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. [b]“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.”[/b] He raised his hand and a black summoning circle revolved in it, as a little monster's head broke through. [b]“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.”[/b] He closed his hand, crushing that circle and returning that monster from where it came, before waving cheerily, standing up. [b]“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.”[/b] 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? [b]“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.”[/b] 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. [b]“Will High Sage Esprit be present, Sir Savaniel?” “My apologies, but the High Sage will not be attending, Priestess Cairyn.”[/b] 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. [b]“Oh Aiv,”[/b] the raven-haired witchmother said, seated on a rather comfy padded chair, shaped like a teddy bear, [b]“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.”[/b] Hopping off her chair and stretching backwards, the quarterstaff tipping behind and tapping the carpetted floor, East said, [b]“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.”[/b] Aiv thought for a moment, his white hair covering his eyes. [b]“Of course, my dear, such a favor must be rewarded after we come back, don't you think?”[/b] 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, [b]“Let's go, East.” “Aw, when did I say we'd be walking?”[/b] 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. [b]“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~”[/b] --- 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. [b]“Greetings,”[/b] he said, in a smooth, cultured tone, [b]“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.”[/b]