[IC] Edged Horizon

[Psyker Landshark]

Right now, Fion was of mixed opinions. On one hand, Fion Meyer actually existed in the records, so coming down here wasn't a waste of time after all. On the other hand, the demented little girl in his dreams seemed to be telling the truth. That probably wouldn't end well for him. Regardless, he shook his head and gathered together all of the documents he had found related to the girl before sitting down to read them over.

From what he had discovered, Fion Meyer was the daughter of two army sergeants that had fought in the Talentless Strife. The Meyer family had once been a renowned family like the Seyours...were. Only that they were more famed for their magic than their military service. The Meyer family's magical might had once been passed down through selective inbreeding, but that practice seemed to have stopped a few generations before Fion's. Their mages had the particular quirk of only being able to use a single element of magic, completely unable to use any other. Of course, the significance of this didn't escape Fion. He himself was incapable of using any elemental magic besides wind.

The Meyer line had died with Fion Meyer, who had been left an orphan after both of her parents were slain during the final weeks of the Talentless Strife. She had been placed under the care of one Gael Ericsson before being transported out of Cykes to the town of Burrow, which had been constructed to be a refugee shelter for victims of the Strife. However, the girl had never made it to Burrow. A bridgeside accident pushed the carriage into the river. The bodies were recovered by a hunting party led by a mage by the name of...Tanith Seyour. She had been unable to resuscitate the girl, and personally oversaw her burial in the Meyer family cemetery north of Cykes out of a sense of responsibility for the lives lost in the accident.

"What." He uttered out loud in disbelief. That didn't make sense. As far as he knew, his mother had never used any magic whatsoever. Hell, the woman used an ordinary steel sword rather than talentium. And yet this report claimed that Tanith Seyour had been a mage. This would need looking into, right alongside the Meyer thing. Fortunately, he could do both right here in the census archives. The Meyer report had also mentioned the girl being taken care of by a Gael Ericsson. That was a lead he could look into here. If this person was still alive, Fion could track him down later. Knowing his luck, though, Ericsson probably died in the attack last night.

And he would have to stay here to search the records on his mother anyway. With the entire Seyour family deceased, or at best missing, Fion couldn't exactly ask any of them if his mother had actually been a mage. With this in mind, he began searching for records on both Gael Ericsson and Tanith Seyour.

[Click This]

What is he, some kind of magical jack-fucking-in-the-hat magician?

What a pansy, but it seemed Chad would have some rabbit magic trick distraction instead of… something more accountable. At best, it probably gave Lyra one less thing to do.
“Even with a three kilometer head start, things can and will go wrong,” countered Chad, remaining in his even-toned diplomatic voice. “I just hope your distraction is enough to keep anything that does go wrong at bay.”

As the conversation over the plan of action continued back and forth, the airship, struggling but still afloat, made its way over a small mountain range. In the distance was the distinctive towers and spires of Koestace, the fortress capital of Astopol, and their staging point for their little raid on the mountainside prison.

“Well,” said Chad. “I think we should get prepared. And more importantly, out how to get this damn thing down without crashing in a fiery red fireball or drawing the attention of the entirety of the city's garrison to ourselves.”

[ERode]

Escellar stopped for a moment, almost surprised by his old friend's aggressive denial of ever having any relationship with the elf. The janitor, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere that had developed, slid off somewhere else, leaving Escellar and Eldren to their own devices. But the expression of slight hurt and confusion lasted only for a moment on the elf's face. It was reasonable to expect that a race that only lives a century or less would have an incompetent ability to remember faces and names as well. After all, twelve or so years was much more for a human that it was for an elf. And Eldren always was a rough person. It wouldn't surprise the airship captain that he'd have grown even rougher during the years. No doubt, the trials of parenthood had hardened Eldren. Human children were insufferable little beasts, after all.

Nevertheless, the mage did make good points, and tipping his hat, Escellar acknowledged those words, before replying, “Well, I see that you've done quite some research, Eldren. However, there are a few important details you seemed to have not taken to account. First, the wyvern, which is our main target for the mission, absorbed talentium upon contact, but could still be injured or, at least, obstructed by other physical means. The same could be inferred of from magic. If, per chance, you were to use a spell to take existing stone and strike the rift beast with it, would it not sustain injury?”

Escellar then stopped, looking at the janitor, before returning his gaze to the ragtag man in front of him. “Secondly, the fundamental creation of talentium and steel swords are the same. While it would be unwieldy if their talentium weapon was a hammer or a spear...it should be quite possible for Sword Skills users to use a steel weapon whilst being empowered by talentium, and thus, would be possible for talentium-users to fight without having their weapons eaten the moment they struck.”

“The Seyour family simply weren't able to reach that conclusion quickly enough. It's a pity, but that can't be changed. I'll leave the decision up to you, Eldren, but surely the Warlock that fought under the Six-Winged Knight could toss a few boulders around, neh?”

[Voltin]

A click of the tongue, and of all things, a smirk were the response given by Riley. "It seems I've been out-researched, but still, I have doubts about a fighting force having a chance against these creatures. Plus, there are so many other questions that need answered... Like who brought them into the city in the first place, and how, in a city full of magic-users, no one was able to sense a spell being cast which was capable of summoning such a vast array of creatures until it was too late. Then there's the culprit's own reason for doing this..." His sentence had trailed off as he bit down on his thumb nail; too many questions and there not being enough answers led to her mind trailing on to any number of possible explanations for all that was happening, but even she knew that wondering could only do so much.

He snapped back to attention with a small glance at his conversation partner. A flush came over his cheeks before coughing and looking away. "I suppose I will come along... but I do have some associates who would be willing to join us; the aforementioned Seyour, as well as one of the crystala. The former I know would not appreciate being left out of the hunt of the thing that killed those few close to him, and the latter, well, this city isn't exactly receptive of any being from Talze Utera lately, so I'm sure he wouldn't want to be left here alone. Not to mention there is one last thing I have left to do before I go anywhere..." Her thoughts turned to her uncle before returning to the elf. "So, what say you, Captain?

[Click This]

Much to Chad’s surprise, and perhaps a bit to Lyra’s own amusement, the landing of the airship did not end in a massive fiery fireball. There was a saying where it was said “Any landing that you can walk away from is a good one.” Chad scoffed at it. Although they didn’t die, the landing was by no means a wonderful one.

That much was evident as they looked at the ruins of the old derelict at the edge of Koestace. They had come down between a forested patch and a clearing, and the ship was half-suspended in the trees, with its nose down and crumpled amongst the grass. But Chad was thankful for the safe landing and Lyra as well, although more likely because of the prospect of finally touching land again.

Fortunately enough, the botched landing put them closer to the fortress where poor Mr. Vance was held, and saved them the potential issue of having to encounter the strict Astopolian customs agents. Rumor had it that they would cavity search a person for the pettiest things, and Chad would have none of that.

Kicking aside a piece of steel beam, Chad turned to the party that made it out of the ship.

“I hope ten minutes was enough time to recover from your air sicknesses. We have a fortress to kill ourselves against.”

[Psyker Landshark]

After some more time digging through the archives, Fion slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temple with his hand as he processed what he had found out. To begin with, Gael Ericsson, the man who had taken the Meyer girl in, had been an orphan himself. He had been adopted by a guardsman on one of the western outposts of Dansila before he'd moved to Cykes to study business. Ericsson had passed through the business school with honors and began working under Corinkarus Courtright after graduation for a time. A number of years later, he'd become quite the successful merchant, and with a large amount of political influence to boot. However, Ericsson had apparently been retired for some time now, having opened up a school for the education of Talze Uteran children.

But while Ericsson's story was interesting, what Fion cared about more at the moment was what he had dug up on his mother. The lady Tanith had married into the Seyour family young as both a talented mage and swordswoman. When her husband, Fion's father, was away, she took over as head of the household and took an active role in the politics of the Sidosa Board. She had been the one that established the alliance between the Seyour and Courtright families through their shared support of the rights of Talze Uteran students. But the most interesting thing was that Tanith Seyour had apparently lost her ability to use magic during the last stages of the Talentless Strife. Notes on her medical records theorized that her failure to save Fion Meyers had been the first step in a psychological breakdown that created some sort of mental block on her ability to draw out her magic. This theory seemed to be supported by the fact that she'd seemed to have named her own son after the girl she'd failed to save. And yet, Fion could find no actual birth records on his mother.

Well, at least he found out that the date Fion Meyer died was only a few months away from the date he'd lost his left arm all those years ago. If anything, it only reinforced his theory that he'd gotten his arm from Meyer. Of course, given that the only person that could answer his questions was most likely dead, it was likely that he'd never actually find out. Still, at least there was Gael Ericsson. If nothing else, he could at least go over and dig up more information on Fion Meyer from him.

Standing back up, Fion turned around and finally left the archives. He'd found Ericsson's address while he'd been digging through the records, and that was his next stop.

___

Half an hour later, Fion stood outside Ericsson's rather impressive house in the merchant district. Raising his arm, he knocked on the door three times and proceeded to wait.

[ERode]

Half an hour later, Fion stood outside Ericsson's rather impressive house in the merchant district. Raising his arm, he knocked on the door three times and proceeded to wait.

It took quite some time before the clicking sounds of an unlocking door could be heard, and then, following that, the door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of a retired politician, merchant, and teacher of Talze Uteran children. Standing a head above Fion, with tufts of blond hair poking out of his bandaged head, the man gestured with his right arm, "You're the last Seyour then?"

His left arm was held in a sling, and his clothes were still crusted with blood. No doubt, he had been very occupied last night.

"Word gets around fast." Fion said neutrally as he looked the man over. Seems he'd suffered quite a bit during the attack. "You know what I'm here for, then?" He asked, getting right down to business. After everything that had happened, he had no more patience left for small talk.

"No, I have no idea why you're here, unless you've gone the black sheep to part of the mob," Gael replied, mirroring Fion's flatness of tone, "You don't look like someone stupid enough to think that kids could summon monsters though. Don't prove me wrong."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm not here to kill any Talze Uterans." Fion shrugged with his remaining arm. "No, I'm here about Fion Meyer. The girl that was under your care for a while? Died after my mother couldn't save her?"

A small bit of surprise entered Gael's expression as he heard of this. Crossing his free arm over to the back of his neck, he scratched an itch, thinking for a moment. "What exactly did you want to know? Seems like you have plenty of facts already."

"Just one thing, since my mother's not around to tell me." Fion raised his left and only remaining arm. "Is this her's?"

"And how would I know that? The Meyer child was buried, and she had all her limbs attached during the funeral. And the Meyer family cemetary is protect by three layers of magical protections, rune magic that's inscribed on the fences that surround it. However..." Opening the door slightly wider, then, Gael tilted his head inwards, as if gesturing Fion to come inside.

Fion followed him in, slightly disappointed at the answer he'd received so far. All her limbs attached during the funeral? Damn. Now it was highly unlikely that Meyers' arm was the one attached to him. His mother could have dug the body up, but that was a long shot. Of course, given that he was going to do so before Gael mentioned the magical defenses...
Regardless, he followed Gael inside, intrigued at what the old man had to say.

The living room of that tall building was largely empty, save for half a dozen identical chairs. There were sprays of blood decorating the walls, as well as shattered glass and tilted photo frames, but other than that, the dim room was empty. The sounds of thumps, presumably footsteps, could be heard on the floor above, and, sitting on one of the chairs with a sigh, the heavily built man asked, "What was the answer about the origins of your left arm in the past?"

Fion frowned as he took the seat opposite Gael. "They told me that they'd gotten it off a dying girl." He said, his eyes flashing down to his arm. "When I was eight. I know that there's a fallacy here. They told me I got the arm from some other girl in the nursery that died in the attack." He sighed, bracing himself for Gael's reaction after the next thing he said. "Now, this is perfectly logical. I completely believe this except for one thing: there's a little girl by the name of Fion Meyers showing up in my dreams and trying to murder me. And before you ask, no. I'm not crazy. This has happened plenty of times now. Believe what you will, but that's my explanation."

"Hm..." mused Gael, dropping back into deep thought, "And what did that girl look like? Has it happened plenty of times over the course of your life, or has this been happening more and more often?"

"Furthermore...what has changed during all this?"

"Brunette, young. Around the age when she died, I suppose." Fion replied, surprised that Gael had actually believed him. "And it started happening after the Bakery Town incident. You've heard of it, right? I was there for that whole mess. My left arm started seizing up and I started dreaming about a little girl trying to bite my head off after that."

The Bakery Town incident. Two casualties who were reported to be regulars at the Bureau in Illiserev, as well reported sightings of a vampire and an odd occurence in which, while initial reports sighted only a singular rift-beast heading to Bakery Town, two separate crystals were seen.

An odd occurrence, but nothing too solid, nothing that could be tied in to the theory that had been shared with many of the higher ups surrounding the Sidosa Board.

"The description matches what I remember of her," he said, "But can you go and describe the first time you had such a dream? What do you remember having changed during that time specifically? Related to your magic or your weapon, perhaps?"

"...I'd completely forgotten about that." Fion blinked. "After the first dream, I woke up, and she was still there. Touched my sword, smiled, and disappeared." He drew his talentium scimitar, setting it on his lap. "Felt something was off with the sword after, but my Sword Arts were fine and the blade held up while I was training with it."

"And your latest dreams...describe them to me."

"Fine. This was yesterday, right after I lost my arm. I pass out, I start dreaming, the damn girl is in front of me again. Suddenly, her left arm disappears, she turns into a girl my age for some reason, and she calls herself Fion. Then she asks me if I know what her life was like, because she knows mine. She asks me if I'm a man, we go into some nonsense about gender identity, and then she draws a sword on me and says something about 'regaining what she was missing'. Naturally, I draw my sword. Then her face expands and swallows everything." Fion paused, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Then I wake up again in the lap of a lady friend of mine. She smiles at me and crushes my eyes. I wake up again, in my own bed. My butler," Fion looked down, frowning as he remembered that Richard was dead. "He walks in and pours something over my head, which melts me, and then I wake up for real."

"Right then, seeing how you're a member of the Sidosa Board now, it should be alright to share this information with you."

Massaging the bridge of his nose for a bit, Gael collected his thoughts, and then stated, "Talentium is, essentially, a crystallized form of life. Following this idea, Sword Skills and Sword Arts are basically magic or forces that are powered by this life fuel, just like how witchcraft can be empowered by blood sacrifices."

"Assume that some fragment of Fion Meyer's soul, consciousness, or life, was preserved in her left arm. It may be possible that she's slowly...resurrecting? Reawakening? Gaining her self-consciousness again? by absorbing the talentium of your sword. You said that there was a change in your sword after the first major dream, yes? And during your latest dream, Meyer had held a conversation with you, before she swallowed you."

"Furthermore, if she has control over your dreams, it would mean that she also knows of the people you're close to."

"Of course, the whole theory of talentium equating to life could be wrong, but...nevermind that. The Meyer family cemetary hasn't been cared for for quite a long time, and, in my opinion, that whole article about your mother losing her ability to use magic was rubbish. There had been no other recorded case of that during the Talentless Strife, nor the battles after that. And there's a difference between refusing to use magic, and being totally incapable of using it."

He let his words and doubts hang for a moment, before dropping out a final statement.

"For someone who was engaged in the military for so long, Lady Tanith had quite a dramatic reaction to the death of a single child."

Fion stayed silent for a moment, letting Gael's information sink in. First things first, the man had essentially confirmed that his left arm was once Fion Meyer's. He'd deal with that first. The bit about his mother could wait until he figured out what was going on in the present.

"So...about Meyer's arm, two things: what happens if she reawakens, and what's the effect on my Sword Arts if she's absorbing the blade's talentium?"

"Not sure about what would happen if she were to reawaken, but it's not every day that someone has two different minds in one body. Your Sword Arts, on the other hand...as she gains more of her consciousness, could you even call your Sword Arts your own anymore?"

Fion bit back a curse at what he heard. So far, this wasn't looking very good for him. "Do you know any way to put her back to sleep? Or failing that, get rid of her? I quite enjoy not being possessed by a transplanted arm." He said flatly, now glaring down at his hand.

"Do you prefer being armless and magicless?" Gael said. "This is the first time I've really heard of this, so I'm just theorizing, but if she does gain consciousness...I think you'd be better off learning how to coexisting with her. If you had a conversation with her during your last dream, perhaps, when she's fully...alive, she'll be more reasonable."

"But before even that..."

Was this an intentional action?

Those unspoken words rung in the back of Gael's mind.

Damn. Fion feared that lopping off his remaining arm was the only option available to him if he wanted to be rid of the girl, and so it was. Well, maybe Gael would be right and Meyer would be more reasonable as she awakened. Or maybe she'd continue trying to murder him in his dreams and take control of his body. Frowning, he realized he had no other choice but to wait and see. In all honesty, Fion wasn't looking forward to having to be dependent on someone else for his combat abilities. But Gael was still speaking, and Fion cut his thoughts off to pay attention once more.

"Go on."

"What I'd like to know is whether or not this was an intended result, for you to be able to use magic. And even outside that...have you ever even tried to use Sword Skills before? And even further...was this the 'completed product', or was this simply an 'experiment', a test?"

"That's a good question." Fion replied, looking pensive. "My tutors and I both focused on Sword Arts, since I could do them. We never really tried to see if I could perform Sword Skills. But in the dream, Meyer said I 'lacked Sword Skills'. Whether that means that I simply don't use them or can't use them, I don't know. I suppose I could try to learn, but I have other priorities at the moment."

And then there was the other thing Gael had said. To be honest, Fion wasn't quite bothered by the possibility that his mother may have used him as a guinea pig for whatever purpose. He'd made good use of the power he'd gotten, even if it was all going wrong for him now. She probably hadn't intended for him to end up like this, but losing his actual arm was his own damned fault anyways.

"Are we done here, then?" Fion asked, his mind still racing. "As I said, I've other priorities right now." Like whatever the bloody hell had happened to Riley.

"Like finding Riley?" A shadow of a smile entered Gael's face then. Young love was still sorta adorable.

"What." Fion said flatly. How the hell did he know? And...wait. Why did he care that the old bastard knew anyway? Oh, right. Because somehow, he knew about what Fion got up to in his free time. "You know what, at this point, I don't even care that you know about my personal life. Just tell me how you know."

"Well, that incident at the Ball WAS rather well known. Courtright was pretty much boasting about how Riley finally got a boyfriend or whatever." That shadow of a smile was a splitting grin now. It was always fun to see the reactions of those who refused the obvious.

"Old loon. I should stab his nephew again for this." Fion sighed, burying his face in his palm. "Anyways, are you done prodding into my affairs now?" And just as he uttered that sentence, he smacked himself in the face. Fucking phrasing.

"Affairs? Plural? It must be nice to be so young and bad."

"And like that, we're done here." Fion stood up, turning to leave. "Thanks for the help with my arm. As for everything else, choke on it."

---

Man, Escellar wasn't sure about mood swings, but it appeared that his old friend was suffering from it so much more than himself. Had he already forgotten that, just a dozen years ago, the rift-beasts were considered to be monsters that were invincible? To think that the great mage had degraded so far...the years clearly had not been kind to Eldren.

Nevertheless, he smiled and said, “I'll leave you to your gathering then. It'll be good to fight by you once more, my friend.”

With that, he walked off once more, exitting in search of more volunteers.

[Voltin]

The chat with the elf had proven both simultaneously too long and too short for the girl in a man's body, yet didn't bother with either rushing him away, or asking him to stay. Instead, he gave a curt nod in farewell. The man, despite her initial reaction to his heritage, was proving to be a source of distraction from her more pressing matters... And as far as she was concerned, that was a good thing.

~

A small period of time had passed since her meeting with Escellar. It was a problem; finding the makeshift home of the jail when the original had been one of the first places ransacked by the horde. Yet, this time was also a time time to reflect. She knew why she had reacted the way she had when confronted with the possibility to hunt these rift beasts.

Her recent "switch", she knew how hard feeling the magic in her had become, and how difficult it was for her to draw on any of it. Over the course of their trip back to Cykes, she had managed to return the djinn to where it had come. Yet, the initial summoning had been under an intense moment of duress. It was a scary thought, but she had no real control over her magic. It was there, most of it was a part of her, but the feeling of foreignness within her own being was a mental block on her ability to cast even the most familiar of spells.

Arriving was not met with the fanfare she had expected. The "jail" was an old historical site; a fortress from before Cykes's time, ugly, and unremarkable to the point that people generally dismiss as to it being there to any extent. It was also a gathering for wounded soldiers, if the tents and nurses were anything to go by. "Hail," said one of the uninjured soldiers who had been sitting outside of the door "Eldren" had approached. "Authorized access only; Cykes is considered to be in a state of emergency, and the institutionalized are not to be disturbed." Eldren's eyes had yet to leave the injured. "...I'm here to see my uncle," he had said without thought. "I'm sorry sir, but there are to not be any ex-"
"What if I were to heal your comrades?" he had further said without thinking, "Surely there aren't many who can use magic to heal left around here, with a hunting party being formed, and many of them having been lost to the slaughter... Do you wish to see them die, otherwise?" There was a hint of something in his voice. Despite the obviously cocky tone, there was doubt. Doubt that his bluff would work, and even further if she could do what he claimed; she had never used healing magic before. "A male magic user then? I'm hesitant... skeptical, even, but willing to see if you're good for your word. Very well, healer, you have a deal." The guard turned his head over to the makeshift infirmary. "Nurse!"

~

A demonstration area had been set up. Seventeen; seventeen soldiers healed had been the price negotiated for his entrance. The first one had a broken arm, leg, and had a major case of internal bleeding that they couldn't get to. Riley felt his throat dry up and that swallowing was getting hard. To perform a miracle... that was what his offer had been. To perform something that she knew was likely impossible. But, she also had a small sense of reassurance; it was the only something that kept her going.

He approached the man's bed, and simply looked at him. Something could go wrong, and he could die, and it would be all her fault. He shook such thoughts from his mind, and touched the injured soldier. The skin was cold, much colder than it should have been for any living human. She gave her mana a little push. She could feel how different it was from her usual workings, how the possibilities were unrestricted in her current form. Yet, nothing happened still. "...I'm sorry, it seems my mag-" Then, it happened.

It was the littlest thing. The color returning to the soldier's skin, the bones in both broken limbs reforming into a natural state, breath returning to his being... A miracle had been performed, yet through her elation, she hadn't noticed a few things. A heavy fatigue, an indescribable burden on Eldren's body, and the lack of weight to his head to which she had lost consciousness.

[Psyker Landshark]

Fion walked through the streets of Cykes, looking up at the sky with a frown. Even after everything Gael had said, Fion still felt that the Meyer issue could be set aside for the moment. If what the old man said held true, then he still had some time before Meyer became an actual problem. Riley's apparent possession weighed on his mind more right now, given that she'd essentially decimated the Burrow in a matter of minutes. What the hell had happened to her? Riley's mother would more than likely have the answers he needed, but there was almost no chance he'd be able to track her down at the moment. And even if he did, there was no guarantee she'd be willing to give him any answers. And as much as he wanted the old witch dead, now that he was calmer, Fion was rather realistic about his chances against her with only one arm. He'd be hesitant to face her if he was whole, and as he was, he was crippled in close combat. Then again, maybe Riley's other relative would know what was going on. Probably not, but it wouldn't hurt to ask. Plus, Horace appeared to have been friends with Richard. He should at least know that the old manservant had died.

Well, that and he really had nothing better to do at the moment. The Sidosa Board didn't seem to be meeting right now, there was nothing left for him at the ruins of the Seyour estate, and Fion doubted that he'd be able to find a Sword Skills master willing to train him at the moment, especially given Cykes' current state.

___

It took some time for Fion to find where the new prison was located, but he finally tracked it down. As he approached the door, one of the gate guards raised a hand to stop him, but he was cut off by Fion pulling out the seal of the Sidosa Board.

"Fion Seyour, Sidosa Board. I'm here to speak with Horace Thomson." He said, cutting to the chase immediately.

"Of course, sir." The guard bowed, turning to open the door for him. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to him."

Fion walked after the guard as they entered the fortress. He surveyed the entrance hall filled with wounded soldiers, only to find a familiar face unconscious in a corner.

"...Eldren?" He raised an eyebrow. "The hell is he doing here?"

"Ah, the male mage?" His escort followed his gaze. "He came in here a while back, saying something about visiting his uncle. Tried to bargain his way in without proper authorization by healing our wounded. Only patched up one before he collapsed. Other than that, don't know much. Been guarding the gate since dawn."

Interesting. So Eldren had family imprisoned in Cykes? It certainly explained why the mage was even in Dansila. Still, he'd visit him after Horace. No point in doing nothing and waiting for the man to awaken while he could be using his time more productively.

The guard brought him to Horace's cell, and Fion nodded at the man.

"Leave us." He commanded, and the soldier did as he was told. Once the guard left, Fion looked down at Horace, slumped over in his cell. "Thomson. You still alive in there?"

[Click This]

True to Chad’s words, the party was underway within ten minutes, making slow, but steady progress through the thick, mountainous forest of Hanzen. The little expeditionary force of fourteen people was a sad little sight to behold, with what little semblance of a respectable band of individuals only upheld by the likes of Lyra, Rilolia, and her presumptuous vampire butler.

With Chad and Lyra at the front, the rag-tag band made it a kilometer into the forest until they were met by a small clearing, likely the remnants of a long forgotten dirt road. It was a quiet little place, perfect for a pleasant picnic in any other circumstance. Ahead, on the low branches of an oak tree sat a lone girl. Instintively, the merchant captain reached for the sword at his side, but was stopped by Lyra, who placed her arm in front of him. In a single smooth sweeping motion, the individual jumped off the tree, gracefully landing in the center of the dirt clearing. She was cleanly dressed, clad in full maid’s garb, despite being in the middle of a forest on a mountain. Chad’s eyes widened as he spied the clasp just below the hem of her collar. It was a golden clasp in the shape of a shield. In the center was a smooth azure sapphire with a golden trident inlaid in the center of the gem. The Mauritanian house symbol was unmistakable, worn only by the primary members of the Mauritania family and high ranking members of their household. Lyra too had the same crest adorning both of her sleeves. The presence of the crest on this maid’s uniform meant that she was no other than Lyra’s personal maidservant from the main household. Chad groaned.

The girl, no younger than Lyra bowed in front of the group, her short hair, tied up in a maid’s headdress bobbing as she did so. The young maid’s deadpan expression changed into a slight frown as she looked judgmentally at the group behind her mistress. Recognizing that Rilolia and Lenz were on a somewhat equal social standing to Lyra and herself, she introduced herself and curtsied once again, this time directed towards them.

“Milady,” she started, in a smooth even-toned voice, “Might I ask why you are in a foreign forest with such unusual company?” The maid stopped herself short of saying “awful company” so to not offend her mistress’s more cultured companions.

Chad’s face visibly twitched as the purple-haired maid spoke. “Nephenee Ruvenheiz-Mauritania,” said Chad, grumbling in recognition. “I could ask the same thing of you. Aren’t you rather far away from home yourself?”

“Master Bay Mauritania saw it fit to send to send somebody to protect Lady Lyra and honor fell upon me,” said the maid, with a brief flicker in her otherwise deadpan expression that betrayed a hint of contempt. “Some dreadful activity has happened in Dansila and Illiserev. Precautionary measures are a natural nature of the family, Mr. Howard. Now, might I ask again why you are conducting covert combat operations in Astopolian territory, Mr. Howard?”

“Nephenee,” said Lyra, finally speaking up. Her neutral tone seemed to display her disinterest in the conversation at hand. “I am helping my friend Rilolia here save… A friend. I find the experience to be interesting and educational. The situation created here is mine and mine alone. Chad is only the person that is executing my wishes. That said… Please tell me more about what has happened while I was away…”

And that was that. Nephenee became the 15th member of the sorry little band of people, and the remaining two kilometer trek remained uneventful as the maid brought the party up to speed about current events, and vice versa. After an hour, they finally reached the vicinity of the pit that held Vance Warren.

[Voltin]

Horace looked up at his visitor from where he was sitting. A lack of windows and the dim torchlight had him squinting his hollow eyes, before a look of recognition found him. "Ah," he said, "The cocky Seyour boy..." He had been the last friendly face he had seen before waking in the dank and empty cell, and during that last time, the boy had just lost his arm.

"How's the lack of arm?" It was his attempt at a joke, but one that fell flat due to his otherwise serious tone. "...Sorry about my humor; waking up in a cell and being called prisoner while hearing rumors that half the Sidosa Board is dead with Cykes in ruin have made me a little stressed... Speaking of which, your mother, she isn't...?"

"Eh," Fion shrugged with his one remaining arm. "I have to switch hands for my business now, so there's that." He quipped with a straight face before addressing Horace's other question. "Officially, disappeared. Along with the rest of the Seyour family. Of course, I'm fairly certain she's dead at this point." He averted his gaze for a moment before he regained his composure once more.

"Anyways, you remember everything that happened with Riley and her bitch mother?" Fion asked, leaning against the dungeon wall.

Business, the man in the cell had thought to himself in a surprisingly jovial mood. I guess I was the same when I was his age too...

"Well, you have my condolences, for what they're worth," he had said in relation to the boy's mother. "And for the most part, yes, but what's there to ask? Were you not there to witness what it was that my niece had done? Were you not on the recieving end of one of her at-" The man was taken aback for a brief second. "You were able to speak to her, weren't you? Did you notice anything else weird about her besides the strange killing intent she had?"

"She said, and I quote: 'Riley was a witch capable of using summons. Yet I am using elemental magic. Have you not being able to draw any conclusions from that bit of information yet, Fion?' So my best guess? She's probably being possessed by something. Hell, I came down here to ask you if you knew anything about it. Even though she's witch, is her mother able to use elemental magic?"

Horace bit down on his thumb nail in relief, and also confusion. It wasn't her... Thank the Goddess. But, that still left questions.

"No," he said plainly to Fion's conclusion. "My brother had a strange fascination about such things, and I was always one to go snooping. Possession of any kind must be mutual, and even then, the possessor can never take complete control where they're able to speak in place of the person. They can make that person experience a hell like they've never imagined for not following their whims, but never complete dominance like that..."

"As for her mother, I know nothing outside of her being a witch like Riley. That being said, witches are generally inferior at the elemental arts compared to a human or elf, so for her to have that kind of mastery after hardly a day with her mother is... unlikely."

"Your brother?" Fion raised an eyebrow. "Riley never mentioned much about him, really. Is it possible all this was passed down from your side of the family, then?"

Horace looked at him, mouth falling agape. "Wait, wait, wait!" He felt like an epiphany had hit him. "My brother- my brother was a rather unspectacular kind of man, but one day he suddenly had gained magical ability that rivaled our noble, matriarch mother, a summoner in her own right as it were... It's-it's a possibilty that she bound a spirit to him, but I've never heard of such a ritual being passed down through the generations... Sacrificing the first-borne child, yes, but that sort of ordeal was always more because of faustian boredom; never has it been recorded of 'passing down a demon'.

"And why now of all times for it to take over? Her father died many years ago, so if such a thing were to happen, it would have been there.Still, even if she had gotten it from her father, complete domination isn't possible, like I said before."

Horace had placed himself on the floor, clutching his head. "My brother, though... It explains so much," he had whispered to himself.

Fion raised his hand to his chin at Horace's revelations, processing them for himself.

"Faustian boredom, eh? Considering what I know of Riley's mother, it seems likely that she might have done to Riley what your mother did to your brother. Then again, it didn't really seem like Riley had any control at all. Hell, she referred to Riley in the third person, like a completely separate person. If that's not complete domination, I don't know what is. So the demon theory's out." He mused out loud, but stopped as Horace remained unresponsive. Sighing, Fion leaned over and stuck his hand through the prison bars, snapping his fingers in front of Horace's face.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"Unless you want a history lesson on Riley's father, then it's nothing... But, you're right, she was speaking in third person, so maybe it wasn't really Riley, but someone completely different that looked just like her..." he perked, "and she was also capable of using that abominable spell, so was 'Riley' possibly another witch?"

"Huh. Maybe?" Fion shrugged. "Either way, we'd have to track Riley's mother down to know anything. And if we did that...well, she nearly took you down without even trying, and I'm down an arm. Can't imagine that'd end well for us." He paused, glancing down at the stone floor of the dungeon before continuing. "Anyways, you should probably know this, considering you seemed to be friends with him: Richard's dead. Killed by falling rubble during the attack on the estate."

He sighed mournfully in response. Richard had been the only friend he had left from the war; the rest were either dead or had drifted far apart from him as the years streched on. "Thank you for telling me... All I can say is at least it was a quick end, even if it didn't befit a warrior like him..."

Fion nodded, turning away. "Yeah." He said quietly. "Anyways, they put me on the Sidosa Board. I'll try to get you out, but the others on the Board might overrule me. No guarantees, but I'll do what I can."

"Right," he started, "about that. How did we get back anyway? I had nearly died of blood loss, same as you, and I noticed that there was no patch job either. Did we truly get so lucky as to be found by a healer?"
"We did. Some male mage called Eldren found us, and then he got Araki to heal us, apparently. I wasn't conscious for that part either. Speaking of, he got himself knocked out trying to heal the soldiers in here. Apparently trying to bargain his way in here to see his uncle or something. There any other prisoners left in here?"

"Only those purportedly involved in the razing of Cykes..." Horace pasued. "Perhaps we should have a chat, seeing as how his uncle's position parallels my own, and maybe a guard, to verify the prisoners here."

"I'll be right back, then." Fion nodded before knocking on the exit door. "Guard! I'm done here."

---

"Ah," was all Riley could manage in the situation. Woken up, brought before both her uncle and Fion, and both currently starring at him.

"Interesting," Horace said, stroking his chin. You're the man that was sleeping in the inn's only other room..."

"You never mentioned having an uncle in Cykes, you know." Fion said, looking rather bored. "Then again, I wouldn't either, given that he's probably in this prison. Hurry up with your questions, Horace."

Horace smirked. "Fion, you might wish to leave, actually. I need to speak of a private matter with this man.
"Fine by me." Fion gave no resistance to the request, and simply left the room. Of course, once the door was locked behind him, he raised his hand to cast a spell. The wind would carry sound waves from the prison cell, under the door, and straight into Fion's ear. After all, if Horace wanted him gone for this, it would probably be worth hearing.

Her uncle's request of Fion had put Riley on edge. What was bad was that she was now alone with her uncle. No, he was now alone with her uncle.

"Come closer, 'Eldren'," he said in a tone that Riley had never use before; it was cocky, as if he were in control of this situation in a completely new way. Riley didn't know what else to do besides obey. "Do you remember what you tried doing to me? A few years before, I mean?" The questions were in the same tone as his previous words, and it made him hot under the collar. "The kiss, and the rejection I gave you afterword?" He persisted, and Eldren's face was all the more red for it. Through the gaps, Horace grabbed the collar of Eldren's shirt, pulling him practically into the bars. "Already embarrassed? Strange, seeing as how you're married," he glanced at Eldren's wedding ring, "and by the fact that, besides my encounter with you at the Burrow, this is the first time we've spoken. Are you truly who you say you are and just a very curious man, or are you truly the 'Riley' I know?"

"H-how?"

Behind the door, Fion's eyes widened. "What." And then he realized what Horace had said before that. "What." Riley came on to her uncle? Huh. He actually didn't know what to think about that. Wait, even before that, how the hell did Horace even guess that it was Riley? Was it just a wild guess, backed up by a bluff? And there was also the question of why Riley suddenly looked like the man from the Burrow. Then again, his entire day had been like this so far. Every time he learned something new, it just brought up even more questions.

Horace sighed, his face and stance in a more natural order compared to the more eager nature of her uncle. "To be honest, I began to notice a collection of coincidences I was clutching at straws... but I was right,.

"Firstly, you had earlier said that you were here to visit your uncle... when I saw that you were human, and due to me being the only non-'Talze Utaran' due to your high priority summoning nature. That was always something about you; you could never lie for long.

"Secondly, it fit as an explanation for your body's change in personality, and why you, the only other known survivor of the Burrow, helped both me and your boyfriend out there. Truthfully, that was some sort of wish on my part; that you really hadn't been changed or killed.

"Thirdly was your change in form from when you where walking in, and when you noticed Fion and mine glares. The way you carry yourself has always been the same since you were young...

"So, with that in mind, I had to verify it. I tried to 'seduce' you; pull you into a situation I had knew you had of dreamed about. Then, I brought up a memory that we've both tried to have forgotten.. But it would appear that I'm not a rapist.." Horace pulled Riley in for a hug. "I'm sorry for doing that to you..."

"It's okay... It wasn't fair what I put you through before... all of it."

---

"So..." Fion began as he and Eldren walked out of the prison fortress. "Where to now?" He asked, still rather surprised that 'Eldren' had turned out to be Riley in...disguise? A different body? Riley had switched bodies with the actual Eldren, then. At least he had learned one thing conclusively today. Now all that was left was to figure out how to switch them back. Perhaps someone on the Sidosa Board would know, but Fion knew better than to ask outright. Given the attack on Cykes, none of them would be rather accommodating towards aiding the kin of a witch. Perhaps he could speak to Corinkarus, then. He'd always had a soft spot for Riley, as well as Talze Uterans in general. Of course, it would be his luck that the old bastard turned out to have died in the attack.

"Now," Riley had started after some distance from the fortress. "Do you know where our mutual acquaintance Araki is? Or should we go find him? I've received an interesting invitation by an old friend of mine. It's to hunt the creatures responsible for the destruction we see around us. Interested?"
"I'm going to be honest: Araki probably skipped town. And I wouldn't blame him either. Hell, if he's still in the city, I'm going to tell him to leave as soon as possible." Fion frowned, almost uncharacteristically concerned. "You've seen the townspeople. They're about ready to lynch anything related to Talze Utera. If Riley was still around, I'd have suggested to her to lay low, too. Rather not see those two hurt." He said. "As for your invitation, I'll go if your 'old friend' will have a one-armed man along. Gods know I wouldn't." Fion smiled bitterly, looking forlornly at the stump that his arm once protruded from.

"It seems he's taking all the help he can get. Some are angry enough, but in shape to be 'hunting' anything; others are afraid of fighting things that ate their weapons, and then their comrades and the civilians. I'm sure they could use a renowned Sword Arts user such as you, even with your current disability." He smiled at him.

"True." Fion gave a weak smirk. "Having two arms wouldn't quite matter if I'm not planning to get close anyways. And if I'm forced into close combat by something with a brain, well, against the only Talze Uteran swordsman I know, parrying his attacks wouldn't exactly end well for me. Or my arm." He trailed off, recalling that bastard with the massive slab of metal he deemed a sword. "Bastard called me a lady too. Do I look like a woman to you?" Fion asked, almost cracking a grin at the irony. Ever since he'd known Riley, he'd been calling her a man just to piss her off. And now she was a man. And a woman was trying to take over his own body. Truly, his life was a damn joke right now.

"You... don't want me to answer that." He cracked a smirk. " But, we should hurry along; my 'old friend' and your fellow Sidosa Board member Escellar never gave me an exact location for the gathering, but finding it should be too hard if we talk around."

Fion raised an eyebrow at the reply. Huh. He'd figured Riley wouldn't have resisted the urge to get one back at him. And there was a member of the Sidosa Board joining the hunt? Well, at least he wouldn't be pissing the Board off too badly by not being in town, then. At the moment, he still needed the Sidosa Board, if only for access to their collective knowledge.

"Well, then. Guess we should get going. You know your way around town yet?"

[ERode]

“No?” For an instant, East was actually surprised, before she quickly smothered such an emotion under a veil of neutrality.

“No.” Aiv's flat reply cut through the air once again, as he looked the witchmother straight in the eye.

For a minute, an awkward silence ensued over the massive pit that the four witchmothers gathered over, before it was broken by the laughter of South. Soon, her crew joined her in this moment of hilarity, waves of laughter filling up that hole in the ground.

North, seeing this, grimaced, before arching an eyebrow at East, still maintaining as straight of a face as possible. “Your guest, then, seems like he'd wish to be treated as one.”

“Yes...” East said, pointedly ignoring the uproar from South, “Please give me a moment...”

And with that, she grabbed Aiv by the arm, and tried to drag him back into the dollhouse on top of the snake's head, taking long, fast strides.

Tried...and failed.

It was the most curious sensation, of clearly feeling the softness of the flesh, yet the resistance of a statue that was rooted to the scaly ground. She tried to walk forward, but her feet just kept on sliding backwards, as if she walking in a wheel. A pointless endeavor.

Turning back at the impassive, green-eyed swordsman, she frowned, and said, with as much sincerity as she could muster, “Please?”

Only then did Aiv follow her back into her house.

---

The first incident in Dansila was a break-in of a hidden library, in which a document written by a future witchmother, regarding the intricacies of summoning, was stolen. Within that essay was a theory that hypothesized that it would be possible to summon anything, as long as the 'catalyst' used was strongly tied to the monster or person in mind.

The second incident was the destruction of Burrow, done by a person who could utilize both elemental and summoning magic. Through the double-invocation of Hell Drop, the underground city was promptly demolished, and the resulting thunderstorm, almost all of Burrow's population disappeared. The field agent knew of only one witch that utilized Hell Drop before, and he was sure that she wasn't that strong before. Her prodigy? Or did she gain a different source of power?

The third incident, though, appeared to be most closely associated with the first. The capital of Dansila, Cykes was attacked by a combination of two abnormal rift-beasts, as well as a multitude of summoned monsters. However, uncharacteristic of witch attacks recorded in the past, there was no witch, or coven of witches, who claimed responsibility. Was this implying that all witches had a hand at this? Or was this related to the incident a few months back? There was a person out there who had the ability to summon rift-beasts, who must have refined their summoning skills utilizing a thesis written by a witchmother.

Esace massaged the bridge of his nose slowly, as he poured over heaps of documents from the archives of Dansila, originally reserved for the exclusive usage of those associated with the Sidosa Board. Corinkarus and Tanith, for the time being, were still presumed missing, but most have assumed that they had died that night, swallowed whole by some monster or the other. There were reports about some sort of liquid monster that freely controlled its body, and another of a wyvern that appeared to grow more 'whole' as it absorbed talentium.

It was related to that white beast that had appeared in Bakery Town, wasn't it? The unwhole one.

But in that case, what made these things unwhole? And would that mean that, in these lands, there were others that were going through the same changes as Araki?

And if that was the case...Esace recalled how extraordinarily quickly that Crystalla had grown, both in strength and size, to the extent that he was PRODUCING talentium of his own. Was that the true intentions of whomever was behind this?

Talentium was life, so that meant that...the perpetrator was creating an elixir of life, of liquid power.

Well, it wasn't like that changed anything.

Esace was still going to hunt him down.

---

As they trekked up the gradual slope of Hanzen mountain, meeting no sort of opposition on the way up, Rilolia couldn't help but feel...completely, absolutely, and utterly impatient. She was most definitely tired, but at the same time, she was restless. After such a long time, Vance was finally close, and yet, they were taking their time walking up, occasionally stopping in order to avoid some sort of magical detection trap. No doubt, there were even more of those sensors up in the air, but it still didn't change the fact that she would very much like to just scatter into the air and fly, turning into a black swarm, becoming a legion of eyes that would find her friend. The faster they located the dishonored Astopolian, the better wasn't it?

He was just a human, after all, and she had learned from her parents at a very young age just how fragile those mortal beings were.

Death by existence.

It was a terrible thought, and the purple-haired vampire shivered once more, clutching at the jewel that hung around her neck, hoping that he had not yet broken under the punishments of his fellow countrymen.

Yazu, on the other hand, was simply being...well, Yazu. Oblivious to the tense pressure that filled the atmosphere of the group, the cursed elf treated everything like it was a picnic, merrily bouncing around and taking in sights that she had never been privileged to see before. The eternal spring of Astopol had done well to foster the growth of the trees in Hanzen, and their new company, a maid that seemed to know everything about the going-ons of the world, was quite welcome, in her eyes.

With a hum, a skip, and a flourish, she went up towards the head of the group, seemingly invulnerable towards the harshness of travelling.

And, in the back of the group, as the trees began to become sparse and the atmosphere thinned, as it became clear that they were getting ever-closer to the location of those 'cells', Lenz, obscure at the back of the group, produced a card from his sleeve, drew it over his face, and disappeared.

---

The movements of the group were, as they should have expected, noticed by those who silently kept watch over the mountain-cells of Hanzen. While they did a remarkable job of dodging the majority of the sensors that were placed within the forest, what they failed to notice was just how far-reaching those sensors were. With an entrance as dramatic as an airship landing in a ninety degrees angle to the ground, it would be pathetic if the wardens of such a high-security jail were unable to notice it.

On the sheer side of the mountain were a variety of gaping holes, perhaps remnants of tunnels from the times where the mountain was once whole. Laced with illusion magic, these caves served jointly as the sleeping quarters and offices of the warden-knights that guarded the mountains. Lightly armored men and women, they were both expert mountaineers, as well as merciless warriors.

In the innermost section of the cave system of Hanzen, a mage in her thirties powered up the communications system of the prison guards once more, a complicated array of runes that acted as a relay system for whatever thoughts or sights experienced by all the guards. Alongside her were two sentries, already gearing themselves up in order to scale the mountains. The young men had already equipped the silver-gold half-helm characteristic of those who served this mountain, and, their thoughts ringing in her head, marched off. With a fearless jump, followed by an accurate throw, they secured their safety line on the side of the mountain, and began to scale upwards.

As more guards began to arm themselves, slinging shields over their back, buckling swords to their belt, the mage felt a familiar thrum as the network of minds grew larger, filling with more sights. It was her job to bring up the most valuable visuals to the attention of her allies, as well as provide coordinates for magical attacks from the few spellcasters that were in a separate cave system. A difficult, mind-boggling one, but one that she enjoyed, and which paid well.

There were only ten guards on the mountain at any given time, including herself, but number was truly just there as a formality.

After all, they were within the range of the God of War, Einzershalt, perhaps one of the only long-ranged Gods of War on this side of the continent.

There is a party of 14 approaching the cells. Take care, stay hidden, and don't engage until their target is ascertained.

---

Soon, it was clear to Fion and Riley JUST where they were supposed to meet up with the hunting party. After all, it WAS pretty hard to overlook the crowds of well-wishes and the odd, miniature airship that was present. A variety of war horses, managed by a group of well-dressed animal handlers, formed a barricade of flesh that kept the crowd separate from those who were actually intent on joining. They were at the end of the trail left by one of the rift-beasts. Once, those streets were narrow, but now, it appeared as if a giant had swept through it, leaving only a flattened landscape.

After making it through the crowds that gave their blessings and well-wishes, it was also clear just how small the group of actual volunteers were. It appeared that Captain Escellar had been remarkably selective of those whom he actually wished to partake in this mission, as the group numbered only to a dozen or so, excluding Riley and Fion. Few appeared to have been present during the struggles of last night, as their armor and weapons showed no sigh of wear, but their eyes still spoke of a patriotic desire for vengeance. Their weapons appeared not to be made of talentium, but of regular metals instead, shining dully in the light of day. No doubt, these were groups of Sword Skills users who had already grown to the extent that they no longer needed the presence of their weapons in order to pull of superhuman feats. Amongst them was Lucius Courtright, who spared only a passing glance at Fion, before turning his attention back to sharpening a greatsword that already appeared to be razor-sharp.

His eyes were that of the dead.

It was amongst the mages, those that still bore their talentium instruments, that the elven captain could be seen, leaning against the oddly-shaped airship as he spoke to a young red-headed woman, occasionally smiling and patting one of the cylinder-esque parts of that flying contraption.

It took him a few moments to notice the arrival of his old friend, but when he did, Eldren cast a smile towards the duo and waved at them, prompting them to come over.

[Click This]

“Hold.”

Lyra, who had barely spoken since the family maid appeared, finally spoke up. A few meters away was a large, crater-like hole, and in the distance, the sheer face of the mountain, dotted with similar holes. They did not look recent, but everybody knew that it was most certainly not an act of nature.

“Is this it?” asked Chad, in a lowered voice.

The young mage shook her head. She had a few ideas, but she could be certain until they actually got to so-called prison. Nonetheless, she proffered a conclusion that immediately darkened Chad’s face.

“I don’t think we were the first to attack this place,” she commented. “They are craters, left over from a previous engagement or similar expedition. If it is from an Astopolian weapon, which it very is, I would wager a single unmitigated hit would put a swift end to our efforts.”

As was par for the course, Lyra’s comments were helpful but delivered in a completely tactless manner. The tense atmosphere of the group certainly was not aided by her comments, and Chad merely shook his head.

“Well, we can’t fall back now.” Chad seemed to come a conclusion, and waved over a sailor.

“Mr. Bennet, according to Mr. Lenz, the pit should be just over the summit. I want you and your men to hold this position. Fortify yourselves, and remember your primary mission: deny them of any and all reinforcements.”

Mr. Bennet, a trim officer with military discipline nodded grimly, and he and his party of six detached themselves from the group for a more defensible position.

With the first stage of the plan executed, all was left for the main party to rush the sad little Astopolian pit. After taking a moment to rest, and for Lyra to prepare her own defensive and supportive spells, the party forged on with her in front, making straight for the pit and perhaps utter disaster.

[Psyker Landshark]

It only took the walk from the prison to the airship docks for Fion to tire of keeping up the charade that he didn't know who 'Eldren' actually was. Of course, considering what else he had overheard while he'd learned that the man was Riley in a different body for whatever reason, telling her outright that he'd been eavesdropping would be a rather bad idea. Then again, now that he knew that Eldren was Riley, the fact that Horace was her uncle was rather obvious, considering that every other male in that prison hadn't been human. Or a witch, for that matter. But that was a given. Still, he'd get around to that whenever they got a moment to themselves.

When they'd reached the airship with the crowd around it, Fion took a look at the captain of the ship and leader of the expedition, some elf who the original Eldren had apparently been friends with. With him were a number of notable Sword Skills users that Fion had heard of over the years...and Lucius Courtright. Fion frowned. His old classmate looked a far cry from the utter tool that he'd known over the past few years, but this was also the same swordsman that Fion had utterly demolished in a duel not long ago. And that greatsword didn't look like it was a talentium one, either. Courtright was just above average with Sword Skills, and if he was fighting without talentium, that would only decrease the strength of his abilities. Of course, given that the monsters summoned last night were rumored to consume talentium, Fion could see the reasoning behind using steel weapons, but Courtright was nowhere near good enough to not have his skills suffer for it.

Regardless, Fion brushed past Lucius. The man looked broken already, and if he had a death wish, it wasn't Fion's place to deny him that. Walking up to the elf captain and whatever woman was with him, Fion raised a hand in greeting.

"So, heard you were looking for more men. Think you'll take a one-armed Sword Arts user?" He smirked ruefully, flipping his cloak back to reveal his missing arm. "I can still cast spells just fine, but if you're looking for swordsmanship, well, give me a few months and maybe I'd be competent again."

[Voltin]

The amount of time it took for the pair to find Escellar and his assembled merry-band was about what Riley had suspected. It was easy to assume a large crowd of well-wishers -- or mob, as Riley would prefer to call them with the barricade they had to set up -- was going to see them off with their targets being the beasts that had destroyed their home and killed their loved ones. Pushing through the crown was not as easy for the pair, so reaching the effective clearing that had been created was a godsend for her.

Seeing the group that had assembled, Riley was neither impressed or disappointed by the people the Captain had gathered; they all appeared to be talented, experienced people, a group of people she never considered herself a part of. She found herself swallowing back a sudden case of nerves, and continued to look about at the group as a whole. Small, probably exclusive, and included in it was Corinkarus's nephew, Lucius.

Corinkarus... The man had been like a surrogate grandfather to her when she arrived at Cykes with her uncle, yet, she never once worried about his safety. She didn't want to believe it, perhaps she always thought the man was going to live forever with neither his eccentricities or time being able to quell his life, but the look in his eyes... For now, Riley brushed aside any sorrow, there were still the culprits for them to kill.

Approaching the elf and his female companion, it was Fion to motion a greeting and speak first to their recruiter. "Eldren" visibly scoffed at his words while keeping his gaze centered on the red headed girl. "I can speak for him," the voice of the warlock had said, "the boy has endured much, and I had witnessed a fight of his at the remnants of the Burrow. I think he had at least deserves a chance to slay those who left him the last while he was away." The old man's face smiled. "But who are you young lady?" She was keeping the pangs of jealously out of her voice. "I do not believe we've met."

[ERode]

She could still sense the laughter of South outside of her house, even though she made sure to soundproof her walls, but East was good at keeping things bottled up within her. There wasn't exactly much she could do, after all. There weren't any proper ways of indirectly damaging or humiliating someone who never stuck in one place and had no lasting attachment to anything. Perhaps if she asked West to cook her up a laxative or something...

Putting away those thoughts for the time being, the witchmother turned around as she heard Aiv close the door. There were more important things to unravel, after all. Was he reaching his rebellious phase already?

“So, what's the problem this time, Aiv?” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, seasoned with concern. Whether that concern was sincere or not wasn't something that the Sword Skill user could tell.

He shrugged, a neutral mask. “Don't involve me in your problems, East. Clean up your own messes.”

“Oh? But if I were Annette...” She trailed off, stopping as she saw him poised to respond.

“Annette has nothing to do with this. Unlike you, she's an individual who isn't representative of thousands of Talze Uterans.”

“Though even as an individual, she's effected by what happens to the masses. What I'm asking of you to do is to stop a war before it happens, and in return, you'll be ensuring her safety as well.” Her eyes glinted, catching a momentary sign of irritation in Aiv's features.

He paused for a moment, before muttering, “It's not like you're incapable of that yourself.”

“Oh, what's that? I couldn't hear you.”

“I said that you're a lazy brat who can't even be bothered to settle her own problems without involving others.”

“That's harsh, Aiv,” East smiled, “I'm not really a fan of this abuse-play, you know?” It was calming though, as the almost-routine bickering of the two started to get under way. She felt the world outside was disappearing, and all that was left was the words exchanged between the two.

“Reality is harsh.”

“But you owe me for helping Annette and that cute little demon child of her's settle down in my territory, right?”

“I paid the debt in blood and talentium.” He didn't say what both of them knew: that he would have done that regardless of whether or not East would 'reward' him for it.

“Then how about...as payment for this request, I'll let you do anything to me for a single night?”

“You haven't hit puberty yet.”

“Oh please, Aiv, I'm mentally a grown woman.”

“With a child's body.”

“Is that a no then?”

“Yes.”

She pouted. “Boo.”

---

Against all of Rilolia's common sense, the bare slope of Hanzen Mountain wasn't cold, but comfortably cool. The vampire had followed along with the group, as they adopted a more disciplined formation, with Lyra in the lead. Apparently, the human girl was a remarkable mage, one that Chad believed could shield them from whatever had created those pits the first place. Yet there was still doubt in Rilolia's mind as she passed by one of them. The hole was sealed by a grid of iron fused to the granite of the mountain, whilst the depth of that hole was indeterminable, even with a vampire's superior ability to discern through the darkness. All she could smell was the musky scent of death, one that bore none of the sharp tang that came with the spilling of blood, but instead, was filled with despair. The people who had died in this 'prison' had long given up on life before their bodies failed them. It was a sad place, but, on the positive side of things, it gave her magic something to work with.

She doubted that Lyra, however accomplished she may be, was strong enough to defend against whatever had punched such perfect holes into the ground, and now, more than ever, she wished for the protection of Dead Gear. This whole thing would have felt safer if they were doing this under the cover of darkness, protected by the shadowy bulk of a God of War, with an escape route that was secured in the shape of an operational airship. But they had none of that, and her nerves were getting to her as they got further up the mountain, as they were reaching closer and closer to where Lenz marked as Vance's cell.

There were still no guards popping out of nowhere, no sudden attack by a group of elite assailants.

Perhaps, just perhaps, they came at a good timing then?

She briefly allowed that hope to chase away the butterflies.

And then, just as suddenly, reality crushed those hopes.

---

Her men climbed well, making not a single sound as they scaled the side of the mountain. They were ready to engage by the time she had narrowed down the amount of people that the small group could be interested in targetting. There were no signs of them stopping, not until they crested over the summit, which was 'reserved' for the latest acquisitions of Hanzen mountain. And amongst those people, there was a single individual that had the best chance of lasting in those conditions.

The God Slayer, a Sword Skills user who no doubt held physical fortitude that was above that of normal humans.

Well, now that was confirmed, she knew which name to put onto the death certificate.

With a flourish of her pen, she recorded the name of the criminal onto a piece of parchment, before turning her thoughts to her allies.

Ladies, start off with a round of lightning, right up on the summit. Focus on disorientation. Knights, engage right afterwards. The girl in the front seems to be the leader. Prioritize her.

An influential sympathizer? A former lover? A long lost sister? She cared for none of those worthless relations between Vance and that woman. With that, the woman began a second correspondence, this time to the pilot of the Einzershalt, to stand ready for a bombardment.

There was a rumble in the distance, but she disregarded that as well.

---

The sewers of Koestace, like the sewers of most cities, were places that were seldom patrolled. After all, when one was utilizing a series of tunnels that were created from the icemelt rivers of the higher peaks of the mountain, there was little need for any sort of protection. The amount of illumination in those dank tunnels was zero, and the slick nature of the stone made it almost impossible for anyone to scale up the steep slopes. Even if there was a climber would dare such a venture, they would also have to deal with the torrents of water that plummeled whomever attempted such a climb. Through the sewers, it was largely impossible for one to sneak into the capital of Koestace, even though it appeared to be such an unguarded and obvious entry way.

However, those were problems that Lenz didn't have to deal with.

The silver-haired man had no need to travel through the sewers. He didn't even need to come into close-distance to Koestace. Instead, he was sitting on the top of a tree, in the forest of Hanzen Mountain. In one hand, he held a map, a detailed one that showed the entire cave systems of the mountain that Koestace was built into. Truly a labor of love by the mapmaker, even though he had admitted it was rather outdated. In the other hand, he held a clear flask. From within, a thick liquid rested, it's color masked by the pulsating light that emanated outwards.

Uncorking the bottle, he noted once more, how devoid of scents the liquid was, before tilting it over his mouth, just enough so that a trickle of that liquid could ease over the lip of the flask and fall onto his tongue.

Just a drop. That's all that was needed.

And then, Lenz's entire body felt as if it was burning, filling up with sensations that caused both pain and pleasure as his mortal body reacted with this new fuel. His heart pounded at thrice the normal pace, his skin whitening from the heat that was gathered within him. For a moment, he thought that he could hear a voice, but he cast that aside, focusing himself on containing the pleasurable, painful energy that was gathering within him.

A single drop could cause so much pain.

He definitely would experiment on the entirety of the product on himself.

Slowly, those pains subsided, and as he relaxed, the man could feel a new store of power within himself, separate from power that was his 'own'. A stronger resource that made the efficiency of his own strength pale in contrast. Through the eyes of a man who was changed, yet remained the same, Lenz looked at the map of the cave systems once more, and cast his power outwards.

The earth began to rumble as he tore new caves into the mountain, constructing a three-dimensional magical circle inside the object that contained all four of the cardinal elements.

Today was going to be another productive day.

---

Tipping his hat towards the two that arrived, Captain Escellar reciprocated Fion's look of bemusement, showing no sign of displeasure or disapproval of his lack of an arm. “Heard that the magic part of Sword Arts was correlated with the movements of the sword,” he said, “But I guess you can substitute that by pretending that it's a wand.” He already knew that it was Fion Seyour, a fellow new member of the Sidosa Board, that stood before him, but the elf decided to let Eldren introduce that fellow. A wind magic user could be useful, if the rift-beast they were tracking had truly flown away, and not been teleported by some third party to a safe destination. It'd also serve as a method of test for this new airship model, after all, to see whether it could truly weather the storm.

However, as Eldren spoke of Fion's feats in Burrow, the town that was destroyed during the same day or night as the Cykes attack, Nysieg Escellar arched an eyebrow. So Fion was present during the attakc on Burrow? The one that most likely involved a powerful witch or mage, who held the power to call forth and bring down massive storms, as well as summon part of a nightmarish beast? Well, he had no prior problems with allowing a talented Sword Arts user to join their backline, but now, he was glad.

“Burrow, was it?” A thoughtful expression creased his fine features. “Fion, do you believe that the same witch, or group of witches that destroyed Burrow also struck Cykes?”

Eldren seemed to be indulging in the lady beside him, after all, and Nysieg sought no need to interrupt his old friend's ventures for getting a new friend. Anyways, Sarah had always kept the mage on a tight leash in the past, so he could understand the need for him to let loose.

Even though it wasn't the most appropriate of times for that.

The red-headed, red-eyed woman, her hair bundled up behind her head and tucked into her hat, wondered why the Captain held a man that looked like a homeless wanderer in such high regards. She also wondered why he made expressions that appeared more appropriate for an adolescent girl than on a grown man. And even before that, she wondered why she felt that the smidge of jealousy in his dark brown eyes was present not because the captain had been speaking to her, but because she had been speaking to the captain. Could he be a man who sought the company of other men then?

Well, she would admit that the respected hobo's taste in men was good. The captain cut a rather dashing figure, after all, framed a shiny, high-tech airship and in his almost-regal captain's uniform of black and gold. Though he didn't have a single hair on his chin, there was still something that was strong and fresh about his appearance. His yellow eyes were intense, burning like frozen lightning, whilst his scars only enhanced his visage.

She turned her gaze back towards the hobo man, with his square jaw and scruffy, dog-like hair, before replying curtly, “We haven't met. I'm Aelitha Velm of Bakery Town, serving as Captain Escellar's co-pilot onboard the Firebird. And you?”

[Psyker Landshark]

At Escellar's question, Fion simply shrugged, still trying to work that out for himself.

"Maybe. I doubt it, though. Around the time that the beasts appeared in Cykes, I was getting torn apart by that old hag." He said, trying his best to shift the mob's attention to Riley's mother instead of whatever was in Riley's body. For one, going after "Riley" at the moment was probably suicide, considering her ridiculous new elemental power, and her mother would be an easier target. After all, even that old bitch had been worried about the amount of power "Riley" had exhibited back at the Burrow. Plus, even if Riley got her body back, it wouldn't do her much good if everyone thought that she had been responsible for the massacre in Cykes.

Meanwhile, Eldren and the redheaded woman seemed to be having some kind of standoff. Fion watched in amusement, careful to keep the smirk off of his face. Well, Riley had just vouched for him, so maybe he'd let her off just this once without making some kind of joke at her expense. He turned back to Escellar, giving the man a nod and a smirk at his taste in female companionship.

"Well, then. You have a cabin I can set up in?" He asked before shifting his gaze to Riley for a second, his tone becoming serious. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. "Eldren, I need to talk with you in private when you're done here."

[Voltin]

For whatever reason, Riley felt the need to adjust her posture. She shifted her weight equally between her two feet, instead of using one dominantly. She slouched a little, instead of puffing out her chest as she was used to doing. She slid her hands into her pocket, instead of having them folded in front of her as if she was expecting something that was never implied to be a given. This woman's scrutinizing gaze... It was as if the two were in a battle of intuitions.

"Well then," the voice of Eldren started, unsure of how to preceded with this very red woman, "it's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Velm; I am Eldren, mage." Despite her uncertainty, Riley made sure that the tone she used held some measure of confidence, lest Aelitha sighted some weakness. "You said Bakery Town though, correct? I had heard rumors of what happened there some while back... I guess that's a roundabout way of me asking for a native-born's insight on the incident." She chuckled lightly at her own indirectness.

Then came the click from the warlock's tongue. The last thing that she wanted was to spend time with Fion when the cutting figure of Escellar was standing right there. "I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything we need to talk about, Mr. Seyour." A smile may have been what she was flashing him on the man's face, but there was a killing intent in those words. "Besides, I do wish to rest and practice my magic some; it's been a long day, not to mention the rust that's likely developed from my long-term inactivity," he chuckled, intent still the same. Her lie may have meant that she wasn't spending time with the elf either, but she knew that it would grate on the boy's nerves that she declined.

[Click This]

It was the slight trembling of the ground that first alerted them to the enemy presence, followed by the shock and awe of a frighteningly close lightning strike only a dozen meters away from their position.

The light was temporarily blinding, but Lyra shook it off. The flare was disorienting but not badly so for the others, with most of the light refracted away from the party by one of Lyra’s pre-casted spells. Chad reacted quickly, as did Lyra, who reformed her set of shields into a more spread out pattern meant to provide better defilade against a ranged magical attack.

“Mages!” shouted Chad, although everybody likely already knew the source of the strike. “Probably on the other side of the summit. Lyra, can you engage?”

The young mage shook her head. There were no mages that she could see or sense, so they were likely at a more remote location. Perhaps a vantage point. In any case, the people coming over the summit were not mages.

“No mages. Knights. Nine of them,” said Lyra, briefly pointing at a small, but tight formation of armor clad men barreling towards them. “Easy pickings for you, Chad. I’ll get the Astopolian mage, don’t worry about it. There’s only so much they can do at range.”

As she spoke, she materialized a lance of metallic nature, of a length about equal in height to Chad. Without wasting a breath, she planted the rod in the ground a couple meters ahead of her, and not a moment too soon, as the prison mages launched another round of lightning. The lightning bolts surged through the air right into the makeshift lightning rod and were completely neutralized by the ground.

From a tactical standpoint, the situation looked grim. They had lost the element of surprise, and their own party of combatants just about equaled the squad of knights in numbers. While Chad’s own band of crewmembers was less trained, they were also lightly armored and more agile, and they had the support of Lyra, and for better or for worse, the house maid Nephenee. He drew his sword.

“Let’s make swift work of these knights and get in, and get out,” said Chad, coordinating the group. “Dig in, but don’t take importance in holding ground. Remember, we have the advantage in agility and speed against armored knights. Mr. Abe, have Mr. Bennet’s party rejoin the main party, inform him the element of surprise has been lost. Nephenee, you’re… you’re with me. Rilolia, I have no clue what you do, so do as you see fit. Yazu, stop playing with the leaf and do something about the bad people approaching us.”

Within seconds, the two groups met in a flurry of combat. Chad stepped aside as the leading knight charged him. He stepped into the charging knight’s wake to kick the man off balance, but the enemy recovered as quickly as he had charged in, and the captain was forced to leap back to avoid the cleave of the armor clad man’s claymore. The Astopolian garrison was small, but definitely no slouch, Chad realized. He dodged another attack from a second knight, deliberately avoiding parrying the knights’ heavier swords with his light weapon, knowing that the lighter smallsword would not take the beating from the types of weapons that heavy knights wielded. Breaking away, he rejoined with Mr. Bennet and Nephenee, who had both taken up a defensive position along Lyra’s shields.

After the initial contact, it became clear that the knights’ goal was Lyra and her position, which was now at the right-flank of the group. The trio engaged the first knight that arrived, with Mr. Bennet directly engaging the lance knight with his heavier broadsword. At the same time, Nephenee stepped in with a polite with a polite “excuse me,” and with a flash and a bit of a refined flourish, took hold of the knight's arm and weapon. With a twist of her arm and a fraction of an upward force, she hyperextended the man’s elbow backwards, cracking his joints. The man released the weapon with a scream, and with a swipe of the polearm, the battlemaid knocked the man back towards Chad, who delivered a well-placed finishing stab through the visor. A second knight, coming to the aid of his fallen comrade, was knocked over by the swing of Nephenee’s poached weapon. Taking no liberties with her time, the maid drove the spear into the man’s chest.

“Just like old times,” commented Nephenee as she doubled back.

“From defending against stagecoach bandits to fighting Astopolian knights,” said Chad, with a grimace, having been forced to parry an incoming knight.

“An apt comparison.”

[ERode]

The first round of lightning, their preemptive attack, proved to be less effective than she had expected. The mage on the side of the invaders seemed to be well-versed in defensive magics, and, as a result, the follow-up attack by the knights didn't deal as many casualties as she would have liked. Quickly enough, the enemy had recovered, and now, they were bringing it into an extended brawl. The commander, this time taking an overhead view of the situation, realized two important facts.

The majority of that woman's defensive magics were concentrated skywards, as if she had somehow already known about the possibility of Einzershalt's bombardments.

There was a second group of invaders who were rejoining the main group, adding to the offense.

While the number of casualties still favoured the side of the knights, with the majority of the unarmored invaders showing just how inexperienced they were, they were still outnumbered by a reasonable amount, and every extra knight that fell just widened the numerical disadvantage.

The woman touched the pulsating glyphs that ran across stone surface, before issuing new commands to her men.

Keep them packed close, knights, but prioritize your own lives and stay light on your feet. Mages, switch to ground-based attacks. Start off by destabilizing the terrain. Focus on support, not offense.

---

Amongst all the carnage, within the din of combat, Yazu was absorbed in her own world. Or, perhaps, it was the world of others that she was absorbed in. The conditions for the curse that afflicted her had, despite her best attempts, triggered once more when the round of lightning had scattered everyone's shadows. And in just the briefest moment, she had stepped into the shadows of one.

She didn't know his name beforehand, nor did she care, but now, she knew everything about him. Every small lie, every past transgression, every itty-bitty sin that Chad had committed.

That ship captain's words fell onto deaf ears as, for the first time in a long time, the half-elf being was wrapped in the past of another person. And, as blurred shadows struck her again and again, she could feel her own morality and consciousness becoming swept away. The waltz of blades around her served to latch more and more knowledge onto her, until she was smothered by the weight of everyone's pasts.

Her mind was seared, and she could feel the kiss of a cold blade dragging across her flesh, letting out her black blood.

And slowly, unperturbed by the injuries that she bore, the injuries that she attained simply by standing still, Yazu made her judgement.

They were all bad people, and all bad people should disappear.

The ground trembled as blackness seeped from her body.

---

Rilolia wanted no part in the battle, and the vampire was pretty certain that even if she did, there was little that she could do. The invocation of the dead took too long in the middle of a battle, and while she could once hide within the heavy armor of Dead Gear, now, she was virtually useless. She never was one to fight with her barehands, even when vampires were physically stronger than the normal human.

Retreating backwards from the fray and wincing at the first roar of clashing metal, the vampire instead ran around the battlefield, scattering into a swarm of bats as she flew low and spread out. Lyra was, thankfully, doing a good job of mitigating the damage of those lightning strikes, or Rilolia would have to run all the way up over the summit. From her bat's eye view, she wasn't exactly sure who was winning the fight, but hopefully, Chad would order a retreat when he remembered that they were there to rescue Vance, not to fight Astopolian jailers.

Cresting low, the swarm could visibly see the ground tremble as another act of magic was done, no doubt to disable the slight edge in mobility that the airship crewmen had. She had hoped that the effects would be minor, but it was clear that the sudden change had caught the men off guard. More were cut down, and her sensibility to the dead had allowed her to see their souls leave their bodies right at the moment of their death.

Perhaps she should have felt some sadness, but she couldn't. She barely knew them, after all, and those that she DID care for were still alive and fighting.

The swarm of bats packed close together once more and melted into a pillar-shaped blob. With the excess of the dark materials shedded as black fog, Rilolia returned to her humanoid form again. Spotting a lonely hole on the peak of the mountain, she immediately dashed towards it, sliding onto her knees. She grabbed onto the iron gridding and peered into the hole. There was only darkness present, and realizing that even the eyes of a Talze Uteran couldn't discern the contents of that dungeon, she called out, hopeful and hopeless at the same time, “Vance, are you there? Don't g-”

An unnatural scream echoed behind her, cutting her off.

---

A man was crushed, his body flattened and smeared against the ground, as if a child was painting clumsily with their hands.

“Free free free free money! Five thousand three hundred and triple dozen coppers reduced by ten thousand more and scattered in Hope and Haven and Safe and and and and and and and!” She clenched her hands over her face, as if trying to pull it off.

Swathes of corruption spun around her, dark whips sending people flying through the air like rag dolls.

“Evict evict evict evict allllllll the bad guys! Kill the wifey, eat the mother, set fires, party hard, let's have a fun time and feast going down the zero from minus 1 for every stubble on the chinny chin chin!” She clawed at her throat, tearing out strips of red flesh that regenerated moments later.

Dark, thorny spikes rose from the ground, skewering whomever it caught and scattering their organs into the sky.

“Monster monster monster mother father a-a-a-a-ah I can't see dark scared black black black all black sins what no stay array may leave me alone no stay here leave me not together cold ah hahahahahahahaha why don't you just stay today after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day?” She fell onto her knees, crying out thick globs of dark ooze as she scraped out her eyes, only for them to come back moments later.

Underground, the commander watched all this madness, watched as friend and foe alike were ravaged by this madness, before hardening her heart and sending out a new message, to a safer place, a far away place.

Einzershalt, begin bombardment.

---

From underneath Koestace, a rift was opened and another monster was unleashed. A beast that had only been encountered once during the entirety of the Talentless Strife. A monster that brought fame to Knigt Commander Mirelle, but served to make her into the same type of monster.

The gargantuan rift-beast known only as the World-Eater stretched out one of its six limbs and smashed through the side of the mountain. An avalanche of boulders and dirt swept over it, but it disregarded such a minor obstacle, as another of its gray limbs pierced through the side of the mountain.

Over and over again, it shattered the 'cage' that contained it, until the beast could finally stride out, the mountain trembling with its escape.

Above, was an unnatural thing, something that bustled with panicked life. The citadel of Koestace, known as one of the safest fortresses amongst all three countries.

Step by step, the World-Eater began to scale the mountain, ascending towards that puny fortress.

Far away, seated on the top most part of a tree, the man in red smiled.

A bit flashy, but it'd get the job done.