"Woah there Cecil, you're going a mile a minute there. Everyone's fine, you're fine... Mostly. We're in a place called Mutebo, your friends are off doing some work while I fix you up here. Considering everyone is alive I'd say yeah, you helped. Don't ask me what happened though because I'm just as confused as you are." Amuné's frantic explanation aside Norman hadn't a clue at all what had gone on or how Cecil had ended up in the state he'd been in. He'd ask the Machina himself but he was in an oddly panicked state. Which was yet another oddity about Cecil: he was panicking. Machina generally didn't have the capacity for genuine emotion like that, programmed responses to simulate emotion sure, but actual emotion? Unless Cecil was a combat Machina fashioned to show panic there was something odd here. Right now he had to calm down Cecil before he went crazy with fright and tried to run off.
"Look, Cecil, I really can't tell you what's happened but Amuné didn't mention anyone else being hurt so I'm guessing everyone's fine. And these people here are engineers who work in Mutebo, fixing up Machina like you." Or they fixed up Machina, saying they were anything like Cecil was an absolute fallacy. So just what precisely was that Demacite crystal for? Cecil had asked and yet Norman found himself unable to offer a concrete answer. There were suspicions though especially if it was aspected Luminous as he suspected. Was it right to make a hypothesis and assumption off of what little information he had?
The other engineers signaled that the metals were ready for casting and they could begin repairs on Cecil's outer shell. Signaling for them to pour it into the casing he'd modeled earlier he stood at Cecil's tarnished arm again and made certain the wires were securely in place. "Having a Demacite crystal inside of a Machina isn't unheard of, and its fairly common in many prototype combat Machina. The idea is that, like Demacite Weaponry, the magic can be used by the Machina as if they were casting magic themselves. That is what I'm assuming your crystal is for. There's something strange about it though..." The engineers had finished pouring the cast and had begun to cool it in a cauldron, and at Norman's direction they began to gather the materials for paint, one of them coming over to judge the color of his current "skin" against the materials they had. Waiting until they were alone again Norman lowered his tone, staring intently at the crystal inside Cecil's chest.
"Cecil, are you able to use any magic? Any at all? Have you ever tried?" If Cecil was incapable of using magic then that ruled out the Demacite serving as a conduit for magic. But then what else would it be for? Norman had seen plenty of prototypes and variations of Machina to be familiar with most any model but Cecil was something new entirely. A Luminous Demacite crystal was typically used as a means to heal people, or for a way to cleanse tainted water sources or as means to fend off beasts. But what could a Machina possibly use it for?
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"Yeah I was a bandit. You know, big scary bandits, they're going to rape your family and burn the village! Those scary bandits!" Taliya laughed before rolling her eyes, "Except I wasn't one of those types. I stole shit, sure, and I'd kill a person or two if they got in our way, but we weren't into the real bad stuff. We just did what we had to in order to get by and make a bit of gold on the side, that's all. Compared to some of the bastards out there... Hell, some of the guys in my old crew, I'm a fucking Saint." Was the world really so black and white with Amuné? Typical of a little kid she supposed, they only saw things one of two ways and there was no in between. There were awful guards who abused their power and were killers even and then there were bandits who only took what they needed to survive, and were even known to help from time to time. Just saying someone was a bandit didn't mean shit, that told you nothing about what a person was really like. Just like how everyone heard "Magi" nowadays and associated it with being a criminal.
Amuné's desire to help was admirable and it was good to see the kid finally recognize she had to do something to pull her own weight. There was nothing worse than a freeloader, and even worse still was someone who had to be saved constantly like some damsel in distress. If you couldn't carry your own part of the burden in some way then you were just dead weight, and it was useless people like that which got others killed. That being said what did a girl with powers like her hope to accomplish?
"Not in Mutebo there ain't, at least not as far as I know. Seers a mighty rare ability and most go into hiding. Don't want to turn into someone's bitch I guess," Taliya mused with a shrug, "I'm sure you could find a teacher but it won't be here kiddo. If you really want to help the best option is to grow up by tomorrow, learn to fight and start helping your friends. Then again I'm not even sure why a brat like you is traveling with them... Ah right, you wanted to see mommy and daddy again." Pinesgrove... Did that name ring any bells? None that she could think of, then again she was about two canteens in at this point and little was easy to recall right now. "Listen, look around here in Mutebo, ask around, find yourself a teacher. I'm not doing it for you and you shouldn't make your friends do it either," Taliya said, leaning forward and prodding a finger into Amuné's chest, "You want to make yourself useful? Fine, so go do it."
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"Ethan? Can you move? Can you still lure it?" Nymira had hoped in part that she could be bought enough time to come up with a plan to take out the Rökorm. Ethan was clearly in no state to be dashing about right now as he pointed out however, his arm was out of its socket and he labored to even breathe were he stood. Kensen and Gage had both since slain the final of the Vazra yet made no move to help, they were truly on their own. Six seconds was their window in between phasing which meant she would have to somehow strike in that brief window, yet how? What could she possibly do that would kill the beast where a direct hit hadn't before?
"Keep thinking, I'll keep it busy!" Ethan shouted, smiling as Nymira stared at him incredulously. "You'll come up with a plan right? Leave it to me, just be quick okay?" He was really going to regret this later but they needed some kind of plan and he hadn't the slightest clue what to do right now. Grabbing a rock from the ground he threw it at the Rökorm's head and waited nervously for it to come after him again, inhaling deeply before releasing the final reserves of magic and boosting his speed once again. Waiting for the creature to be nearly upon him he dashed aside when it tried to lunge at him and raced past it, dashing again when it turned and threw a hastily made blast his way, wincing as the howling wind struck his ears. He had just enough to perhaps go another minute like this before he was out of energy, then it would be completely up to Nymira.
They had to take advantage of the brief period where the Rökorm couldn't phase out. How would they do that though? If phased out to avoid any and all attacks and it could deflect any projectiles when it came back in. Wait... It could deflect projectiles! If Nymira had been able to stand on one foot then she'd kick herself for her idiocy and not seeing it sooner. Spells had in large been ineffective since the Rökorm could simply counter them with its own, but her dagger had nearly managed to pierce it every time. She could see where it traveled when when turned to mist and could try and get close enough to strike it, and pray to Ralthor it didn't just release a burst and kill her. It was incredibly risky but she had to try it, there was no way they could keep this going for much longer.
Retrieving her daggers from the ground nearby she watched keenly as Ethan darted to and fro, doing a superb job of keeping the Rökorm distracted from her. Raising her dagger and taking aim she waited until Ethan had just passed beyond it before throwing her weapon at its side and watching as it turned to mist, slithering away from both the weapon and Ethan.
Perfect. Eyes locked on the fleeing form Nymira dashed after it, ignoring the burning of her ankle and the dampness of the blood as she ran. She had to kill it now, if this failed then she had no other ideas and Ethan was about to collapse, they would be as good as finished. As she expected the Rökorm had reemerged from its ethereal form and quickly had its sights on her, but by then the Dimuran was already upon it. Leaping into the air and onto the Rökorm's side she grabbed a hold of one of its fins and flipped her dagger over before driving it into its flesh, struggling to remain on as the beast thrashed about. Pulling her blade back she cut open the creature's side just enough before she had to release the weapon and grab its side simply to hold on, her weapon falling away and clattering to the ground.
The air around her and the Rökorm began to vibrate and she could feel the body beneath her swelling, an air burst was inevitable. But she'd done what she needed to and she'd won, even if the Rökorm didn't know it yet. Punching her hand into the wound she grimaced as she felt its innards, driving her arm up to its elbow before channeling her magic. Every last drop she could muster without passing out was poured into her spell, a flame that swirled violently within the beast and licked at its organs as it grew. The beast swelled and was about to release its own attack but Nymira was faster, unleashing her spell and letting the flames erupt within the creature, and its effects were immediate. The howl from the Rökorm was unlike anything she had ever heard before and it made her desperately try to cover her ears, cringing and gritting her teeth as its screech assaulted her eardrums. Writhing about even more violently than before she kept the spell channeled as flames began to seep out from its already weakened flesh, smoke billowing from its vents before flames spit forth from there too. Within seconds the Rökorm was on the ground and fighting like a fish out of its element, haplessly writhing about with no means of escape. Pulling her arm free at last Nymira fell back and barely kept herself sitting, watching as the flames she'd released erupted from the Rökorm's eyes and mouth, its entire body beginning to glow as the flame consumed it from the inside out. With one final screech it seemed to attempt to turn to her and attack but only a guttural noise escaped before it fell to the ground, unmoving as the fire continued to eat away at its flesh.
Had they actually killed it? Her eyes told her that the beast was very dead but it almost seemed too optimistic to think so. For a moment Nymira simply stared at the Rökorm as if believing it might spring back to life, or that another beast would appear any moment. Yet nothing greeted them besides silence, an odd yet welcoming silence that washed over the battlefield. It was dead, the Vazra had been slain and by some miracle she and Ethan had actually managed to kill the serpent. Looking to her companion she smiled slightly as he managed to give her a thumbs up from his prone position on the ground, returning the gesture before letting out a curt laugh.
"Your beast is dead... And good riddance to it..." Nymira called, shaking a bit of the blood from her arm and wrinkling her nose at the smell. Hardly the most graceful battle she had ever taken part of but they had decidedly come away victorious, no casualties while their enemies lay at their feet dead. Wiping her face off on her clean sleeve she looked to Kensen, her smile thinning as she lifted her head and slowly rose to her feet. "I trust we've proven ourselves... And that this silly trial of yours is over."