Days prior to the Festival…

A gathering such as this had not been about since days of old. The King of the Holy Kingdom, the Emperor of the city of the snow, The Heir to the jewel of the Sands and last but certainly not least, the Ruler of the Province Adrift all gathered under one roof for a colloquy to discuss the future of Ruyunae. In the past such a gathering had another filled seat, that of the King of Aucrun. Ever since that fateful day all those years ago a seat always remained empty at these gatherings. Amidst the stuffy room the multiple candle lights and shining aura of the chandelier above provided a more than adequate means of setting the mood. The lavish red carpets against the mahogany and cushioned chairs made for a cozy addition to the atmosphere. The room the leaders were in was nestled in the middle of the Grand Castle in the Holy Kingdom. This room was specifically designed with these kinds of meetings in mind. Given such a notion the room had all the different banners of the major kingdoms adorning the walls. The glass stained windows along the back wall letting those see the outside world and gaze upon the vast landscape from the midpoint of the castle. The land was currently beset by a ravaging storm at the moment. Thunder boomed and heavy rained pounded against the gorgeous windows. The two Holy Kingdom guards standing by the door could feel the tension in the air as their eyes darted around the room. The Heir to the Sands brought her own trusted guard as well and he was standing tall right next to her chair. While none had the notion of harming another leader, the extra layer of security was mostly seen as an addition of trust.
The silence in the room was met with piercing gazes from each of the major leaders save for the Ruler of the Province Adrift. Breaking the silence the Heir of the Sands spoke up, placing one of her hands on the table and another pointed towards the King of the Holy Kingdom. ”So tell me this then, what would you have us do? We are not the leaders of old, we do not have enough information to act so tell me jun’lan what is it you propose?” The heir was still young and she was exactly as the time old tradition of Sweym Sma: an heir to the hold. Her bronzed skin had a myriad of multi color markings all along her arms and legs and her sun bleached blonde hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. She had a multitude of jewels acting as a makeshift crown of some kind as well as a necklace.
The King of the Holy Kingdom opened his mouth but he was quickly interrupted by another at the table. The Emperor of the city in the snow raised his voice at first, ”We understand your frustration young one, given this is your first of many meetings with such prestigious voices. But please act as your nobility entails. As we are all aware your father’s health is an ill omen, we understand your father’s declining health as well but if anger on that matter is holding your heart then you will not be able to have sound judgement. Like it or not you lead people now. There is a reason your father sent you here and not himself. I mean all due respect.”
The high elf stood from his chair and gave the woman a proper bow. His pale skin and long pointed ears would stick out in a room anywhere. His long black and blue robe fitted with runic symbols along the sleeves spelled mystery. His voice was cold but one could tell given his age and status he harbored no ill will. The King still had his hand up, holding a thought but the Emperor was not finished. He finished his bow and fixed his robe before sitting back down. ”Now then, I propose the High King send the young man to the Empire for further study. If he is connected to that which you believe he is then we could learn so very much. I implore you High King, think not only of your people but the good of Ruyunae. Centuries ago our ancestors lost the one thing they had to gain more knowledge of what exactly HE WAS! Now you tell us that another one has been granted the same gifts and you want him to what exactly? Stay here in the Holy Kingdom and rot away? Do not play coy with me High King. I know where the young man is and if I was not a respecting Emperor I would take him back to Linmark before you could recite your pledge to the Mother-Goddess. Furthermore I-“
”That is enough…” A soft, almost endearing voice raised itself from the room. All fell silent once again as the sound of the rain and winds outside echoed through the room. The high king had tabled his thought as he remained calm from the fire of the Emperor. The Ruler of the Province Adrift had spoken up, her own hand softly grasping the forearm of the Emperor and lowering it to the table before releasing it. ”You must understand great Emperor everyone at this table values the progress of knowledge as much as you do. However, the young man is a citizen of the Holy Kingdom and as such his being belongs here. If I may add as well, if this young man is truly who the High King claims him to be then we have a much more pressing matter to discuss: Aucrun. You all felt it, I am sure. If you say you did not then you are lying. Coming from the four corners brought us closer to that cursed land than ever and we can all sense that something is festering in the darkness. Something truly evil. If this follows the legend of old then should we not be preparing for coming conflict? Your gates are the closest High King…”
All eyes turned to the grizzled elderly man in the golden crown. His gruff expression radiating respect as he was clearly a man who had seen his fair share of life. His guards were also looking to him, now caught up in the conversation even though they were meant to be focusing on security.

”I will not deny the aura of evil radiating from the betrayed land closest to my Holy Kingdom. But we are a land bathed in the light of the Mother-Goddess so we have nothing to fear.” The king stood up from his chair with a soft grunt and held his hands behind his back as he walked over to one of the windows. The faces in the room followed and the Emperor himself stood up as well. ”I believe in the legend of the Seraph. It is why my Kingdom holds his title in such a prestigious manner. If my forefathers had the chance to thank him properly after that day… I can only imagine what would have transpired. Regardless, the Festival of the Lights is fast approaching. You all gathered here for this meeting but also to attend the Festival. I can assure you our security will be on high alert. I hope you all enjoy yourselves. On the day of the Festival you will see the young man I speak of. The day of the Festival will decide a lot of things for the future...”

The High King fixed his robe and made his way back to his chair. The Emperor sat down as well but his arms were folded over his chest. ”I have sent my finest knights into the betrayed land to find and purge this evil. They encountered random monsters, even a few beings of demonic nature here and there but they all returned. I sent them multiple times and they all reported the same thing: monsters, more demons and a dead land. That was until recently. For this voyage I sent one my most notable paladins into the dark land with a small gambit. The man returned but not everyone in his company came back. I sent 8 into the land that day and only two came back. Such is the price, they knew the risk but it still pains me to this day to know I sent innocent men and women to die. I apologize, I am getting off track. My paladin, he spoke to me when he returned. He said the aura in the city was among the most foul and evil things he had ever felt. He said it spoke to him. Claimed it was wanting back what was originally its own. The paladin assured me this was demonic nonsense but… I do not believe it to be so. The arrival of the young man I have closely guarded in the Sanctum of my Kingdom and this evil presence are most certainly connected. But I implore you all to wait until after the Festival. I want my people, and those coming from all corners of Ruyunae to feel at ease during this time of Festivities. Let the burdens of our people fall on our shoulders. Now then… we have more to discuss…”

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The Day of the Festival…

A few days passed since that colloquy of leaders met to discuss heavy topics. Now life had moved on and the people of Ruyunae were flooding into the largest gathering area in all of Ruyunae. The Holy Kingdom of Khrousahvell had been dolled up for the occasion. It’s gorgeous white walls and towering buildings had been outfitted with banners of all the different major holds and cities of Ruyunae. As well as the banners of small cities and holds and even representation of towns and leagues or guilds. The gates to the Holy Kingdom did not open until about Mid-day and once they did the city felt like the center of the universe.
The streets were packed, voices were booming over each other and those that wanted a quiet respite had to search quite hard to find one. Only a few parts of the Holy Kingdom were off limits during the festival. The King’s Castle, the Barracks of the knights and the Sanctum of the Mother-Goddess. The rest of the city and its winding and twisting streets were open. Though the major festivities were happening in the center, the grand pavilion right next to the Glorious Market. No one had seen such finer festivities. In the center of the grand pavilion stood the steps up to the four braziers as well as the statue of the Seraph of Old. He stood proud, his stone cape depicted as fluttering with the wind but obviously stationary. His right hand raised aloft with sword in hand and his left clutching a book. The four braziers by his feet were unlit of course, as the main event of the festival was the lighting of such braziers.

Right now, one would find great merriment among the mixing of the people. Strands selling the different kinds of foods available from the different corners of the world were available. Merchants selling their wares stood around every corner. The races were enjoying this great time to mingle and mix with each other. Elves with Humans, Dwarves with Beast-folk and all the other races. Anyone who was civil could find themselves having a good time. No one in the midst seemed to be having a sour time. A multitude of mead drinking contests had started up and they intended to go on for the entire day and potentially even the night!

Song and dance had sprung about as the stand next to the steps to the braziers was adorned with dancing jesters, bards playing different instruments and vocalists singing the most beautiful of tunes. Hours into the joyous festival a schedule of events for bards and other performers appeared on the stage. It would seem the Bard’s Guild had devised a plan for the festival this year to be more organized and give exposure to song and dance of the various regions. It started off with traditional song and dance of the Elthari people, followed soon by an epic tale of heroism and the founding of Sweym Sma, the Holy Kingdom’s closest ally. Soon, song and dance of the people of Linmark found its way to the eyes and ears of the festival goes and those who heard it would swear there was siren or two involved. The people of Linmark even worked magic into their performance to bring about a truly breathtaking experience.

Games had sprung about as well. Hatchet throwing contests, tournaments of strength and a wide range of games for little ones was available as well. Tours of the city were going on and one could even visit the Library if they so choose to do so. Amidst the chaos of merriment one thing did bring about attention to the masses. The doors to the Sanctum of the Mother-Goddess opened and a very serious looking priest all dressed in white and red garb came marching out. He was followed by a small group of three priests who had their faces hidden by hoods. They meandered through the crowds and parted the sea of people as they did. Once they reached the steps leading up to the braziers the priest leading the people stopped a few steps up while the hooded priests continued their way up to the braziers.
The song and dance subsided slowly and the talking quieted down as the many faces of the people of Ruyunae in the grand pavilion. His expression forced a change as a smile adorned his face followed by a still wave,

“Be calm, festival goers. The lighting of the Braziers will not begin yet.” His voice was somewhat shrill… but that was to be expected of a man in his position one would thing. His long nose and hobbled posture gave way to slow movements now. He cleared his throat and waved once again. “The King is not here to recite the pledge to the Mother-Goddess! You may continue to be merry. The festival is far from over!”

With that the people went about their business. Music started back up and the conversations started to pile over each other once again. The priests stood together and talked among themselves. The three others still had their hoods up and still had what appeared to be traditional garb. Shortly after this two of them stepped down the steps and made their way back in the direction of the Sanctum of the Mother-Goddess. The lighting of the lights would begin very soon. The Festival still had a long way to go, but the sun was nearly setting and the braziers were meant to be lit right before sun set to pay homage to the Seraph and his companions bringing light to the darkness. The journey of new heroes would begin very soon. The plan by those who work in the darkness was about to begin.
Those who had received visions prior to attending the festival would be visited by one final true sight no matter what they were doing. If they were passed out drunk, engaging in song and dance or simply having a good time with lively conversation a voice would ring out in their ears. “… You… You are here! A… Oh how wonderful! Please… Please find my child…! Aaaalll… All will be made, clear… yOu must trust me.”
With that the voice would fade and would not repeat itself.

Letitia had been on the road for a few days now, so she was finally glad to have reached her destination after so long. Right on time, too. The Festival seemed to be in full swing. People from various different lands and cultures had all come together to celebrate the occasion. The Homunculus blinked. This was... strange. There were more people here than she had ever seen before. More than she could count, perhaps. No, she could count them all, it would just take far too long. She knew she had to find the Seraph, but...

There were so many people. So many lights. Sounds she had never heard before. It was an assault on the senses.

There was simply so much to see.

Pulling up the hood of her ill-fitting cloak, the Homunculus blended into the crowd. Back then, she could count the number of people she had seen on her fingers. Nine, to be precise; eight Caretakers, and Father, of course. She had no idea how to get around, but she simply stayed quiet and funneled into a group of people, following what seemed to be a 'flow' of foot traffic. Soon, she found herself within the Glorious Market.

She could feel a slight rumbling in her stomach and recognized the feeling of hunger. Ever since she had left the tank, she could feel it and would need to eat to make the pain disappear. Homunculus could, of course, go without food and drink much longer than normal humans, simply subsisting upon their stores of mana, but that did not make the act any more enjoyable. Her senses brought her to a stall where an older man peddled his wares. Unlike many of the things here, Letitia actually managed to recognize one of the pieces of food that were on sale: an apple.

Apples were, for lack of a better term, her favorite food. While she was in the laboratory, she was typically given bread or porridge to eat. Sometimes, she was instead given a direct mana injection, so as to replenish her energy. It was only when Father had snuck in an apple for her that she had had her first taste of other food. The apple in front of her looked... strange, however. It seemed to be coated in a strange, brown substance, and it had a stick embedded onto the top of it. It still, however, looked quite appetizing.

The store vendor seemed to notice her gawking and called out to her. "You want a candied apple, miss? It'll only run you a couple of coins, and they're pretty damn good if I do say so myself."

Letitia tilted her head at that. Ah. Coins. Currency. The carriage driver had asked for some, too. It seemed like she could exchange those decorative metal chips in exchange for goods and services. The Caretakers did not use currency while in the labs, but thankfully, a concept like this is... easy enough for a Homunculus to understand. It was good of Father to provide her with a bag of such coins before he sent her away...

...

The artificial Human groped around her side in search of the bag but found nothing. As if to confirm it, she double-checked her rucksack, but again, it was not there. Strange. Had she misplaced it? The man at the counter gave her a look of pity. "Looks like someone stole your coinpurse. Tough break, miss." She did not understand.

"To steal is to take possession of, yes? If so, why did someone take it from this one when it does not belong to them?" Letitia asked.

The man scratched his head at her sudden question. The way she spoke drew some attention, too. "...you're not from around here, are you? Sometimes, thieves make off with other people's stuff. That's just how it is." As if to address these concerns, the man reached down towards the counter and offered her one of the candied apples. "Here, on the house. Try and enjoy the festival."

She did not understand, but she complied. Letitia gingerly took the apple from his hands, examining it for a moment before biting down on it. This is..! She thought as an explosion of flavor graced her tongue. It was much, much sweeter than the apples that Father had given her, and it was easily the tastiest thing she had ever eaten in her life. The Homunculus discarded the fact that she was stolen from shortly afterward, instead opting to enjoy the candied treat. The vendor chuckled at the sight of it as she found her way to a nearby stone bench. Letitia was about halfway through the impromptu meal when she heard a familiar voice in her head.

“… You… You are here! A… Oh how wonderful! Please… Please find my child…! Aaaalll… All will be made, clear… yOu must trust me.”

It was the voice from her dream. Homunculi do not dream, and yet, here she was. Was she dreaming again, in spite of being awake? She did not understand, but she remembered why she had come. She needed to seek out the Seraph. She needed to know. Letitia quickly finished her apple, before getting up to walk around some more. She did not know who or what she was looking for, exactly, but she figured she might be able to identify him once she saw him.

Warren had left his village with nothing more than the clothes on his back with the curses of his people weighing on him. He was the chief's son but once he started having the visions and had talked about leaving their hidden village others drew away from him. Finally he told his father he was going leaving without another word. He would keep their secret and decided that he wouldnt come back unless he had an extremely good reason.

He had reached the city where he was supposed to find the being his visions were leading him to. Apperently a festival was active within the city and creeping into the surrounding area as well. Sitting in a tree where he could view the city wall and the gatehouse he saw that the guards were being just a jovial as the citizens. Masks adorned some of their faces as well as decorative clothes. Some even dressed as spirits of the wood. He saw his way in without causing a scene. Though he saw some of his less beastial kin he wasn't about to stride in without something to cover his more animal like features.

Cupping his hand next to the tree and whispering lightly it set him down on the forest floor. Then he spoke to a tree who was at the last of his years. It yearned to be something more than to just die so Warren offered it a bargain. "I will take your bark, trunk and what leaves you have left as a disguise. In exchange I will take your soul and place it in an acorn and you shall accompany me. You shall see all that I see and will one day become a spirit of the wood taking your bark, trunk, and leaves back so you can disguise yourself as a tree whenever you wish." The tree smiled widely within its soul and agreed to the bargain. With that Warren took an acron who had not received a soul. It wasn't rare that it happened but uncommon. Warren chanted the ancient language that he learned from the medice woman and the tree's soul flowed into the acorn. With that Warren took the bark and leaves fashioning them into a cloak that flowed so long it trailed a bit being him covering his legs very well. The truck he shaped with magic into a mask that covered his snout, forming it so that it would open and close with his mouth. They wouldn't be able to see anything but his tongue only if he stuck it out. His arms were covered by the sleeves and hands covered with wooden coverings so as not to expose his claws. Satisfied he began his trek to the gates as a seven foot tall wood spirit with dragging cloak.

He reached the gates people gasped and a guard froze. "Hello ." Warren said waving his wooden hand. "Just here to enjoy the festival. You like my costume? It took two years to make and it's hard to put on but worth every second from the look on your faces now." The ploy seemed to work as people smiled before moving along. The guard congratulated him on his success and said that if he didn't know any better he might have thought that he was an actual wood spirit. Warren had laugh an proceeded inside.

Exploring he found the city decently easy to navigate even with his bulky costume. Taking a back alley he stayed there to get out of the crowd then noticed an abandoned building partially damaged. He moved and jumped to the top with only a small section falling to the ground. Then he heard it...

Another vision struck him like he had been hit by a a flying boulder. It almost knocked him off the ledge he was on. The words and places flashed in his mind then echoed as he steadied himself. Breathing heavily he sat back looking out. There was a statue of what looked like a hero and people in robes stood close by it. Warren just sat there content with no one around him. Removing his mask he sat and watched the revelry around him. Something was going to happen here. His vision said it would.

A drunken slumber from the night before almost decided what he was going to do next. But it was decided, he would continue the party and drinking of the night before as that is the best way to shake a drunken hangover, right? Leopold stared out over the street in front of the building he was in, and it was filled with people.

"Today is the day, today is the day!" he said gleefully as he stood up from where he was taking a slumber and he immediately fell forwards onto the person laying on the floor in front of him, his legs giving out from lack of plenty of things. "Maid I..." that was the maid on the floor he realized, along with a bunch of other passed out drunks and renegades in this upper floor room. "Can someone get me another drink! And one that is light?" he muttered on the floor as he crawled back up to the bed.

Taking the situation of what was happening in the room, he looked about and then he looked down, realizing he had no shirt, was sticky and covered in a clear brown liquid that had dried on him. He knew what he had to do, he laid back down on the bed feeling the warm pillow below his head. A very hairy but comfortable pillow, he closed his eyes for a moment before the pillow would rumble. This was no pillow, this was some hairy man under his head. He leaned up again and took in the situation, there were several people piled on the bed, his spot had already been occupied by one the hairy, relatively large man.

"I should have known this was a terrible idea... the only woman I see is the maid who I assume is also in a drunken morning stupor like I am..." he slowly placed his legs on the floor and slid onto his feet, managing to stand with the strength of being help up with his arms, and his legs finally realizing they had strength in them he stood and stretched. He popped like a bag of popcorn, his back, shoulders arms, neck, they all cracked and popped. That is when everyone awoke and began sturring.

He slowly found his way outside that room and into a short hallway with other doors and a stairwell, also full of people, he headed downstairs and found that it looked more like a drunken riot. There weren't any people there, but there was a nice sign that showed that there was at least a wooden tub and maybe somewhere to change clothes. He would enter that room soon after.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Several hours later he would still be in the room, but far more desensitized, he had entered the bathhouse of the establishment, he had not gotten what he had hoped for or dreamed for, like a nice room full of beautiful young maids to bathe and clean him. No, instead he found a bunch of drunken men bathing in the small pool. He sat between two groups, a group of large burly men that were loud, and a group of elderly men who seemed to be acting smart and just as loud with their bickering.

A voice would enter his mind, and overwhelm his senses, or at least overwhelm his patience.

"Will you shut it, old man, I will find this child of yours!" he yelled at one random man in the group of old men. Getting confused stares, he decided it was best to leave to which he dried himself and left, no longer sticky, the next thing on the agenda to get dressed in clothing and go home or find what he was wearing and go home.

He would find a new pair of pants, a size too big, a shirt, three sizes too big, his belt, stretched out a bit, his boots, and his pouch bag. To this, he would enter the street in hopes of finding his way home or someone to find him and take him home so he may start this festival off with dignity or end it depending on what day and hour it was.

Linmark was a cold place, a very cold place. Those people born there were accustomed to snow falling winter and summer, to the sun never reaching as high above the horizon as it did in other regions and to the ubiquity of ice. Setariél, despite his other self that was as undesired as it was rather new, was no exception to this. He had felt quite comfortable beneath a thick layer of cloth and fur as long as there had been chill winds and dark nights, but the further he had traveled towards Khrousahvell the more rare these conditions had become. His body just wasn't equipped for this kind of warm environment, so despite not having to walk himself but sitting on a horse-drawn cart Setariél had started sweating. By the time the man had reached what was bound to be the epicentre of the festival he had actually disposed of as many clothes as one reasonably could without breaking common societal rules.

Not hindered by any kind of sleeves, sunlight continuously pounded the skin around his tremendous bi- and triceps and did the same to the major part of his legs. He'd probably regret this within hours, but not exposing his pale skin to too much sunlight meant that he'd have to expose his body to too much heat and he held silent hopes for the former problem fixing itself much faster by adaptation. On the plus side of things it didn't seem like many people were paying much attention to his appearance. Apparently they had too much else to do or they thought of this actually being some kind of costume based on a lot of mere paint Setariél imagined.

Setariél had mixed himself into the very heterogenous and no less large crowd of people who were paying attention to the plethora of attractions, businesses and other things the festival had to offer. The slow current of people was pushing him into more or less chaotic directions, but at least he was able to see over the other people's heads and keep track of where things were going. How many mead drinking contests had he already passed while struggling with the temptation to try and beat them ? If it had not been for the awesome artistic performance of some of his countrymen and -women distracting him he would certainly have given in to the last one. Anyway... a large bag of sweets had already found its way onto his elbow and greedy consumption had set in. He'd probably come out of this festival a little bigger than he had come in, but still this was much preferable to ending up totally drunk.

After all, Setariél tried to remind himself, he had serious business to do. He was not here for indulging himself, but rather because of investigation that required a clear mind. Those visions were discomforting, he didn't want to have those unasked interruptions! Still Linmark had no lack of people taking magic and supernatural stuff serious and he himself had no intent to just ignore the message they delivered. Well... at least they delivered one and weren't just random nonsense. And then, just as the giant male was about to toss another piece of candy into his gaping mouth, it hit him:

“… You… You are here! A… Oh how wonderful! Please… Please find my child…! Aaaalll… All will be made, clear… you must trust me.”

Setariél started coughing the hell out of himself -- candy was no good it one's respiratory system. By bowing forwards and clapping onto his back with his own hands as hard as he could, he pushed aside the crowd around him vigorously. Those... damn... visions! The nicely colored piece of sugar finally came out flying and Setariél sat down on the ground in order to calm himself. Now what to do... What kind of child had this voice been talking about ? Finding any kind of person during this festival felt like a challenge being next to impossible.

The joyous nature of the Festival of the Lights was contagious. Everyone that wanted to be seen was having a good time and those that seemed to visit the Holy Kingdom for other means were still able to have their needs accommodated and their businesses handled. The Festival may have been the biggest event in the Holy Kingdom’s history, but it did not interrupt matters deemed important. The gathering of the land’s great rulers that met a few days prior to the Festival enjoyed themselves as well and kept important matters to a minimum. Almost all of them had parted ways with the King of the Holy Kingdom and made their way back to their respective lands under the cover of regular citizens as to avoid drawing attention to themselves. The only one that had stayed was the Heir to the Strand of the Sands. The desert land of Sweym Sma and the Holy Kingdom shared a bong forged in the fires of war. The story differs depending on if you believe in the legend of the Seraph or not…
If you do believe in the Legend of the Seraph then you understand the notion that when Mal’Goxon and his malicious cult ravaged the land and sought to bring darkness to every corner of the earth, Sweym Sma was the first place the Seraph visited in his quest. There he befriended a notable sword master who agreed to travel with him so long as he helped her with something first. It was a simple task: The rise of Mal’Goxon had amplified the demon spawn and monsters in the desert region and a particularly powerful Monster had been created. It was a terrible sand wrym capable of swallowing two to three soldiers in a single motion. Or so the tale states… Regardless the Sand Wyrm was bested by the sword master and the Seraph and the two returned as heroes. It is said the Seraph sought no reward for his hard work and the sword master in turn refused any monetary or status from such a feat. Instead the two pleaded with the current Heir to reinforce relations with the Holy Kingdom. To strengthen a bond that could not be broken by darkness for they would need it to vanquish the darkness. So, Sweym Sma did as the Seraph and his first notable companion asked and it felt like every month from that point had an envoy from the Holy Kingdom in the desert city or vice versa.
If you do not believe in the Seraph then you also know of the Sand Wyrm that plagued the lands. It was never said to be brought about by the rise of Mal’Goxon, but that it had existed since the first few bricks of Sweym Sma had been planted. The Sand Wyrm was a dangerous beast and plagued the land of Sweym Sma for generations. Sweym Sma had its fair share of dangerous monsters so this sand wyrm was not the only true threat. Regardless, the story goes that a large group of bandits and brigands had someone managed to tame such a creature. They used it to bring havoc to the city and the desert once more until an illustrious sword master stepped forth. She beat back the bandits but the sand wyrm still lived. The story continues to state that a battalion of Holy Kingdom soldiers was requested and the High King somehow managed to fulfill their request. Not nearly as flashy sounding as the tale of the Seraph and this version of the story is mainly believed by skeptics.

---

The sun had started to set. The evening was coming and the time of the true meaning of the Festival was at hand. The festivities calmed down and as quickly as it had been set up by the Guild of the Bards the stage they performed on was taken down to make room for what they knew would be a big event. A large clearing had been made, almost like a parting of the sea waves from the Sanctum up to the steps of the Braziers and the statue of the Seraph. Conversations among the many festival goers continued as things seemed to have a tension in the air. Some minutes passed and nothing happened… even more minutes passed before what felt like an eternity of waiting. After more time passed, a light in the twilight sparked from the Sanctum. A bright yellow shined amidst the crowded city and the light shined the symbol of the Holy Kingdom.
Seconds later the double doors to the Sanctum opened up and the High Priest along with four other priest made their way through the city towards the steps to the statue and the braziers. Behind them was a young man. He walked behind them at a slightly slower pace and his gaze was… strange. If one caught a glimpse of him they would see his eyes seemed glazed over and his expression blank. His hair down to his shoulders and the back part pulled up into a short, messy ponytail. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt to go with his matching leathers and his right arm had a solid black band around it. The group of five continued through the city before they stopped at the steps of the Braziers and the statue. Conversations continued but they had died down significantly. The young man amidst the group of priests seemed to sway to the right a bit before one of them caught him by the arm and gave him a stern look.
Very shortly after this small gathering trumpets and drums began to play. The royal procession began and the King and his trusted guard emerged from a parting crowd. The High King was not shy around his people. An elderly man with a long white beard and matching eyebrows and hair. He walked just fine for his age and he was not wearing any jewels or his crown. He had donned a white robe just as the Priests had but with different symbols and a large crest of his family along the chest. As he walked through the crowd he would every so often step out of line of his guard and shake hands with those who would reach for him and even say a few words to the commoners. The music continued up until he and his guard reached the steps to the braziers as well. There he and the High Priest exchanged a few words before working their way up the steps. The priests started to gather a few things and prepare the braziers and the simply had the young man before them stand next to the High Priest who seemed to have a tight grip on his left arm. The High King cleared his throat before raising his hands to address his people. ”Honored Guests, citizens of every corner of Ruyunae I thank you for visiting our great Kingdom for this momentous occasion. It is not every day a Festival of such nature is held and to attend one and repeat the details to a younger generation is truly marvelous. Given we are differing races, we humans do not particularly live long lives like most of you. This will be my first and only Festival of the Lights to host and I cannot thank you all enough for making it one of the best the Holy Kingdom has ever seen.”
The High Priest quickly whispered something into the High King’s ear before moving over to the Braziers. The High King cleared his throat before continuing.
”We remember today the sacrifice of a brave band of heroes who went through unimaginable horrors all for our sake. They fought for one thing in mind: Peace for all of Ruyunae. In the darkest hour in this great land’s history our beloved Mother-Goddess sent us one of her own. A child blessed with her divine power. One we came to call the Seraph. He gathered fierce and talented heroes and together they reunited Ruyunae and brought back the light and sent the evil that plagued our land back to the cesspool it emerged from.”
The High King paused a moment to gather his breath and a few claps and sounds of approval for his message could be heard. ”We live in different times now. We do not know what the future will hold but as long as we remember the sacrifice of those of old and keep the bonds the Seraph kindled in our hearts strong we head into the future with our head’s high. For this land is…-“ A low rumble emerged from an unknown location. At first it sounded like the rumbling of thunder… but no lightning could be seen. The sky was cloudy but the clouds were white and fluffy. The High King turned behind him and looked past the statue as another rumble was heard. Shortly after a loud crackle of what sounded like glass breaking pierced the ears of everyone who could hear and a beam of dark purple and black energy shot up into the sky in the distance. Its location was coming from the Land Betrayed. Amidst the chaos the High Priest began to act.
In a flash he released the young man who simply fell to his knees and began to clutch his right arm. The High Priest held the High King in a hold and he began to struggle with him. Panic erupted and the King’s guard sprung to action. A dignified man who appeared to be the captain stepped forward with his gallant blade drawn.
“High Priest! What is the meaning of this!? Release your King this instant!”

The High Priest gave no quarter and let loose a shrill laugh. From his right hand emerged a dagger cloaked in shadow. In the same manner he appeared he provided the High King a swift stab to his lower abdomen. Immediate panic erupted from the crowd as the High Priest let the King slowly fall to his knees before him. The guards advanced but the Priest held his right hand up and the dagger disappeared. Spheres of dark magic emerged and cascaded among the guards to send them tumbling down the marble steps.
The priests behind the High Priest seemed to stagger back in shock at this sudden turn of events. The pillar of dark magic booming from the ground in the Land Betrayed was not emitting a low hum. The High Priest took in a deep breath and let out a rather exasperated sigh as he seemed to relish the moment.
”Every corner of this world will soon know our name. What better day to announce our presence than on this ACCURSED day of lights. You ignorant fools know nothing. Where Mal’Goxon failed my new master shall succeed. And this time…”
The High Priest manifested that same shadowy dagger he had used to wound the King minutes ago and raised it against the young man who stood before him. A sinister grin encroached along his sunken, pale cheeks. Without hesitation he thrust the dagger into the young man’s abdomen. More gasps emerged from the crowd as many people started to leave the scene and turn to safety. The guards had regained their composure and the knight captain reclaimed his blade and stood at the base of the steps.
“You will stand down High Priest! Step away from the King and the young man!”
Again the High Priest simply chuckled as his gaze was stuck on the young man he had stabbed. The young man was now grasping at the Priest’s arms and clenching them as the dagger was turned in his abdomen. A loud groan of pain echoed through the streets as the man threw his head back and clenched his teeth to try and subdue the pain.
”What’s the matter?” The high priest whispered in his raspy voice. ”I know what you are. I will not allow you to kindle your strength or the powers of those you are destined to meet. You will not stand in the way of my master’s plan.”
Minutes later he tore the dagger out of the young man and he slowly fell to his knees and tumbled partly down the steps before the knight captain caught up and raised him to his feet before handing him off to the guards behind him. Rage filling the knight captain as he held his blade high.
“You… fiend! You will pay for this!”
Just as soon as he started to charge up the steps the High Priest waved his left hand and a dense black smoke filled the area. The smoke billowed forth and covered the entire central area and deemed visibility immensely low. It was difficult to see one’s own hand in front of them. The only thing that could be seen vaguely was the pillar of dark magic off in the distance that had now grown in size. Panic was amplified as the guards did their best to create some sense of order.
Then, just as darkness had sprung upon the Holy Kingdom, a light made itself know. A strange light. One unknown to common citizens and even unchosen nobles, but not uncommon to you. Ones who had received the visions. In the darkness a faint light sparked and steadily grew brighter and brighter still. Brighter until it would cause one to look away. The light seemed to be a strange series of markings and they were raised about mid-way amidst the dark cloud. Seconds passed the lights in the dark moved to the right a bit and billowed forth a soothing, warm essence. The essence of light itself. The black smoke was cleared and the source of the light was none other than the young man himself. His eyes were shining with a piercing white and blue hue and the markings all along his right arm followed the same mannerism. He held his right hand aloft for a few more seconds until the smoke had all but vanished and then he lowered it with a soft sigh. His eyes lost the glow and the markings dimmed down but they remained. The clothing along his right arm had all but been burned away it would seem.
The high priest showed obvious displeasure at this. ”Impossible. You were not permitted to train such power. It was meant to lay dormant and die with you, accursed child! Feh… No matter. You are still weak. I tire of this guise and these games.”
With twisted magic the High Priest shifted his appearance to that of demonic nature. He had revealed his true nature it would seem. His skin now much darker and his bones visible in some parts of his body. Large horns protruded from his malformed skull and his eyes were a solid black. He snapped his skinny fingers and several other demon spawn appeared before the young man at the bottom of the steps.
The guards around him were panicking and drawing their weapons and the Knight Captain was growing more and more agitated. The King lay by this demon’s feet and the Knight Captain was torn.
“Horrid demon. You WILL pay for this!”
The now shown demon rolled his eyes and pointed to his underlings. [b]”Kill the young man. Make sure he dies here and NOW. When he is dead you may kill as many as you like. My Master must know of this…”
With that the demon skulked into the shadows of a portal and vanished from sight. The grotesque demonic underlings inched closer to the wounded young man and the sparingly few knights before him. The Knight Captain rushed up the remainder of the steps to aid the King.
One of the guards clutched the young man on the shoulder. “Can you fight?!” He asked before handing him a small dagger even before he got an answer. The young man had one hand still on his wound in his abdomen and the other now clutching this small dagger. The demons before them itching for a fight. Seconds later the first blow was drawn. One of the guards leaped forward and gave one a good slash across the chest before going back to a defensive stance. Many of the citizens in the area had all but vanished, leaving the area to fight quite large. The young man held his dagger close and eventually charged forward with the knights around him to hopefully make it out of this battle alive. It looked bleak. Extra forces would be needed for this bout.

Warren had smelled a strange scent when the high priest had came on stage and as things had progressed his mood changed to one of worry which put him on alert. Then the dark beam flew over head. Warren stood ripping his cloak off and watches from the tall building as the high priest killed his king and tried to kill the young man. Then the light. Warren knew it was time. Warren watched the high priest escape but at the last second he willed a seed to follow. It did and caught a ride on the robes the thing was wearing. It extended spines into the robe and Warren felt a faint connection seeing in his minds eye a little of the surroundings of the seed. Hearing came next as he listened just the rustling of the cloak.

Warren brought his focus back to the battle below and snarled. His more beastial form took shape as his placed his cloak and belongs down under some wood then lifted his head and let out a howl that disrupted the battle. Heads turned on both sides. Warren was a mass of fur and fangs. Whisps of green smokey energy trailed off him as he jumped high then down onto a demon.

Almost as if ferrel Warren tore into the creaturea of darkness. "Seraph of light, your mother has sent me visions to aid you in all I can!" Warren now stood between the kid and the demons. Fighting them off he turned only slightly. "Captain get the king though he may have already perished out of here. It'll do no good for him to be mangled at a funeral."

Warren had then been caught unaware. Claws raked across him and Warren howled in pain jumping back to the kid. "Sorry kid looks like I'm not going to be able to hold them all off." Warren stood again holding a defensive stance hoping reinforcements would arrive. He couldn't have been the only one to have had visions.

After weaving her way through the crowds, the Homunculus found herself in the center of the city's plaza. Following their movements, she ended up near the edge of the clearing that they had made. The silence and anxiety of the crowd did little to phase her, though she did begin to wonder as to when Seraph would appear. Soon enough, a symbol of light appeared from the Sanctum, which prompted a group of priests to come forth, moving towards the braziers and the statue. The young man that was with them seemed... strange. Letitia felt something stirring within her when she looked at him. She did not feel anything like it before; the closest resemblance being to when she looks at Father. Perhaps he was the one she was seeking?

The artificial human shook her head as if to reorient herself. There were other people with him. They reminded her of the other Caretakers. She is unsure how she feels about that. The young man with them appeared to be in a daze as he was pulled along. Curious. Soon, an old man came along, dressed in simplistic finery for the occasion. In spite of it all, even the Homunculus could feel the sheer authority the High King exuded. No doubt about it, he was important, for one reason or another. The king took the stage, cleared his throat, and begun a speech.

All seemed fine, at first. The king spoke with grace and pride in his voice. Letitia, of course, knew of the events he spoke of to a certain extent. In her time in the laboratory, she was taught about the history of the land of Ruyunae. Her knowledge was limited to books and secondhand information, though. Prior to her escape, this is the first time she saw the world beyond the laboratory, so she only really knows information from those lessons.

In the midst of his speech, a low rumbling could be heard. This immediately put the Homunculus on edge. Soon afterward, the pillar of dark energy in the distance appeared, which confirmed her intuition. Something was wrong. A scene between the High Priest and the High King occurred, which quickly involved the young man from before, and the captain of the guard stationed nearby. The bystanders around the girl left the scene rather quickly in fear for their safety. Letitia remained. She was certain her aid would be needed soon.

A dark cloud of miasma erupted forth from the High Priest's hand, which quickly filled the square. The choking darkness was more than a little obtrusive, bringing forth memories of that dark room in which she awaited her fate. In response however, a piercing light shone forth and cleared away the darkness. She did not understand what this was, but she knew enough.

This was the Seraph's doing.

The High Priest quickly dispelled his disguise, summoned minions to finish the job, and disappeared. The knights moved to defend themselves and were reinforced by a strange bestial figure. More help, she supposed. The Homunculus, realizing that the battle would require reinforcements, prepared herself to assist. For some strange reason, she feels something strange whenever she looks at those demons. It was if her blood boiled and everything in her body screamed at her to fight.

To purge.

Letitia looked up at the nearest target: a horned demon that stood upon its hind legs and supported itself with its forearms. It was relentlessly striking against a knight, who was desperately attempting to fend off its assault with his shield. The Homunculus focused magical energy into the soles of her feet and caused a small pillar to erupt from the ground. This action sent her small frame hurtling towards the demon at high speeds. She performed a somersault and channeled lightning into her fist. Without so much as a battlecry, she leveled a punch at the otherworldy being's head. There was a flash of light as the demon collapsed from the attack. It slumped on the ground, dead. Efficiency was, of course, expected in her combat style.

The artificial human quickly reoriented herself and slipped into the backline to provide support for the others. She placed her palms on the worked stone that lay beneath her feet, causing earthen barricades to appear between the knights and the demons. That should give them some more breathing room.

A young man would be near the back of the crowd as the precessions would be happening. He began making his way forward bottle of liquor in his hand as he held it under his cloak. But his breaths still smelt it, and the small dribble on his somewhat unshaven face would show it. He would be confused by the beginning of the demonic part of the precession, but it would not affect him until the light. The screaming and panic would allow the man to easily get to at least the middle of the room before it was clear.

The blinding light would force him to raise his bottle to shield his eyes, but it would make it worse so he turned his head instead.

"What in God's name is today?" he would ask as the light would dissipate to the groups of people still in the room. Why were there still people in here, and why were they fighting the demonic creatures, shouldn't he be fighting those creatures? Probably, but intoxication will hinder that for the moment. He stared at the group and would mosey over to the outer wall away from the group of combatants. He would find himself in the corner with his bottle looking at the crowd and the combat.

A man wounded would eventually make his way to the drunken fool and collapse beside him, Leopold sat his hand upon the man's stomach and a light would shine from it, it would mend the wound for now, and stabilize the poor man beside him. Blood covered his hand, and he then wiped it on the man's clothes that poked out of his armor. "Stay with me, comrade, all will be alright."

Setariél had still busied himself for a while, but ultimately had decided that panicking now would not help in any way. Paying attention to detail and with his ultimate goal continuously lingering in the back of his mind, the man from Linmark had continued to enjoy the festivities. That was only until the ceremony had started, of course.

And how it could go wrong in probably one of the worst and most unexpected ways imaginable...

At first Setariél had just stared at the scenery, trying to figure out which part of it was actually still part of the ceremony and which part was clearly evil and worth fighting against. The question was answered immediately when the demonic creatures appeared. They were threatening everyone around them, trying to kill the most important people around here and then, afterwards, probably all the rest ? And then there was this other man... It dawned upon Setariél that he might be the person mentioned in the visions. Who else could it be ?

The decision to engage was made. Somewhat rudely to the outside onlooker the big man freed himself from the crowd, evening going as far as pushing people aside violently in order to speed up his approach. He couldn't draw his long sword and start fighting in the midst of people, but he also had to hurry. Needless to mention there was a stream away from the scenery that made things more difficult. Finally, having freed himself of the last people blocking his way, Setariél picked the very first demonic looking being he could find and pulled his weapon out of its sheath.

"C'mon you beast! Pay attention to me!" He didn't even know if this creature could understand his language, let alone his accent... But anyway, it was worth a try!