---

The thoughts that Caeleo inspired in her mind played over in Ivory's head. She watched Sapphira guide one of the horses down the path with her natural, nonchalant grace. It was a gripping reality that this small being had once been a part of the Void. Ivory got up, made her way to the front of the wagon, and sat in the traditional seat of the wagoner. Sapphira turned when she noticed the commotion and came to sit next to her. “You could just fly there, you know.” Ivory tried to smile at the fairy but her energy didn’t come close to matching the girl beside her.

“I know. But I like talking to you guys. You’re the first people who have talked to me since I came to Delteria.” She held on to the reigns despite the fact that the horses appeared to know exactly where they were supposed to be going. Her wings innately matched the rhythm of the wagon and shimmered in the setting sun. Ivory began to reach out to touch them. When she realized what she was doing, she jerked her hand back. Sapphira laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It happens more than you think." The Fae scooted over in the seat and turned so her wings were closer to Ivory. "It’s ok. You can touch them.” As if trying to emphasize her point, she flitted them. Ivory gave in and ran the tip of her finger along the outside edge. They were like touching silk. An energy buzzed from them that almost felt arousing. A sensation started to come over her – a familiar inkling from the past. Ivory pulled her finger away. While she cleared the cloud from her mind, Sapphira spoke up. “It’s part of my magic. Some people say it’s pure flux and can enhance any magic I use. Others say it’s just flight. Either way, it’s pretty powerful, huh? I don’t feel any different but people always have that reaction.” Ivory looked down at her hand where she touched the Fae. It looked completely normal. She felt the effects lingering, however.

“So that’s why they do it? The…uh,” She didn’t know a good way to bring up such a controversial topic. As per usual, Sapphira had no problem being blunt about it.

“The Pixie Slavers? Yeah, they’ll cut them right off; ground them up and sell it to junkies. The wings they don’t grind are usually purchased by pyrats. It gives their sails an edge. It’s a whole huge market. Crazy, right?” It wasn’t really that crazy to Ivory; she had seen her own share of ships powered by Fae wings. In her practice, she had come across those who were addicted to wing dust. It was hard finding magic to combat that addiction, since the drug was enhanced by the flux itself. And in the past, she had even been brave enough to try it. But that was another life. “What the hell is that?” Ivory’s head snapped up at the worry in Sapphira’s voice. The scene down the trail was difficult to make out with the sun setting in front of them. A few silhouettes were dragging something massive behind them, crossing the path. As they got closer, Ivory’s eyes focused.

“Oh shit,” she breathed, “ogres.”

---

“So that’s what that is,” Igneous’ artificial voice echoed his curiosity. Caeleo looked confused. “What what is?”

“OGRES?!” Sapphira squeaked from the front, as if she heard the question. Not a moment later she burst through the cloth door into the back and fluttered in the air. “THERE ARE OGRES!”

Not a single person in the back moved.

“And?” Tarkus asked.

“Well, uh, I mean…” She looked flustered as she played with her hands thinking of how to communicate her fear. Tarkus cut in.

“Ogre’s ain’t gonna hurt no one. They’re slow and stupid. Stay out of their religious politics and you’ll barely notice the brutes exist.”

Caeleo had forgotten about Ogres almost entirely. While in The Sky, he had left watching Ocan and Ogren to Ipotael and focused most of his efforts on Delterian politics. That meant he knew basically nothing beyond the existence of the Chorragus. Despite this, he tried to appear knowledgeable. “Ogric or Ocanic?”

Years ago, in Y’vera’s early years, Ogres were united on a single island called Ogren with Rissdar as its capital. They were fiercely religious and dedicated to the god Ogren. Sometime around the time of Cynthia’s fall, a new religious faction cropped up, dedicated to the god Ocan. Each faction believed their god to be the true progenitor of the species, which created enough political tension to literally split Rissdar in two when the powerful inner circle of Ogric mages known as The Chorragus split the island down the middle. Ogres aren’t terribly social because of it, and usually quite hostile.

“And what are they dragging?” Igneous didn’t even look outside. Sapphira looked surprised.

“I think it’s a bag of shit.” Ivory’s comment brought the conversation to a halt. “You mean, like-”

“Yeah, literal shit. It reeks out there.”

“Fuckin’ ogres. What the hell.”

“So we can just… slide by, right?”

Sapphira covered her nose in disgust. “Smells like we’re about to find out!”

---

“Ay, Niko, what’s that smell?”

The ogre pulling the bag took a large sniff. “I smell it too. You think it’s us?”

“You know what, I do. It’s full of shit, ain’t it?”

“Uh, is it?”

“I think. I’ve been shoving posters and those other things in there for the past 10 hours. Smell my hand.”

The ogre closed his eyes and sniffed the hand under his nose. It took him a few seconds for the smell to register. “Ogren help me that smells like shit!”

“Does it?” He took a sniff of his own hand, and, after a few moments, had the exact same reaction.

“So we’ve been carrying a bag of shit around Lothair all day?”

“Yeah.”

And the two kept moving, right into the path of the cart.

---

Ivory halted the horses about 30 yards from where the pair of ogres were crossing the path. The smell of their cargo was overwhelming. Years of medical practice had conditioned her to control her expressions in uncomfortable situations but this was pushing her limits. Tarkus and Caeleo moved toward the front of the wagon, standing on either side of her. Sapphira was, no doubt, hiding and she couldn't see Igneous. Everyone appeared calm. In most situations, if they maintained a level head, the ogres were likely to continue on their way, especially since they weren't typically magic users or merchants of any kind. This time, however, was different. As soon as the men joined her at the front of the wagon, the two creatures turned and began walking toward them. Tarkus ducked back into the wagon and shuffled around, grabbing his chair. Caeleo didn't move but she prayed that his strength mimicked Igenous'. Where was he anyway? "Igneous?" Ivory spoke in a firm, low voice. She didn't know if Caeleo would fight so she wanted the presence of someone who would.

The ogres reached the horses. The larger of the two extended his hand and pet the mane of the one closest to him. He began speaking to it in a language Ivory was unfamiliar with. Then he reached into a small pouch strapped in front of him and pulled out an apple. He fed the horse while he continued to speak to it. The smaller of the two ogres approached the wagon near Caeleo's side.

"Greetings, sons of Ogren." Caeleo gave them a slight nod as he extended verbal formalities to the pair.

"'Ello there, travelers. Care for a friendly warning?" He reached into the sack dragging behind him. Ivory felt Tarkus tense slightly. The ogre turned back, holding a paper scroll that he handed to Caeleo. "Good luck on your journey." With that, the two creatures sauntered away, back in the direction they came. Ivory leaned over Caeleo's shoulder, eager to see what the paper contained. When the Nebula unrolled the scroll, Ivory heard Sapphira gasp above her.

"A kidnapper of Fae?!"

---

Despite the rockiness of the ride, the back of the carriage was surprisingly comfortable for Tavren. They hadn't had a proper bed in almost three years. Slowly, the Cleric drifted off to sleep; only being woken by an outburst from the front of the carriage every so often.


Tavren woke with a jolt, another cleric was at their quarters with a closed noted. "Work," he said with a gruff voice. Djirge, thought Tavren. With a stern look, Djirge quietly handed Tavren the note. "You know what this is. You knew he was your responsibility. They want you to deal with it." The two were silent for a long while. "I just hope I'm not next, only a year or so left!" the older Cleric bellowed in laughter while leaving Tavren alone in the room. As they started to stand, another jolt shifted the entirety of the room, Tavren falling and landing back in the carriage once more. The old Cleric slammed on the inside of the vehicle only to hear "Yeah, I hear ya! Smoother ride!" from up front. After a few minutes, Tavren was able to sleep once again.


The old Cleric stood before a sight they had seen all too often. A fire; a village burning. Most Clerics knew to steer clear of Karn and Orn, their tactics were unsavory and their bloodlust forever unfulfilled. Tavren was sent often to clean up after the pair, but never had they seen this much damage. Most of the villagers were missing their lives or missing their limbs; some had lost both. One hut however was mostly untouched except for the broken door that lay halfway in the doorway. Upon entering, Tavren saw both the corpses of Orn and Karn still bleeding in front of a small Naga. The lizard barely able to stand was holding a bent metal bar from a nearby chair; soaked with the grey matter of one or both of the former Clerics. Behind him laid another Naga, this one on the threshold of the next world. Tavren moved toward her to attempt to check her wounds but the armed Naga stopped them.

The male Naga refused to move without the other. Tavren carefully lifted the barely breathing Naga outside as the other dragged both the broken chair and the bloodied rod behind the Cleric. The three were greeted by another group of Clerics who loudly demanded answers. The ones they received were not sufficient, a child could not end the lives of two skilled Clerics they shouted in unison. As the Clerics began to descend on the trio, Vulcure walked out from behind the other Clerics. As the Star spoke, his words slowly muffled into nothing. Tavren woke to a familar word: "A kidnapper of Fae?!" With a sigh, the aged Cleric thought I'm too old for this., as they shuffled up near the front of the carriage to get a better look at current events. "Yes, and kidnappers of Ashen as well. A bit further North by the look of it." the Star responded. "Might have to hide ya with the coats, you'll probably have enough room there," Tarkus added as the party ventured ahead.

---

As the orcs approached Caeleo, he realized he could smell. It wasn’t a sensation he was familiar with from his life in The Sky, and the stench of shit and sweat made him wish it had stayed that way. He was completely caught off guard when one of them began speaking to their horses in the Primal tongue. Caeleo did a quick translation in his head:

“Hey girl, journey’s almost over. Here, have a snack.” He pulled an apple out of a large pouch on his belt. “Ogren give you strength.”

It wasn’t often you heard people speak in Primal tongue. It was fabled to be the language of the gods, which wasn’t terribly far off from the truth. Certain magic users were able to communicate with animals using it, but nobody else, not even other Primal speakers, could understand it. Caeleo just found out he was the exception. He was glad he could give them a proper introduction:

“Greetings, sons of Ogren.”

The smell of whatever paper the smaller one handed him hit him full force. It was covered in a mix of dirt, trash, and feces, but still barely legible. The Ogres slowly continued their walk past them as he held it out to look at it. The others peered over his shoulder.

“A kidnapper of Fae?!” The fairy was terror stricken, but Igneous wasn’t sure why.

“Why would someone want to kidnap a Fae? Golems make better labor, and brothels run wild in ports, right?”

“Their wings,” Ivory replied, “They make a drug called ‘Pixie dust’ by grinding them up.”

“Well why did they give us that poster if they were being paid to take them down?”

The group collectively gave Igneous a confused look. “How do you know that?”

“I heard them. You didn’t?”

“Your creators must have given you good ears. Maybe you can hear the Lothair market from here?”

---

The port city Lothair was the melting pot of Y’vera. It was close to nearly every major faction, with the Fae to the east, Ocan and Ogren to the northwest, Delteria to the south, and Syren’s Isles to the west. On most days, humans were outnumbered by every other race. The Lothairian Strip, built up around the Delthair river running through the city’s core, was brimming with oddities and exotic items from all around the world. They were at its entrance, looking up at the tall architecture that made The Strip seem imposing and claustrophobic. A bit of Delteria’s stonebrick architecture was present, but was overshadowed by Fae crystalline structures, Naga woodwork, and large metallic Ogric pieces. People were bustling between buildings and stalls on bridges and walkways suspended far above the rivers. Some sellers even set up shop on the river itself, floating down the river serving delicacies to the many residents of Lothair.

“I’ll get us a boat. We’re ahead of the rest, so we can take a small vessel by ourselves.”

Just then, the ground shook, and a large boom hit them like a shockwave. Items fell from shelves and plates of food fell from the walkways into the river below. Igneous covered the sides of his head where his ears would be, obviously in pain.

“We better hurry.”

---

Ivory had never liked Lothair. Delteria was warmer and Tarver was a beautiful vacation destination, among other wonderful places she had visited in her life. Lothair was just - underwhelming. There were things to do but it really lived up to it's purpose - a port city where people passed through on their way to something else. Plus the citizens didn't always take too kindly to outsiders, which was ironic given the frequency of visitors. It didn't really surprise her that the area was being targeted by Pixie Slavers. It was easy to trap Fae who were unfamiliar with the area then whisk them away quickly, never to be seen again. She had watched it happen many times. The quicker they left Lothair, the better it would be for them.

When Caeleo mentioned getting a boat, Ivory followed up with her own announcement. "I need to stop by a few shops as well. It's private business, I'm sure you'll all respect my wishes to be alone. We could meet outside of the Inn at sundown before turning in for the night, yes?" Without waiting for a reply, she headed off on her tasks.

---

Caeleo and Sapphira were fighting their way to the docks through crowds of people moving every direction. Everyone had agreed to meeting in a couple hours, but he wanted to make sure a boat was ready before then. The people of Lothair weren’t perturbed in the slightest by the earthquake. They kept moving and selling and buying as they were moments earlier, as if it was just a minor disturbance. They quakes must be more regular here.

“That’ll be fifty graal.” The harbormaster was writing Caeleo’s name in on a sheet of paper

“Alright. Sapphira…?” He trailed off as he looked around for the Fae. She must have wandered off in The Delthair Strip when something nice caught her eye. And ofcourse he had given her the wallet to carry since he had no clothing to speak of. If his observations of other Tarver natives were anything to go by, she’d probably spend every last cent. He turned back to face the harbormaster.

“My Fae is missing. She had my wallet.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before. Let me guess, you want me to spot you the 50 graal and she’ll be back to give it to me?”

Caeleo gave the man a confused look. He was puzzled by his apparent generosity. “That’s perfect. Thankyou. If you see her before I do, tell her we’re at the inn.”

And so Caeleo went to the inn nearby and waited for his friends. Could I call them friends, yet? He thought to himself.

---

She counted the streets.

Four after the church with the bronze steeple.

She counted shop signs.

Two, three if you count the half broken pub banner.

There it was - the alley made of brick, with one brick missing on the very last row. Ivory looked up at the sun. She was a little later than she had anticipated because of the wheel breaking but not so late that she would miss her meeting. She lifted the hood of her cloak and glanced around her before entering the alley. She walked to the end until she reached a stack of wood pallets. She pushed them aside, revealing a small lever. She pulled the lever and stood back.

A small section of the wall in front of her popped out. She opened the door and took the staircase in front of her down, entering another alleway, this one underground. She jogged to the end and knocked on the heavy metal door in front of her. "Password" a deep voice boomed.

"Cerberus" she answered. There was a brief pause before the door slid open and a massive ogre stood in it's place. He towered over her with a scowl. In response, she smiled.

"Loro. It's been too long," she greeted him with a slight hug. "Has my item arrived?" The ogre simply nodded in response, never being a man of many words. He turned and Ivory followed. The room was bustling with men and species of every kind in various gambling exploits. The air smelled strongly of hookah and a culmination of illegal potions. Loro directed her to a back room. He shut the door behind him after they entered. He then pulled a dark chest out from under a panel in the floor. He held the lock until it popped open; a lock that was likely sealed by Fae magic. He opened the top and pulled out a dark velvet bag and handed it to Ivory. She briefly glanced inside. "I assume it's in mint condition?" He nodded again. She then reached inside her cloak and pulled out a tiny bag. "Ten Fae enchanted diamonds, as promised." She handed him the bag. "Has, uh.....has he.....?" She trailed off. Loro just shook his head. "I figured," she responded. "Well, I'm all set. Thank you for this. We'll have to get together when it's not a matter of business sometime." She smiled and hugged him again. She waded her way back through the room and up to the surface of the town with the contents of her recent purchase hidden safely away.

---

Sapphira had forgotten the fairynapping pandemic of Lothair and was blissfully unaware of the danger that pervaded around every corner of the Delthair Strip. It was one of her favorite places in all of Y’vera, with the exception of home. The Fae architecture had her quite homesick for Tarver, but the feeling quickly faded with every new shop that promised a new peppermint flavored sweet. Peppermint, surprisingly, was not a Fae creation, but rather a Dudleyan one. The farmers there use their unique brand of magic to grow all manner of mints, spices, and crops on the isle of Cretia. It was one form of magic that Sapphira failed to grasp, one of the woes of being a “master of none.”

It wasn’t until she was sitting down on the terraces of The Strip, enjoying peppermint tea and peppermint biscuit amidst the constant foot traffic, that she remembered she had Caeleo’s wallet. “Damnit!” She gulped down the last of her tea and put the biscuit snuggly in her pouch. With a hop and a skip, she soared down the strip from above, gliding through an airway full of other Fae floating about.

The harbormaster spotted her as she arrived and gave a shout over her way. “Hey there, fairy. Sapphira, is it?”

“Who’s asking?” she replied, slightly wary.

“A shiny golem mentioned you had something for me.” He tossed a bag of graal around in his hand.

“Oh! For the boat?” She let her guard down, feeling more at ease that Caeleo had already spoken with him. She pulled out the wallet. “How much?”

“Fifty.”

Sapphira began to dig through the bag of tiny gemstone slivers.

Igneous sat at the shore nearby. The crashing of the waves in front of him drowned out the sound of the streets behind him. His peace was disturbed by the fairy behind him, and he decided it was about time he regroup with the others. As he turned to face Sapphira, he saw a shipping crate and an Ashen on top of it where he expected to see her. He picked it up and handed it to the harbormaster in exchange for a bag of graal. Igneous realized what was going on when he heard her muffled cries for help coming from inside. He sprinted towards the fairynapper, but was crippled by the sound of another earthquake. By the time he had recovered, the box and harbormaster were out of sight in a freighter. He could still faintly hear Sapphira’s screams inside.

Igneous stood by the entrance to the boat and assumed a robotic position. As the harbormaster came out, he walked in. A guardsman stopped him at the door. “Ay, ‘old up there mate. What’re you coming in for?”

Igneous dutifully and dully responded. “I’m model igneous-7. I’ve been assigned for transport help by Veracity.” The only thing he knew of Veracity was that it was a trade guild. He hoped it was enough.

“Ah, I was wonderin’ when they’d send us some extra workers. Come on board. Start with section 3-C...” Igneous despondently walked on board, hoping he can free someone from the life of captivity he experienced.

The rest is another story, for another time. The rest of the ithica bound travelers were just meeting at the inn, discussing the severity of that last earthquake over some food and drink. Tarkus had learned the conflict on the island was about to brew over, threatening access to it. It was time to leave.

---

Ivory arrived at the inn before the sun had set completely. She asked for the cheapest room available but followed up with a unique request. "Do you have an enchanted safe available for purchase?" The boy behind the desk stared at her before disappearing into a back room. A man, that Ivory deduced to be his father, approached her.

"You want an enchanted safe?" He glared with a face full of skepticism.

"That's right," she answered, meeting his eyes.

"You gonna pay for it?" He questioned, never dropping his stance. "It aint cheap." He looked her top to bottom, as if measuring the state of her finances visually.

"I'm aware and I will pay your price." The man nodded briefly and snapped his fingers at the boy. The son fetched a wooden chest roughly the size of a pillow, although easily three times as deep.

"My son will have it brought to your room. Here is the lock," he said, handing her a basic metal ring that opened at one end into a "C" shape. "You just close it, hold your hand over it, and it will seal. Only your hand will be able to open it again. The magic protects the wood from being disturbed as well. Understand?" His glare returned. Ivory painted on a smile in response.

When she arrived at her room, the chest was waiting at the end of a simple bed. Across the room, a small dresser, with a mirror resting on top, sat under a covered window. It was adequate. She closed the door, making sure to lock it. She then opened the velvet bag she received from Loro. A massive, brilliantly gold egg with deep black flecks resided inside. It sparkled in the dim light of the room and seemed to hum with magic. Ivory held it in both of her hands briefly before placing it in the chest and locking it. "Soon," she whispered before heading to the front of the inn to meet with the rest of the group.

---

The inn was positioned right at the mouth of the Delthair River. Ivory had already checked in and was waiting in the pub with Caeleo. Tarkus and Tavren had gone to the shops during the day, wheeling and dealing with the various merchants of the Delthair Strip. Just as Ivory returned to her and Caeleo's table with a drink, Tarkus came bursting through the door.

"Tarkus!" Caeleo exclaimed, happy to see someone else had found their way here.

"Not so loud, you git." Tarkus spoke in a hushed tone, glancing around the pub before sitting at their table. "The whole damn order is here in Lothair, not just Tavren. He tells me they have an interest in ithica as well. They've sworn allegiance to Rolark."

Ivory sat silent. She was more preoccupied with her egg than with the politics of Y'vera at the moment. Caeleo's metal face was emotionless, but his tone of voice betrayed his uneasiness, "That's not good. If an order like those clerics have sworn allegiance to Rolark, he must have promised them something. Something powerful."

"It gets worse. In a few hours they're planning on burning the port. They don't want anyone getting on that island."

"Then we have to go!" Ivory stood up. She wasn't about to lose access to ithica, the crystal, and Elk when she was this close.

Caeleo and Tarkus stood in agreement, "Where's Tavren? Igneous? Sapphira?"

Tarkus began walking towards the door to the streets of Lothair, "I sent him to the port to get a ride ready. I haven't seen the other two, thank the gods."

Ivory headed the opposite direction, calling back to the pair, "I'll be right back. I have to get my things." Tarkus rolled his eyes and took the opportunity to finish the drink she had left on the table. He gave Caeleo a devilish grin, "Shame you can't enjoy this stuff, Caeleo. Some men live for the taste of good drink."

Caeleo kept his composure, even though he was a bit disappointed he couldn't enjoy the pleasures of good food, "And what do you live for, Tarkus?"

"Situations like these!"