Sleep is difficult outside of normal comforts, yet for working men, far easier than for others. Men who dedicate themselves to crafts, more so. So for Marz who has slept on an anvil, sleeping within the confines of solitary confinement, it was not pleasant, yet he could. His time within solitary confinment was just that, solitary. It was quiet and he had nothing to do, it left him with just thoughts, and all he could think was why was he here. What brought him to this place, what reason he accepted the request from the school. He had no clue, all he could think was that the reason him being here is idiotic at best.

In the morning, he had his answer, if not for why he accepted the request, but for why he stayed, it was for this. For a promise he made, to a child, to bring his father home. As the loud screeching of metal scraping against metal resounded within the hole Marz was in, leaving him slightly disorientated before he saw a ladder unceremoniously drop as the voice above him yelled, "Get up here already".

Marz was brought to the dining hall as here he saw everyone eating, many of them noticing him and nodding, giving confirmation that what he did was good. Choran even gave a light wave to Marz, telling him to come over, yet for Marz, he was looking for someone else. His eyes landed on Venna, who was eating alone like always. Marz took his food and began walking to her, as he sat down and looked to her.

His eyes were unwavering, unmoving as he looked to Venna, she looked up, sheepishly at first as she seemed to be in her own thoughts. But as she looked up to Marz, she realized that his eyes told everything, the overwhelming and unwavering look Marz gave her nearly seemed to tell everything, yet when no word came out as he began to eat, it left a near deafening silence.

"Uh, 'ey Marz", Venna tried to break the ice, yet nothing responded.

"Uh, yer okay, I 'eard solitary is bad", Marz did not as much made a sound just eating as he looked to her.

Sweat began to bead on Venna's head, "Is ev'rythin' okay? You seem to be starin' hard".

Marz broke his silence, "Rats".

Venna's eyes widened yet she kept her composure, "Rats? That's terrible".

Marz spoke quietly then, letting the sounds of everythign else nearly drown him out, enough so only one could hear, "Aye, a rat is terrible, especially if you trust it".

Venna nearly stiffened as she could see on Marz, his inflections, reactions, everything, even if the words only partially reached her ears, she could read what was on his face. He knew, he knows she was the reason these things happened.

Venna leaned in, "Please", as Venna seems to now almost be begging Mar.

"They have my father".

"I know"

"And my brother, he came here with my father to find me"

Marz looked to her strangely for a moment as he then asked, "Who's your father?"

"His name is Argor Halghivan, why?"

Marz sighed as he set his spoon into his bowl finishing up his meal, "Because I met your brother". Then he rose up and began to walk away.

Venna began to look around in confusion as she began to try and quickly go after him, "You did? How is he?"

"Fine, worried, missing his father", Marz then set his bowl onto the table, as a bell rang, telling everyone it was time to head off for work.

Venna tried to follow Marz, however as the general population moved, he was surrounded by those who had gathered to talk about the device, leaving her again alone, and now possibly about to be outed as a rat, and she remembered what happened last time when they found one.

Marz left with the others to begin talking about the device in the short bit of time they had. The device was almost done, all that needed to be done was last touches then testing. Marz nodded his head as he listened, letting them speak, as one finally asked, "Do you think this is it? Is this our way out?"

"It's our only way, we're stuck forever otherwise". Marz broke his silence once more, confirming with all around him what everyone knew, the monks would never let them leave. Not alive.

During work everyone seemed to be nose to the grindstone, everyone was working hard, it was only when Marz heard a voice cut through the working did he stop. "Did you tell'em?"

"No"

Venna looked utterly confused, almost shocked at what she just heard, "Why?"

"Then I can't keep the promise I made to yer brother".

"Promise?"

"He wanted me to find yer father, if you get ratted out, not only are you in danger, yer father is, and yer brother".

Venna sat there, astonished, "Uh…okay".

Marz continued working, silence had fallen between the 2 for a moment before he said one last thing, "You can still help. That is your one choice 'ere. If not, then stay, and hope that they keep their word. You know the ones who are making us weapon, when telling us we are trying to help get magic back".

Venna was left with the choice, the option, hope the monks keep their word, or work with her people to become free. She looked down to her cart as Marz continued to work. Marz too his hammer and set it down, getting ready to punch out to leave. Venna grabbed onto his arm as said between tears, "Let me help".

Marz nodded as he said, "Tell everyone, be ready".

Marz left for the restroom, giving Choran a small nod before he left, as there stood 2 monks on either side of the bathroom. They both looked to Marz as their eyes nearly pierced through him. Once he entered, he reached into the toilet once more and retrieved the device. Seeing all it needed was one final piece, as small needle. Once he set the needle within the device, he waited, inspecting the device, as the moment he heard yelling he stood up and put the device under his belt line.

The moment that Marz left, both monks were yelling at Choran who had left too early to use the bathroom. Marz used the commotion to move, as Choran was being pushed back, Marz left to head back to the work floor, taking a bit of a detour to make it there by dodging those who were watching the bathroom. Marz took this time to do the one thing they needed to, he pressed a screw which shifted forward and he felt for a moment, his manas once more. He took a breath in, and then sighed, knowing it worked.

Now back on the floor everyone looked to Marz, wondering what was going on, as all he gave was a nod. Once they all began to work, hammering began to happen, as it became rhythmic, synchronized, and sometime in response. For those uninitiated, this seemed like smiths all following a similar pace, yet for those within this prison, it was a form of communication. It could take multiple minutes to get a response of a word, however it was a system made that could be replicated by those who were in the know. For Marz, he gave the signal to all, "It. Works."

A resounding slam of hammers happened the moment the news was spread, everyone understood, and everyone knew, be ready. Their freedom was at hand.

The Hegelans continued to work, now with Venna moving between the smiths, speaking amongst them, seeming to be passing off things to each, as eventually they noticed the multiple monks moving, seeming to almost be rushing somewhere. In the commotion, they even noticed a monk or 2 left the work floor. Something was happening, and everyone noticed , as once more the symphony of hammers began to fall. But it was Marz to go and break the noise, he slammed hard. As he continued to do so, telling everyone, "Shut". As he began to conversation saying, "Now", all the other Hegelans raised their hammers prepared to give a response.

In that moment, a loud boom occurred, blowing off the thick heavy doors to the work shop and sent smoke hurling through the tunnels. Roars and yells occurred from within, flames, lightning and light shot through out the workshop as one lone monk broke through the smoke, running out of the workshop and through the tunnels, with great force, yet he felt his feet sleep as the magic he was once using dissappeared and then a loud shot occurred taking his head from his shoulders. There, stood Marz, with one of the guns he partially finished in one hand, and in the other, a the anti-magic dampening device. From within the workshop, yelling began to occur calls of freedom rang out as Choran was the one to yell the loudest,





The Hegelans began to chant as they moved through the tunnels, Marz was the one who led the charge, next to him was Choran who continued to chant the words. Calling each Hegelan to call out in unison. When the Hegelan were going through the tunnels, Marz used the device sparingly, using it to give them magic to move and fight, and then turn it off after first contact to give the monks no time to respond to the full aggression. Almost like a tidal wave of crazed men and women wielding weapons they were once working on to now gain their freedom.



Their first destination was to head to the armory that the monks had. Many knew they had one, but it was Venna who knew the location. It was a large stone door locked and kept sealed, near impossible without multiple people and someone with keys, however that mattered little to one with magic. Marz drew from the door, taking in the stone, the metal, everything and destroying it utterly, allowing for the Hegelans to become armed with real weapons.

Blades, armor, clubs, guns, everything a small waring band needed. Yet what was most important, a small supply of Mana shots and 2 prime shots. Choran looked to them, thought for a moment then tossed Mars a few and said, "You'll need these".

Marz nodded as he began to arm himself, he put himself into some of the smaller armor they had, and it fit well, little snug in some areas yet it worked. He grabbed himself then a shield and a club. Placing both to his side before taking the mana drinks and downing them. His eyes bulged for a moment before he let out a sigh, he could feel his body acclimating and then empowered.

Choran then yelled out to all within the armory:



The now enraged and empowered Hegelans began their rampage through the tunnels of the monastery. They were heading to free their other brothers and sisters from the other workshop, but first they needed to fend off the many beasts the monks had let loose within the tunnels. These smaller dragons who have a similar shape to a dog were normally used to control riots and find any items people tried to hide. They could cover themselves in fire and had heightened smell and sight.



The hegelans began to hear the many skittering feet of these dragons they knew this was to come, as Marz turned on the device as the others began to form a shield wall. Choran called out once more:



In that moment, the dragon dogs made contact as the moment they tried to use their magic to coat themselves in fire to charge through the shields, Marz turned off the device having the dogs slam into the shields before the Hegelans brought down their weapons. With brutal efficency, the hegelans wiped out the many Dragon dogs, clearing them more and more, until none were left.

The hegelans continued forward, wiping out the many monks that stood in their way, as the moment they neared the other workshop they began to see fire and smoke spew out from the doors. There they saw more Hegelans pour out roaring and yelling. They wielded their hammers like weapons as they rushed out and saw the other group. They were about to clash when Venna ran and called out, "Father!"

Venna ran forward as she tackled a taller Hegelan, thinner man now, but who still had quite a bit of muscle on him still. He took hold of Venna as he said, "Oh my darling, are you okay?" Venna nodded as they began to talk and reconnect, it was Marz who broke the conversation, "Argor Halghivan?"

The man who was holding Venna looked to Marz and said, "Aye".

"Good to meet you, I came here to get you to yer son".

The men shook each others hand as Argor looked to Marz with curiosity, "What is your name?"

"Marz. Marz Mohfolk".

"Mohfolk?", the man nodded his head as he realized something, "Mohfolk, hmm, then maybe".

Marz looked to the man as he said, "What do you mean?"

"There is a weapon here being made", the man began to head off back into the workshop, with most of the hegelans following in confusion. There they walked to the center of the workshop where there was a large metal plate, when moved there were 5 weapons within, "These are 5 of the only weapons we have been able to produce during this time".

Within was a large dark black tower shield that seems to be too large to be held by any normal man, a large rifle like weapon that seemed to be too unwieldy for any to trully use, a thin and sleek single edged blade that seemed to be cutting into the ground, a bow that seemed to be humming with energy, and in the center a hammer with a flaming head and handle that seems to hum with energy.

Marz marveled at each item, all of them seems to be so well crafted and formed

Argor then continued, "Each are quite strong, but this one is unique-", Argor pointed to the one in the center, "the Vossoriyans who took over this place had us making them weapons. With this one being specially made fer their protector. We had been forced to make this one fer countless months and finally we were able to finish it. None of us could wield it, but I think you could".

Marz looked to the items then to Argor, he then asked, "Yer sure?"

Argor nodded, as when Marz looked around he noticed many of the others seemed curious, wondering if he would take it. Marz then looked back to the weapons as he prepped himself. He took a deep breath in then out as he took hold of the handle, as he began to feel the immense weight of the weapon, such is the weight of a Chaos Marble. Yet it was in that moment Marz was finally able to lift it even slightly an unbelievable amount of power flowed from the weapon. As the head of the hammer began to super heat and become hotter as it began to heat up to unfathomable levels. Most of the hegelans were instantly forced back as Marz began to feel the energy become even greater. The head of the hammer became so hot it began to melt the stone around it and Marz as even the other weapons began to melt, slowly and surely they melted away as the hammer seemed to draw in the material, slowly forming was seemed to be a more solid hammer head, as more energy began to flow out. It took Marz time to finally fully draw in the energy the hammer was producing to become manageable for him, as he felt his energy stores filled to their maximum and then some.

Within Marz' hands, he wielded a 2 handed Warhammer with pitch black metal and incandescent white and red burning forming from the head of the hammer.



Once Marz was finally able to take control the weapon, he began to head beck to the others who were beginning to become sick near him from the sheer amount of energy flowing through him. Argor was the first to respond, "Seems like I was right. How does it feel?"

"Strange, yet good".

"Ya, this weapon was made to do a bunch of things, but most importantly, it feels like you have the heart of a volcano in yer hand".

Marz nod his head as he tosses the hammer in his hand and shifts it, "Yeah, I can feel that".

Choran patted Marz on the back as he called to everyone, "Step 6!"

But it was Marz to call out, "Wield a Fist of Iron!" As he held up the warhammer, all the hegelans roared out in excitement.

And so the group of hegelans continued their attack, it was Marz to lead the charge as he wielded the hammer that would not yield to no shield or wall.



The Hegelans continued their carnage, until finally they had neared the surface. They could feel the air become cooler, and air became fresher, and then finally, they could see the sun. For some, the first time in a few months, for Marz even for a few days, it felt like a lifetime.

Location: Bunker→ Collapse (Blacksmith)→ St. Artyom

As the group walked down the stairs and toward the Bunker's exit, Roslyn fell in step with Emsii at the back. Being slightly tipsy and hungry, the brown haired girl began to dig into her things. She managed to bring up some of the creamery treats. They looked less than delightful, causing the girl to frown. Still she offered them up to anyone that wanted some.

After passing them over, she started on the stormin' strawberry herself. While juggling the reminder, her eyes brushed over the strange gift strapped to her side. A long iron tube fused into a stick end about the length of a small cane. Oksana called it a smoking bandit. According to the deaf girl, it could fill an entire battlefield with a burning substance. Trying to imagine it caused Roslyn's chest to tighten. She prayed that Ahn-Dami provided them with a choice to avoid any combat.

Her eyes flickered to her fellow students. Her companions seemed to have less hope of that possibility. She finished the last of the slightly pink cream then moved onto the heavenly chocolate. She wasn't nearly as fond of this one compared to the strawberry.

"I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision staying to help..." She mumbled to herself, her inner doubts surfacing.

No point questioning her choices now, she realized. Her ears caught Sven, Penny, and Yuliya locked in a conversation over the church. Not liking the conflict in the group, she pushed past her timidness.

“Well, we know about that Blacksmith,” Rosyln recommended, finding her voice among the large group of semi-familiar people. “We could try that?”

The suggestion seemed well received. They rushed toward the collapsed part of town, but soon became side tracked. People, fed by dwindling hope, continued to search the wreckage. The group, either for personal want or empathy, stopped to help.

Roslyn split off with Esmii, Sven, and Oksana as the others went their own way. Each group started on the surface and worked their way downward. A few times, they had to pause to tend to their wounds. Esmii and Sven seemed the least graceful as they twisted or broke their limbs. If not for the hazy magic, Roslyn wasn't sure how they were going to mend the pair.

By the end of it, the small cautious group had found two of the townsfolk. Seeing the survivors return to their grateful families left her feeling better than before. Meanwhile, it turned out Penny, Yvain, and Yuliya had found Fat Yuri's daughter and also sent her back home. That left their final destination: the blacksmith shop.

They stepped up the Blacksmith's workshop and home, seeking out new leads. Yuliya, with her expertise of the language, began to translate. Roslyn found herself grateful to get past the language barrier. Her thoughts lingered back to the Hegelans they met in the tunnels. Naturally, her eyes began to wander across the shop to ignore her uselessness.

Her eyes caught sight of the small hegelan boy peeking out. Soundless, he ducked back out of sight and drew a soft chuckle from her. It made focusing on the conversation harder than it should've been. Once the conversation ended, a small bag of coins settled in the blacksmith's hands and she turned to them. It confirmed Penny’s suspicions were right. It seemed any answers they sought waited for them in the place they tried to avoid.

Roslyn let the others take the lead. They had been here the longest and suffered through this game of chase for answers longer than her. Instinctively, her eyes scanned the front of St. Artyom's.

Please, let this lead to answers.

Tension built up in her chest as she watched Yuliya step up and knock. The sound echoed in her ears, vibrating in her being. The exchange began when a red cap monk answered. Roslyn's eyes narrowed at the mention of the rescue attempt causing her lips to purse. Something about what he said felt off, but she didn't know why. Following the others inside, she managed not to jump when the doors closed behind them.

Idly, Roslyn continued to watch the exchange. Irritation evaporated the tension in Roslyn, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Quietly she stood alongside the others.

It didn't take long for things to spiral into trouble.

Of course mention of Esmii being called a knife-ear set her boyfriend off. Sven, gentlemen he was, stepped forward and sent a shockwave at the abbot. That didn't seem to matter because once the dust cleared...

The priest seemed unfazed.

‘Oh shit… what did I get myself into?!?’

Roslyn stared at the man who shrugged off the attack. Suddenly, her hand felt something pressed into her palm. Her eyes glanced down to spot a mana shot. Sensing someone looking at her, her eyes spotted Esmii's cheeky smile. It clicked in the brewery daughter's mind. Understanding flashed across her expression as she undid the cork and downed it. The glass fell from her gasp and shattered across the stone grounds.

A burning sensation swirled in her gut, her body uncertain about the odd liquor. In moments it settled. The boost flowed through her veins with fresh vigor. She prayed to the gods for strength. From her peripheral vision, she noted she wasn't the only one that downed one. Yuliya did too.

The abbot began casted first. His eyes narrowed on Penny and pointed his wand near her. A stupendous amount of energy swirled and collected at its tip, glowing white with the spell.

"Heavenly Lance!" He uttered, releasing it at her chest.

Seeing the threat rush at her friend, Roslyn didn't think. Her mana drew in the heat caused by the false abbot's spell and uttered a phrase beneath her breath. She jerked up her palm and released it into the lance. When her spell hit it, the energy spiraled across the shape. Spotting her effort's success at weakening it, Penny latched onto the colossal energy. The woman drew it away and ended its threat.

Roslyn flashed Penny a timid smile. The pride was short-lived. She spotted monks rushing to the aid of the abbot. Her eyes widened at the number as the courtyard erupted into chaos. Monks launched their spells at various students, including herself, forcing them to defend themselves.

Two monks in blue caps targeted her. They lifted the small chunks of stone then hurled them at her. Hoping to hurt their aim and get out of range, she drew in energy from the surroundings.

Gritting her teeth, Roslyn uttered.

"Light of Ahn-Shune."

A light flared in the monks' eyes while she rushed to the side, boosted by her kinetic magic. She wasn't fast enough. Both rock edges clipped her, one in the shoulder and the other in her back. Pain flooded her nerves.

"Shit."

A loud snap of wood made Roslyn's head swing to her left. Penny's crutch broke from a kinetic spell sending her toppling backwards. Meanwhile, Yuliya dissipated another spell from a red capped monk. The petite woman then countered with a shockwave forcing her attacker to retreat. She spotted Sven sloppily bat away several boulders, catching one on his shoulder. Blood wet his tunic as he grunted.

"We don't have to do thish violently."

"I agree with that. I don't want to hurt anyone." Roslyn join in, but both of their words fell on deaf ears.

Suddenly a black-capped monk appeared in front of the Eskandishman then vanished repeatedly. It all happened so fast that Roslyn barely caught it. Seven explosions popped off in Sven’s vicinity. Impulsively, Roslyn raised her arm to brace against it. She was in no immediate danger, but she couldn't help the reflex. Her eyes tightened against the dread filling her. She couldn't help him.

"Afraid to show your face?" came Sven's voice.

Her eyelids cracked open to see a familiar form walk out of the dust. His hand wiped off the blood from his shoulder.

Roslyn sighed in relief.

"Hey, watch this."

Penny's confidence caught Roslyn's attention. She hadn’t expected her friend to recover so fast from the fall. The one legged student balanced herself upright on one crutch.

"Shune, bless me with knowledge and perseverance," she prayed.

"Reshta, bless me with good fortune."

She turned to the nearest monk and shouted. "RUPTURE!"

Roslyn watched the man freeze in place. His face reddened and his eyes bulged. Hands reached up to grasp his head, the back arched, and a shriek roared from his mouth. Blood dripped from his nose and ears. Dark marks and red rashes spread across his body. The monk's final breath rattled from his throat before he crumbled into a heap.

No one could survive that, Roslyn thought. The image seared itself into her memory. She looked away, unable to stomach the sight.

During her distraction, another monk got close and reached out to touch her. Assuming he wanted to do a contact spell, Roslyn jerked her hand to her mouth. Her fingers made a ring. When she learned this spell, images of her being a dragon breathing fire rose to her imagination.

"Wyvern's Breath."

Fire erupted at the monk. Surprised by her shift from defense to offense, the attack grazed his head. He leapt backwards to avoid the worst of it. Once landed, he batted the minor flames away and smothered them with his hands. Witnessing her spell, one of his companions struck out.

No you don't! Roslyn thought as she screamed in the monk's direction.

"Drunken Hell!"

Anger at the situation, her helplessness, and more leapt into her core. It corrupted her imagery and twisted her intentions. She wanted him to leave her alone. The monk's skin drained of color, twisting into an ashy gray. His eyes glazed over as his feet stumbled. His breath became irregular and poorer with each second. His lips turned blue as white foam, saliva, gathered at his mouth corners. With a violent shudder, he collapsed.

Dead.

Roslyn stood there, rattled by the aftermath. She didn't see her fellow classmates dealing with the threat around her.

"I-I-I didn't mean..." She stepped back, but she had nowhere to run.

Seeing his ally killed, another mage uttered a spell. A boulder rocketed at her right side.

The sight snapped her back into the present. Roslyn spoke the first spell on her mind, "Arcane Lance."

During the hours of Oraff, she drew in more daylight. Her mana formed it into a bright, white cone shape then she flickered her hand forward at the stone. It struck the center, but didn't seem to stop it.

I didn’t mean to kill him... Roslyn's guilt surfaced as she found herself unable to move fast enough.

With almost inhuman speed, one of Khaliun's hired mercenaries rushed to help. He slashed his sword upward, cracking it on the rock's scorched spot. A low rumble broke into a thick fissure. The tails continued to spider web across the surface before crashing into the ground.

She had little time to breathe when a monk to her left launched another spell. Her insides curled and pain flooded her head. Roslyn's knee slammed into the ground. Her hands clutched her head as her vision blurred.

Roslyn used her chemical magic to counter with a spell.

"Blessing of Joy."

Endrophines overwhelmed the pain, drawing from the hurt and dampening it. Her hand pushed on her knee and forced herself upright. In the background, Sven and Oksana fend off a black-capped monk with a combined attack.

Roslyn started to notice the hints of heaviness in her limbs. She recalled the same ache when she danced for hours on end, but this was completely different. Her eyes closed and squeezed tightly for a moment. Letting the pause center her racing mind, she returned to the fight.

"Blessing of Vigor," she snapped her spell at Yuliya, buffing the woman.

Among the exchange of blows, Roslyn caught Sven’s pleas.

"Pleashe shurrender!" He begged, doing more than she could. "Ish thish really worth dying for!?"

She wondered the same thing, but her main focus was keeping her friends safe. It seemed the more they killed, the numbers stayed the same. The battle turned when the Abbot reached his limit.

"None of you understand! You fools! You saboteurs! We are trying to save our nation here!" His voice manic and eyes wild, he began to draw in energy.

A quiet hum turned into a roar. The vibrations shimmered and heated the air, condensing into a spot. Roslyn' wasn't the top of her class when it came to sensing magic, but even she could tell this was a powerful spell.

"If we die, you die with us!" He spat.

Then, from within one of the mountainside temples, another dull bomb echoed. Muffled voices and shouts followed it. In a last ditch effort, Roslyn tried to cast another Light of Ahn-Shune, but... nothing happened.

The magic was gone. Not that her efforts would've made much of a difference.

She spotted the Abbot's realization entering his gaze. On cue, the ignited spell amped up like a runaway snowball after breaking free of the man's control. Roslyn watched it gather more and more energy, the temperature gradually rising. The magic flipped on abruptly and someone compelled it away. The explosion's effects rumbled into the wilderness outside of the town.

Silence smothered Roslyn as she continued to witness the distant destruction. The pressure pressed against her form before a roar shattered it. A large puffy mushroom of smoke blooms on the horizon. With its presence, heat and light barreled toward them.

Roslyn's eyes squinted against the blinding light as they did their best to resist it. Combining her chemical and kinetic, she focused on aiding Penny with the wave coming at them. She focused on weakening the explosive reactions while draining the momentum. Soon the two girls managed to lessen the damage charging at them.

When the remaining force connected with Roslyn, her feet left the ground. It ripped her scream from her mouth as she was tossed into the air and crashed back into the courtyard. Debris of all kind whipped past her, slicing her arms and clothes. The powerful winds continued to skid her along until she hit a wall. Lungs expelled her breath upon impact. During it, she faintly recalled rolling onto her stomach. Arms reached up to shield her face and head from the slashing debris.

She hunkered down, praying, until everything died down.

Cautiously, she stirred. Her arms lowered causing a few stones to fall from her head. The dust started to settle as she scanned the remains of the monastery. A thick air settled into her chest, slicing into her lungs like glass. Ignoring her wheezing, Roslyn pushed herself onto her feet.

A dryness settled in her throat as she coughed, forced out words between them.

"Is everyone all right? Ahhh..." She coughed more, the movement rattling her chest. Her hand balled as it briefly covered her mouth.

"Oh, shit. I should’ve stayed at the Academy."

When Roslyn spotted movement, she jerked to face the source. Pain rippled across her worn neck muscles as she bite down a yell. Her hand jerked up and gently rubbed the soreness.

"Owww. That was stupid." The tension lessened when she noted the hegelans.

Slowly, she pressed her back against the scorched wall and slid down. She was grateful to be alive, but every part of her hurt beyond words.

---

---

“Unofficially, I was hoping you’d make a mistake like that. Say your prayers, children.” A final line from the Abbot as other holy men arrive to join in the scuffle. A smirk appeared on Yvain’s face, putting on the mask that finished his attire. He began to draw, awaiting for any of the monks to attack him… yet he would be met with disappointment. It seemed as though nobody dared to lay a finger on him. Annoyed by said revelation he sought out a challenge so he could enjoy himself.

He drew his sword as he looked around for his potential target, not caring about the simple fights that happened around him. Then, his dream opponent was in his sight. A monk that did not share a cap similar to the others, he must be special.. He must be strong. Then melancholy hit upon the realization that they were in fact already fighting against Yuliya. "You would pray? YOU?? Die." He saw her launching a fully empowered fist directly at the black cap’s head. Yvain saw it, an opening. He rushed towards the two, blade gripped tightly. Then one with a blue cap tried to stand in his way of glory only to be swung away with a shoulder charge from the brutish noble. ”Out of the way, peasant!” He laughed, kinetically charging forward.

Then as Yuliya hit him with a kinetically empowered punch, Yvain at the black cap’s back pointed his sword and skewered the man upon it. A satisfied smile was hidden behind his mask as he heard the monk’s dying gasp. His sight turned towards Yuliya ”Looked like you needed a hand, apologies for stealing your prey.

As soon as they finished off the black cap a nuclear explosion was about to hit them he felt his magic disappear for a split moment, causing the abbot to lose control of the massive reaction he prepared. Then, as if they were blessed by the Pentad personally, magic returned to them. Yvain, perfect as he was, easily defended himself against the explosion. Looking around to check if Penny or Yuliya were hurt by the explosion, relieved that there was no harm to them ”Mais tout est bien qui finit bien.” Yvain let out a sigh and sheathed his blade.

---

Ashon and Taleja looked at each other, clearly having opposite views on the debate. Now, they were being greeted by a Royal Sand Wyrm by the name of Conde Juan Antonio Mendoza-Cardenas, who was dressed in fancy clothes and a wig. Taleja placed a hand on her face and muttered, “What's next, Skuggvars wearing monocles?”

She waved her hand as she sought clarification, “What is an Original and what makes Father Jacques so special?”

Ashon gazed at the creature and scratched his head, saying, “An offer of sanctuary by a Royal Sand Wyrm, it’s an intriguing proposition.” He considered whether he might be asleep or not, pinching Cal to make sure. “Tantas Empire? Huh, the Tarlonese are certainly adopting Yanii titles now.”

He looked at the others and continued, “It's true, the Quentic church would be the least of their worries there. You just need to be careful of the wildlife, the trees, and the Tarlonese Yasoi themselves.” Spinning on the spot to face the Conde, he asked, “Those smugglers have been to Tarlon recently. What guarantees of protection can you offer these villagers, and what's your involvement in this operation?”

Taleja raised an eyebrow as Ashon appeared critical of the proposal, “The merit of a remote location away from human settlements could offer solace and safety to those afflicted. Given their strength, they should be able to defend themselves.” She offered a hand to the Royal Sand Wyrm, “He is offering protection as well.”

She reminded the group, “Ultimately, if we are going with sparing these villagers, we are morally responsible for their actions. If they go to Tarlon, they are no longer our problem. We are absolved from the matter, and it becomes his problem.”

Ashon frowned at the response. “While the idea of this refuge is appealing, is it really in the best interest of everyone involved?” He grabbed one of the Mandelein purple bananas and pointed it at Taleja. “What does our Conde want in return? Are we simply putting them in another situation by replacing the smugglers with the Conde and his Emperor? What if Tarlon gets grand ideas and begins attacking the human colonies around Tarlon? Have we just conscripted these good folks into their army and the resulting deaths?”

Taleja paused as she bit her lip. The man who called himself a Monkey King did raise a point, but it was not his choice to make. “Then why don’t you ask Father Jacques to consider the proposal and allow the people of Mandelein to make that decision for themselves? Perhaps he may want to trade one prison for another. A gilded cage is a preferred alternative to death.”

Ashon snorted at the comment about cages, “Spoken by someone who has no experience of such a thing.” He gestured to the others, “We should seek to understand the Conde’s intentions, the nature of this sanctuary, and the implications of this decision. We could be walking in blind.”

Taleja examined her pocket-watch, closed it, and placed it in her pocket. “As much as we would all love a holiday to Tarlon, there isn't time to delay this decision. If you truly want to prioritize the well-being of those involved, this solution can be both practical and sustainable on paper.”

Her green eyes gazed toward the Sand Wyrm. “Baudile, wake your brother and allow him to listen to the Conde’s answers. It is a decision he should be making. He should not be denied the opportunity when the alternative is certain death.”

Ashon perched himself on a branch, peeled the banana, and took a bite as he waited for the Conde’s responses to the questions and points they both made, though he sighed reluctantly at Taleja’s suggestion. “We have agreed to spare him. Let’s all listen to the Conde.”

---

---

Lament

---

---

After a fierce moment and having experienced death it was quiet, not eerily so with the commotion at the town itself still reverberating where she was but there was a sense of loneliness plaguing her mind. Said lonely feeling caused the built up emotions to release What did I do to deserve all of this? Tears fell down the girl’s cheek as she trailed the river, causing her vision to blur slightly. All I’ve been doing is good, being good..

As she made her way up the hill Dory decided to bruise herself further with the use of her kinetic magic, her nails scratched onto her skin like branches would. She looked over the castle and it seemed as though something had in fact gone down. After spotting the area on the top of the hill she found the students with two figures that were not familiar to her. Seems like everyone’s more or less okay…. A bitter part of her heart was dissatisfied by seeing them all alive.

Dory increased her heart rate and breathing as she stumbled towards the group. Her target, Taleja, was in discussion with the Yasoi male. Her sight was placed on her goal, all she had to do was play. ”Taleja, Taleja!... Her voice sounded strained. Venomhand or not she did not care and hugged her Kressian friend ”I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Her face contorted into ugly sorrow. ”Ismette… Ma-...” Dory had a rather difficult time getting the words out. ”Manny… It happened so fast… A loud cry escaped the Feskan’s mouth as tears made their way onto Taleja’s clothing.

---

---

“Myn Spratz-Eendje” Taleja welcomed Dory into her arms, stroking her gloved hand through the girl’s hair to soothe her, “It is goed, do bist no by my. Cry en sprek as klear.” She allowed the girl to cry against her shoulder, patting and stroking her back in a comforting manner. She seemed to have lost momentum with the conversation as Jamboi continued to talk with the Conde.

Ashon moved toward the dragon, who continued to respond in a jovial manner, eyeing him up suspiciously before breaking out into a smile. “Tarlon? Ta, Tyrel’yrash’dichora luush’elar.” He grinned widely in a mischievous manner, pointing to himself with his thumb, “Nax Jamboi’Ismax’Hyparii,” as he started pointing toward the others, beginning with the three Yasoi, “Casii'fyret'alan, Ymiico'luun'yoru, Cal'tuuro'jaros…” He paused for a moment, then turned to the yanii’s, “Taleja, Kaspar, Cristophe, Baudile, and Dorothea…” he paused again, “Dorothea, where Ismet'ych' lahiin'dichora, our resident Tarlonese?”

Dory looked like she was going to respond, but words failed her, and Taleja shook her head at him, “Ismet and Manfred are no longer present.” She felt Dory clutch tighter, surprised by how tactile she was being. Such a tight sensation was very alien.

Jamboi’s goofy expression dropped, frustration replacing it with a pained expression, as he moved over to take the key from the Conde. “Tell Tyrel and Miret that… their cousin has departed.” He looked away as he took the key with him, distracting himself with a different task as an excuse to walk away from the others.

“He thinks too much with his heart. We appreciate your expertise in this matter. You have stated you shall abide by the decision of the townsfolk.” Taleja lowered her head before the creature in a sign of respect, “We must now grieve the loss of our friends,” her hand resting on Dory’s head. “and lovers.”

---

---

Bringer of bad news

---

---

Dory's eyes peered out from Taleja's frame to look at the Conde. One eyebrow slightly raised out of confusion. Why's that thing giving me the thumbs up for? The uncomfortable feeling of being so close to a venomhand was overshadowed by the sheer amount of comfort she sought from her one remaining friend at this gods-forsaken place. The Kressian's touch calmed her mind, her voice however was still rather strained to give Ashon his answer. Luckily enough Taleja could translate her barely comprehensible speech.

Her eyes met Taleja's. Her voice coming back to her as her calm returned at least somewhat. "What happened here?... Did you get hurt?" Her expression turned to one of fear. "Did they appear here as well?" She shook from terror against Taleja before letting out a heavy release of air. "I'm sorry... I'm just glad you are okay.."

---

---

It was rainy in Harmoln. The sky was grey and Edyta Laska sat on a bench beneath a colonnade, watching men and women in clerical vestments bustle about the cathedral courtyard. In the near distance, a bell tolled, announcing the change from Oraff to Eshiran. The young rezaindian closed her eyes, leaned back, and rested her head on the cool stone, listening to the city's other churches take up the chorus. Mother Oraff, we thank you. Mother Eshiran, we welcome you. There was a stray thought at the end, though. How you and Father Eshiran feasted upon the people of Mandelein. She quickly disavowed it, but it had happened. The rezaindian kept her eyes shut as the bells faded, their minute of impact over. Instead, she listened to the quiet voices under the colonnades and the patter of feet and raindrops across courtyards and rooftops. She let the scent of the rain carry her away. She was tired - the sort of weariness that sets within your bones and becomes near-impossible to root out without a few nights of uninterrupted good sleep in a row.

Then, two sets of the many footsteps that had passed her by... did not. They stopped right in front of her and bright green-blue eyes opened.

"Sister Mercy."

"Your Eminence." She rose to her feet, curtsying before him. Bishop Ambrose of Harmoln - a fellow rezaindian as it so happened - stood before her, a brother of the white order over his shoulder with a board and parchment.

"Walk with me, child." He smiled tightly and motioned for her to follow. The monk followed silently and something uneasy took root in Edyta's stomach. His footsteps were too practiced. His eyes too watchful. She knew him for what he was.

The bishop clasped his hands at the small of his back, slowing up to wait for her, and she followed, beside but slightly behind, hands clasped demurely in front of her. "So, I have heard that things in Mandelein did not go quite as we had hoped."

"No, your eminence. Eshiran forgive me."

He glanced down at her sternly and she found herself reduced in his eyes. "You had best hope so." He shook his head. "Not only does the threat remain unchecked, one of our own people has turned to blasphemy and remains free to pour his filth into the ears of others. Hundreds are dead, and -"

The reached a door and the monk who had been trailing them had managed to slip to the side and ahead before Edyta had so much as noticed. He opened the door quietly and bowed his head. She remembered to incline hers in return.

"- I would ask you to follow me, sister." It was a trap and she knew it. To enter there was a trap. Might we speak out here, father, where the air is fresh? She thought it but she did not say it. Instead, she merely nodded in submission and followed. "As you wish, your eminence."

The Black Rezaindian seized her from behind and she had to tamp down on her reflex to avoid killing him. There was a Stresian Philosopher in the small, dark room, and he pricked her with a spade. The drops of blood collected were emptied into a glass tube and examined for a moment. Then, the stresian shook his head. "She's uncontaminated."

"I am sorry for the deception, sister, but we had to be certain."

At the age of seventeen, Edyta Laska was starting to understand that the people above her were not necessarily, automatically more competent than she was. She bowed her head once more. "Of course, your eminence. I'd have done the same." She waited for him to dismiss the other two and substantially address the matter at hand, but he did neither.

"Your... report mentioned a demonic item," the stresian interjected.

The lone woman's eyes darted about. They remained in this small room by torchlight. She nodded. "Yes, father. There was a girl named Dorothea Hohnstein von Albesatz-Danzau - a Feskan. She's a student at the school. There is this headpiece - like a tiara - that she wears and she never takes it off." She regarded them each in turn as she spoke. "I sensed a dark energy to it - usually muted, but occasionally a great deal." She shook her head. "An opportunity did not arise for me to take it."

"We thank you for bringing this to our attention, sister."

"It is my pleasure, father."

His smile of thanks was intended to have warmth.

"Then this must be your next task, my child." It was Bishop Ambrose. He did not smile. "The gods are perfect. Us humans, less so. I will correspond with your superiors in the City of the Bells. I am certain that Lady Eshiran will absolve you should you find success."

She had failed. Edyta swallowed. She had failed Eshiran in both aspects. Those who deserved death had not met with it. Many who did not had fallen. I am sorry. Lord Eshiran, forgive me. Lady Eshiran, forgive me! I shall not be weak. I shall act as a better instrument of your will. This, I promise. She swore it, then, before the gods and their representatives, making the sign of the Pentad. There remained one question, however. "Forgive my ignorance, your eminence," she began, "but... success in what?"

The bishop nodded towards the White Black rezaindian who was taking his notes before turning back to face her. "My child: yours is a very special task indeed." He reached out for her hands and took them. She did not resist. "You must, one way or another, separate Dorothea from that crown." He squeezed gently and she nodded, gazing up into his cool grey eyes by torchlight. "Her family is influential, so you are to avoid harming her if it is a simple matter." His grip tightened. "But if it is not, you may use all and any means at your disposal."

Sister Laska nodded. "As you command, your eminence."

"I do not command, young one." He smiled at her now, and she averted her eyes from his steadfast gaze for a moment, casting about the room. "It is the will of the Gods themselves, and you and I are but instruments."

"Always, your eminence."

He looked her up and down for a moment. "So very blessed by Ipte are you." He shook his head. "A pity it was not a young man you were to deal with." Finally, he released her hands, and she found them cramped and sweaty. "Nevermind. You will succeed just the same, because you must."

"I understand." She bowed her head.

"Excellent, my child." Once more, his eyes fell upon her and hers rose to meet them. He managed a quick smile, with his lips. "Now, I imagine you've had quite the journey here."

"Your eminence, if I may?" There was an interruption. It was the Stresian.

"Certainly, Father Behringer." The priest bowed his head in thanks and turned matter-of-factly towards the nun. "Sister, we have reason to believe that the vault of the late Graf Kapperstel may contain an item of great importance to the church and to your order in particular." The three men exchanged glances. Then, the stresian continued. "This may or may not be the case, but rumours persist of a sword of unusual qualities possessed by the family."

Edyta pentacted herself. Lord Eshiran! It was the sacred sword, artifact of Eshiran-Zept himself, placed among men so that they might know the gods! Her heart leapt before the anxiety could take over. Thank you, Eshiran, thank you Dami and Shune! If they had truly chosen her for such a task, they had blessed her - but a humble servant - greatly.

"Some believe it is the sword of our Lord Eschiran himself," the bishop confirmed. "Though I doubt there is any truth to the rumour, we request that you look into it and provide your superiors in Ersand'Enise with some certainty."

"And if it should turn out to be the genuine article?"

"Well, my sister in the Pentad, I imagine it is not such a stretch of the imagination to understand just how dangerous such a thing might prove in the wrong hands."

"In those of a demon," Bishop Ambrose clarified, and Edyta found herself irked for a moment. She wasn't sure why.

"I shall always act in the church's interest, my lords." They were all noble. She could sense it in the way that they talked - in how they carried themselves. "As we would we all, sister."

"But... pray tell," she began, "How will I recognize such a sacred article?" She shook her head. "Imperfect as they are at interpreting Lady Ipte's will, the many artists who have depicted it have done so in a variety of ways."

Bishop Ambrose scowled, perhaps in thought, but Father Behringer smiled. "This is, of course, an issue." He regarded her thoughtfully and she felt her cheeks warm under the attention. She had rarely been studious - capable at best in academic matters as opposed to brilliant according to her instructors. "But they were not misled, I tell you." He smiled at his own cleverness. "For this form takes many forms, from a great many peoples around the world."

"So it is simple," concluded the bishop, eager to have the final word. "If she often seems to wield a different sword - and few women are so inclined to such a weapon anyhow - and wields it with great power, then you will have reasonable grounds to act, and you are heartily encouraged to do so."

Edyta bowed low to the ground. "I thank you and the gods alike for your wisdom and your trust." She rose. "I will not let you down."

---

---

---

Metropolis - The Penultimate Battle

---

”A shame that it has come to this.“ Yalen rolled his sleeves tightly around his forearms, his eyes dead set on the apparition of Camille. He held his hand toward a fallen Rettanese warrior and magnetically pulled the guard’s longsword into his grasp. Assuming one of the basic forms taught to him by Colette, Yalen prepared to defend himself against the saint’s massive blade. "It feels wrong to fight someone my ancestor once called a comrade, but our respective beliefs have put us at odds. It is now up to Eshiran to decide who the righteous one is. Stand your ground."

"I did not want to face a child..." Camille sighed, turning from Smoking Bandit to face Yalen. "...but I was no different when I was your age. You follow the Quentic Faith, yet you side with the clear oppressors of the commonfolk. Surely you saw how they suffered in this city? How could you, willingly, support that?" Camille's shoulders dropped and she gave a sorrowful frown. "Eshiran spare you, child, but I cannot fall here. The people need me." Her shoulders picked up and she assumed a battle stance.

Yalen wasted no more words. He pinched his fingers together and struck at Camille with an invisible assault, attempting to steal her eyesight by blocking certain chemical signals. When she stumbled back in confusion, he charged forward and struck at her with an overhead slash. It was a dirty trick, but when Yalen’s blade was caught in Camille’s hand, he knew that fighting fairly against a monster would be foolish.

”That was a good effort, but I do not need my eyes to follow your clumsy movements.“ Camille stated with her eyes tightly shut. She shoved Yalen backwards and answered his strike with one of her own. When their swords clashed together, his arms and shoulders screamed with pain. It was like trying to block a dragon’s tail. He couldn’t hold it for more than a couple of seconds before he was forced to parry Camille’s greatsword to the side and retreat.

The heroic shade refused to let him off easily. Camille rocketed forward and slammed down hard. Yalen was just barely able to roll away from the earth shattering blow. She was strong enough to break rocks with one swing, so getting hit even once would be the death of him. He desperately sought an opening that could be used to turn the tide with magic, but the knightess was disturbingly fast despite wielding a weapon taller than she was. Every time he managed to redirect one of her painfully heavy attacks, Camille was already chasing him with another. For several minutes the Quentics engaged in a duel of swords, though it was a duel in name only. Yalen was so pressed to survive Camille’s onslaught that he had no room to attempt a counter attack.

”Hold still!“ Camille shouted. She opened her armored hand towards Yalen, surrounding him with a golden aura. His robes crackled with electricity as he was forced to his knees by powerful magnetic magic. Sweat dripped from the priest’s forehead as he struggled to resist the attraction spell, but even with command magic boosting his RAS, she had him outmatched in sheer mastery. His strength slowly failed him to the point where he couldn’t even hold his sword. After half a minute of resistance, Yalen was dragged face first onto the ground.

Camille tightened her grip as if she meant to destroy him, but after a few moments the magnetic force weakened a little so as not to crush him. "Stay down!" She ordered, hoping that Yalen would comply. It would be unbearable to send a child so quickly to Eshiran's embrace.

"Not... a... chance!" The moment Camille mercifully loosened her grip on him, Yalen closed his eyes and concentrated on the area beneath the saint's feet. Using his newfound strength he disintegrated the ground she stood on with a Touch of Doom, while at the same time attempting to reform the crude matter into a binding prison.

Camille was staggered by the sudden loss of footing, and as the pit grew larger she realized that Yalen was attempting to bury her alive, much like a silver haired witch from many centuries ago. With a kinetic leap she cleared the edge of the hole and beelined towards her adversary, prepared to knock him out and stop any further casting from occurring. When she was only a few feet away from her target, an earthen spire burst out of the ground and punched her in the chest plate, knocking the wind out of her and sending Camille hurtling back into the pit. Yalen filled her grave with compacted soil and stone, packing it as tightly as he could as a means of crushing her body. Maybe she didn’t want to kill, but he was ready to from the beginning. After all, he was only fighting a ghost.

Yalen could sense her life signs fading away and breathed a sigh of relief. It would have been bad if the fight continued for much longer. He was not suited for long battles, especially sword fights. He picked himself up off the ground and began walking away, ready to assist his comrades with their own battles, but he did not get far before he felt Camille swell with energy. Just as he turned around, an explosion erupted from underneath the earth, freeing the knightess from her prison. She emerged then, bathed in a yellow glow so intense that Yalen had to squint his eyes to look at her. Somehow, Camille had been returned to full health.

"Intended to kill. You truly are lost to whatever this world made you." She picked up her sword and swung, cutting at the air itself. Yalen was barely able to put up a stone barrier to protect himself before the shockwave hit, obliterating the crude wall and showering him with debris. Camille lunged forward, following her assault with a wide chop at Yalen’s right shoulder. Blinded and stunned by the previous attack, he had no time to avoid the lethal blow. Out of reflex, he put his arms up in a guard to protect his side, but he knew that if he really wanted to survive this he would need to use magic. Having lost his weapon in the scuffle, his only recourse now was to destroy hers. Yalen tugged at the bonds holding the greatsword’s molecules together, breaking them apart the instant before Camille cleaved him in two.

Camille's blade came swinging down, but as it closed into Yalen's shoulder, the blade was ripped apart. Metal seemed to burn away into cinders until there was nothing left. Camille leapt back, leaving the smoldering remains of her sword behind. "Such power… it truly makes me wonder what course the world has been set on, for the gods to grant children such gifts." She frowned, sulking a touch about her lost sword.

"Let me show you another gift of mine. It is time you returned to the heavens where you belong." Yalen filled his lungs with air and exhaled, calming his boiling blood in preparation for his final gambit. He raised his right hand and extended his index finger, pointing directly between Saint Camille's eyes. "SUBMIT."

Camille’s body seized up when her manas were forcibly taken away from her. There was confusion in her eyes as she attempted to retaliate, but no matter how hard she concentrated she found that the gift of magic no longer belonged to her. She was completely disarmed, and if it were any other opponent the fight might have been decided right there. However, Camille was still a hero of Oriflamme, and the sword maiden’s courage pushed her to keep fighting. With only her armored fists to protect her she charged forward, ready to beat Yalen to a bloody pulp. Though they were enemies, he felt a deep respect for her. If he were in her shoes he would have run away.

"I’m sorry but… if you wish to judge us for our actions, you should do so in Dami’s Chamber. Our mortal affairs are no longer any of your concern." Yalen's voice was tense with emotion. Causing harm to a legendary saint was a stomach churning experience, but he knew that this was for the best. Her pain would not last long. "RUPTURE." Yalen commanded, using his knowledge of the human body to detonate Camille's manas inside her brain stem.

There wasn't a moment for her to understand that word before pain snapped in her head. Pinches turned into migraines as blood explosively leaked out of her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth... It was only a few moments, but it was enough for Camille to realize she was dying... no she was dead. The damage quickly turned her brain into a slurry, and with no brain to control it, the summoned being that called itself Camille dropped to the ground, her lifeless bloody face still looking out in agony. The struggle was over.

Maura and Kaureerah - who definitely aren't fighters, find themselves up against Lady Matsuhara, who seems to have been revived by forces unknown. How can this be? Do they stand a chance? The unusually large chicken on Maura's lap lets out a cluck.

Kaureerah's eyes were wide and bugged out. "Yoo..." She trailed off, taking an unsteady step back. "Yoo were dead." It was her and Maura here at the dinner table, with Lady Matsuhara. As everyone else had rushed off to go pound each other in senseless violence, the Nikanese tyrant had stood, grabbed her own head, and twisted it back around until it sat normally on her shoulders. She glared at the two lesser mages coldly. "Wouldn't be the first time." Then, she shrugged, demeanour shifting

Kaureerah shot a glance at Maura, and then another about for any help. The two of them were alone against this monster, and she was no fighter. She knew it. She was no fighter.

Maura tilted her head to the side as she positioned herself slightly in front of Kaureerah, protectively. “This is the second we know about, but even an Arslan has nine lives.” She sat there casually, petting the chicken on her lap, her fingers stroking along its feathers as if it were a cat.

“Listen,” she directed her gaze toward Lady Matsuhara, “You've been brought into a trap, and the combined strength in this room doesn’t even match what the twins are keeping behind the scenes.” She sighed and looked to the side, “You've already died twice in the last 24 hours. We don’t even know how many times you can do that, but you should seriously consider trying to get out of here and get back to Nikan. A meaningless death here wouldn’t further your aims and that of your nation.”

She refocused her gaze, “Kaureerah and me are not here to fight, and we're not going to stop you if you run. Even if you choose to fight us, we are simply a distraction, a delay while those over there finish up their fights and come for you next. You achieve nothing as a result.” She reached out with her hand as if to offer a handshake from a distance, “We are not the strongest, but we are the smartest. So take my advice and flee while you can.”

"You know, you're not wrong," the black-cloaked woman admitted. "Though there's a great deal of information that you lack, of course." She shrugged. "The truth? I'm not in this to overthrow a government. If it happens, so much the better. My nation is safe from their relentless predation for the time being. If it doesn't then I'm in this for myself, and I'm gonna get mine." She made a move towards Kaureerah, but the eeaiko was quicker. She whipped out her lute and slid her fingers down the strings, creating a most unpleasant sound. "Fauck auf, beetch."

The horrible wail hit Lady Matsuhara and forced her to cover hear ears, but a counterfrequency came out to neutralize it. "And that's why I want you, girl." She shook her head. "You have no idea the power you're tapping into, but I do." She turned to Maura with an offer. "What will it take for you to give up your tool here and help me secure her? I can give you much, and I happily will."

Maura felt her eyes widen at the request, surprised, and shook her head in disappointment as she moved her hand to reassuringly place it on her friend. “Kaureerah is not up for trade; she is priceless.”

She smiled for a moment, “Besides, her friendship is freely given only to those worthy, and you have been found wanting.”

She moved her hands together as she began to cast binding magic, the air growing thick with mist that billowed out. The precipitation left thick water droplets on everything it touched. The ground became wet, and the droplets began to fall like rain within the mist.

"So be it," Lady Matsuhara grated. "And here I thought you were open to offers. I could, with a snap of my fingers, have the holds of your entire fleet of ships filled with ten-kanmi." She shook her head.

A lance of ice shot out at Kaureerah, looking to skewer her through the midsection. The ice melts in midair and resolidifies into a dozen razor sharp shards. They come barrelling back at the Nikanese.

Lady Matsuhara melts them and disperses them into the damp air.
Kaureerah tries again with a chemical attack, looking to create an illusion.
Chicken releases its first Primoridal Cluck. It grows. It is now rather heavy on Maura's lap.

Lady Matsuhara rubs at her temple and dispels the sophomoric effort.
She sees absolutely no threat in Maura and continues to toy with the increasingly anxious Kaureerah.
She attempts an internal chemical spell on the Eeaiko.

Kaureerah is wise to the attempt at mind control, however, and she will not be this bitch's plaything. She uses her attacker's concentration against her and tries an internal chemical attack of her own, dropping Lady Matsuhara to her knees. Kaureerah's heart pounds and her breathing quickens, but the Nikanese rises after a moment. "Nice trick girl." She shakes her head. "But the gap between us is too great. Paragons know you have potential. If you come with me peaceably, I swear I won't hurt you."

Kaureerah tilts her head to one side. "Yoo knoow, yoo doon't reelly scere mee es mauch es yoo used too," she replies, a note of tentative confidence in her voice. "Eye doon't thenk Eye weell."

Maura shook her head, “We are not Merchants of Death like Ingrid over there,” she pointed over to the large Eskandr woman fighting a dragon. "She has connections through the Sovereign Pact which has petitioned the Shogun this morning."

“You have one final chance.” She moved her hand into her robe and pulled out a parchment, which she flashed toward Lady Matsuhara. While the writing was a blur, it looked very official with the seal of the shogun on it, like one of many present in the embassy. Then, she placed it on her lap after gently brushing the chicken off it with a few pets. “This is a writ for your execution, written by the Shogun himself. Your involvement here has been disavowed, and you are to return to Nikan at once, or be counted as an enemy of the state. There is a bounty for proof of death if you fail to comply. Ingrid is looking to cash in, after she skinned herself a dragon.”

Maura used her time to distract Lady Matsuhara, employing her magnetic magic to begin warping the iron around them. Spikes of iron emerged like caltrops, converging from every direction, as if Lady Matsuhara was being enclosed within an iron maiden. The caltrops dug into her flesh, inflicting debuffs.

She was preparing a sneering comment, so intent on her riposte, that Lady Matsuhara didn't see the spikes coming.
They dug into her and she let out a scream. "Why you vicious little bitch!" she screamed.

"You don't have to be so prickly."

Kaureerah, despite herself, let out a snort of mirth out from her nose. "Yoo tauk e laut," she said. "Aut oof yoor ess. Taim too breeng thes dreem too laif."

The Chicken issues its second Primordial Cluck. An aura of misfortune begins to surround the Chicken, though it doesn't grow any larger.

Maura looked at Kaureerah with a questioning glance, then at Lady Matsuhara, watching as began to start shifting and bending. She blinked for a moment, then a devious smile spread across her face as she began to assist the process. She extended her hands as if manipulating a marionette, imaginary strings attached to Lady Matsuhara's joints. With a forceful clenching motion, she compelled her to bend backwards in an unnaturally sickly manner. Lady Matsuhara may have hailed from the land of the rising sun, but now she was entering a realm where even the sun's light could not penetrate. After a rectal cranial inversion, Lady Matsuhara had transformed into her final form.

She was doing it with intention now, using this type of magic that somehow worked outside of all of the rules that she had learned as girl and was now learning in greater earnest as a woman grown. She channelled the queer combination of both her mirth and her fury at this woman who had so mocked, assaulted, and belittled her and her newfound but very true friend. Your head belongs straight up your ass, She told herself, feeling the idea manifest. Reality warped to make it so: things that should not have made any sense - that should not have been able to happen - happened all the same.

That mocking face contorted in shock, pain, and fury. Lady Matsuhara bent around in a sickening shape as her head shoved itself up between her buttocks. Kaureerah's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. She wouldn't even wish such a thing on her worst... well, actually, she might. She wasn't above a little bit of vindictiveness.

“Did she always look like that?” She gazed up toward Kaureerah. the eeaiko grinned. "Feegooreteevely," she decided, "Yes. Nauw her eppeerence metches her weenneeng persaunelety."

From the Nikanese came only stumbling and muffled screams. She collapsed in a heap, writhing weakly.

Kaureerah reached a hand out for Maura to take it, smiling. Maura shuddered a moment, "Not even a mother can kiss that face now." She took Kaureerah's offered hand, and squeezed it three times. Kaureerah squeezed back four. She stuck her tongue out. "Eye lauve yoo moore."

Maura pondered, “She must have got help in our last fight. For someone so small, she definitely spoke big.”

She strode confidently forward, Maura beside her. "Yoo aur auwful," She stated matter-of-factly to her downed enemy. "Baut mai good frend ees raight." She shook her head. "Yoo er naut thet straung. Yoo hed help. Whoo ees et? Tell aus end wee maight spere yoor worthless laife." She leaned in and whispered in Maura's ear. "Eye heve never keeled saumoone befoore end Eye doon't entend too saurt nauw. Deed thet saund eenteemedeteeng?"

Chicken releases its third Primordial Cluck. It is a pleasant noise and not much of anything happens.

Maura pondered; she hadn't killed someone before, but she had heard people try to be intimidating. "She won't listen to that. Her head is too far up her own arse," she shook her head from side to side, "She'll probably respond with something dumb like 'You don't scare me, girl' or 'I'd rather die than tell you' – something that sounds really tough."

She leaned down toward Lady Matsuhara, "At this point, we think you'd rather die, wouldn't you?" She gazed down at her, then up at Kaureerah. "Remember, if she dies, she can return to normal, right?" Her gaze returned to the woman, "If she doesn't talk, we'll spare her. We can take her to the embassy and make a spectacle of it. By morning, all of Nikan will know her fate. She'll have to beg them to end her life. The humiliation would be absolutely unbearable, to the point where she might want to erase her own existence. Otherwise, wherever she goes, there will be whispers. People will talk – always talking. Random items might start turning up, like peaches. Maybe someone will ask if she's been smelling the roses lately. The taunts will be endless. No one will ever look at her the same way again. The paranoia would be constant. She would become a national disgrace for eternity; history books will depict Lady Matsuhara alongside a picture of her head up her own arse."

Lady Matsuhara squealed and then… A stony spike thrust up from beneath Maura. Kaureerah, alarmed, was ready to jump in and help her friend, but it proved utterly unnecessary.

Maura shook her head side-by-side, "She really is a tiny person. We keep trying to help her out, but she doesn't listen?"

"Well, aunce egain, Eye soogest wee meke her eppeerence feet her persoonaulety" She took a deep breath and focused, trying to manifest a tiny Lady Matsuhara into reality.

“In Torragon, we have a saying. You can lead cattle to water, but you cannot make them drink. There is no helping her now.”

Lady Matsuhara pounded the ground,a s if in surrender, as if saying 'uncle'. It was too late, however. Her body crumpled and twisted and shrunk. She continued shrinking, breaking all known laws of science and nature. Her face folded out from between her buttocks, but she was no threat any longer.

Chicken releases its fourth Primordial Cluck. It grows very slightly.

"Best frend?" Kaureerah prodded sweetly.

"Best Friends" she smiled warmly as she nodded. Her hand reached out to stroke the chicken's head gently.

"Eye theenk aur leetle aevean frend coold use saum food." She reached down to pick the tiny tyrant up.

"Wait, wait!" a tinny voice wailed. Kaureerah could feel her flailing. It didn't do much more than sting. "It was him! It was the Progenitor! He's my boss! I work for him. He helped me!"

Kaureerah glanced over at Maura. "Wait e secaund. Doon't yooo woork faur te emperoor auf Neeken?"

Maura distracted for a moment, coo'd and doted on the chicken. "Now, who's been a good chicken? Would you like to have the wiggly worm?" She encouraged her feathered friend in the direction of Kaureerah, who held Lady Matsuhara dangling in her grasp.

"I do. I'm sorry! I do. They're one in the same." Kaureerah grinned massively. Wickedly. She reached out towards Maura. They fist bumped.

This had massive implications, of course. For now, there was only a decision to make. To kill, or not to kill this person who'd terrorized them both? Who'd insulted, belittled, attacked, and tried to kill them.

Chicken released its fifth Primordial Cluck. It shrank and intensified. Growing cross.

Maura paused then began to smile, “Kaureerah, let’s be the bigger people here. She has told us what we wanted to know. Put her down, and let her go. Her fate is now in Dami’s hands.”

Kaureerah smirked. "Whaut e cepeetel eyedea," she replied, letting the tiny woman fall to the ground. "True, eempaurteal joosteece." Chicken darted forward eagerly, its feathers black, its eyes glowing with eager violence. In any event, the two young women did not see what happened next. It was, as Maura had said, up to Dami.

They turned and headed away.

---

---

As the others were distracted by the Aftermath of their encounter with a Titan Knower, Maura noticed that they appeared to overlook a very important figure, the Traveller. She moved to where the mysterious figure had fallen, considering her actions such as perhaps attempting to give them cover, shielding the enigmatic figure, or attempt to use her binding to heal them.

Instead, she found nothing.

"You were the only one," said a semi-familiar voice from behind her. She whirled on the spot to face it, and it was Jocasta's, only... she was some years older and standing. No, she was not Jocasta. She was the girl from the picture. "The only one who thought about me."

Maura was startled, and blinked in surprise as the woman approached her. She had never actually seen the Traveller before, but she recalled Ingrid’s description - someone who looked eerily similar to Jocasta, almost uncannily so. There was no rollerchair, to her disappointment, but she was aware from Abdel that the being was a shape-shifter, so she could adopt any appearance she liked. She did wonder if certain appearances held any special meanings, recalling how the Maestros tended to have particular favourite marionettes they loved the most.

“We thought you were injured. You put your life on the line to save us when you didn’t have to, and we wanted to thank you by helping if we could.”

She knitted her fingers together as she looked at the Traveller with awe, watching her every movement, no matter how subtle, with great interest.

The Traveler smiled faintly, and perhaps she even grimaced a bit. "I would happily take the bouquet you offer me were it true but, as I'm sure you noticed..." She scratched at the back of her head. "We all very much had to." She sat beside Maura on one of the few patches of grass remaining, pulling her knees up and looping her arms about them. "It would've destroyed this whole nation, and perhaps the whole world. Because of us, it didn't." She managed an appreciative smile and, while it appeared genuine, she also appeared distracted.

Maura paused as she considered the words and reflected on her own, realizing the misunderstanding. “We meant… you stepped in when you didn’t have to.” Her voice grew softer and quieter with every word, losing confidence as she might imply further miscommunication.

Here she was, feeling out of her depth compared to the person before her. In some ways, the Traveller had a presence that she both envied and admired, both in competitive spirit and as a role model.

Her fingers continued to knit as she started to feel herself grow anxious. This was a person she had so many words she wanted to share with. She scolded herself mentally, proverbially smacking herself on her cheeks as if to spur herself into motion and snap out of it. This was an opportunity to prove her worth.

“The Knowers are the true threat, aren’t they?” The comment was a statement rather than a question, reflecting on events with insight, “And if it required ‘all’ of us, then being so divided could have put us in great danger. More than this singular encounter.”

The Traveler nodded. She smiled supportively up at Maura. "They are a true threat, but also an opportunity, I feel: one to bring us together, because you are right. We must come together. After we win - because we must - I dream that the change might prove lasting, that it might be the start of a better world." She tilted her head as she regarded the girl, so very young, so bright, and... nervous. Did she make people nervous? Sometimes it was a blessing - there were enemies to be cowed. Sometimes, however, it was not. I'd bet that they don't listen to you very much. I'd bet that they should. She resolved to see what Maura Mercador had to say. There might be hidden treasure in her words. The Traveler so loved life's unexpected discoveries.

Maura blushed as she heard the words, considering them carefully before speaking. “It would be nice if that were the case. It is true that a common enemy unites us all behind a shared cause.” She turned to look toward her, “What happens when the enemy is no more? When two squabbling neighbors put aside their differences to prevent a giant tentacle from destroying both their houses, what happens when that threat is gone? Do those neighbors decide to continue, or do their old conflicts become more relevant again? We see this with the great powers – they encourage those within the nation to focus their attention on Perrence, on Revidia. It works as long as there is an enemy, and when there is no enemy, they find or make one.”

“This is not to say you're wrong, but to say you're right. There needs to be a purpose, there needs to be a shared vision. Something for people to unite behind. It is shown that the best leaders are those who unite people, leading from the front. Yet, we often see nobles ruling who don’t know how to lead.”

She found herself biting her tongue, already imagining the faces of the others from earlier – yet another Maura speech. Wu Long rolling his eyes and walked away in that enigmatic manner of his. She paused to allow the Traveller to speak.

Instead, Enna Lantisca smiled. "That is precisely it. A common purpose must bind people together. A common enemy is easiest, certainly, but I am greatly concerned with how to maintain that if there is no threat." She shook her head. "Some among the nobility are not bad people - maybe even good people - and they certainly cannot help the station of their birth. It is as you have said, however. Far too many simply 'do' without knowing what they are doing, much less understanding why they do it aside from it being their prerogative." She furrowed her brow, glancing up at the girl again, fondly. "I say that it is nobody's given prerogative. I say, as do you, that one should aim to inspire, not to command. That is my goal." She nodded slowly, gaining confidence that here, finally, was a thoughtful young mind with whom she could share in the truest sense. "That is why I am an idea instead of a person to most. Such a leader must emerge organically, not be ordained by myself or even be myself."

“It's like on the ships, and you can tell the difference almost instantly just from the atmosphere. You have the ship captains who listen to the concerns of the crew, who are supportive and inspiring, who maintain a visible presence and are often well-liked. Then you have the others, often appointed due to rank or privilege, rarely seen on deck, barking orders, dismissing concerns, and then wondering why they struggle to retain sailors – eager to blame everyone but themselves. The first is leading, the latter is ruling. While a noble cannot choose the station of their birth, it does not mean someone of that station is automatically qualified to lead. Leadership is a skill, not one exclusive to the noble class.” She paused for a moment, considering whether to share, then decided to. “My father is of the first kind, and he tries his hardest. And as for me… we still have much to learn.”

With the latter point, she nodded. “That was the point we tried to make to Ash when he spoke of his plans for ReTan. He said he opposes tyranny, but one cannot help likening it to a customer complaining at a restaurant. It doesn't mean he would make a gourmet chef if he stepped in.” She couldn’t help but smile with some amusement at the parallel she made, but hoped the point was clear. “As for you, you see yourself as a source of inspiration, donning the guise of a humble traveller, journeying from village to village, removed and disconnected – an observer or at least an impartial party. Yet, for your sage advice and the wisdom of your travels, you recognize you must not lead, for you would have to relinquish the mantle and role you play. And like the Ópera dos Marionetes, each role is has their vital importance to the play.”

"Truly. I wonder," Enna admitted, "if I would not be tempted to rule, to command." She shook her head and rose momentarily, stretching. There were others who seemed to have taken notice of the pair - most pointedly a large reptile that was not a sirrahi. "My nameless name has spread far and wide in so many ways. Some speak of me as a menace, some as a saviour. I have little doubt that I could order some to die not for our common cause but simply for me and they would do it. That..." She trailed off. "is a frightening thing because it means that, on some level, I am failing. My message is failing." The worry was plainly evident on her face. "I am curious. What would you do? How would you handle this?"

Maura paused for thought, as it seemed the Traveller wanted her help, or at least her opinion on something. It was difficult to put herself in those worn-out shoes, but perhaps she could assist the Traveller by playing her role by offering a different perspective. “We would suggest sticking to the purpose of the role, maintaining anonymity, and placing emphasis on the 'what' rather than the 'who'. The message is what's important, not who is saying it. Instead of the narrative being 'the Traveller did this' or 'the Traveller did that', focus on the ordinary people involved. You should be the narrator of the story, not the main lead or hero. Shift the attention to the actors.” She looked toward the woman, “You've signed yourself up for a lonely existence.” offering a sad smile as she recognized the challenges involved.

She then focused back on the task, “Collaborate with and empower others. The message should be that each of us is the hero in this story. Strengthen the unity among people by showcasing their collective efforts, rather than centring on any one person. So, instead of making you the sole symbol of the movement, develop iconography that represents what it stands for. Promote these symbols through art that captures the essence of your message without featuring you – for instance, associate tyrants or malevolent figures with tentacles, symbolizing that only through collective action can these 'villains' be defeated. Promote these symbols through art and imagery, embedding them in the collective unconsciousness of the audience.”

She considered the wording of her last suggestions, “Guide and mentor individuals to take on roles that inspire and motivate others. Encourage and support them to independently spread the message. However, always remember the importance of stepping back when you feel you're becoming too central to the narrative. This will allow perceptions and expectations of you to subside, enabling the focus to remain on the message itself.”

She gazed toward her companion, hoping her words were useful.

The Traveler rose again, but crouched, reaching for Maura's hands. "And just like that, you've distilled it." She smiled thoughtfully. "Why, though?" She tilted her head for a moment and there was none of the shapeshifting that Maura had heard of from Ingrid. "Why are you so helpful? At the risk of centering myself once more, what have I done to make myself important enough to you for such consideration?" She shook her head. "I am not asking for my ego stroked. Truly, I wish to know, for you are exceptional."

Maura's mind raced as the Traveller responded positively to her help and offered a compliment. Her heart fluttered with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. She felt herself on edge, her defences kicking in, her mind whispering that this might be some kind of trick. It drew parallels to the sweet words of unsavoury traders attempting to pour honey in one's ear for a sale, only to turn rude and brash once your back is turned. Maura, whose very existence seemed to offend others, found such words to be almost unnatural.

She looked at the Traveller's hands upon her own, struggling to maintain her composure. Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke. "We've always aimed high, tried to make my mark." She forced a smile, her eyes not quite meeting the Traveller's gaze.

Feeling the warmth of the hands on hers, her thoughts continued to whirl. She questioned the sincerity of the compliment, wondering if she was being mocked or tested. Yet, there was a part of her that desperately wanted it to be genuine, yearning for those words to be true.

She continued to veil her inner turmoil with her practised facade, eventually settling on something approaching a cautious and tentative acceptance of the intention behind the compliment.

Attempting to focus on the questions she was asked, she found them both humbling and perplexing, momentarily leaving her at a loss for words. Why was the Traveller asking her why she was worthy of consideration? It felt like an unexpected role reversal.

Clearing her throat, she contemplated her response. "Well," she began, her tone a touch more earnest than before, "We're just trying to contribute in our own way. There's something a friend once said – that we should try to be the change we want to see. Even if we're still trying to find our place in that. It's why we push ourselves so hard and set such idealistic targets. Even if they seem out of reach, we can always look back and see how far we've come. It's always further than we would have been otherwise."

With that, the Traveler nodded. The large beast had approached closely. "Then it appears that we have much to offer each other." She released the girl. "We shall speak again, at length, in earnest. For now, know that I consider you a friend worth keeping. I believe that our interests align and that..." She trailed off and offered up one final smile. "It is good to have friends, is it not?"

Maura smiled, giving the hands a gentle squeeze before the Traveller released her own. "Sincere friendship is perhaps the greatest gift someone can offer. If that is your intention, then we would be genuinely interested in accepting and reciprocating in kind."

She felt a bit star struck, realizing that her attempt to assist the Traveller in what she perceived as their hour of need had resulted in her forming a friendship with them. "Abdel informed me about the letters you exchanged with Ash, so don't feel the need to be a stranger when it comes to communicating with me if the need arises."

Enna smiled. "Speak of the devil..." she replied with a grin. Abdel was rushing after his animals, but it was also, clearly, an excuse to speak with the Traveler. "I... just may have your address," she admitted with a wink. "Dare I say this is only the start of a long and mutually beneficial partnership."

---

---

Rikard, Abdel, Jocasta, and Trypano found themselves approached by a long, lithe sinewy creature of the palest white. Its eyes burned a fiery blue and its great coils wound about. The sheer energy that it exuded brought most of them to their knees, though this was not the case for Jocasta. Yalen needed her help. She would do what she could to empower the others. From there, it was their fight.

The lake was quickly freezing over, the plants on it curling up and crumpling under the growing frost. Jocasta, however, bled heat into her surroundings. "I have to go. Yalen's alone against... that monster" She glanced over, face lined with worry. "How can I help before I do?"

Abdel looked up in awe at the magnificence that was the frost giant up above. He nearly lost his balance! This thing was comparable to the Sand Wyrm, too. And then flooded in the Ogauraq too. Did he make the right call? Was his fate sealed from the start?

He shook his head upon snapping back to reality thanks to Jocasta's words. “Right.” Abdel steadied himself. “My Skuggvars. There's no way we survive without them.” he looked at Jo. “Please!”

"I shall try to alleviate these symptoms as so to not divide your attention too thinly." Trypano answered back before she started sinking into the ground, drawing the earth below away until her head vanished, stone sealing away the top so as to block attacks from catching her from above, whether by accident or not.

From there she would make her attempt to alleviate the symptoms...

"Yes," Jocasta agreed. As the dragon approached, she grabbed the reins of spacetime and ripped a portal open. Qadira and Dayanara were on the other side of it.

"Wh-what the hell are we doing here?" Rikard exclaimed in a panicked voice. "We have... no chance against that thing without you!" He'd fought monsters before, of course, but they hadn't necessarily looked like monsters as this one did.

Then, the ground itself began to shake and separate.

The moisture in it condensed and froze into dagger-like crystals that grew explosively in every direction.

"Sophomoric," hissed Evil Eye, melting the ice. She superheated the water and then rapidly froze it, raking the beast with thousands of tiny, razor sharp cystals. The Skuggvars synchronously belched out corrosive steam to melt the nearby ice and render the frosty useless. The beasts” skin glistened in a thin coat of mucus to help with the heat. Abdel kept his distance, and thus remained safe. Rikard managed to blast the ice crystals away by depolarizing the water crystals within them.

Abdel drew from some of the steam from his Skuggs to create a makeshift layer to evaporate the remaining ice projectiles Trypano could not stop. Then, the Skuggs launched a barrage of spikes from their tails toward the big threat.

The enormous dragon whipped up a cyclonic wind to push the projectiles away. They were redirected at Trypano.

Trypano might have been beneath the earth but she could detect the oncoming surge of energy. She attempted to draw the moisture away from her pocket so the ice could not form. However, several spikes made their way not forming in the air but punching through the soil. She braced for impact but a surge of heat managed to melt them away in the nick of time. How thoughtful. She just hoped they weren't putting themselves in danger just to help her.

The barrage of spikes was scattered more or less effortlessly. However, one slipped through to stick right between two of the enormous white beast's scales. It let out a frosty hiss of annoyance and batted at the tiny skewer. Then, it had to deal with Rikard.

A ball of lightning shot towards the dragon, but it opened its vast maw and sucked all of the energy out of the attack. The air grew colder.

Annoyed by this tiny human's efforts and recognizing Jocasta as the greatest threat, the dragon disappeared.

Jocasta slowed time and created a physical shield around her, but it wasn't enough. As she slipped away, the barrier shattered and her ankle was caught in it and broken. There was no reaction, but she knew about the injury.
Meanwhile, Trypano attempted to bless her allies with a boon as the frigid dragon loomed over them, readying its new assault.

"You should probably try to hit big ugly," Evil Eye grumbled. However, she tried something else instead. "Your eyes are not yours."

The dragon blinked. It seemed unaffected. Evil Eye swallowed and took a step back. But then something came from behind to attack her.

Elephant Mouth's explosive attack was absolutely colossal. A mushroom cloud rolled up into the sky, lightning snaking and writhing about it. The heat was phenomenal.

Qadira ran in front of Evil Eye, used her big fat blubber to defend from the shockwave. Evil Eye was able to handle the rest, drawing locally to escape the effects. "Holy.... shit." She twisted to regard the Ogauraq girl, alarmed.

Then, a tug of war over the blessing Jocasta sought to bestow onto her allies, between the caster herself and the dragon. After an intense showdown, the warmth had cooled into nothing, but left the serpentine creature vulnerable. The chemical magic was dispelled and, with it, Yalen seemed in trouble not so very far away. It appeared that Ash had brought... friends. Jocasta shot them a bereft look and disappeared.

They were on their own.

A wave of cold and poison sought to sap the group of their strength. Qadira was in a vulnerable spot. Abdel, knowing this wasn’t winnable without his beasts, actively sucked the poison toward himself rather than let his Skuggvar be weakened. He released a wheezing cough afterward, falling to his knees.

Evil Eye lifted her eyepatch, revealing what was beneath. The shrivelled powergazer eye let loose a stream of reddish-gold energy.

The dragon was pinned down by the pair of skuggvars. It was only for a moment, but it was all that Evil Eye needed.

The dragon writhed and twitched in place. But it wasn't enough. The beam sliced its head clean off. Its eyes went dark as the massive chunk hit the ground. Its body fluttered and collapsed like a falling ribbon.

Trypano, upon feeling the familiar forces of the draw upon her lines the walls of her pocket with flesh before letting her blood flow freely, replacing it as it leaves her body to try and keep the pool inside her fresh. It seems her hypothesis is correct, diffusing the weight of the forces on her mana and alleviating the symptoms of the sickness.

Smoke streamed from Evil Eye's titular eye. Dried blood was caked all around it. She wobbled and dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. "Go to hell where you belong, you piece of shit." Everyone watched for a moment, not quite believing that they'd actually killed this monster.



They were right.

The corpse twitched. Black blood began gushing out in three great streams. The blood congealed into swarms - swarms of demonic insects. They piled one upon the other. The heat was unfathomable. The dragon’s skin began to blacken and crisp. A sickening stench pervaded the air.

The wicked heads - warped, twisted, and burning - form where once there was one. Three pairs of glowing red eyes opened, casting their bale case upon three separate targets. The dragon rose once more, long trails of flame working their way down the revived behemoth's back. It arched its middle head and released a colossal screeching roar.

---

The horrible monstrosity that emerged from the infested, decapitated body of the Frost Dragon had shifted its attention to another target: The Golden Dragon’s enemies. In fact, both avians had switched positions, bringing the one-armed golden beasts before Abdel, Rikard and Trypano while Evil eye made quick pursuit of the creature she had previously decapitated.

In exchange, they got Golden Monkey in his ever brilliant shroud of gold.

The dragon's arm quickly grew back, incomplete and fleshy, but functional. The moment that it sighted the new threat, the dragon plunged for it, releasing a mighty tower of flame in Abdel's direction.



Abdel was still recovering from the foul sights he had actually seen. No longer were these horrors mere images, they came to life right before him. He absently tended to Dayanara, relieving from her recent contamination. The arrival of the golden dragon had finally come to, and he barely had time to prepare for the mighty spiral of flames coming right at him. An improvised shelter of stone was in order!

The Skuggvars intervened, coating themselves with a protective mucus oozing from their pores to protect from the heat. They piled over the shelter made by Abdel, protecting themselves and their master from harm. They then drdw as much as possible from the tower of flames, and spewed back massive globs of burning, napalm-like fluid.

The dragon conjured a massive wind to blow the gobs away. They scattered and it remained in place, utterly unperturbed. The sight of the strange egg annoyed it, so the golden dragon redirected the burning gobs towards it, enhancing them with chemical reactions of its own.

The gobs splashed against the egg, but they lacked quite the sting that they should. Trypano is rudely melted out of her refuge, but was otherwise uninjured. Rikard had gone virtually unnoticed in the commotion, but he was hard at work on something.

There was something inside the egg that was even more displeasing than it. The dragon decided that it needed to die.

As the tail collided with the placid looking yet perpetually annoyed binder the ground quaked with the force of its impact, little to be seen as she's buried beneath it. As it slid it's limb away however Trypano appeared to be laying flat, completely intact as she was pressed into a soft cushioning mould she formed out of the ground below. "You know, you are making it quite difficult to sympathize with your plight when you attack non-aggressors." She retorted flatly, a subtle underlying tone of snark beneath her icy response.

The dragon ignored her completely. "A healer of the enemy is no friend," its voice echoed through her head and those of others within its range.

The dragon glared at the Sanguinaire that had caused him much grief. It was going to show him what true, unadulterated power truly was. The beast lunged forward and attempted to ensnare the speedy Golden Monkey.

Golden Monkey wretched the scales like a spiral, drilling into it to make it release. The dragon was enraged. It inhaled with a high pitched screech as a very brief warning to those unfortunate enough to walk under its shadow. A massive wall of flames descended upon the group!

All managed to pull through with minor burns. Dayanara, groaning in frustration from the mild burns, launched a barrage of quills toward the dragon’s eye. Monkey took this opportunity to strike. He warped underneath it and launched a heavenly right at the wound he had previously created.

The Golden Dragon sneered at the coming quills. They were yet another petty attempt to harm it. It was about ready to redirect it like it did the blobs of flaming mucus but ... It was a distraction?! That Yasoi seized this opportunity to return the favour. A Heavenly lance destined for its very neck, ensuring a fate just like the one of its comrade.

At this moment, the dragon closed its eyes. Everything slowed down.

Then, it radiated a brilliant gold, a light that could blind those that stared directly at it.

Fortune was its true power. Fate was rewritten.

The lance missed and the quills hit its robust scales.

"You cannot fight he who can manipulate fate itself." It shook its great maned head. "Surrender now and pledge your loyalty and I shall allow you to live. I do not wish for more death."

“How do I know this isn't just another lie?! Your leader did just that! Lie right to our faces!” screamed out Abdel.

"There are some truths for which the lesser races are unprepared. This is a burden we must bear for you."

"My allegiance is to my word. I shall sustain my colleagues until we return, regardless of their choices." responded Trypano.

“You are arrogant. That is how you lost ReTan! Just STOP!” pleased Abdel.

The dragon said no more and leered the youngest of the group. The one that reeked of something unnatural.

Rikard blinked. Uh-oh.

A cloud of white smoke erupted from its nostrils and surrounded the kid. And with a simple amber from the crunch of its teeth, the whole cloud ignited in one grand explosion.

Rikard called upon the powers of deep magnetic magic to stome the attack before much more than a bit had been issued, and it came out far less powerful than it could've. He was barely more than slightly singed.

Then, it was Abdel’s turn, as a spire of flames descended upon the boy. Abdel inhaled as he saw the flames befall him. The thunderchild focused deeply at the centre of the tower of fire. Sparks of electricity danced around his being as the searing pole of death splitted in the middle as it reached him, while he maintained the air around him cooled enough to not succumb to a heatstroke. But as courageous as he had shown himself, he could not stop it all. His extremities were burnt to the second and third degree. Still, he kept a strong face. Abdel did not falter this time. Caught off guard, he meekly tries to move his damaged body, but it is too late. The dragon used this chance to close distance and trap him between its claws. The dragon prepared to end this child’s life. A simple burst of flames would have sufficed, and yet it took its time to charge. Like it was hesitating.

In the nick of time, Rikard and Monkey were capable of conjuring a thunderous attack that would have annihilated the beast on the spot at the potential expense of Abdel. In response, the dragon shined once more, and gave Abdel another lease on life. The boy scampered off, still hurting from the burns. He tripped near his Skuggvar, growing increasingly exhausted.

Abdel Rose. Burnt, wheezing and broken. But not defeated. “We cause a lot of trouble for lesser beings, don't we?” he coughed, and readied his attack. Sparks flickered around him once more. The recoiling dragon could barely hear him after eating Trypano’s and Rikard’s counterattack right at the face.

The clouds above swelled once more with power after Rikard's use of the Heavenly wrath. “Heh. No way am I gonna be outdone by a guy obsessed with boobs.” he joked, and then coughed again.

Meanwhile, the Skuggvars lined up and drew as well. They were to attack from below, while Abdel ushered hell from above. Flames leaked out of their thick lips from an excess of corrosive and flammable mucus. Bombs capable of obliterating a quarter of a small village were about ready to be shot.

The thunderbolt crashes upon the dragon, forcing it to fall onto its underbelly. Right before it were the Skuggvars with nothing but rage in their beady eyes. And just as they were about to claim the head of a second dragon, they froze. A voice called out.

“STOP!”

The animals obeyed, more so from his magical control over them than a willingness to listen to him. Still, the magical tug was enough for them to be dissuaded. “Enough.” he panted. “Enough. You're all going to lose this country if you just keep killing each other. You're going to DIE for NOTHING!” he clenched his burnt fists. “How can you be so proud as to lose so much for NOTHING?!”

The dragon was quick to rise, deeply wounded though he clearly was. "Then I will die for a noble cause. These men are tyrants and those who serve them have been won over by their honeyed words." He coughed, and it was great, wracking wheeze that echoes in his chest and resounded across the ruins of the imperial gardens.

"They rose to their thrones through lies, murder, and genocide. Yet every one of you would fight alongside them." The enormous reptilian shook his head. "I would rather fight for the light than live on in your darkness."

"If it means allying with some who are less than savoury, then I will hold my nose and bear it. Perhaps they may yet be redeemed or, if not, then they too will be brought to justice."

“And yet Wu Long lied to us, is keen on murdering everyone here and wishes to genocide the Sanguinaires.” Abdel limped toward one of his Skuggvars, Dayanara, and began to a slow healing process of the beast. “There is no light at the end of this tunnel if we just keep killing each other, Golden Dragon.” The boy sighed. “And could not these current rulers be redeemed either?”

The dragon shook his vast head sadly. "You foolish child." He let out an exasperated snort. "I have lived a hundred of your human lifetimes and I have seen what these sanguinaires are capable of. Others have warned you of them. I have now warned you of them. You have no idea how black their souls are, what they are capable of, the brutality and depredations, the shameless depths of lies that they use to get what they desire." He let out a long, pained groan. "The only good sanguinaire is a dead sanguinaire. I do not want you to realize the truth of my words some years from now when their evil spreads yet further. I am not saying this for the satisfaction of being right. THEY. ARE. AN. EXISTENTIAL. THREAT. Do not be fooled. Please!"

"In the end why put faith in humanity achieving better?" She grimly remarked. "Your faith in the very people who bought their lies and cast you down will lead to disappointment. In the end it is simply a condition of their design, to trust that which resembles them over the unfamiliar, To betray others for short-term benefits, to cut and to eat away regardless of how much harm they bring." As she readied to heal the wounds it had left her she let sift through her grit teeth a weary sigh.

"There are greater evils in this world, dragon. Those that stem from the very origins of things we now see. I cast my concerns to the very fate of this world. This, however, is mostly just an exercise in disappointment... For yourself, and for I."

Just then, some distance away, the great white dragon that had become a black monstrosity fell, erased from existence by a phenomenally powerful atomic blast. In a different direction, the Black Guard Cold Soup fell at the hands of a ronin with a spectacular sword. At least a handful of ogauraq lay dead about the battlefield. Many others, from all sides, were injured. The Progenitor himself held Sleeping Carp by the neck, lifting him off the ground. They were killing each other: killing each other for reasons as varied as deeply set beliefs, the love of friends, or simple mercenary gain.

An equally sad look washed over Abdel's face. His fresh, fifteen year old view of the world was consisently challenged and demolished. Entire peoples were worthy of being hated and killed, and ancient and majestic beings staked their lives to put an end to them. It all felt so insidious. So wrong. The worst part was how he could relate to this dragon, a mere instrument to grander schemes. Abdel sat not too far from the pained dragon, he himself barely coping with the burns he just started to heal. “... But these ones are going against the tide you've known for centuries.” Abdel recalled the visions. Were they all fabricated? He did not know. He felt as though Carp could be trusted. Somehow, there was a genuineness to that man. A mysteriousness too, but something trustworthy that made him recall Ranger Manuel Escarra. “I've seen evil too. I know I'm young but I've seen evil.” Tavio Ortega, Huarcan Frannemas ... “I don't believe this to be true.”

Abdel shot a look at Trypano. He wasn't angry, and if anything he was a tad disappointed at himself. But that smugness in her words always rubbed him the wrong way. It did to most. “What is that darkness with many arms that looms over all of us?” asked the Tethered boy, seemingly out of the blue. “Wu Long's master. Your master.”

"It is order, boy. It is not darkness. It is what keeps this world from coming apart at the seams. It is something that has the power to destroy us - all of our combined abilities, all of our strength - as if it were nothing." His great coils were settling now. He was flagging. "They are the Knowers - for they know all - a primordial force beyond the mysterious sirrahi and the sanguinaires, the wildbloods, even your Quentic Gods." He shook his great draconic head weakly. "They are neither good nor evil. they simply arbitrate this world and others. If they find us wanting, we shall all be erased." He bowed his head, as if accepting something. "This is why I was made. This is why I serve."

Rikard staggered back, eyes wide and brow furrowed. He was not certain if this was a profound revelation - some deep truth beyond his understanding - if it was the blathering of a mad beast, or if it was a programme of lies designed to corrupt his reason. The idea of simply accepting - of bowing to the arbitrary whims of some self-appointed greater beings - rubbed him the wrong way. Was not the very essence of life to grow, to discover, to learn, and to thrive? Simple acceptance of a status quo led to stagnation. That, his storied many-greats uncle had impressed upon him in one of their few meetings. That, he held as true. He wrinkled his nose in subtle, silent disgust at the preachings of this dragon, for they were not truth - not a truth that he would accept, anyway.

"I am aware of the Knowers." She replied, finally satisfied to start cutting to the heart of this grand conspiracy. "I had spoken to one, or so the five had told me."

She looked to the chaos enveloping the scene around them. She had to do something to help the others, despite the insignificance of her abilities overall. "Perhaps, if the damage to the timeline could be mitigated, one could go back and warn of what these choices will have brought us all."

It was a dangerous suggestion. She loathed to manipulate time in such a way as it threatened the stability of the timeline. If one such creature would know the consequences however, it would be this one.

"I still stand by my words earlier, that there's a better choice than to clash here and now, leaving so much of value lost to the ever-cleansing tides of inevitability. I know not how best to save what is lost, only the regret that comes with witnessing it."

“And so you remove one tyrant,” Abdel muttered, just loud enough for the dragon to hear. “for the sake of an even worse one, holding us hostage so we follow their design.” this did not terrify him. It actually felt like he knew this, in a way. What he had seen had told him this, but his mind could not understand it until it was put into words. “I ... Resent this - this existence. I do not want to just take it. And we are stronger now, Golden Dragon. Stronger than you all were lifetimes ago.”

The dragon's great head came to rest on the ground. His breath came in gasps and wheezes. "You are making the gravest of mistakes," he rasped. "The hands of time. It is exactly such interventions that invite the wrath of the Knowers, for they are otherwise benevolent and even -" A deep shudder vibrated through his serpentine body. "kind."

In the background, fighting continued. A colossal explosion of pure darkness emanated from the direction where the Twin Emperors faced down Wu Long. "Yes, you will find them kind. No," he gasped, struggling to shake his head. "No, you cannot fight them. You will see. I hope you do not see, but you will if you..." He let out another wheeze. "If you persist."

The air around them, then, seemed to waver. It grew light and electric. Space seemed to lift itself from time for a moment. "I am sorry I could not save you," the dragon wheezed. "That I could not beat you with mercy - a mercy you have not shown me. I have doomed you." Foam began to collect about his lips. He uttered one final word: "Run."



The dragon appeared to be about to expire. However, sensing accurately was very difficult. The air roiled with a strange, rich sort of energy. You cannot properly sense it though it is there. You cannot draw from it. You cannot use it.

Trypano, seeing that the dragon had made it's final choice, decided to heed it's words. She looks quickly to see if anyone else requires aid in fleeing before she turns heel and makes haste herself.

Abdel stood up, still unable to run, and limped back until he could straddle Qadira. “Dammit ...” he cursed, upset over the unfortunate outcome. He had shown mercy, and yet this beast - no, this individual was still dying. And by the looks of it, something else was at play. Thoughts on the ways of the world were put aside in favour of his own survival. He and the Skuggs made as much distance as they could.

Rikard, genuinely unnerved, senses something that he doesn't understand. In many cases, his natural curiosity might take hold. In this instance, caution wins the day. "Go!" he screamed. "Go! Go! Go!"



The sky opened like a massive eye of the purest blinding white.

Event: Metropolis But With A Touch Of Big Game Hunting

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Ingrid laid hunched over on the ground from the massive draw. She had felt this so many times before, but why does she still kneel to it? Her body settled as she catapulted herself through the air. Finding her feet with Niallus, Valerian, and the one that almost ended her life yesterday, Golden Monkey. They seemed to be faced with the Gold Dragon. She knew little of it, but it was clear it was no mere dragon. And before the fight could even begin, the Oguraq made their entrance.

The Oguraq seemed happy to see Niallus and Valerian. Just how much trust did they have in Niallus, Ingrid wondered, but never questioned his loyalty to her. But the Dragon of Fortune knew. He was well aware of the supposed betrayal and made no waste to attack us.

Roots and metal melded out of the very ground and slashed as if they were his own claws. As Ingrid shattered them, slivers and shards jutted out, leaving her covered in shallow wounds. Nothing to fret over, Ingrid cracked an assured smile, the attack was of great size but with of pathetic lethality. With the Oguraq still confused, Ingrid yelled out to them like she was an ally. Her attempt to capitalize their confusion was only met with unsure grunts. Worth a shot, Ingrid thought as she knew what to do next.

She didn't miss a beat to rip out a small ornate box from her sash. The outer layer ignited from heat, and soon the lead interior went molten. A small chunk of green rock produced more power than any uranium she had used prior. Its radiation was intense, as Ingrid could feel it bombarding her energetic shield, trying to overwhelm her for even attempting its use. And with that her infinity loop was initiated, and she wasn't going to put it down.

The battle had started, and she knew that others needed to prepare themselves as well. Attacks were thrown on all sides, Ingrid was even able to still the heat of its attack to strike it on the neck. A light wound for a monster so large, but with luck they could whittle it down to nothing, ending its life. Golden Monkey jested at the group's mediocrity, and in truth, he was right. Only Ingrid had successfully empowered herself. Not that the jester followed his own advice, what made him so confident? It had been an easy exchange, the Oguraq resigned themselves to leaving us students alone, and the attacks were relatively meager for such a beast. Maybe it wanted to leave us alive? Could it have reservations on killing the young like Dragon Smirk? Ingrid would be a liar if the thought of that didn't bring some guilt to her heart, but she was no longer a child, she made this choice and she would follow her formal commitments.

That notion was wiped from her mind the instance she sensed something in its mouth. She feared it. It was dark magic. A breath of nothingness blotted all Ingrid could see. It was like a nightmare. She ran as fast as she could while making stony ice to help protect herself from what she knew to be oblivion. Barely making it out alive with the help of Niallus's sudden yank of kinetic magic, any guilt she could have felt vanished. Ingrid raged, intensifying her the atomic energy into a line of super-heated plasma. It struck through its belly scales and sliced the beast open. No blood could fall as it had been cauterized. It wretched from the pain, and Ingrid felt an unreasonable amount of satisfaction.

But then a mistake was made. Throughout the fight, Dragon Smirk had been defending the dragon from the worst of Golden Monkey's blows. Either outright stopping or severely weakening him. There was a chance to turn it in our favor, to make the dragon fall oh so faster. Monkey had faked and attack on the Golden Dragon and turned it on the annoyance. It was going to kill Dragon smirk, he was defenseless against Golden Monkey. But Valerian. Valerian intervened, preventing the attack. He tried to convince them to leave. He really did try. If only they were more cowardly.

But Valerian made a small mistake, he halfheartedly attacked the Golden Dragon of Fortune. The attack was absorbed, and it was like the world sparked to life. Thunderclouds formed overhead. Small pieces left over from its first attack began to levitate and zap each other. If it had not been for Rikard, Ingrid would have been ignorant to just what was coming for them. There was a final and eerie silence before the heaven's ripped open to deliver upon us an ungodly attack strike.

So bright that you couldn't see without magic, so intense that your muscles would randomly convulse. Protecting yourself was all you could do. No one was safe from it. Metallic shaving that stuck to her wounds and clothes had gone ignored by Ingrid. Now they served as a conduit into herself. Burnt and convulsing, Ingrid's breath had been broken, and she fell to her knees. The pain came after as her body tried to make sense of what happened. She knew, but her body never had she been it by such an attack, and there was nothing she could do to calm her nerves. She was at the mercy of it in the meantime.

By luck or mercy, Golden Monkey had made himself its main target once again. The fight was beyond her comprehension. Arcane and Gravity magic years beyond her reach, being sent with like the common Wyvern's Breath and Levitation. Chemical magic she could never grasp, thrown out by a man that makes the tallest yasoi look short. Mass demon summoning from your very flesh to do away with your foes. This was the battle Ingrid watched as she recovered. She could only look at her Staff of Ahn-Shune and infinity loop and pray that it would be enough. What Ingrid needed was time.

Then in a moment, while Ingrid planned the rest of the battle, Dragon smirk had an arm through his chest. It was quick and painless. He would remain conscious for only a moment. Dami judge his soul well. Golden Monkey seemed to care little for this fight anymore. He boasted how it was over, but everyone could tell this had taken more out of him and us then he thought. The Dragon also attempted to heal, and we struck it hard enough to interrupt what could be defeat. The Golden Dragon was done with petty attempts and struck at us individually.

It flew down at incredible speeds and with these thin blades or radiation jutting out of it. Ingrid ran the best she could, repelling them until it drew from her own infinity loop and her defense faltered. Slash burnt through her ribs and side, nearly hitting her lung. Some of her organs were damaged, and she fell to the ground, just holding things in with kinetic. Ingrid could hear the cries of other's being hit, but she couldn't say who, she was barely holding on, any strength in her was quickly dissipating. But fortune finally shined on us.

Golden Monkey called upon his gravity magic, but something was different about it this time, It warped more. Temporal, was all Ingrid could accredit it to. Whatever it was, it was focused on its greater arm. Scales ripped and teared under the force. Then the muscle. Then the bone even shattered under its intensity. He had ripped off what was a completely uninjured arm with a single go. The Golden Dragon Cried out and retreated. Ingrid felt herself wishing to end it before it could bring more harm, but her legs were faltering, she had barely survived this fight, and she wasn't sure if she could even make it.

There was a pause. Ingrid spent the time briefly describing her plan to end the next fight quickly. She stitched her body together better than she thought possible, another reason why Binding was an amazing magic. She did her best to explain that they needed to empower themselves better this time. They both had chemical, and they needed to make use of it. Enhancements were handed out in preparation and even Golden Monkey lent his aid, Maybe we've earned his help?

They joined the Black Guard Evil Eye, also known as Linlin, in battle with what looked less like a dragon but a child's dark imagination of a dragon. Multiple heads and a dark body. It made anyone instinctually weary of it. Still, it wouldn't be long for this world. Unlike the godly beings that have enough power to send hits of detonations with every attack, Ingrid bid her time and built up her power inconspicuously.

However, it seemed none of them were ready for this beas- No, monster. Its heads shook rthymically, and Ingrid prepared herself for what was happening, but she realized too late, and her response was too weak. They were brought to a forest outside Retan. Was it Temporal magic? Does it matter it was so…

Nice…

The weather was nice and sunny, it smelled of fresh flowers and the music was pleasant. All those tenuous thoughts like Maura, survival, and even the extremely…

Extremely… Extremely what, a light gust had the flowers sway so beautifully, Extremely beautiful? It is extremely beautiful! Ingrid felt immense joy and went to hold her lover's hand, "Let's go frolicking Niallus!" She went along with the guides through the forest. Skipping happily.

At least it was.

But her happy reality was crashed by a terrifying sight. Pure black pits, flames, and teeth. What nightmare is this?! Ingrid let out a peep before it was back to strawberries. Ingrid was suddenly less trusting of the surroundings. But the guides tried to reassure her. Lor did as well. What could possibly be wrong…

Things got more odd, maybe it was her experience with psychedelics, but this seemed more like a bad trip. The whale's mouth was scary, and it seems little Linlin also thought it was weird. But Niallus and Valerian called them silly, it's just a whale. They entered the mouth, it wasn't too bad.

Then pain arrived at her feet, and the illusion faded. This was no Whale mouth. It was the stomach of the dragon. Tentacles were even in here. It seemed Evil Eye and Valerian wrangled free from the deception but Niallus. He just smiled. His mind was still departed even as the tentacles latched onto him and acid scalded his boots. This was fear, Ingrid was no chemist. She had no way to help, She tried mutating it, but all it did was irritate it.

Enough to make the acid rise. Debris caught in the stomach acid melted in an instant, they rose to avoid, but Niallus didn't move. Ingrid tried to rip him away, but she wasn't strong enough. Not fast enough to keep trying. Panic set in for her, and she left him there, prioritizing herself. She ripped out the hand fan from her sash and slapped the inside of its throat, taking away its sight. Screaming in rage as she believed he was left behind.

As they exit, she was ready to rage, but Valerian was able to pull Niallus out before it was too late! He was alive! Now, the issue was that her infinity loop was unmanaged for so long. She grasped it with her own energy to keep it going. If it were to fail, then all her planning and waiting would be for nothing. The Green rock was nearly out of control, and Ingrid couldn't even tell if it would fizzle out or explode. Mixing cryomancy and Atomic, she was able to settle it down. Now all was left was to end it before it could muster another illusion such as that. But there was another screaming idiot in the mix now. A stupid Oguraq who screamed about my brother. Ingrid couldn't be sympathetic to them, this was war and they brought an unforgivable monster.

Ingrid laid back like she was preparing a large spell, a charge spell to be exact. The fighting continued and then suddenly the Staff of Ahn-Shune glowed. Ingrid released the rest of her radium, creating a powerful reaction. A burst of power far beyond her control. She just needed to release it at this monster. Her hatred was immense, the flames burned red and then pure white. She yelled, "Deyðu, skrímslið þitt!"

The flash was so blinding—so forceful—that everyone within sight of it recoiled. A gargantuan column of pure light rose three hundred feet into the air and a hundred feet through solid ground. When people blinked and staggered to their senses, they beheld an enormous canyon gouged into the earth itself, blackened and scorched for miles. Fortunately, it was not in the direction of the city. There was no sign whatsoever of the dragon that had been there.

The shockwave rag dolled a few, but overall they got lucky. The Dragon was done, and now it was time for the Oguraq girl. She stood defiantly defeated, asking for death. Ingrid was not so merciful to leave a loose end when they are capable of so much. This was a war. But Niallus was too injured for her not to attend to him. It was a loose end that she would have to accept. The battle was over, and that Oguraq left. Their fight was over at least.

Or so Ingrid thought before the world cracked open.

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When Yuli had gone to this monastery, she had expected good, godly men to face her and provide answers and explanations. What she found instead, was a disgusting farce. Pretenders, hiding answers, keeping a friend under lock and key. She was ready for the fight, the manas returning her sense of clarity, her body no longer fighting against itself but working in unison, as it should. A mana brew aided her vessel greatly, and she felt strong once more. In fact, feeling was not necessary. She WAS strong. As was Penny. The battle had begun in earnest now, as the monk attempted to eliminate her friend.

A fierce fight ensued. There was an even number of combatants, but the difference in strength between them was palpable. The hegumen and black cap were by far the biggest threats, but even they struggled to defend themselves against the fierce blows of Yuliya, Khaliun, Penny and Yvain. The other, less strong members of the group had held out well as well, covering for each others weaknesses and preventing significant injury. However, a most interesting phenomenon occurred. Penny had made use of the gift from the gods they had been bestowed, and a monk fell to injury. She seemed horrified, but Yuli was proud. A baptism in blood, there was no more fitting use of this gift than to remove the false.

More monks fell in what was quickly becoming a slaughter, and most of her comrades were horrified, but Yuliya was not. Many years had passed since her first kill, and her stomach had long since settled at such a gory display. Her eyes met a familiar pair when Yvain 'poached' her kill, but she recognized in him a similar expression. One that had no qualm with the death of others. She nodded at the boy, but she had no time for words or trouble with the theft, as a runaway explosion had quickly begun. And their magic had disappeared. Fear set into her heart for the first time in this battle, but just as quickly as it was gone, it was back. And boy was she glad that she had taken such a notice in this school, else she may not have survived the ensuing carnage. And when it was over, she looked not to her friends first to check for their safety, but for the body of that Abbott, to make sure he was dead for good. She would ensure he would be remembered in infamy. And when she did not find him, she turned her gaze to Marz, as hegelans emerged from the salt and smoke of the collapse, wielding a great glowing warhammer that seemed to shift and warp reality. Thank Oraff she thought, as the tension left her body and she sat down in the rubble, the tension finally leaving her. She was sure that this would not be the last of it, however.

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The sky writhed and roiled above Wanggang as cosmic entities clashed with the fate of the nation and possibly the entire world on the line. Vast black tentacles blotted out the moons and stars. Heroes of yore clashed with the villains of the present. Enormous bursts of energy - enough to level a city - were released again and again.

Nobody saw any of it. At least… nobody who wasn’t a powergazer or a highly skilled user of magic. At most, some might’ve felt changes in the air pressure, or been woken up in the depths of the night without quite understanding why. They soon fell back into sleep, blissfully unaware.

For those within the grounds of the Imperial Palace, however, the struggle fast became the only reality that they knew. Brother Ash - once the Quentic hero known as Sir Rodric Danneman of Lindermetz - mocked and taunted, having made a temporary alliance with his enemies. From the fabric of space and time itself, he called forth versions of his past allies from the Great Heathen War, fighting alongside them against the Twin Emperors’ forces and the students who had sold their souls to the tyrants for personal gain. Hildr the Red clashed with the Black Guard known as Smoking Bandit. Camille de Saumurre faced down her fellow somnian Yalen Castel. The mighty King Arcel the Victorious did battle with the overwhelming power of Jocasta Re. The Laughing Knight himself was left to the Black Guard Stormcloud, once upon a time his dubious ally, now… an enemy?

Yet, there were other clashes that, if not quite as grand, were nonetheless important. The Nikanese ronin Seki had called forth a copy of the storied hero Hitoshi, who had fought during the Himitsu no Senso. These engaged in a prolonged struggle against the Black Guard duo of Cold Soup and Mountain Spring and their initially reluctant student ally Xiuyang Solari. Meanwhile, Maura, Kaureerah, and the chicken that occupied the former’s lap found themselves facing down the Nikanese tyrant Lady Matsuhara, once again somehow alive following her apparent death at Jocasta’s hands. The two girls were both far better known as charmers than fighters, and what use was a chicken, all told?

Wu Long, a far mightier being who had so roared about the students’ betrayal, was called into battle against the Twins themselves, while the foreign youths set to work felling his - and formerly their own - allies. Cruelly cut down by the Black Guard Golden Monkey was Dragon Smirk, who had offered both Valerian and Niallus hospitality, friendship, and rescue from certain death. In the end, they had decided for greater power, convincing themselves of their moral righteousness and the Black Guard’s honesty. Convinced, also, was Ingrid, who had been swayed by Evil Eye’s emotional entreaty and appeared very ready to gain the powers of a sanguinaire for herself. Only a timely call for mercy by Evil Eye prevented her from killing the slain Dragon Smirk’s sister - Elephant Mouth - as the girl mourned her brother and loudly cursed their betrayal.

The Great White Dragon of Frost and the Golden Dragon of Fortune both fell, the first after being transformed into a hideous three-headed abomination and forcing the students into a terrifying hallucinatory world to rival the very worst of West Callanasti voodoo. The noisy heroes who had felled it and its counterpart strutted about and gloated, the only more-than-perfunctory misgivings among the group expressed by Abdel and the ever-optimistic Trypano who had, in fact, originally sided against the others before - like Kaureerah - being quietly drawn back onside.

The death toll only grew from there as the heroes of yore fell, as did Camille at Yalen’s hands and Hitoshi by way of Xiuyang and Mountain Spring, or were turned, like Hildr by Smoking Bandit. Cold Soup met her end at Seki’s blade and another half-dozen ogauraq allies of the dragons fell in battle. While Laughing Squid and Sleeping Carp battled the Progenitor to a standstill in a contest full of ebbs and flows, the gargantuan power of Wu Long pressed even the Twin Emperors to their limits.

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Then, the Golden Dragon of Fortune collapsed, brought to the edge of death by the combined efforts of Abdel, Trypano, Rikard, and Golden Monkey. Out of him spilled not only his life, but a great many secrets - world-shattering ones were he to be believed: the irrepressible evil of the sanguinaires, the purpose of the dragons and the primordial forces of order who had created them to fight chaos. It was these great beings referred to as ‘Knowers’ who lay beyond time and space lorded over all of creation and now they had been angered.

The air roiled with a strange, rich sort of energy. Try as they might, the mortals below could not properly sense it though they knew it was there. They could not draw from it. They could not use it.

Trypano, seeing that the dragon had made its final choice, decided to heed its words. She looked quickly to see if anyone else required aid in fleeing before she turned heel and made haste. Abdel stood up, still unable to run, and limped back until he could straddle Qadira. “Dammit ...” he cursed, upset over the outcome. He had shown mercy, and yet this beast - no, this individual - was still dying. And by the looks of it, something else was at play. Thoughts on the ways of the world were put aside in favour of his own survival. He and the Skuggvars made as much distance as they could. Rikard, genuinely unnerved, sensed something that he didn't understand. In many cases, his natural curiosity might’ve taken hold. In this instance, caution won the day. "Go!" he screamed. "Go! Go! Go!"

The dragon lasted another ten seconds, perhaps. Then, it began.

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The sky opened like a massive eye of the purest blinding white. The scale of it was colossal: stretching across the entire horizon for as far as anyone could see. It parted like a lazy eye awakening, and then it parted further. From within the blazing whiteness an endless black tentacle crawled forth, dwarfing any living beneath it by orders of magnitude.

Then, a second one appeared.

And a third. They snaked and swirled about the vast white eye, their suckers grasping and popping. There came the sense of something hulking beyond - just on the other side of the veil.

The Progenitor, about to glory in his nearly-complete triumph, paused. The Twin Emperors were brought to a standstill, as was Wu Long. Arcel and Jocasta, in the middle of a contest that was as much one of rhetoric as one of strength, pulled back. People ran and screamed. A fourth and fifth tentacle appeared. A sixth. A seventh. An eighth.

A thunderous red glow issued from the depths of the infernal whiteness. A gargantuan eye peered down at the tiny world from above, vast and ancient in its intelligence and intent: a being of pure calculation.

Or was it? Was not this display more than what was strictly necessary? Did not it provoke primordial terror? And this eye, how it looked down, searching the green lands below. What it saw and what it judged, the mortals that it gazed upon could not fathom.

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Then, from within the light emerged a new darkness - a second darkness. Itself, it opened like an eye. A small figure emerged - small compared to the vast horror that surrounded it. It was, much in contrast, a thing of whiteness. It began floating down.

But then it turned. Its call echoed across the landscape, heard by a hundred ears in a hundred different voices - that which they would be most likely to listen to and to heed. "Do not run!" it urged. "Stand! Fight!" And that burning white figure - the will and fury of humanity and her sister species - stood alone before the behemoth, blazing at it, implacable.

It was the Traveler.

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♫

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Her form was that of Enna Lantisca, among the greatest of mages to have ever lived and a companion of the great Hugo Hunghorasz’s youth. She reached out with all of the magic that she could muster and struck one of the enormous tentacles. Momentarily, it recoiled, but then it redoubled.

Those below were galvanized. Rodric and Stormcloud paused in their halfhearted battle to add their strength. Ingrid gathered her atomic power. Trypano called upon her blood magics, and Arcel of Perrence turned from Jocasta to face the new threat. "I stand, once more, as humanity's shield." He gathered his energy. His companion Hildr loosed a Holy Lance on the beast and Captain Zhu attempted to follow. His explosive spell blew up in his face instead, and only a quick reaction saved him from self-immolation.

Others were not cowed by the mishap, however. Captain Zhao struck true. Kaureerah, over the panicked fluttering and clucking of the chicken that had accompanied her and Maura, managed to launch a sonic attack with her lute. Maura materialized a multitude of spikes that she hurled into the heavens.

Yalen had not been there to hear the last words of the dragons, but he had borne witness to the arrival of the eldritch abomination and, sensing the great danger it posed to everyone present, he decided to do what was necessary. His hated enemy was within arm's reach, but apprehending the Traveler was a duty that could wait for another time. "Smoking Bandit!" Yalen called to the black guard with a hand outstretched. "Lend me your black powder!" However, the young somnian found it already on him. Smoking Bandit nodded.

Yalen nodded back. His intent was obvious: It was time to start a chain reaction. He uncapped the powder horn and thrust it into the sky, allowing its contents to scatter into the wind. The young priest placed a hand underneath his robe and held the dragon's jewel aloft, igniting the ancient fuel source so that it might serve as a catalyst for his final attack. "Burn." The air exploded into flames, and under Yalen's control all of that chemical energy was sent screaming towards the pitch black invader.

Abdel and his beastly companions gathered a colossal amount of electromagnetic energy and prepared to release it. “I will NOT run!” the youth roared. He cast.

Then Xiulan poured what little magic she knew into the growing onslaught. Yin gave it what she had. So did little Yong. Xiuyang let loose an arcane lance. Jocasta threw her considerable power in as well, telekinetically grabbing one of the massive tentacles and wrenching it away from an intended target.

Valerian, exhausted, bruised, and battered, watched as the sky itself was split by a great eye, which was swiftly joined by one, two, three...and finally eight vast limbs. Vel paled, but his mind went to what might happen if he did nothing, if any of them chose not to act. He pushed to his feet and closed his eyes. Legs shaky beneath him, Valerian, Remi. Leclere nonetheless decided to give it his all. Despite his injuries, his exhaustion, and the occasional flare of pain that ran through him from overexerting himself, he pushed forward. "Why stop now," he murmured as a look of intense concentration slipped onto his features.

He drew all of the energy he could get, weaving his three schools into a single attack, but his exhaustion showed through. Despite his efforts, his casting was clearly weakened. He pressed on, conjuring a projectile of pure kinetic force, filled with pressurized fire and separated from a layer of extremely flammable air. Nonetheless, it proved drastically weaker than it ought to have been: unstable, leaking energy. Still, it was something. He unleashed it, hurling the great lance of force and fire up and at the eye of the tremendous beast. Perhaps it would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

He was not the only one who was struggling to make much of an impact. With Maura’s encouragement Kaureerah looked at the chicken that had proven a constant distraction. She knew that there was more to it. There had to be. "Yoo, Eye knoow yoo aur noo naurmel boord. Eye need yoo too look et mee." She made eye contact with its beady little black eyes. It looked back at her. Chicken let out its sixth Primordial Cluck. It grew, and an aura of heat began to emanate from it.

Mountain Spring leapt far into the sky and struck a tentacle with a colossal kinetically-displaced punch, while Golden Monkey burned it with fantastic fire. Energy poured out of Evil Eye's ravaged eye socket, peeling away flesh and skin. A burning crimson Polaris Beam stretched a mile up into the sky and struck the monstrosity. The Black Guard smoked and bled and, when it was done, collapsed in a heap, unconscious.

The ronin Seki looked to the others, having prepared his retreat, but his eyes met his former combatant, Mountain Spring, before he spoke. "Help me, and we can both bury our grudges. Otherwise, we'll meet our comrades far sooner than we should. Whatever you are, that thing is worse."

Spring's expression was flat. Wordlessly, he seized the man with both his hands and complied without even a grunt of exertion. Seki was fired at the speed of a literal missile right at the eye of the storm. The ronin slashed at reality as he was launched, creating a multitude of ripples as he ascended to the height of the eye. Such a disgusting sight was unfit to look upon this beautiful world that the gods had crafted, however corrupted it may have become. He struck true and the titan recoiled.

Sir Rodric was not to be outdone, however. "WHHHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! EAT SHIT, YOU TENTACLED FUCK!!!" he brayed and, from his hands leapt a colossal roiling explosion that brightened half the sky.

Stormcloud sighed. A pear was ripped out of a blackened portal by her. She ate it and her form shifted: a being with horns of a Qilin and black hair flowing like a fiery mane. Her blade turned into a massive Tetsubo. She raised her almighty club and descended a blackened heavenly wrath onto the monstrosity.

Meanwhile, chicken flapped its wings. "Coome aun! Yoo stoopeed boord!" Kaureerah hissed, gesturing madly at the chicken. She tried to manifest it. She tried to rely on this new magic she was tapping into. Chicken let out its seventh Primordial Cluck. It grew, now, to a monstrous size - easily that of a thresher. Kaureerah's eyes lit up. "Yes!" she crowed. "Yessss, mai meenioon!!!"

The students and Black Guard had started something, it was clear. They had fought when most had thought only to flee. Heartened by the sight, the true heavyweights now threw their full power at the monstrosity. The twin emperors, as one, struck at the great horror that threatened their nation, and it roared and thrashed. Wu Long, the Dragon Emperor, reeled back. He made to flee. Then, he stopped. There was no avoiding this. He turned and opened his enormous mouth.The vast red and silver dragon breathed a stream of molten metal that speared the colossus right in the eye.

The Traveler was everywhere. Now taking the form of a crimson-robed man, he struck again. There was no visible damage, but the monstrosity pulled back.

Hildr launched another lance. Yawen made use of her tethered range. Jocasta tore at space and time itself, deleting chunks of the expanding horror.

Chicken released its eighth Primordial Cluck. A greater aura of misfortune blossomed. "Aulmoost there!" Kaureerah encouraged. "Yoo cen doo eet, mai leetle feathered frend!" With that encouragement, the huge bird let out its ninth Primordial Cluck.

It grew once more, until it towered over all but the dragons. Its feathers gleamed with a metallic light. Its eyes burned ghostly blue. "Cheep"

"Goo, mai meenioon. Nauw ees yoor taim!" Kaureerah took out her lute and launched an attack of her own. The chicken looked rather cross.

Then, as the fell god descended from the heavens, Lucky Dragon collapsed. She lay there on the ground unmoving. A small, sleek dragon with iridescent indigo scales and glowing orange eyes rocketed in from over the palace. It released a burst of concentrated VOID energy. This struck true and the beast let out a shriek.

There was only the Progenitor left to act. He was nowhere to be seen, until… He appeared behind the Traveler. "Your bleeding heart was always your weakness." She had changed forms once again and he reached out to strike her through the heart.

The Traveler grabbed his fist. She tilted her head to one side. "And yours was always your predictable deviousness." She snapped his fist. Her eyes burned with fury and, from one thousand feet up in the sky, she flung him into the hungering whiteness. "Die, tyrant."

The attacks continued to pour in, hammering at the colossus in the sky. Then, it moved. The combined efforts of everyone - of all of these epic heroes and villains - of their great ambition, their rage, their will to live… It was not enough. Marhazannet descended upon Retan.

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Burning Heavens || ♫

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That was when the chicken released its tenth Primordial Cluck. The sound was immense - tremendous. It reverberated across hills and mountains. It intensified the effect of every ounce of damage dealt to the great black horror. It gave humanity and her sisters the extra boost that they needed to put them over the top. The sonic wave struck the tentacled colossus and it reeled backwards in pain. Great sheets of darkness began to slough away and it… began to retreat. The eyelike gap in reality began to close. "Now!" Shouted the Traveler. "One final push!"

“We finish this!” yelled Abdel. Vel's expression hardened. "You're not leaving alive," he proclaimed, calling upon whatever vestiges he could to level one more blow at the titan's fleeing form. Ingrid looked to Trypano, "Make me Uranium!"

Seeing as Trypano was in the thick of it with the rest of them, combining her assault with Ingrid’s was indeed an appropriate choice. With binding she drew from the giant entity itself, pulling at powers outside her knowledge to try and fabricate the materials Ingrid needed.

Lucky Dragon bit down on one of the tentacles. Stormcloud used her unfathomable, Oni-like strength to seize that same appendage, dragging it along with her fellow Black Guard. “Wu Long!” screamed Abdel at the top of his lungs. “Help her!” he pointed at his fellow, younger dragon.

Yalen could feel it. In its moment of weakness, the creature's power had faded to the point where even an insignificant mortal like him could touch its unfathomable essence. He could command it. "Do not underestimate the strength of humanity, monster. You will submit!" Yalen shouted into the sky. It shifted and wavered and let out an ear-piercing roar. Then… "IGNITE!"

The White Eye began to close. The titan began to escape. It was almost out of their reach, no matter what fire and fury they poured its way. Then, it stopped. It twisted in midair and a massive burst of energy poured forth from its eyes, beak, and suckers. Thick black smoke belched out in every direction. Writhing and twisting, it turned its fury on a target: Chen Linlin, better known as Evil Eye. A tentacle moved to crash down on her unconscious form in a final, spiteful attack.

They would not simply let it happen, however. Abdel mobilized his Skuggvars. As with his final flash, they could serve as batteries for Ingrid to channel even MORE and FASTER. “Ingrid, use them!” and in turn, he used electromagnetism to help her contain the volatile energy. The Eskandr nodded as she felt a helpful grasp outside her experience: the power of a Cataclysm but at the same speed of a fireball.

The massive limb detonated the ground beneath it as Mountain Spring dashed to grab his unconscious comrade, determined not to lose another one under his watch. Everything in the monstrosity’s path was eliminated from reality but Linlin was not among its victims. The combined efforts of the two remaining dragons, Stormcloud, and Mountain Spring proved just enough to delay its journey and skirt her away to safety.

Then, Ingrid struck, empowered by Trypano, Abdel, and his skuggvars, and the heavenly eyelid that had stopped closing began again. Knowing he had limited options, Vel eviscerated the very ground around him, and the air in every direction he could manage. Winds died, fissures formed, and great thunderclaps echoed as he annihilated the matter with binding and translated it directly into energy. Stretching a hand out with an almost pained expression, Valerian began to extend a thread-thin tendril of power out from himself. It penetrated the sky and reached the colossal entity: Touch of Fury.

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Betrayer of Humanity

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He was not the only one: they hammered away with all that they had, pouring destruction into the gap, but the sliver of perfect whiteness narrowed further still. Then, the Traveler rocketed forward, accompanied by a colossal surge of energy. The eyelid slowed. Then, it grated to a stop. Dozens of attacks poured through and a tentacle broke apart, its pieces plunging to the ground, crushing palaces and mountaintops. The puny beings below were forced to flee. The Traveler’s sheer will seemed to be the only thing holding the great eye open.

Then, she wavered.

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♫

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She fell from the sky, a hole clean through her centre, and the Progenitor floated behind her in all of his pitch black glory, her blood hissing and boiling away from his hand.

Then, rushing his way came a copper streak. A hulking figure rushed past them all - past Jocasta, floating in the air, past the ronin Seki, maintaining his height with the help of others, and past the two dragons: Wu Long and Wu Xiang, father and daughter. It was Sleeping Carp.

He looked to the ronin who had been his enemy mere minutes ago. "Lend me your weapon!" he bellowed by way of entreaty. "Lend me your strength and I can end him and his evil." Time itself seemed to swirl around him, running fast and slow in eddies.

Seki turned to the other sanguinaire, with a look of surprise. "On your honor, fellow countryman, end your own existence after the deed is done. This is the price. Echiran dictates a life must be given for a life to be taken. as he unclipped the sheath of the blade from his hilt, and held it out towards the running black guard.

The Progenitor's brother rushed past, accepting the blade and the deal and leapt into the sky. "Brother!" he roared. "Even for you, this is a new low!" He brought the legendary sword down.

He scowled. "You can't fight them, foolish little brother." He shook his head as another swing missed. "And now, I see, you have brought me a sword, just as planned." He reached out with kinetic magic. He snapped Sleeping Carp's neck and the hulking figure slumped.

Then, it smiled, and it was a huge, wicked, mocking smile. Sleeping Carp laughed. "Hahaha! She was right. You are predictable!" he crowed, broken neck and all. The illusion faded. Sleeping Carp appeared beside him.

It took one slice. The Progenitor's head was separated from his body. Sleeping Carp smiled faintly. He released a breath. Then, both faded from existence. The sword tumbled back down to the ground.

Seki nodded at his countryman, as he walked to collect the blade that had vanquished the heart of darkness, and the honourable bloodsucker who had wielded it when it mattered most. The best of his kind was gone, and he would continue his fight.

Further hurt poured in at the wounded titan. Yet, for all that this had appeared to be a victory, for all that many people had stood together this day and fended off an apocalypse, it would be a bitter one. The eye was nearly closed and the beast yet lived.

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The Cavalry Arrives || ♫

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Then, from seemingly out of nowhere, a second eye opened. Only, this one was a portal. From it poured a dozen or more strange flying contraptions. Some had wings that swirled and moved. Some zipped across the sky on trails of blue fire with absurd levels of speed.

Missiles armed; target locked. "Let's light this fucker up, boys!" The tentacles lashed and thrashed and, from the strange craft came fifty-four Alpha-Seventeen Titan Killer missiles. Parachutes deployed from others and, from them, loudspeakers: sirrahi inventions. "Kinetic and arcane shields! Use your magic, raise your shields! Explosives incoming!"

Those who weren't too dumbfounded to react listened to the instructions. Kinetic shields and arcane ones went up. Then, the missiles struck home. The eye rippled. The beast let out a high, pealing screech. Great seething chunks of it fell from the sky, shaking the very ground that people stood on. Most were able to dodge. Some were not. Then, the eye was gone. The monster was slain.

Former enemies stood together on a battlefield even as a mysterious new ally turned about and headed back through the portal they had come from. "Well done, monkeys!" they called through their speaker systems. "'Til next time!" Then, the anomaly closed behind them.

In its wake was left exhaustion, best expressed, in many regards, by Valerian. Remi. Leclere. Perhaps from the shockwave, perhaps from shock, Vel had fallen on his ass, where he now sat. Feeling dead tired, he stared up at the sky, unable to even process half of what had just happened. "I...." He frowned. "I have so many questions...and I'm not sure if I want answers to any of them."

Chicken appeared above him. "Well, if you ever change your mind," a tall lean young man in a parka offered, "you can always ask." He sat down beside Vel, grinning, and let out a sigh.

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The Aftermath || ♫

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The next ten minutes were a maelstrom of activity as various actors raced out to try to find and secure samples of the fallen goliath. Others gathered about a being whom a handful recognized as the Ice King, trying to glean what knowledge they could from him, searing for answers that might help explain the new and terrifying world they now found themselves thrown into.

Still others searched for the Traveler, Maura first of all, hoping that humanity’s saviour had not been slain by the progenitor’s treacher and, if she yet lived, looking to heal her. They found that she was not so easy to do away with unless killed in one fell stroke. What was spoken between them - in turn Maura, Abdel, and Yalen - remained largely secret, but most made their peace with the protean figure that night in Retan.

Meanwhile, those who had made haste to collect samples found themselves frustratingly stymied. The substance proved lethal to the touch, and only some timely temporal intervention prevented multiple deaths. This was used as a justification by Jocasta to not only contain a small sample of the fallen behemoth, but to destroy the rest. It was simply too valuable dangerous to be allowed to fall into others’ hands. Indeed, the amateurs had barely avoided calamity as it was!

This movement of people and exchange of information, commiserations, and congratulations continued for some time, but wheels had already been set in motion. Yalen had spoken with Smoking Bandit and Captain Zhao in turn, and would be granted permission to retrieve the mysterious Nikanese orb from the evidence room of Wanggang’s central guardian station. Yawen was to accompany him, but she was anxiously searching for Maura first. While the junior White Knight was in no hurry to leave, the same could not be said for Seki, Laughing Squid and Golden Monkey closing in on him with potential aspirations of avenging the fallen Cold Soup. As she was no more, slain in combat, it was Smoking Bandit who presented Niallus with the blade he had turned against his erstwhile allies for. Evil Eye, once healed, made her way quickly to the Wei family and, in particular, to Yong. Yin had been reunited with Captain Zhu Kai and, perhaps it was the sheer relief of the moment. Perhaps it had been brewing for some time. Whatever it had been, they disappeared, hand-in-hand behind one of the few remaining trees, and embraced each other.

Conspicuous by their absence, however, were Wu Long, Wu Xiang (better known as Lucky Dragon), Xiulan, Hui (a man known by many names), and the Twin Emperors. While an entire wing of the palace had been devastated, much of it yet stood.

In the scramble, and with the assistance of some illusory magics, their flight there went virtually unnoticed. That Wu Long had been gravely wounded as the pieces of the titan rained down upon Sipenta’s defenders was known by many. He had shielded his daughter - estranged though they had been for a century before this. A strange black malady was spreading through the Exemplar and it had proven unstoppable. Many wondered; few knew.

Then, Laughing Squid went to work and, momentarily, concerns for those who had disappeared into the palace were put aside, much as they were among the most essential actors in the entire process. Smoking Bandit, Evil Eye, Golden Monkey, and a dozen other binders of various stripes joined him and, weary and cautious, Red Menders began to stream in, eyes wide at the devastation, glances reverent and wary at the Black Guard and the foreigners.

Piece by piece, the palace grounds began to reassemble themselves under the moonlight. Incinerated forests were regrown. Craters and scars upon the land were filled. Ruins returned to functional state. Retan would be as it had always been - as it must always remain: a land of peace, harmony, and prosperity. None would be allowed to lay eyes upon the imperfections that they knew existed. It was, simply, the Retanese way of doing things, and ten foreign students had decided, on one bloody night, that it should not change, at least not more than superficially. If subsequent events had altered that, it would only become evident in the coming months and years.

The rebuilding process took nearly some two hours and, during that time, Ingrid and Valerian were called aside. For what, the others were uncertain, but both likely had an inkling long before they stepped into the hallowed halls of the Crimson Chamber and were led down a long staircase into a darkened room below.

Meanwhile, Stormcloud, who had ducked into the palace for some minutes, emerged to share the ill tidings with her allies: Wu Long had passed from the Knower’s strange malady. She was an awkward speaker at the best of times and this instance seemed no different from any other. Perhaps that was why she had been selected to deliver the news, or perhaps she had volunteered. It was unknown. Regardless, the Exemplar was no more, and his daughter, known as Lucky Dragon, had entered the extended period of solitary mourning appropriate for such an occurrence. It was expected that, following her observance, she would re-enter active service, but her privacy was to be treated with the utmost respect and deference by others.

It was on this rather dark note that the desperately joyous scenes outside the Imperial Palace came to a close and the exhaustion that they surely all felt once again took hold in earnest. Some lay on the ground, sleeping where they could. Others crowded under the pavilions, making use of furniture. Some could not sleep anyhow.

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Anointing || ♫ || ♫

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Ingrid Penderson and Valerian. Remi. Leclere. emerged from the palace’s great rotunda at the head of the other eight visitors from afar. They were clothed in long ceremonial robes - gold and deep red, embroidered with the sigils of their houses or else personal symbols. Gongs and drums sounded across the restored gardens of the Twin Emperors of Retan, who sat, triumphant, upon twin thrones in the great plaza behind.

The first glow of the sun appeared upon the horizon, though it had not yet broken that plane, and the air buzzed with music, sound, and energy. At this early hour, the inner circle of the imperial court had been gathered and the Emperors’ wives and concubines took their places in a semicircle about the rulers. Last to emerge was Jiang Xiulan. Gone was the girlish manner, the irreverent quips, and the eternally unkempt hair. Ensconced behind a shield of makeup, ceremony, and fine silks, she strode into the center of the clearing, radiant. She pivoted on her heel, bowed deeply before her husband and his brother, and took her seat at Ten-Jiu’s right hand. The other women barely repressed their scowls and murmurs and, for a moment, Maura could have been certain that Xiulan looked at her and flashed the faintest ghost of a smile.

The Black Guard entered: the six that they knew - Laughing Squid, Golden Monkey, Stormcloud, Evil Eye, Smoking Bandit, Mountain Spring - and four new faces. Among these was the tall white-haired figure of Brother Ash, and he walked towards the head, second only to the mighty Laughing Squid. They took their places in two exalted rows to either side of the emperors, bowing before turning to face what came next.

They stood there as the horizon burgeoned in brightness. The hundred banners of the Retanese Empire flapped in the brisk early morning wind. The drums went silent and a final gong echoed across the clearing, its sound subtly enhanced through sonic magics. “在这一天，我们向来自远方的勇敢英雄致敬。” (On this day, we honour the brave heroes who came here from distant lands,) proclaimed Ten-Jiu, rising. His brother rose alongside him. “他们不必这样做，但他们为我们的国家而战，确保正义得到伸张，确保人民免受巨大邪恶的侵害。” (They did not have to, but they fought for our country, to ensure that justice was served and its people remained safe from a great evil,) Ten-Re concluded. He and his brother bowed in the direction of their visitors.

Then, the drums sounded twice more, thunderously. Other instruments that most of the visitors did not properly recognize played. One by one, the heroes of the day were called to stand before the Emperors, surrounded by applause. Each received the personal thanks of the twins and an item given in reward for their service.

Finally, it was the turn of Ingrid and Valerian. Evil Eye and Golden Monkey detached themselves from the ceremonial guard to stand behind and to the left of each, respectively. The drums settled into a solemn march. The horizon blazed with light and birds chirped and tittered in the trees. A small, screened pavilion took shape behind Ten-Re and Ten-Jiu, its ornate walls wood, paper, and something energetic enough to fool the prying senses of virtually anyone.

Guided by their sponsors, the pair strode up a crimson carpet to be greeted and embraced by the emperors. The drums rose in intensity. The horns blared. The gongs sounded. They were led into the small pavilion for the most sacred and secretive part of the ceremony. There, behind the screens of paper, wood, energy, and sound, they were inducted for their meritorious service as members of the Crimson Order of the Balance.

What took place within that shielded space, only they could say, but when they emerged, they did so as silhouettes, the sun cresting the horizon behind them. Evil Eye and Golden Monkey took a step back and bowed before them. The two newest members of the order returned the gesture and it was complete: all of the ceremony, all of the intrigue, the danger, the betrayal, the conundrums - all of it. This very evening, after being feted and feasted some more, the ten students and Jocasta would return to Ersand’Enise through portals of the Black Guard’s conjuring. That, then, would be it: their happy ending. All was as it was meant to be. Retan was saved. A great evil had been defeated. All was well.

… but was it?

Fin.

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