TALES OF BRILLIANCE

The world of Glazend was overall a tranquil one… mostly because 80% of the world had not been explored yet. Nautical navigation was not advanced enough to handle the rough seas and unknown territory. Nothing beyond the sole continent of Sephira had been thoroughly mapped, so no sea dog worth his salt wanted to venture into the open waters with no way of knowing when they would possibly reach land. Whatever civilization existed was all on Sephira, a landmass equivalent in size and appearance to South America.

Sephira was divided into three nations; Sord in the far south, Zenterr in the middle, and Boreas to the distant north. Again using South America as an example, Sord would cover Chile, Argentina, Uruguay and the Falkland Islands. Zenterr had the largest landmass, which would cover Peru, Bolivia, Paraguay and Brazil. The remaining northern countries from Ecuador to French Guiana would be Boreas, making it the smallest country.

Each nation also had their unique cultures. Sord followed oriental traditions such as kimonos, cherry blossom viewings and public hot springs, but it was the least developed in technological advances. Sord was stuck in the era of steam, windmills and hard manual labor, so the other nations joked about Sord being a backwards steampunk country. In contrast, Zenterr had the highest level of development, utilizing magitechnology to replace gasoline-powered engines and wind-operated turbines. Thanks to the royal family’s desire to have their country be the shining example of what the future was like, Zenterr prospered as a result, making it a hub for educational and magic-researching institutions led by a non-political organization of magicians called the Sect of Maxwell. Then in Boreas, technology was somewhere in the middle. Sadly, it was the most barbaric of the three countries because it was led by the High Elven Council. The council was an oligarchy of wealthy elves that saw their race as the most superior over all others, and they sanctioned racial violence to quell the population of Humans and Half-Elves in Boreas while granting favor to pure-blooded Elves.

Why did the council want to commit such genocidal acts toward others? They felt that their magical ability was the strongest, and in Glazend, magic was everything. The council felt that Sord was just an outdated hick country that could easily be overtaken, but Zenterr was a huge obstacle towards taking over all of Sephira and stamping out non-Elves. The council also felt that Zenterr had stolen their magitechnology through espionage and subterfuge, so some Elves would be scrutinized if they were suspected of betraying Boreas.

Indeed, magic was a huge part of all three nations’ cultures. Thanks to the Sect of Maxwell’s ability to set up temples and research facilities all across Sephira, everyone was taught how to use magic. Regardless of race, gender, age, social status or upbringing, all people were granted two out of ten mysterious glyphs called Thauma (pl. Thaumae). Each Thauma could control a specific element, so people were able to use two at any time. The glyphs were named after the highest Summon Spirit of that particular element, which were the following:

Undine Thauma (water)
Efreet Thauma (fire)
Sylph Thauma (wind)
Gnome Thauma (earth)
Celsius Thauma (ice)
Volt Thauma (lightning)
Rem Thauma (light)
Shadow Thauma (darkness)
Martel Thauma (nature)
Lorelei Thauma (sound)

Every child would undergo the Blessing of Elements by a priest from the Sect of Maxwell (named after the king of elements). A type of magician called a thaumaturge - from which the Thauma were named after – could do the blessing as well, but most families didn’t want their children exposed to folks who commonly wore plague doctor outfits to denote their profession. Either way, the blessing would determine what the child’s strongest elemental affinity was. From there, they would go to a nearby temple or Sect facility to graft the child with two Thaumae most suited to them. These Thaumae remained with them for life, and no more than two could be grafted onto a person. Their new control over two elements could then be used for practical purposes or for combat, combining their regular attacks with magic powers.

In a similar vein, magitechnology was the process of grafting a Thauma to an object rather than a person. A Sylph Thauma could keep a windmill running even on a day with no breeze; an Efreet Thauma could keep the coals lit in a train; an Undine Thauma could be installed on a weather balloon and have its power summoned by a thaumaturge to induce rain during a period of drought; a Celsius Thauma could be planted inside a snowman figurine and placed inside houses or institutions to create air conditioning during scorching hot days. Such clever applications were commonplace everywhere except for Sord, and that country’s citizens were rallying for such advances.

Magitechnology wasn’t well researched in military applications, but Sord and Zenterr were concerned that Boreas could turn its attention in that direction in the near future. But even if Boreas wanted to develop military magitechnology, the Sect of Maxwell’s most fervent supporters in Sord and Zenterr wouldn’t allow it, and the Sect’s official facilities in Boreas would threaten to abandon Boreas if the council demanded military applications for Thauma. Without the Sect’s influence, Boreas would easily collapse in the face of Zenterr’s technology, so the High Elven Council had to keep quiet.

This was the complex state that Sephira was in – a false peace that could easily shatter if any country made a wrong move. Everyone expected Boreas to be the aggressor due to the council’s genocidal tendencies, but Sord’s citizens wanted better technology while Zenterr was stuck in the middle micromanaging the other countries while ensuring its own prosperity. It was possible for Sord or Zenterr to make a critical mistake as well. The Sect of Maxwell remained in the sidelines, maintaining the peaceful use of Thauma while researching new advances. Did that mean the Sect was an entirely innocent organization? Some dissenters didn’t think so, especially those who escaped from Boreas’ tyranny and testified to being subjected to hideous experiments in some dark, mysterious places. The Sect denied involvement, but some accounts detailed the vividly creepy costumes that thaumaturges were notorious for wearing.

What was going on here? Was the Sect of Maxwell kidnapping people for forbidden research? Were there madmen pretending to be Sect followers while performing these ghastly horrors? Was Boreas’ oligarchy hiring rogue Sect followers to develop forbidden technology? Or were either of the other nations hiring these people to try and lay the blame on Boreas, thereby creating a reason to go to war? Nothing was certain. The only fact was that people were suffering in the name of science. Coupled with the fragile peace that Sephira struggled to maintain, it would only be a matter of time before something catastrophic happened…

**

Melvin – outskirts of Izumo

A temple nearby the sleepy fishing village of Izumo sat upon a hill overlooking the ocean from the south and the rolling plains that stretched far into the north. Izumo was the southernmost town in the entire continent, resting right at the tip of Sord’s southern coast. This was as far away from Boreas’ political control as one could get on Sephira, and Sord’s own government didn’t enforce too many policies upon its citizens aside from typical curfew bylaws and encouraging everyone to stay inside at night. Even so, the Sect of Maxwell still maintained its presence here by installing small roadside temples that also doubled as boarding lodges for tired travelers.

Right now though, the temple closest to Izumo was on the verge of catching fire. The small blaze started on the south side of the building, but spread quickly over the old wood cabin and tiny chapel attached next door. A young man wearing a thick coat and hood stepped back to briefly admire his handiwork before retreating into the darkness. He ran as fast as he could until he reached a simple horse-pulled hay cart with two other accomplices sitting inside the cart awaiting the arsonist’s arrival.

He climbed into the cart just as the wheelman commanded the horse to move. As they sped across the bumpy road, the young man peeled off his hooded coat and gasped, “Damn, this thing is just too stuffy for my taste.”

“How did it go, Melvin? Were you able to burn that house of heretics down?” one of his accomplices asked.

“The place is burning as we speak. I don’t know if anyone is still inside, but if a thaumaturge or two is killed, that would be awesome.” Melvin leaned back, his knee-length lavender hair rushing in the wind of the moving cart.

Unlike the other two accomplices, his eyes had black sclera and slit purple irises, making him look like an alien. He didn’t wear a shirt, exposing the world to the many cuts and scars on his upper body and arms as proof of his difficult life up to this point. Melvin also had his Efreet and Lorelei Thaumae tattooed on the right side of his body from his cheek all the way down to his right foot. Otherwise, he just had a purple hakama and traditional oriental sandals, with a pair of short twin axes attached to his criss-cross belt.

Melvin continued, “Tonight was a smashing success, but don’t let it get to your heads. The Sect won’t give a damn about losing some backwater temple. Before you know it, another one will spring up to take its place. We just need to keep this pace up. Soon enough, our efforts will be rewarded.”

“You sure that little strikes like these will make any impact? We might just be common thugs to the common populace, but how is that going to inspire anyone to ask questions about the Sect?”

“I don’t bloody care if we’re seen as terrorists. What we want is for people to ask why we’re attacking. There’s no doubt that some folks will want to ask what our purpose is. When they do, that’s when we can tell them what we went through at the Sect’s hands. We might be branded as villains, but everyone already hates us just for our races. As far as this society is concerned, there’s no worse sin than existing as someone who’s ‘different’. There’s nothing we can do that would cause society to hate us even more, so we might as well lash out against the real enemy and expose their crimes to the world. If anything, it will inspire some folks to think with their heads for a change.”

“I know what you’re saying, but society is very difficult to enforce change upon. We can’t force others to think the way we do. If they don’t accept our opinion, it’d be easy for them to just ignore us.”

“I get that,” Melvin nodded contritely. “But while opinions can be ignored, the truth is absolute. If the masses don’t respond to the truth, then maybe this world is better off heading towards death and despair. Yeah I say that, but I really don’t want that to happen. I want to do what I can to open everyone’s eyes to the Sect’s activities before it reaches that point. If I become Public Enemy #1 for it, then so be it. At least I can finally live my life the way I want to, not how the Sect and a bunch of stuffy politicians tell me to.”

Xoven-Sord

The room was filled with weapons of all sorts. He was very proud of them and that is why they typically sold at twice the cost of making each one. It was the end of a long day and usually he would of left the shop by now, but he was thinking of expanding it and being among the merchandise usually helped his ideas flow.

Tonight though, was not his night and he hadn't managed to put together two single ideas to help expand his business. Well like the saying goes, tomorrow is another day.

He had already sent his two helpers home, for the day. The reason being as much as he likes getting work done, he didn't like to pay overtime hours.. Not to mention he wanted to get some shut eye himself. So he quickly counted the cash and locked it in the safe at the back of his shop, making sure to reset the lock to zero before he left it.

He then grabbed his weapons and strapped them to his back, exiting the shop via the front door and locking it behind him.

One thing was great about walking at night and that was the stars, they always seemed to fill the sky with their beauty.

He started the twenty minute walk home, making sure to keep his eyes open. It seemed pretty quiet tonight. There was no fires, no voices and frankly no one. He kept on walking, humming to himself out of boredom.

And then something caught his eye, he turned to his left and between two buildings at the end of an alleyway, a man in armor, sword strapped to his waist and bearing a torch marched over to him.

"What do you think your doing out at this hour, elf?"

Xoven's brows raised a little at the question, "Heading home after managing my business. Is there something wrong with doing this?"

"Nothing wrong with it. Just curious is all and you better be quick about where you go, because travelling anywhere during the night is asking for trouble."

"Thank's for the warning," was Xoven's curt reply.

The armored man nodded to him and then continued east, away and out of sight. Xoven watched him go and then continued home.

He quickened his pace and arrived home shortly.. Fumbling for his key's and upon getting inside he locked the door and shuttered all the windows.

That was new. He either was a good fake or that man was a watch man, employed to hopefully remove crime from Sord. Either way, I didn't think things were that bad to need people like that about... He shook his head with worry occupying his mind more then anything else. He decided to quickly sleep it off and he collapsed on his mattress in his work clothes. Fortunately he fell asleep within moments.

The fell beast's shred of flesh slid, then fell from the red-bathed metal of the pole-arm where it had clung to. Moments later, its limp body dropped to the ground like a rotten fruit. Under the dim light of the night, there stood the figure of a man dressed in hood and cloak. Sighing quietly, he straightened his stance and rested the pole of his weapon over his shoulder, the blood flowing down its blade warm still.

The man rotated his head to look over to the distance, beyond the sea of trees surrounding him. In one particular direction, dim light and smoke had begun cascading upwards, and into the night-time sky. Both direction and distance was about right. Not quite Izumo, thought the man. But not quite far, either. He quickly pieced together what had happened, and wondered what would've become of him right now had he'd put effort into reaching his destination at the earliest possible time. He'd actually enjoyed the night's air, after all.

The man swiped his pole-arm in a circular arc, cleaning the blade of the blood. He held it so it stood in front of him, blade digging into the grass. The man relaxed his hold, and with the slide of a finger, the weapon began to revert back to a more convenient shape. With a low-sounding hum, both the pole that held the blade and the portion on the other end of the pole-arm sunk into the middle portion. The hooded man pulled his hand back under the cover of his clothing, the now-shorter weapon with it.

"...I should hurry." thought the man. "It shouldn't have escalated to this. At best, someone just decided to burn the midnight candles where their magic mattered. Still..."

He was still a knight of Zenterr, and the Sect of Maxwell was still its ally.

Inhaling, he began stepping forward again, within moments evolving into a quick trek through the silhouette of the trees, leaving behind him thirty different carcasses.

They still failed at staining his clothes.

Deep in the forest of Izumo under sweeping canopies of lush greens a small self-established camp of outcasts and exiles dwell. Close enough to venture toward the town in case supplies were needed though they made due with everyone’s abilities, and did not need much outside resources. In fact, some had grown bitter in their isolation and preferred steering clear of humanity. Many had been celebrated in some fashion during their life in civilization meaning some were impressive hunters while others used their Thauma for more practical tasks. In some way they had flown above the council’s radar and endangered their lives or that of their families. Narrowly escaping harm and luckily finding their way to others who experienced a similar fate.

Campfires were managed by Efreet wielders during the night while the more offensive users took turns keeping watch. Usually nightfall remained ever so peaceful and sometimes was celebrated with singing and dances to lift the moral and spirits of the oppressed. Lately the forest creatures stirred uncomfortably like a worrisome omen, and others could not help but feel a bit unnerved as well. A tall slender elf sat silently upon a fallen birch with pale pink colored tresses resting against upward arching shoulder armor outlined with thin gold plating. Lucid aquamarine colored eyes were gazing into the memorizing flames illuminating the dim area as she pondered past memories. How soon the tide changes she thought, and how one can be swept up in the current...and drown.

“Lumen!” A sudden plea resounded through the trees and seemed to echo into camp. “Lumen!” The same voice called out and this time stirred the pale elf to stand. Closer the sound of rushing footsteps emerged through the picturesque backdrop. Many bodies were carrying what looked like other wounded individuals in their arms covered with traces of sticky blood. Lumen signaled for the helpers to place the small injured group down onto the moss kissed ground while she raised her twisted wooden staff into the air. "Hurtless circle" she whispered and a tiny beam emitted above, which expanded to a massive sphere of azure and white blinding light. Two broad circles of the same colors began swirling below the damaged before the large sphere expended rays of light healing all.

“Non-elves who have escaped the hands of the council.” A lean male human said after the ritual had commenced.

“Rallying most likely, when will they learn?” Lumen replied shaking her head in discontentment but then something else got her attention. She raised her head toward the sky and inhaled while her crystalline eyes narrowed. If the sky had not been so clear the smoke would have surly gone unnoticed, and the slight breeze had managed to sweep the smog over the forest just enough.

“I am going into the village Mathias, something is not right.”

“What about the curfew Lumen—“

“Mathias, look over the newcomers and awaken Lendel. Have him take watch. Perhaps now is the time for me to take my leave of you. Thank you, for everything you have done. I am going to search for some answers, regardless if the smoke is a sign or not. Tell the others not to search for me.” With that she sprinted into the direction of the town to further investigate, and would not stop until reaching the outskirts.

Ugh where did he go? Lucas thought while cracking his neck. It was dark out and the only light he had was a lantern tied around his waist. He had on a red cloak that covered him completely and also had his hood on. As the moon hid behind clouds, the fire inside the lantern began to die out and he could barely see his surroundings. "Oh come on." Luke murmured. "This is the second time so far..." He reached for the lantern around his waist and began to loosen the strap. He brought the lantern up with his left and put his right index finger inside of it. After a deep breath, Luke concentrated some of his energy into his finger. The back of his clothes began to light up, for his Fire Thauma was engraved on his back and lit up at the use of his fire magic. His finger shot a flame that filled up the lantern and eliminated the dark that surrounded him for a few yards.

In that instant of lighting the lantern, Luke could see the remains of a dead beast laying by a tall tree. I think I'm going the right way. Luke thought as he approached the dead monster. When he got closer he could only see more dead bodies behind the tree. Yeah, this is definitely the right way. He brought a faint smile to his face from the thought. He stopped to observe the dead monsters and looked around to see if there were anymore left. The beasts' had wounds that showed that they were impaled by some sort of spear while also having slashes in fatal areas. Luke got up and began to tie the lantern back around his waist.

Well.....Now to find the killer. What was his name again?

Lucas had joined the Zenterr military in his teenage years and quickly rose the ranks with his outstanding skill and quick thinking. Of course, he had to change his name so that he wouldn't be compared to his dead father who was also part of the Zenterr military. His hard work had earned him a promotion to the Crimson Eagle division which he had joined only a month ago. Other knights don't think he belongs in such high ranks due to his young age, but they quickly accept it after seeing his skill and ability to follow orders. This was his first mission as a Crimson Eagle and he had already lost his selected partner on the field.

So much for a first impression.. Luke had finished walking over the dead monsters in his way and noticed more then just clouds in the sky. Past all the trees in front of him, was a small light with smoke going into the clouds above. Also, in the same direction, Luke could see a silhouette of a man with some sort of pole-arm. He watched as the man did a fancy trick with his weapon, causing it to become smaller and then hiding it. The man was hooded, like himself, and seeing him could only remind him of who he was looking for.

"Hey!" Luke said loud enough hopefully for the man to here, but not to bring any unwanted attention. He began to jog towards him, making sure the lantern was tightly fastened on his waist while also keeping his weapon secretly hidden in case this man wasn't who he expected it to be. Luke caught up to the man while letting out a few breaths from the light jog. "Sorry about that. I was....caught up in something." he explained, hoping not to be scolded by his superior.

A ran-down farm of sord that bred horses lay, cuddled in the trees that cast darker shadows than the mask of midnight would bestow. A sniffle of distant whinnies and snorts accompanied the night, the barn of which the owners lived in shed no bright lights or guard dogs to sway thieves from a valuable resource- horses. Deimos hummed softly to the Raven steed she’d planned to “permanently borrow’ from a ranch she’d laid eyes upon from a forestry path she traveled often alone for awhile, studying the patterns of the whereabouts of the owners and horses. Eventually, she picked out one horse, strikingly magnificent with well-built legs and a humble personality. It wasn't difficult to put her thieving skill into action as the tamed horse came quietly, tempted by the bunch of carrots she hid under her cape. Her soft, slender fingers stroked the furry cheek of the tall breast which snorted it’s compliance with the half-elf, tenderly taking the bridle she supplied. “Good. I’ll think of a name for you.”

Wrapping one shaky hand in the horse's curly mane, she hoisted her thin body upon onto the animal, pressing her legs into the animal’s side in case the unpredictable animal wasn’t as tame as she thought he was. The horse subtly looked back at the wide-eyed girl upon his back and turned his attention to a tree, which seemed more entertaining at the time. Did this horse just look at her with disapproval? Deimos’s stomach clenched with nervousness despite the numerous times the half-elf has stolen without being caught- there was certainly a first time for everything. She never stole out of pride or excessive want, she stole because it was the best way a half-elf could make a living anywhere, in her eyes . She received a monthly pension from her elder parents every month after she’d grown old enough to leave the house. They never gauged her time to leave by age, but rather how well they believed the half-elf would be able to avoid hunters. Deimos was quick and stealthy on her feet, however, such a horse would travel five times as fast as she. With the increasing intelligence and income of the government, she had begun to spot even more hunter parties utilizing war horses. She laid a hand on the horse’s flank and cued him forwards- this animal could be her life.

Clop, clop, clop The thundering of the beast’s hooves fell naturally under the blonde half-elf. Deimos constantly raised a hand to pull up her hood to hide her human-elfish ears, pulling down an eye patch over the eye that shinned a bizarre purple under the moonlight. She wore an elegant red and gold cloak that streamed behind her in the wind, flashing a short green elven skirt and sleeves with bracers that had darker green ends. Cover her lower body was a short green elven skirt with a small white cloth and a belt with four leaf clovers and a four leaf, celtic-designed clover buckle. Her thin, pale legs trickled from her waist, meeting her thigh-high elven boots. Thick blonde-silver hair flowed out of her hood, whisking through the hair currents violently as she rode away from the farm, through a path she never took before. So honed in on her successful steal, her surroundings were but a blur to the teenage girl, and the incoming horse cart on a narrow path seemed to come out of nowhere to the oblivious half-elf. She had enough time to see the one of the rider’s eyes- a black sclera and slit purple irises before her own eyes would clench close and pull back on the reins of her new steed. The horse shirked, skidding into the cart regardless of his owner’s cues. Deimos was jolted forwards, forced to clutch onto the beast’s rippling shoulders. Odd how she had not feared the injuries of such a crash but rather who she crashed into. Their cart would receive no more than a dent and their own frightened horse- Deimos pulling her horse to a halt had worked, halfway. They were at a dead stop. She connected eyes with both the cart’s occupants while smelling the distant, stinging burn of a fire, a funnel of smoke she spot would raise into the atmosphere.

"My bad. Quite a mysterious, dark night.” She spat out a dull apology, blinking her one red eye as the other was covered by an eyepatch , shoving her hood back over her head and preparing to slam her heels into her steed.

The man stopped himself in his tracks, resting a foot upon the aged root of a tree. Under the cover of his hood, his lips curved into an emblem of wary dislike. After all, he felt that from how the strongly-red hair youth had been acting, their missions were two different things. Either that, or the young man was secretly a master of deception far more skilled than anyone he's encountered before, which seemed more unlikely than being assigned to keep an eye on him. But if so, then who? His own task was dubious enough as it is. Having him around only made things more difficult. The man supposed he'd just have to plan by the circumstances, whenever that bridge came along. For the moment, he spun around just quickly enough that he'd be telling of the fact that they should get a move on.

"It doesn't matter." answered Seth, not bothering to drop his hood. Luke's expression seemed honest enough, and he knew the youth was a good kid, but still left enough doubt to feel that his definition of 'something' was an unhealthy one for the lancer. Nonetheless, he knew that at the time he needed to reprimand Luke for something else, and entirely necessary. "There was no need to have called out to me. Everything you're doing is just attracting something else to their deaths. The ecosystem of this forest is shaky enough as it is, putting aside how you fared while we were separated." said the older man. "You're not confident of your senses enough, for being a Crimson Eagle." Seth continued, turning his back to Luke again. There was a slight pause as he became divided on how to proceed with his mission, and he wondered how things would proceed from then on. He'd decided that the subject of their mission would best be left a (hopefully) mutual illusion for now. Addressing it would inevitably be at one point down the road.

"Let's not waste any more time. A temple of the Sect near Izumo could have been set on fire, and whoever behind it could still be in the area. That's where we're need to go." said Seth, and he started moving forward again, regardless of whether Luke immediately follows or not.

"Hey, watch where you're going, lady!" Melvin angrily barked at Deimos, sauntering out of the cart and approaching the half-elf on her horse, his alien black eyes slanted with annoyance. "What the hell were you doing standing in the middle of the road like that? It might be midnight, but there's still traffic to watch out for!"

"Dude, chill out," his friend implored. "We just barely missed each other. As long as no one's hurt, there's no point in getting so angry."

"If she does that again, it won't be my problem if she gets killed!"

Melvin huffed angrily, then glanced back at the rising smoke from the temple he just laid ablaze. Noticing that Deimos was looking in that general direction as well, he realized that he needed to make a quick cover story. If he didn't, he was afraid that she would suspect them of being arsonists, especially since they were leaving the area in such a hurry.

Damn bimbo! Why did she have to pop out at the worst possible time!? the dark elf angrily thought as he put his improvisational skills to work. Aloud, he exclaimed, "Crap! I don't have time to be screwing around like this! I need to get to Izumo to find help! Get out of the way, woman! I'm in a hurry!"

Melvin and his crew scurried back aboard the cart, and their horse whinnied as the horseman commanded it to move.

As the lone figure stood on the hill looking at the carnage below,he justified his actions with"it's not like they were innocent...They'd do the same to me if they had the chance."He tried to convince himself but he still didn't feel any better. The bandits he killed didn't have much of value on them,just a few trinkets, baubles,and a few hides.He thought to himself "at least they had some supply's on them,i should be able to last a few days with this.maybe find a town or something" at the thought of going into a town he felt a heavy sadness,remembering the way he's usually greeted when people realize he's a dark elf.Pushing that thought aside he tightened his hood,and strolled down the hill in the direction he was originally travelling before he found the bandits.he had walked for about six hours before noticed the smell of smoke in the air,at that he chose to walk towards the wind hoping to find a settlement of some kind.

This forest resembled a maze one had to carefully navigate through in fear of accidentally losing their way. The sprightly elf knew these identical timbers like the back of her hand since spending nearly every waking minuet living in them. Her agile body leaped over and ducked under low bearing branches and vine like roots till eventually reaching the final clearing of trees. Blades of grass spanned a vast open pathway to the tiny Izumo village resting soundly. In the horizon smoke bellowed upward from an ancient temple painting the sky with flecks of burning ash. It was a wonder no one seemed to notice this event but like Mathias had stated a curfew system was currently in place here.

Lumen remained cautious unsure of what to expect from the village for she had never paid a visit to this place during the nighttime hours. Thinking it unwise to simply walk through the center road and along the traditional style houses made of bamboo, the nearly camouflaged elf remained along the outskirts of the forest. She progressed as stealthily as one could with a towering wooden staff and inched closer to the location of the burning shrine. She finally found the opportunity to sprint toward the clear land while avoiding the lax patrol where the Sect stood ablaze. Upon arrival the roaring flames seemed to surround and disorient her even from standing a fair enough distance away. No signs of life seemed to struggle or scream from inside the dwelling so far or perhaps she simply did not make it in time.

Was this a declaration of war?

Deimos’s horse scraped his hoof against the pavement nervously as the dark elf sauntered towards them in a steam of fury. She felt the same, unsettling nerve, inside of her gut as he chastised her harshly, although her expression remained composed and clam. Maybe it was the fact that she was on a 1500 pound animal that she felt no need to flee into the night. She scrunched her noise as the smell of the fire worsened, a few black floating particles from the fire would fall onto her shoulders and crumble into a black sand. Before his friend could implore his own urgency, she responded with a scowl. “ Agree to disagree, boy , it looks as if I’m not the only one out on the road at midnight who wasn’t watching for traffic. It's Deimos, by the way.“

Deimos paused her own speech when his friend had interrupted, cooling the tensions between the two. She ignored Melvin's next remark, catching wind that there was nothing wrong if no one ended up hurt, and that there were people getting hurt in the fire the longer they all stayed stagnant. The crew all scrambled back for the cart, but her eyes stayed connected to the dark elf- his cuts, scars, his dark, arrogant nature. As far as Deimos knew, his intentions were set to help others but she had always imagined ‘heroes’ to be more….appealing to a lighter, holier nature. She waited in silence and stillness as a few seconds ticked by of their cart departing the place of the accident. Deimos wasn’t sure if that was an invitation to follow and help or get lost. her intentions of staying would be a mix of suspicion, moving the stolen horse farther from his home, and the aiding of the fire.

She said up straighter on her horse, cueing him forward at the same pace they were going after side stepping in the forest as a possible cover in a way to follow them silently- her horse could blend in with the night, while her green armor would work as camouflage in the trees. They moved along on bunches of grass and wheat, which muffled the footsteps greater than horseshoe against pavement. If they had still sensed her presence, she would throw the crew a delightful smile while her eyes would sit coldly on Melvin, awaiting for an invitation to join him and his ‘good intentions’. If anyone, only he would be able to sense of suspicion. Her red eye danced in the moonlight, her pupil dilating as it said ‘I know what you did.’

Melvin sat back and gave an annoyed huff. "Wasn't expecting something like that."

"You think she'll follow us?" his buddy wondered worriedly.

"No way," the horseback rider joked. "That chick was hot, but even she wouldn't want to put up with the boss when he's in a foul mood."

"Shut it," Melvin snapped. His friends chuckled at his expense as he stared afar. Thanks to his Lorelei Thauma, he was able to pick up sounds that those without one would otherwise miss. Thus, Melvin's keen sense of hearing allowed him to catch the galloping of Deimos' horse in the distance. The dark elf frowned and narrowed his eyes.

Maybe she didn't buy that story I fed her...

"What's wrong, man?" the rider asked. "I know you're eager to get back to base before the authorities catch up to us, but it won't do you any good to be so tense."

"Sorry, but we can't go straight back to the cellar. That woman is following us."

"Seriously!? Wouldn't she be just heading back to Izumo like we are?"

"Her horse is running parallel to us, and its pace is the same as ours. If she wanted to go to Izumo on her own, she would've definitely beaten us to it."

"Bloody hell... What should we do?"

Melvin spit off to the side and muttered, "As much as I hate having to help the Sect, we need to keep our ruse up 'til we shake her off. One of us will report to the authorities. I sure as hell can't since I'm so freaky-looking - societ as a whole already rejects half-elves, and don't get me started on what they'd do to dark elves like me."

"I'll do it," his half-elf friend offered. "I've become drinking buddies with a few of the constables in Izumo. You two can head back to the stables first."

"Sounds good. We're only getting started with our manifesto, so we can't afford any slip-ups at this time."

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to shout... Luke thought as he was scolded by his Crimson Eagle partner. I'm starting to make our division look bad. Maybe I should get closer to Seth? The man started to walk and Luke quickly walked up with him. "Sorry. I'll be more careful next time." Luke said with a slightly sad tone. "Actually, there won't be a next time." He started to cheer himself up.

"So....." Luke tried to make conversation. They were almost to their destination, the flames on the building looked serious from their point of view. "...how long have you been with the military?" Luke wanted to be close with his partner. After leaving all his military friends in Zenterr, it would be best to make new ones on his current journey. "If you don't mind me asking." He didn't want to be a bother to the man. After-all, he had already left a bad first impression on the man.

"What's wrong, man?...I know you're eager to get back to base before the authorities catch up to us…. As much as I hate having to help the Sect, we need to keep our ruse up 'til we shake her off. One of us will report to the authorities. I sure as hell can't since I'm so freaky-looking … We're only getting started with our manifesto”

---

Blood thundered in Deimos’s ears as her own lorelei thauma pulled in the conversation among the cart, processing this as she was lulled to a silence by the eruption of surefooted hooves under her. They were aware of her, which she was rather surprised of but still expected. She pressed her pink lips together as she rode harder, multiple places on her body showing a paler white as she rode harder. Her whole body was being to be fatigued of the riding, it felt like small needles were stabbing her leg muscles keeping her on with each stride of the horse.

They’re trying to shake me off, run from the authorities yet go to them. They do not feel comfortable going to the ‘cellar’, whatever that is in my presence. They’re running from something, a bigger threat than I. Her thoughts hissed, trying to automatically pin them guilty for something she was unaware of. She was no detective as doubt still clouded her mind, there was nothing they said that gave her 100% proof they had done something wrong.

“ What if they did something bad? Why should this matter to me? I am already rejected as a species as far as I know, I could be killed for ratting on them….What even encourages me to act like a ‘good’ civilian when I’m sure as hell I’m neutral, on middle grounds? Every women for herself.” Clutching a chunk of her horses mane, a frustrated sigh hissed between her teeth as she spoke to herself. Leaving all of those questions unanswered as all she had time for, making her sole intention to not let the dark elf out of her sight- she didn’t even know what she was going to say. As of now, the trees were blocking the sight of the cart and they already knew they were being followed. She yanked her horse’s reins to the side. The animal responded, bolting and jumping through a group of bushes. She grunted out of pain with the hard landing and the lack of the saddle but nonetheless, gained speed towards the cart, eventually surfacing at the distance of around 20 feet. Her cape whipped behind her, revealing a red and black flute clipped to her waist. The fingers of one hand brushed against this instrument, unknown to others that this was her choice of weapon. She rode silently, seeing if the cart would respond in aggression to her presence and knowing they were a danger just as much as her knowledge could be to them.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to help.” She droned darkly to Melvin alone with a sadistic smile, as if she was a villain herself. Nothing she said would give clear signals whether her intentions would be negative or in their favor, the words conflicting with her eerie tone.

"Quite an spectacle, isn't it?" Asks a voice of Lumen, her tone lacking in any subtlety restraint under the cover of the dark or in respect for the burning catastrophe before her. Should she look back, she'd soon find approaching at an easy pace the figure of a half elf... identified as such by the characteristic ears, a lot longer than humans yet shorter than an elf's, by her raven black human hair in combination with the slim elfin physique. The half elven woman walked in dark, sturdy boots, a light black dress reaching a bit past her knees, though slitted on the sides to allow more mobility. Above the dress she wore a hard leather cuirass and a belt from which a short blade and some pouches hung. Her arms were covered in long half gloves, reinforced with hard leather and a bit of dark metal to protect her forearm. To finish the outfit, from her shoulders hung a short cape, dark in color like the rest of her outfit, which reached just a bit past her waist.

The stranger approached until she stood by Lumen's side, bringing an arm up to shield her golden eyes of the glare of the flames as she leaned forward for a better view "Wow, I didn't think anyone in this area had the stones to actually do something this serious" she says in an amused tone of voice before turning to look up at Lumen, a small glint in her eyes "It comes to show that there are mad men and women everywhere without exception. I'm guessing you don't have an Undine Thauma, right?"

A soft voice barely audible over the towering flames which nearly screamed with rage interrupted but as the mysterious being approached Lumen remained calm. As peculiar as it was the pink haired elf did not appear surprised that another had taken notice and decided to view the display. She did not cast turquoise tinted eyes toward the woman until she was within arm’s length, and only then noticed the petite lady in onyx’s race. A half-elf. Only a couple of years ago Lumen would have arched a brow in disgust for being addressed by any non-elf. Time had indeed changed and though she put trust in few she did not mind the company of others anymore.

The lightly armored elf nodded before responding with a curt tone. “I do. This symbol of haltered is almost too intense to smother--unfortunately it would be in the best interest to extinguish the flames before they reach either the forest or town.” After a brief second of realizing how crude it would be to leave the dwelling to perish she sighed. "Very well then..." She added pointedly.

A hand raised the intertwined branches fashioning the wooden staff high into the air. The item remained for a moment building momentum for the spell to charge before she shouted ”Downpour” at the rapidly enveloped building. Bountiful amounts of water began drenching down the crevices of the temple, and pretty soon the fire’s cry was replaced by a waterfall of crystal water. Heat which reached out for their faces and threatened to burn them should they near began to cool down, and eventually quell. Twice in one night she had already used Thauma to aid people who she owed nothing to, and was left feeling unsettled about these decisions and the uncertainty of their outcome.

Mobius smiled darkly, he had been tracking this particular group of bandits for a few weeks now, they had no idea that he had been stalking them. He couldn't help but wonder how, he had made a few mistakes but then again these louts were nothing compared to what he was used to, he stopped sidling behind a tree for cover as one looked back suddenly, torch in hand. A few barks from their raid leader got him moving again, and the man in black armor followed after them, moving almost as silent as the wind. They finally made it to what Mobius had been waiting for, a wooded walled bandit fort, nothing a few soldiers couldn't tear down, but it no doubt kept most people away due to the grisly sight, heads mounted on pikes outside, denoting the few who tried to either take the stronghold, or like Mobius himself were mercenaries sent to end their looting of these lands. Merchants, nobles, many people have been mugged on the roads passing from the small riverside village to the bustling city farther north. Mobius unslung his swordstaff and looked around, there were no discernible paths to enter undetected, he wondered how he'd get in now... Mobius surveyed the encampment, he found his chance when the one guard fell asleep and the other left to go to relieve himself, he was then able to get in, slit the one man's throat and leave him sleeping with his head down. The other was coming back and made a few wisecracks to his comrade, leaning closer the man notices the red all over the others chest and hauberk and before he could let out any sound the weighted end of Mobius' staff smashed over the man's skull, unfortunately with a loud sounding crack. He cursed under his breath and made for a nearby tent, easily strangling the bandit inside. Luckily no one but the bandit he just killed heard the crack and he continues his stealthy approach towards the heart of the camp.

The chief and his second in command were both barking orders to other bandits, wanting to check in on the two at the front gate, that would make it harder for Mobius as they will sound the alarm any second now, might as well get it over with, the mercenary stands up and walks out of the shadows, and starts fighting the bandits, he kileld the archers quickly by throwing a few of the bandits own weapons. He made short work of these untrained bastards, he slowly stalked the bandit chief who was running and making a lot of noise and leaving a ton of easy trail markers, it's like he is either leading me into a trap or He's just too scared to be sneaky. Mobius decided to go around the path the man was going, and decided to head him off farther up the path, he saw the man waiting with a crossbow trained on where he thought Mobius would be, the mercenary stealthy moves away and slams the weighted end towards the man shoulder, he barely moves the crossbow in the line of the attack, the weapon breaks under the force as the two men clash. Mobius swinging the sword staff in a deadly and intricate arc while the bandit unslings his own weapon, a two handed battleaxe, and tries to keep the mercenary's weapon out of reach. It was obvious from the get go that Mobius was going to kill this man, the man's weeping fear and rage induced swings would never hit the agile mercenary as he made small cuts on the man's body and arms, after a while of slowly bleeding the man, Mobius decided to end the battle and impaled the man on the bladed end and using his beast arte slams the man through a tree and into the ground. He takes the man's armor, signifying that he indeed killed the man and his bandit entourage and, making his way to the road started his trek back to the city.

The next day Mobius turned in the bandit chief's armor and collected his bounty, he walked along the city for awhile yawning as he did so, he figured it was about time to head to the inn so he could get some shut eye. Despite it being daylight outside he headed for the inn and payed for a room, there he set his staff leaning against the wall near the bed, took his boots and armor off and fell onto the bed, he was tired from the past week of tracking his prey, and finally ending their miserable lives, he nodded off without a second thought.

.

(This is annoying)

.(dunno what the hell happened here)