---

“That’s the fierce Roxas I know.” said Fia as the elven archer broke free from Fia’s grasp. Fia couldn’t see exactly what happened, but Roxas was enveloped in a new light that brought about vigor that she wasn’t displaying before. But the elf was right, Fia could see that the phantoms started to hone in on their position. Perhaps the light that invigorated Roxas also made them known to the phantom. Fia took a step back to give both her and Roxas room. “Hear that, big guy? The party is starting.” said Fia to Tillius.

Fia started to channel her magic when an odd sensation completely different than what she was used to washed ove rher. It wasn’t exactly something she felt, but she could tell that her aura had gained a new light. Fia looked at her hands, front and back, and then around her person. All she could see were Roxas preparing her arrow, and Tillius steady his shield. Fia couldn’t see her benefactor that provided the aura of light, but she could tell it was of a similar kind to what enveloped Roxas. Fia reached to her bag and removed a glass sphere. The sphere fit in the palm of Fia’s hand comfortably, a starburst pattern inside mixed with swirls of color. A color that did not remain long. Within the starburst embedded inside, a light began to glow and soon the multiple colors that made up the starburst was pure white.

“I think we should worry more on our side, dear.” said Fia. While Roxas had eyes on the horse riding captain charging Rezello and Forbann, Fia could see the other five soldiers bearing down on the three of them. The Sphere began to float before Fia as she used her hands to craft a starburst made of light in her palms. With a flick of her wrist, the light beamed forward towards the ground in just front of the five running soldiers. It would erupt into a five foot wide column of white light. Fia attempted to time it so that by the time it erupted, the soldiers would be just over it “I wonder if we share the same flavor of light. Let’s see how effective this is at stopping our nightmarish foes.”

The soldiers were too close for comfort, and Fia hoped Tillius would reach in time in case her spell was not effective. These phantoms were still new territory. They were not like the djinn or the elves she had spent years dealing with. This felt like an entirely new realm, and the extent of their power was still unknown.

---

Tillius continued going, even with the arrows bouncing off the shield, which he could only assume was from Roxas, or the scream filleting through his ears. This was fake. It was all fake, created by evil forces seeking to break wills and drag them into the miserable abyss where they belonged. He would not be tempted. Every time he lowered his shield, Vesemir's light grew closer.

However, the people behind him continued to be swarmed by the phantoms. It was as if they knew he wouldn't be fazed, so now they began to target the weaker and susceptible. He could not afford to move any further when she was engulfed in injuries, both mental and physical, stopping right in his track, refusing to abandon the people behind him. Just before his sanity began to slip as well trying to assess the situation, Roxas was healed back with some form of magic, unknown where, unknown whom, but she recovered. Good, they needed to keep moving.

"Lads! We found them!" one of the soldiers cried, his voice was unusually cruel, coarse, and amplified. Their weapons were drawn, sword and poleaxes, and soon they would initiate the skirmish by making a flanking move toward the party's frontline.

No, not good. This snapped Tillius away, seeing the phantoms recognizing the group's existence. Or did they? Was this just a ruse? Was this a fragment of those dark ages, or were they actually attacking him. But their weapons were drawn. One of the soldiers briefly locked eyes with Tillius, the bloodlust dripping from his eyes told Tillius it was real, but somewhere his brain continued saying it was fake.

"Hmph." Tillius changed grip on his shield to a downward grip, no longer trying to block vision. His sword unsheathed behind the shield, his soldiery instinct heard, and now the die is cast. They would now fight. The captain of the butcher soldiers galloped past his group towards the two big men at the back. Unfortunately, they would have to deal with the captain alone, seeing him, Fia and Roxas would be severely outnumbered if he went on to help.

"Watch behind me, and keep moving towards the light." Tillius had his shield covering most of his upper body and his sword posture, as he witnessed the erupting light do its work. Once again, he had no business going on the offensive, it would just split the group up and the two ladies would be picked apart. If these soldiers were to attack him, they would have to attack a coordinated group instead of one orc.

@Randomness@Visyn

Thankfully, healing magic seemed to work just fine in the illusion. The wound on Roxas' arm slowly knit back with a wet squelch, the pain receding accordingly. Still largely hidden behind Tillius' hulking figure, the act went largely unnoticed by the incoming assailants. However, the lightshow conjured by Fia was an entirely different matter.

"MAGE!"

The cruel rictus on the soldiers' visage twisted into a different, equally exaggerated wariness as they saw the conjured sphere of light, their charge slowing as they started to scatter away from ground zero in a concerningly disciplined maneuver. Five pair of bloodshot eyes followed the conjuration as it beamed forward, sinking into the ground before torrential blast of searing light erupted in its place.

The sudden brightness illuminated the soldiers, the dark-red splatter and ashen stain on their tabard, the beads of sweat running down their forehead, fresh rivulets of crimson dripping down between crooked teeth. The damage itself was minimum, the frontmost three suffering from some minor burn and laceration, but the magical opening was far from ineffective.

They howled, disconcertingly uniform, momentarily overtaking the noise of distant screams and crackling pyre, shock intermixing with anger as the advance staggered into a halt. Weapons were brandished more to threaten than to gain any advantage, the men too busy trying to blink away the dark spot in the middle of their vision with limited success.

"Harridan! I'll tear out your eyes and feed it to your friends!" Yelled one of them, squinting as the squad continued to try surround the trio albeit much clumsier than before. One of the sword-wielder halted some distance away at the front, momentarily gobsmacked by the sheer size of the tower shield before him while the rest split into a pair of sword and poleaxe on each flank. They'll be in position soon, and likely wouldn't hesitate to begin the assault after.

While making her way around the soldiers along with Tillius and Fia, it seemed Roxas had become injured. Some form of healing magic had been used on her in response to the wound, though it didn't appear to be her doing. The work of one of the party members outside the illusion, perhaps? Regardless of the cause, the light that had engulfed her as a result of the spell had drawn the attention of the captain and his soldiers; while the soldiers moved to attack Roxas, Tillius, and Fia, the captain charged on his horse towards Rezello and Forbann, wielding a blood-stained hatchet. Rezello held out a hand, a long line of silver light manifesting in his grasp before changing into his bec de corbin, the knight lowering himself into a defensive stance as he readied to counter the captain's assault, streaks of lightning magic running down his arms and into his weapon.

Galloping at full speed, the dark captain, whatever he truly was, seemed to be quite well-versed in knowledge of warfare. So, when he saw the masked knight summoned a type of polearm to anticipate his charge, rather than trying to face it head-on, he maneuvered slightly to his right and swung the back of his axe against Rezzello's Bec de Corbin to demoralize him.

Two weapons collided with a clang. What he did not anticipate was, that it only needed the slightest contact for Rezello's lightning spell to transfer its mighty shock toward the unsuspecting enemy, and it did. Maybe because the spectral captain was too careful not to have his axe snagging the polearm's namesake beak, the attack was clumsy and was easily countered, causing the Bec de Corbin to connect with the captain's iron greaves and instantly electrocute both the rider and the steed with paralyzing lightning.

Should Rezello look back to face the fallen rider, he would find him immediately crawling all four like a dazed beast, while his horse, still awkwardly trotting, mindlessly rushed into the profound darkness behind him and gone.

Two red eyes of his stared fiercely at Rezello, and he abandoned his bloodied hatchet for a longsword that rang as he drew it from his side. Then, with sheer hatred, he lunged forth, uttering words in a fashion that was more similar to shrieking and hissing rather than speaking.

There he cried: "Traitor! Here, your fate will be sealed!"

The strike was coming, wide yet powerful, seemingly intended to decapitate Razello with a single swing.

@Valkon

---

Roxas gave a soft relief sigh when she saw her wound heal. Good, it wasn't hindered here. She looked around to take in her surroundings quickly. The lantern was further ahead, but the men were starting to block them in.

Her hand was swift as she pulled an arrow, notched and aimed. She followed one of the men, and let her arrow loose to zoom towards him. She quickly grabbed another arrow and aimed as she notched, following the same man and letting the second arrow loose. She pulled a third arrow, aiming and waiting as she watched the movements of the men.

As she watched, she tried to maintain the movement to go towards the lantern. Her bow still pulled, she glanced to Rezello and Forbann. Hopefully they would okay. She didn't want them to separate, but Rezello looked to be holding his own. She let loose her third arrow and already was notching a fourth when the men were getting into better position.

---

"Harridan! I'll tear out your eyes and feed it to your friends!" Yelled one of them, squinting as the squad continued to try surround the trio albeit much clumsier than before. One of the sword-wielder halted some distance away at the front, momentarily gobsmacked by the sheer size of the tower shield before him while the rest split into a pair of sword and poleaxe on each flank. They'll be in position soon, and likely wouldn't hesitate to begin the assault after.

But would they have a moment to begin the simultaneous assault? Tillius recognized the fear in his opponent's face. And this was the time to strike. If the swordsman was such a coward to close in the distance with the legionary, then the legionary comes to him with a few strides, the shield now towering even higher. The swordsman needed to act fast, otherwise his face would be bashed in with the shield then followed with a sword in his belly or neck.

All the while, Tillius was silent. He hoped to quickly get rid of this bozo, or make him commit to an attack, or at least probe him into running, so Tillius could separate him from the remaining four, so he could reinforce the two behind him.

Rezello

---

Should Rezello look back to face the fallen rider, he would find him immediately crawling all four like a dazed beast, while his horse, still awkwardly trotting, mindlessly rushed into the profound darkness behind him and gone.

Two red eyes of his stared fiercely at Rezello, and he abandoned his bloodied hatchet for a longsword that rang as he drew it from his side. Then, with sheer hatred, he lunged forth, uttering words in a fashion that was more similar to shrieking and hissing rather than speaking.

There he cried: "Traitor! Here, your fate will be sealed!"

The strike was coming, wide yet powerful, seemingly intended to decapitate Razello with a single swing.

Rezello felt the magic flow through him as the surge of electricity stunned the captain and his steed; with his opponent dismounted, their primary advantage over him had been taken away. As the captain lunged, a powerful but clearly telegraphed slash incoming, Rezello's weapon flashed sliver as he swung what was now a messer in his off-hand to deflect the captain's longsword up and over his head, shifting his stance to put as much distance between the blade's trajectory and his neck as he reasonably could.

Continuing the momentum of his parry and dodge, Rezello moved his other hand - now wielding his morningstar - to strike at the captain, his weapon seeking the gap in armor between the torso and underarm.

Rezello

---

Rezello felt the magic flow through him as the surge of electricity stunned the captain and his steed; with his opponent dismounted, their primary advantage over him had been taken away. As the captain lunged, a powerful but clearly telegraphed slash incoming, Rezello's weapon flashed sliver as he swung what was now a messer in his off-hand to deflect the captain's longsword up and over his head, shifting his stance to put as much distance between the blade's trajectory and his neck as he reasonably could.

Continuing the momentum of his parry and dodge, Rezello moved his other hand - now wielding his morningstar - to strike at the captain, his weapon seeking the gap in armor between the torso and underarm.

The deflection by Rezello was perfectly timed, the Captain had his arm raised above his target, leaving a gap in his armor under his armpit exposed. The blunder was quickly identified, but not quickly rectified, and as he was about to retreat from his awkward stance, a swing from a spiked heavy mace crushed his right ribs.

The sheer force from the blow pushed the dark captain sideways, stopping his advance, and now he was retreating, staggering to gain some distance, left hand clutching his crushed ribs. His red eyes were still fixated on the goblin-masked knight. Huffing and grunting as he struggled to keep himself from falling.

He still clutching his sword with his right hand, yet his posture was crooked. He was just two strides from Rezzelo's striking range, and clearly vulnerable.

---

With Tillius leading the way forward, it left Fia and Roxas to deal with the other soldiers as they surrounded their flanks. Fia could hear the rapid twang of Roxas’ bow behind her. So it definitely wasn’t for show. Roxas was quite skillful at not only bring a magical medic, but in combat as well. Fia didn’t doubt her ability, of course. She was glad to have such a capable ally in this weird world of non-illusions.

Trusting Roxas to watch her side of the enemy assault, Fia focused more on the soldiers that were attempting to surround her. The glass orb continues to levitate near Fia as she channeled her magic again. This time the starburst embedded inside the sphere glowed a pale blue and off white. She could see the enemy soldiers were cautious, and keeping some distance. The men were sure to keep their weapons poised.

“How rude.” Said Fia in response to their comment. Fia swiped her hand horizontally in front of her. Fia had to think quickly. She wanted to stop the soldiers but she also didn’t want to cut off Rezello and Forbann who were still behind. So as she cast her magic, a wave of pale ice flew a cone shape. If the soldiers were caught, it would freeze them in place, encasing them in frozen water. If they dodged, the ground would be covered in slippery ice, making hasty traversal hazardous. In either case, the soldiers would be halted from advancing quickly if at all. At the same time the area behind Fia was unaffected, keeping a path clear for her melee focused friends. Besides maybe a wind chill, the spell was not in the path of any of her nearby allies.

The first snap of a bowstring served as a signal, the flanking men charging at once. On Roxas' side, the lead swordsman staggered with an arrow piercing his chest. Another found its mark soon after, the projectile whizzing before punching through mail and shirt alike to find purchase in the flesh underneath. He faltered, falling to his knee with a wet gurgle, crimson spittle flowing out of his mouth.

As if uncaring of his fallen comrade, the axeman continued the charge and raised his poleaxe up high. A wide swing was incoming, partial blindness to be compensated by the sizeable arc. The third arrow found purchase in him, somewhere lower in the abdomen, yet whether drunk in adrenaline or the presence of a beer belly the man wasn't much hampered by the damage at the moment.

At the center, Tillius was up against a massively outclassed soldier that perhaps gained a moment of clarity of the fact mere moment before the shield impacted him like an unyielding rampart. Likely not expecting to be on the defensive, he only managed a token swing before his balance broke and he fell backward. A short stab gutted him through the belly before he's halfway down, the simple mail shirt not quite matching up to orcish strength. He impacted the ground, air driven out of his lungs for a moment before reality caught up, then a high-pitched squeal escaped his lips not akin to a pig in a slaughterhouse.

On the other side, a cone of frost buffeted the last pair of soldiers. Woefully unprepared for the sudden onset of winter, the two of them froze in their tracks - literally and figuratively - with ice rooting their boots and frostbite eating at any visible patch of skin. Both of them yelled in confusion, stumbling from their previous momentum before falling flat face-first thanks to their frozen footwear. The fall broke the rime holding them in place, yet even then they had trouble standing back up from the iced ground. Like fishes in a barrel, should anyone have the range or reach to get at them.

---

The first snap of a bowstring served as a signal, the flanking men charging at once. On Roxas' side, the lead swordsman staggered with an arrow piercing his chest. Another found its mark soon after, the projectile whizzing before punching through mail and shirt alike to find purchase in the flesh underneath. He faltered, falling to his knee with a wet gurgle, crimson spittle flowing out of his mouth.

As if uncaring of his fallen comrade, the axeman continued the charge and raised his poleaxe up high. A wide swing was incoming, partial blindness to be compensated by the sizeable arc. The third arrow found purchase in him, somewhere lower in the abdomen, yet whether drunk in adrenaline or the presence of a beer belly the man wasn't much hampered by the damage at the moment.

A smirk appeared as she watched the arrows sink into the targets. She watched the axeman continue towards her, making her range harder to shoot at. Roxas proceeded to bend backs, arrow transferring to her bow hand and both hands going to the ground as her legs kicked up. The axeman in range of her kick and her foot aiming for the axe in his hand as he swung at her. She landed easily, bow already pulling up to shoot.

She notched her arrow she had and shot at the axeman. She notched another immediately, shooting at him again. She notched a third and fourth together, aiming at him steadily. She was waiting for him to proceed forward if he could. She wasn't playing anymore with two arrows notched. Her gaze glanced to Rezello again, noting he was doing doing well. She heard the ice behind her, figuring Fia used ice and Tillius seemed to be making strides as well. Everything seemed to be going well.

Rezello

---

The deflection by Rezello was perfectly timed, the Captain had his arm raised above his target, leaving a gap in his armor under his armpit exposed. The blunder was quickly identified, but not quickly rectified, and as he was about to retreat from his awkward stance, a swing from a spiked heavy mace crushed his right ribs.

The sheer force from the blow pushed the dark captain sideways, stopping his advance, and now he was retreating, staggering to gain some distance, left hand clutching his crushed ribs. His red eyes were still fixated on the goblin-masked knight. Huffing and grunting as he struggled to keep himself from falling.

He still clutching his sword with his right hand, yet his posture was crooked. He was just two strides from Rezzelo's striking range, and clearly vulnerable.

Rezello straightened his posture after his riposte struck true, watching as his phantom opponent was forced back and his resulting struggle to maintain his balance as he made an attempt to retreat. In his current state, Rezello could potentially leave the wounded captain behind and join the others against his subordinates, but there was no guaranteeing that he wouldn't push past the pain of his shattered bones and attempt to muster a final stand, or have some kind of hidden trick; a last resort to use against them if left alive - for what measure of "alive" he could even be considered.

Better, Rezello reasoned, not to leave any loose ends. Advancing towards the captain, messer angled and ready to block any desperate attacks he might try with his longsword, Rezello raised his morningstar in the air and swiftly brought it down upon his staggered enemy's helm.

Rezello

---

Better, Rezello reasoned, not to leave any loose ends. Advancing towards the captain, messer angled and ready to block any desperate attacks he might try with his longsword, Rezello raised his morningstar in the air and swiftly brought it down upon his staggered enemy's helm.

The Masked Rezello marched forth, and whatever observable reaction the Captain could muster was insignificant at best. Like... he was not even paying attention to his enemy's next move, and when he did, all he could do to anticipate was to raise his dominant hand, to weakly parry the strike, such a futile endeavor it was.

The morning star swung true, smashing the Captain's helmeted head and sending his already bent posture to slam down against the paved ground. The morning star's protruding spikes penetrated the metal helmet, and for a while, remained stuck on the captain's head until Rezello yanked it free.

It felt real; the impact, the recoil, the sensation when the spike hit the captain's head. The feeling when you were sure that man's head was already caved in like a watermelon. Yet, no trace of blood could be seen as the captain lay unmoving before him, and then for a while, all Rezello could hear was the cacophony of dark whispering that suddenly intensified, voiced by begrudging, shadowy spectators.

As if conforming, That the blow was fatal, the captain was dead, and there was no mistake in that.

---

Fia’s left hand glided across her hair as it rested on her shoulder, brushing it back so that it draped behind her. Her head followed the motion guiding the strands to be out of the way. Fia let out a short but audible sigh. The two soldiers were struggling to keep their balance now. The bits of loose teeth they probably had after their tumble wouldn’t have helped either.

Fia held out her right hand, the orb resting just above her palm. The starburst within began to shift into the pale blue and off white color as Fia stared down at the struggling men. She didn’t have any sort of expression of her face, just letting her magic come together. She moved her hand in front of her and the orb glowed just slightly before two streams of centralized ice beamed out, one towards each individual soldier before her. This ice was concentrated. If the earlier cone was cold before, this ice was penetratingly frigid.

“Even if this isn’t real, I hope this brings some peace to you, darlings.” said Fia to herself. She said those words intended for the elves who suffered in the display of carnage. Fia hoped her spell would be enough to end those soldiers. She wanted to give them just a taste of what Fia witnessed in this nightmarish realm.

---

So the guy was real, or at least as real as it gets, with the bones cracking and the blood seeping into his sword as Tillius plunged it directly into his veins. If so, there is a weird and somewhat twisted sense of joy tingling in ending this soldier's life. Nothing more satisfying than seeing the bloodlust and bravado drain from a man's face as he realized how much he had bitten that he couldn't chew. Better yet, even if he was just a simple fragment of the past, the soldier's records ensured Tillius would sleep peacefully hearing his pathetic life fading.

But Tillius would not dabble long. Once he retracted his sword, he knew the soldier was dead, so he immediately turned back and headed towards the other soldiers swarming the ladies. But it seemed like they were keeping pace. Two soldiers were staggered by frost on Fia's side, and on Roxas's side, only one proved an immediate danger to her, even as the man continued taking on arrows, his axe were raised. That's who Tillius was going for next.

If the soldier hadn't fell to Roxas's continuous stream of fire, he would soon be facing the giant orc soon, with a shield ready to bash on his knees.

Seems that despite the illusory nature of the battle, the participating fighters were still shackled by mortal limitations. Willpower could only get so far, the axeman visibly slowed before momentarily halting in place. One could see the laborious breath, the wince from the pain and distraught eyes looking at his falling comrades. But then steel return to his gaze as he took a step forward, weapon raised... only for another pair of arrows finding their way through his eyes.

The rotund soldier unceremoniously fell, no possibility of rising from that. For the most part Roxas went through the entire exchange unharmed, save from some throbbing toes from kicking a steel axehead.

On the other side, the two soldiers watched with despair as the orb of frost intensified. They raised their hands in a desperate bid to halt the incoming attack, the attempt completely ineffective as the temperature dropped into frigid hell. Frostbite rapidly ate into them, freezing flesh and veins alike, their range of motion dropping rapidly until only a pair of half-frozen corpses remained.

The swordsman at the center was stilling already, unnaturally quickly considering the wound. The first to succumb to arrow too were unmoving, and with the last combatant felled it was as if a pulse ran through the area. The view turned blurry, scene of slaughter distorted by black shadows, the ever-present distant whisper taking a cacophonous turn. Only the light ahead was unaffected, a lighthouse that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

And soon, the whole world seemed to be fading in the intensifying light. The whispering too suddenly ceased, and as they opened their eyes, the world was dim again, and they found themselves returned, to the same place, but this time no more cries, anger sadness, or pain could be heard, and no more trees, blood, corpses, soldiers, or burning houses could be seen.

All they could see for the first time, in this normal world was Vesemir checking them one by one, faint hazes of mysterious smoke emanated from their bodies, and they felt rather lightheaded.

To their surprise, they were still in the same position as before, as if the whole experience were happening outside their physical body. But the mark from that battle seemed to be carried over. Roxas could still feel and see a trace of pain and blood on her arm, and those who clashed their weapons with the enemy could still feel the fatigue.

"Sir, Vesemir, are they all right? We must move now. The tranquility wont last for too long." someone said, and it was Gray Flame, with Carnathia standing between them and the lantern. A white, refined blaze danced on his palm, providing additional light that also seemed to be keeping the curious shadows and malicious darkness at bay.

"You heard our Ranger." said the monocled elf, patting Tillius's shoulder and subtly indicating the ever-present shadows surrounding their illuminated path, like they were on a small island surrounded by an abyssal sea.

"I bet you all have plenty of questions as big as a pyramid in Abydos, but it is ill-advised to discuss it hither---

As he said that, howling winds, sounded more like a horrifying moan blew from one of the nearby ramshackle houses.

"Let's go for now, until we find a safer place. I will take the rear guard this time, Mr. Gray Flame and Sir Engelbert, you two take points."

---

Carnatia watched as the shadows started to disperse, and those who had been affected awaked from their reverie, being checked over by Vesemir. She did not know what effect that fire Gray Flame helped her make had on the phantoms, but it seemed to have worked.

Whatever it was, it had better be worth it, she thought, considering how drained she was right now and not to mention the initial searing pain when the fire first manifested.

"Sir, Vesemir, are they all right? We must move now. The tranquility wont last for too long." someone said, and it was Gray Flame, with Carnathia standing between them and the lantern. A white, refined blaze danced on his palm, providing additional light that also seemed to be keeping the curious shadows and malicious darkness at bay.

'Tranquility won't be lasting wrong? What exactly is this man alluding to now?' Carnatia thought in exasperation. At this point, she was starting to think that Gray Flame was literally incapable of speaking clearly instead of in allusion, riddles, or other obfuscating manners.

Still, the urgency in his voice was clear enough, and thus, Carnatia stood up and drew her rapier just in case. A moment later, a horrifying scream pierced the night's air, most likely the 'something that would disturb the tranquility' Gray Flame had alluded to.

As Vesemir urged the party to move, Carnatia nodded, as she took her position behind Gray Flame and Engelbert.

---

The elven woman gave a soft gasp as she essentially came back from the Shadows. Her gaze moved around quickly, assessing what was going on before she glanced to her arm. She saw the blood, meaning her wound on the Shadows had been real. She clicked her tongue lightly, fishing out a cloth and wiping her arm quickly. She didn't want her scent of blood to cause problems if there was such creatures. She stuffed the cloth back into her pocket.

Her gaze moved to Carnatia as she spoke, then to Vesemir as he ordered Gray and Engelbert to be front point. Seems they caused enough problems and needed to get going. The scream in the ever dark didn't cause any hesitation. She shifted, pulling her bow from her shoulder and gave a soft sigh. "I'm here and ready."

---

Fia sighed as she watched the two soldiers lets out their last breath, a faint fog escaping their lips. Frozen in place, what remained of the soldiers were two sculptures of ice, blackened flesh beneath, their expressions preserved, at least only for the moment. Fia guided her orb back into her palm, magic no longer being channeled through it, and carefully stashed it into her bag. She turned to see that everyone else, including Rezello had easily dispatched their challengers. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be much harm among them. The same couldn’t be said for the soldiers. Alone, the scene was gruesome, but compared to what Fia had seen, this was nothing.

Fia’s eyes shifted as the setting shifted. The fires faded. The blood and corpses did as well. The light the group had been making their way towards brightened, as the cool evening air washed over Fia. Whatever that realm was illusory or not, it seemed she had escaped. Gray Flame and Carnatia were close, and near the lantern Engelbert. It was like she had not moved at all since entering that nightmare. Fia shifted into a more rested stance as Vesemir appeared, checking on her. It was then Fia realized how faint she was feeling. She shook her head.

“I hope you will enlighten us to what exactly that was, and why it hasn’t been dealt with when we get out of here, darling.” said Fia. She said this to no one in particular, but her posture had her facing Gray Flame and Vesemir’s general direction. Fia saw the shadows still around them, but this time those visions they shared before seemed at bay. Getting to the vault, or at least at a place where the phantom influence wouldn’t get another attempt was more important. Fia kept up with everyone as the group reformed ready to move forward.

Fia jogged a little to catch up with Carnatia. Between her, the lantern, and Gray Flame, the light flame shared between them held something familiar. “That light. What is it? How are you radiating it?”