Figuring the temporary barmaid would need to apply finishing touches to her employment, Rilolia moved on outside and waited for Yazulayne to do the same, hopefully still retaining her uniform; the shock she could apply to confused castle guards would be invaluable.

Leaning on the foremost walls of the bar just beside the door, Rilolia had begun to gather her thoughts and concerns for the journey, but moreso the destination. With a titanic robot at her disposal, the prospect of crashing a castle was at the very least sane. Without Dead Gear, it was nothing more than a hopeful dream. What’s worse, it had become recently apparent that unlike Yazulayne, her ‘condition’ would elicit much less mercy if she were to be caught… and that was only if she didn’t die beforehand.

Rubbing her temples, she tried to calm the stressing headache that had begun to form, returning -as best she could- to a less turbulent mindset.

Unfortunately, the temporary barmaid stepped out of the bar in a non barmaid fashion. Not all hope was lost however, as Yazu was actually able to buy the shocking uniform; the fact of just mentioning the annoying self-proclaimed captain’s name and some words along the lines of "on his behalf" were enough to convince the owner while still retaining her small paycheck. This, and the fact of the promising trip in the air put her mood pretty high even as she was the last person of the group leaving the bar.

Thus, it wasn't surprising that, with her mood and humming towards the sky coupled with the vampire girls non-existent aura, Yazu didn't even notice her as she stepped out.

Lifting from the lean, Rilolia briskly followed up beside Yazu, unchanged by her positive atmosphere. Though her quick internal joke of utilizing a battling barmaid was just that -a joke, it was still slightly uplifting to see the girl had brought it with her. Cliche a consideration as it was, Rilolia truly did see it being used effectively once they reached their destination.

“Didn’t want to give up the dress?” Rilolia laughed, “Please tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking, and we can use it somehow.” Rilolia mimicked a person in thought jokingly, putting a hand to her chin and pondering at the sky for a short second. Rilolia’s tone became a bit more serious, though, as she brought up the topic of the siege.

“So, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you this, but how exactly are you qualified at fighting castle guards? Like, what do you do?”

"Eh?" Turning around by the surprising assault of her friend, Yazulayne shortly looked for at the dress she carried. "Is she talking about this?" Before finally paying real attention to the vampire. "Hey Rilolia! Considering we think a lot, that might be quite possible! We can't tell though. But the annoying self-proclaimed captain paid for it anyways, that alone makes it worth! He didn't even took a sip from what we served him, after having gone through all that trouble!" Pouting a bit she quickly changed to her sun-like attire but was cut off by a rather serious question.

"How we fight them...? Well, first we ask them politely if they would free the prisoner and if they refuse we just beat them up! ... but that's not quite the right answer we suppose? Urgh, why is this bothering us so much?! Alright, we will show you..." Checking her surroundings the cursed elf made sure that no one was watching them before activating her cursed magic, opening the scar on her face. As the few, but still countless eyes, fixated on the only other person in the vicinity, Yazulayne simply formed a spear made out of that dark mass. "We could throw that or..." the spear changed form to a mallet, adding more of the corruption onto it made it even grow in size. The hammer was definitely bigger than something a grown up heavy armored warrior would wield but not big enough to attract too much attention. "This? If needed we could also form some sort of minion, problem is they run wild against anything so we rather refrain from that..." Deciding she showed enough off she retracted her small arsenal back into her scar, closing it in the process. Looking up in the sky the elf now concluded. "We heard if you see a shooting star you could make a wish come true!"

Rilolia recoiled as Yazulayne revealed her abilities without any severe reluctance, utterly impressed and slightly averse to her hidden skill. The adorable elf didn’t seem like the type to unleash such a grim power, especially considering her scarred face. It certainly seemed potent, that was for sure, but Rilolia couldn’t help but feel it to be quite jarring. Before she could even make a remark on it, though, Yazulayne diverged from the topic. Looking up to the sky, Rilolia found herself guided by Yazu’s innocent and strangely off-topic reflection.

“In Talze Utera, hopeful things like that don’t tend to be expressed. I wouldn’t truly know. But it certainly would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

The cursed elf didn't really expect that Rilolia would actually comment on her random nonsense; the only reason she said such things was for her own well-being after all. Still, it made her somewhat happy and she asked in a curious voice a, maybe bold, question. "What would you wish for?"

“Hm,” Rilolia considered for a moment, “Probably something like elimination of prejudice in the world. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t be readying to do something as crazy as this.” Rilolia left it at that for just a little while longer, and then chuckled after shrugging. “Then again, if the wish came true I’d probably have never met you. Don’t exactly have that many… friends,” Rilolia hesitated on the last word, unsure of if Yazulayne saw eye to eye.

"Elimination of prejudice? This sounds grant, we shouldn't tell her about our selfish wish." Thinking out loud, as usual.

"Friends? We used to have friends too, but they only ended up hurting us, so we stopped making friends." Completely ignorant towards the vampires sentimental words.

“O-oh…” Rilolia responded dejectedly, “I suppose that makes sense.” Rilolia scratched the back of her head, as if to appear oblivious to Yazulayne’s own perceptive shortcomings. Though, she remained dutifully fixated on the elf’s unbound speech.

“And, what would your wish be then?” she asked, almost with an accusatory tone.

“Killing the Jade Eyed Witch.” Not daring to call her direct name, the elf’s wish was indeed a selfish and simple one.

It could have been misfortunate to someone who knew otherwise, that Rilolia’s memory of the individual who had sent her to Yazulayne had begun to slip quite quickly. The vampiress hadn’t even reflected on her for quite some time, days even, and so her features were faded in her recollection, much less her face. Ignorant, Rilolia simply shrugged and passively resolved it was no one she’d ever know.

“I’m left to assume this witch did something to you, then?” Rilolia pressed.

"She was the one who cursed us. Curses are usually lifted with the death of the caster." Stating the obvious, Yazulayne couldn't believe the conversation turned out like this again but she had a hard time holding herself back this time."I had a family, a home, education, friends and all these things too..." She took a few steps back as her head started to hurt a little.

It was clear she was becoming distressed, so Rilolia stopped from asking more questions.

“I ditched my family, really. If it weren’t for that I’d be living pretty fine as the daughter of some fairly wealthy individuals. I don’t have much to go back to, after this is all over,” Rilolia began, “so since you’ve taken the time and risks to help me, it’s only fitting I help grant your wish after it’s all over. How does that sound?”

"You are going to help us kill her? Really?!" More happy than she should actually be she continued to describe the Witch."Her name is spelled Y.o.u.n. She has jade green eyes, hence her title. She has long blonde hair and always carries a mischievous grin on her face. She also carries a big witch hat thing on her hat...and is a vampire! We tried fighting her once but got utterly crushed." Usually thinking so much about Youn put the cursed elf in a even worse mood, but the fact about this vampire girl helping her out filled Yazu with delight.

“Wait,” Rilolia almost wanted to stop Yazu mid-sentence, but with each descriptor being listed off, she became more and more stunned. Recalling what she could, the one thing that stood out the most was this Youn’s status as a vampire witch. That gave it away. Rilolia gave a look of guilt, as if she had some sort of hand in Yazu’s fate, and it dawned on her then that this witch might have sent her Yazulayne’s way simply to screw with her.

“I-I think I know who you’re talking about…” Rilolia struggled to say, “she sent me to you, in fact.”

"She did? Well, she always has ulterior motives, we mean, she even saved us once and helped us fake our death." Forming a smile Yazu proceeded. "And with- uh, nothing... Idiot, why do we wanted to say that? This is getting awkward..." Of course, talking your important thoughts out loud wasn't really a good trait to have.

Yazulayne’s speech patterns were beginning to be lost on Rilolia, so she figured it’d be best to let it go and discuss the next reckless adventure after they’d completed this one.

“We can figure it out later. For now let’s keep focused on busting out my friend.”

Yazu nodded. ”That isn’t gonna be any prob-” As they kept walking towards the landing site, another interesting person came into the cursed elf’s sight range: the woman with wolf ears and tails. Yazulayne was already interested in that person the first time she saw it, and now was her chance to actually assault her! In a nearly impolite fashion she nodded towards Rilolia. ”We will talk later.” Before making haste towards her new target to assault.

---

Moko stretched lazily, her legs becoming tired at the prospect of even more walking around, even if it was to reach something rather interesting. She was not use to so much walking given she was almost always on a ship the repeated and simple act of walking tired her joints somewhat. “You know what would have made this better? If I have a minotaur to ride on the back of. Once seen a vampire child do that, looked like fun…” She muttered the story in the hopes that someone would pick up on it and make the travel time a little less annoying.

Not exactly someone to ease her travel time, but definitely company, the cursed elf came closer and closer, leaving Rilolia behind; as Yazu had never even heard of such a being as Moko before. Making sure she was behind Moko's shoulder, to avoidng her shadow, she didn't hesitate to grab the wolf hybrids tail with and pull gentle, but firm, on it!

“Ya-ow!” Moko exclaimed as her tail was yanked on, her own hand reaching back to try and snatch it away from whatever had ahold of it. “Hey, what is the big idea pulling on my tail suddenly like that?” The wolf women gave off a low pitched growl as a warning not to do it again…

However, Yazu's partnership with the wolf's tail was not fated for long. Not intimidated by the wolf's growl the elf asked in a slightly bizarre voice. "So, it is real? We mean, the ears and the tail!"

“Eh? Of course they are, they are apart of me, just like your ears” With a small sigh she soon relaxed and reached up to brush back her hair, her ears followed but soon perked back up as always.

With a nearly childish innocence she continued asking. "We wonder, did you get cursed as well? And does her tail waggle when she gets excited? Should we ask?"

“You talk strangely kid…” She started to walk away, though started to talk, along with moving her hand to motion the elf along with her. “No, not really. Just some… Overly excited humans. Like how there are werewolves, vampires and so on, there are beings like me. More genetic than a curse.”

Following Moko's motion, the cursed elf followed. "We see. Werewolves exist too? We never left Illiserev, before so all we got to see was a vampire and a witch!" Shortly setting her thought towards Youn put her into a slightly worse mood, but nothing too worse to go random yet.

“Yep… Though what about you? Umm… You two? You talk as if you are two people, not to mention you said you were cursed.” She was wondering, and she feared little.. still creepy though.

"Us? We are many; thanks to a curse. Oh, and you can call us Yazulayne!" She gave a rather simple and short answer, hoping it would suffice.

“You can call me Moko. There is only one of me heh. So, what intrest do you have in the ships anyway?”

"Ships?" She started to smile once again. "Err, none at all...except...we wonder if ships on sea can burn, they are actually surrounded by water after all, right?"

“Oh yeah. I have seen it, even continued burning sometimes under water. Mostly due to magic though” She tried to not react to the creepy…

"Under water?" Her eyes started to shine a bit. "We wonder if we could test it on the ship we came with, but that annoying self-proclaimed captain would most likely nag about it~"

“Most likely. I would not want my ship to fall to that fate. it is my home after all heh” She smiled and rubbed the back of her head.

"So you can even call a place like a ship your home, huh?" she simply replied with a sad undertone while taking another look into the sky..

“Whats the matter?” Moko was a little confused by that. did it mean she did not have one? A real shame, though likely there were few people willing to take in a cursed.

Yazulayne easily confirmed Moko's guess. "Having a place that one can always return to and is their home, sometimes we wish for such place too." A bit more motivated she continued. "But we are able to make a lot of people happy by simply wandering around Illiserev and helping those in need! ...though this time it is outside the country."

Moko nodded, her hand one again brushing the top of her head absentmindedly “True, helping people is good. but if you are to do that, then you should remember that home is not always a place you can return to, sometimes you take it with you.”

"Like a ship?" Tilting her head, she looked rather confused.

“Kinda… More like, your home is where you make it. And you can feel at home anywhere.”

"No, you can't." Putting more strength than usual in her voice to underline her statement.

“You can believe that if you wish. Though once you have been shipwrecked and alone, it becomes a very nice concept to keep ahold of”
"Yes, we keep believing that. After all, we are alone since a long time and feel nowhere home." With the conversation going into a rather direction, Yazu's face also became a bit darker. If there was anything she did not like to talk about it was those kind of things.

“Ah… umm” Moko’s tail and ears lowered for a moment, having clearly made the girl upset. however they perked back up after thinking of a good way to pass the time. “Hey, how about I tell you all the cool and awesome tales of me and my airship? I bet you will love em”

A bit less curious and cheered up than Moko might have expected, Yazu agreed. "Sure." Of course, telling stories to someone who can't keep silent was a hard task to do, but something that Moko had to bear with now... .

Horace could feel his ears pop. Looking above had shown him as to why that was.

High above were the storm clouds that one only saw on the worst of nights simply hovering above the pit that the witch had created with their escape, and in the middle stood -- or rather flew his niece. He had seen her, still in the room far below, but had been so preoccupied with the other monster which had stood before them to notice her escape, so why was she coming down with such a vicious- Wait, Horace thought, eyeing suspiciously the vortex above him. That-that was magic; elemental magic which Riley had been incapable of understanding at this point. The meaning to all this was simply lost on him, so all he could do was climb. Unfortunately, the rate at which he could do so no where matched Fion's velocity who had already created a great distance between them. Whatever it was that was happening... it seemed the boy would have to handle it alone.

~

The djinn continued his own ascent, not acknowledging of the pressure system, or the intense magical energies that held above. His passenger, on the other hand, was all too aware. He ushered it to move faster, and faster, but was only met with the summon's scolding resistance. "Your rather stubborn for something I've summoned," he pouted with arms crossed. The fire spirit simply chuckled in response, knowing full well that this man wasn't his master.

~

Cygna watched the ensuing scene from far above. The man who's very soul now inhabited her daughter's body was reeking torment on the hindrance of a boy from before. This was exactly what she had wanted, yet, she was still not satisfied. Why was it that she had gotten the progenitor of destruction that she had desired and still be disappointed with the result? She shrugged it off, not wanting to double-think herself and decide she had indeed made the wrong decision.

~

Damn it all to the nine hells! He wasn't climbing fast enough. He had the strength, and the talentium, yet he couldn't move fast enough. The boy was being made short work of by his kin and -- with magics outside her reach, no less -- and he was powerless as to do nothing but climb and hope Fion would still be alive by the time he reached him.

Horace only had one last push though, and then he would be almost there.

~

He had arrive at the edge of the crater; companion and savior still well in tow. He had awoken with some great confusion, yet he still lived with nary a scratch to show for it. The dumb luck that seemed to follow him in life was absolutely amazing.

He could still see the storm, now localized on the other side of the pit. He could see little, yet the spirit still shouted, "There! There be my leetle weetch lady!" And he would have left to join had the man not forced him to stay with a minor binding spell (when had he learned that?).

The clouds began to clear, and all he could see was Fion, and... her.

~

Horace had finally made it over the pit's edge and yelped triumphantly as he collapsed on the ground. Given his bleeding and intense muscle fatigue, he felt he could collapse. Not a good thing.

Riley and Fion were no where in site; the only image was of that witch perched high above on her bird and the earthen mound that lay in front of him. "Witch," he called out as he regained his composure. "Where are they? Where did Riley and Fion go?" He could feel his breath go slightly ragged with the exertion this speech was taking from him. "You may wish to check there-" she pointed at the mound "-for your answer and a rather nasty surprise at that." Horace walked over to where she had indicated and readied his axe in a position that made it look like he was chopping lumber. With one swing he chopped the top off to find a black molten goo and a small pile of dead nasties... Riley's, if he wasn't mistaken. Sticking out among the dead cabal, was Fion, who was in a bad from whatever torture he had just been put through.

~

He couldn't believe it. That had been his body, his, doing all those nasty things; displaying feats of magic that he had never dreamed of being able to perform. Yet, the evidence lay bare before his eyes, and was left with a sickening nausea. Why? Why had she done those things to Fion of all people? He was an ass, sure, but to trap him with such a combination of familiar and unfamiliar magics was retching. He found himself paralyzed, and unable to help. Were it not for his uncle's intervention, Fion surely would have died, and it would be all because of her.

We're going to make it… Those were Horace's only thoughts. He had found Fion a disheveled heap within the mound that the witch had so generously pointed him to, but had found absolutely no sign of niece. The boy was unconscious and was showing no signs of coming to soon. Horace was dragging him along, slowly bleeding out from his wound suffered at the prodding of that specter's saber.

We-we're going to- His mind was becoming cloudy -- light -- and nary a coherent sentence could be formed. He collapsed, toppling over the boy he had been carrying for a little over an hour with his gaze centered sky bound. Above circled the witch, and with this sight formed an idea within the man's head: a vulture who hovered over a fresh kill awaiting the carrion. While the feeling of doubt that the witch ate actual bugs came with this idea, the feeling that they were being used more of a simple lure hit him. And the only target he could think of was: "Riley…"

~

The djinn was being belligerent; it was following, but against its will and as far away from the man as possible. The man had tried his magic to try and call forth some more cooperative assistance, but what was proving as a surprise was his difficulty with drawing from a such a limited reserve of mana. It shouldn't have -- he knew that the male body was a very weak conduit for magic in the first place -- but it was perhaps the shock that this wasn't some trans-metamorphosis that he was going through; this was the actual body that her soul was bound to.

He had thought of approaching his uncle and friend when first spotting the hobbling shapes from the other side of the crater, but was left with the impression that his new appearance would do more than startle them after seeing what she had been able to do with his old body.
The time spent deliberating on this, arguing with his unwilling companion, and the new sensations of trying to track a bleeding man through a twisting wood after circling an already large crater had already left the man lost and endlessly turned around.

"Where is we?" Questioned the djinn as it moved in closer to man's proximity. "I... don't exactly know," admitted the man. The djinn raised a brow at this. "So, we's is lost, yes?" The silence that came from the man confirmed the near-corporeal being's suspicions, but let it drop due to the rising tension in the air. "Do's you feels it too, seely man?" He took a baited breath before answering. "Mana," and of a type that he had only felt come from one being, although that boy's reasons for being out here were lost on the man. Not that it mattered, as he began rushing past the brush and brambles and ignoring any minor cuts and scratches he received before bursting into a clearing. "Araki!" he called through a hoarse, emotion-filled voice.

For once since a very long time, Araki was glad to see the dawn and sunrise. A shaky sigh escaped as the first rays of dawn began to chase the night out and when he surveyed his surroundings again. Unpleasant didn’t even begin to describe the night before, and frankly Araki felt the urge to run, run away from Cykes even more intensely now. The familiar sensation, whatever it was, had only grown stronger as the night had dragged on. He had found himself staring through the forest in the direction of Cykes unable to sleep, only to frown as an unsettling feeling gathered in the pits of his stomach. He couldn’t be sure, but the suspicion that things would not be good when he returned to Cykes was completely unshakeable.

If he closed his eyes and tried to focus he could still just barely feel the tug and call that had kept him awake. The two were so faint and ephemeral that it was impossible to tell anything other than they existed, but it was enough to set the hybrid on edge. With a displeased growl, Araki swung himself off tree that had sheltered him for the night. The sun was still creeping over the horizon and the air was just a tad chilly, enough that his breath fogged up for just a moment when he exhaled. His landing was far from subtle and the forest around him came alive; birds flying away in a panic and the underbrush was filled with the sounds scurrying critters. He paused only to grab out a chunk of dried meat from his bag before he took off, racing through the forests.

Perhaps unconsciously, or maybe just by some coincidence of pathing, but by the time Araki came to a full stop within the clearing he could most certainly feel the remnants of the magic that had been used nearby. It was practically non-existent by now, but he was wreathed in an aura of his own magical energy, and the reactions were quite noticeable. As curious as he was to find out what sort of magic had been used nearby, he had something else to be concerned with at the moment. Whoever was crashing through the trees towards him certainly wasn’t trying to approach with any manner of stealth and the direction also meant it was unlikely to be from Cykes, so he could wait.

Araki could safely say that he really hadn’t expected some random stranger to run out from the treeline, alongside a djinn, screaming his name. He glanced between the two individuals before he slowly brought his hands up, curling them into fists. “Who are you? How do you know me?” The fact that this stranger knew his name was concerning, perhaps equally as concerning as the djinn that apparently followed him.

Fion screamed. Pain ran through his entire body as he felt the black forms sink their teeth into him, and he was unable to even move enough to try and shake them off. He howled out in rage, shoving mana down his right arm and through the sword he held in his hand to try to conjure something, anything that would repel these monsters and break him free, but the black creatures almost seemed to sense the mana flowing through his arm and immediately shifted their focus to it. Every single monster began to gnaw on his right arm, and Fion began to feel the pain overwhelm him as he began to be unable to feel his arm anymore. Gritting his teeth, he shoved even more mana through what remained of his arm and managed to conjure wind blades swirling around him, slicing up the creatures attacking his arm.

But in his pain-stricken state, Fion had lacked the control to ensure that his own spell wouldn't harm him, As a result, his own wind spell sliced off his right arm completely at the shoulder. Numb with shock, Fion could only stand, imprisoned in the mound as his vision began to black out.

___

Fion stood on a white plain that stretched for as far as he could see. A black sky loomed above, darker than any night that he'd seen before. Looking down at his shoulder, he frowned upon seeing that his right arm truly was gone. So that was it, then. He had chopped off his own arm like a fool. But looking forward, he realized that there were bigger problems at hand. Namely, the little girl that had been appearing in his recent dreams was standing right in front of him. At this point, Fion was rather unsurprised that the bloody girl had shown up in what was probably an unconscious delusion again. Sighing, he decided he might as well pass the time until he woke up by speaking to the figure.

"So...what do you want?"

It was a bit unusual to be on a vessel and not be in charge, but for Chad, it was a bit liberating in a way. Without anything to have to look after and a vast blue sky and deep blue ocean beneath, the voyage was actually quite relaxing if he ignored Yazu’s antics aboard the ship.

Leaning on the side of a rusted bit of railing, the merchant captain sipped from a small glass of scotch. There were only a few clouds in the distance, breaking over the horizon where blue met blue. Puffs of uneven black steam rose over the jury-rigged airship. Moko no doubt was working the hired engineer to his limits in keeping the engine running. With the help of the obnoxiously loud man from the Harbor Company, Chad and Moko had put together a team to repair and crew the derelict ship in record time.

Surprisingly enough, the 150 meter long flying vessel was quite an accommodating ship, with a large mess hall, sightseeing module, and state rooms that in its heyday would have been quite luxurious. None of the fancy stately upholstery remained, but some decent furnishings were acquired that would tide them over for the trip. With the engine running to a respectable specification, it would be a less than a day until they reached Astopol… and hell. Chad wished the voyage would take a little bit longer.

As Chad sipped his beloved vintage scotch above deck, Lyra was in the mess hall, attempting to do what she did best. She was having a mighty hard time of reading, however, for several of the portholes in the room were missing their glass panes. The vortex of violent wind this created was unsuitable for reading, however comfortable the chairs and couches were in the room. Unfortunately for Lyra, there was no other place for her to be; anywhere aft of the mess hall, black soot and steam from the misfiring engines filled the rooms with smoke and cancer; the state rooms’ lighting had failed, so it was only really useful for sleep; and forward of the airship was even windier than this room with all the holes in the hull. For perhaps the first time in her life, Lyra was not a happy camper. Shielding her book from the wind with an awkwardly placed elbow, she turned a page with a frown. At least they would get to do something interesting enough soon enough...

Jet black skies and pearl white earth, so flat that it felt like walking on glass. The horizon was a perfectly straight line, a perfectly unnatural sight to see. It gave off the impression that the background was not 'reality' but simply a painting done by someone with a straight edge and solid color paint. Indeed, in that world, it was impossible to judge distances, impossible to orientate oneself. No end point, no start point, nothing. Just fathomless darkness and light. A lonely place with no stimulus other than your own body.

Yet, as the child recalled past years, she realized that it had changed. There was no ground before. There was no horizon before, regardless of how fake it looked. And she...she did not have a body to accompany her mind until recently.

The girl looked at her hands, clenched them. They were solid now. They could not change in anyway other than natural growth now. How long was it since she had become aware? How long was it that she slept, a mere shadow of what she once was, and could have been? She could faintly remember a natural birth, but even that was faint. Was it imagined? Or something else? All that child knew was that some time ago, she became aware of herself, and of another human that appeared. All she knew was that something was causing her to grow, and that recently, she could faintly remember something else. Her name.

Fion.

And once again, that young man appeared once more, his body this time different. Was it normal for people to only have one arm? Probably not. But then again, was this man even the same being as herself? Then, she noticed something that she hadn't before, in her suspended stated of non-thinking.

She was missing her left arm, her shoulder ending in a stump.

He asked her a question, but she wasn't sure of the answer.

Instead, she looked at his left arm, and slowly, old memories began to flow back. A family by the name of Meyer. A monster that came out of a magical circle. A massacre that somehow passed over herself. A person who took her apart. And then...

Her vision blurred, and white noise rang through her ears incessantly as another change occurred on her body. She grew in every sense. Her hair lengthen, her arms and legs extended, her chest expanded, and soon, she was the same height as the man who asked her that unanswerable question.

In a world where the horizon was endless, a flat world that never curved, Fion asked the man a question in response to his own, in a voice she never used before.

“I am Fion. Who are you?”

Friendly as Rilolia wanted to get with Yazulayne, having her distracted by an unfortunate animal-eared individual did bring a certain tranquility to Rilolia for the time being; orphans in Talze Uterra were one thing, but the way Yazulayne behaved was another. Exhausting might have been a proper term for Yazulayne. But there was more to her stress than teaming up with mentally questionable elf, and as she patted down her coat for something to drink to find them vacant, her stress peaked even higher. She had a headache, visions of Dead Gear falling into the lava, that swordsman's virtual invulnerability, a prison. She needed some air.

Climbing to the upper deck, Rilolia found herself rubbing her head after taking the cap from it. In her internalized storm, she nearly passed Chad by without even a hello, but a cool breeze managed to cool her head off briefly enough for her to notice the man peacefully sipping on some liverous poison. Replacing her cap and straightening out her posture, she sat beside him on the deck and took in a deep breath.

"Ah, Chad, nearly missed you," she greeted, clenching her eyes shut in an attempt to dull her growing headache. Truly she was suffering from would have inevitably come; a lightning strike of doubt and fear. The ache that comes when one is to far in to tell someone else -someone who put in time and effort- that you may want to turn back. She wouldn't say such a thing, of course, but the split in her head was screaming to do so. If a massive God of War could not take down a single man, what nonsense allowed her the chance to do it herself? Now, that swordsman may fortunately fail to show his face during their trip to Astopol, but there was a great feeling Rilolia could not shake.

"Thanks again for helping me out. I really appreciate it," she stated. He'd probably heard enough of it from her though, and she tried to bring up something else. "I don't think I ever asked, but what is it between you and Yazulayne? I sense a bit of hostility."

"With the sole of my boot!"

Moko shouted, her boot coming soon after to slam into the side of the steering wheel, sending the ship into a lean but the pirate soon caught it with both hands and got them on a steady course again, leaving the work crew below to stable themselves, though she trusted them enough to do that, this thing had not kept a stable flying course since it got into the air.

"Hora, hora! That got the thing unstuck. See, smart thinking eh?"

Reza, the little blue fairy flew above Moko and grabbed her ear.

"How was that anything close to thinking?! You just booted the thing!"

"Aye, and it worked right? Hahahah!"

With a sigh Reza settled down onto Moko's head as she was busy keeping the ship on a stable path now, kind of hoping for the wheel to rust itself shut on this course. Mainly because she had no clue how she was going to land in a port with this thing! Though that being said, Moko was not always trying one for action, as she had placed one of her swords within the engine room, just for a little surprise. The next moment she got some calls from below, something about the engine being on fire.

"Then deal with it, or punch some holes in the side and let the smoke out. Honestly"

Flying! They were seriously flying! High up into the air on a piece of trash that run risk breaking down any minute! Yazulayne had never experienced something like this before and thus, she enjoyed it to her fullest. There wasn't even a need to speak, maybe the many Is in her were just enjoying it as much as Yazu did.

Or maybe it was just the adrenaline brought forth with her suicidal behaviour. After all, not every sane being would tie himself with their own magic high-up onto the lookout of a mast on an airship that run in the risk of breaking down any moment. No one else was up here, and honestly, the cursed elf lost sense of time since she found this treasured place, having forgotten about her task and the people around her only wish right now was that the current moment would stretch to an eternity.

As Fion waited for an answer, he watched in interest as the little girl suddenly began to rapidly age until she seemed to be about as old as he was. And then she spoke.

"I am Fion. Who are you?"

Well...he hadn't been expecting that. But would that make this girl some kind of mirror of himself? It seemed to be the only conclusion that made sense. That last time he'd seen her in his dreams, she had both arms, but this time, she was missing her left arm, just as he was missing his right. Damn it, how screwed up were his dreams if he was envisioning a female mirror of himself? There had to be some kind of ridiculous magical explanation for this. It was probably that damned witch's fault, too. Still, he figured he might as well answer.

"Really, now? You know, that's interesting. My name just happens to be Fion too."

He hadn't slept that whole night, but Eldren was still feeling more alive than he ever had been. It was a magnificent feeling, finally letting loose and doing what he wanted. His peaceful, tranquil life was nice, and it had made him feel proud, protecting such a lifestyle, but this, this utter freedom was nice too. Those sibilant whispers in the back of his mind guided him, dark suggestions that only furthered his existing knowledge of the magic of witches. He needed no summonings, but curses, those were things that seemed useful. After all, it would be too much of a shame if that elf-bitch died too easily. He'd have to work on a 'resetting' spell as well, something that undid any mental damage. Killing her once wouldn't be enough to sate him. He'll kill her many times, over and over again until her mind broke, then erase all that mental scarring, just so he could do it again.

How many times? Five times? Twenty times? No, he'll find a curse that allows him to repeat that for a whole lifetime. Only then will the blood debt be paid. Only then would that monster have paid the price for killing the Eldren that once was. For now, he was but a monster, and he would not deny that he was enjoying the experience.

In half a day, he had arrived at the citadel of King Lazaros, Crown Head of Illiserev. In his path, three cities were already under attack by those otherworldly monsters. It was only a demonstration of his power. There would be casualties and grievous injuries, of course, but that was the extent of his actions. It was his own way of showing mercy, when he could be doing much, much more. He hated this kingdom, but hunting down a single person on the continent would take too much time and effort. Better to let every other of those peasants do it for him.

Smiling at the elderly on a gold-and-blue throne, Eldren sat down on the chair that had once belonged to some noble. The noble that one of the pets in his cloak had just eaten whole. He crossed his legs, wondered whether he should use his own name or the name of the girl whose body it belonged, and decided on the later.

After all, it would be helpful to have an 'innocent' body and identity, if he ever wanted to go back to living a normal life. If he ever got satisfied with just doing this much damage to the shitty world that turned him into what he was.

“Well then, gentlemen, I do apologize for my unannounced arrival to this gathering, but alas, I was in quite a rush. You see, I'm a girl with simple needs. I just want to find someone, and if you do, I won't be dismantling your pitiful kingdom anytime in the near future. Of course, I'm sure that you'll be able to gather up a group of warriors strong enough to eventually kill me, but I'm not a fighter. I'm the witch, Riley Thomson, and I will gladly recreate the Talentless Strife.”

He raised his hand and a black summoning circle revolved in it, as a little monster's head broke through.

“I've already begun attacks on three towns, and I can do much more. All I want, at the moment, is to find an elf-girl who talks to herself.”

He closed his hand, crushing that circle and returning that monster from where it came, before waving cheerily, standing up.

“Well, I'll judge whether you've accepted my terms by tomorrow, wouldn't I, Lazaros? I'd love to stay for dinner, but, alas, staying in this fortress would probably decrease my lifespan.”

He wanted to kill more things so badly, but for now, he'll settle for this. Maybe visit the Archipelago later for some senseless destruction.

---

Another bright, sunny, yet mild day in Astopol. On the highest mountain of Astopol was a flowerfield plateau, a soothing, untouched place where butterflies migrated, birds sang, icewater rivers chuckled, and a soft wind blew. Only a single building could be seen on that picturesque place, that of a small, homely chapel. It was a well-kept building, white and gold, a heavenly appearance with a bell tower that stood five floors up. To whom that brass bell chimed to, no one knew. Then again, the ropes for ringing the bell had long since disappeared, leaving it silent, even though it gleamed in the light of day.

From within, the wooden pews of that chapel were delicately engraved with passages and symbols, and the stained glass windows cast rainbow light into the dark interior. A solemn place of worship for the Goddess of Miracles, with a marble stand in the center, holding a beautifully illustrated book, bound with creamy white paper. Yet, it was not a book about the past, nor was it a holy book regarding the actions of the Goddess of Miracles. Instead, it was a book of the present, a personal journal of the High Priestess of Astopol, one that the holy woman had written in for every week of her life. It was almost a calming task for the young girl, but today, things were different.

Today, she sat on one of the pews of that quiet chapel, letting the solitude take in her thoughts instead. Dansila was attacked by the witches, the evidence lying in the summoned monsters that have been spotted that night. Yet there were also reports of two odd rift-beasts, who had 'eaten' both magic and talentium, integrating it into their own bodies, and growing as a result. The knights of Astopol were now asking for her advice on the situation, and she was, once again, feeling the pressure of a nation on her shoulders. Should they invade Talze Utera then, waging war? Even though it had only been twelve years since their last one? Was she the only one who did not want to bring the nation into such a state of emergency again?

Or was that what she was supposed to be like, as the High Priestess of the Goddess of Miracles, She Who Cleanses the Living and Saves the Dead?

“Your Holiness, we must depart to Koestace now, to discuss the matter of the attack on Cykes with Knight Commander Farnor. A carriage is waiting on the mountain road.”

Her thoughts interrupted by the sound of one of the Grand Masters of the Priestess's Guard, the young girl visibly gulped, tried to remind herself that Mirelle Keep, the greatest of Knight Commanders, was her age when she led the knights to victory against the rift-beasts, before asking one question.

“Will High Sage Esprit be present, Sir Savaniel?”

“My apologies, but the High Sage will not be attending, Priestess Cairyn.”

The girl bit her tongue at the thought of that, before taking a big breath once more. She could pretty much SEE her white robes trembling now, and she forced herself still. She had to remind herself that this nervousness was good, because it sharpened her mind. This was a good thing, that she was scared of making a decision. It would prevent her from being rash.

But despite all this, as she stepped towards the exit of the chapel, the High Priestess was reminded of another thing.

Just because being scared was a good thing, didn't mean that being scared FELT good.

Was this how Mirelle felt when she leapt into battle, with only the Sword of Origin by her side?

---

Within the dark miasma of Talze Utera, was the proud establishment of the Witchmother of East, a mansion that looked like it was from a fairy tale. Like a doll house, it was filled with trinkets that had no use other than to look pretty. Stuffed animals, massive chandeliers, frilly curtains, all sorts of pointlessly pretty objects adorned the house. If it wasn't for the fact that this was Talze Utera, one may even say that all these things would have been a grand waste of money. Except in Talze Utera, such things are obtained more often through bartering, stealing, and self-crafting. One good point about that wretched land, if nothing else. It taught self-sufficiency, regardless of how strong you are.

Aiv was standing on a velvet carpet, woven with the shapes of animals and plants. It felt good against his barefeet, but that was all there was to it. He had no words of praise to offer to the craftsmanship and patience it must have taken to create such a work, nor did he particularly care to discern the 'theme' of the doll house, that of a colorful, playful, childish house. Once again, East stood in front of him, still in her casual clothing. The childish witchmother was in a dark brown cloak, and little else. Yet that day, her expression was anything but child-like. She had a solemn facade this time, and despite her lax choice of clothing, she held her staff, a two meter long quarterstaff of bone-white wood. It's surface was engraved with so many symbols that it looked more like a scroll, a tightly bound one. And perhaps it was. Perhaps it was simply white bark from a tree, written on and then rolled into a cylinder.

But that was beside the point.

That weapon was the same as his own, a weapon that held Colored Talentium within it. For her to bring it out, it could only mean one thing.

He narrowed his eyes, just ever so slightly.

“Oh Aiv,” the raven-haired witchmother said, seated on a rather comfy padded chair, shaped like a teddy bear, “I'm sure you've heard of it, but last night, Cykes was attacked by witches, or so they claim. Of course, I have nothing to do with it, but as it stands, we might have invaders intruding into Talze Utera soon.”

Hopping off her chair and stretching backwards, the quarterstaff tipping behind and tapping the carpetted floor, East said, “I'll be meeting up with South, West, and North to discuss what we'll be doing in response to this. I'm sure that West would love to start another fight though, so it'd be very appreciated if you could come along. Just as an independent third-party. A mediator, if you will.”

Aiv thought for a moment, his white hair covering his eyes.

“Of course, my dear, such a favor must be rewarded after we come back, don't you think?”

In that moment, she dropped her staff and closed the distance between the two, her cold, pale hands placed against his cheeks, drawing him in.

Aiv turned away with a jerk of his head, saying coldly, “Let's go, East.”

“Aw, when did I say we'd be walking?”

And she picked up her staff once more, twirling it around like a baton, before slamming it onto the carpet. Green light emanated from the symbols on the staff, and soon the dollhouse began to rumble, something below it moving.

“It would be a pitiful display if we merely 'walked' to the meeting, wouldn't it? I haven't seen my sisters for quite some time, after all.”

“You talk too much.”

“And girls don't like guys who pretend to be cold and silent~”

---

On the deck of a ragtag ship that was floating through the sky, a card drifted through the heavens, onto the deck of the ship. An ace of clubs, the card expanded as it touched a solid surface, rotating until it was the size of a small table. And then, from within the table, a gray haired man arose, bearing yellow eyes, owl earrings, and dressed in a well-tailored suit. His gloved right hand, which he brought over his heart as he bowed to the first person he saw, bore the symbol of the Luna family.

“Greetings,” he said, in a smooth, cultured tone, “Is there a Rilolia Lorchais on board this...airship? I have been sent by the head of the Lorchais household to aid the young mistress in her quest.”

The man's voice caught; he had forgotten. He knew without a doubt that she was him -- that he no longer had her body -- but knowing didn't prove anywhere near as appeances did for other people. How was he going to prove to the once-crystala that he was really who he knew himself to be? How was he going to prove it Horace or even Fion? Would they believe him, after what she had done; had managed to do? Fion lost an arm because of her, and was now likely to die because of her, so what reason did he have to trust a man who claimed to be her?

Perhaps though, appearances wouldn't matter to a ten year old who has changed just as rapidly in form as he has.

"Araki, I-I know you're not going to believe this -- it coming from this... me," he stopped, unsure of how to continue. "But it-It's me, Riley."

There was no reason for Araki to trust the man, but nevertheless he chose to wait for a reply rather than take his leave immediately. With nothing else planned for the day other than furthering the distance from Cykes, this could prove to be an interesting distraction. He'd admit that he was a bit curious as to the circumstances surrounding this stranger. Who was he, what did he want, and if he knew what sort of magic had taken place here? The second question was the most important for Araki at the moment though, and his gaze shifted between the two as he waited for answers.

It was somewhat odd to hear the stranger use his name again, but no more than what followed afterwards. "Huh..." he let out rather bluntly as he stared at "Riley". Araki hadn't seen her since the Ball, so he had no idea what she had been up to. Still, while he was willing to entertain the idea, it hadn't quite been accepted; even if he knew such a change wasn't completely impossible. So...

"Anyway to prove it?" He wasn't sure if s/he could still use magic which would have been the easiest way to confirm her identity to some degree, but there were things that weren't known to many people other than Fion and her.

He smiled. The man was glad that Araki was willing to entertain the idea that he was the witch that he had known since Bakery Town. "Well," he began playfully, "you're ten, despite appearances. We me had met when that beast had attacked the town; defended you when the vampire tried to have you attacked by the Astopolian idiot," the man rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner, "There was- well," he tried to continue, but he felt other memories well up that weren't hers, that... were of this body she was inhabiting. His head felt like spliting when she tried to delve further, but she continued on any way. "We met again slightly after the incident on the volcano, you had... changed, I guess, by then, and it was then that you were enrolled within Cykes' education system... Need I continue?"

If Araki was slightly off put by the playful tone of "Riley" well... it was because he was. It probably wouldn't have been too odd if she had her original body, but with the older man's voice and appearance... it was just unsettling. Despite that though, it did seem like "Riley" was telling the truth and something had happened to her. He didn't pay too much attention to the break in the middle of her explanation, chalking it up to a side effect of whatever had been done to her. Waving his hand as a signal to stop, he shrugged and said, "No, no. Good enough." While he was fairly curious to what had happened to her... him... whatever. Anyways, while what had resulted in such a drastic change would probably be interesting, he figured the explanations could come later since there was probably a more urgent reason for her rushing out of the woods. "So, what's the problem that had you running to me?"

His heart skipped and a grimace replaced the coy smirk that had once been. That's right... He was being stupid, childish! Fion and his uncle were bleeding out and here he was playfully reminiscing with Araki!

"It's Fion and Horace!" he shouted upon realization "I was following them -- trying to find some way to explain myself -- and I lost them! Fion's missing an arm, and my uncle is bleeding out on his own as we speak..." Pity was all he could feel for himself, but he shook himself free of such emotions. "Araki, you're stronger with magic than I am at the moment; do you think you could find them based on their traces of mana?"

He raised an eyebrow, wondering who Horace was, but held his question until "Riley" finished. The eyebrow twitched a bit; make that questions. S/he was going to have a lot of explaining to do after this, not only to him but to the dying pair as well. "Not possible," he muttered quickly at the suggestion as he shook his head, "the magic's too faint." He closed his eyes to think before he sighed and began to stretch; he would probably have to do this the old fashioned way. "Where'd you last see them? It shouldn't be too hard to track down two dy-" He bit his tongue before he could finish that particular sentence; it probably wasn't the best choice of words at the moment. "Wounded," he finished off a bit lamely, scratching the back of his head.

"The crater..." he mumbled before speaking up. "There's some rather recent ruins of a town nearby; it wasn't far from there that I lost there trail. We should hurry," he turned back in the direction from which he came. "Oh, and Araki," he stopped to face the crystala, "Can-can we not bring up, well, this when we find them?" he asked before gesturing to himself. "I... it was technically my body which got them in this mess..." he trailed off sullenly before rushing ahead of the boy, djinn grudgingly in tow despite the words traded between the two.

"Okay then..." He wasn't sure whether it was just him or if "Riley" was implying the events of yesterday had resulted in a town being reduced to rubble, but he really hoped the individuals responsible were long gone if it was the latter. The thought made him hesitate, but only for a moment before he grit his teeth and followed after "Riley". Though he looked at "her" questioningly at the request, Araki simply shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. He still wanted his explanation for what happened, but he wasn't particularly picky about when he got it and he'd wait. "So, no bear?" he asked, curious as to the change in summons "she'd" chosen.

"This... wasn't exactly something I chose to summon, per se. My magic has been limited since my, uh, 'change' into a man and I've only been able to cast spells on instinct," he said conversationally as they quickly made their way through the wood. Best to keep away the panic. "So," she began to counter, "what are you doing so far away from Cykes?"

"Well, that's not too strange I guess." It was worse than what he had gone through in his most recent change, but not incredibly far off. He looked thoughtful for a moment as he ran alongside "her", but the expression quickly changed to surprise at her question. He snorted humorously before unconcernedly muttering, "Oh... I ran away. Planned on heading back to Talze Utera eventually... Actually asked Richard to pass on good bye to you and Fion, but guess I won't be doing it for a while now." Whatever had happened, seemed like enough of a reason for him to stick around for awhile longer. Between the unsettling sensation last night, "Riley's" change, and the information that Fion had somehow lost his arm? Well, things were happening and he wasn't just about to walk away.

The man was angry at Araki. He was just going to leave, without even saying goodbye to their faces? Just up and leave without a word after all- well what little they had gone through together? He was going to voice this seemingly personal affront, but slipped before he could. "Godsda-" Just when he was about to curse, he stopped himself, realizing what it was that had stopped him from the smears on his knees: blood. "Araki, this way; they've got to be this way," he said hurriedly before picking himself up and resuming his pace. A few brief seconds later, and the crumpled forms of their targets could be seen. He wanted to scream out to the two -- he was happy to see them both -- but his voice caught, and his body quaked with hesitation. "Araki, could-could you take care of them please? See if they're still..." he swallowed hard. "Living."

He didn't nearly have as much trouble as "Riley" did with the blood stained ground, coming to a stop almost as easily as the djinn in response to "her" fall. He nodded in agreement and followed up behind her, hopeful the pair were still alive. The blood was still wet so it hadn't been long, but the amount was worrying. When the two came into sight though, Araki didn't even bother to wait for or listen to Riley. "Oh damnit," he muttered, since even untrained as he was he could see the seriousness of the two's injuries.

His magic, a literal aura of green that enveloped him, flowed freely as he took in the pair's condition. Fion looked worse of, as if he had dozens of bites taken off of him, but as far as Araki could see his injuries were just that; they looked worse than they were. Frankly, he was more concerned about the other man who he guessed was Horace. Shoulder wounds were horrible to deal with; easy to have a lot of blood loss from one if someone was unlucky and judging from the trail he'd left behind, yeah Horace had been pretty damn unlucky. "They're alive at the least," he grunted out in reply to "Riley" as he focused on Horace for the moment, pouring most of his magic towards him. Fion got a small shroud of regenerative magic over him to start sealing up the numerous injuries he had, but he'd have to wait till later for a more thorough healing.

Still, all things considered, it didn't take too long for Araki to finish up with Horace. The man's injury had been bad, but it was, in the end, just a flesh wound so the healing process wasn't horribly complex; though regenerating the flesh was a bit tiring. Sighing deeply as he sat back, Araki poked the man's shoulder gingerly before he nodded. "He should be fine now. Can't do anything about his blood loss though." He still hadn't gotten a fine enough handle on his healing magic to fully restore someone's condition, but at least Horace wasn't going to bleed out anymore. "Now..." he muttered as he turned to look at Fion, "what happened to you?" He obviously wasn't going to be getting an answer out of him like this, so with a shake of his head to clear it he got down to work.

The man averted his gaze to the ground with Araki's question. He knew the answer all too well; it was a fact that had his teeth gnashing and his unkempt fingernails digging into the rugged flesh of his palms. It was a wracking guilt that he felt, despite having no direct part in what happened. It was knowing that it was her body, her magic, that had done what it had did to Fion without mercy. "R'lyeh..." he muttered, his voice full of anger and his eyes mirroring the sentiment. "Come on," he stated. "Let's pick these two up and bring them back to Cykes. Fion's family will more than likely have doctors at their estate." He strode over to the lump that was the stabilized Horace and moved him over his shoulder with ease despite the man's size. Hm, he thought, this body is deceptively strong...

Like with Horace, it didn't take too long for Araki to seal up Fion's wounds to an acceptable degree. With a sigh, the final injury scabbed over and he let go of his magic, the green aura dissipating quickly until it vanished. "Damnit," he grumbled in mild annoyance at having to return to Cykes already; partially because he had left not even a day ago, but also because the feeling to stay away had yet to subside. At the same time, he didn't exactly want to just abandon "Riley", even if "she" had the assistance of a djinn, nor Horace and Fion. Without much real choice, he picked the unconscious Fion up in between his arms and nodded for "Riley" to lead the way. "I hope you appreciate what I'm doing," he muttered as he shifted Fion about. While he could have thrown him over the shoulder like "Riley" had with Horace, with his luck Fion's many more wounds would end up opening up and just be causing a god damned mess.

Chad took another sip of the golden drink. He focused intently on the horizon and on the distinct sweet taste of the alcoholic beverage, doing his best to ignore a certain individual above traipsing about the airship’s old wooden mast. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished the mast would come down; then he would have one less problem to deal with.

The sounds of footsteps on the creaking wooden deck alerted Chad that somebody else had come on deck. Without turning around, he hazarded a guess that it was Lyra, but he was wrong. Turning around and leaning back onto the railing, he faced Rilolia, who seemed to be ill in some manner. He presumed it was airsickness. He offered her a mint in his pocket as he reciprocated her greeting, giving a shrug at her comment.

“I don’t think it takes a shrink to see how messed up Yazu is,” commented Chad. Rilolia’s question wasn’t particularly one for inducing calm, but he decided to humor her question. “I’m sure many people hold some sort of grudge against her. But she has no sense of economics or common sense. She appeared on my boat, broke my things, broke laws, and assumed I would accommodate her like a self-centered, spoiled brat. Worst of all, she had the gall to call me something along the lines of ‘a greedy imposter of a captain.’ There’s only so much a man’s dignity can take under fire from such insanity. Needless to say, we share a very intimate relationship.”

Another large sip of scotch went down his throat. Just thinking about Yazu made his blood boil, but his mildly pissed off state-of-mind soon changed to one of confusion as an ace of clubs fluttered onto deck, quickly transforming into a person-- A person that asked for one Rilolia Lorchais, who was standing next right next to him.

“Ah—Yes, I believe the person you are looking for is right in front of you.” Chad gestured towards Rilolia, standing beside him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about this new development.

"Oh," was all Rilolia could muster upon Chad finishing his brief, concise, and quickly heating rant. She expected something along the lines of Yazulayne being an elf, or that he simply didn't like her for her manner of speech and personality. Chad seemed like a mature enough person that the childish nature of Yazu would certainly dig under his skin. Apparently not, however, as Rilolia concluded. Accepting the mint, she averted her eyes and scoffed a bit. "Didn't realize she did that kind of thing," Rilolia lied... sort of.

Before she could move on to find a seat and enjoy the atmosphere as Chad did, a peculiar card found its way onto the ship with grace -much more grace than when she crashed into the seaship days before. She was almost jealous. Watching as the man arose from its magical plane of existence, Rilolia could only figure it was something that had to do with someone else aboard. Maybe that Lyra person. But when the crest of the Luna family made itself evident to her, she nearly wanted to dive from the ship. Nothing good could come of this.

"...to aid the young mistress in her quest.” She only caught the last few words, luckily, and she was suddenly more confused than anything. Luna family? Help? Her? What in the world possessed her family to aid a vagrant vampiress who lost her only valuable possession? "Th-that would be me," she replied, turning back to face the well-dressed man. He was a butler, that much was evident, but he was no one she'd ever recalled by face. "What in the world are you doing here?" she asked, rather impolitely. Aid? In what way? Invading Astopol!? He couldn't possibly...

Rilolia turned to Chad, and then back to the man, as if asking for confirmation that this was even happening. "What is your name?"

One night ago, Cykes had been a city of progress and rationality, one of scholarly thought and cool-headed debates. But now, the academic capital of Dansila was anything put rational. For it was the city in which all were welcome, casualties caused by that night time raid did not simply end at those of Dansilan citizenship, but civilians of Astopol and Illiserev as well. Aspiring priests and nuns who pursued theological and philosophical studies now dampened the roads with their blood. The sons of nobles and merchants flowed as freely as their money, sprawled out on the floor. It was only the Talze Uterans who were spared from the massacre, but through a logical, objective standpoint, that would most definitely be simply due to how few of them there were in the first place.

Yet the injured mob would not be satisfied with merely a rational decision. While the families of those who suffered cried in overcrowded hospitals or amongst orderly rows of corpses, hidden by stained, white blankets, those who were untouched, who had no crushing grief to overwhelm their anger, took to the streets. They wanted a scapegoat, and the few Talze Uterans who were in the city made the perfect target. After all, by morning, it was clear that the monsters of the night were summoned, not rift-beasts. And the only beings who exclusively used summons were the witches, those belonging of Talze Utera. That rage at their own powerlessness was what caused those who could move to protest, to march and yell and vandalize until the ruined buildings shook with the stomps of their feet.

“DEATH TO THE MONSTER! WAR TO TALZE UTERA!”

That tribal, primal cry for vengeance was loud, so loud that it even made its way into the confined meeting room of the Sidosa Board...or, at least, it's remaining members. Three were hospitalized. Two were dead. The minority remained, and they too have suffered during the unexpected attack. They too were not thinking with a clear mind.

And in that tense, nervous silence, one man, an elf elder, coughed and said, “Gentlemen, it's clear that Talze Utera is responsible for this attack. So...”

He clenched his gnarly fist. It was a mistake, setting up a meeting this early, when emotions were still running rampant. It was a mistake, but he couldn't stop himself now. Blood must be paid with blood. That was the simplest, truest, and most difficult law in the world.

“...let's hunt down every one of those fucking bastards.”

---

The brunette, Fion Meyer, nodded slightly at that affirmation of known knowledge. Except...why did she know that? Moments ago, she only knew him as a person who appeared once in awhile, but now that name brought forth deja vu. Was it familiar because it was her own name? No, that wasn't it. The name seemed to fit that person as well, in an incomprehensible manner, as if calling him by any other name would just be odd.

“Fion...”

So that was his name, and so was her's.

Fion of the Seyour family, a child who lost his arm and regained a new one, before being known as a man capable of using magic. With that ability, he was quickly recognized as a prodigy, but his personality made him more than simply unlikable to people. Other than his mother, his whole family holds varying degrees of hatred towards him, but at the same time, they can't beat him, simply because he is THAT powerful of a Sword Arts user.

Yet, how did she know all this? How did she know what Sword Arts were? How did she look into his past so easily? And more importantly...how did she only start knowing this now, after making contact with him? Who was he?

And...who was she?

The woman was aware that she was born, but she knew not the full details of her life, even though she could recall his memories as vividly as if they were her own. Could the same apply to him then? Could he recall her own memories?

“Do you know what my life was like, Fion who isn't myself? Because I don't know myself, yet I know you.”

---

Truly, the goddess of fortune must be smiling upon him if it was this easy to find Rilolia. He would have expected that a former vampire noble would have wished for a better transportation vehicle than this rusty backwater airship, but it seemed that she was in too much of a rush to care. She even hired a drunkard of a manservant. Thoroughly amusing, the differences between a high-class vampire elder and a runaway former noble.

Hiding his thoughts under an obedient mask, one that he had to wear so much more often these days, the gray-haired man bowed once more, this time a bow that brought him to form a perfect right angle. His long hair swinging downwards, brushing against his earrings, the servant said, “My deepest apologies for not noticing your noble vampire blood amongst these mundanes, Lady Lorchais. Though I have been formally task by Master Lorchais to help you in your goal of rescuing the swordsman Vance Warren, it is truly on the authority of the Scarlet Court that I act. It would appear that the Elders are quite interested in this individual, mi'lady.”

“Ah, and you may address me as Lenz Blanc, or anything else you feel fit to call me.”

Yazulaynes little own world, made out of a strong breeze, some wood and her, was shattered as she caught a glimpse of someone new entering the flying airship."Huh?" Curiosity taking the better of her she made a few steps forward, secured by her powers in form of 2 ropes tied to the mast and her chained by two ropes, to get a better look at the person, been a noble herself, her first statement was."A butler!"

A long black armish stick spread from the shadowy rope that served as protection, slowly making its way downwards, the small eyes here and there fixating their look on the new person. As the arm reached the ground and rooted itself there without damaging the ship, Yazu was transported along the strange contraption to reach the deck safely. With that done everything retracted itself into her scar on the face before she turned towards Lenz. "I wonder if we see any rainbow scaled dragons alongside our trip, I heard they are truly beautifull~ ..." Of course the cursed elf didn't hear anything of their conversation prior to joining but she would obviously introduce herself. "Hello Mister Butler, you may call us Yazulayne!"

“Do you know what my life was like, Fion who isn't myself? Because I don't know myself, yet I know you.”

Fion rose an eyebrow at this. What her life was like? She knew him? Trying to work his way through the girl's speech, he assumed that she apparently knew what his life had been like. But she didn't know her own? If anything, this just reinforced the theory that this entire sequence of events was just some kind of odd hallucination. Still, might as well humor her and see how this plays out. She might not even end the dream by trying to eat him this time.

"Honestly, all I know is that you're a girl who keeps showing up in my dreams where everything's on fire and you eat my face off. So there's that."

Eating his face off? That was...huh. She never considered that before. It was odd as well, why she didn't need to eat food, unlike this male Fion. Did she not get angry? Or was she not the same type of human as himself? Food and water should be vital, but she didn't feel like she needed it. The woman thought for a moment, before wondering about another thing. A curious concept that she had gleamed from his memories and knowledge.

"Are you actually a man?"

To this, Fion could only sigh. This nonsense again. Thanks to his usage of Sword Arts, he couldn't go a week without being confused for a woman. Then again, it was why he gave Riley so much shit for looking like a young boy. Spreading the love just amused him. Unfortunately, thinking of Riley caused him to shift his eyes towards the stump that was once his right arm, and he quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of his head as he stared back at the girl.

"I'm pretty sure I am." And with a wry grin, his hand went down to his pants. "Do I have to show proof?"

"You lack Sword Skills, even as a man. You already have a penis, because that too is prominent in your memories."

And those facts meant nothing. The bigger question was why he was unable to use Sword Skills. As Fion thought to herself, she began to gleam into other questions. He had a left arm, and she had a right arm. He was unable to use Sword Skills, even though other male Sword Arts users simply focused on Sword Arts because it was their specialty, not because they were unable to use Sword Skills.

"So I'll ask you again. Are you actually a male? Or are you just something else inside a male body?"

Huh. That was actually a good question. Fion had known the individual facts that she'd just listed off, but he'd never really thought on the deeper reason behind it. If he hadn't lost his left arm when he was a child and had that girl's arm attached to his body, would he have been able to use Sword Skills? Or would he still have been as he was now? Fion knew that he should probably be more concerned about the girl's question, but it honestly meant nothing to him.

"To be honest, I have no idea. I might just be what you said, a woman in a man's body, but I could care less. I have a male's parts and I think I'm a male, so I might as well be a male. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"If you're the woman though, who's the man?"

Then, she stopped.

"And what does that make me? What does that make of the left arm that I don't have, and the right arm that you don't have?"

Her features were slowly distorting, sharpening, widening, a smile with too much teeth and not enough happiness appearing.

"What would happen if I regained what was missing? And what would happen if you completed what you were missing?"

A sword, no, a smaller, thinner version of Fion's own scimitar began to appear in her hand.

"And if you aren't what you are, then what does that mean for Riley?"

"And here we go..." Fion grumbled under his breath, somehow unsurprised as the girl's smile became toothy and menacing. Clearly, something was wrong with his mind if his subconscious kept trying to actively murder him in his dreams. And at this point, he was sick of this bitch. Maybe if he killed her now, she'd finally stop appearing when he slept.

"You want my arm?" He grinned in a mirror of the girl's, drawing his scimitar in his left hand before leveling it at her. "I think I'll take yours instead."

The brunette's smile widened in response, her face expanding and expanding until it covered up the entirety of the world. Then, as simple as that, she swallowed the world whole.

___

Fion opened his eyes, wincing as the sunlight burned spots into his vision. Yawning, he scowled as he recalled what he had just woken up from. Another damned dream where the same girl ate him. This one had been far more involved than previous ones, but it still ended the same way.

And then he noticed his head was resting on something very comfortable. Stretching his head back, he saw Riley's face looking down at him. Oh. So he was in her lap. Huh. Staring blankly at her, Fion eventually uttered one word.

"What."

"Morning, Fion."

Then, Riley smiled in a beautifully feminine manner, brought her hands over his eyes, and promptly crushed his eyeballs.
___

Fion opened his eyes again, looking up at the familiar ceiling of his room. Sitting up, he stretched both of his arms, yawning as the familiar visage of Richard entered his room, clutching a steaming mug on a serving tray.

"Good morning, young master. I've brought you hot chocolate."

At this, Fion frowned. He hated hot chocolate, and Richard knew this.

"What."

Then, Richard smiled in a beautifully feminine manner, lifted the mug above Fion's head, and poured the flesh-melting liquid over him.
___

Fion awoke with a groan, opening his eyes to the morning light as he looked down towards his right arm, where only a stump remained. Narrowing his eyes, he silently stared at the stump for a moment before taking a look at his surrounds.

"...Where am I now?"

Rilolia hazarded a guess this butler didn't really notice too much of a difference between her and Chad, drunkard he might have appeared to be. Her once vibrant and expensive clothing had since become dull, dirtied, ruffled and patched in several places. Her beloved hat, most of all, was likely the more tattered of her belongings; and yet, the raggedness made seem all the more lovable. Rilolia glanced at Chad, nearly shrugging as if to brush off the butler's half-compliment, half-insult statement, but for the moment the return to "nobility" felt good. She wouldn't commend the butler, nevertheless.

How the head of Lorerchais had come to know of her excursions into madness was beyond her, but she assumed that notice of the volcanic ruckus must have gotten out quite quickly. She slightly eyed the butler, hesitant but appreciative, hiding behind a facade of distrust.

"Scarlet Court, huh..." she mumbled to herself, "What do they find in Vance that warrants sending a butler to my aid? And how the hell did you know I was here?!" she cried. Certainly, even at the mention of his name, Rilolia recalled nothing of the man. "Lenz Blac" surfaced no memories from her childhood in the Lorerchais mansion.

I feel like calling him Smithers, Rilolia laughed mentally, giving off a devious smile.