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Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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The Eleventh Path

---

There were of course, many questions to be answered. And he'd answer them.

Jack walked in behind the rest of the 317, back to where he was before stepping out. Letting them meet the others and get on as they would, he took to explaining things as best as possible. There was much to do, but thankfully, time in the Eleventh Path moved differently by design. One hour here was only forty minutes in Shimmer, roughly speaking. They could spend additional time discussing particulars here and have time to spare back home. Jack mentally counted the minutes between now and when Greenwood was due to step in, a chronological calculation he could keep track of thanks to a clock on the wall, which flipped between relative time and Shimmer's as he thought of it. The simple wonder of this pocket realm was the sheer control one gained when creating it from raw Lux.

"The plan, as I understand it, is to divide ourselves into two groups," Jack explained. "One to distract the Elite with brute force, and the other to raid their vault. Decide for yourselves where your skills are more appropriate."

”In the last few days I’ve met with a contact to get an in with Blake Schmidt- a way for me to access his dreams. It would be ruined if I’m caught raiding his island for Artifacts, and then our second option for if this fails is gone.”

”You failed to mention it, but I presume our plan is to take Kari’s notes along with the Artifacts? We don’t want them deciphered by the House of Cards, even if the Artifacts will be more useful to us.”

Anya

“What sort of… artifacts are you hoping they'll hold? Is it worth risking the lives of the living?”

Alizee

"If we can find her notes, then we will," he nodded. "But our primary goal is the artifacts: The Map of the Drunken Sailor and the Mirror on the Wall. They are information-gathering tools, which is what we are after. They will point us in the right direction, and lead us to Father Wolf."

Sloane walked over, and Jack didn't give her any reason not to pick up the Brass Needle. She looked terrible, a far cry from the usually dignified, noble air she cultivated. Had she heard the news of the murders before now? It worried Jack that among the people assembled, only a few seemed to be taking it this badly.

“Also, Jack, you found Auri, yes? Do you have the Butterfly Staff? I’d happily lend out my Counterfeit for the raid if I can hold on to the original.”

Sloane

He caught the look she was giving Luca. A plan to replace his Rot with something less malignant?

"I did not find her. Britney did," he said, knowing what she was attempting to convey. "The Butterfly Staff is across the hall right now, in our artifact vault. I considered returning it to Auri's family out of respect. But-" Surely they'd understand. "We have more important things to concern ourselves with. I'll pull it from there for you shortly." That was the sign that he picked up on it.

"And I want to make something clear to all of you." Jack gestured to the Sycamore members in particular. "Should any of you decide not to participate in the raid, you won't be judged for it. Not everyone can comfortably fight to the death in these situations, and there is no shame in acknowledging that. This was Greenwood's and the 317's plan. Not ours, so only join them if you know you can handle this."

---

Rohan

A grizzled old man followed the 317 into the Eleventh Path, wearing all black like the rest of them. Black gloves, black shoes, black everything. Only he also carried an animal mask, a longbow, a comical amount of arrows, and a wooden scepter made of ashen oak. Rohan was rarely seen outside the 317's compound, barring an odd job fixing floors or moving furniture. But tonight, he was ready for war. He looked around the room and studied the people gathered. Octavia and Faith were cool with these people, that was enough for Rohan.

"If you need weapons, I can scrounge something up," He said, speaking up in a gruff, yet mellowed out voice. "I don't make them that often, but I have some in my shop. This staff can turn just about anything to ash, magic protections or not... Name's Rohan, by the way. I'm with them." He pointed a finger at Octavia and Jordan. "And I'll be up on somewhere high, picking people off so the way's clear. I brought medical supplies, too. If anyone wants or needs a rundown on first aid, grab me before we go."

X-Men: GenetiX

”Yeah, you’re looking at it,” Ryder commented, pointing a thumb at herself. ”Me. All I have to do is get in there and the whole building is mine to fucking control. They made me so I’d be that powerful, they just didn’t think I’d be more just powerful.”

The images on the screen shifted to a map of the computer systems. ”Everything in there is redundant- One thing breaks, something else picks up the slack and keeps operating. I’ll cripple it regardless, so the bastardized have to actually worry about keeping their systems up.” Diagrams of the elevator system appeared and demonstrated that there was no possible way to get anywhere quickly without them. Shutting them off as well as other intersectional systems would prevent the vast majority of the guards from doing anything about their assault.

”I’ll be heading down as deep as possible, so don’t try and slow me down.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

I’d get him kicked of there too but murder would be involved

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

I’m getting Jack banned from the Card Shark at some point now.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Veil

---

”Don’t leave me here…” Amara’s legs were giving out, as the warmth of her blood slid down her stomach. Her left foot wasn’t working anymore, thanks to the severed tendon. She had tried to fight back, but the stomach wound was what decided she’d die here.

There was no one in this city of haze and glass for miles. Her old friend stared down at her, his dagger clenched in his hand. In hindsight, maybe she should has seen Hayden’s betrayal sooner. All that talk of “magic,” all that talk of the supernatural and people who saw visions of animals… It was always nonsense to her but he had shown it to her once. They were kids, and they would run down the paths into the bushes where his parents grew fellberries. They’d sneak until the bridge and Haden would show him little ghostly mice that he’d conjured with what he called golden Lux.

They were adults now, and so much had happened since those days. He had started creating dogs, then bears, then people out of that strange magical energy. And slowly, ironic as it was, the real people he had in his life had started fading out as one of his homunculi went rogue. Everyone surrounding him had been slowly murdered and it was Amara who found out.

She found out when a bullet went through her window, killing her father while Haden was helping him with their boiler. It was an accident, and Haden somehow knew that.

So now she begged at his feet. She begged for her life, begged that her friend wouldn’t betray her and let her die alone. She didn’t have anybody. All her childhood friends went on to university a few cities over, in that new school that a lord had sponsored. But her dad was old, so she took care of him when he needed it.

And sometimes she’d even fight monsters. Haden’s mother taught her swordplay when she was young. It was thrilling, and it paid for things.

She couldn’t fight back with her broken wrist, though.

“I can’t let you tell anyone about this, Amara…” Haden closed the distance between them and shoved her face into the cobblestone road. Her vision inverted and swam.

“I can’t let anyone know it was my fault my family died. My sister, my wife-“

”You weren’t-“ Amara coughed up blood. ”You weren’t going to marry her… She had that apprenticeship in Morrha… Your creature shot my father, Haden!” Amara tried to stand, but his dagger cut her across the eye and planted her right back on the ground.

“I mourn for Kyro, my friend. I do. But the Guard will hang me or worse if they know it was my Lux who killed them all.” Haden’s breath hitched in his throat at the thought. The Guard were magic prosecutors, working their way into every little use of paranormal abilities to regulate it.

If they found him, there was no telling what they’d do.

Amara’s blood mingled with tears that pricked at her eyes. Her hands started to tremble as she pushed herself upright. ”I- Look at me- Please… Haden…” She sobbed. ”I can help you… You created it! You know how to kill it and I can fight for you!”

Haden looked away from her with his dour, green eyes, and up into the cloudy sky above. As if expecting the three moons to give him an answer, he just sighed.

Did her only friend really want to kill her? Couldn’t he trust her?

”Don’t you remember? When we were just children and we always looked out for one another?” Amara’s chest felt cold. ”When- When you got in trouble with the consul at the court? I snuck you out. I…”

Her breath caught in her throat. ”I pulled you out of the river with a broken wrist… I stood up for you when you were interrogated a year ago. Your mother-“

Haden sunk the dagger into Amara’s collarbone, and she screamed.

“My mother is dead,” he growled. Amara’s vision twisted until she couldn’t see straight, she was on fire and cold as ice at the same time. She tried to pull away from the searing pain but only slipped on her own blood.

“I don’t think you’d keep quiet.” He ripped the knife out, and her left arm felt numb.

“So, I’m sorry…”

Stab.

“My old friend, Amara…”

Stab.

“But it’s just too convenient to get rid of you.”

STAB.

Amara wailed and cried with each fresh wound Haden opened. It was more pain than she knew a person could experience, more blood than she knew someone had inside them. She was too weak to stop him, only able to claw at his face with a bloody hand. And when Haden knew for sure that there was no fight left within her, he stood up and walked away.

She fought so hard to stop him. For an entire hour, they traded blows in this alleyway. Amara with fists and Haden with a sharp blade. But in the end, he knew her too well. And now she was unmade, lying in a dirty alleyway while her blood pooled.

She was dying. And yet she was all too lucid for death.

Everything was black to her. Shapes and lines with no color. Just foggy blots of ink.

Amara King saw a dog, fur like shadows and eyes like her stained hands. She felt a haze of apathy wrap itself around her, like a warm coat. It beckoned to her, it spoke of the continuance that all things experienced. That Death comes for all.

Amara felt cold indifference take her, and she made a choice.

”…”No.”

It was in that moment when Death came for her, that something foundational to the human condition cracked. That fear she fought against, that desire to live, to fight, it rubbed off on the world, and the cold feeling of nothingness fell like ash. A force of determination slipped the jaws of black oblivion, and it endured.

At first there was pain.

Then there was nothing.

And then, there was only war.

Sparkle

---

She marched through the tundra snow, crossbow held aloft. The wind whipped around her and threatened to cut right through her, but the ghosts stayed exactly within range, their formation just tight enough that one wouldn't lose the others. A single file line, like a pack of wolves following each other in a chain.

They followed the thin trail of red that blurred against the fresh snow. It was all she needed to keep the Staghorn within killing distance. Amara followed, pointing her weapon this way and that, just in case any of the bastard managed to leap out at her through the thick haze of grey that surrounded her. They loved snowstorms, there could be a dozen of them around here. Her fingers were numb beneath the thick gloves she wore, but she trusted her squad to jump in if her shot failed.

Each of the specters bore a weapon of their own, enchanted by the Quartermaster back home to take these beasts down quicker; A spear infused with holly oil, a rifle that could skipped bullets and simply put holes in things, two daggers that always hit a target if thrown together, a fire breathing shotgun, and a chain that partially sealed everything struck with it. Her crossbow could punch holes through solid rock, and so far it had made short work of two Staghorns. One of their skulls was packed up in her bag for later.

In this valley, they had been breeding so much that they were spilling out and down into Canada. An enclave of green Adepts mutated them into monsters to act as some kind of sick working class, but they were all killed months ago. Now, they were killing people in her town, and people started talking about the killings from outside town. And by damn she wouldn't let such a thing foment in her territory.

Seven.

Amara turned almost 180 degrees and pointed her crossbow forward. The knife-wielding ghost flung both of its weapons into that blanket of alabaster fog, and a shriek rang out as the creature slid forward. It came to a dead stop just before them, the knives embedded right into each eye.

”We’re getting close!” She shouted, over the wind. ”Front and gamma, take the advance! Find the nest and circle back to center. We’re going home when they’re all dead and nothing sooner!”

And so they marched, and razed a den of abominations to the ground.

Stars

---

Blades of ivory swooped just inches away from bee face as she ducked beneath Kirk’s swords. Every swing threatened to put her in the kind of pain that sapped a person’s strength despite hurting very little. Her army could’ve move, they were immobilized in their ghostly state by the swords. He drove her into a corner, and she dove under his arms as he tore through the brick walls.

”Chief!” A voice on her somalink shouted. It was almost hard to hear him over the rain. ”What’s your position?! We’re almost-“

BANG! Chief Amara King raised her mana pistol and fired it straight into Kirk’s chest, only for their latent magic to kick in at just the right time and deflect the bullet.

The blue Adept laughed, and advanced. That was what she wanted.

”Hold your god damned positions, Rosh,” Amara answered back without breaking a sweat. She tossed her gun overhead and swung her legs low. A technique often learned by those who studied capoeira, known as a zentosai. Kirk assumed she was trying to get a cheap shot in on him, and she was, but the gun was misdirection.

Kirk’s legs went out from underneath him, and he swore something in German. His curse-channeling swords clattered to the floor and Amara took a step back. Touching them was enough for his Ten Agonies to take hold, one of her captains learned that the hard away. Her gun fell before one of the phantoms, as she intended.

And this was the moment she sprung her trap. The phantoms flickered out of existence, and five more took their pace who weren’t cursed. Kirk didn’t know she could do that.

One picked up the mana pistol and hammered it across Kirk’s face just as he was getting to his feet, and three more grappled him.

And just like that, he was taken out. He needed his swords to cast his spells.

Amara pinged her somalink. ”All squads, Kirk is disarmed. Sending my location, prep the van for class nine. Bring a blue vessel for the swords.”

Arcane Peace Enforcement bans rolled through the rain and stopped in a circle around the chief. They fired anti-Lux drugs into him as her phantoms flickered out. He screamed in bloody agony as they filled his system and fell to the pavement.

“Bastards- Lightfather as my witness… You’ll all suffer when we’re through with you!” The scraggly man bellowed, and Rosh clamped a somatic mask over his mouth.

”I want him questioned by Viglance ASAP. We’re sending these fucking vagrants back the way they came, and he’s gonna help us do it.” Amara took her gun back from a phantom, and her subordinates took over.

The crystal pinned to her uniform chimed, signaling a message.

“Chief, we got word that more came in through the south side.”

”Get Mahayla and Vastel on that. We’re on our way.”

If the League of Luminescence thought they were going to get an easy win, they had another thing coming. Amara climbed into a van, and her squad sped off.

Moonbow

---

A phalanx of some three hundred phantoms marched into the canyon with Amara the Grey at the forefront. Flanked on each side by Grandmaster Crom and Diana, she led the army into the resting place of the dragon. Red rock flaked beneath them, the steady thundering of feet walking in perfect unison shook the walls. Amara nodded at Diana, and she sent her sprits ahead.

The plan was simple, provoke the dragon to make it come to them, fight it out of its comfort zone, and bring its corpse back to the Necropolis. Crom withdrew his athame, and the old man called forth a tornado that touched down a mile away.

Every phantom raised a longbow, and readied enchanted arrows. They waited silently, and after minutes passed, a figure the size of a mountain streak across the sky.

“You know what to do,” the necromancer whispered to the wraiths she bound, through the link they shared. “Drain it until it falls, make it land.”

“I’ll push it this way.” Crom flicked his channeler through the air, and the tornado warped in ways a tornado never did. Like bending a chain, it whipped around in place and smacked the beast’s wing. The old Adept saw this as child’s play.

”Phantoms! This is where we stop the monster’s streak!” The commander of Sablerock shouted. ”We’ll bring this thing down at last, and make sure it doesn’t rise again!”

The dragon was a zombie, a revenant that fed of life like a ghoul. Twice it had been slain, and twice it had risen again. Amara’s court had finally devised a way to ensure it stayed dead, by binding the creature within a prison fabricated from its own heart. The ritual would last two weeks, and require intense labor. But their people were powerful, this would be the worst of it. She had faith in them.

Ghostly figures hacked away with spears, siphoning what life energy it had and slowly compelling the undead dragon to fall.

FIRE!

All at once, three hundred arrows were released into the sky above the Earth. And all at once, they landed. Her spirits were were trained for war in days before time had a name, simple archery was second nature to them. Every last arrow struck it, piercing flesh and wing alike.

No one believed it would be enough, but that was why they planned for a longer campaign into this canyon. The dragon screeched, and the army readied another volley. Amara signaled again, and they let loose another hail.

The dragon exhaled incarnate Death itself, turning the wood of the arrows to ash and the silver to tarnished sands. Clouds above the dragon compressed into swords no smaller than the dragon, and they cleaved at its scales.

Grandmaster Crom, Voice of the Wind and Father of the Skies, unleashed another trick upon the beast. One moment, he was a mortal man of eighty years. The next, he was the wind, invisible as breath and fast as thunder. He appeared atop the dragon’s head between its horns with his arms crossed.

Amara gave a signal, and the man simply nodded.

He plunged his athame into its eye, which elicited a crack that reverberated across the canyon and shook Heaven. Blood rained down thick as water, and the rotting dragon veered into a cliff.

“Now that’s gotten close enough, I think we’ll be finished soon,” Crom remarked, standing next to Diana and their commander once again.

”Break the monster!” Amara shouted.

The phantom army obeyed, for there was only war.

Radiance

---

”I’m scared.”

Amara hung from a branch, fiddling with a knife that Reyes had left her. Tara looked up at her and cracked a grin.

“You? Scared? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

”I’m serious. We don’t know how much longer it’ll be.” She stated out at the front lawn of the school, which was perfectly fine weeks ago. Yet now, it was full of creatures that made mockeries of humanity at night, only to persist in the morning if they weren’t killed.

Amara and Tara had taken to luring them out at night, whenever their parents had gone to bed, so they wouldn’t drag anyone down into the earth. So far, only two kids their age had been taken. The whole town thought it was a murderer on the loose.

”What if they don’t stop, you know?”

Tara floated up to eye level with Amara. “Yeah. I know. And what if we can’t kill them all? But we’ll be fine, okay?” The curly haired girl was always the optimistic one. Amara herself wasn’t so sure, though.

“Your ghosts have been reaching you knife fighting, right? Reyes told me they’re pretty knife-able.”

”Yeah… But I mean- They killed Wallace. They probably killed Emmet too, and we still haven’t seen him. How long are they going to keep coming?”

And tk make it worse, Reyes still hadn’t called back in. The guy was twice their age and moved into town after his white Lux rolled him off about something happening in their town. Amara just happened to be on his level in terms of training, so they all started working together. Her phantoms were out searching for him since yesterday morning. The guy was pretty damn okay.

“Hey…” Tara floated closer and kissed Amara on the forehead. “You worry too much, you know? I don’t like seeing you so worried.”

Amara blinked. ”…Nice time to break the news.”

Tara giggled. “Well, hey, I like you. Sorta always have.”

Amara put the knife away, sat up and jumped down, fixing a funny look on Tara. She always had feelings for her too, but…

”I- Yeah. Me too. I didn’t think you’d tell me now, though.” Amara slowly leaned in and returned the kiss. Her face felt cold against Amara’s. Tara gently wrapped her hands around Amara and embraced her. In the late night, the kiss was something special. Something Amara had never experienced before. It was nice, sort of.

When they broke off, Amara was frowning.

“What’s up? I won’t tell anyone, if you don’t want me to.”

”It’s not that. It’s just… Something’s wrong.”

“Like what?”

”You know how my phantoms can talk to me through my head? Well…”

Whoosh.

Amara swung Reyes’ knife right into Tara’s throat. She looked down at the knife like it didn’t even happen.

”I can talk to them too,” She continued, holding up the knife. The blood dripping from it was a sickly shade of yellow. ”And I had one watching your house all night. The real you is upstairs right now, watching movies and texting her boyfriend that I know she didn’t break up with.”

The mimic stumbled back, its eyes went from hazel to black as it gasped for breath. They spied on her, and they could apparently copy magic. Amara wiped her new knife off on the thing’s shirt.

She had the phantom guarding Tara’s house sneak in and warn her not to leave the house, and tell her that Amara was coming.

She fears for Reyes.

He’s not coming back. And if he does, you’re all ordered to kill him.

We endure. We outlast. We are War itself.

---

”We have existed long before you. In an age of swords, we first manifested.”

“In times of word and wit, we are the tactician. In times of strife, we are the blade. What are you, if not the soldier who lives to die?”

”Get the fuck away from me. I hate all of you. I am nothing like you.”

”You are the Soldier. We are the Army. Your fate is to fight and pass, and so your time is yours to spend. Spend it well.”

”You call that a life well spent? Dying alone in some fucking battle no one cares about.”

”Amara King is never alone.”

”I just wanted a normal life, away from all this shit. I never wanted to be a fucking Soldier.

”It is your path in life to be the warrior. You are not the gardener, and you never shall be.”

”Who gave you the right to decide that for me? I don’t want this. I don’t want what you all became...”

”War is not a question of desire. It is-“

”I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING WAR!!!”

There is War, young Soldier, and War alone.”

”I don’t fucking care… Just leave me alone.”

…

What? Finally giving it a rest?

…

…Good. Stay that way for once. You’re all fucking insufferable. The only reason I keep you around is because we need you if we’re going to survive that Snake.

I was alone once, before we were One. I remember the suffering of it. No warriors to keep the peace.

You will never feel that pain, my Soldier.

Never again.

SPIRITUM

---

Morden hasn't bothered with stopping the execution of Ivan. He was torn between two thoughts. The first was that Ivan had betrayed Rassvet by even attempting to bankroll a mutiny, and thus was absolutely subject to capital punishment. It was people like him who inched the nation further and further to defeat, who made things worse for those fighting for freedom. And in that sense, Kalina been merciful towards the man she apparently knew quite well. And yet, in another sense, they were soldier. Powerful soldiers with the capacity to take out entire squads with nothing but their bare hands, but soldiers nonetheless. It wasn't in their discretion, nor was it their place to decide how judgement was to be handed down. That was the responsibility of the Rassvet courts, not a few soldiers charged with fighting on the ground.

They were extensions of Rassvet's power, its defenders. They protected civilians. Ivan betrayed his country, but he was still a citizen of Rassvet. Wasn't he subject to a trial? A court martial? Kalina just took the law into her own hands, and he didn't even fight back.

Morden felt wrong, seeing this and doing nothing about it. But what could he do? There were laws, but he wasn't in a position to enforce them anymore than the person who just executed a man.

So he turned around and didn't bother, unsure of what exactly he was meant to feel.

"...We have somewhere to be."

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Needle in a Haystack

---

The meeting room was bathed in the light of shadowflame while Jack poured over his books and notes. He had every splayed out on the table, going over every little detail twice and thrice. A clock on the wall ticked away, only a few minutes and Kenshiro should be arriving, apparently with Drake in tow. That would certainly be interesting, if things went south.

Luca had said he wasn’t interested in the Brass Needle’s potential, and that was his right. But Jack was of the opinion that any tool they could get their hands on was one they should. It would help them, and they didn’t have much to lose anyway. As long as things went to plan just long enough to break in, they could spiral out of control once they were done.

Outside the meeting room, Kenshiro was walking up the path toward the doors with Drake by his side. He was doing his best to explain the Eleventh Path without overloading Drake's brain.
”-long story significantly shorter, we basically can give you a key. Its purely based on your Purple Lux and its unique signature, so all you need to do is channel a spell, and with my approval, it'll recognize you from now on.”

As they walked, the shadowflame braziers caught alight to maintain visibility along the path.

Drake walked alongside Kenshiro with his arms behind his head, sunglasses, jeans, a leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath.

”Like ANY spell, bro?” Drake asked. ”You know Purple ain't my favorite color.” He shot Kenshiro finger guns.

”You’ll want to change that quickly, Drake.” Jack looked up from his work. ”Where we are going, your lightning spells may not be the most useful, if we can return easily.”

He stood up, and walked over. ”I’ve tracked down the location of the Brass Needle to a world known as Gloom. It is a world with very, very few Adepts. As such, we will need to be discreet unless it is absolutely necessary to defend ourselves.”

”And you damn well know I mean Purple, you too-cute fuck.” Ken chided.
”Now, I have limited experience with Gloom. I’ve gathered enough conventional arms for the three of us to use. Bladed weapons and the like- But, no Samurai ever denied a good rifle… Do they use conventional firearms?”

”They do,” Jack nodded. ”Time is different, there. It moves quicker than Shimmer, yet they are comparatively in the past. That is not particularly unusual, but it means we will stand out if we are not careful. There is no internet, no wireless anything. They are still in an age of radios. If we are seen and identified as Adepts, we will need to return to Shimmer immediately. I cannot stress that enough.”

Drake cracked a shiteating-grin for the ages, ”... You say that like we’re going to be the ones in danger!” He created a volt-blade in his hands and gave it a few twirls.

He fixed an unamused look at Drake. ”Centuries ago, a creature known as the Light-Eater descended on Gloom, and killed over ninety-five percent of the Adepts there. Ever since, it has used the collective Lux of all its countless victims to duplicate itself, and now there are minor versions of Light-Eaters in every corner of the planet. If we are discovered, we will be killed. They hide in plain sight, using twisted versions of Lux to prey on others. That sword will only make them stronger.”

Ken pointed at Jack with a shocked look on his face.
”Oh, it’s that fucking place!? Yeah, Drake, please… Keep it out of sight. We should take the path less traveled when entering…”

The Voltblade disappeared as Drake shrugged, ”We waiting on Aislin? Do we know exactly where it is or do we gotta look around?”

”I have pinpointed its location. I briefly went there during the night, just long enough to confirm its location. There is an old estate in a city on the west coast, that seemed to be largely untouched by the Blind. Although, there is a paranormal presence there. I do not know more than that.”

He waved the door into existence, and opened it into the 317’s lobby. ”I discussed all of this with Aislin already, she knew before now. I thought she’d be with you two.”

”We should at least make sure she’s okay,” Drake added. ”Something could have happened to her.”

”I appreciate the strategic usefulness of Sister Aislin… Do you think they have Marijuana in Gloom? Maybe we can dose the Light-Eater with grass and watch it get lazy…” Ken laughed, peering into the door to 317's lobby.

”I… I have never been to this facility. Kari went, but I had pressing matters. Should we all go?”

”We would survive longer if we did. Light-Eaters are not the only danger in Gloom. The city we are bound for is no less politically unstable than St. Portwell. Perhaps more. If we come across an Adjoined or Afflicted, as we are more likely to, we can reasonably defend ourselves.”

Ken pointed at the door.
”I meant the loony bin for artists, Jack… How could Kari have made it to Gloom?” he asked, straight face questioning Jack's sense.

”Do I need to answer that?”

”I don't think you could, and even if you could, I don't think it'd make any sense.” he shook his head again.

”Wait… If you know exactly where it is, why don't you just Edgy-Step there and grab it?” Drake asked, crossing his arms. ”Why do we need to assemble a fucking search party for it? We can all be drinking beer on that fatass Sully!” Drake laughed.

”Because, Drake, my teleportation spell does not work across universes. To get there, I will be opening void portals, which take more time. And I am vulnerable when doing so,” Jack explained, patiently. ”And in that time, Light-Eaters could find me alone and outnumbered.”

”Jack… The doors? Sage Kai made a path to Gloom long before the Light Eaters had their day. I'm certain it's still active, and we'll need you at full strength if we need to make a quick escape!” Ken chided, swinging his hand about.

”Is that so?” He asked. ”Good. That makes this much simpler. They are not known to frequent that area, but they can sense Lux from a considerable distance away. The more we use our Lux, the more likely they are to find us, so I recommend we only cast our more powerful spells when necessary.”

“Ooooi!”Came the exasperated voice and tip-tap of shoes as Aislin launched out of one of the paintings in 317's lobby. She ran straight into the doorway portal, placing her hands on her knees, huffing. She was dressed down into timeless garb, clothing that could blend in more easily. And she had two bags, a backpack and a cross-shoulder bag.

“Man, tell my disorganized ass to clean my studio when we get back. It took forever to find what we need.”

She hefted one of the packs. “Emergency stuff, gauze, water, disinfectant, snacks, _weed.”

The other she patted fondly. “This one's all me.”

Aislin cleared her throat. “Jack, Mr. Ken, Drake,” A smile. “Are we ready to go get this thang?”

”We are, but remember what we discussed before now. Minimum use of Lux, we stay near one another at all times, and we try to be subtle.”

Aislin nodded, a touch of seriousness in her tone. ”Of course.”

Ken couldn't help himself but laugh at Aislin's enthusiasm and cantor.
”And keep the smoke to a minimum… As much as I respect your ability to pack your lungs full of the stuff, it reeks! If someone sniffs us out, I will personally remove a pinkie in shame.” he grinned, holding up his pinkie and waggling it at her.

Aislin grinned, saluting the man, “Got it, sensei.”

Having brought something like a roll of carpet, Ken placed the bundle down and let it roll out to reveal a multitude of Japanese-style melee weapons. Sai, katana, kusarigama, tanto and kunai, sleeves on sleeves of throwing stars-
”These are armaments I collected from my old village. Things I could gather before the cleaning crew arrived… Take your pick, you three.”

Aislin’s eyes lit up, before looking at Ken. “You sure about this? These sound a little special.”

”Oh, absolutely. These were mass-produced and easily made by our smiths based on patterns accepted by Sage Kai. They’re simply useful to have en-masse, as I have a summoning spell which can sometimes require a great deal of weapons and no support from any of the other Clans to get more.” he grinned.
”Sometimes, for the thrill of it, I go and steal them from other Clans. Bastards…” he laughed, smiling to himself.

“Oh, wonderful then.” Aislin said with a relaxed smirk, and picked up a few of the throwing stars, stashing them in her bag.

”Pfft!” Drake laughed as he created a spear from lightning. ”You know I’m good!”

Jack took a tanto and a few kunais, securing them beneath his coat. ”As long as you keep your casting to a minimum, you should be fine, then.”

Ken shook his head disappointedly.
”Drake… Ugh…”
Ken tossed his hands up in frustration, rolling the rug back up and sliding it off into one of the side rooms off the main area. He was mumbling to himself in Japanese, which only stopped as he rejoined the group.
”Well… Are we expecting anyone else? Or are we ready to move out?”

”We are ready. This will only take a moment,” Jack began, holding a hand up and willing a Void portal into existence. ”We will cross through the Void for a brief moment, and then arrive in Gloom.”

The portal flickered into reality, a black disc of Lux that showed ever so faint traces of light on the other side.

---

It was late in the world of Gloom. The sky was a watercolor tapestry of blues overtaking shades of orange, stars overtaking pale clouds from morning rain. Buildings of brick and mortar stretched into the air, as crowd after crowd filed onto unmarked streets of cobblestone. The cars were quiet, beyond the occasional wail of a horn in traffic, and there were more people leaving work by foot than wheel today.

Over city hall, a whale of red smoke meandered by, ignored by eyes unopened. The people of Moreno were a veritable blur of browns, blues and grays. The cars were all but identical to one another, except for the colors, drab yet with a hint of character in their own right. Aislin, Drake, Kenshiro and Jack stepped out of the Void and atop the tallest building, from which they were little more than a pinprick on the sky. This was a quiet, sleepy land they had entered.

Jack took in a breath, the air was clear as water here.

”Welcome to Moreno. The City of Spirits.”

Ken felt the wind wash over the roof they were on, shrugging his shoulders and causing his equipment to rattle about.
”Cold isn’t it? Fuckin’ early Spring?” he rubbed his arms.

”... That’s why you need to wear a jacket, bruh!” Drake laughed.

“Or layer it up.” Aislin added, pulling the cloth draped over her arm to expose at least two more layers.

Aislin's eyes passed over the streets, then the sky. “Man, I could really paint the scene here… But!” She adjusted the strap of her bag. “We're on strict business, aren't we?”

”Yes. The estate is at the edge of the city. I’ll teleport us there, but once I do, we will need to be careful,” Jack said. ”Light Eaters tend to stay in the less populated places. They cannot blend in as easily as most other things.”

”Jack, I am amazed you’ve yet to forget how your legs work…”
Tightening his gear, he pointed across the city.
”We’ll expend less magic by simply dumping our weight and floating across town, no?” he asked, his hands instinctively curling together to begin the somatic sequence for a group Enlighten without touching it off.

---

Night fell across the city, and with the help of Kenshiro’s magic, they discreetly found their way to the Calderson Estate. A spacious home paved with concrete and lined with well-managed hedges, yet some of the smaller buildings were draped with layers of moss as if someone hadn’t tended to them. Street lamps that should have burned bright merely flickered in the early night, just well enough that the artifact hunters could barely see a fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

The place was dead silent. They were the only ones obviously here.

Ken was, he figured, the most used to traditional infiltration techniques. Magical alarms were out of the question, but physical alarms were plentiful in ways one may not even expect. It didn’t have to be a siren that screamed out when a connection was broken, nor did it involve some sort of mercurial fuse system to cause a security switch to flick itself.
Sometimes it was the household pet. Sometimes it was the night owl unexpectedly fishing for a late night snack.

”There’s no chance we know how deep the needle is inside the facility, right?” he quietly asked Jack.

Aislin was on the other side of Jack, her voice a whisper. “I can bend the doors and walls away; nothing will be beyond our grasp. We just need a heading. Where did they hide it…?”

”We can’t use Lux,” Drake rolled his eyes, putting his hands behind his head before he blew out air. ”The boogeyman will get us.” He chuckled.

Aislin sighed, “Right, right. Then we really are doing this traditionally.” She smirked. “I hope someone here knows how to pick a lock.”

”I do, and I’m certain Kenshiro does. Earlier, the windows were all open and no one was inside, I did not see a single staircase. Most, if everything in there, is on the ground.”

Compared to what Jack was describing, there wasn’t a single open window now. Curtains were drawn, and it seemed to be effectively pitch black from their view. There weren’t even crickets chirping. It felt abandoned.

”There is a courtyard behind the main building, which I believe is connected to a storage room. I’ve avoided going too close so far.”

”Well? No time like the present, Jack.” Ken thrust his hand forward, marking a path in his mind as he made way for the edge of the main building.
Still, it was empty; the eerie feeling of loneliness forcing the word “liminal” toward the fore of his mind. Even though there wasn’t anyone around, there was a certain compulsion to escape potential sightlines, slipping through topiaries and smaller bushes until he came to where he presumed the storage area Jack spoke of was.

It was a bit more difficult to pick a traditional mechanical lock than it was to just crush the internals. But light-to-no Lux meant just that; ergo, Ken found himself with fingers splayed over and under the bolt, rake and pinning away until he started to feel tumblers popping into place. Looking back, he cleared his throat.
”Gather up! It’s open!” he half-whispered to the crew.

The door opened with no effort. Security clearly wasn’t a big concern. Jack made his way over the building, landing on the ground with the grace of a cat next to Kenshiro, without a sound. Beyond the door was a dark hallway, with a tiled floor and walls painted gray. Walking down this hall, the group saw several doors, and occasionally, they saw speakers embedded into the walls. They seemed to be made of copper, and it was quiet enough that nothing could be heard through them.

Most of the doors were nondescript, made of solid wood and closed shut. But just as they reached the end of the hallway and turned left, there was a set of larger, metal doors just barely visible in the dark. The entrance was built like the doors to a bank vault, with a larger set of locks that were clearly more complex than the doors into the Calderson Estate.

”Can you breach this? We may have just found what we’re looking for,” Jack whispered, looking out for trouble behind them.

Aislin's eyes glanced from the door to Ken, pursed faith crossing her face. They just needed one more break, then they'd be out and marked as successful heroes.

Ken simply stared at the doors in awe.
”Well fuck if I know; do you think our human plasma cutter can put enough energy out without someone finding us?” he asked, head turning to Drake.

”I don’t even think I can pull that off!” Drake laughed, crossing his arms, then rubbed his chin. ”If Linqian’s ass was here we could…” He then turned towards Kenshiro.

”... Wait, do you think Doomsday can knock the door down?” He asked. ”It’s not going to be quiet, though.”

”I could simply cut through it. But it would be slower,” Jack offered.

”Whatever works, let’s get it done!” Drake said.

Jack held his hand out, and cast Reaper’s Blade. His scythe appeared, and a few quick swipes slashed through the door with little more than a scrape to be heard. The removed section of the huge door tilted forward and was caught by the darkness.

As the group moved through the makeshift entrance, they were met by a large storage area arranged like a museum. Display cases dotted the walls, lit up by small lamps that showed their contents. There were paintings on walls that depicted great moments in history, some mundane and others not. It was the type of room someone wanted people to walk through, to flaunt their wealth. And yet it was barred by such a thick door.

Daggers encrusted with jewels that whispered to the onlooker, a strange box that ticked like a bomb, a sledgehammer made from black iron, an entire set of talismans representing each color of the rainbow; There were many things to be found in this showroom. But one stood out the most.

A long spine of tarnished metal, resting in a wide display. Resting next to it were burnt pages along with an old, old notebook. There were words in a language Jack did not recognize, and diagrams depicting human anatomy. The metal reflected the gentle light and showed its age.

The Brass Needle.

Aislin was on the display in a heart beat, gazing in awe at the needle of all needles. She glanced at the rest of the group, her enthusiasm evident in her smirk. Before her eyes waried to the busted door.

“We'll want to be quick. You don't think it's boobytrapped?” She whispered.

Having made his way in behind them, Ken slipped the knapsack off his back and pulled his sword from its sheath.
”Fuck if it is, we’ve gotta go fast! Get the fuckin’ boxes open and fill this bag up! I’ll get our door out ready!”
It had been, he figured, long enough between uses of the Paths that they’d be able to escape the way they came. He took a stance and began to channel.
”Move!”

”It is rude to walk in uninvited.”

The silence was cut through by a voice dressed in static, crisp and all around them. They were alone in the room, but a metallic speaker on the ceiling gave away the most likely source. A male voice, dour and apathetic in tone, almost sleepy.

Radio static filled the air. ”Still around, I see.”

Drake looked at the speaker, then back to Aislin, then quickly looked at Jack. ”... Do you think anything else here is valuable?!” He pointed at the other stuff in the room. ”Man, I wish I learned telekinesis from Victoria now!”

”Take as much as we can… Quickly,” Jack hurried over to the strange cube and sliced the case open with his shadow hand, grabbing it.

”I wouldn’t bother,” the strange voice said. ”People like you aren’t usually long for this world, anyway. They’re outside, so I won’t bother dealing with you myself. Tell me something, what part of the world did you Adepts come from? You don’t sound Canadian, and you’re definitely not from Boston...”

The lights flickered, threatening to plunge the room into darkness.

”You’d better leave while you can, ladies and gentlemen.”

Ken didn’t break his stance, rather putting far more effort into channeling the spell that would conjure the door to the Pathways. It did leave him there, alone and almost defenseless, in the middle of a room staring at an eldritch being.
”I a-am… Trying to leave! So just let us g-go! Don’t make it harder on yours-self!” he grunted, arcs of Purple Lux beginning to crackle around him.

The voice in the static just sighed. ”I’m too old and too stuck in the airwaves to be the one stopping you, young man. It’s not me you should be worried about…”

A creaking noise rang out from down the hallway. Like someone ripping an old door open, before the sound of feet against a wet floor could be heard.

”It’s them.”

Something started dripping from the ceiling. A black ooze, thin like water, dark as ink. It smelled like rotten meat, and pooled in the center of the showroom.

”LIGHT!!!”

In place of the stranger's voice was a shriek, too feverish to sound human. And that was when it rounded the corner… A gaunt, purple-skinned humanoid with a pair of jaws in its throat. It was hunched over as it clambered through the hole that Jack had cut in, and snarled at them with a face twisted into a smile.

A Light-Eater.

”Ken… Get us back to Shimmer. NOW!” Jack shouted, raising a scythe.

Ken’s face dropped in fear. Confusion.
”H-elp… Help me! Purple! C-an’t do enough w-without… Without Tenn-”
His face was was bright red, and he looked like he was about to explode as he tried to push his energy as hard as possible. Cracking, he began to shout with the effort.

There was laughter in every corner of the room, snide and mocking.

Drake started laughing, his right hand crackled with electricity. ”You think I’m supposed to be scared of this thing?!” He flipped off the Light-Eater with his electric hand. ”Suck my dick!”

Drake shot a bolt of lightning at the light eater.

It didn’t even try to dodge. Rather, it simply doubled over and fell through the ground. The floor fell away in a yawning pit around it.

”They absorb Lux, Drake!” Jack shouted. ”You’ll only make them st-”

Another walked through the hole in the door. A tall figure dressed in blues and blacks, wearing a crown of brambles. Its face was a vague approximation of a skull, and it simply tilted its head at Drake.

And it started walking forward.

Meanwhile, more holes caused by the purple Light-Eater appeared in the walls as it started peering through, snarling and grinning ear to ear at all of them.

_{”Drake… Help me.”}

”Fuck!”

Aislin's voice was sharp, barely containing the fear as she gazed at the monsters of this dimension. Their way out wasn't secured. The man on the speaker was right. He didn't need to come finish them off in person, they would do that for him.

Zip.

Well. Not if she could help it.

Out from her unzipped bag, she pulled out a tec-9, and gripped it in both hands, leveling it at the closest light eater.

And opened fire, bullets ricocheting, flashes of the muzzle lighting the gallery in a staccato rhythm.

”I got it to fuck off, didn’t I?!” Drake shouted as he looked at Aislin and smiled. His left hand began cackling with electricity as he reached behind him and pulled out his Glock with the other. He pointed the pistol at the Purple Light Eater and shouted, ”I’ll help you alright!” Drake said before he unloaded onto the spooky demon.

As Drake’s bullets hit the purple Light Eater, they simply vanished. There were no bullet holes, the bullets were simply swallowed up and made nonexistent. It laughed at him, mocking in the way someone clinically insane would laugh.

”It has the purple! I want it! I WANT IT!” It shrieked, leaping out of the chasm in the wall to claw at Drake.

_{”Please… We’ll be late for the wedding…”}

Meanwhile, the tall and thorny Light-Eater simply strolled forward towards Jack, who swung his weapon at it. The creature didn’t even try to move out of the way, and the scythe cut a thick gash across its chest… And then Jack’s own chest exploded with warmth as blood seeped out. He stumbled back, and his foot slipped on the black puddle that was slowly growing. He fell, and eyes splashed out.

Ken wasn’t able to focus… There was too much at stake, and all of the anticipation was in the wrong place. He couldn’t force the spell to bring out the portal, so as the others distracted the Light Eaters, he was doing a little preparation. It was going to hurt, but he had a sneaking suspicion it may be just what they needed…
Materials slipped from his vest one by one.
”I’m sorry-” he began to mumble, urgently rushing to pull the contracts from his bag. ”-it isn’t fair that you’re coming just to-”
Screams and pain all around. Something needed doing. It was the only way.
”-ah fuck it… You won’t make it out of the summon.”

The contract sticks for a dozen sets of Cane Toad Guards were set out in front of him. Thirty-Six Cane Guards: Enough to practically sap his Gold Lux reserves for the next week. Enough to summon an irresponsible kind of Fiend… Creatures he knew to be made purely of Lux…
His hands flicked, and he called the summon forth: Their contract sticks glowed, shimmering like the sunlight.

Then what Ken expected to happen, happened.

Each stick caught aflame, burning with blackness. For a moment, he could feel the eyes and mouths of every Light Eater turn simultaneously to his full outburst. But he started to laugh.

”Five…”

The black sludge Jack has fallen into grew hands and grappled him, as the eyes screwed around in non-existent sockets. Teeth that were all-too human grinned.

The gunk seeped into his shirt, and the open wound began to burn. White hot like acid. It was a sobering kind of pain that made someone all too aware of the fact they could be dead in a few seconds. So his shadow hand stretched out and shattered a display case holding a hammer, and he reeled it back to flatten the eyes.

The purple Light-Eater leapt from a hole in the wall and pounced at Kenshiro.

If Drake listened closely, he could hear the sound of a dead woman weeping quietly.

A firm hand fell on Aislin’s shoulder. When she turned around, she saw a tall figure wearing a grinning mask etched with kanji writing. It didn’t attack her, but simply tilted its head and spoke to her in a voice that dripped with arrogance.

”Lower that gun,” it ordered.

A sharp gasp. Aislin's eyes took in the figure, feeling a dark hand clench around her heart. Before her eyes beheld Jack. Ken. Drake.

Fuck.

As commanded, the gun fell from her grasp. A distraction. Before her bag she'd labeled as her bag burst open, and rolls upon rolls of piano wire burst forth. Each wire became animated, snaking up the limbs of the figure with the grinning mask, as well as each Light Eater in the room with them. There was enough strength in the wires to tourniquet limbs, and squeeze them off into painful separation. It wasn't just one or two wires. No, she dedicated ten, twenty, thirty wires to each monsters, working together to strangle and incapacitate them.

She wasn't sure how human these monsters were, but surely they couldn't outmaneuver this.

Drake’s triumphant laughter faltered, the crackling energy in his hand dimming as the words echoed in the chaos. ”No… No way…” Drake lowered his pistol, and stumbled backwards.

”... Jade? Is that you?! Talk to me!”

All of the Light-Eaters in the room at the moment were snatched up by the piano wire except for one: the yellow Light-Eater made of black sludge. The purple one was shot out of the air, and as the wire snaked up the arms of the blue Light Eater, the same feeling of being trapped fell on Aislin. Though no wires bound her, she found herself equally stuck in place, unable to move.

_{”Drake! I’m scared!”} The voice of Jade West was a pitiful sob, sounding so distant yet so close.

The gold Light-Eater simply chuckled. It was pleased that Aislin obeyed so readily. ”Release me. Don’t resist.” The weight of its words were like an anvil slowly dragging her down, daring her to refuse.

Aislin spluttered, completely immobilized. She tried to fight against it, but the hold was rock-solid, whatever it was. Before she had a terrible thought. If whatever they did to these monsters was reflected back, what happened if she tightened the piano strings enough to sever limbs…?

She didn't want to think about it. Instead, she glared at the gold Light Eater. “Go to hell, man!”

She couldn't look back, but cried out anyway. “Ken, we could really use a summoning!” Something that could dish out against these reflective monsters, and sacrifice themselves against the backlash.

She could hear Drake call out for Jade. There was… no way Jade was here. “Drake, it's a trick! Get ahold of yourself!” She shrieked out, desperately fighting against her constraints, without success.

”Shit, you’re right!” Drake shouted, before he unleashed lightning and gunfire on these bastards.

Meanwhile, Aislin tightened the piano strings, not about to let anyone Light Eater in her grasp move. “We’ll stand here till the end of time, you bastards…”

Ken couldn't finish his countdown. He was exhausted, and now in agony thanks to his little maneuver. Besides, nobody would be able to hear him… Having attracted the basal and predatory Light Eater, he could only put up a strong bubble and wait for the real pain to come.
The pain of ushering Death unto the world.

The cursemark pulsed like fire on his flesh, like the day he'd been exposed to it. He could feel the flesh around it drying and cracking, splitting and leaving blood to pour from the fresh wound down his back. It easily lifted up, the liquid seeping through the fibers of his clothing and up into the air of the oddly pressured protective bubble. For a few moments, Ken traded precious Purple Lux into the assailing beast, preparing for a moment when there was peace.

He maintained the stance to begin channeling a door into the Hidden Paths. He could only wait for Hell: And it came on horseback…

The foghorn sound heralding a Fiend Majoris Titanicus was something like the unleashed screams of the Stygian Snake. Louder than comprehension, it was like being stuffed inside of a foghorn while it's going off.
In the skies above them, an enormous, shimmering prismatic portal split open, illuminating the entire city in a daylight that lasted for several moments.

From it, nothing notable was produced. Nothing perceivable anyway… Not from such a distance. Then it was gone, that massive portal and its rainbow of lights, its foghorn cadence faded into nothing. The pure Lux of that portal most likely would've drawn the attention of the Light Eaters, stopping most of the action in a moment of redirection.

What came next was the surprise.

Smoke began to curl up from the wall and ceiling above them, at first a concentrated radius which expanded rapidly into a massive white-hot pustule that inflated to ten times its size in an instant. It was the melting reality, the materials used being turned into a liquid slurry of constituent parts.
It ruptured, spilling hot plasma and raining it down upon those present.

And then it was daytime again. A massive beam of pure Lux about the size and thickness of a tree trunk, was bisecting the mansion… And now it was slowly carving a path toward Ken.
He could only hope the Light Eaters would go for the bigger prize, distract the fiend long enough that they could reposition and get the fuck out of dodge.

Every single Light-Eater in the room stopped dead, Aislin didn’t even get the judgment of the gold one’s Pitch. They all collectively turned to the source of that beam, looking upwards.

Jack lunged for Kenshiro, trying to tackle him out of the beam.

The Light-Eaters began to twitch and buckle against the piano wire Aislin had so cleverly bound them in. The purple one simply dissolved it into nothingness, and flung itself through the ceiling in a fit of famished insanity.

Another roar different from the Fiend’s shook the building, and through the holes in the ceiling, the group could see yet another Light-Eater hurling itself into the sky. It was a hulking brute with a mouth for a face, and it was determined to devour that creature of Lux.

The others were enraptured by the smell of so much Lux, and were trying to leave now. They hadn’t seen that much power in ages.

”We are getting out of here, now.” Jack picked up on what Kenshiro had tried to do, and kicked open a doorway to the Eleventh Path. He hoisted Kenshiro up to his feet and reeled his shadow arm out to throw artifacts through the door.

”Everyone in!”

Drake quickly ran over and scoped Aislin up, before he launched towards the doorway, leaving behind a trail of lightning.

For a moment, he stared up at the sky. At that beam… He swore he could see her face on the Fiend… In the beam.
But Jack’s arm grabbed him from the throes of oblivion, and he was just about through the portal.
”Ken-shi-ro…”
He found himself sore on the floor of the entryway to the Eleventh Path, staring up at the ceiling with tears streaming from his eyes.
”Han-na?”
He shot up to see if he could get another glimpse, but the door was closed and gone. It was all gone… Only his friends remained as he violently spun his head around.

Finding it calm, he put his hands over his face and fell back.
”What the fuck was that…? They’re like fucking locusts…”

The door slammed shut behind Jack, once everyone had gotten inside. Jack stumbled and leaned against the table of the meeting room, with the hammer still in his hand. Blood was seeping out of his shirt.

”They’re everywhere in Gloom. They killed all the Adepts lifetimes ago, after all,” He wheezed, almost laughing now that they were safe. ”Scarcely a hundred Adepts at most survive in that world, and we lived to tell about them.”

The moment the door shut, Aislin unfroze, hyperventilating as she twitched and grasped the air in Drake's arms. The horror of being a prisoner like that… It wasn't something easily shaken off.

She looked up at her rescuer. “Thanks, Drake… You can put me down now.”

Drake was flustered, Ken was crying… Jack was bleeding.

Immediately, Aislin pulled out some gauze and disinfectant, trying her best to maintain her composure. “...D-damn the Light Eaters. Take off your shirt, Jack. I need to see how bad it is.”

Jack tossed his coat to the side and then the shirt that was now ruined. The cut wasn’t that, bad, actually. Longer than it was deep, smeared in blood but not particularly fatal. ”I’ll live.”

Aislin, however, wasn't dissuaded, and proceeded to take a bit of cotton, douse it in disinfectant, and began wiping away at the wound on Jack's chest.

Hearing the others being safe and alive let Ken take a deeper breath before his whole being seemed to rattle in place. Breaths hitched as he unintentionally released small weeping noises from his throat. His curse mark was still throbbing, telling him that whatever fiend he'd summoned as a distraction was still alive.

It took quite a few minutes to disappear…
”Next time we fight some Multiversal threat… I'm dragging it into that God forsaken realm.” he said weakly, finally turning and pushing up on his hands.
”I'll… Get Ma Kiki. She'll be able to close the wound fully.”

Aislin looked up from her work. “It's shallow, but uh, yeah, probably for the best.” Most of the blood had been wiped away, and the wound was only slowly seeping now.

Drake did a quick stretch.

”Shit, that was fun,” Drake laughed.

”... Let’s do it again.”

Jack looked over at Drake, and gave him the most shit-eating grin imaginable.

”We will.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

The Indomitable Human Spirit

Jasper put his car into park in the parking lot to one of the numerous parks that dotted the city. His car had certainly seen so many more miles since he came back to the coven, but that’s why he bought the nicest car on the market with the most safety features, best longevity, and spacious design. Jasper looked over to the passenger seat and looked at Stormy and chucked.

“I can’t thank you enough for this. I haven’t learned a new spell in so long that wasn’t painting based. This will be fun.” Jasper smirked as he turned off the car.

Stormy opened the door and stepped out. ”I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask sooner. It’s good to learn new spells every now and then. Let’s find somewhere quiet, this might take a while.”

“For sure” Jasper said as he stepped out of the car and went to the trunk. He grabbed a canvas, paint, and his trusty channeler. “Just in case,” Jasper quipped, “I have been meaning to. Today just felt like the best day to finally get around to it, you know? Lots of stuff happened since I joined up,” Jasper quipped back as he closed the trunk. “Lead the way!”

Stormy walked off into a distant corner of the park. Thankfully, Jasper picked one of the bigger parks, one with plenty of trees and rolling
hills of grass to conceal them. Today was a nice day, the weather was good and wouldn’t ruin anything Jasper painted.

”This is a good place.” Stormy stopped and turned, pulling a small book from his jacket. It was old, leather backed and had Stormy’s name on it.

”Before we begin, I need to make something clear,” he said, Folding his arms and holding the book up. ”What you’re going to learn is something that demands more from you than you will think you have. You and I are yellow Adepts, and our Lux is built on the concept of fear.” By his tone, it was clear Stormy took this seriously.

“The fear of the unknown. That describes my dating life,” Jasper paused as he put his stuff down, “I faced my fears getting sober, I can face whatever fear comes my way today.”

”You will,” he stressed. ”My spells are demanding. Fear is foundational to yellow Lux. And it is foundational to the spells I’m going to teach you. You’ll have to embrace it, not just look it in the face. You and I have things we could lose. It could be our lives, it could be the lives of someone else, but there’s always going to be something that you can’t just ignore. If you don’t lean into that and dive headfirst into it, this won’t work for you.”

He helped up his other hand, and Stormy’s channeler- his watch- lit up with the usual malachite green glow of his magic. ”This will test your soul, so be prepared for that. Alright?”

Jasper listened to what Stormy said and sighed. He did have a lot of stuff to fear. He was afraid that he might eventually relapse and what that would do to his sister, his friends, Luca. He was afraid of that skeleton that haunted his moments of joy. He was afraid that, at the end of the day, he was going to lose the one who brought him so much joy right before either were able to truly experience it. And he was afraid that no matter what he did, all of this would be for nothing if father wolf had his ways. Jasper knew he had a lot to fear, but he also knew that he had the motivation to push past it. He was strong, creative, and was willing to throw hands at a supernatural demon who had two times as many arms as him, he was courageous enough to stand up for what he felt was right, and that he was filled with enough love to bring a bright light into the darkest of places. He was ready. At least he thought he was.

”I have a lot of strength to counteract my fears, I’m ready and I’m prepared.”

Stormy nodded, smiling contently. ”Then let’s start with something simple, the first spell I ever made: Guardian Barrier.”

He put a hand out in front of him, and a circular shield of green energy appeared between himself and Jasper. ”Imagine your Lux is a physical substance, like wet paint. The way I apply that is by drawing it out and shaping it into a shield. This is what my other shield spells build off of, so this one is the most critical for you to learn.”

“Okay,” Jasper said as he held his hand out in front of him. His form was a poor impression of Stormy’s, and his posture was loose and relaxed. He tried to pull the magic out and shape into a shield but only summoned some small shield like sparkles. “R.I.P,” Jasper sighed before he chuckled, “You make it look so easy,” Jasper chuckled.

”Try doing it your way,” Stormy suggested. ”I used to have to draw these shields out in lines using my channeler. I learned how to do it this way, it’s like muscle memory to me at this point. You’re an artist, so try painting one and infusing your Lux into it. The same way you would use your other spells.”

“You know I’ve been able to do shields for a minute now,” Jasper said as he painted a quick shield, infusing his desire to protect into it. After a few more seconds worth of details were added before he used his brush from the page. The shield was a kite shield and it had an almost cell like shading style to the design. It had numerous yellow orbs painted on that glowed. “What I’m hearing is,” Jasper said as he placed a hand on his chin, “that you have learned how to go from the page to just being able to summon your shields. If I can figure that out I might be able to go from the canvas to just pull my constructs and shields like you do,” Jasper asked.

”Exactly. But something you’ll have to remember is that shields are quietly literally the core of my spells. All Adepts have an affinity for one thing or the other, this is mine. So the way I cast them is naturally going to be different from someone who paints his creations into the world.” Stormy walked closer, and pondered the kite shield.

”Good. Now, move around with it. If you’re learning based on how I do this, you might find yourself struggling to stay mobile once you start casting these in bigger numbers.”

Jasper moved around with the shield but noticed it was impractical to do so. It was cumbersome. While he could paint in the intent for it to be lighter the thought escaped him in that moment. Somehow, he knew it wouldn’t matter. Magic was full of weird little quirks. “It’s not super easy. After all my affinity is,” Jasper said as he drew a simple stick figure with his paintbrush and pulled it from the page, “constructs that fight,” Jasper said as he watched the stick figure throw a few punches.

”Why not give your kite shield to one of them? You can let them be bodyguards,” Stormy noted. ”At least for a while. The shields I make are heavy, and there’s a… Metaphorical reason behind that. It’s a burden to protect people, and you have to shoulder it. It doesn’t get easier, but you get stronger.”

Jasper began painting something else. “Back in the day I came up with three spells,” Jasper said as he went to work on the painting, “I was a kid who played too many video games so I focused my spells on things that I saw there.” These paintings were his bread and butter. “The Knight, The Ranger,” Jasper paused as he pulled the construct from the page, the resulting thud announced the arrival of the third form he created, “The Paladin,” Jasper said as his kite shield dissolved into paint. “Back then, and even now, I mostly use the Ranger, then Knight, but the Paladin is always ready to shine,” Jasper said as he looked up to the Paladin who was a hair taller than him. The Paladin was completely encased in armor, from head to toe, and the armor was embedded with red and yellow jewels. It was armed with a large hammer with glowing red lines along the side. Stormy would see the same kite shield that he summoned before in the Paladin's arm. “One of these held off Scott for a few seconds but,” Jasper chuckled, “he’s a little slow,” Jasper laughed a little harder.

Stormy studied the Paladin for a moment. The heavy weight was a problem. ”His armor… Try replacing it with the specific Lux your new shield is made from. Trust me for a moment.”

Jasper did as was commanded and waved the Paladin goodbye as he pulled his life force back from the monster. He returned to the canvas and pushed to shave some of the bulk off the Paladin. He molded the armor off the agile Knight, but used the specific he used with the shield. He added more of the defensive spell and he grinned. He pulled the new Paladin from the pages and it landed with less of a thud. It still had the same shield and hammer as before, but the armor profile was much more streamlined and less bulky. It definitely was durable as a whole, but it could actually move closer to the knight now.

”Alright, that’s a start. Now, you’ll want to decide what your shields do. My Guardian Barriers just block physical harm, and there’s nothing wrong with something that simple,” Stormy said. ”But there are many different kinds of danger, and so you’d be smart to have many different kinds of protection.”

To demonstrate, Stormy dispelled the round shield and summoned a bright, glowing tower shield into his grasp.

”Anything you can throw at me, this Stoic Shell will reflect.”

Jasper looked at the new Paladin, and smirked. With a simple look the Paladin smashed the hammer on his own shield producing a noticeable explosion.

“Shall we test that,” Jasper paused as he looked to Stormy.

”Good idea.” Stormy raised his own shield up. ”Swing as hard as you can, Paladin. This will be a good comparison.”

The newly forged Paladin took off in a run. It was fast now. While not as fast as the knight it was at least as fast as a quick high school sprinter. As it drew closer it pulled its weapon back and swung it at the shield. As it collided with Stormy a forceful explosion was brought forth at the point of impact. The explosion itself was repelled causing the explosive force to be redirected back into the hammer, and the arm of the paladin. The heat from the explosion made their arm brittle, and the explosive force shattered it and the hammer.

“That’s why I prefer the knight and the ranger,” Jasper paused as he walked over to the paladin and patted it on it’s back. “Heat makes it brittle, water washes it away. Same for all my constructs but my knight has the speed, my ranger has the range. Though with his faster speed I could probably go back to a normal hammer,” Jasper said as he rubbed his chin.

Stormy watched it bounce back and tear itself to shreds, and just nodded. ”That doesn’t surprise me. But don’t feel discouraged. When I first started using my shield spells, they were also brittle. If you’re using the same methods as me, you’ll get better at making the Lux stay solid,” he explained. ”Eventually, it’ll feel like trying to get through a brick wall. From there, you can branch off. Remember what I said, lean into fear, and don’t let up. Be unshakeable.”

Lean into fear?

There were a few fears that Jasper had run from more than all

Jasper sighed at the thought. He was always afraid of bringing out the raw, unfiltered truth that he buried deep. The truth was he was deeply scared by the death of friends. He watched his friend Doug get pulled limb from limb by the snakes minions, James was carried off and killed just out of reach, and Hugh sacrificed himself to save Jasper when he was too slow to get a construct out. Dead friends issues. Lila knew him far too well. He was afraid that history was blind to repeat itself. That Lila will fall to the Maiden and become just another monster to be put down, that Evelynn will drink herself to death before his eyes all the while he could’ve helped by sharing his own story for the first time, and that Luca is destined to die without his help. He was much more afraid of these possibilities than he would ever let anyone know. This fear was never a source of his power, it was always the bane of it. He needed to show strength, he needed to be strong, and he needed to be the one that protected others. All he could feel was the cold embrace of loss weigh over him and the images of all his dead friends, present and past, flash by him in a whirl. This was always going to be his life. Moments of happiness surrounded by an endless abyss of suffering.

Jasper grabbed those emotions, that fear, and that desperation with his brush and painted them into his next painting. Normally he painted his intent to the construct but this time, this time he tried his fears. A moment later the construct was pulled from the page but this time both the armor and shield was missing the jewels and crystals that was the spell within the spells. Instead, the armor and the hammer both had a soft yellow glow. The paladin also carried itself with a different posture. Before it was regal, stood tall, and was the shining example of virtue in the desolate wastes of his life. This one was practically rabid. It’s shoulders were slouched, it carried the hammer and shield with a loose grip. It’s eyes remained, or at least the yellow glow of eyes, rested entirely on Jasper. It had a rapid breathing-like motion even though it did not need to breathe.

“That’s new,” Jasper said with a raised eyebrow, “I painted it like the last but it’s warped, changed, and different.”

Stormy looked it up and down, thinking about this in a way that he looked at his spells with. ”This is a good step in the right direction, Jasper.” He handed his friend the book he had been holding. It was full of all the spells, ponderings and discoveries of a man who made this very form of magic his entire brand. ”Human beings tend to treat fear like the opposite of strength. It’s so easy to think that you’re strong because you’re above fear. But the truth is that none of us are. We wouldn’t be human if that was the case. Looking at your new Paladin, here, I think you just found a way to accept that. We protect people because of fear, and not despite it. Do you know why?”

“Why?”. Jasper looked through the book and was astounded by the spells he saw. Jasper knew when to lead, and when to be a student.

”Because, Jasper, we are human beings. We protect people and ourselves because we are vulnerable, and because we’re afraid of what will happen if we fail. Your shields break, someone dies. If we were unkillable, we wouldn’t be scared of anything. But none of us are completely invincible.”

This was something Stormy knew in his bones, because it was the foundation of his very soul. ”We defend others because we fear what will happen if we don’t. We become unbreakable walls that hold up the world because we fear what happens if we break.”

“I see. Then this fear, this emotion, we use it to ensure that the ones we care about are safe,” Jasper said as he walked over to the paladin and placed a hand on the paladin's chest. He accepted the fear that created this one and a yellow wave washed over the body of the paladin and the manic appearance soon gave way to one that was more polished, more regal, but still looked more human than the original one. “I think this will make my constructs more ferocious in a fight,” Jasper smirked, “my intent to protect is strong, but my fear of loss is even stronger.”

”Then your intent to protect isn’t strong enough, yet. Lean in, don’t let it lean into you.” Stormy knocked his hand against the construct’s armor, testing how sturdy it felt.

“Then I have work to do,” Jasper flashed a devilish grin. It’s been a while since he learned something new about his magic. “I’m ready to get better with that then.”

He nodded, feeling proud. ”Don’t rush into this. Think of it like building up physical strength. Once you have this mastered, I’ll teach you the art of Abjuration.”

”Okay teach,” Jasper said to the professor as he pulled the life force out of the paladin causing it to melt, “how should I start?”

---

Stormy swooped back in, stepping around to Jasper’s side and throwing yet another punch. His skin glowed with the scaly pattern of the Dragonhide aura as he hammered away at Jasper to test his ability to use the shield.

”Let up, and you let someone die,” he repeated.

“Try and get to me,” Jasper said as he used his free hand to paint a fresh shield on the inside of the shield. The current one was cracking from the repeated assaults, and he needed a new one and Stormy was tenacious and kept him away from the canvas, on purpose no doubt, and he needed to improvise to ensure that he stayed in the fight. As a punch was about to land he summoned the new shield, the old one melting away causing Stormy’s punch to hit nothing but air. The new shield's handle was caught by Jasper’s hand, and Jasper spun in place with an even stronger shield than before and he was aiming the face of it Stormy’s way.

Stormy clapped his hands together around the rim of the shield, using his arms to lever the shield back the other way and swing at Jasper with a round shield of his own.

Jasper let go of the handle of the shield and ducked under the attack, letting Stormy fall forward as a result, and Jasper used the momentum of the dodge to shoot forward like a football player into the stomach of Stormy with his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Stormy was trained to fight with his bare hands, so the fist that hit him in the stomach didn’t make him flinch, nor did he fall over. In fact, thanks to Dragonhide, it was like hitting a brick wall.

”Bad decision, Jasper,” Stormy remarked, before throwing an elbow at Jasper.

Jasper took the hit and he was not as strong as Stormy. He collapsed as the hit stung like a bitch and Jasper had never felt a hit like that in a decade. “Ooof, good hit,” Jasper gasped as he rolled over to his back and breathed a few hard breaths.

With that, Stormy stopped and bent down to help him up. ”Breathe slowly, you’ll be fine. You can walk that off.”

“Thanks,” Jasper said as he took the help and breathed slowly as he rose to his feet. “I’m getting better at fighting. That last shield was my strongest yet,” Jasper stretched his back out as finished.

”The more you chip away at it, the stronger you’ll get.” Stormy gently clapped him over the shoulder. ”And you learned this faster than I did ten years ago. One day, and you’ve got yourself a solid shield.”

“I have practiced a lot with the spells I developed to be faster, stronger, and quicker with them over the years. That’s helped with learning this new stuff,” Jasper said as he smiled.

”Back then, shields were all I had, so that doesn’t surprise me. Keep practicing with that, and you’ll be able to make variations on it. Eventually you’ll work your way up to this-”

Stormy put both hands out and into the air, and the two of them were suddenly surrounded by a vibrant green dome of energy. The Iron Fortress.

”Out of every spell I’ve ever attempted, this one is the peak. This is my magnum opus, I could set this down in front of a runaway train and it’ll bounce right off.”

“This is mine,” Jasper paused as he went to his canvas and painted for a minute or two. He pulled out the rifle from the painting and posted it to Stormy. “Not quite the same thing but it is powerful,” Jasper paused as a smirk crossed his face. Powerful enough to kill that skeleton.

”Hmm. I was never inclined to that kind of magic. But you’re more flexible than me, so it makes-” He had an idea. ”You could learn my Abjuration spells and use that for applying them.”

“To take out the monster at range,” Jasper gasped at the idea.

”Range is something I can’t do, I always have to be right there in someone’s face to use that kind of magic. But you? You could make bullets that sap the strength out of apparitions or silver bullets for aberrants. You’re onto something, here.”

“And I can do this,” Jasper paused as he pulled his life force back, causing the gun to melt. Jasper went back to the canvas and began painting again. A few minutes later he pulled out his Ranger, though this time the Ranger had two guns, one in each hand. The Ranger tossed one towards Stormy.

Stormy caught it, curiously. ”This is new for me, I’m not much of a ranged fighter.”

“Neither am I,” Jasper paused as he smirked, “but can you imagine Amara with a weapon like that, though?”

”Very true. But don’t be too quick to assume it’ll work that way. Sometimes, magic can surprise you with curveballs, like the fact that my shields slow me down.”

“Very true. I think I’ll need to learn your abjuration spells first, and then once I am able to use it freely,” to hold Luca’s hand, “I can begin work on incorporating it into my weapons.”

”That would be a good idea. But since you’re also using other kinds of Lux, yours won’t be as powerful. That’s something to keep in mind.”

“True,” Jasper stopped as the image of Luca’s hand holding his flooded his mind, causing Jasper to blush, “but I think versatility alone would make up for it.”

”It could be. But keep in mind that those spells wouldn’t be their best overnight. It could take weeks or months before they have an impact, and we’re fighting for our lives every other day. Don’t lean on them too hard too soon.”

“I won’t,” Jasper said as he walked over and grabbed the gun from Stormy. He tossed the gun to the ranger before he pulled his life force back.

“How do we start?”

Stormy let his Dragonhide aura run out, before speaking. ”Abjuration is a sort of logical progression of the shield spells you’ll learn. To use those, you embrace your fears and keep yourself on that edge to sustain them. But now, you need to learn how to not just embrace it, but to separate yourself from it.”

He took a few steps back, and stamped his foot into the ground. The grass began to glow, as green smoke trailed up into the air. ”Using the shields means you look death in the face and let him break against you. These spells, though? You’re not leaning into anything, you’re pushing away.”

“Pushing away. So I would use my own fear to fuel that once again? One specific to the power itself?

”In a way. The concept is the same, but you’re applying a different part of it. To make shields that last, you need to keep your foot on the gas, so to speak. Don’t let up, don’t shy away. If you do, it’s too little,” he explained. ”Abjuration auras are the opposite. You need to put your foot on the gas just long enough, and then detach yourself from the fear of what you want to protect against. If you can’t, it won’t happen in the first place.”

“I think I can do this. Let’s focus on the auras. I just got the most impressive idea for a new construct, and I think the aura is the key to it,” the key for a great date tonight’s Jasper admitted to given selfishly, “foot on the gas, detach from the fear. Where should I focus my magic?”

[color=00ff98]”Focus it on where you want to be when you’ve put space between yourself and danger. If I were covering someone while they healed the wounded,”]/color] he gestured to the ground. ”I wouldn’t want to move.”

Jasper focused it on his hand. At the same time he focused on his fear of loss. Losing the ones that were important to him, losing the chance to be with someone like Luca, and dying to some strange skeleton monster. He pushed down on the gas. His fear told him he wasn’t going to be strong enough to stop any of that, not strong enough to stop any more deaths. It all builded to a crescendo, tears forming in his eyes and he gritted his teeth. A second later he pushed past them, and he summoned an aura and it soon spread to his channeler.

“Which aura is this,” Jasper asked as he raised his paintbrush up.

”You tell me. I’m teaching you how to set up your own, instead of skipping right to teaching you one’s I’ve already made. I’ll do that once you have the hang of this. Walk before you fly.”

“I used my fear of losing more than before,” Jasper said as he looked over the aura, “I’m surrounded by adjoined and agent’s at home who struggle with their monsters. I am afraid of losing them, this doesn’t feel like an aura that can help with that. This one feels, I don’t know, like a way to do something else instead of pushing them down. This feels like a guide light for them to follow,” Jasper paused as he looked at the aura from all angles. “Maybe it’s something to grab their attention,” Jasper said with a gasp.

Interesting. Stormy pondered it for a second, wondering how this could be worked with. Jasper was an artist, art was meant to be noticed and in this case, felt.

”That could be useful… But I wonder if that counts as yellow Lux? What’s the thought process with that? Protection from isolation?”

“If something goes wrong I could get their attention on me,” Jasper said as he raised an eyebrow. “ This is based on an older fear, this comes from our fight with the snake. I think I was on the gas pedal too long.”

“I have an idea,” Jasper said as the tip of the paintbrush erupted in a yellow, red, and green fire. He walked over to the canvas and began painting. A few minutes later he pulled out the construct. It was like the knight, but the sword was shorter and it held a torch in the other. The torch had a vibrant green flame that had no effect on either Jasper or Stormy.

”Hm.. It makes the most sense to channel the magic through your constructs? That’s a lot more versatile than my version of these spells are. But what will you do if they’re taken out easier than you?” Stormy asked, curiously.

“Figure out how to do it myself,” Jasper said as he inspected the quality of his work, “Imagination was my strength, my calling, so this is how I think I can-,” Jasper paused as he looked at Stormy, “you can infuse objects with your aura? What about paint?

”You know what they say about magic? Infinite possibilities,” Stormy answered, sagely. ”I used to write out glyphs before I could cast my spells quickly, it’s not unheard of.”

“Can you show me,” Jasper asked as he grabbed a thing of his oil paint.

Stormy pointed to the smoking ground. ”You’re looking at the Phantombane spell I used on the Rot, right now. It wards off apparitions, weakens them and suppresses their connection to their hosts.”

Jasper took his paintbrush and painted the glyph on his forearm. “What do you channel, where does your fear come from for Phantombane,” Jasper asked.

”From the damage that an unchecked apparition can do. Ask Luca, ask most of 8th Street’s oldest members. Ask anyone who survived the Stygian Snake. Apparitions are some of the most unpredictable paranormals you’ll meet. And that’s not even getting into what they can leave behind.”

Jasper tapped into that same fear. He knew all too well that damage. Much like everyone in the coven Jasper saw first hand how much damage that snake could bring with its monsters alone. How they murdered his friends. And this reminded him of what he feared. If someone was killing Sycamore members, the snake had to be involved in some fashion. And if the snake was involved, there was a real chance it could be unleashed again. If it was unleashed again he could watch his beloved city fall into flames, his friends killed again, and more of that same trauma that lead to him being a drug addicted artist who was afraid of using his art to help tell the story of who he was. Of how Lucas’s rot terrified him, that the idea that the man he had come to admire, adore, and want to get to know on that romantic level could fall one day and rot everything around them. That Lila might accidentally curse him and turn him into a crow forever. Jasper drew this new fear into the magic and pulled that into his paintbrush and painted the sigil again. This time it began to glow.

“Is it the right aura,” Jasper asked Stormy.

Stormy nodded, pleased with his teaching and with Jasper’s progress. ”Now, here’s the important question. What does that have going for it? Every spell has its downsides, what can’t it do?”

“Last. All my paintings, all my magic, also draws on my own life force. The longer I leave it running the weaker I will get. The weaker I get the more it draws,” Jasper paused, “I can of course pull it back but I can still pass out if I go too hard.”

”One of mine does the same thing. Consecration. It’s not a constant pull, but every time I cast it, it takes a piece of my soul that won’t be replaced any faster than, say, a few hours. Your options for that, in my informed opinion, are to get better at tolerating the pull it has on you or find another source to draw from for powering it.”

“This brings me back Stormy,” Jasper said with a chuckle, the glyph on his hand began to bubble as the spell began to fade, “ learning new spells, trying new things. To protect, to do better, to hold Lu- ” Jasper shut up immediately

”Except now, we aren’t fighting a war. At least, not exactly,” Stormy added. It was nice, being able to make mistakes in relative peace. ”And we’ve grown since then, we can grow again now.” Out of curiosity, Stormy reached out and gently touched the fading glyph.

The glyph seemed to not budge. On closer inspection Stormy would see that the glyph itself has bonded to Jasper. “With my spells they either take too much damage, or I pull my life force back, they are durable otherwise.”

”Good. Having it tied to that symbol is risky, but it’s manageable. I always have to be there in the fray when I’m keeping an aura up. You might have the same problem here, but this could technically last forever. Mine just last 15 minutes.”

“I might be able to get it better, Jasper said as it kept bubbling, pieces of it began to flake off. “You know what this means right?”

”That I’m not the only one scaring off apparitions now?” He joked.

“No. You would make a fantastic professor, have you ever considered that line of work,” Jasper paused as a laugh escaped his lips, “now I have a few more hours until I need to get ready for dinner tonight. Can you help me make it stronger?”

Stormy chuckled. ”I can try, but the best way to do that will ultimately be time and practice. You’ll get better the more you use it. With the way I’ve taught you, I learned how to improve the power of my spells through muscle memory. Just keep doing it.”

“Okay. Well good thing I’ve been working on my muscles. Let’s keep practicing.”

Young Justice

Cora did as Rain ordered, and just held out. That was fine, it sounded like they were going to pull out of here anyway, so she drifted back and felt something latch onto her from behind. Cora would've done something about it, like drop and restart her flight, but the green sludge thing that she literally just warned everyone about fucking grabbed her. Next thing she knew, Cora was enveloped in it like she had fallen off a boat and into water. Her training taught her not to let this sort of thing get the drop on her, so Cora's first reaction was to zap whatever had grabbed her. But the flash didn't do anything, and being surprised like this just caused something in Cora's head to go on autopilot.

"Storm-" KHZZT! "Need help! I'm trapped, can't get- ##lp! Someone get m# out of################"

Whatever words anyone listening would have heard quickly devolved into a thick wave of static, due to the fact that Cora's earpiece exploded beneath her helmet. The green bubble she was trapped in became a miniature blue sun, blindingly bright and filled to the absolute max with her metahuman lightning. The sound of crackling spilled out through it, filling the air with a sound like the world's largest grease fryer. The last thing anyone could possibly hear from Cora before she went supernova was her suddenly going from perfectly relaxed in the heat of battle to absolute panic. She wasn't a heavy hitter like Talos or Rain, and she wasn't the kind of superhero that could easily get out of this sort of thing like Nymph or Zatara.

Anyone else would've been vaporized in there, but Cora didn't feel much of anything once the light show came to an end. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and there was smoke fuming around her once people could actually see her.

And she wasn't moving.

Avengers Academy: Junior Year 💥

---

Location: Outside > Framework
Skills: Homosexuality
Framework Fashion

---

---

What didn't happen? "Somebody in our classes went rogue, and tried to kill us all," Leah said, with all the gentleness of a hammer. "His plan failed, and he's lost. There's nothing he can do to protect himself now, unless he's got a bomb under the school." Leah wouldn't exactly put it past Ed to have a backup plan like that in case he failed. The little fucking bastard might have actually killed them, Leah apparently could have fuckingdied in there without saving anyone despite-

Her phone went off.

He pulled it from her pocket and looked down at a rather distressing text from Vicky. Of course he'd know that. Of course he'd have some way of getting to her. Why wouldn't he? Leah hammered away at her phone's keyboard quick enough that she could've shattered the glass if she typed any quicker.

Earthbender: You breat he one damn word of that to anyone other tha nme until we talk about it and i just MIGHT put you down. Nto your fault but don t f ucking say anything about it.

Her ribs were shifting back and forth in her chest, it felt like pins and needles everywhere. But Leah didn't have a chance to think about that before something else caught her attention... The sound of a glassy explosion in the distance of the building. The sound of rushing water. There was only one reason something like that could be happening so loudly, and Leah just stepped away from it because she held back.

"...APRIL!" She slid her phone into her pocket, turned around and beelined back towards the Framework. The convenient thing about having more muscle in one leg than most people had in their whole bodies was that Leah didn't need to be Quicksilver to move. She barrelled through the front door with her shoulder, and practically flew up the stairs as she followed the sounds of the disaster. The thick double doors were kicked in, and Leah saw the source of it.

April's powers were going nuts and destroyed the tanks. Looking around, the others were injured by it and the watery gunk just wasn't stopping. It was like a fucking cyclone, protecting her girlfriend from a threat that was dealt with. Leah used to have these problems a lot once. Every little thing she felt threatened the split the ground or rumble buildings, so she learned by force to beat the feelings down. She felt worried, but the problem had to be fixed before she could help April.

Maybe...

She started forward, and pulled the concrete floor up into barriers. Water crashed against rock and sprayed everywhere just long enough for Leah to slip inside and grab April by the hands, just before cracking under the force of the torrent. Glass and bits of rock whipped around her and tore through her clothes, but she endured it for April's sake.

"April! Listen to me!" She shouted over the noise, holding her girlfriend close. "Maybe we could have died in there, but we didn't! Zari saved us! We survived, we won! We're all still here, and we're not going anywhere!"

Leah didn't actually understand the fucked up little emotions people felt when fear and irrational thought overtook them, so all she could do was try and get through. So she put her arms all the way around April and refused to let go. She'd stay there in the middle of the storm no matter how long it took to ground the girl who meant so much to her. Even if the water swallowed them both up, Leah knew, deep down, that April would never willing hurt her.

"I'm here with you, okay?! Whatever it takes, you're not doing this alone!"