The Prince's blade flashed up, severing the would-be assassin's hand before he stabbed forwards, into the man's gut.

After a brief cry of pain, the man fell back and away. Cyril quickly whirled, going to Etsuko and holding his hand out to her. "Are you alright?!"

Etsuko yelped as she fell to the ground and watched as Cyril fought the two assassins off. She watched with bated breath as they attacked Cyril, hoping that no royal blood would be spilt. Thankfully, there was none. She was wide-eyed when Cyril offered her a hand, to which she took as she stood up. Gulping, she nodded and began frantically looking around.

"W-We need to get everyone! I-I can get them, b-but please let Queen Kori know!"

"No!" Cyril said, quite forcefully. Even as he said this he was turning, taking Etsuko by the shoulder and pulling her with him as he moved quickly towards the door. "I'm not leaving you alone when we have no idea how many there are. Besides-!" Cyril cut off his own words when, quite suddenly, he heard a scream, one that was followed by many more yells. As the castle suddenly woke up in chaos, the Prince grit his teeth as he slammed the door open, saying, "I'm sure they all know by now."

The first scream that came from the guard who woke up before he was killed was the cause of many saved lives that night. If it weren't for that one scream brought on by being stirred by his attackers, many more would have had their throats slit before even waking. Now though, they had a chance to arm themselves and fight, and maybe even survive. Their enemy, though great of number, was only lightly armored, clinging to the shadows in the attempt to kill before being spotted. With the Barceans awake, most of their element of surprise had been lost...

But there was something else wrong about this enemy, terrifyingly so, something that the Prince would soon discover. Through the hallways he led Etsuko, protecting her even as he passed guards that had just woken up and servants that were attempting to flee to safety. More than once they were attacked again, but Cyril fought off the assassins to send them fleeing back to the shadows. They passed more than one Barcean body, but the only corpses of the enemy they had seen were those of the ones the Prince had killed. That was the first sign that something was wrong.

The second sign came when they reached Kori. When they came to the Queen's room, several guards were already in place around it, and the doors were open. Why quickly became apparent as they entered, where they saw Kori sitting with two daggers decorated with blue in her hands, one of them wet with blood.

"Kori! Are you alright?!"

"Yes, I'm fine-" Even as she spoke the Queen's eyes widened, her rising to her feet as she brought her weapons up. "Cyril, behind you!" Swearing, the Prince whirled even as the guards that had been guarding the door screamed, falling as more assassins surged through. There were four of them, all of them wearing the similar dark robes that allowed them to hide so well in the dark... And yet Cyril still recognized two of them.

He recognized them simply because he had killed them both already, recognizing the wounds he had inflicted and the severed hand of one of them.

Once more his hand went out, grabbing Etsuko by her arm to shove her back and away, towards the Queen's own bed. As Kori moved in between Etsuko and the doorway with her knives drawn up, it was the Prince who actually went on the counter attack. Once more he moved with the intention to take out as many as he could before they could swarm past, and once more his blade cut through flesh with each. His strikes easily found home past the defenses of his opponents, stabbing deeply into chests, severing limbs and even lopping off heads...

And yet still it didn't end. Those he knocked to the ground simply got back up even as he struggled to deal with the next. They moved with jerked sort of movements, as if they were being manipulated by an outside source, almost like puppets. Though the limbs and other pieces that fell remained down, the rest of the body that remained together rose once again.

The situation became even worse when Cyril found himself caught in the middle of all four of them. Even as he spun back and forth trying to keep them all away at once, one with one leg and one armed suddenly surged forwards, leaning forwards in its movement oddly as if it were being dragged forwards. Its arm suddenly shot up, carving into the Prince's side as he yelled out. His arm swung, free fist knocking it away, but that simply opened up an opportunity for a killing blow...

A killing blow that never came, thanks to Kori. The Queen had rushed forwards, and with her full weight slammed against the attacker that would have killed her brother. Her tackle took them both off their feet and too the ground, and even as they hit the ground the Queen brought both of her daggers up and then down, driving them deep and all the way through the soldiers of the assassin, into the floor below. She kept them stabbed through, pinning the attacker to the ground even as she called out, "Cyril-!"

"I'm fine!" The time bought was enough for Cyril to recover. He lashed out, cutting one attacker back and diving away from another, towards one of the fallen guards. Hand lunging out to pick up one of the fallen blades, he pulled himself up into a crouch even as the third of the three still up swooped upon him. Lunging forwards, he crashed into this opponent as he stabbed him through with the guard's blade, running the attacker all the way to the wall where he pinned him through. From there his hand shot down, grabbing the dagger of the attacker from his hand before it fell so that he could whirl and throw it. It pierced through the arm of one of the attackers, sending it back to the wall but not pinning it; the Prince had to do that himself with a full shoulder ram, one that would leave a deep bruise in his own shoulder but pinned the attacker down.

That left one for the moment, one the Prince turned on just in time. The attacker had rushed forwards to attempt to stab Cyril through as he was distracted with the one just before, and he barely had time to bring his blade up to deflect the blow away. Even as he swung he released his own blade, tossing it to the ground as he instead went to grab both arms of his opponent. Back and forth they struggled, before the Prince managed to swing the surprisingly limp form around, twisting their own weapon on them to stab through and into the wall.

The Prince then whirled, quickly moving to pick up both his blade and another guards. He brought the guard's blade up as he approached Kori and the one she still had underneath her, and after she shoved herself off to the side he stabbed forwards, pinning it to the floor with a longer blade then Kori's daggers. With the sword placed he then pulled out both of Kori's daggers, handing them off to her even as he turned towards the door.

"Cyril, you have to go get Ayano! She can't defend herself!"

"What-?! Damn! I can't just leave you two-"

"Go, Cyril! I'll be fine!"

"Kori-!" Even as they argued, another dark form filled the doorway, and the Prince swore even more loudly. As he rushed to meet the newest of their attackers, throughout the castle others were having just as much difficulty with their opponents as presumed corpses suddenly rose to strike again, killing many good men and women unfairly.

Dalious spent the evening in the bathhouse, a large underground steam room with large stone pillars throughout. He lay in one of the furthest benches with nothing but a white towel on. There was a water pool that reached up to his knees, that he used to wash his face and hair. There were a few others in the room, though in his section he was alone. He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, expecting the rest of the night to be nice and calm.

His thoughts were of home, which in his mind was his old ship and the sea itself. Granted the ship was stolen, but it was his for that time, until it was yet again stolen from him. The life of a pirate. He had learned everything he knew from his days at sea, whether it be fighting on deck with his comrades or hunting on various islands. His captain, a man who took him in at a very young age, showed him how to kill a man. He had become addicted to combat in a sense, and mixing that with the pirate code of honor which was to take whatever you wanted when you wanted, he felt unstoppable. These days of the past now served as his meditation for current days, as he focused his mind on his learnings while also stretching his body to stay limber.

The screams from above could faintly be heard, but he immediately knew something was off. Before he could even react, a blood curdling scream rang throughout the wash room. Blood spilled over the stone walls in the distance, and a naked man ran across the room only to be quickly taken down by a thrown dagger. Two forms in black walked over to the wounded man and stood over him, then they dug their blades deep into his chest.

Dalious stood and they saw him next. He removed his towel and held it tight in his left hand from the elbow to the palm, knowing he just had to get to his weapon from the other side of them. The two dark cloaked figures slowly walked forward, as Dalious picked up a torch from one of the pillar holders in his free hand. The only thing on his mind now was to not die naked and weaponless.

He swung the torch to each side, trying to keep the attackers at a distance. One of them lunged forward with a straight strike, and Dalious dipped out of the way while bringing the base of the torch to his temple. A crashing sound and a splurge of fire erupted from the strike, as it knocked the enemy down to the flooring and away. The second man rushed in a second later and knocked the torch from his grasp, then went to stab the pirate in his chest. Dalious barely moved back in time, using his towel to wrap it around the attacker's wrist and kicking his weapon to the side as well. They struggled for a moment, then hit the ground. Dalious got back control and then wrapped his towel around the enemies throat, squeezing it as hard as he could until he heard a crack. He shoved the man off of him as the other was ready again for attack. Backing his nude body across the floor, he dodged and slid away from every death blow the attacker intended for him, cracking the tiles with every miss. Dalious rolled backward and to his feet, quickly grabbing another torch, then threw it into the enemies face to knock him back again. It was just enough time to reach his katana, which within seconds of grabbing it, the attacker was back on him. Two swift strikes from Dalious was all it took, as he cut the man deep across his stomach, then shifted the blade directly into the attacker's heart.

Dalious took a few deep breaths, then began to put on his armor. When he finished, he noticed the downed men start to move. They slowly rose, leaving a confused look on Dalious' face. "I've never been one to shy away from cheating, but this goes far and beyond that!" Now confident with his weapon at his side, we walked back up to the attackers and hacked them down yet again. He waited, and again they began to move. "Bloody hell. This is why I hate magic."

This time he walked forward and hacked their heads off, not staying to see the outcome of it. He had already lingered here for to long. Exiting the bathhouse he walked into a warzone.

"What kind of madness..." he muttered under his breath.

The Gifted woman was trying to fall asleep when she heard blood curdling screams outside of her room. She figured one of the maids had just been flashed something inappropriate and turned in her bed. More screams echoed through the hallway, causing her to eventually wake up very, very irritated. She grumbled as she walked to the door, making a mental note that Joachim was living up to his Wanderer title.

Upon opening the door with a tired and irritated expression, a splatter of blood that might've ended up on the door ended up on her cheek. It took her a moment to process what exactly she was seeing: bloodied hallways, corpses on the ground and dark figures making their way to her.

That last one made her wake up and her sweater was thrown into her room as she removed her bone blade from her arm to deflect a hit that was meant for her shoulder. She gritted her teeth slightly as another assailant came from her other side, to which she brought an arm up and a scythe blade was exposed. Chi shoved the original one backwards and kicked the second away from her.

“Divines fucking damnit, where are you, Joachim?!”

In chaos, there was no sign of her fellow Gifted. Wherever he was, he had been gone long before the violence had started up, so there was no hope of finding him in the middle of it. However, Chikako had other problems, considering the two attackers that had practically gotten on top of her with more in the wings... Until, suddenly, another shape shot through. Due to the speed of the movement one might have thought it was the Wanderer himself for just a moment, but the colors were all wrong. Instead of black and purple it was silver and red, and much too large for that matter.

Instead it was the Direwolf who came to a stop, sword stabbed through the head of one of the assailants to pierce through the throat of the next. He easily dragged both bodies forward along his blade for a few feet before he brought his thrust to a stop, ripping the blade away from the both of them afterwards. This certainly wasn't the Wanderer, who now kept as close to mercy as he possibly could; this was Alsius Argentum, whose brutality had not dulled.

“Hm. And here I thought these were friends of yours. Where's the Phantasm?”

Though she'd never admit it, Chikako was thankful to see Alsius. She rolled her shoulder slightly, glancing at the two dark figures that he had just taken down.

“The hell if I know. He's probably wandering.”

Well, she probably wasn't wrong.

Movement came from the corner of her eye and she was surprised to see that it was the two assailants from earlier. Frowning, she sprinted towards one of them, slashing across its chest before sending her blade piercing through its body. She didn't quite consider it killing, since they kept coming back and she doubted they were alive to begin with. The fact that she had to justify her actions in her mind in case Joachim came around the corner and made her feel like a small child being reprimanded by a parent seemed to irritate her more as she went after the second attacker.

For this one, she had jumped, swirling her blade from behind until it made contact with its neck and carved right through, ultimately beheading him. She landed with a small thump and glanced at the Direwolf.

“What are these things?”

When the foes got back up once again, the Direwolf looked towards them with a very narrowed glare, and continued to keep an eye on them afterwards even as Chikako seemed to finish them. However, even the one that had its head cut off began to rise once again, and the Direwolf once more brought up his blade to take his usual stance, with his right palm forward and above the blade. There were others still surging down the hallway towards them, often dragging along the walls.

“Unnatural.”

With that single word said, he once more surged forwards. The tip of his blade targeted the headless attacker's sternum, piercing through and out the back. His right fist lashed out, striking the other one nearby in the stomach so hard it knocked it off its feet and sent it back. From there, his hand went back to his blade, and using both blades he lifted the attacker that he had stabbed through up and around, before flinging it forwards down the hallway, sending it crashing into the group. With this done he turned, lowering his blade as he began to walk.

“We're heading around to the east of the inner circle. I have no doubt that's where most of them will be.”

Chikako did her best to fend off the ones approaching from the wings. While they were down, she turned to Alsius and gave a nod.

“Lead the way.”

At this point, she was trying to figure out a way to keep these unnatural attackers down. The more they kept standing, the more tired everyone would get. And that wouldn't be any good.

The Direwolf's decision to conserve energy was to take out those immediately in front of him, and then leave them far behind as they continued on through the hallways. It wasn't out of any sort of fear on the part of the Direwolf; after all, none of these strange attackers seemed to be able to land a hit on him, no matter how many times they stood up to try. It was with the goal of efficiency that he kept moving, making his way around the inner circle as quickly as he could.

He passed by the dead and dying, but one that was still alive brought him to a stop quite briefly. When the assassin crashed through the door right in front of him, he drew up rapidly into his stance, expecting it to fling towards him next. However, it apparently hadn't been sent through of its own volition, as the Divine Paladin's young student flung himself after it, pinning it to the ground. Rapidly he began striking it, arcs of electricity crackling out and around with each blow.

“JUST STAY DOWN YOU SON A WHOREMOTHER- WHAT THE HELL-?!” Suddenly, Christopher's world went sideways after the Direwolf stepped forwards towards him. The knight had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragging him along as he yanked the young man to his feet without giving him a second glance. To begin with he didn't answer, but when he did it was quite (brutally) simple:

“Stop wasting time on non-threats and get to the Serios.”

“LET GO OF ME DAMMIT-!”

Chi was right behind Alsius--and now the Paladin's student--and she held up her blade to his neck and glared impatiently.

"Shut up and do what he says."

Without so much as turning around, she brought the back of her fist up, it slamming into the face of an attacker who might've thought to catch her off-guard.

The eye of the young man twitched once when the blade from someone who was supposed to be an ally was brought to his neck, and then again when she so easily smashed another attacker. Only then did he speak, almost muttering, “Divinesdammit I thought he was the only psychotic bastard I'd meet but, noooooo, I have to run into more-“ He yelped then as Alsius flung him forward so that he could take his stance. While Christopher stumbled before bringing both fists forward to take out one assassin, the Direwolf shot past to take out another three. Secure on his feet, the Paladin's student followed after Alsius, not without muttering, “I hate my life, I hate you all, fuck this shit, fuck that shit, fuck that thing's face, fuck its couch…”

So on and so forth.

Chi held up from behind, slashing and slamming the assassins with ease. She had thought of changing her weapons, mainly to make things slightly more interesting for her, but thought otherwise when they came in waves.

“Geez, they're like roaches. Bloodthirsty roaches.”

“-fuck this education, fuck this- Oh, I get it, because they swarm, right-?”

”Silence.”

---

The hour grew late and the young boy still hadn't finished his studies for the day. With news that the kingdom had gown to war, many of the solders and knights of Barcea were busying themselves preparing for the worst. However, Marco still was told to do as instructed.His lessons would take priority over all else, unless an emergency occurred. Master Az'Cer Codigo, Arcmagus of the Capitol, had given his a harsh lesson about the reality of their situation.



Sighing deeply, he scribbled away with quill and ink. He had to transcribe some of the older text unto fresh parchment, translate a few terms into more a. It was murder on his wrist, each loop of cursive brought about a sharp pain, and his eyes strained to see in the sim light of his candle. At this rate he wouldn't be finished until the first light of dawn. However, the boy had a nice mug of hot fresh coffee beside him. Never did Marco ever truly live until he tasted the nectar of hot bean juice. He had always seen his father drink it, but couldn't understand for the life of him why it was so important. Then again, he didn't really understand what was important overall to begin with...

He raised a hand to his face and pressed the tips of his finger into his eyes. The slight pressure blocked out the light, causing stars to pop and explode behind his heavy lids. How long had he been working again? It almost seemed as if he was working through the entire day. "Perhaps sleep is the answer," he thought to himself as he removed his hand and went for his mug. Coffee doesn't seem to be doing much more of anything other than making my bowels act up. As if on queue, his stomach gave a howler. "Another restroom break, a few more pages, and then I will choose to sleep. Master will punish me for not completing my task on time, of course." He gave a nod, affirming his decision before pushing himself back away from the hardwood desk he had hunched over. Joints crackled and clicked as he stood up, the soreness of his tired limbs rose up with him. He downed the last few dregs that remained in his cup and took it with him as he descended from his spire work place.

His master had personally requested that Marco be allowed a room to rest and a room in which he could work. Marco never believed that in his years he would ever be able to stay in a place such as this. Grand halls, regal balls, and plenty of food for him to gain more than a few inches of fat. In all honesty, the life style made him fell more lazy. So whenever the opportunity arose for him to help around the castle he took it willingly, as long as it didn't interfere with his work. He enjoyed the view, though it was a bit vertigo inducing at first. It was a swirling staircase, enough room for two men to walk abreast at any point, that spiraled high into the air.

Marco placed down his mug on the windowsill of his bedchambers and started to undo his breeches. He hands fumbles lazily with the knot, when he heard a communion out in the hall. 'Perhaps it is just a collection of drunk guards, trying to dull the edge of the recent events', he thought to himself as he sat about. He did his business rather quickly, the caffeine more so forced its way out of him. 'Perhaps I should ween myself off of the stuff... these unexcused breaks are becoming more frequent and it displeases me.' He could only sigh as he reached for a cloth to clean himself with. There was much for him to consider before the night was through.

He stopped, stained cloth in hand, as the earlier commotion came closer. Before he could only hear slight shouts and an rare yell, not too uncommon for drunkards, but now he heard the truth. The song of ringing steel, the pained, labored, grunts of combat, and the unforgivable sound of death. Whomever was engaged in the fighting, it was intense. Marco felt his lung seize up as he silently listened. He could not tell exactly whom was fighting, but knowledge from the earlier events of the day gave him a strong inkling. He reached behind his waist to the spell book that he never kept far from him, as he was instructed, and edged slowly back into his bedchambers.

The air felt different was the screaming continued farther off, muffled by so much stone and distance. Marco could feel the energy of the night and knew that he wouldn't be able to get his work done. 'Master Az'Cer will be cross with me', he thought sharply. His brow creased as a frown crossed his face. Why would he be concerned with his master's will at a time like this? Their lives are in danger and he still holds the mindset of a servant. He needed information, it was the key to any situation as he had learned repeatedly. He had nothing really to protect him, being dressed in his night clothing and barefoot, other than his spells, he would rather use the time to prepare a few layers of protection.

He kept the light of his bedchambers dimmed, make it appear as if he is not alert, and started to chant in the tongue of the Divines. He felt power surge through his being as he channeled magics beyond his comprehension. Soon his attire changed and he stood clothed in ethereal robes with tendrils of magic trailing from his hands. His chamber doors flew open with a loud crash, shadowed figures rushing forward with steel in hand. Their keen edge gleamed like slithers of the moon, Marco knew that they were not for show.

"Bego-!", his words were cut off as a dagger dug its way into his shoulder. Had he stood still for longer than he did, his life would have ended. The blade was aimed for his heart and it burned like the sun in his arm. The boy wouldn't be able to negotiate his way out of this situation, so he turned to the magic that he had been learning. He called out for the Divines to give him strength that his body lacked and threw up his palms. The movement caused his shoulder to burn again, but he followed through anyway. An invisible wall of force shot forward from the boy and pushed the creatures backwards. There was a thunderous crash as he moved most of the belongings with them. Loose bits of parchments, books, strange instruments, and even a small table where sent flying towards the exit. The instruments exploded into a cloth of glass and broken pieces, along with the wooden shrapnel of the table. This was the gift that he was graced with, and it would be his one true friend before this night was over he was sure.

Left panting as the magic faded from him, Marco knew he had to find help. In truth he had not killed the creatures. His display of power had only stunned them at best, so he had to be quick. Using his main hand, he took the dagger by its hilt and wrenched it free from his flesh. It was a deep wound, one that would hinder him in the future unless it was taken care of now. Normally, he wouldn't waste one of his back up plans now... but this was a time of crisis. He turned to the windowsill where his coffee was left waiting. Kneeling down to reach his satchel, the boy mage removed a thin vial filled with a vibrant pink substance. A healing potion, if his notes on the subject of Potions had anything to say. While it wasn't as potent as one his master could craft, Marco's would help his own natural healing process along. He uncorked the vial and down the contents, smacking his lips a little afterwards. His eyes widened as he felt a surge of energy run through him. His pain was gone, along with his exhaustion. He tossed aside the vial and went about wrapping his wound up.

Shortly afterwards, he stood in the hall outside of his room with his satchel slung over his unharmed shoulder. He covered his mouth at the sight of the carnage. Dead bodies of his friends, allies, and kinsmen. There was so much blood, it pooled even after being soaked into the carpet. He felt his hands trembling. His whole body was left shaking like a leave in a gale. It brought back that night he had lost his father, the same terror that he felt at seeing his world around him shake and scream like a banshee. He needed help, he hand to run. Someone, somewhere, could protect him. He was just a boy, he had no place in a war. He turned to look over his shoulder as sounds of shuffling came from the pair of creatures he attacked earlier. He gathered what wits were left about him and ran as far as his legs would take him. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell, for help, but all he could manage were the tears flowing down his face.

Drosil had been walking the corridors, feeling much better after getting some good rest, though he feels somewhat disheartened that he'd missed the battle from before. The summoner couldn't help but feel that he'd yet to truly prove himself as anything more than a nuisance and a danger to those around him with his antics. He was finding it difficult to come up with good reasons to stay here instead of just moving on as he usually did cause while he'd had a good adventure, he just didn't feel that he had enough of a stake in this conflict to justify his presence here. Besides, he doubted he could do much good around here, and he still had many ruins to explore while he still had the chance to do so.

As these thoughts and more ran through his mind, Drosil went stock still as a cry carved itself through the air, soon followed by more panicked cries as some commotion seemed to be going on throughout the entirety of the castle. Readying his staff, he sensed his attackers before they struck, having developed a sense of figures in the shadows due to numerous attempts on his life by nobles in the past. The first figure came at him with a knife in a savage rush, but before he got close, he'd find himself sent flying backwards as the shadows that he hid in seemed to come alive, swatting the figure away like a fly. Drosil stood stock still, his eyes rolled into his head as he let out a low chant, each word causing the shadow to gain more form a definition, gaining a vaguely humanoid shape to them as it rose, a soft whispering echoing through the halls as the Shadow elemental spoke it's native tongue. While the sight of this creature would be rather intimidating to most mortal men, these ones didn't seem particularly phased, just charging for all the saw in an attempt to slay the creature, or pass by it to attack it's summoner, who was whispering to himself still. Obviously, he'd make an easy target, since the summons wouldn't be able to stop them all.

A poor judgment on their part, underestimating the power of the shadows.

The first one to try and pass the creature would suddenly find a claw slashing though their throat, soon followed by a savage kick that would she them flying as the creature deftly launched itself off of him, caving in their chest with the force of the strike as it pummeled into another one, ripping out the other man's throat immediately upon impact. The creature then suddenly appeared infront of another figure that was attempting to stab Drosil, grabbing both arms and breaking them with the force of it's grip, before launching a savage kick with it's leg, sending the body flying and causing the arms to be ripped off ass well. These hands would be used to pummel the other attackers, coating the hallway in blood and gore as the assassins found themselves overwhelmed by the otherworldly speed and strength of this creature. Even when they rose again to charge forward, the creature simply decided to take away their means of motion, ripping off limbs and smashing heads without hesitation until their was no one left. Needless to say, this hallway was home to a rather horrific display, as parts of bodies were littered everywhere, all of them twitching and squirming as they tried to complete their final directive. Once all of the threats had been neutralized, the creature faded back into the shadows it had been birthed from and Drosil instantly fell to the floor, feeling rather tired and sickened by the strain of this particular summon and the mess that it had left behind.

I've seen my fair share of monsters, but even this leaves me feeling rather perturbed. . . still, I can't help wondering if I could get a chance to study the magic that afflicts these men. Dark and gruesome it may be, I have no doubt that such magic could possibly be turned towards a better cause.

After making his way from the gore-laden area, the mage tiredly made his way through the castle, finding many a fallen corpse of those less fortunate then him when facing these cruel mockeries of life. His staff held at the ready , Drosil looked into each and every corner, waiting to see where he nest threat would come from. It turns out that the wait wouldn't be long, as two servants suddenly came screaming from a nearby hall, one clinging to her bloodied arm as it hand limply from her side, followed closely by two more men, one who's head hung lopsidedly from his neck by a few pieces of torn tissue and the other having what looked like a spear impaling him through his middle. As the servants ran past, Drosil stood resolute, speaking a few words as he conjured something from the world into his hand. Seeing this, the two assassins quickly closed in, attempting to stop him from casting his spell.

Drosil was only able to summon one item, a medium-sized glowing seed with the sharpness of a dagger to it's edges, which he quickly launched at the nearly-beheaded one, the seed finding purchase in his flesh and quickly letting out a pulse of magical energy, before the seed suddenly began to sprout into a mess of rapidly growing vines. Within seconds, the man was trapped in the mess of vines, held spread eagle above the ground as he struggled to no avail.

The other one, however, had avoid the grasping vines and rushed at Drosil with his blade, the mage being barely able to bring up his staff in time to block the strike. The blow nearly drove him to his kness, however, as he had yet to fully recover from his previous ordeal, not to mention that he was suffering quite a bit of exhaustion from keeping that Shadow Elemental in check earlier. The entire time it had been there, he was keeping it from trying to rush through the castle and killing everyone inside of it. And now he couldn't even switch off with Shadar, as he had to put all of his focus into fending off the assassin's blade, something which was getting harder and harder to do as the fight continued. They had two more clashes before the staff was sent flying out of his hands after a particularly viscous slash from the monstrosity, also succeeding in landing a cut across his arm. The pain burned through him like fire, but he didn't have time to focus on it or even cry out, as he was quick to duck out of the way of a following swipe.

Shit, the one day I don't have my pistol on me, fucking immortal assassins have to show up. . . not that the pistol would do me good right now. Drosil breath came it short huffs, his legs shaking from exertion as his body began to fail, his vision fading in and out as he tried and failed top run away.Dammit . . . that summoning took more out of me than I thought.

As Drosil tried to pick himself back up, he suddenly felt a burst of pain pass through his body, followed only by a numbing cold that spread throughout his limbs. All he had time to do was look down at belly to see the blade sticking out of it, only for the weapon to quickly be withdrawn. He tried to speak, but all the came out were gobs of blood before the man fell to his side, seemingly doomed to bleed out in this hallway this night. The assassin raised his blade, preparing to finish the dying mage and continue on it's way, only for it too notice something strange. Why was the mage smiling in death . . . and were their eyes always such a hypnotic shade of purple?

Suddenly, tendril of shadow wrapped around the assassin's neck, pulling it backwards against the wall, soon followed by a multitude of others as the immortal was soon immobilized by the mass of shadowy flesh, unable to move a solitary muscle as the mage's body was lifted up and enclosed by similar shadows, coating it in a type of armor, with a large amount of the shadows centering over the stab wound, melding with the flesh and slowly knitting it back together, leaving a scar as black as pitch behind as a reminder of the night. The mage walked up to the assassin, with a strangely sultry swing in his hips as he caressed the assassin's face, the smile on it's face being one of bemusement and intrigue.

"Well now. . . aren't you an interesting piece of work. I'm sure Drosil will love to get his claws into you later, but sadly, you'll be this child's plaything for awhile. Good thing there are a lot of you around, or else poor Drosil would be oh so cross." The mage voice carried a strange lilt to it, a sense of duality that echoed in the mind, leaving one feeling as if they were talking to do people at once, one being dominating and seductive, the other being pained and weak. If the assassin was capable of understanding the scene before him, he'd find this change in demeanor most disturbing. " . . .That being said, he does get so cute when he's upset. Makes me want to eat the little darling up. Oh, why must he play such coy games with me all the time."

The mage turned away with a huff, holding his shoulders tightly as a frustrated tone crept into it's voice. . . and then the assassin was gone, dragged off into the depths of the shadow realm the tendrils had come from, to be the 'child's' plaything, while the mage tapped their chin, wondering what they should do now.

"Drosil won't be conscious for a little while, poor dear fainted from the pain of getting stabbed, so I guess I'll just have to walk around in his body for a bit. *Sigh* I was hoping to get a chance to speak with him soon, but oh well, I guess our reunion will have to wait. But while I'm here, might as well make some mischief, maybe get to know that scrumptious Queen he's been eyeing. Or perhaps her equally appetizing brother and sister? The roguish pirate, the stone faced veteran, the innocent prophet and her mysterious companion/possible lover? That one prideful scorpion woman? Maybe even that adorable wolf girl?" As the mage spoke, a noticeable shiver enter their frame, their eyes taking on far off look as a multitude of fantasies past through their mind. Licking their lips, they quickly set off in a random direction, hoping that it would lead them to one of Drosil's companions. "Mmmmm, so many delectable choices, I can barely contain myself. I guess I'll just have to let luck be my guide when it comes to who I meet."

With that though, a low chuckle came from their throat, and from behind them, the shadows responded, the blackness thickening as a multitude of nightmarish beings seemed to claw and stretch the fabric between this world and theirs, eager to breakthrough and wreak havoc, but they soon retreated as the mage waved a hand and gave a command in a commanding whisper. Once the children had quieted down, they continued to make their way through the castle, almost skipping with joy at the chance to wreak some havoc upon the next poor fools to beset them.

"Hold your ground!!" Dalious shouted.

The few men left standing with Dalious had been killing the same assassins over and again, slowly losing their numbers in the process. More of the shadowed immortals had come to join in, causing the fight to last longer than any would have expected. They were trapped in a medium sized room of the castle, boarding up the windows and door as best they could with what little they had. With each successful hole in the wall covered, another was almost immediately being torn down yet again.

"There's no end to them!" one Barcean said in a panicked tone.

"How do we fight what can not be killed?" another asked.

The pirate had no answers for them. He was to busy hacking off their limbs to even think of an end to all of this. All he knew was that they had to keep fighting, until the end. He was no leader of men, but the scared few left in his company still looked to him for a solution. The table that was set upright against the door was starting to falter, with the assassin's blades rapidly piercing through and splintering the wood. One of the company was grabbed by the hair at a window, the top of his head being scalped by the assassin on the other side. The shrill scream from the poor man even gave the self proclaimed fearless pirate a shiver up his spine, leaving him with a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. The assassin let loose the man, who staggered for a bit with no top to his head, then he fell facefirst onto the floor like a dropping rock. Dalious rushed over and drove his katana into the assassin's throat as the shadowed figure tried to enter, then shoved it back out for the moment.

"What do we do?"

"We have to fight through them," Dalious said. "We have to get to the others, to the prince."

"The prince is likely dead already!"

"Nevertheless, what choice do we have?" Dalious said. The pirate stood to the center of the room, the three others remaining with him joining at his sides. They waited with weapons drawn and positions held as the wood from the barricade continuously cracked. "Ready yourselves!"

The doors burst open and in came a horde of the shadowed assassins. Dalious struck the first at the shins, then he rolled by the next and brought his blade in an upstroke, spliting one of them in clear halves. His companions held well for the moment, hacking down the first onslought with relative ease. They kept coming, though, from as far into the dark hallway as could be seen. One of the companions was overwhelmed by three assassins, as they all rushed him and stuck him simultaneously at his gut. The next companion fell seconds later as he was struck at the back, a long blade piercing through his heart and out of his chest.

It was now only Dalious and one other, who both fought back to back and slew a great number of the attackers. One by one the assassins dropped at their hands, only to slowly rise again as more poured into the room. Dalious' companion's hand was cut off by a swift strike, though the momentum of the moment pushed him on. He screamed aloud and rushed the brunt of the foes, tackling those at the door to the ground.

"GO!" he screamed, soon after being cut deeply all across his sprawled out body.

Dalious tossed a knife into one of the assassin's eyes, then dove over the bodies huddled by the door. He quickly rushed to his feet and ran down the hallway toward the outside, only to be halted in his steps. More approached at the end of the hall and those behind him began to rise.

"Should've stayed at sea..." he muttered.

Dalious used his shoulder to bash into one of the side rooms. He ran through it and into the next, finding a staircase that led to more rooms at the upper level. He had never had the chance of wandering the castle prior to this moment, so each room he entered was a gamble. The castle became a dark labrynth from here on, as almost every corner seemed to have more of those things coming from it.

He turned a corner and came face to face with three more attackers. His lungs burnt and his breath was heavy, though he pushed forward. He blocked the first few attacks and then shifted his body to the side, then hacked off one of their heads. He grabbed the headless body before it fell and turned it so it was facing the other two. He drove his katana deep through the corpse and held it up, using it as a shield against the other attacks. With his free hand he let out his hidden gauntlet blade for offense. Dalious managed to pass the other two to the other side, blocking every attack with the flesh from his shishkabob assassin shield. The shield itself reanimated, but all it could do was wave its arms around aimlessly as Dalious carefully backed down the corridor.

More assassins came from the staircase that he had just come from, quickly clogging the dark hallway as they slowly creeped toward the pirate. He stuck one in the throat with his blade, then shoved the flesh shield at the others, toppling them over one another. Dalious moved further down the hall until he tripped over another corpse, though this one was one of the prince's people. From the floor, he looked over to see many of them, all severed and mutilated as far as his eyes could see. He crawled amongst them, trying desperately to get by as the horde slowly approached yet again. He gave one last glance back at the assassins, then grabbed something upright. A leg, he turned back to look up at what appeared to be Drosil, though from his bottom view the mage looked slightly different. There was a purplish glow about him and his eyes looked to be nonhuman from his perspective. Normally the pirate would be joyed to see the man, but something was off.

"Dros..?" he said, suddenly feeling the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach come back to him.

Drosil Maeneld(?)

'Drosil' was able to meet one of their companions sooner than expected, as they stumbled on Dalious crawling along the floor away from more of the immortal assassins, and the sight of the young rouge brought a sultry smile upon the mage's face as the shadowy armor that had developed around him suddenly rushed forward, crashing into the coming horde in the form of a Shadow elemental, the glow of its eye a menacing purple as it tore into the horde with a savage ferocity. While the elemental kept them occupied, 'Drosil' knelt down over Dalious, pulling his chin up with a gentle, but firm hand as they lucked into the man's eyes. Here, Dalious would be able to see well and truly that something was wrong with the mage, as his eyes were not only a completely different color, but were often filled with some sort of glee or excitement, while these violet orbs were filled with only a dark playfulness. In these eyes, Dalious was less like a person and more like a very valuable toy. Or a delectable meal if the lick of the mage's lips were anything to go by.

"Not too bad, I must say, though if you cleaned yourself a bit, I assume it'd be even better. Oh well, the messy look suits your personality well, so I guess it's just a matter of taste." 'Drosil' released their grip on the pirate's chin, only to help them up of the bloodied ground, looking him over once or twice before giving a slight pat on their chest, taking a moment to feel the muscle underneath. "Mmmmm, quite solid too. I wonder how many women have gone to bed nestled against your solid frame. But. . . sadly, I'm not in the place to find out. I'll have to meet you in person for a more intimate experience, but for now, just sit back, deary. I've got work to do, and you'll only get in the way.

With that, 'Drosil' walked away from Dalious with a flourish, indulging in a little spin before turning to face the horde of assassin's, who had managed to subdue the elemental with their superior numbers and were now turning around to attack the two survivors standing in front of them. They offered the menacing force a calm, smile that didn't reach their eyes as they rose their hand, calling forth their staff from nearby on the ground. As the crystalline scepter came into contact with his hand, it immediately changed its form to suit the nature of it's wielder, the base taking on a dark amethyst color that lighten as it went up the staff until it reached the top, where the sphere fused with the base to form a spear-point type protrusion, the tip of which took on a rather ominous glow to it. As the immortals charged, they're smile only widened as they gently placed the tip on the ground, enlarging their own shadow to engulf the entirety of the floor in front of them. The shadow also changed, becoming like a window to an abyss filled with millions upon millions of vibrant lights, all taking on a variety of colors and vibrancies.

It's only when one of these lights neared the view were the truth would be revealed, as the light from the hallway, faint as it was, revealed the form of a long tentacle, which burst through the portal between worlds to grasp one of the charging men, pulling them into the deep, where a behemoth of a squid was waiting, it's beak opening wide to devour the struggling morsel. With this action, blood was in the water, and the feeding frenzy began. More and more horrors of the deep rose forth to capture more morsels from the strange source of light that had invaded their dark abode. One such creature was humanoid in appearance, except for having the head of an angler fish, rising to grasp at the legs of one assassin before pulling him into the deep, where more of his family rushed in to devour the man living. Another sea beast simply rose up to swallow two men whole, it's being looking like that of a shark, but much larger in size.

All of this and more rose from the depths of the abyss to feed and before long, all of the horde had dispersed, dragged away to die a painful depth in the depths of this world. The portal faded back into shadow, which then retreated to reform into 'Drosil's 'shadow. Letting out a breath, the mage wiped their forehead, feeling more than a little fatigued from keeping a gate like that open for so long. Using the staff as more of a crutch at this point, they turned to Dalious, smile on their face as they made a shushing motion.

"Looks like I wanted to show off too much, but alas, I've never been one for subtleties. That being said, this'll have to be a secret between you and me, okay?" At this point, a sudden change would come over them, the smile fading from their lips as the summoner pinned Dalious with their violet eyes, almost paralyzing them with their intensity as magic suddenly flared around them in a violet blaze, their voice clawing itself into his very soul. "You aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even Drosil, about what you've seen just now, nor may you write it down, signal, or otherwise alert anyone to this. It's just a secret between me and you."

With this, Dalious would find himself feeling an immense pressure upon his mind the moment he tried to say or otherwise communicate the events he had witness or the condition of the mage to anyone he met. It would feel as if everything in his body was being compressed till they were about to burst and leave him feeling like he would be unable to do anything. After the spell was cast, 'Drosil's' eyes would close and they'd take a breath. He'd suddenly fall to the ground, barely catching himself with his staff, which would return to its normal state, looking around, Drosil would reach down to his stomach, shocked to find the wound completely healed. The room held a confusing mix of blood and sea water, and Dalious was standing across from him as well. He had no idea what ha just occured after he had been stabbed, but he had a sneaking suspicion of what it might've been.

"D-Dalious, what . . what just happened? LAst thing I remember was getting stabbed through the chest when I was facing one of those immortal assassin's, which I'll assume you've met, and the next thing I know, I'm unharmed and standing with you. . . are you able to tell me what happened here?"

It all had happened faster than he could recollect. In the moment of the otherworldly chaos, all he could do was remain motionless and watch. A heavy disoriented feeling consuming his body and mind, Dalious stared blank eyed in awe at all that had transpired before him. Demons from depths unknown to him seemed to consume the assassins entirely, their forms of beings never before seen by the human eye, as far as he knew. Were they sea monsters pulled from the lowest chasms of the sea? Or creatures from an unknown universe? Perhaps they were seen as they were from his very own imagination? Maybe a mix of all three?

Though he stood quiet before the being that took over Drosil, he felt his mind alone may have been enough to agree with the entity's demand. Whether it be forced upon him or not, sheer fear of the unknown and what could come of it made the man have to agree with keeping a silence on the matter. It was a secret he would keep to the grave, though after what he had just seen he wasn't sure if the grave itself was the end of all things anymore. Besides, even if he wanted to speak of it he was unsure of how to even come about it. He had so many questions he instinctively wanted to ask, perhaps needed to ask, but the vow of silence was more powerful than his own agendas.

It had taken only a mere moment in time for Dalious' complete world to be changed and questioned. Before his brain could sting any more on the events that had just occurred, he realized that the Drosil he knew from his company was back in the room with him and was speaking to him. Dalious glanced around the aftermath once more, seeing the blood and mutilated corpses on the ground. Smelling the unnerving scent of death and sea water mixed together.

"You...must have blacked out," he spoke, still a bit dazed and confused. "They moved on, perhaps called away by whatever created them...perhaps the sound of the castle horns scared them off..." Dalious shook his head and for the first time regained himself in composure and mind. "Perhaps they grew tired of feeling my blade...I know not. Seven hells I need a drink!"

Gray eyes stared out over the city from atop the castle tower as candlelight after candlelight was snuffed out in a wave of darkness as the citizens of the Barcean Capitol went to sleep. No sleep would be coming to Vesta, however, as she wrestled with her ever growing list of worries and complaints as she leaned up against the stone wall. She was wrapped in her northern cloak to warm herself against the night chill, while the flask in her hand added a little extra heat to her cheeks. She stayed there, unmoving, until she felt her leg lock up. Cursing under her breath, she began to turn until a shadow scaling the walls below caught her eye. Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, she opened her mouth to shout just as a scream echoed throughout the castle’s walls.

Even though Vesta had been awake for the start of the attack, the scream very well might have saved her life as she whipped her head to look for the noise just in time to catch a cloaked figure leaping over the tower’s wall. She wasted no time asking questions and moved on the man as he began to brandish a dagger, throwing all of her weight forward to shove the man off balance. She collided with him and heard the dagger tear through her cloak, but she came out of the scrap uninjured. That was not the case for the attacker, however, who plummeted noiselessly until he hit paved path in the gardens below with a sickening splat.

Vesta, after confirming with a look that the man would not be crawling away, grabbed her bow and sword from where she had set them down and threw open the door into the tower. She quickly regretted her decision from earlier to try and cool her head by climbing up the tower, each step confronting her with one perilous challenge after another as her knee groaned and threatened to stop cooperating. Still she pushed herself downwards, cursing underneath her breath with every step. She knew that the others by now were well aware of the attack (judging by the various noises of struggles ringing throughout the area) but Vesta had to make sure that the Queen and her siblings were safe. If they had been harmed, she—she couldn’t even consider the outcome.

Flushed in the face as she hit the bottom of the tower, Vesta stepped out into the gardens. A scant few others bodies littered the walkways between the rose bushes, almost all of them showing the colors of Barcea. This struck Vesta as odd, but she had no time to process what it was about this scene that was so unsettling—despite the obvious fact that, somehow, the entire castle had been caught off guard. Turning towards the royal quarters, the woman began to limp as quickly as she could towards where she hoped the Serio family were safely being guarded.

“Get down!” The voice rang out loud and clear in the cold garden air.

A figure darted out from the shadows brandishing a sizable blade in hand, running towards the woman. Yet, striking behind her with a downward swing. A rather grotesque noise made it clear that the blade had come into contact with a body- a body that the limping woman had passed.

The one holding the blade would be Alice Leon, covered in splattered blood and looking rather disheveled as she pulled the blade from the fallen body. “Sorry Miss Debove. I knew I missed one.” Her green eyes turned back to the body, bringing down the admittedly too-large, sword down on the body again- the head about three quarters of the way off at this point. She rose the blade again, “They are all dead and yet they are walking. They won’t stop until you take off their limbs...I think.” THWACK. The blade came down again with the head finally separating itself and a bit more blood on her person.

Alice wiped what she could off on the sleeve of her leather jacket before facing Vesta, “To the Serios?” Of course that would be their first objective but by the way Vesta was moving Alice had to wonder if she was even going to make it that far.

“Hm,” said Vesta in a half-hearted affirmation, her hand still hovering over the hilt of her blade. Alice had been fortunate that Vesta had recognized her, otherwise the severe woman would have made a grave mistake. Looking at the body, Vesta was able to confirm what the young lady had said was true—for her unknown attacker had been none other than the man she had shoved from the tower. So, the whole damn castle is under attack by creatures like that paladin’s protege, she thought with a frown. It’d probably be better to burn the bodies after all of this is over, just in case.

“We best get to Ayano first, uh,” she said while turning back Alice, pausing as she realized she had forgotten the girl’s name. The look of confusion on Vesta’s face would make this clear; it would also make it clear that Vesta had no intentions of confessing this oversight. She brushed her hair out of her face, “Let’s go.”

Alice felt he smirk building on her lips, forcing it back as best she could as she realized the woman’s lapse. She’d never bring it up as it was not her intent to embarrass but it was amusing none the less. She pushed the thought aside while she eyed the bodies around them- looking for another blade. Her guns were holstered to her body but she’d quickly realized that they would not help her in defeating enemies such as these. When she’d, somehow, gotten one of the things down she’d been able to take it’s blade and gone to work. “Are you going to be alright?” Her eyes lingered on Vesta’s leg. Of course she didn’t mean to insult the woman but this was a matter of safety.

“Let’s worry about more important issues,” said Vesta, swallowing a spiteful retort as she followed the woman’s eyes to her crippled knee. Drawing her sword, she stepped past Alice—making quite the effort to show no pain and to certainly not rely on her scabbard as a cane. After all, the last thing Vesta wanted when the castle was under siege was to have some shrimp trying to coddle her and lend her a shoulder.

With a clench of the jaw and a sucking of the teeth Alice used as much self control as possible to not roll her eyes at the woman. “Alright then Lady Debove. Let’s get going.” The shorter woman kept pace with the knight; if only a half step behind her. She did have to carry the blade up and on her shoulder with the flat side resting against her body; the blade was too large for her and Alice was barely trained with a blade. She was very much so out of her element at this point but she’d be damned if that was going to get in the way of defending the people that allowed her to live in such a beautiful place- even if it was covered in bodies currently.

The two passed the threshold dividing the gardens from the palace, Vesta slowly but surely leading the way through the corridors towards where she assumed Ayano’s room was located. Truth be told, the former brigand only had the vaguest ideas of where she was going; she had not been to the Princess’s room since she was an infant, and she highly doubted that she still resided in a nursery—despite the way Diane treated her. As they walked the duo passed by a number of slain guards and staff, but despite the pools of blood there were no signs of the invaders. Vesta bit her lip as they stalked down the hallways, a cloud of dread hanging over her.

She held up her hand to stop Alice just before they turned into the hallway to the royal chambers. Pressing herself up against the wall, the woman cautiously peaked an eye around the corner and then tucked her head back. Turning to Alice, she spoke in a hushed, stern voice, “A few bastards up ahead. We’ll have to cut our way through. Ready?”

Alice bit back colorful words that were just on the tip of her tongue, “Fuck it. I’m ready.”

Turning around the corner, Vesta drew her bow and fired a few rapid shots at the group of assassins. She doubted the arrows would do little against undying devils, but a few well placed shots could slow them down to make them easier for Alice to deal with. She may not have known the woman’s name, but she did know that she was good enough to at least fight in the Arena. As the first arrow hit the chest of one of the assassins the group of four turned in unison, quickly closing the distance to Vesta. Dropping her bow, the woman snatched up her sword to defend against the assault of oncoming daggers and hoped that Alice was as ready as she flippantly claimed herself to be.

“Oh son of a -” Alice gritted her teeth together as both hands grasped the handle of the too-large blade, grunting as she tried to put as much power as possible into the downward swing. Red flags were going off in her head as she realized how open she was to attacks- even if the blade did land squarely on the nape of one of the thing’s necks. However, it was in the moment that Alice was unable to pull the damn blade from the thing’s still moving body. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

She released the blade altogether; opting for her standard weapons instead. With a pistol in either hand the hallway filled with a series of loud gun shots; ones that took off first the left knee of the thing then the right. Being at such close range give a much higher damage rate- as clearly evident by the entire knee itself no longer being there. The beasts body fell, onto it’s now stubs, and yet still tried to reach towards her. Alice actually saw red for a moment as she emptied the rest of her clips into the area of the shoulder sockets; affectively disarming it. A heavy boot coming up and kicking it squarely in the chest and forcing it to the ground.

Yet, she didn’t stop there as one gun was holstered and the other reloaded a moment later. With her green eyes glowing with faint spell circles her bullets found the key joints of the beast- avoiding any possible shot that could hit Vesta.

“Shit!” cursed Vesta as the gunshots rang out, momentarily deafening her hearing. Still, the other woman did manage to draw some of the heat off of her. Deflecting back a dagger, Vesta slashed a shallow cut across the chest of her closest attacker before turning to avoid the slash of one of the other assassins. She was too slow, however, and the blade grazed her arm—fortunately doing little more than scratching her gambeson. With a growl, Vesta swung her sword with all of her speed and caught her foe in the elbow, forcing him to drop his weapon. Not forgetting about the other attacker, she took a step back as another barrage of bullets echoed down the hallway and slashed at his foot.

Taking another defensive step backwards, Vesta swung again at the joints of the two assassins attacking her. If what Alice said was true, then the strategy she had used to beat Oubera would have to be kicked up a notch—and she wasn’t going to damage her sword hacking through bones. Parrying another barrage of stabs, Vesta twisted and wrapped her free hand around the hilt of the blade buried in one of the assassin’s neck courtesy of Alice. It was buried deep, but she was able to free it after two tugs.

However, in the time it took her to free the weapon the assassin with the slash across his chest was able to close himself in on Vesta. His dagger scraped across her side, and she gritted her teeth as she felt it knick through her armor and draw blood. In retribution, Vesta riposted with her sword and forced the man away as he tried to avoid her blade, putting him just in position for her to swing the blade she borrowed from Alice with all of her might and cleave through the hand wielding his dagger. She did not relent and followed up with another powerful slice, taking his other hand off with one fast lop.

With her pistols placed back into their chest holsters Alice reached behind her for her extending bo staff. She twirled it once in her hands before moving behind the soldier that Vesta was fighting. As soon as the hand was lobbed off she sung the bo staff like a bat-effectively hitting the beast in the head and sending it side long. “Come on Vesta we need to move! Those gunshots must have gotten some attention.” The shorter female condensed the bo staff before grabbing a slightly smaller sword that one of the dead-not-dead soldiers had been carrying and beginning down the hallway.

“Ayano’s room is just around the corner and down the hall. You’re far stronger than I am so can you cover me while I get inside and secure the princess if she isn’t secure already?” The light tone she had earlier was entirely gone as she tried to place her foot fall as lightly as she could manage before stopping at the corner of the final hallway.

“Understood,” said Vesta, catching the change in manner of Alice. “Are you going to be alright?” she added dryly, an unconcerned look on her face as she wiped her blade clean, echoing Alice’s words from earlier. “Princesses can be quite the handful.”

Alice used the back of her hand to wipe away blood that wasn’t her’s as she looked at the taller more imposing woman, “Yeah, I’ll be fine when this is all over. Nothing a stiff drink or two can’t fix.” The humor in her voice died as the sound of fighting broke out around the corner. “Fuck.” She groaned to herself as the guards before Ayano’s door had erupted into battling the dead-not-dead soldiers. “We need to go!” She exclaimed as the now slightly smaller sword in her hand was cocked back to find it’s place in the shoulder of one of the beasts.

Vesta taking control of the situation, gave Alice the perfect chance to get to Ayano’s door and get inside to the princess herself. “Princess, it’s Alice. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

Perhaps if the rest of the castle hadn’t descended into a hell Alice would have appreciated her first glimpse into Ayano’s room a little bit more. After all, even in the dark it was completely clear just how colorful the Princess’ room was. Not only were there paintings of everything from scenes of the Capitol, to views of the castle, to images of the people Ayano knew and loved from her siblings to the Sentinels, and even servants. Each painting was perfectly done, and yet there was a sort of surreal beauty that only the mind of an artist could capture. What could be seen of the walls implied they were once white, but now paints of all colors decorated them.

The room was something that Ayano was proud of, but in that moment the Princess couldn’t think of it. Instead, her face was pale, and she had screamed when Alice had first come through the door, shrinking back near the window. After hearing her voice and giving a sniff, she realized who it was though, and asked in a trembling voice, “M-Ms. Leon? What’s happening? Where’s E-Edward, and Al-Alex-?”

Rather than appreciate the work that was the youngest Serio’s room, Alice glanced over it all to secure it-to make sure nothing bad was going to be happening to the princess within this room. She took a long deep breath before quietly speaking again, “It’ll be alright little Ayano. There is an attack going on right now and I’m sorry but we need to leave, alright? “ she took a step forward towards the girl. “Edward and Alex,” who Alice had put together as the two guards likely dying on the other side of the door, “...are guarding you the best way they know how. They promised me and Miss Vesta that they would make a hole so we could get you to your brother and sister.”

The younger female nodded before reaching a shaking hand out. Alice wiped her hand off as best she could before lightly taking the princess’ into her own. “I’m going to warn you now. It’s going to be loud and we are going to have to move fast okay? If there is anything wrong just squeeze my hand.” Her heart hurt seeing this girl in such a situation. Even still, she led the blind girl to the door before opening it with her sword hand. The two guards, Edward and Alex, were barely standing and yet still fighting alongside Vesta. She swallowed back before opening the door completely and leading Ayano out.

It would take a fool to not realize the dire situation before them. Without thinking Alice pulled the smaller girl towards her and into her arms, “Hold on Princess!”, while doing everything possible to get them out of the immediate battle. “Vesta let’s go! Edward! Alex! Hold them!” She aimed to yell away from the girl’s ears as her right hand rose to block an initial swing of a soldier. She took a step back before barreling onwards until they broke past the initial fighting.

Vesta grunted in acknowledgement, her eyes glancing over to verify Ayano’s safety before they turned back to her quarry. Ducking low and hooking her sword behind one of the assassin’s legs, she shoved her borrowed blade through his fleshy stomach in an attempt to pin him to the ground. The two men fighting shoulder to shoulder with her were wounded and likely would not survive if Vesta abandoned them. Truth be told, she knew nothing about them besides from the fact that they had been trusted to guard the Princess. If she left she might as well bury her sword in them herself. On the flipside, fleshwounds and aching knee aside Vesta was still in fair fighting shape. As the two guards clashed with the other assassins, she glanced over her shoulder to see Alice and Ayano still there.

Alice’s green eyes bore holes into Vesta’s eyes as the plan of attack was formed, “We need to get to The Prince and The Queen.”

“Yes, you do,” she said slowly.

A frown set upon her face It was her sworn duty to Olain to protect his children. She knew that if she went with Alice that Ayano would be safe, but these men would be dead. She lurched forward and parried a slash from one of the assassins; the one on the ground was already beginning to writhe back to life. The path ahead of them was clearer and there would be likely more guards the closer they got to the Queen and the Prince, and Cyril had shown that he could defend himself. Alice also proved herself to be no slouch, and Edward and Alex could still hold a sword. Cyril’s words from days earlier ran through her head: ...I rely on others...I put faith in them.

Damn it, his naivety was infecting her. She stepped forward again, pushing back the assassins as they traded blows with the two guards. Already so many of the Barcean guards were dead. She would ensure within the best of her power that they did not lose anymore as she cut a path clear for the men to follow after Alice and Ayano.

“Edward, Alex, the Queen charged you with protecting the Princess at all costs. You are forbidden from dying until you see that her wishes have been carried out. I'll bring up the rear,” she said, drawing her blade across the neck of a charging assassin and leveling her sword again as another one took its place. “I can’t run as fast as you assholes anyway,” she muttered. And so help me, if I find out that any harm comes to Ayano because of this...

The light from the candles carefully placed around the young girl were giving her just the perfect amount of light to read through the rather lofty, and dusty, book before her. As she’d promised Damon Dubois, she was studying up on the Divines and scratching questions and notes into the blank pages next to her. So far she’d filled at least half a dozen pages with her blocky militant handwriting and with the mind set she had currently, she had more than enough questions and thoughts to fill at least a dozen more.

However, her concentration was broken by the panicked voices rushing past the library’s door. Stark’s body remained perfectly still, only her eyes looking up and through her lashed towards the door. She waited enough moment as her mood shifted entirely. It was far too late for people to be making such a ruckus what was going on?! She practically jumped to her feet when the fear filled screams made their way through to the doors and to her ears.

The book and papers lay forgotten upon the table as the first thoughts came to the forefront of her mind. ’Someone is attacking.’ Followed promptly but her next objective. ’Protect the Serios.’ Without even a shadow of a doubt Stark sprang forth and carefully opened the doors. Her breath caught in her throat as something dark passed by the crack in the door. She waited for it to pass-making sure to listen hard for another one.

When she was sure it had passed just enough to not see her leave the doorway she slowly opened the door before her magic came to life. Water engulfing her arms, up to the socket, before rushing forward and wrapping around the head of the person ahead of her. She’d expected thrashing about or some kind of drowning; this was clearly not the case as the person seemed to stop before turning and moving towards her. Her silver eyes widened before she panicked. With her fingers curved and the palms now facing outward of her extended arms, she pulled them apart.

And with it the man’s head.

The scent of blood filled the air as the body splurted thick old blood from the wound; yet it kept coming!

Stark swallowed back a scream as she forced more water around the body before doing the gesture again. The sound of the body tearing apart made her stomach flip but it finally killed the thing in a pile of blood and body parts on the floor. Her chest heaved in fearful breaths at it was registering to her. No wonder there was so much screaming- their attackers can’t be killed.

This set off a whole other set of alarms in the woman’s head as her feet took her off and into a sprint towards the next closest Serio; if she remembered correctly it would be towards The Queen’s chambers. She was the most powerful person so she would have the most forces heading for her. Her footfall was light, despite the long strides, and only became noticeable when something slammed into her and set her off balance.

Her arms rose with blade like weapons formed in her hands as her slitted eyes narrowed in on the ‘enemy’ that ran...into...her… “Marco?”

He nearly screamed out as he ran headlong into someone's back. He saw the blade rise into the air and knew that he was doomed. He gave a silent prayer to the Divine, in hopes to speed along the process. He tensed, poised for the final blow that would never come. He opened his eyes and released a sigh of relief. "Thank the Divine, Stark!" He cried as he finally caught his breath. It felt like he had a knife in his ribs, despite it being in his offhand right now. He had to tell her about what was going, inform her about the assassins, but he just couldn't form the words. He was left standing there, huffing and sniffing back tears.

"I need your help, please. I don't want to die."

The water blades dissipated as Stark registered that it was not an enemy. She looked down at the younger mage with an odd look. She'd met the boy in passing but she was rather surprised he knew her name. Ah well, questions for another time. His second set of words caused a slight twinge in her chest as a frown made it's way clearly onto her features. "You won't die Marco. Not today, not while I'm here. The castle is under siege and we need to get to the Serio's as quickly as possible. If I remember correctly the Queen's quarters are the ones closest to this location. We are both going to be going there alright?"

She glanced over her shoulder just to double check before giving a soft smile, "It'll be alright, kid. We are both mages, we can do this."

He found comfort in her words, even if they were a lie. He found reassurance in the fact that someone was in charge of everything. The boy quickly dried his face on the back of his hands, even managed to smile a bit. "We are mages and mages do not cry. We find solutions to the problems that everyone else is confused and mystified with." He recited what his master had taught him so long ago, in hopes to steel his resolve. He was still nervous about the creatures. He rolled the knife in his hands, and stole a glance over his shoulder towards where he came from. "From the looks of things, we are at a huge disadvantage," he quickly assessed, "we are caught by surprise and it seems as if the surprises keep coming with each moment."

He lightly tapped at his chin for a brief moment before sighing. He could really see no other way out of this situation besides running for his life, but he didn't want to be seen as a traitor to the Queen. He feel instep behind Stark and kept an eye out for any strange movement. The uproar of combat seem to dim a bit as they rounded the outer walls only to suddenly come wading back the closer the came to the main hallway. "I don't think we should head that way," his fear spoke in a small voice as they neared an intersection. "If we are to get to her majesty swiftly, perhaps the service ways would be best. They are small and cramped, yes, but it would make martial fighting harder and our magic more useful." He voiced his reason as his wits came back to him. He was regaining control with every breath, though it would be a long while before he was came again.

Stark couldn't help but at least smirk at the younger boy. He had heart, that much was clear. "Very well said little one, well said indeed." When he toyed with the knife and glanced over his shoulder to where he'd come from, Stark's eyes narrowed before allowing her smirk to turn into a from. "They surprised us. That's all. We just need to get to the Serio's and protect them, alright?" Stark's eyes still lingered behind Marco for a moment longer before turning and going on ward.

She could hear his steps behind her own, making note to slow down just a fraction so he could keep up. His noting of using the servants passages surprised her though. She hadn't thought of that idea yet, "Do you know how to get there? Do you think they'd even know about those passages at all? We just need to at least get to the Queen and get her to a safe location. If we can do that with those passages it'll give us the upper hand, even if only slightly."

He wasn’t able to answer as heavy foot fall came across echoing down the soon to be not so empty hallway. She acted on instinct as her hand clamped down on Marco’s wrist and they took off towards Kori’s room without so much as a shadow of a doubt of the disaster that is bound to be ahead of them.

Once more, Alasa jumped backwards as one of the assassins again surged towards him. In the same movement he drew another arrow, firing it off through the throat of his closest attacker. Normally it would have been a fatal blow, but the archer already knew that the most he was doing was buying himself a few seconds at most. It was the job of someone like Sampson, who came in from the side, to truly knock the assassin away, which the former soldier did by crushing him against the wall with his shield.

Alasa had been roused by the very first scream, and had leapt to his feet wide awake. He had prepared himself in a matter of seconds, and was out in the hall when the first wave of attackers came through. At first, it had seemed like the fight, though brutal, would be quick... and then those that they had been certain were killed began to get back up again.

With the guards that remained Alasa beat a quick retreat, and soon happened to join up with a group of survivors that Gortul and Sampson had already joined up with. With no idea where any of the other Sentinels were, the three quickly got to work doing their jobs, leading the men around them and fighting the hardest they possibly could. Despite how many Gortul crushed beneath his axe, Sampson sheared through, or Alasa filled with enough arrows to make even a porcupine jealous, they just kept coming.

With the most recent one crushed to the wall and still for a moment, Sampson pulled away and brought up his shield to block a blow that came from another who had tried to strike while he had been distracted. There was no time for a counterattack, but Alasa was free to move, rushing forwards and aiming his bow over Sampson's shoulder, past the Sentinel's shield and into the attacker. Sent reeling back by the arrow that tore through his face, the assassin regained his footing just in time to receive a heavy blow to the chest with Gortul's axe, the normally jolly man for once quite grim faced considering how he knew such a devastating blow would only have so much of an effect on these opponents.

The situation continued to worsen. Though the numbers of the enemy didn't waver, and if anything at all grew, the numbers of Barceans in fighting shape were rapidly dwindling. Even the sharp mind of Alasa couldn't see a way out, at this point; it was one thing to have the idea to hack the enemy to pieces, another thing to actually do it. The guards of Barcea were no slouches, but they were only human-

Yet perhaps there could be a little hope, considering those that the Prince had begun to ally himself with. As suspicious as Alasa may have been towards many of the newcomers, though he would never voice it unless in private with the Prince, he had to admit they had their uses. Doubly so when they kept him from getting gutted, like Calypso did when she suddenly swung down to crash through the window into the hallway, kicking an assassin though the window on the other side of the hallway in the process. She landed close to the ground, hands held forwards against it to keep her from collapsing down onto it entirely with one leg out, looking up to Alasa with her trademark airy smile, though the red in her eyes made it look positively manic.

"Where's Etsuko...~?"

"No idea." Even as he said this Calypso's eyes began to drift away, and the last thing he wanted to do in that moment was to just let her go. He stepped forwards, hand waving out to catch her attention, and keeping it as he said, "Hey! Stay with us, and we'll find her. Splitting up won't do anyone any good here." She seemed to consider his proposal for a moment, before she agreed by suddenly turning to the side, dashing and leaping onto one of the assassins to take him to the ground, beginning to stab repeatedly as she did so.

With one new ally of strength gained, even Alasa felt like they could maybe pull through this, at least long enough to find others to join up with, but once again someone else came to them. Suddenly, a voice boomed through the hallway, sentences punctuated with the heavy cracking of hammers pulverizing bone:

"THE STRINGS OF DANMUN REST HEAVILY UPON YE, YE POOR BASTARDS. STAY STILL FOR A MOMENT, SO THAT I MIGHT SEVER THEM FROM YE AS MANY TIMES AS NECESSARY." The unstoppable juggernaut that was the Divine Paladin made his entrance by sending no less than three attackers crashing through the doors that connected one hallway to the next. The Paladin himself then entered, continuing straight into the thick of the attacking forces, saving the lives of several guards at a time with each swing. Alasa said nothing; he had no need to, not with the Paladin.

Despite even the Paladin's addition, more and more assassins continued to come, perhaps because of the size of their group. This meant that more and more continued to get up, even those that were being smashed into paste by the Paladin.

---

All of the relaxation and self-care that Diane had oh so carefully indulged in that day had been ruined in just a few seconds. It was frustrating to think that all of the time spent in the bath, all of the time indulging in pleasure reading for once, and all the time avoiding the people who made her blood pressure spike now meant nothing, but that was the way life seemed to be going the past couple of days.

Then again, only Diane could think so nonchalantly about the horror going on around her. She was first alerted to it by a scream, one that woke her from her sleep. Quickly she wrapped a robe around her in order to cover the much lighter nightgown she wore to bed, and the next thing she grabbed was her current staff before slipping on her night shoes. Out into the hallway she stepped, and did the thing any healer would; she followed the screams.

She arrived in time to see one assassin finish off the third servant in a row, and her eyes narrowed. Diane wasn't that good of a fighter, and yet she showed no fear simply because she had one trick that, if she pulled it off, it always worked. When the assassin turned towards her next, she brought her staff up with both hands, hopping back one step to avoid the swipe of a dagger, before planting both feet firmly on the ground and swinging.

The staff crashed against the assassin's head, shattering and sending him tumbling to the side and crashing into the wall. Giving a slight disdainful sniff, the healer turned, beginning to walk away calmly as she kept a hold of the base part of her staff... But then she froze, eyes widened in angry confusion as she turned to look over her shoulder, seeing the assassin rise once again. Despite the situation, she wasn't scared; she was extremely irritated.

"You have got to be kidding me! That always works!"

Sword found assassin swiftly, cleaving it through its torso horizontally. If there was one person she could say she liked from this place, it was Diane. She wasn't going to stand by and watch the poor woman be killed because she couldn't fight. It was normally strength that caused Thuraya to draw closer to others, but with Diane, it was almost like a debt. She'd healed her well enough that her recovery was much more hasty than any other had been, that was enough for Thuraya to trust her. Hand rose and brushed silver locks from in front of her eyes and she gave the smallest of smiles.

"Loved the idea, though I've got to say, the fact he got back up..." she paused, and allowed her lips to form a bit of a smirk, "Could've been executed a little better, don't you think?" Thuraya motioned then, for Diane to come with her. The look in her eyes was a tired one. She hadn't slept yet at all that night and barely did the night before, opting instead to lay outside, looking up at the stars. Unfortunately, the sound of screaming had interrupted her stargazing session that night and she wasn't in a good mood for it in the slightest.

"I'm sure others around could use your skills. I, on the other hand, offer my assistance in protecting you."

The angry, irritated look in Diane's eyes was completely replaced by confusion as the assassin fell into two pieces, though it faded some as she looked to Thuraya. For a moment she didn't know what to say, and then she bristled as Thuraya's tease came through. Once more, she gave a sort of disdained sniff, looking to the side as she said, "Hmph, it normally works..."

And then her gaze snapped back to the assassin on the ground. Even in half, something that would have easily killed a man, the... thing was beginning to move once again, crawling forward. Giving a displeased hiss Diane stepped forwards, before swinging up what was left of her staff to begin hammering it down onto the thing's head again and again.

"Speaking of executing things better, HMPH!"

Emerald gaze dropped to the assassin as Diane hit it's head again. She snarled and let her blade drop onto it's neck, then arms, detaching them. "On the up hand.. It's in pieces now~!" her smirk returned and she turned then, motioning for the healer to follow. "We should find the survivors though. Make sure they stay that way." eyes shifted around, trying to notice if anything in their immediate area was off, to give a lead of some sort for them of where to go. She still didn't know the place very well yet though and instead, decided to indirectly admit that; "Lead the way..." her body language showed, however, that even if Diane lead, Thuraya would not get too far ahead or behind, keeping all sides of the healer in her blade's range if anything decided to pop up around her.

With the attacker dealt with quite brutally by both the healer and warrior (though Thuraya's strategy and weapon was certainly more effective for the situation at hand), Diane quickly straightened with another huff. Briefly she reached up to make sure the bows in her hair were still on properly, before her eyes widened as she turned. She knew immediately where she wanted to go; to Ayano, and the other royals, but most importantly towards the direction of the room of the Princess.

"Fine then. Come with me."

---

The Wanderer had gotten his hour of sleep early on in the night, and when he woke up to see his travelling companion passed out in the room with him he quietly made his exit. He began his time awake that night simply following the circle of the castle, sometimes switching between the outer and inner circles, and other times passing through the gardens. He enjoyed how quiet the castle was, how few were travelling throughout the space like he was; it gave him a chance to think.

He realized something was wrong before the screaming began, coming to a stop in the middle of the garden. He slowly looked over to his shoulder, one hand going to gently hold his sheathed blade before he quietly and very politely said, "He knows that you're here already. Please, come out so that we may get started." He didn't receive a verbal response, but four assassins shifted to easily be seen, dropping from trees and emerging from behind thick bushes.

He smiled almost ruefully, looking at the one who stood directly in front of him before briefly looking to both sides. His hand remained where it was, still, but then he asked, "Is there anyone who wishes to leave now? He will let you go without violence." Once more the response he received was not verbal, but through action, as all four assassins leapt forwards to try and cut him down before he could move. If they had been fighting a normal soldier, it would have been a good strategy....

But Joachim was no normal soldier. The moment before they reached him he leapt upwards, shooting up and out of their reach, high above. On his descent he drew his blade, spinning and swinging it around to bring it down upon the first assassin he landed upon, crushing him to the ground; it would have been a lethal blow if the Wanderer had used the bladed edge, but instead he had used the blunt backside of the blade. This meant bones were crushed, rather than sliced through.

As he rose Joachim brought his sheath up with his left hand, using it to block a strike from the next assassin. Even as the blade clashed upon the smooth metal with a heavy noise, the screams began to sound out throughout the castle. Briefly, Joachim winced, but in that moment he had to focus on himself... Which was why he sent the hilt of his blade into the stomach of the opponent he had just blocked with more than enough force to cause the assassin's body to curl in as he was sent flying off his feet.

Running steps would be heard before who owned the feet would be seen, along with the sounds of blade entering and exiting body. First seen would be one such body being flung from the ground past the corner of a wall followed by a slender woman on her feet. Steps were slowed when her eye caught sight of more of the assassins around Joachim. She looked toward her previous path and sighed, shaking her head. Long strides took her closer to him and his opponents, twirling her halberd-like axe to have it smash into one of the assassins, only to lift out of them and swing into the next knocking them away.

"Quickly now." was all she said, as she looked back toward the location she'd come from. The assassins she'd struck down, after her once more. "I cannot count the number I've struck down nor tell if they are but the same ones as at first." Axe at the ready, her mind was on the wellbeing of Kori, Ayano and Cyril, yet could not simply leave others to die as so many she'd seen within the castle. "Though one would say it may not be worth to fight if they simply stand once more; surely it will slow their advances." eye shifted to see if he agreed or not, then shifted back to the assassins, axe twirling once more, tightening in her grasp, as her other hand hovered above a knife at her hip.

Joachim blinked at the sight of the elf, briefly glancing over to her. The elf had taken care of the last two assassins, at least she should have... But then they began to rise once again, and more were coming from where she had come from. Even the ones that Joachim had delivered crippling blows to were getting back up, though they moved with jerky, uncertain movements. His brow furrowed slightly, before he brought his blade over to sheath once again, sliding his foot back.

"So they get back up when killed, hm...? Well, so long as he isn't the one killing them..."

He shot forwards then a blur moving low across the ground. Straight towards the group that were entering from the direction that Krissandra had come from he went, before suddenly drawing his blade and slicing in the same motion. Easily his weapon cut through the assassin, cutting through it in a diagonal slash that sent both parts spinning away from one another. Joachim left the ground as he too spun, lashing out with both sword and sheath as he shot through the middle of the group. Cracks sounded out as the sheath hit multiple times, and limbs and body parts were sent flying as he carved through with frightening ease, the cut edges burning with a deep purple energy.

She watched his movements only for a moment before Krissandria's attention was taken by the sound of movement close-by. Her eye shifted downward as the one she'd cleaved down with her axe started standing again, as did the others. She took a few steps backward to give herself some distance then, right foot's toes pointed toward her opponent left back, to the side. Her posture straightened and her right hand grasped the long handle of her axe before she shot forward with incredible speed.

She turned to her left to have her axe fly horizontally with great power and little effort. It caught its target mid-torso, she flung him around and into the next target. They collided and she drew the knife at her hip as axe pulled to the right, letting the targets free of its grasp before she swung even harder, the axe cleaving through one cleanly and having to be pulled harder through the second. Her left hand moved to slightly behind herself and shoved the knife upward through the gut of the third.

Eye shifted, looking for the fourth. The three around her fell, and she caught a glimpse of the movement heading in Joachim's direction. She took her knife back from the third assassin's body and made way quickly toward her ally, axe swinging, the spike at its top barely missing Joachim's head as she caught the neck of her target with its main blade. "Suggestions? We cannot simply stay here. If our enemy continues to rise after being brought down we will not last. And if more arrive, in time we will tire and become overwhelmed." She kicked the body of the assassin away, and its head the other direction, choosing to stand with her back to Joachim, watching the bodies she'd taken down as they twitched, threatening to get back up again.

Even as Krissandria came to a stop against Joachim's back he also came to a stop, holding his blade up above his head to block another attack from an attacker that came at the side with a blade, easily disarming the weapon with a twisting movement and then disarming the attacker as well. Briefly he glanced back to her, and even in the middle of battle his attention seemed to drift away slightly, as he began to think.

"Yes... We must keep your energy in mind..." For a little he was silent, before he shook his head slightly, and then straightened. "During the God King War, he and his allies were often outnumbered. In his case it happened almost every day, as he rarely didn't work alone. The strategy that he and his allies often adopted was to turn our back to our opponents if we were certain we could outrun them, letting them chase us until the fastest eventually reached us, separated from their allies, before we cut them down. Do you think you are fast enough to outrun these?"

Krissandria thought of the movements of each one she'd seen thus far. She thought of their initial speed, and then that of those which had been struck down and gotten back up. Of course, she had no idea if the ones she'd met with on her way to this location were unharmed or if they'd risen from after combat, but with the knowledge she did have, "Yes. I believe I will be able to without much if any difficulty." A quick nod of confirmation that she could, and that she understood what he had explained. "Shall we then? We haven't much time before they get back up." her posture dropped slightly and she slid the knife back into its sheath, her axe twirling downward so the point on top barely touched the ground, and the handle came up behind her, between herself and Joachim.

Slowly, the Wanderer nodded. "Very well then." He shifted some, foot going back as he lowered himself to the ground, blade spinning once before he brought it down, beginning to slide it home into its sheath... And when it clicked home he suddenly spoke, voice raised as he ordered, "Move!"

Like a dark flash eh was off. Before she could truly begin moving he had already reached the doors that led from the courtyard, which he kicked open easily despite his small size. Even if it would have been easy for him to shoot down the hallway there he turned, facing her and swinging his free hand towards the doorway, saying, "Come! We must find all we can!"

She felt him move from is place behind her, and she was close to follow. As the doors were opened and he turned back to her, she nodded. Axe lifted slightly from its graze along the ground as she came closer to him. Honestly, she wasn't too much slower than him, and when starting down the hall she kept up quite well. Her thoughts still with Kori and the other royals, she'd sworn her life to protect all, and surely they were being protected by now by the others. He was right, they had to find the others and make sure everyone was safe. Eye closed for only a moment, before opening with a look of much more determination. The Wanderer's careful eye had watched her in these moments, before looking back forwards as he once more put on the speed, leading the way with carnage against the assassins who lunged in front of them.

---

It was in that moment that the world went sideways for Drosil. It happened quite suddenly, and then something thin snaked around his ankle in an instant, coiling tightly around him. With a sharp sudden yank before he could react, his foot was harshly yanked backwards, before he was taken off his feet entirely. Away from Dalious he was dragged, past the gore that had been left behind by the rampage the mage couldn't remember. Into the dark hallway he went, disappearing around a corner as he was dragged away. It would be soon after that the world would go dark for Drosil, and he would simply disappear.

When Drosil awoke, it was probably because of the cold night air that cut by in a sharp breeze. Clearly he was no longer inside, but just where outside would take a bit of looking around. Only then would he realize that he had been taken, somehow, to the top of the outer wall of the castle, and more importantly he wasn't alone. The woman who had introduced herself as the Advisor at the confrontation in the Great Cracks stood a few yards away, turned towards the inner wall. She stood with her arms crossed, and though the stone of the inner walls blocked any normal vision, with the way her eyes gleamed above the half mask that covered the lower half of her face it was almost as if she could see the carnage going on. The way her fingers twitched ever so often, hands moving almost as if she were resisting the urge to conduct music then and there...

Slowly though, she looked over and down to Drosil, her eyes slowly narrowing. Her hands kept twitching and moving, but otherwise she remained completely still as she looked over, saying, "You're finally awake, hm? Certainly took you long enough."

"Yes… I think I'll join you in th-" was all Drosil managed to get out before he sudden felt something coil around his ankle, thin yet strong, his foot coming out from beneath him as the tendril dragged him away into the darkness. So sudden and violent was the event that his staff fell from his hands, and even as he tried to grab at it, he was already much too far away to do so. The gore painted the bottom of his cloak ever further in red as he was taken away. He attempted to grab at the corner, trying to hold on and pull himself away from whatever held onto him. He reached out towards Dalious, his eyes wide with fear.

". . .Help."

And then his grip gave out, his head clipped of the edge of the stone as he was pulled away, and once more the mage knew only darkness as his mind faded into the void, except this time, nothing came to take his place. For however long that he was out, he spent his time in dreamless sleep, seeing and feeling nothing. In this moment, he couldn't help but wonder, was this what happened when he and Shadar switched bodies. Nothingness that seemed to go on for both an eternity and a second. He wondered this thought for many a second long century, until his body finally began to stir. His body felt stiff, and the cold wind cut through his blood-stained clothes like a knife. As he rose up, he took a look around, taking in the sights of the castle walls, the night sky, and city beyond, before turning around to see the Advisor that Shadar had spotted at the Great Cracks.

"Well . . . I guess we know who to thank for tonight's horrors. That being said, would you mind telling me how you managed the feat of making immortal soldiers like that? Along with the whole shadowy-tendril-teleportation thing, which I must say, is a terrible way to travel." Drosil said, rising up slowly with a nervous smile on his face. His knees were shaking slightly from the strain of it, but he managed to keep himself up well enough. While he tried to hide it, Drosil knew he was in a bad spot. He was missing both his staff and his pistol, not to mention he was likely facing what was obviously a powerful magic user. He could switch to Shadar, but since he didn't know who he was facing . . . it was likely that he could be sending him to his death. Right now, he has to stay calm and try and bide fortune until he figured out a plan.

"And now that you're awake, you're talking too much. How typical." To begin with, the questions of the Jasian mage were completely ignored, and for a few more moments he was ignored entirely as her gaze once more turned towards the inner wall. Though he couldn't see the lower half of the face, the way her eyes both narrowed and gleamed told him that underneath her mask there was undoubtedly some sort of satisfied smile, or perhaps a satisfied smirk. The moment passed though, her looking back towards him once again to speak.

"Both of your questions have the same answer, and I'm surprised you don't know it already. Then again, this is undoubtedly your first contact with a known and unhidden Divineborn, so perhaps you don't know the extent of the power we can obtain." Slowly, the Advisor gave a simple shrug. "You assume too much, though; simply because they are moving does not mean they are still alive. To you, though, that doesn't matter in the moment. What matters is that the only reason why I'm keeping you alive is because you are a Divineborn, and therefore you have potential. I'm going to give you my offer once, and only once. If you say something other than yes when I am finished, then I will simply kill you. If you say yes, then you will survive. These are the only two outcomes."

Slowly, she continued to turn towards him, finally. "I am a part of a certain organization of Divineborn. Together we make up the most powerful and influential force that has existed for millennia. If you join us, then you will become a part of us, and we'll teach you things you couldn't dream of learning otherwise. If you do not join us, then it is of no consequence; we have more than enough to complete our objective. So then, will you join us, or will you choose to die here?"

To say that Drosil was a bit shocked by what this woman had told him would be a bit of an understatement, as it halted all thought processes and left him thrown for quite the loop. He thought he'd go his entire life without seeing another Divineborn, and yet one stood before him now. He didn't know what to say, but then the woman had the decency to make it easy for him with an ultimatum that boiled down to 'Say yes or die, most likely in agony'.

At least she knows how to keep things simple, Drosil thought, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way out of this, but not only could he not come up with anything solid . . . but the woman's offer was quite tempting. He wanted to know what she knew, learn how she was able to make these walking corpses and what not. The amount of draw she had on him was intoxicating, as his very essence was one that strived to take hold of every morsel of knowledge they could find. No source had been too dark or dangerous for him to turn too, and while that had led him to many a predicament, he was relatively unharmed, unchanged by his ventures, wasn't he? He could simply learn what they wanted of him and go on his way, right?

In the back of his mind, he heard a voice screaming at him not to join this woman, to die here rather than entangle himself in what could only be something dark and evil. But, as has always been the case, his hunger for knowledge and power that had been inside him ever since he was a young orphan looking up at the noble palaces in the heart of Jasi was stronger than the noble heart he had been born with. Ambition gleamed in his eyes as he took a step forward, his mind having been set in this direction. May the Divines have mercy on his soul.

"If you can truly give me what you offer . . . then I'll join this organization of yours. It would be nice to learn more about what it truly means to be a Divineborn and what I can do." Drosil said, before looking around at his surroundings, wondering a few things, hoping the others would be all right. He considered asking the woman to call off her nightmarish soldiers, but thought better of it, knowing that in all honesty, she was unlikely to listen to him, and he didn't want to make the situation worse for them. "So, what happens now? Do I stay with my companions here or are you going to take me away to your base of operations? And do you allow pets, cause I'd be heartbroken if Sir Mauls was to be left behind."

Slowly the Advisor's gaze narrowed, as if she were trying to make absolutely certain he meant what he said, before she slowly nodded. "Very well then. It's beneficial that yo have already begun striking a rapport with the Serios; we'll take advantage of that and-"

She never finished what she was saying, instead whirling to face towards the inner circle once again. Her eyes had widened sharply, and then suddenly she looked over towards the direction of the main entrance. Whatever it was she had sensed, it had set her on edge, before she hissed; "Damn, the Demoness has sent her Hunter..." Without another glance to Drosil, her hand shot back. It suddenly came to a stop as if it struck something hard, and then there was a sound like glass shattering. The very air behind her seemed to crumble, falling to pieces in shards like something physical, revealing a gaping maw of darkness. Through this she stepped, and even as she stepped through the "pieces" of the air that had "fallen" surged back up and into place, sealing as if she had never been there at all.

---

What had made the Advisor decide to make this sudden retreat wouldn't be apparent, at least not immediately. For a full thirty seconds the fighting below continued uninterrupted... But when the change happened, it happened in a moment throughout the entire castle.

What Alasa saw was the same thing that happened through the entire castle. The assassins were continuing their relentless attack, carving men and women down left and right even as they suffered what should have been mortal wounds time and time again. However, in one instant they all stopped, all at once. It didn't seem to be a willing stop on their part, because even as they suddenly surged to a stop they strained, as if they were being held back... and for a second, Alasa could see what the cause was.

They shone brightly, wrapped around all of the assassins at critical points like the joints or the meetings of limbs. Coiled tightly, the substance seemed to be some sort of wire... And then, suddenly, it tightened ever further. In that moment the assassin's came apart, simultaneously not just dismembered but sliced into pieces. The carving made by the wires were surprisingly smooth, but that did little to prevent blood and gore from flying in all directions.

The wires waved back and forth through the air, loud hisses made by their quick movements. Where they came from wasn't apparent, as they seemed to be continuous with all of its strands that looped back and forth. However, suddenly they lunged by, passing by almost terrifyingly close towards all of the Barceans in the hallways as they made their way through, disappearing from sight around corners.

For the most part, things in the castle were silent once again, at least for a brief moment. However, Alasa was one of the first

While nearly all the assassins throughout the entire castle were decimated in an instant, in one area they lingered for a while longer. Those near Kori's room continued their assault, and the Prince was beginning to get tired. He had no choice but to hold the door, and keep the attackers from surging through, but keeping even this chokepoint held was beginning to take its hold.

Relief came suddenly as these assassins too were brought to a halt before cut to ribbons. The Prince was able to thankfully leap away even as the gore splattered inwards into the Queen's room, making the floor both slick and sticky. For a moment the Prince had no idea what happened, but then he looked up as he heard footsteps decisively clicking through the hallway.

The man who emerged from around the corner was the one who Etsuko had met a few days ago, and yet the spark of recognition entered the Prince's eyes as well at the sight of him, his voice crying out, "Richard!" The butler continued his approach at the same speed, hands held behind him. He was clearly the source of the wires, as they waved and curved through the air around him. Very rapidly they began drawing in towards and around him, assumedly going to his hands behind his back. When they were gone, he brought one hand up, adjusting his monocle slightly as he observed his handiwork, noting how despite their total destruction twitches still went through the pieces that had once been assassins, before finally going still.

"My, my, my. It seems like you've let the castle go a little, Prince Serio." He walked through the blood calmly, but he blinked some in surprise as the relieved Prince stepped forwards, gripping the old man's arm.

"It's good to see you, my friend! Especially now, of all times." When he released Richard's hand the butler straightened his sleeve some, giving a nod.

"Think nothing of it, Prince Serio. Simply doing my duty as a servant of my mistress. Come, let us go speak with the Queen." Richard led the way, entering the room fully with Cyril behind him. At the sight of him Kori relaxed, dropping her weapons onto a nightstand as she made her way over at a brisk pace.

"Thank you, Richard, for once again helping us." The Queen came to a stop and only then did Richard bow, smiling politely as he straightened once more to his full height, one hand resting lightly upon his chest from his bow.

"Of course, Queen Serio. It is good to see you alive and well."

"Do you know-?"

"Princess Serio is fine, as are all of your Sentinels, and your guests. I managed to arrive in time before anything could happen to them, but I am sorry I didn't arrive sooner to save more. Please, forgive this old servant."

"I'm glad you did as much as you did, Richard. Thank you, truly." The Queen was slowly but surely relaxing, sighing gently as she turned to head towards one of her chairs. As she did so Richard's gaze passed towards the last person in the room, giving the Diviner the same polite smile he gave the royals, bowing his head.

"And good evening to you, Ms. Tanaka."

Etsuko looked up her lap where she had been wringing her wrists and biting her lip nervously. She was trying so hard not to shake, but the entire situation was absolutely terrifying and being unable to do anything just made it worse. She gave Richard a shaky smile, trying not to burst into tears.

"G-Good evening, M-Mr. Richard."

The butler's gaze then turned back to the royals, watching as Cyril went to Kori. After a moment he stepped forwards to say, quite calmly, "I think it's clear from tonight that the Capitol is no longer as safe as it once was. Fortunately, part of the reason why I'm here tonight is that my mistress is offering you sanctuary in her home."

"I see..." Kori said this quietly, looking down briefly. Cyril watched her, and his eyes widened especially as she kept silent, before he sat up straight.

"No, Kori. No, no, no, don't you dare-"

"I can't leave now, Cyril. If I leave now, after an attack on the castle, it would show the people just how dire the situation is. If I have no faith in my own defenses... It would cause a panic, Cyril. Who knows what might happen, and how Gartian will take advantage of it. I can't leave so soon..." Her hands went over, gently grasping her brother's. "But you and Ayano can, and should. Leave tomorrow, and go to Lady Renata. Do it for me, and do it to protect Ayano. I will leave once the situation in the Capitol has calmed after the spreading of the news tomorrow." When Cyril tried to speak, Kori gave a light shake of her head to silence him, saying, "No arguing, Cyril. I need you to do this."

Seconds passed in silence, before Cyril slowly nodded. "Fine... We'll go. But you better be right behind us."

Kori gave a small smile with her nod. "Of course, Cyril... Go, find your Sentinels, and let them know. They will need to get as much rest as they possibly can between now and the morning... And we need to speak tomorrow, before you leave."

"To the Lady of Demons, then?" The voice was new, and belonged to the Direwolf as he entered, followed closely behind by Christopher (Chikako, meanwhile, remained outside). While Christopher seemed focused on the amount of gore that he saw not just here but on the way as well, Alsius only looked towards the Queen as he asked, "And what would you have me do, my Queen?"

"Please, go with them Alsius. I'd feel much better if you were with them. I have the Queensguard to protect me."

"Very well then." The Direwolf gave a nod, before turning to make his exit, already pulling out a cigarette.

Upon seeing a familiar face, one that she was quite comfortable with, Etsuko immediately stood up and ran to Christopher. Her arms wrapped around him tightly as she buried her face in his chest, the tears that were threatening to spill earlier doing so now.

"O-Oh thank the Divines you're okay!"

Christopher jumped in surprise, almost staggering back thanks to Etsuko. However, he brought one hand up, awkwardly patting it on her back as he said, "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

She nodded her head a little, her eyes shut tight. Etsuko didn't want to look up, but she held onto him, hoping that her body would stop shaking. Even as Christopher continued to awkwardly pat her back, Cyril's gaze was stony as he looked towards the doorway, considering even now the decision that was made. As he stepped forwards once more Kori's hand went up, stopping him again briefly.

"Wait, Cyril. Another thing; take some others with you, people like Marco Maxwell. They'll definitely be safer as well."

"It'll be done."

---

The Road East

To some it may have been confusing that both Cyril and Kori trusted not just Richard immediately, but the offer of the Lady of Demons as well. Many would not have even heard of her, and more than likely those that did would have been somewhat wary. Indeed, the attitude of the Serios towards her hospitality was perhaps unique in comparison to everyone else, especially other royal families when thinking in regards to the rest of the East...

And yet they still trusted her, for all that she had done not just for them, but their family throughout the generations. Whatever she did the Serios didn't reveal, but apparently it was enough for her to be trusted as a stalwart ally, and one to seek refuge with. This was the reason why the group woke early the day after the horrific attack, preparing quickly and making their way east. They left early for two reasons; the first to make good time, and the second to have two of the three royals leave before most of the population was awake to see.

Before leaving, the Queen and Prince had one last meeting before joining with everyone who would be making the trip, where the brother would part from his older sister. Once more, Kori gave her siblings a personal farewell, before bidding goodbye to the others and returning to the castle. With Richard Leto leaving the way, the group quickly but quietly left the Capitol on horseback, turning and making their way east. The trip would take two days, and Cyril already had a stopping point in mind.

Etsuko was one of the few, probably the only one besides the Serios, who didn't seem wary of going to the Lady of Demons. In fact, it was a welcome diversion from the horrific attack. She was happy to see that Calypso had come out of the attack unharmed and even happier that most were alright.

The stopping point that Cyril had in mind was a circular village. In the center of this circular village was a large building where a lot of people were coming in and out. Upon entering the building, there would be a woman at a podium, chatting rather happily with customers. She was leaning against the podium, her chin resting on her gloved hand and she had a constant smile on her face. Her hair was long and a platinum blonde, an olive green cap covering her head. When the door opened and she heard guests enter, she looked up and stood straight, her smile becoming a grin.

"Cyril! You're back! And you've brought so many new faces!"

When the group entered the inn, which it so obviously was, the Prince relaxed for the first time since the night before. So at edge he had been that seeing him calmer was a surprising sight. He smiled in the direction of the platinum blonde woman, approaching as he spoke, saying, "Hello, Kasumi. Yes, we're passing our way through. We might need a whole floor to be entirely honest, if you can manage it. We'd appreciate the privacy."

The woman named Kasumi left the podium, thus revealing the rest of her outfit. She was dressed mainly in olives and blacks, her open jacket and very short skirt being olive green and her bra and knee high boots being black.

"Of course, of course~ Just give me a few minutes to get everything all set! Meanwhile, you're all free to head into the dining room, where the food is hot and the beer is cold. Unless, of course, you'd rather have me provide you with some other items~"

She winked--mainly at the females of the group (something that made the ever airy Calypso seem brought back to reality briefly)--before giggling and turning to head up a staircase by the podium. The dining area was to the left of the podium, where villagers and guests alike were gathered around tables. Finding an empty spot would be difficult, but everyone seemed friendly enough to move over a few spaces. The bar was located towards a far right wall, also crowded with guests and villagers. The woman tending the bar had long black hair and was wearing a more feminine version of a suit. She looked up every once in a while and, having caught Cyril's blue hair, smiled to herself before going to serve more drinks.

The Prince, meanwhile, looked back to the group. After a moment of being silent he gave a nod, gesturing towards the direction of the dining room as he said, "We're safe here, everyone, so feel free to relax a little. Chiyo and Kasumi are good people, good friends, and they'll take care of us. Just be ready to leave tomorrow morning."

Though what Cyril said was a dismissal of them all, it was really just a way to excuse himself. He turned, making his way into the dining room himself, moving as if he knew where he was going, and straight to the bar he went. However, the Prince wasn't intent on indulging in any alcohol that night; instead, he went to go sit in front of the barkeep herself, smiling some.

"Good evening, Chiyo. It's good to see you."

Those who were directly in front of the barkeep at the time started to leave, giving her grins and whistling encouragement; those came from the villagers, the guests simply followed suit, not understanding why there was a sudden migration away from the pretty barkeep. Chiyo smiled when the Prince seated himself directly in front of her.

"Good evening Cyril. Always making sure to keep us busy, aren't you."

"I do my very best to support small, family owned businesses whenever I can." At her smile Cyril's grew a little bit more, before it began to slowly fall. It didn't quite disappear though, the Prince just sighing as he looked to the side for a second, thinking before saying, "Really, we're just passing through. We're going to keep heading east tomorrow morning, to visit... a friend of the family in the mountains."

She giggled a bit as she started shaking a drink for a patron. "Well we do appreciate your business." Even while she mixed the drink, she noticed his body language, looking up as she poured the drink and then slid the glass down the bar (she already knew it would make it into the patron's hand). "Something tells me this is very serious."

He just gave a slight nod, gaze down on the bar in front of them, one hand tapping ever slightly against the surface. "... Yes. Very, very serious."

She placed a hand on top of his, her eyes showing clear concern. "Tell me later?"

For just a moment he was still, and then his other hand went over hers in return, looking up as he nodded slightly. "Yes, I will."

She smiled as she nodded, going back to mixing drinks. "Anything to eat? You must be hungry from your journey."

He gave a slight not, but even as he did so he gestured slightly behind him, not even looking to see who had followed him into the dining room, and who didn't. "Yes, but please attend to everyone else soon. My night is probably going to be later than theirs, so I can wait a little."

She nodded slowly, knowing full well that the Prince would say something like that. "As long as you don't starve yourself."

Kasumi had come back down the stairs, smiling at those who hadn't gone into the dining room. "Everyone who wants a bed now, follow me~"

It was the eighth day since the slaughter along the western borders.

Dalious was unable to put the whiskey down after everything happened with Drosil. The un-killable psycho assassins were one thing, but seeing magic in such a pure form was another. The entire time of travel, all he could do was think about it, while drinking from his flasks quite often. He kept to his own thoughts, even humming a few tunes along the way, but rarely spoke out of fear he would turn into a frog or something. He wasn't fully aware of how magic actually worked, he only knew he couldn't control or stop it. Therefore, he hated it.

Hearing someone murmur quietly in his ear, he quickly turned to them with an eyebrow slightly raised. "I do not know what happened!" he spat. "I saw nothing, damn you!" It was in this moment that he realized the person he was talking to wasn't even paying attention to him up until now, as they gave off a confused look. "Uhm, I mean nothing." He quietly snapped the reigns on Stealthion so that he may trot a bit faster, pulling his hood over his head and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

By the time they reached the village, he had calmed down greatly, as now he was feeling the booze along with the soft breeze of the air around them. He quickly chose the path that lead to more liquor once the option was there, and so followed the prince. While Cyril was in conversation, the pirate couldn't help but to check out the barmaiden's breasts the entire time.

"That he can," Dalious said. "Unfortunately, waiting is not within my skill sets when there is whiskey to be had. Three whiskeys!" He gave a slight head motion as if to tell the barmaiden to put the tab on the prince. "...I'm with him." After the whiskeys were set in front of him, he pounded them each down one after another without a single change in his face, he simply just stared at the woman on the other side until the task was complete. "And a pint of ale, my lady."

He wasn't sure if it was five minutes later, twenty, an hour, or even if it was the very next moment, but he somehow found himself huddled around a corner with a few others laughing about things and stories he could not remember. There was a target on one of the back walls with everyone throwing daggers and knives at it. Stumbling over a lass, he made it back to his feet and was handed a few knives.

"He can't even stand straight!!" he heard one say, but rather get a glimpse of the man he only caught wiff off his foul drunk breath.

"I need not stand straight, when my world revolves around me," He said. "Besides mate, I've seen a shark eat a man whole, true story."

"Throw already!"

Before the man could finish the sentence, Dalious tossed a knife dead center of the target, then tossed the second directly near it.

"Gotta take a piss!" he said, then wandered out of the tavern to find an alley.

After the madness that was the castle raid and brutalizing so many already dead bodies one would think that Alice Leon would have been a tad more affected. After all, she used to make her living by blowing the brains out of people who she was paid to kill; hacking a dead-not-dead body apart fell into that category of one in the same. The only real way one could tell something was bothering the woman was the hard set in her brows and her hand constantly on the handle of one of her holstered pistols. The normally conversive woman simply kept to herself and eyed as many people as she could manage from her position towards the back of the group.

One such person caught her attention, that of Dalious. She seldom spoke with the man but his constant moving around the group caused her to suspect something was off about the man. Even when they stopped at the Inn she kept a side eye on the man, still clad in her gear and with her rifle box still strapped to her back. Alice would have much prefered to have the weapon out and ready but that would cause too much fear in those that passed their group.

She’d picked a spot towards the back of the Inn where she sipped on a non alcoholic drink and observed all of those in the group; including the very pretty barmaid who seemed to give quite the look to Cyril. A knowing smirk came across her lips as she watched the others before falling back onto Dalious as he consumed copious amounts of booze while somehow still kept pretty damn good aim. She gave a slight smile and nod to a sleepy looking Stark who followed the woman, Kasumi, upwards to the rooms. ’Poor girl… She thought to herself as she remembered the scene of Stark and Marco arriving to the Queen’s quarters shaken and covered in blood. It was almost as bad when Stark had registered that Alice was covered in blood with a sword in her hand.

She pushed the thought away with a sad sigh before watching the ever suspicious Dalious again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she made a note to show him what a real sharp shot was like but that would be another time, for now she simply left her spot and quietly followed the man out the backdoor of the bar with total disregard of how that might actually look to anyone who may have noticed.

“Blood rains down from an angry sky, my cock rages on! My cock rages on!” Dalious sang aloud as he pissed all over the outer walls of the tavern.

When he finished attempting to write his name in the stone, he realized that he had been followed. Keeping his face toward the wall he instead began to hum the same tune in a softer tone.

“If you have come to slit my throat, I’m afraid you will be sadly disappointed,” he said, putting his manhood back into his pants. “For I am in my prime.” Dalious turned toward the follower while reaching for his sheathed katana, but it was not there. “Where’s my damned sword?”

He then noticed the follower was one of his own company, Alice, which made a whole lot more sense suddenly. He had nearly forgotten that they were amongst allies, at least so Cyril claimed, and he had no reasons not to trust his prince.

“The hell, woman?” he said. “A little common courtesy? If our positions were swapped, I’d be meeting the hangman by dawn. What is your purpose?”

Alice had taken to leaning her back against a wall with her face pointed towards the other while she gave him a moment of privacy. However, when he addressed her she turned her green eyes on him with a stony expression and her arms crossed under her ample chest.

“I looked away Dalious, it’s not something I’d care to gawk at on a drunken man anyways.” She took a few steps closer to him with no fear. “I simply followed you to figure out why Prince Serio would allow a drunkard into his group of Sentinels.” Alice dropped her hands and looked over the man with a slight frown, “Moreover I want to know what is bothering you. You are drinking harder than any of the others and have been acting skittish since we began this journey.”

“The prince is a clever lad,” he replied. “He clearly knows talent, when he crosses paths with it. Besides, he saved my life. I repaid the debt by following him into the arena. You were there, yet on the opposite side. I would be questioning your admittance, rather, short stuff.” He couldn’t help but to check out the woman’s rack once she lowered her arms. Next to magic, it was his second weakness. It took him a moment of slurring words together until he remembered what the next part of the topic was. “And as for my behavior, in my defense, I’m quite always drinking harder than any of these others, such is my way,” he started again. “It is you, not drinking at all that brings me to worry. We must fill that empty hand with some mead. Then, perhaps, you will come to realize, that all is well.”

Dalious tried to avoid the truth, as he was under a magical oath to not speak of what happened, of what was on his mind. He was fearful that Alice would use her womanly curves as a cruel weapon to get him to talk, which would result in him breaking the oath. He wasn’t even sure what would happen to him had he done so, but he did know something most definitely would happen.

The woman clenched her jaw again as she was being ogled, resisting every urge not to un-holster the guns strapped to her chest. Instead, she withdrew one of her guns from her thigh holster and began to toy with it as she turned it over and over in her hands, “My loyalty is understandably in question; the prince is the one who allowed me to join your little group when I saw that something concerning The Divine Paladin, The Prince of Barcea, and a handful of Gifted were traveling together and heading to a warmer place. Since then he keeps saying that I and my companion, Stark- the water mage with the long silver hair, have been apart of his Sentinels. Don’t get me wrong it’s a cool name but I’m more of a contracted Sentinel. When the time comes I will leave and continue at what I do best.” She re-holstered the weapon with a smooth ease before leaning her shoulder against the wall once again, “And I will be paid to do unsavory thing. Simple.”

Alice almost smirked at the drunken man as he mentioned mead, “How about this. If you out aim me then I will drop this topic and have a drink with you.” She took a few steps towards him with a coy little smirk, “And if I win you sober up and answer my questions, yeah?” She batted her long lashes at him as she looked up at him. If she was correct on her assumption this man was just a hormonal beast who could be all too easily intimidated without her even having to use her magics. If worst came to worst and he tried to tell someone she was pumping him for information she could simply shoot him and be done with it. “How about it Dalious? Wanna show me what you’re really made of?” Her words were dripping with implication;may as well lay it on heavy so he could grasp the situation.

“Sounds a deal by me,” he agreed and laughed. He picked up his empty pint cup and spun it a few times trying to mimic her, only to drop it seconds later. “That’s just my game.” Dalious reached to his chest plate and pulled out one of his throwing knives from the armor and gave Alice a wink, in his mind there was no possible way he could lose to a woman. “Ladies first.” He took a few stumbled steps over to her side, waiting for her to reveal the target.

“I’m actually no sentinel, by the way. I just drink alongside them, fight along side them. When the time comes, I will go my own way as well. We’re not so far off, you and I. You, the mercenary who gets coin from chasing others. Me, the pirate that takes what he wants. Now, we see who has the better aim!”

She smirked like the devil as he accepted her proposal. “Good with your hands I see?” Sarcasm was clearly evident in her words and in her actions as she glanced down at the fallen pint. Her gaze changed to the alley surroundings itself before narrowing on a box sitting on top of several other boxes. “There, first round. Hit the small box on the top of the others. Like this~” Alice plucked the throwing knife out of his hand, still looking at him with a smirk, and throwing it smoothly at the box-hitting it perfectly.

“Hey!” he grumbled as she took the knife. He watched as she directed it to the target with ease. “Not bad, for a woman.” He readied himself next, pulling out the next small knife and aiming toward the box. Unfortunately for himself, he saw two small boxes rather than the one, his daze of booze taking hold of his eyes. He squinted until he was sure there was actually only one box, then threw the blade at it. It barely struck, just hitting the bottom right edge. Not a perfect shot by any means, but enough to get the job done.

“Impressive...for a drunk pirate.” She lightly mused aloud as she glanced around for another target. “Hm, how about…” Alice held the word for a moment longer before finding another target-a slat of rotted wood leaning against the far wall. She moved with ease to remove the two throwing blades and use on to score the wood in a sizable ‘X’.

“Think you can hit that Pirate?”

“Did you not hear me before, lass?” he said, blowing the hair out of his face. “I’m in my prime.” He took one of the knives and twirled it between his fingers, then tossed it at the target, missing it entirely. The blade clinked against the wall behind the wood and dropped to the floor.

“Son of a…” He yelled and kicked the air, only holding himself from going further because he was not alone. He then put his back to the wall to watch Alice throw, crossing his arms and setting a foot back to further brace himself. He gave out a sigh, realizing that this girl was to good to miss, he could already tell of her talent from her first throw. Granted, she was sober. It was about time he started sobering up anyway, as he was now seeing double of everything.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “Being a hired gun?” It was a thought he had often questioned of himself, from time to time, usually when he was toward the end of being drunk. He had thought about giving up piracy, and becoming someone important, someone working with the prince. It was something that always lingered in his thoughts, though now was the first time he could see it becoming a possibility.

Alice had been toying with the knife between her fingers for a long moment while her eyes rolled in their sockets and her teeth flashed in a smile at the man’s confident words and less than confident actions. “In your prime you say?” She glanced at him sideways with her smirk only growing. Her body turned just a few degrees and her arm cocked back for the throw.

She hadn’t really been expecting the question to fall from his lips as her arm snapped forward to released the blade. It hit the target just a bit above where the lines intersected. She kept still and silent for a moment before glancing at him with that same smile, “It’s all I know how to do. It’s good money and it’s great for someone who doesn’t have a home.” She casually shrugged before turning on the heel of her boot to remove the blades from the board. “Why?” she handed him back his blade, “Thinking about taking it up once you get a bit better with your aim?”

“I’m more of a hack and slash type,” he said. “What I’ve learned from throwing knives comes from throwing spears all my life. Besides, I’m thinking more political. Someone working with the prince. I aim to get rich. Now, what questions do you have for me? I will speak as true as I can, so no need for any magics. Though I must warn you, I know nothing.”

Alice couldn’t help but look at the man with a curious look, tilting her head to the side while listening to him. Such an odd man indeed. “So a pirate is trying to get his land legs and try his hand at politics for the Prince of Barcea?” She nodded as she turned a blade over and over in her hand before holding it out to him- handle first. “I hardly think that the Prince would bring someone into his group who knows nothing. It’s clear you can handle yourself, that much was clearly stated during the arena battles. However, I had to wonder what your intentions of being here were. Yet, it seems you’ve answered them. I suspect there is far more to that story but who am I to pry about something kept close to the vest.”

The shorter woman laced her fingers behind her back while taking a step back from him, “I was planning on using my magic to it’s fullest ability but I’m actually pretty pleased with this conversation.”

“Damn it, woman!” he said. “How am I to know you weren’t using your magic on me this whole time! Your womanly, curvy, magic! I said I aim to get rich, whatever the means. True I know nothing of politics, however I’m sure there is something useful I can do. Something that makes me very, very rich! It’s not my intentions to use the prince, it’s just a stupid dream I’ve had for some time. Well, the get rich part anyway. Now I need another drink, and since you cheated with magic, I think I shall have one. I think you should do the same.”

A brow arched as Dalious spoke, her arms crossing over her chest once more. She remained there a moment before dropping her arms and taking those few short steps towards him with her hand snaking out and grabbing him by the collar of the shirt and dragging his far taller self down to her five foot three inch stature. “For the record, Dalious, my magic…” Her second hand pointed towards her green eyes that seemed to flash in the darkened alley, “Is right here. The rest is all natural.” Alice released the man with a polite smile before turning and calling back to him, “Come on Mister Pirate Politician, let’s get you another drink before you start spouting off about becoming an Emperor or something.”

---

The young mage had situated himself at an empty table far from the entrance, beside a window that offered a view of the town outside. He sat with a sigh and waited for his order to arrive. He wasn't sure if he would be given a drink, but he was alright either way. He lightly touched at his wound as a flash of pain appeared suddenly. "That brew seemed to not be as effective as I hoped," he stated as he lowered his arm and brushed his palm again the hilt of the knife that was used to assault him.

For a little while, Marco was left alone. After all, everyone was busy getting situated in their own ways, some already falling into their own discussions. However, one of the Sentinels didn't have any talking on the mind, and was instead thinking about catching up on all of the food he missed. This Sentinel, of course, was Sampson Avary, and already he had snuck into the kitchen and exited with heaping plates of food. To complete the getaway, though, he had to find a place to sit, which is what brought him to the mage's mostly empty table.

"Mind if I sit here, Mr. Maxwell?"

He jolted as he heard the new voice, his mind slipping into a dark corner. "Y-yes, sure! Sorry, my lord Avary," the boy was clearly flustered and scrambled to clear a spot for the Sentinel. Moving aside his bags had caused the knife to slip free from the oiled cloth it was wrapped in. He quickly ducked down to retrieve it, the darkened blade gleaming in the candlelit inn. He went silent for a brief period, unsure of what to say to someone like a Sentinel. He didn't know the man personal, only the title and surname. Apart from passing, Marco was certain that this was their first meeting.

"How is the food?," he began timidly, "How does it compare to home?"

Even if Sampson had just gotten his food, the question Marco had asked couldn't have been to anyone better suited to answer it as the Sentinel was already rapidly becoming an expert. He had a way of devouring his food at almost a frightening speed, and yet he never came close to seeming like he might choke or get full-

"Oh, it's pretty good! It's got a nice, home cooked flavor to it. A little different from what they serve at the castle, but I like it."

Marco's face brightened a bit at the news. He had enjoyed the food within the castle, Madame had a magic to her cooking that would warm any soul. Though it made him nostalgic, it also made him homesick. He sighed a bit and smiled softly. "Good to know, though I doubt I could eat at this point in time."

Marco eyed the Sentinel, nearly a decade his senior, and began to understand why the Prince had chosen the man. "Lord Avary, if you would forgive me, may I ask you a question about being a Sentinel?" He placed the knife on the table before him, the tip pointed towards his core. "I was curious as to why Lord Serio had chosen me for this journey, seeing as I am nothing more than a bookkeeper and scribe in all truth. My magical talents are weak and unimpressive compared to that of my master, but he and the queen both saw fit to bring me along this trip."

Not much could get Sampson to stop eating, and being asked a question certainly wasn't one of those things. After all, eating helped him think, so the young man with the messy brown hair continued to munch away as his eyebrows raised ever slightly. No more than a minute passed by before he swallowed, saying, "I think it's because you're so young the Prince brought you along. That's what we Sentinels do; we look after people, do our best to keep them safe, and so that's what you're doing. Besides, you might learn something, too."

With that he went back to munching, but even as he did so one hand reached forwards, turning the tip of the knife away from Marco and off into a direction to the side, away from either of them.

He took the answered in with a nod as his guest went back to eating again. "Sounds like it would be reasonable," he replied as the knife was turned away. Its keen edge pointed a safe direction. "Being a Sentinel must be a honor, though I do wish that I could provide and protect for myself and my country with more than petty tricks and cheap flashes." The memories of the previous night were still fresh in his mind. He stared hard at the knife that wounded him as his shoulder ached again.

He was about to speak again, a breath being drawn in, as a plate of food was placed before him and a pint of juice as well. Of course he was too young to drink, so he nodded and mouthed a thank to the maiden that served him. He began his meal with a silent prayer to the Divine before tearing meat with his hands and nibbling here and there. "Hmm, they added a spice to the meat. Tastes savory, but there is a heat there that blends well. I will need to remember that." The young mage used his free hand to reach into his bag and retrieve his personal tome and began to scribe the sensation he felt down. He flipped past designs and scribbles of runes to a fresh page. He used a quill that required no ink, for his magic filled the pages with his thoughts. Being ambidextrous held its advantages, though he favored his left more often than not.

Unnoticed to him however, the knife's blade began to glow with runes of his work as he continued to write. It was almost as if it reacted to his magic, being aware to what he was doing.

The Sentinel almost missed it as well, so entranced was he in his food. However, when he happened to glance in that direction he blinked, before sitting up a little straighter. "Er, Mr. Maxwell, just what are you doing?"

Marco did not look from his work, which had transformed from simple recipe to redesigning his attire. He had a vision of armor worn over robes to protect himself, but not to limit his movements. As frail as he was, he could quickly gain muscle mass with a flick of the tongue. "Hm? Oh nothing, Lord Avary. I was simply debating on how to change my wardrobe if the need arose to fight again." When the tore his eyes from the book, in hopes to better show the Sentinel, he became aware of what was transpiring.

A puzzled look appeared on the boys face as gazed down at the knife. He wiped the grease from his finger and lifted the blade to have a better look. "By the Divine, is that my work? Could this be a by product of my blood during my magical awakening? I know that Master Codigo stated that the blood of a Magus could be used as a catalyst, but I never knew that this is what he had meant. If I had known that my blood was the cause of the stains on this blade, I wouldn't have tried so hard to cleanse it off." He was clearly in awe with this discovering, ignorant to what the Sentinel might have been thinking at that point in time.

"However, blood magic can be dangerous. Fuck me, if only the library wasn't so far away now. I could do more study on it." Realizing what he had said, he stole a glance at Avary briefly. "Pardon my language of course, I lost sight of my current surroundings."

"It's, er... Fine." Sampson gave Marco a little smile, though it was slightly strained. The Sentinel was definitely more of a physical fighter than a magical one, rather he relied entirely on the physical as most of the Sentinels did, so he didn't understand too much about the in depth nature of magic. Still, he knew enough to know that blood magic could certainly be... unpleasant, especially if things didn't go well.

"Just, uh... Be careful, I suppose."

Marco had placed the knife back down again at hearing the Sentinel's reply. "Speaking of being careful, I have a rather strange request my lord." He rotated his journal so that Lord Avary could view it easily. "Could you...," he started slowly, "could you help me train? I don't want to be useless in a time of crisis again. I don't want to bring shame on my family name anymore than I have during the last incident."

He hadn't really spoken about that night to anyone, he doubted that anyone could view that night in casual regard. He still remembered the fear that gripped at his soul as those twisted abominations continued to rise after each strike.

In that moment, Sampson happened upon the first thing that made him stop eating in awhile. Upon hearing the young mage's request the Sentinel slowly lowered his fork, blinking several times. After just a moment of thought though he slowly nodded, smiling. "I don't mind doing that at all. I'll do the very best I can to help you."

Nodding in agreement, an energy surged through the boy. He didn't know what type of training the Sentinel had in mind and he had no idea what to prepare for. Being honest, he wasn't even sure how long he would be able to keep up. However, he would do his damnedest to follow instructions. "Thank you, my lord. I doubt that I will ever be able to repay you for this kindness."

Sampson laughed ever slightly, giving a slight shake of his head. "Start off by calling me Sampson. I'm not a Lord, and I don't need to be called one."

The boy smiled and nodded again. "And I am not a mister, yet. I am just a young boy who can make fancy lights and petty tricks." He was humble of his gifts, about a lot of his person honestly. "Now, it looks like you could use a drink. I am surprised that you haven't chocked yet with how you wolf down your food like that."

Sampson gave a slight chuckle, shrugging afterwards. "It took a lot of practice, and too many accidents than I could count. But yes, you're probably right, and I wouldn't complain."

Vesta was silent during their ride to the small village, guarding the rear of the group with a knitted brow and a perpetual frown as she fumed over this and that. It would be an unbearable, herculean task to go into what was currently upsetting the rather dour woman. The problems were seemingly endless, from the large issues, like how they were now consorting with demons as well as asshole paladins, to the small issues, like how they were now stuck playing babysitter for some sorcerer's apprentice. Her mood soured even further as they arrived at their destination for the night, her eyes narrowing in quiet judgment as she saw their hostess's outfit—only for her ability to keep her tongue in check to finally fail after the woman's innuendo.

"Brought us to a fucking brothel," said Vesta, muttering into her glove as she tried to hide an annoyed laugh by converting it into some kind of sigh.

She hung around inside of the inn just long enough to grab a flagon of something before realizing that, in a strange turn of events, she did not want to drink. After what felt like the proper amount of time to stare into one's drink, she pushed herself away from the bar and headed towards the exit (dropping off her beverage at a table claimed by her travelling companions as either a sign that she was coming back or an open invitation to a free drink). On her way out she collided with Dalious, or rather the pirate collided with her as he attempted to stand up straight to show off in some way that would likely end horribly, and briefly she regretted not getting as plastered as the man as she turned her back just in time to miss his shot. Wrapping her cloak around her, Vesta glanced over her shoulder before walking out into the night air.

She didn't know where she was going at first, her body subconsciously leading the way. It wasn't until she had reached the stables, bridled her horse, and began leading it by the reins that Vesta realized what she was doing. Stopping, Vesta found herself in the middle of the street with the inn, filled with her promises and worries, to her left and the road, full of potential freedoms and (likley) failures, to her right—and, since reuniting with the Serios, she found herself unable to decide which was more important to her.

Shadar was pissed. This was clear to anyone who had taken a second to even glance at the giant man as he traveled with the group, his entire being giving off a feeling of 'Fuck off before I kill' since they left. The reason for this anger was unknown, but the fact that, in the night before they left and some of this morning, there had been quite a bot of arguing between the giant and his magical brother. Lots of shouting and breaking of objects had been involved, followed by a few minutes of silence as they read through the other's responses, which had been written in an extremely old language that Drosil had found, and as far as he knew, only he could translate. The rages of each individual also was done in language strange, foreign, and alien to most people and would likely be understandable to no one. Whatever the case may have been for the argument, it ended with Shadar owing the queen a few things from their temporary dwelling . . . like a wall, for one.

When the group had arrived at the Inn, Shadar had chosen to to stay outside feeling that if he met an idiot inside of there, he was likely to kill the fool in a fit of barely controlled rage.

What was that idiot thinking? When will he learn to not just leap into a nest of vipers just because he might learn something out of the whole ordeal! Can't he just take a second to remember that he's not the only one affect by his terrible decision-making? Shadar had always put up with his brother's impulsiveness for the pursuit of knowledge, because he always believe that Drosil would be able to keep it in check, and for the most part he did. But during the attack, just because he got a sliver of what another Divineborn was capable of when compared to himself, he fucking leaped straight out of the pan without a moment's hesitation.

The idiot didn't even considered bringing Shadar into the deal, probably because he knew that Shadar would've told the lady to fuck off, and took his chances jumping off the side of the castle walls. Nothing good could come from this deal, and the fact that she mentioned the Serios only made that extremely more clear than it had before. While the giant didn't feel any particular loyalty to the Royal Family of Barcea, he could tell that they were good people, the queen especially so, and he didn't wish them any harm, nor did he want to be the cause of it, even partially. Drosil was a fool thinking that he could just use these people to his advantage, and all Shadar could do was run damage control.

Letting out a sigh, he felt a slight nudging to his side. Looking down, he saw Sir Mauls looking up at him from it's current curled up position in the stables, letting out a soft series of comforting clicks. Letting out a soft chuckle, Shadar gave the giant insect a scratch behind the head, right where he liked it, and was rewarded by another series of clicks. His attention was drawn from the creature however, by the sounds of footsteps approaching the area. Looking up, he saw vesta walking by with her horse, only to stop in the middle of the street, looking between the Inn that her charges had gone to and a road to somewhere far off. Normally, Shadar would just leave well enough alone, but with Drosil being such a loose cannon and the fact that she seemed to be the only other person in their group with even a lick of common sense, he didn't think it'd be a good idea to let her go off without even attempting to talk to her. Besides, she made for an interesting subject for his drawings.

"Not that it's any of my business, but where are you going off to?"

Vesta started at the sound of Shadar's voice, her hand flying to her blade before her better senses eased her edge. She blamed the darkness for her missing the giant and his bug companion, although truthfully she knew it was because she had been distracted by her thoughts. Cursing, she raised her shoulders and pushed her hair out of her face, giving Shadar a look that, even in the pale light from the moon, read as only slightly contemptuous—and really, it was only due to his rather odd relationship with his "brother" more than anything else. Well, that, and how she viewed pretty much everyone with some vile, deeply rooted prejudices. For a moment she thought of getting on her horse and riding away without an answer, but that would mean that she had come to a decision on what is was that she felt was best for her (albeit only by lying to herself that it was best for the others). Turning to the large man, she tightened her grip on her horse's reins as she followed her arms over her chest.

"You're right," she said, her voice worn but not betraying the guilt and shame she felt for having been caught. "It is none of your business."

Her tone came out more rude than she had intended it to be. Pursing her lips, she moved to make some kind of apology but found it impossible to form the words. Her horse felt its owners discomfort and snorted, prodding Vesta with its nose and stamping its hooves—or perhaps it was just antsy being so close to Sir Mauls. She exhaled with a sigh and dropped her shoulders. It was the closest she would get to saying sorry.

"I was just going for a late-night ride," she said with a lie easily detectable by any slightly observant person, as her horse had been packed for several days on the road. Her eyes darted up the sky, falling on the subject that every poor conversationalist went to as a crutch. "It's actually kind of nice out, considering the time of year. The moon's pretty full, too. Well, once the clouds pass. Uh." She tugged at her cloak uncomfortably. "You're welcome to tag along, if you'd want. You're always drawing. There's bound to be something picturesque you can sketch around here."

Plus, if somebody came with her then Vesta knew that she'd be forced to stay. If only for the night.

"I see . . ."

Shadar was silent for a bit, his thoughts unreadable as ever given how so little of his features could actually be seen, but he soon rose from his position with a light chuckle. Walking over to the woman, he made a motion for Sir Mauls to stay put as he saw the creature getting ready to uncoil itself. He knew that the poor creature was feeling a bit cooped up, but he also knew that Sir Mauls would probably make the horse much too jumpy with his presence.

"Never took you for the type, but if that's what you're doing, that's what you're doing." Shadar, being more than a little observant, knew the woman wasn't planning on going for 'just a ride', but he saw no reason in pointing that fact out, as that would only serve to embarrass and belittle the woman, not something he really felt like doing. Instead, he'd play along with the lie, follow her around a bit, then lead her on back. Besides, it wasn't often that he got to talk to other people."And since you offered, I guess I'll join you. Not sure how many sights I'll see worth drawing around here though, but hey, I could use the exercise.

And I need to take my mind off my idiotic brother fora bit, lest I lay into the next poor fool to get on my bad side.

With that said, Shadar would wait for Vesta to choose a direction before following her and her horse, easily keeping pace with the beast's canter as he entered a light jog. The clouds would certainly part before long, but as of right now, the dreariness of their area was unmistakeable, with the only speck of light and color being that of the Inn they were currently leaving behind. After a short while, Shadar would speak, not wanting silence to rule the late night escapade.

"So, Vesta, you seem to be rather close with the Serios, so I feel the desire to ask, what's the story behind that? If it's something you don't wish to tell, then don't feel beholden to do so, just something I've been curious about?"

"You're curious," she said with a huff, pulling back on the reins to stop her horse as they came upon a small creek. Easing herself down from the saddle, she tied her ride around a small tree. Vesta took a step towards the creek before pausing as she remembered how she had lost her horse the first time she had met Shadar. She took an extra moment to double check the knot, giving it a hearty tug before finding herself satisfied, and then turned her back to Shadar and limped over to the dark waters. She stared at her shadowy reflection in the trickling waters as she mulled over how much information was the safe amount of information. At this point she doubted anyone would care if they found out she had been a bandit—anyone but her, however.

"Where to start...I knew them before even Ayano was born. I joined the Kingsguard when I was seventeen—Kori was just some prissy girl and Cyril was still clinging to his mother. Being a Kingsguard wasn't what I really wanted to do back then, but what I want never really mattered and it was better than eventually being forced to marry some third son. Things were different back then. Tougher—shit, I sound like my father, but it's true. The greenhorns the Prince surrounds himself with now wouldn't have made the grade twenty years ago. Have you seen the Direwolf fight?" she asked, looking back towards Shadar. "He's the same even in practice. Nearly cut off my damn arm the first day."

Despite herself, she chuckled and shook her head. "I guess that's why Olain had me train his son instead of Alsius—well, that, and I was actually better with a sword than he was. Still am, I bet. Anyway, although I didn't necessarily want to train Cyril I knew that it was supposed to be an honor, so I put my all in making sure he wouldn't get himself killed. I always gave my all back then—I guess I bought the whole line about sacrificing yourself for your duty and all of that knightly nonsense. It worked, though. Somehow found myself in charge of the entire Kingsguard after a few years."

"And then we went to war to liberate the West from the God Kings, the Gifted beat us back, and when we came back I was no longer in the Kingsguard," she said, bending down and grabbing a stone. "And now, the fucking bastards are travelling with two of Olain's children while I keep my mouth shut and try not to think about my King as he rolls over in his grave." She skipped the rock across the water and sighed, grabbing another one. "More fitting to say I was close to the Serios. Now? I feel like I'm more of a bothersome reminder of a legacy they'd rather forget...maybe they should."

She frowned. It felt strange to talk this much about herself.

"So, I sated your curiosity; it'd only be right if you did the same for me. What's the whole deal with the brother situation? I only ask because I have five other siblings and I would dread it if I somehow started swapping places with them," she said, skipping another rock across the surface. "It's not just a spell, is it?"

You've had quite a life, it seems. Not any get to train princes. He seems to have turned out all right so far too, bit cocky if I say so myself." Shadar said with a bit of lightness in his voice, but he was mostly trying to buy himself time to think of a way to not talk abut the situation or at the ver least, give a more convincing lie, but with a wit as sharp as vesta's he soon found that any option he could think of on such short notice wouldn't hold up to scrutiny. Besides, one could turn deserved another. He'd asked her for her life story, and it was only fair that he give her his in return. Prepping himself to talk about the subject, Shadar took a seat next to the creek where they stopped, taking a rock in his clawed hands and tossing it up in the air a few times before letting it fall into his palm.

"My brother and I, as the Paladin had the lack of discretion to announce a little while ago on the ride to Gurata when Drosil once again made a fool of himself, are Divineborn. As you may have guessed, I have no great love for the Divines, and feel that those like the Paladin are fools of the highest order. The Divines do not care for us, not truly in my opinion, and I've heard less than nothing from my own Godly Parent. It was probably for their own sick amusement that they not only made it so me and my brother must share the same space at any moment, with only one of us ever truly living there life at any time . . ."

As the giant spoke, his words became more strained, filled with anger and frustration, his fingers clenching into a tight fist as he struggled to contain himself. Once he felt like he'd calmed down enough to continue without raising his voice, he unclenched his hand, the rock that had been there before now crushed into pieces that he let fall into the water.

"While the other must live their life on the scraps of memory they get once they come back, always forced to go along with whatever nonsense the other has gotten themselves into, never being able to live a life on their own. Not to mention this damnable body of mine, which was made to do everything I despise. I can't stand killing, I hate fighting, I hate the entire idea of it all, but what else am I to do in a body like this.What else can I do to keep that idiot alive when he pulls reckless stunts and experiments like what he did in the arena."

"I felt nothing but disgust for myself after what i did to that Guratan girl, hell, I feel disgusted for every life I take. It's grisly, sick, twisted . . . and in this monstrous form, it's much . . . much too easy." Shadar wondered, for a moment, why he was telling all of this to Vesta, before he realized the'd never really had anyone to talk to about . . . well, anything like this in a long time. His thoughts turned towards their caretakers, how they helped him understand what he was, what he could do. . . and that he wasn't the monster he thought himself to be.

You're a kind and gentle soul, Shadar, and I know you'll do great things one day. Just be sure not to let your brother lose his way while you do so, okay? He needs you, more than either of you truly now. The Wife had said that, mysterious and cryptic as always. And now, years later, he felt like she hadn't been able to see the reality of his situation. There was nothing kind or gentle about him, and he was the one who got left to the way side, living in the shadow of Drosil, never able to truly live his own life, just hang on the vestiges of another. After a moment of contemplative silence, he spoke again, his tone having gone from raging, envious, and full of a deep self-hatred to despair and depression.

". . . I know you aren't one for romance, but. . . I've alway wondered what it would be like to love and be loved. It was, and please don't laugh at me when I say this, my dream and the only true desire I ever had. I believed in all of that crap about how it is what's on the inside that matter for all of my childhood . . . until the first time I tried to talk to a girl. Even now, I could still feel the fear, the apprehension, and the slight undertones of disgust. She had wanted nothing to do with me, especially after me and Drosil told her our secret. We were young and dumb, so easily trusting of her pretty face. She turned us in to a local slaver gang for a quick buck the very next day. She'd been attracted to Drosil, but not enough to prevent her from stabbing us in the back."

Shadar let out a sigh, the memories of his first and last attempt at love flitting through his mind. The nervousness, the apprehension . . . and the gut-wrenching sting of betrayal followed by seething hot anger.

"I killed for the first time that night, all of the gang and the girl too . . . because it was what hd to be done to keep me and my brother safe. The worst part of it wasn't the act of killing them, however, but just how easily I was able to. I killed a group of about 20 men, ill-equipped and untrained they may have been, and only suffered a few minor injuries. I was only 15 at the time, yet couldn't help but feel dirty and filthy after what I had done. I still see their faces in my mind, along with the face of every other man I've slain since that day. If I ever get that chance to learn their names, I keep them, remember them. . . because I'm the reason that they'll never be spoken again."

"Well, I told you what you wanted, and more, so I hope your curiosity has been similarly satisfied. And . . . sorry for talking your ear off, but I don't get the chance to talk to people often, especially about myself. Not very good at stopping myself once I get started."

"I can tell," said Vesta, tossing a rock up in the air and catching it with her other hand. She offered Shadar a half-hearted smile as if to say that it wasn't an issue, and then her smile warped into an actual grin. She had been able to hold off laughing during his story, but the thought of the giant being a hopeless romantic was too much even for Vesta. "But if you just want to be loved all you need is some low standards, a lack of self-respect, and a few coins," she said with a smirk. She narrowed her eyes as if she just remembered something painful and whatever mirth there was dropped from her voice. "Trust me, you end up feeling just as shitty either way once it's over, regardless if the love is real or not."

Vesta didn't allow a silence to fall over them, fearful that Shadar would push her for information. She decided to try and reassure him, only if because she felt guilty for laughing at him.

"Nobody enjoys killing, Shadar, at least nobody that isn't a complete monster or a complete idiot," she said, not mentioning how she actually enjoyed the thrill of fighting—although she was actually able to pull her punches and avoid most unnecessary casualties. "Unfortunately, there are a lot of monsters in our world and even more idiots. That's just the way it is. We can't go more than a decade without a war, and even during times of peace there are places like the Arena or even tournaments thrown by so-called noble houses where those bastards can sate their bloodlust—and there will always be assholes like us who aren't good at anything else but to please those pricks. And personally, if I had the choice I'd much rather have that exoskeleton of yours than a body of soft flesh and brittle bones."

She sighed; she wasn't painting a very positive picture.

"What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't let all of that guilt weigh you down. That stuff will kill you." She realized how hypocritical the statement was. "It's not your fault if somebody is stupid enough to cross a guy as big as you," she said, adding, "Shit, you're probably doing them a favor."

"Hmph, you certainly have an interesting way of looking at things, Vesta." Shadar said, shaking his head slightly as he considered what she thought of his romantic nature. During the conversation, he'd ulled out his sketchbook, finishing up the last few touches to several drawings he was working on. Vesta's and Thurya's were both finished and looking rather impressive, while he ha one of the queen and her family standing together in the works, still having to work on Ayano a bit more to get her likeness just how he liked it. On another page he had a drawing of the castle from the outside, and next to it, a grim looking image of a group of dark-clad men raising of the ground, their bodies broken and maimed, yet their eyes were set with a haunting white glow, exerting naught but a cold emptiness on any who dared look upon them. "Still, I can't help but wonder what that Paladin would have to say about my Godly parent's decision to give me such an inhuman form. Knowing how his type is, he'll say that I'm like this for a reason and should trust in the Divines like a lamb trusts in a shepard. Following which, I'd tell him to fuck off, then probably punch him in his face, mostly cause I know it likely won't work. Zealot he may be, that man is ridiculously skilled. Drosil was a fool to challenge him and he paid for it."

Well, I think that's enough of a pit stop. As my caretaker use to say: 'never stay too long in anyone place, lest you find yourself rooted in place' . . . on second thought, that doesn't apply much to this situation, does it?" Shadar let his head fall a bit in embarrassment before he rose up, stretching a bit as he waited for his companion to rise. He thought offering assistance, but decided against, as the woman doesn't seem like the type who'd appreciate a reminder of her injury and weakness. You mentioned you had brothers of your own before. Have you tried to contact them recently, or is such a thing no longer possible, for whatever reason.

"Hah!" she said with a snort as she struggled to her feet. "I doubt they'd want me, and I rather like not having to show up for birthdays and holidays to have forced conversations while pretending we'd rather be anywhere else but in the same house. You don't have to share the same body to grow to despise someone; sometimes it just takes a roof. I'm pretty sure I passed my sister while in the Capitol; we both pretended not to recognize one another."

She stretched her back and groaned when something popped, taking a moment to steady herself before marching over to her horse and removing the reins from the tree. The moon was high in the sky now, free from the clouds that had caged it earlier, and illuminated the land around them. It was far from picturesque. The trees were gnarled, the creek was brown with runoff, and the ground was more weeds than grass. Lights from the village could be seen on the horizon. It wasn't a far ride, but it'd be a decent walk. Leading the horse by the reins, she nodded to Shadar and began heading back to town. Vesta knew she'd regret the walk in the morning, but for now she wanted to continue their talk. She still needed to clear her mind, and there was something that had been bothering her for a while.

"Why are you here with us, Shadar? It's not that I mind having you around—compared to the others, you're actually tolerable. I know Drosil dragged you into this shit with his grand delusions of somehow finding ultimate power or whatever it is that all mages are always going on about, but you could just make him leave. And you say that you dislike fighting and dislike killing, but I'm sure you understand that this is just the start of the violence," she said, unsure of what case she was actually trying to make. The next question she asked to Shadar, although it might as well been directed towards herself: "So why do you stay?"

"Everything you say is true, no doubt about that. The night of horrors at the castle was more than proof enough that hanging around the Serios is bad for one's health in these times. . . but strangely enough, while I do consider leaving, I can't bring myself to do it." Shadar rubbed his helmeted head in exasperation as he let out a sigh, looking across the grim landscape with a hidden grimace before he resumed speaking again. "For a while, I've been unable to figure out why, and using Drosil as an excuse, but after the night at the castle, I took a long hard look at the situation and realized that, for the first time in our lives, we actually have a purpose to our lives. I'm only as old as Drosil, really, a few years younger if we're being honest, so the thought of going back to our aimless wanderings is less than ideal. I do hate killing and fighting, more than anything, but it's going to happen regardless of what I do. . . might as well have a better reason to do it than just to save your own hide, right?"

Even with his face hidden away by his heavy exoskeleton, one could tell that the giant was feeling a bit embarrassed by his reasoning for staying with the party. HE couldn't help but fidget uncharacteristically and his hand seemed to be glued to his head as he kept on rubbing it. "*Tch, Damn Cyril, his idealistic crap seems to be getting infectious."

As he walked, feeling frustrated with his inability to keep his mouth shut now that he's let his guard down, a deep sense of regret and disgust filled his core. While what he said was true, the real reason why he had stayed after that massacre at the castle was Drosil's idiocy. If his brother hadn't decide to make a deal with those Divineborn bastards, he would've left the very next day, choosing to live a long and happy life far away from messed up shit like that. But now he and Drosil were involved with very dangerous people, and he wasn't risking drawing their anger by ditching the target they wanted Drosil to stay near . . . not until he knew exactly what they wanted at least. Drosil made this bed, but i'll be damned if I'm just going to let him lie in it. I'm going to find out as much information as possible from these bastards, and when the time is right, em and Drosil are out of here, with Cyril learning about a group of Divineborn that seemed to be very interested in starting this war between Barcea and H'kela. Hopefully, we don't end up 6 feet under because of it.

"Anyway, now that that's been explained, can we move on from this topic, yeah? And never tell Cyril, hell, never tell anyone I said any of this. I've a reputation to uphold, if nothing else."

A purpose to our lives. Shadar's words echoed through Vesta's head as she nodded along as he talked. It made sense. She looked around at their surroundings. They were closing the distance between themselves and the inn as they talked, and road behind them seemed even more uninviting in the moonlight than it had when it was in the shadow of the clouds. Vesta knew she couldn't go back to a life of aimless wandering; she was amazed and disgusted with herself for even considering it. She had to be here, even if only for there to be someone to keep Cyril's infectious idealism from clouding the better judgment of others. Arriving in front of the inn, Vesta put her hand on her horse to ease it to a stop and turned to Shadar.

"Nobody would believe me even if I told them. You should head in. We've been gone long enough already that I'm sure that pirate will need somebody to carry him to his bed...or the stables. I'll be in shortly," said Vesta as she began walking to the stables, only to pause for one second to turn and give Shadar an almost friendly look. "And thank you."

"*Hmph. . . Glad to be of some help. Good to know that being around Drosil all my life has given me some conversational skills." Shadar replied, a small smile of his own present in his words if not his eternally stoic demeanor, though the disgust inside of him only grew as he waved goodbye to her. It was a crappy situation that his brother had gotten them into, and if possible, he wished that he could give the summoner the good knock upside his short-sighted head that he so desperately needed. But, such a thing wasn't possible until the damnable Divines had their fun and decided to separate the pair, an option the the giant wasn't really holding his breath over. As he walked towards the Bar, he decided that he'd had enough discussion for one night, especially since he felt like he was lying to good people that he was basically spying on them, and decided to switch over to his brother, the blinding light that accompanied the switch. flashing around him, most likely catching Alice and Dalious somewhat off guard as he'd entered their general area once he'd down it.

Drosil would stand frozen for a bit, dressed in his usually robes and whatnot, with his staff in hand and a puzzled look upon his face, before he shook his head and made his way past the two with a hastily muttered apology . . . only to get somewhat floored by the presence of the barmaid and her rather revealing attire. He stared for two seconds longer than he should have before taking an abrupt turn to make his way upstairs, asking the other woman in more modest attire where his room was. Once there, he'd let out a soft sigh, going over the content of Vesta and Shadar's talk, noticing a few holes that lasted too long to be just silence, meaning that Shadar was intentionally keeping those memories a secret from Drosil. It was an annoying thing, but it's not like he had any right to truly complain if Shadar wanted to decided something for himself. Looking a bit disheartened, he thought back to the night at the castle, thinking of all the different ways it could've gone if he had tried to simply bide for time or had actually decided to trust his brother and switch over to him. He ceased because, in truth, their was no point in wondering. What was done was done, and he knew that the Advisor or one of her group would find him one day and give him his assignment. Now it was only a matter of discovering what he was willing to do for the knowledge and power he sought.

Each person passed the night in their own way, but all got some very well deserved rest. They would need it as once again they rose early the next morning, preparing themselves to leave before most of the other guests throughout the inn had even stirred from their beds. Once more they gathered outside to get ready to leave, the morning cold and slightly damp with dew.

As the Prince's party rose, so too did the innkeepers. Chiyo was the first one to be up, wearing a green turtleneck sweater and a red pencil skirt as she went about the main floor of the inn. She was preparing the bar for the day, along with the general dining room. Around she went, organizing things for the day and enjoying the little bit of silence before the day started. When she finished and the large party accompanying the royal siblings headed outside, she followed, watching quietly by the door.

On the Prince's orders the party was to keep everything as quiet as they possibly could in order to not wake the other guests, and they were quite successful all things considered. At the front of them all the Prince not only prepared himself but looked back to check the progress of everyone else. On one of these looks he saw Chiyo, and after checking one last bag he left his horse where it stood, making his way over to her.

"Hopefully we'll be back this way soon enough. Thank you for accommodating us for the night."

Chiyo had been watching the party work quietly. She always liked to, since it could easily be a chaotic scene but wasn't. The innkeeper was caught slightly off guard as Cyril made his way over to her, but she managed to smile.

"Of course. It's what I do."

"Is there anything else I can do for you before we go?"

"Stay safe so you can come back."

He chuckled slightly, nodding. "I always do my best to do that, you know that." With that one hand went forwards, gently taking hers before he leaned forwards, placing a soft kiss on her lips before he began to pull away. "Thank you again, Chiyo. Tell your sister I said goodbye." With that he let her hand go, making his way back to his own horse.

She smiled a little as he kissed her, returning the kiss just as softly as it was placed on her lips. Gently, she squeezed his hand before he let go.

"I will. Come back soon."

When the Prince pulled himself onto his horse he gave the order to move, and once more he and Richard led the group as they made their way to the east. The sun rose, quickly drying the wet that had settled in thanks to the cold night are as things very quickly warmed up.

The mountains came into view soon after leaving the Hanasaki inn behind, and by midday they had entered the foothills. Up and down they went, knowing that soon enough they would soon be continuously heading upwards, but that was still some time away. However, after they began to crest one of the larger hills, a strange sight awaited them...

A single figure stood on the highest point of the hill, back to them. She was truly a beautiful woman with long, wavy blonde hair, dressed in a form fitting purple dress that shimmered in a mesmerizing way unlike any cloth they had ever seen before. Everything about her, from the shape of her form to the smoothness of her skin was utterly perfect, so perfect it was almost eerie. She carried a parasol over her shoulder, one she spun in between her fingers slowly, and as she stood there she stepped back and forth in a twostep to music only she could apparently hear.

To say Cyril was confused was an understatement... And that became even more the case when the woman suddenly turned to face them. Her face was just as beautiful as the rest of her, and was even more so as a smile lit up her features. Her eyes were a bright, vibrant purple, her lips a deep red as that smile grew... And then, quite suddenly, down she dropped. She went straight down, through a strange phenomenon that could only be described as a smooth tear through reality itself, one that closed immediately afterwards-

"Oh, shit!" Christopher swore loudly, bringing his arms up to block his throat as the curse rang out. He did so just in time as another tear suddenly appeared right next to him, the upper half of the woman suddenly popping out of it at a high speed, the look on her face utterly excited. She threw her white gloved arms and hands around his neck, squeezing him tightly to her neck and bosom with what was apparently an extreme amount of force; despite blocking his throat, Christopher was still having trouble breathing.

"There's my baby boy! How have you been, my dear? Have you been sleeping well? Eating your vegetables? Is Damon making sure you take baths?" Her voice was perfectly sweet.

"C-c-can't breathe-!"

"What-?!" Cyril had turned in his confusion, jaw dropping. He honestly had no idea what he was looking at, and didn't until the Paladin explained... And after the Paladin said the following words the Prince's eyes widened even more in shock as a similar sort of awestruck surprise passed through the group:

"Ye are in the presence of the Dark Divine Ambrosia, Lady of the Abyss."

For a few moments Christopher remained in an apparently killer embrace as the Divine cooed over him, before she suddenly released him and allowed him to slump into his own saddle. She seemed to rest her arms on the edge of the tear like one might do a counter top, and as it moved through the air she moved with it, drifting along her way through the group. Straight to the Paladin she went, beaming at him quite happily as she said, "Hello, Damon! How has he been? Not giving you too much trouble, I hope!"

The Paladin nodded, bowing in his saddle as he did so, keeping his head tilted down afterwards. "Nothing I can't handle, milady. As stubborn as he is, he's still learning bit by bit.'

"Oh, good, that's wonderful to hear! I knew you might be able to teach him a thing or two!" On she drifted then, going through to the front of the group. Up next to Richard her tear drifted, her smiling at the old (at least in human terms) man as well. "And hello to you too, Richard! My, it's been awhile, I haven't visited Karin in so long. How is the dear?"

"Well enough, Lady Ambrosia. Working hard, as always."

"Oh, of course she is. Maybe one day she'll listen to me and relax a little, but that's never been quite her style, now has it...?" Her sentence drifted off, before she quite suddenly turned to Cyril, swooping in quite close to him and nearly sending him off of his horse in surprise. "And you must be Prince Cyril! Oh, it's so good to meet you as well!" Before he could react she was hugging him, though not with the same tight embrace she had given Christopher, and still before he could say anything she had already let him go, drifting over to Ayano. "Oh, and you're little Ayano! Oh, you're so cute I could just kidnap you!" Another hug was given...

And when Ambrosia released her Ayano nearly fell off her horse, barely keeping on thanks to the reins and the efforts of Diane. "So much purple........"

Around Ambrosia looked, smiling. At the sight of Joachim she suddenly sat straight up in surprise, before swooping over to him as well. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Raizen! Hello, Joachim! How have you been, my dear? Is everything well? It seems you've finally found a nice place to settle."

"Well... for the time being..."

"Oh, there are just so many of you! Please, each of you forgive me as I make my way through you all." She listed ever slightly to the side, to the one who moved next to Joachim. "And you must be Chikako! Thank you so much for being such a good friend to my dear Joachim, I'm glad he hasn't been completely alone these last few years." Before the Gifted could respond the Divine was moving on, swooping back and forth in between the horses of the group back towards Christopher, but stopping just before she got to him, looking to Etsuko first.

"Oh, are you a friend of my baby boy's?" She asked this excitedly, and as she drifted closer one hand went forwards, gently patting the Diviner on her head. "I'm so glad to hear that, Etsuko!" Her hand then went over as she rose up with the tear, to get on Calypso's level, and she gave the silver-haired young woman a few pats as well. "Oh, aren't you just beautiful, Calypso! It's such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, and well worth the wait! Learn as much as you can about the world, dear girl, there's so much for you to experience now!"

"~~~~~~~"

From there she spun around, going to one of the ones at the edge of the group. "Oh, and aren't you just looking as grand as ever, Direwolf Argentum! Keeping yourself as sharp as you can possibly be, I'm so proud!" Even as the Direwolf gave a slight nod the Divine was drifting away, towards another protector of the Serios as she smiled. "Hello, Vesta! It's good to see you finally back with the Serios. They've missed you, and I'm so very glad you have a home again."

Quite suddenly she switched gears entirely, and drifted along through the middle of the group, looking back and forth to those she spoke to. "Oh, you just have to be Alice! You are positively enchanting with those beautiful eyes of yours! And aren't you Ms. Stark? Oh, you're so cute too! I'm so proud of you working so hard on your studies, you're doing an absolutely terrific job! Oh, and you must be Thuraya! What a beautiful tail you have, my dear! You must be so strong, Seryosa must be so proud!"

On she went, continuing to beam with every word she spoke. "Oh, Captain Dalious, there you are! Your life has certainly taken a strange turn, hasn't it! I dare say you'll end up liking it, though! Oh, get a shave when you can, you're so scruffy right now! Oh my, and you must be Marco Maxwell! Keep up with your studies, dear boy, and be careful with what tricks you try to learn! I know you can do it, but don't hurt yourself! And you, you must be Drosil, aren't you! Oh, this is the closest I'll ever get to meeting a nephew, I'm sorry it took me so long to find you! Do tell your adorable brother I said hello, and that I can't wait to meet him either! And don't think I forgot about you, Sir Maulsalot! Oh, I'd say you're the cutest of them all, awuwuwuwuwuwuwu!"

With that the Divine did a full spin around as she remained rested in her tear, before beginning to drift back towards the front. "Oh, there's just so many of you! I'm so sorry I can't say hello to you all, but it's already taking so long! I'm so happy to meet you all, though, and getting to know you!"

Even as the Divine drifted past the Prince, he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, and the look on his face made it clear. He had always believed the Divines had existed, but meeting one so suddenly, out in the middle of nowhere… It had been the last thing he had expected.