pantothenic

The Hourglass Order

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Metropolis

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When Yalen was thrown back by the kinetic shockwave he was instantly reminded of the time he blew those demons in Eskand sky-high. Thankfully someone was here to break his fall this time, as Lady Yang was able to rescue him before he crashed through a nearby building. Whatever he or his companions thought about the police in Rettan, it was a fact that they were well trained and quick to react, and for that he was grateful. His body floated gently downwards until his feet were touching the ground. Then, he was giving orders.

"One of you help Cai and Feng secure the old man! Everyone else with me! We're going in!" Yalen shouted while pointing at his teammates. He donned the Mask of the Tengu and readied his tools, the magical staff he borrowed from Ingrid and a brass censer used for religious ceremonies. He didn’t know what tools he would need for this engagement, so he prepared himself for anything.

Ingrid and Niallus were at his side in moments, the pair apparently being much faster on their feet than he was. They pulled ahead and blasted their way through the front door with a combined kinetic and arcane assault. That very same moment, sections of the building burst into flames and a dozen enemies scattered through the windows and balconies. A tongue of flame nearly set his robe on fire as Yalen skidded to a halt, unable to follow his allies into the collapsing structure.

Blasted fanatics. The priest looked around with his eyes and his sixth sense to get a handle on the developing situation. Half of the criminals were making a run for it. The Rettanese policemen were either engaging the hostiles or pursuing those who fled. A few went in after Ingrid and Niallus, quenching the flames with practiced efficiency. A great power was surging nearby, but it faded too quickly to get a read on it. When it was gone, so was Lady Yang.

They were ready for us. Fine then, we’ll do this the hard way. Where are you…? Yalen locked onto the six signatures belonging to the escaping fugitives. He wasn’t going to let them get away. Taking a prisoner was the only reliable way to secure key information about the Traveler’s dealings within the city. The success of this mission might depend on it.

They’re fast, but they’re not fast enough. He grit his teeth and locked onto the two nearest runners. He raised his scepter in the air and shouted to the sky with holy authority.

”SUBMIT!“

When he tried to command them, the Traveler’s agents actively resisted the attempt. Their effort was commendable, but after a few seconds of struggling the Dark Somnian managed to worm his way past their defenses and assume direct control. When the realization dawned that they were under the influence of a command mage, Yalen could feel their heartbeats quicken ever so slightly. They knew what was coming. They knew HE was coming.

KNEEL!" Yalen shouted. Four of the fleeing energies continued to move forward. Two were stopped dead in their tracks. The prey had been snared, and now it was time to inspect the trap. "I've caught two of them! Those who have the strength to do so, come with me!" Yalen broke away from the chaos and sprinted after the fleeing agents, his feet carried by his pair of enchanted sandals. Those who knew him before wouldn't have guessed he was capable of running so fast.

After crossing through alleyways and side streets, Yalen was eventually able to find the two men frozen like a pair of statues, their bodies and manas both paralyzed by the effect of his word. "Let's make sure you bastards don't go anywhere." Yalen seethed between labored breaths. He bound their hands, feet, and mouths with cloth bandages he'd normally use to stop somebody bleeding, then produced a pair of silver needles. These needles dripped with the poison of the plushtail plant, an exceedingly rare substance known specifically for its ability to exterminate manas. He stabbed each of the Traveler's cronies in a major blood vessel and let the poison work, knowing that they wouldn't be able to dispel it as long as their manas belonged to him. By the time his command wore off, they would be powerless to escape by themselves.

Yalen felt Rikard's presence approaching and turned to acknowledge him. "I'm glad you came. Help me carry one of them." He requested while hoisting one of the prisoners over his shoulders.

Rikard glanced apprehensively at Yalen. "What did you just...use on them!? the boy asked, a slight crack in his voice. He lifted both, in fact - the one Yalen had slung over his shoulder and the other - with the help of Kinetic magic and a capacity that had grown substantially since the previous school year.

"I would tell you, but then I would have to kill you." Yalen said in a serious voice. It didn't take long for him to start laughing afterwards, though his smile was hidden behind his breathing mask. "Let's just say I turned their own bodies against them. There's magic out there that the academy will never be able to teach you." The priest stretched his arms as he felt the weight literally lift off of his shoulders.

"What about the others? What about the one in the hood?"

"I wanted to catch all six of these pests, but I lacked the skill. I'm sorry to say that the others are still at large." Yalen shook his head in disappointment. The conversation between the two Biros was interrupted by a flare-up of energy in the direction of the mansion where they just came from. The battle wasn't over yet. "Come on, let's see if the others need our help!"

Rikard glanced apprehensively over his shoulder. "It'll only take one of us to get these two back," he decided. "The other should join the guards and track down the last four, right!?" The boy was already preemptively drawing, the air around him light and crackling with electricity.

Yalen clasped Rikard's shoulder and nodded. "Okay, let's split up. Be careful on your way back." Before he departed the area, Yalen cut his connection to the two prisoners so that he could keep command magic open as a defensive option. There would be a few minutes before their manas realized they were no longer being controlled, and by then the plushtail toxin would have already circulated through and killed most of them off. He trusted Rikard's ability to handle them in this state.

Now where are the guards headed... Yalen closed his eyes and concentrated for a minute. When he found who he believed were the goldcloaks in pursuit of the other escapees, he took off running.

Yalen was able to catch up to the four goldcloaks and their quarry in almost no time. They were more focused on being evasive than covering ground, and it showed. It was now a five on four and the Retanese Guardians, recognizing him, made to cover and escort the Somnian in. Three of the masked figures whirled and targeted Yalen, and there was something about those masks that was strangely familiar. The fourth turned on the spot and pulled out a small device that seemed to be a pair of connected spheres, stalking up in front of her group and holding it above her head. "I do not want fight you," she declared. "I want no more deass." She flipped the switch and Yalen felt his magic die.

"That's not going to work this time!" Yalen challenged. He took a deep breath and focused inwards. He had encountered magic dampening devices many times before, and now he was finally ready to try and do something about it. "RESIST!"

As strong as Yalen's command over his manas was, this was no ordinary dampener. He could feel a fuzziness to his magic: a severe almost... buzzing in his veins. His connection was tenuous, and his ability to exercise more than basic magics limited. "You surrender now, Somnian. We not want hurt you!" The leader remained at the front, the other three behind her, and she repeated her warning in Retanese for the others, though Yalen would've been hard pressed to recognize it as such beyond situational cues. "离开他，你们都可以毫发无损地走开。那个牧师就是我们想要的。" The two sides were almost upon each other. A decision would need to be made within the next couple of seconds.

Damn. So this is all I can do? Yalen clenched his jaw. He turned to look at the goldcloaks behind him. They were as stoic as they were trained to be, but they appeared uneasy. There was no way the Traveler's soldiers would act this cocky unless they were able to pacify his reinforcements as well. This was going to get ugly if he pressed too hard. He'd done his part and secured two prisoners, and so he would have to hope that was enough to help bring this case to a close. "...Retreat!" He shouted while waving his hand, hoping they would understand his body language if not his words. After that, Yalen retreated a few steps while facing their leader, only fully turning his back when there was some distance between them. He didn't stop to check if the Rettanese officers were following him or not. He couldn't help them without magic.

"必要时杀死其他人，但对牧师要温柔。他是一个特别的人。" The gold-masked woman was issuing orders now. She reached out with kinetic magic and Yalen could feel himself slow, the efforts of his muscles counting for less and less as the momentum left him. One of his guards - Peng - turned and cursed back at the hooded woman with real venom. Then, as one, all four turned and charged. "You go!" shouted Zhang. "快! 我们会拖延他们。" (Quickly! We will delay them.) As one, they converged on the leader, trying to do anything that they could to dislodge that damnable device.

"..." Yalen felt something catch in his throat. He didn't know what the man just said, but he knew what he was doing. This was a rear guard action with no guarantee of survival. He felt like a piece of shit letting them do something like this for his sake, but Yalen knew that toothless heroics didn't count for anything. Yalen kept his feet moving away from the masked assailants and didn't look back no matter what. "Resist damnit! Resist!" He continued to shout in the vain hope that he could still help them from far away. With the amount of magic he could access right now he couldn't even cook a pot of soup.

The four brave goldcloaks were thrown aside, either violently into buildings or knocked out with Chemical magics. They were no match for the masked men, who seemed... unusually strong. Their leader drew aggressively from Yalen's momentum, slowing him and not allowing him to gain even more ground than he already had. To his surprise, his efforts to fight against their nullifying device were working to some extent, but the amount of magic he could muster was insufficient to face off against four battle hardened enemy mages.

"Guess I have no choice...!" Yalen scrambled his sixth sense around the immediate area seeking out Rikard, the only person he knew for sure would be close enough to help in time. He would be easy enough to spot with two deadweights tagging along with him. When he managed to find the signature, he gave his friend a pinch behind the ears, sending the universal signal that all tethered knew by heart. HELP.

Yalen continued to run for his life, turning down side streets, skipping through alleyways, and jumping over obstacles. Suffering from an extreme case of tunnel vision, he didn’t notice the darkening of the sky or the unnatural clumping of storm clouds overhead. It wasn’t until he crossed a puddle of water and felt the air fill with static that he realized Rikard had come to his rescue. Yalen shielded his eyes from a blinding flash of light, and there was an ear splitting explosion behind him. He turned around to defend himself from what remained of the enemy after Rikard’s assault, but there was no-one left standing. There was only a blanket of ash and scorched earth, in the middle of which lay the unconscious leader of the terrorist cell.

Rikard's feet touched down in front of Yalen and he tossed a glance over his shoulder. Looking back at his friend, he merely smirked. "Holding up alright?"

"That... was... huff..." Yalen bent over wheezing. His eyes were still swimming from being blinded by lightning, and he was exhausted from running at full sprint for so long. He spun around to look at the aftermath of Rikard's devastating attack. It didn't even smell like burnt meat. There was nothing but blackened ash left where the faceless revolutionaries once stood. How lucky that there was a big puddle right when he needed it. Wait, how old was Rikard again? That attack was-

"Amazing. You are truly amazing. Thank you." Yalen pushed off his knees and straightened his back. He would not soon forget the debt he owed Rikard. That could be repaid later, but for now it was time to complete their mission. If they failed now after so much heartache they would never live it down. Yalen got down on one knee and grabbed the woman's wrist to check her pulse. Somehow she had managed to survive a blast that utterly annihilated the other three.

"I'm out of that poison so I can't disable her magic in the long term..." Yalen rapped his knuckles against his forehead. After thinking about what he had seen up until now, he eventually realized something important. "Hey, she has some kind of device in her possession that steals your magic. We need to find it!" He roughly turned her on her side and started rough handling her belongings, hunting desperately for the anti-magic sphere.

The moment that he seized upon it, however, her eyes flashed open. "I see you again soon, stupid boy," she taunted, suddenly uninjured. She spared a sour look at Rikard and then, with a sudden surge of what Yalen would clearly recognize as Temporal magic, she was gone and he was left holding one half of the badly-damaged device.

"Damn you! Come back here!" Yalen swiped at the empty air with his free hand. He knew why those masks were so familiar. His sworn enemy, the Volti, were here in Rettan. A stroke of fortune at last. He wasn’t able to take her head this time, but somehow he had managed to snatch that blasted device of hers. "Huh?" After looking at it more closely, it was only one half. It was trashed too. From the looks of it, he'd need to take it to the likes of Kerremand or Hogh Munkhelad for repairs. Rikard's lightning was way too strong. "It's broken. That lady is long gone so let's go back for the prisoners and scram." Yalen shoved the metal orb into his bag and the two boys set off in search of the captives.

The Hourglass Order

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Primitive

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As soon as Yalen and Jocasta cleared the passage, the stone gateway slammed shut behind them. The further the two of them ventured into the ruins, the less the sun’s light was able to penetrate the suffocating darkness within. They had come far enough now that it was no longer possible to see even a single inch in front of them without a light source. In case there was something down here that reacted negatively to magic use, they elected to make use of a torch that was kindly provided to them by Escarra’s rangers. It wasn’t much, but it allowed them to proceed further without tripping over themselves for the time being. The hall was rather plain, decorated only by evenly spaced rows of torches that lined the walls on both sides.

The normally playful couple was distressingly quiet as they advanced through the one way corridor. They were both listening for the faintest of sounds, anticipating that at any moment some monster or devious trap was about to be sprung on them. Not once had they ever explored a ruin without running into a hazard of some kind. With how well guarded ancient treasures often were, it was as if their ancestors expected to be resurrected someday.

Yalen was so focused on watching the walls and ceiling that he failed to notice the danger laying right under his feet. It was a single brick, looking a bit too new and set a little too low compared to the rest of the floor. When he crossed over the pressure plate, an audible click echoed through the giant hallway that sent their hearts racing into panic mode. One by one the sconces burst into flames, while ancient mechanisms exposed gaps in the brickwork that contained giant metal tubes…?

”Yalen, get down!” Jocasta grabbed her lover’s sleeve and dragged him to the floor before diving out of her wheelchair. A second later, a horizontal line of obsidian darts whizzed over their heads.

Yalen tossed his torch away and readied the Scepter of Ahn-Shune for the struggle. ”UNITE!” He cried out, combining his strength with Jocasta’s so that he could tap into her immense power. As he summoned his command magic he realized that elsewhere, Desmond’s strength was beginning to fade. The time limit was approaching.

More needles flew through the air, from the front, from behind, from everywhere at once. Jocasta blasted them all away with a wave of kinetic force, but the traps kept firing with seemingly limitless ammunition. At the same time, the area was gradually filling up with a strange mist that formed dense, slightly yellowish clouds that creeped towards the tethered with ill intent. Anything it seemed to touch fizzled and cracked as if the rock was being doused by acid. It likely WAS acid based on the smell.

She wouldn’t be able to do much more than this without leaving a gap in her defenses. Yalen understood it was up to him to pick up the slack. With the tethered evenly splitting their RAS he was, for the moment, at the level of a prodigy. He used his borrowed power to create a small bubble of safety around them, transmuting the acid into its constituent elements which were far less lethal. Jocasta grabbed him by the hand and lifted the two of them off the ground along with her wheelchair. In the grip of a Skyborn, Yalen felt like he was floating on a cloud, and the queer sensation sent a shiver through his body. They rocketed through the hallway like a musket ball, threats being disintegrated or turned aside by their combined efforts. Yalen winced as one of the deflected darts whizzed past his face, leaving a small cut on his cheek that burned like a papercut. It was difficult to keep his eyes open at the speed they were going, but he could make out the shape of a glowing arrow at the end of the passageway. Whether it led them to the exit or deeper into this madness mattered little. Anywhere was better than here!

The Hourglass Order

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Metropolis

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Yalen had stayed up late last night and woken up early. The sun was still half below the horizon when he crawled out from under his bed cover. He hadn’t gotten a healthy amount of sleep before their big outing, but it was easy enough to trick his brain into believing he did with the application of chemical trickery. That combined with a tincture of ground holly and he was as alert as he needed to be, at least for today. Before getting dressed Yalen dedicated an hour or so to prayers and self reflection. Some things had to be done whether he was on a mission or not.

After his prayers were finished Yalen lit two sticks of incense, one for Dami and one for Oraff, and placed them in a holder at his bedside. He threw open the curtains to let in what little light there was at this early hour. The window was still opaque with morning dew, not yet evaporated by the coming sunrise. The priest donned his vestments and gathered the full extent of his equipment and provisions, anticipating that today would involve more than a simple tour of the city. The medicines he carried needed to be properly maintained for freshness, so he used some of the spare time and replaced the oiled paper holding his remedies with fresh material, provided to him free of charge by their Rettanese benefactors.

Yalen sat down for the morning meal and tucked into a bowl of wonton soup. As he did so his eyes continuously wandered between the Xiulan, the innkeepers, and their Eeaiko exchange student. Yalen was finally able to pinpoint why the figure he detected last night felt so familiar after being in close proximity to her. She was an exact match. What was she doing while believing the rest of them to be asleep? Was Kaureerah trying to complete the mission on her own, or was she betraying her trust and giving information to the enemy? He couldn’t go throwing around accusations without proof of either motive, so Yalen was unable to confront her about it. Even if he brought it up she could just play dumb. For now he resolved to keep an even closer eye on their fishy friend until her loyalties could be determined.

After breakfast the group departed the inn for the day and ventured into the city. Yalen couldn’t help but feel that Ersand’Enise was more pleasant to be in, but he knew it was an unfair comparison to make. The size of this place dwarfed the academy city by orders of magnitude, so a little bit of grime and poverty was to be expected. It still wasn’t as filthy as Mudville.

When they passed by the spice market, Yalen was singled out by a scrappy looking kid carrying a burlap sack on his back. The boy tugged on his priestly robes while trying to communicate some kind of offer in broken Avincian.

“Look, look! Medicine! Very good! You buy!” The kid opened his sack and tried showing off an assortment of powders and liquids. Yalen recognized most of them to be common remedies for things like stomach aches and sore teeth. His guess was that this was a pharmacist’s son. It was too bad that he could make simple medicines like that on his own.

”No, I don’t really…“ Yalen raised his hand in objection, but his interest was piqued by one item that he was totally unfamiliar with.

”What’s this?“ Yalen pinched one of the boy’s bags and inspected it. The smell and appearance of this powder was something he’d never encountered before while studying at the monastery.

“Watch!” The kid stuck his finger into the bag, and when he pulled it out his finger was nearly invisible. Yalen’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t even heard rumors of something like this existing in Constantia. Was this a Rettanese special?

I must have this. Yalen dug out his coin purse and bartered with the peddler while his escort impatiently shuffled their feet behind him.

---

Yalen boredly picked at his food while listening to the Exemplar on the patio. The day was more than half gone, and the only progress they had made in regards to the mission so far was being handed some folders containing a briefing on the murder cases. While that was certainly helpful, he would rather be doing something productive. Why hadn’t they been given these documents upon arrival? Why did this feel more like a tour than an investigation? Was someone trying to lead the team by the nose? Yalen’s mind was so full of negative thoughts he could no longer recall what Wu Long and the others were talking about. Well, except the part about magic use in Rettan. He had some thoughts about their crackdown on mages based on his trip to the future, but he reminded himself that now was not the time to get philosophical.

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"你的主人在哪里!?" (Where is your master?) the woman shouted at the old man. She was beautiful, but steely-eyed and severe in bearing. "不知道!" (Don't know!) he insisted, "我不知道!" (I don't know!) he cried.

"我不相信你" (I don't believe you.) came the frosty reply. The already-thinning crowds swirled back to a distance, radiating fear, but they did not entirely flee as kicks rained down upon the old servant. "What's his crime?" Kaureerah blurted, clearly distraught at the display. "How do they know he's guilty!?"

Xiulan shifted uncomfortably, but she put on a sympathetic smile and grabbed hold of the eeiako's hand. "I know it is... distressing," she admitted, and Kaureerah noticed that her hand was trembling, "But if the Grey Ghosts come for him, he is guilty already. One hundred percent, or he's master. He has been done some very bad sing. Do not to worry."

Wu Long sat there, tall and stoic, expression unreadable. "Do not worry," he repeated, with slightly better grammar, "This is Retan."

Yalen didn’t say anything at first as he watched the situation unfold, but a few of his other comrades were unable to maintain their composure in the face of such brutality. He cringed as Niallus and Maura debated Wu Long on the principles of justice and fair treatment.

It’s not like the rest of us aren’t thinking the same as you. But it is not the time to be acting like a hero! Yalen pinched the bridge of his nose. Throwing accusations at their hosts was no way to get on their good side. He was lucky the Exemplar was a reasonable man. If it was another official being chided, the servant might have gotten beaten even worse. Niallus might have been arrested. Then the mission would be tits up. In an attempt to clear the air, Yalen decided to speak up despite his misgivings.

"Violence is just one tool a lawmaker can use to achieve compliance. This is true in every country, not just Rettan." Yalen gave Wu Long a knowing look. He himself knew quite a bit about the enhanced interrogation techniques of the Somnian order. He'd put them into practice more than once.

"Magic users are a dangerous sort. Maybe the guards viewed this level of force to be necessary in order to protect themselves and the public. We lack too many details to be casting judgment this early..." The priest walked towards the guards and their soon to be prisoner and placed his hands behind his back. "If you don't mind me asking, was this man resisting arrest?"

Wu Long allowed Xiulan to repeat Yalen's words in Retanese for the Greys and Yang addressed him in response. "She says that he was resisting the Emperors' justice by attempting to flee and that he made it worse by feigning ignorance." Wu Long's eyes flicked Yalen's way and caught his. "That is her accusation."

Yalen tilted his head to the left and scratched his chin. "So he fled." He turned to face the leader of the Greys and gestured towards the servant. "What were you shouting at him earlier? Was he using magic, or is he wanted for some other reason?"

The man began shouting, then, directing it towards Yalen, eyes flicking desperately in Xiulan's and the Exemplar's direction. "我不知道他在哪里。我什么都不知道！我没有做错!" The translator looked worriedly towards Wu Long, but he nodded. "You may do your job without fear," he assured her, and she swallowed and nodded, reproducing Yalen's words in her native tongue. Yang scowled and replied. "She says he's master lets some criminal stay zere and hides it from the government." She paused nervously. "The old man says he does not know where he's master is. He knows no sings. He didn't to do anysing wrong."

Yang regarded Yalen appraisingly, as if to say, 'Are you going to keep talking or are you going to do something?' In the background, the man began shouting again and it sounded more or less like the same thing. He prostrated himself on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

"Let me talk to your prisoner for a second." Yalen crouched down in front of the man and pulled the back of the man's shirt so he was eye level with him. He patted the servant's cheek and subtly toyed with his brain chemicals to make him a bit calmer. The priest didn't care if the Greys bristled at him. They appeared to understand he was trying to help them and kept their mouths shut.

"Hey, hey, please settle down. Who do you work for mister? Who is your master?" He asked. Yalen looked towards Xiulan and tipped his chin upwards.

To the best of Yalen's knowledge, Xiulan translated his words, glancing over her shoulder at Wu Long more than once. "这房子是为皇帝的外宾预留的。我叫宝，只在这里工作。来此拜访的人名叫灰。 我发誓这是真的!" came the old servant's response, complete with further prostration and a pleading tone. Xiulan did her best to capture it without going over the top. "Zis house was reserved for the emperor's foreign guests. My name is Bao and I only to work here. Ze name of ze person who came to visit was Hui. I swear it's true!" He appeared to be so worked up that a light application of Chemical magic would not be enough to calm him. Before Yalen could manage so much as a response, however, Lady Yang cut in. "他已经告诉我们五次了。他没有说谎，但他遗漏了信息。" She shook her head tightly, clearly unhappy. Xiulan shrank away from her and looked to the Exemplar again, but he nodded again for her to translate. "She say he said zis sing five times already and he is honest but he not saying other informations."

Yalen sighed and dropped his head down in frustration. He really wanted to take his time here, but time was short and the guards wouldn't stand there watching him chat the man up forever. There had to be a way to open him up in the next couple of minutes, or else he'd just have to move on to the next part of the puzzle with pieces missing. What can I do to get him to talk... Yalen thought. If the man kept repeating himself then his guess was that the servant either scared stupid, or he was being threatened by someone. He squeezed the man's head with both hands and forced the servant to look him straight in the eye. With the Blessing of Joy he stimulated the production of endorphins in the man's brain to alleviate his stress. If he still refused to talk then more drastic measures would be necessary...

"Listen to me very carefully Mr. Bao. You haven't told us nearly enough for us to be satisfied. These men are not going away until you give us more information, so you better start talking while they're still in a lenient mood. WHO is your master, and WHAT does he do? I need you to give more clues so I can convince these guards to let you go. You'd like that wouldn't you?" Yalen punctuated his statement by shaking Bao's head a little bit.

'Mr. Bao' stiffened when Yalen grabbed him so forcefully, before his mind was fried with emotions that were not his own. In response to the Meattan's chemical stimulus, his lips started to pucker, before breaking into an uncontrolled smile. Yalen continued, delivering his threats, and Xiulan duly translated, though it was difficult to tell if she had gotten the tone correct. The man knew what they were, however, for he was not stupid. He listened on, even as he was shaken, and an enormous, vacant, tooth-filled grin split the lower half of his face. Then, his mouth opened, and he laughed. He laughed. And he laughed. And he laughed.

"你问我谁是我师父?" he suddenly blurted, voice going cold and icy. Xiulan began to translate: "You ask me who is my master?", but his grin was a sick thing now: sick and toothy. "Aaaaah haha! Aha! Aaaahahahaaaa!!" In the background, the last rays of the sun dipped below the rooftops. All around Yalen came the drawing of powerful magics, most of all from Lady Yang. "你看不到我的主人，但他看到了你!" (You do not see him, but he sees you!) An outward explosion of kinetic energy erupted from the Servant and slammed into Yalen, sending him flying across the street.

The Hourglass Order

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Metropolis

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Thanks to all the built up misunderstandings, Yalen had been given the "seat of honor" at the dinner table. The meal tonight was obviously distant from the Constantian palette, but he was ever the foodie and didn't hesitate to dig in, at least after giving everyone's food a quick check for toxins. He picked up a bread-like dumpling and bit into it, and was taken aback by how dry the outer shell was. His hand instinctively went for his cup of tea, but then he noticed that there was a savory, almost broth-like filling inside, and it was delicious. While idly listening to a conversation between Rikard and their guide, Yalen's attention was caught by the mention of a particular phrase. "Bái wèibīng? What does that mean?" He asked Xiulan.

The smile fell off of her face as if he had just spilled his food, but the guide quickly recovered. "Oh, zem. Yes!" she exclaimed, after finishing a bite. "Zey are... like ze elite policeman in ze country, I sink. If zis problem was serious, Captain Zhu will call zem." She took a sip of her water. It seemed that they served it warm - almost hot - here instead of cool. "I know how is sound," she sighed. "Like I'm bad host, just deny deny deny, but if the problem was serious, I will tell you." For a moment, her eyes flicked about, almost imperceptibly quick, scanning her immediate surroundings and the mezzanine above before returning to Yalen. She smiled.

Yalen picked up on the obvious hint and became alarmed. Before giving her a response, he began scanning the first and second floor for eavesdroppers, while masking his pause with a sip of tea. There were two guards at the front door and one at the rear. Two appeared to be resting already, and another in conversation with Captain Zhu up on the mezzanine floor. For the moment, there was nobody listening in aside from Yin, busy bringing in some new plates, but then she was back out. Xiulan's eyes met Yalen's. She smiled again, knowingly, this time. "You are a smart man, I sink," she told him quietly. "Nobody is watch wiss his eyes or listen wiss his ears." She paused for a moment, taking another dumpling. "See!" she concluded cheerily. "Retan is a very safe place!" She leaned in and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I can see you like our food too, hmm?" She rose, quite suddenly. "Come!" she encouraged, gesturing for him to follow. "Come, I show you how we make. Yin doesn't mind."

Yalen had to hold back a smirk. He wasn't expecting a catch this big on the first day. He scooted out of his chair and stood up. "Really? I'd love to see that."

"Oh good!" exclaimed Xiulan, "because I want to show you!" She managed a little giggle and it was apparent that she'd had a bit to drink. She led him out of the courtyard and through a large set of double doors. It was dim where they were, with few lanterns to light their way: enough to see by, but not in detail. There were candles in wall sconces they could've lit, but she didn't light them. After a moment, not too far from the noise of the kitchen, she opened a small door and abruptly pulled Yalen inside. It was... a closet.

"...Quite." Yalen uncomfortably shifted as his medicine pouch dug into his waist. He turned his head slightly so he wouldn't be breathing over her face. Suspecting that this woman hadn’t captured him to sample the quality of Constantian men, he got straight to the point.

"So, let's talk shall we? It's obvious that the Traveler is not our only concern here. Who, or what, are you really afraid of?"

"Ze Hēi wèishì," she whispered, practically mouthing it, but she shook her head. "Like ze Bái wèibīng. Zey are not ze normal police. Nobody know he's real name or what looks like. Only ten of zem." She took a moment to swallow. "Sorry for my breass. It's bad." She let out a nervous chuckle. "Zey are not bad person. Zey are to help wiss find the Traveler. Very strong, zough. Very secret. I sink you are not here to do ze work." She paused for a moment, going still and holding a finger to her lips. Seemingly satisfied, she then continued.

"You must to understand: Retan have a different culture to Eastern country. Zis is a very political sing, I sink. Hēi wèishì handle it. Zey say you do it. Zey make some mistake, zey say you do it. You say nossing, okay?" she all-but demanded. "Or I get in big trouble and you get new guide, less fun." It was a poor attempt at levity, but an attempt nonetheless. Then, there came a series of clanks from the kitchen and the sound of a door opening. Xiulan yanked Yalen out before either Yin or her father could round the bend in the hallway. It was the latter, in this case and they spoke rapidly in Retanese. He regarded Yalen with a smile and said some things that the youth could not understand, but his gestures were clear, and Yalen picked up 'Yin' in there. "He say we can go see how ze foods are made," the guide explained, perfectly cheery again. "Come come!" She already had Yalen by the hand, and she fluttered into the kitchen with him in tow.

Yalen was not offended by her haste. He didn't intend to drag her any deeper into this mess. For now he allowed himself to be led along to keep up appearances, but behind his calm smile was a spark of determination. Someone else would give him more information, willingly or not. No matter what, he needed a name.

They returned to the courtyard table a few minutes later with Yin and another few platters of food, Yalen picking at one already and Xiulan playfully scolding him, none the wiser, or so it would seem. He would keep his mouth shut for the rest of the meal, but later on when dinner was concluded Yalen would go on to share what he had learned with the others, while making an open request for them to dig up more information about the secret police.

---

Twilight had fallen on the city, and most respectable work had been wrapped up for the day. This was the hour of crooks, carousers, and courtesans. Yalen had no idea if the capital city had an enforced curfew, but he felt the ice was still too thin to risk treading its surface. The team had been informed that they should be ready at eight o’ clock by the reckoning of Rettanese timepieces, and a skilled chemical mage could delay their sleep for some time, so Yalen elected to use the night hours for self study. He placed a cushion next to his coffee table and used it as a desk, producing what appeared to be a handwritten book as well as note taking materials.

An hour or so after sunset he bookmarked a page in his tome and rubbed his eyes. Yalen tapped his pen against his chin idly, then looked at his free hand. He gripped the writing implement tightly and pricked his thumb with it, allowing a miniscule trickle of blood to flow freely from the wound. The priest discarded his pen and clutched his wrist, while closing his eyes in concentration.

”Mend.”

Yalen stared at his thumb expectantly for… something to happen. A few seconds had to pass for him to realize that the intended effect had not materialized.

”Mend!”

Still nothing. He sighed and hastily stitched his finger closed with binding magic. Then he got off of the floor cushion and crawled dejectedly into bed. He was finally beginning to drift off, but before he was able to, the tethered mage was swept by a mild sense of paranoia, though he knew not the cause. The compulsion was too strong for Yalen to ignore, so to alay his personal fears he distracted himself with some productive meditation. Spreading his awareness outwards, he cast his mental net and began to passively investigate the energy sources he found. He was particularly interested in finding evidence of magic use, but despite being able to sense over a distance of over seven kilometers, Yalen detected no more than two incidents of magic. It was certainly night time, but Wanggang contained hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people within its walls. Statistically there should have been more magic use nearby, even given his limited ability to read more than a few energy sources at a time.

Something feels off here… Yalen thought to himself. He was about to give up when, at the very last minute, he felt the presence of a magic user. A proper mage this time, burning with energy that could only be mustered by someone trained extensively in drawing. They didn’t feel human though. Or did they? He felt like he recognized this kind of signature from one of the species he encountered during the Trials, but the memory was already faded from disuse.

They’re tangling with someone else. After widening his radius Yalen realized that there was a second individual close to the first one, and they seemed to be caught in a chase. The second one was definitely not human. Either that, or they were simply so strong that his mind could only see them as a monster.

The signatures eventually faded from his focus. Yalen investigated the humanoid thoroughly before he lost the connection, committing the fuzzy sensation to memory as best as he could. It was a very small chance, but he might come close to that unseen individual tomorrow. If that happened, he would know, and he would find them.

The Hourglass Order

---

Event: Primitive

---

Yalen was reluctant to stay behind while Jocasta charged in on her own, but logic dictated that tethered stay far away from the fighting whenever possible. He felt reassured by the fact that Zarina and Ayla had her back. There were few he could trust as much as those two. Since he couldn’t be there in body, he would send his spirit; his armored colleague received as much strength as he could possibly give her by manipulating her body’s chemistry, deadening her nerves to pain and filling her blood with oxygen and adrenaline.

When he sensed a temporal disturbance directly adjacent to his position Yalen turned his head. The portal this time was not the enemy’s, thankfully, and the reinforcements that came out of the portal were faces that the Somnian recognized fairly well. He’d known Desmond since the beginning of his adventures, and Evander was an effective ally during the battle of the Trials. Others he knew from their fatal misadventure in the cliffs of Revidia, or elsewhere besides.

We needed help to beat a sand wyrm last time as well. Yalen reminisced. Would his magusjaeger colleague land the killing blow yet again? It was unfortunate that there was no deer golem around to ride them into the fight this time. Jocasta and company would have to hold out as long as possible until the second team got there.

”Jocasta, Zarina and Ayla are currently in the middle of rescuing our rangers. That way.“ Yalen pointed his finger to where he could sense the maelstrom of energy that was the royal sand wyrm. ”I don’t think Jocasta would appreciate getting pinched during the fight of her life. I’m sorry, but you must make your way there on your own. Isabella and I will help hinder the dragon as best as we can from here.“

Before the five men departed for battle, Yalen patted Desmond on the shoulder.

”You are the only one who was there with us the last time we fought one of these beasts. If something goes wrong, I’m trusting you to get our girls back to safety.“ He pressed the Scepter of Ahn-Shune lightly against his chest and whispered a single, barely audible word. Commune. For a fraction of a second, Desmond’s entire body tingled as his cells responded to Yalen’s sacred command. Whether he liked it or not, the marksman’s manas would no longer listen to a single master, at least for as long as the bond persisted. Yalen was inwardly apologetic, but he saw it as a necessary measure, for borrowing control of his friend’s magic was the only way the young priest could bestow the greatest of his gifts.

”PROSPER!“

With how much he loved his mana shots, Desmond would undoubtedly recognize the feeling of great power welling up inside of his body. His magic capacity was now rising at an alarming rate. However, rather than temporarily aligning itself with a mass of wild manas, his own colony was the one growing beyond its natural born limit. Within a few minutes, they would have reproduced enough for him to stand on the same level as powerhouses like Benedetto and Jocasta, at least for a short time. He would be tired and starving at the end of the day, but that was surely a small price to pay.

”It would be a blessing if I could help all of you... but there is a limit to everything. Do what you have to do to keep our friends alive, okay?“

The Hourglass Order

---

Event: Metropolis

---

From the outset the Rettanese ambassadors seemed intent on treating Yalen as the leader. Some of his fellow Biros were okay with that, some appeared to silently take issue, and some didn’t seem to care. In his case, he was glad to have such a role fall into his lap with no effort on his part. The more these strangers trusted his authority the easier it would be to make himself heard when necessary. This whole mission would go smoothly as long as they could keep the local government on their side.

Being courteous in a foreign country was not that hard. Yalen copied what the political officers did: when they saluted, he saluted, and when they bowed he bowed back. These people knew he was a foreigner and had brought in the appropriate translators, so he was not embarrassed by his lack of understanding of the language. If anything bothered him at all it was the sheer amount of time they were wasting on mere greetings, when they could be working on catching the Traveler’s spy within the city. Anything related to the topic of that man instantly put him on edge.

”Hello. Yes, hello there. Nice to meet you.“ Yalen politely droned on as each civil servant stepped forward to introduce themself. Everyone had similar things to say about themselves and the hour was quite boring, broken up by the sudden Constantian style greeting offered by the man named Wu Long.

I better remember this fellow for later. He thought to himself.

Once the ceremony was over it was finally time to move on, and Yalen was glad for it. As the team walked around the densely packed city he carefully observed the common folk. Did they appear underfed? Was anyone sick? Were there obvious signs of poverty in the area? His eyes searched for clues regarding things of this nature, as these were factors that were commonly exploited by the Traveler to incite revolts. There had to be a reason for this city to be targeted in all of Rettan.

Yalen’s hand went straight for the scepter strung at his waist when he felt the kinetic disturbance. He was on a very light trigger right now. Their guide was not bothered by this, or at least was trying to look that way, and he didn’t want to press the issue when they were still fresh off the boat in an unknown land. Yalen wouldn’t try to assert himself until he had gotten a better feel for their Rettanese companions.

”Lead the way Blossom. It would be nice to discuss our future moves over a meal.”

The Hourglass Order

---

Yalen stepped out of the rip in space and, for the first time in ages, was able to hit the ground running. He could feel the hot sand on top of his feet as his weight sank him into the earth. Lack of sure footing used to be his worst enemy, but now those days were over. As long as he didn’t take these sandals off he wouldn’t be a hindrance to the team. It was not like his first time coming to Torragon, when the best he had to compensate for his lack of stability was a walking cane and a prayer.

”Oh my.“ Yalen craned his head towards the sky, his heart involuntarily skipping a beat at the sight of a pack of Froabases. Although he knew these ones were tame, he still had dreams about their near fatal encounter with the dragons out in the wasteland. When Laila finally hatched he was still too scared to feed her by hand. He slightly regretted not bringing the little monster along to meet some of her wild born kin, but knowing how dangerous these missions tended to be he chose to leave his dragon behind. Maybe she could be of use when she was able to properly breathe fire.

Yalen could feel the curious probing of others as he and the others infiltrated through the Red Tower. It wasn’t just in the metaphorical sense; he could literally feel them scanning him, just as one would be able to sense a mage drawing energy into their body. The unsolicited ‘gift’ he received in Eskand along with training from the church had made his sixth sense painfully aware of mana in general. It was not a special talent. He didn’t gain a new power that the others did not possess. Rather, he was forcibly made aware of a sensation most people just unconsciously ignored. It was like being blind to the natural act of breathing, only to become hyper focused on it when someone else reminded you that you were doing it.

After stepping off the lift Yalen leaned over the side of the colonnade to get a view of the refuge from above. There appeared to be even less torchlight than before now that the “caretakers” were out of the equation. It was unlikely that the refuge had received many more immigrants since regaining its independence. He could not detect anyone wandering outside of their homes at this late hour, but as Jocasta said, it was easy to tell that they were all on high alert. It was impressive how vigilant they had become in the short time they were allowed to take control of their own affairs. He was glad that the effort they spent protecting and training them all was not wasted.

At the end of the dimly lit path was the former overseer’s office, now occupied by Manuel Escarra. Or at least, it should have been. Yalen was as surprised as anybody to see Amanda sitting in his chair looking healthier than ever. However, he had seen enough of the world now to comprehend her survival. He and Jocasta had both tasted the restorative effects of a white aberration on Bloody Victendes. They were an even stranger anomaly than the black ones everyone at school was familiar with. Since that day he had become oddly resistant to the temptations of aberrations. He did not hear their voices anymore. The cardinal’s ring was in Jocasta’s possession now, and as far as he knew it wasn’t supposed to provide a permanent benefit to its wearer. The white aberration had changed him somehow, but up until now he was unable to determine how.

Maybe I can get more information from Amanda when this errand is over. Yalen thought as he listened intently to her briefing. He wondered who would be relegated to guard duty this time. He hated to assume Isabella would be one of them. Although she had learned some new tricks, she was no Jocasta when it came to flight. Wheelchairs and sand didn’t exactly mix well. Yalen himself couldn’t decide whether to stay behind or go with the investigation team. He couldn’t shake this bad feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong the moment they split up. He wished he could teleport anywhere he liked the way Jocasta did, but his present training was occupying all the time he could have possibly spared to study Temporal magic.

”Use me where you think I am needed most. I won’t let my personal feelings get in the way of the mission. I want to help any way I can.“

The Hourglass Order

The Heart of Bushido

Wikooroh Aktichak Yiataktahm

A single drop of water makes the ocean deeper still.

20 | Male | Neemaiyak | Warrior | 6.71

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [ Proud ]
❖ [ Independent ]
❖ [ Thick Skinned ]
❖ [ Strong Willed ]
❖ [ Nomadic ]

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Wikorooh is an atypical specimen of the Eeaiko. He has the same bluish colored skin and dark hair that blends in with the ocean abyss, but his body is larger and more muscular than a normal Eeaiko male. He is also a fair bit taller than the average Eeaiko. He is not handsome, but he is not ugly either. He bears a warrior’s countenance.

Wikorooh dresses in a manner similar to that of humans. Following the example of the neighboring Nikanese, whose lands are not far from Neemaiyak, he wears a loose fitting kosode made of sea silk. He imitates human culture by adorning himself with tattoos and using human weaponry, which has given him a strange reputation among his own people. In truth he admires mankind for their diversity, both in appearance and beliefs. Sometimes he thinks to himself, if he was born a human, then maybe he wouldn’t have felt so lonely during his formative years.

L A N G U A G E S

Wikorooh speaks the language of his own people just fine, but what is remarkable about him is how ably he can speak human tongues despite how recently he has begun to associate with them. From local human fishers and merchants, he has learned to communicate in both Avincian and Nikanese over the span of a few years. He has a broad understanding of vocabulary, but his accent may sound unusual, and like any Eeaiko his vocal patterns can be a bit alien.

T H E G I F T

Wikorooh’s magic use is focused on the fine art of underwater combat. With the power of kinetic enhancement he is able to match the speed of the threshers and sea dragons which he chases down for food and sport. Beneath the waves he is like a living bullet, able to reach speeds over 100 kilometers per hour no matter how strong the ocean current is. He is also very skilled in liquid manipulation and can effortlessly produce and shape water according to his will, using it for both offense and mobility when forced to fight on dry land. He has some experience in other types of magic as well; his aptitude in chemical and binding are intended to create self sufficiency, as being maimed by a sea monster’s teeth could easily spell the end of him during his long, solitary hunts. He knows a little bit of arcane magic too, to help regulate his body temperature in icy waters among other things.

❖ Arcane: Apprentice
❖ Binding: Apprentice
❖ Chemical: Adept
❖ Kinetic: Expert

Mana Type: Venomblood

B A C K G R O U N D

Born to a pair of subsistence fishers, Wikorooh was the eldest son of his family of twelve. Feeding so many mouths was hard work, and from an early age the oldest children were taught the family trade. While other kids spent their time after school gossiping with each other and playing games, Wikorooh was learning how to fully exploit the bounties of the sea to make ends meet. Trapping. Spearing. Cleaning. Preserving. Foraging. He could not boast to others of having great wealth to invest, and the amount of time spent putting food on the table left the young hunter with little time for creating new ideas. In their prosperous community his family was viewed as peasants that did little to contribute to the city’s grand projects, and while his childhood was not isolated he did encounter his fair share of bullies.

Despite being a small boy from a low class family, Wikorooh had always carried himself with pride. He refused to suck up to the bigger, meaner children, and he was not afraid to share what he thought about their childish cruelty. They could never be as scary to him as being surrounded by a swarm of sea scorpions in the middle of a kelp forest. Perhaps it was this pride that made him a target for others to pick on. Like crabs in a bucket they descended on him, and while he was still a runt Wikorooh found himself subject to all manner of harassment. Though his mother always asked him why he came home covered in bruises, Wikorooh gave her a convenient excuse each time. He never let himself cry in front of his parents, not only because he wanted to reassure them, but because he was too stubborn to let the abuse demoralize him.

Years passed and Wikorooh grew up. He became larger and stronger, until he was one of the tallest males in his community. As his skill with the spear grew, he alone could hunt prey that normally required two or three grown men to slay. As time went by his tormentor’s eyes became filled with uneasiness rather than disdain. He was not a target to them now, but a threat. His newfound strength earned him respite from his childhood enemies, but it did not make him any more popular. Up until he became an adult Wikorooh had few friends and no lovers to speak of. This didn’t bother him much. He was focused on continuing the family trade, and his brothers and sisters were as good friends as any other. He was content.

The turning point in Wikorooh’s life came when his manas started to fully express their characteristics. He could not commune with other Goldbloods the way all Eeaiko are meant to. He could not share his magic with others. To make things worse, it seemed that his mere presence was enough to make other magic users sick. His blood was cursed, and in order to separate him from the wider population he was declared a pariah. His parents did their best to defend him, but ultimately Wikorooh became an alien to all except his own flesh and blood. Even his siblings grew more distant. For all the love they had between them, Wikorooh could not control his abilities well enough to keep from hurting them, and their association with him was making it difficult to pursue their aspirations in Eeaiko society. Something had to change before his existence became a burden to the family.

Wikorooh took matters into his own hands. He was the oldest and strongest of his father’s children. He had the necessary skills to survive the ocean’s cruel depths. On an unremarkable date in the middle of the night, he gathered his meager belongings and ran away from home. He knew little of the outside world and had no destination in particular to go to. There was a very real possibility that he might die in a cold, dark place with nobody to mourn him. The young Wikorooh knew this, but love overpowered the fear. He left his family’s future in the hands of his brothers and sisters, whose talents he always believed to be far more valuable than his own. Someday they could become artists. Builders. Leaders. His only regret was that he would not be there to see them grow.

At fifteen years old, Wikorooh spent several months in solitude at sea. He ate whatever he could fish or scavenged off the corals, and when nightfall came he slept in caves or wrapped himself in the leaves of balloon kelp. During that time he met few members of his species, and the ones who did happen to cross his path instinctively kept their distance from him. After all, he was a strange Eeaiko without a place to call home. He could be nothing other than an outcast. The act of surviving was enough to occupy his thoughts most of the time, but Wikorooh eventually felt the loneliness creeping into his mind. As going back home was no longer an option, and with the isolation steadily driving him mad, Wikorooh chose to do something many Eeaiko considered taboo.

Wikorooh knew of humans. He had seen their shipwrecks scattered across the sea floor, and he had seen the shape of their galleons casting shadows at the water’s surface. History taught that they were a species full of thieves and conmen. In the past they had committed great injustices to the Eeaiko. But if his own people did not love him, what harm was there in seeking companionship among thieves? When the seas were calm and the sky was full of blue, Wikorooh darted towards the first ship he could find in hopes of finding another mind to connect with.

What he found was not a merchant galleon, but a puny boat not much bigger than a canoe. Inside this little wooden craft Wikorooh met his first human. He was a skinny sort of fellow, with narrow eyes and pale skin blistered by the sun’s rays. He wore robes that the lone fisherman had never seen before, and judging by the state of his body the man seemed to be starving and unconscious.

Fearing that his first human contact might be a dead man, Wikorooh poked his head over the side of the boat and raised his voice. With a combination of shouting and shaking the boat, he was able to rouse the human from his state of unconsciousness. The man was too weak to raise his head, and his human tongue was unintelligible to Wikorooh. However, unlike everyone else he had met, the stranger’s eyes betrayed no fear. The Eeaiko could not explain why, but he felt drawn to those eyes.

There was a language barrier between them, yet it was clear to Wikorooh that this human would not survive without his help. He took pity on the land dweller and, over the course of the next few days, nursed the marooned sailor back to health. There was no helping the lack of freshwater out at sea, but raw fish and sea fruit both had plenty of moisture and essential vitamins. It was enough at least to keep the human alive, and the more he ate the healthier he became. During this time the two of them tried to communicate with each other, but they could only convey basic ideas via hand gestures and body language. Wikorooh would never learn why the man was lost at sea nor what he did for a living. He only knew that his name was “Hiroshi”. None of it really mattered anyways. For the first time in months, the outsider could feel the joy of connecting with another sentient.

A few days after meeting each other, during one of their fruitless “conversations”, the sailor gestured rather insistently towards a small dot on the horizon. An island. Wikorooh understood what the human wanted. The boat had no sails and its oars were long gone. He wanted to go home, but he needed Wikorooh’s assistance. The idea of there being other humans made Wikorooh anxious, but at the same time he was excited. He fashioned a rope out of monkey vine and used it to slowly drag the human to land. He was unable to swim at his usual speed for fear of capsizing the vessel, and he had to spend more time fishing and foraging to feed an extra mouth. Slowly and steadily the two traveled together. Along the way they tried to teach each other words from their respective languages. When Wikorooh greeted the human, it was no longer “maun hoorek”, but “ohayou gozaimasu.” The two had gained a rare bond. To the human, Wikorooh was his savior, but he had also saved Wikorooh even if he didn’t know it. To feel companionship and purpose again after months of living alone was a blessing.

When Wikorooh and Hiroshi made landfall, the Eeaiko discovered the land he would later learn was Nikan, home of the samurai. The two unlikely friends parted ways then, but not for good. While Hiroshi went back to his home, Wikorooh discovered that other Eeaiko had built a small settlement called Neemaiyak not far from the island’s shore. Unlike his rather isolated community, these fellows were familiar with human culture and language. They even had a tentative trade agreement with the Nikanese. To an isolated village on the edge of Eeaiko civilization, a strong warrior like Wikorooh was a welcome sight regardless of his past. He continues to live there to this day, protecting his new family while learning more and more about the humans who he gained a newfound curiosity towards. Over time he adopted Nikanese clothing and weaponry, adding his own Eeaiko flavor to their manner of dress and fighting styles. In time, he even became brave enough to visit their settlements. The Nikanese people could be vicious and warlike, but they also produced great works of art and culture. Sometimes they could be quite selfish and isolated, and other times they showed even more cooperation than the Eeaiko peoples. It is that duality of man that Wikorooh finds fascinating, and for the time being he has decided to continue observing human society from a respectful distance, once in a while lending a hand to others lost at sea. Perhaps you might meet him someday?

M O T I V A T I O N

Wikorooh wants to experience more of human culture. He is interested in their food, their music, their language, and everything else besides. He spends a lot of time prodding the locals for rumors and information. He is also trying to become more educated, as he was not able to receive more than a basic education due to growing up poor. Wikorooh spends a lot of his free time reading human literature so he can learn about not only the Nikanese, but other human cultures as well, like the neighboring Rettanese to the northwest. He has recently taken an interest in the humanities, and is sometimes inspired to write his own poetry.

I N V E N T O R Y

Wikorooh has a hoard of oddities that he has collected from the human shipwrecks and trash piles. He has pilfered everything from coins to crab pots. Perhaps there are valuable relics and artifacts hidden within his hoard, but he wouldn’t know enough about human craftsmanship to realize it. He also has a pile of colorful shells, pearls, and sea sapphires collected from his foraging trips. His current weapon of choice is a naginata that he salvaged from the site of an old battlefield from the Nikanese civil war. He doesn’t know enough about their superstitions to fear the vengeance of the dead.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Underwater hunter
❖ Trained warrior
❖ Weapon based martial artist
❖ Survivalist
❖ Xenophile

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ Stubborn
❖ Overconfident in his strength
❖ Difficult to fight alongside

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

Hex code: ccf7ff

NPC character sheet made out of boredom. Let me know what you think!

The Hourglass Order

”Sir Ansel. It saddens me to be ordered to subdue someone who has supported the community as much as you have. What a shame this is.” Yalen paced back and forth in front of a man with a canvas bag wrapped over his head, tied to an expensive looking chair by his arms and legs. For a nobleman of his status, Sir Ansel’s bedchamber was quite modest in size. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration either, save for a few family portraits and some tastefully arranged ceramics. The room had already grown dark, as the sun was beginning to fall beneath the horizon. Only a faint wisp of candlelight was present to illuminate the shapes of Yalen, his captive, and another man in the corner wearing the vestments of a High Somnian. He had the phenotype of a Revidian, and a somewhat tall one at that, with light brown hair and a fairly muscular build. He cooly leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, apparently content to spectate the scene that was unfolding.

”My associate and I plied your servants with questions during our investigation. Unsurprisingly, they had a lot of good things to say about you.” Yalen raised a hand and cleared his throat. ”He treats his employees like family. He distributes alms to the poor. He is a devout worshiper of the Pentad...” Though his face was firmly neutral, there was a subtle edge to his voice as he sung the noble’s praises. ”Your butler even went so far as to call you a saint.” Yalen sighed and paced towards the still form of Sir Ansel. He pinched his fingers around the sack and ripped it off the man’s head, revealing a middle aged Perrechman who was staring daggers at the priest. He made a muffled grunt, but his voice was trapped due to the length of rope tied between his teeth.

”You have invented a rather clever identity for yourself. With all the good you do for this community, nobody would suspect you of being a murderer.” Yalen reached behind and untied Ansel’s mouth binding. The older man loosened his sore jaw while the young priest waited expectantly with his back turned. Though he was free to speak, the master of the house didn’t seem to be in a hurry to say anything in his defense. Yalen turned his head sideways.

”Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

“There is no point in saying anything.”

”Excuse me?” Yalen faced his prisoner properly and stepped closer so he could hear the man more clearly.

“Enjoy this farce while you can. It will do you no good in the end. I know your justice system inside and out. Even if you subject me to a trial I guarantee that I will be a free man in a matter of days.” Sir Ansel grinned. “You have no evidence to convict me with.” Yalen crossed his arms behind his back.

”That would seem to be the case wouldn’t it? Those girls you took in were always illegal immigrants. Not only did they lack documentation of their existence, but you could hire them right off the streets while skipping the formal paperwork. Though they always suspiciously disappeared from your household, you came up with some excuse about finding them proper housing and employment outside of the city. Somehow your gruesome activities only served to strengthen your… saintly image.” He shivered in revulsion.

”We caught your groundskeeper skulking around the animal farm last night. He was in the middle of cleaning after your latest mess when we snatched him up.” Yalen’s face grew dark with animosity. ”He confessed to everything as your accomplice, including the location of your hidden chambers. I couldn't tell if I was walking through a dungeon or a butcher's shop.”

Ansel’s jaw hardened, but he did not lose his cool. "With my connections I can easily cut my tail and pin all the crimes on him. You cannot prove anything in court. I will be a free man before long.”

”Indeed... I hate to admit that you cleaned up after yourself rather well. Other than the faint smell of blood there was little evidence remaining of your torture sessions. If I were to push a case forward you would likely be exonerated, just like you said.” Yalen patted the man’s cheek. ”But, I never said anything about staging a trial.” He looked at his fellow Somnian and nodded. ”Brother Pierce.”The man paced forward and assumed a position behind the captive nobleman.

”Victor Ansel. The Dark Somnians find you guilty of twenty-seven counts of kidnapping undocumented minors, twenty-seven counts of unlawful torture, twenty-three counts of murder with a bladed weapon, and four counts of manslaughter. We have been ordered to take you back to our sanctum for mental reconditioning.”

“Dark-” Sir Ansel’s voice was silenced when Yalen shoved the rope back between his teeth. The noble struggled against his restraints, and there was a spike of power as he attempted to draw energy into himself. However, the amount of energy he was able to gather was a pittance, not nearly enough to manifest magic into the world. Though he could not speak, the fear and confusion in the criminal’s eyes was clear.

”It’s plushtail oil.” Yalen opened his palm to show the lord of the house a metal dart. ”For the next few hours your magical aptitude will be no better than a child’s. Brother Pierce, please hold him still.” Victor Ansel was startled when the blonde priest suddenly jabbed his thumbs into the sides of his head.

”Getting stabbed hurts you know. You probably can’t imagine how terrified those girls felt in their last moments. If you could understand their pain then maybe you wouldn’t have killed them. Before we take you with us I will burn that agony into your brain.”

Without warning, Yalen’s magic suddenly surged.

”...One.”

Sir Ansel’s eyes widened, and he began thrashing around in his seat. His convulsions were suppressed by Yalen’s partner, who held the man’s chair down so that he wouldn’t tip over. The seizure lasted for nearly a minute, and when it was over the captive noble was slumped over in exhaustion. Yalen stopped channeling the spell to let him catch his breath.

”What you just felt was the sensation of a knife digging into your chest. It hurts doesn’t it?” Yalen explained. ”This is the pain that you have been callously inflicting upon innocent people. Doesn’t it feel horrible?” He channeled the spell once again. Ansel’s eyes searched the room frantically. He was too weak to use the gift, but he could feel Yalen’s power.

”Two.”

Even with the rope in his mouth, Sir Ansel’s anguished voice was audible enough to be heard just outside his bedroom. Unfortunately for him nobody was listening as his guards were taking a nap in their quarters, thanks to some clever chemical wizardry.

”Endure it Sir Ansel. Endure it with all your might. This won’t be over until you’ve felt the wounds of every single one of the girls you killed. Three.” The struggle session continued for about half an hour, during which the murderous noble lost consciousness several times. Each time he did, Yalen shocked him awake, giving him no respite from the mental assault. He wondered if this killer treated his victims the same way. Ansel’s desperate thrashing slowly abated until he finally became still, sobbing quietly in his seat. When Yalen was finished with him, his clothes were soaked through with sweat and urine, and his wrists were reddened in the place where he pulled against the restraints. Brother Pierce patted him on the shoulder with a heavy hand.

”You can rejoice, for it is over. For now.” He cut Victor Ansel loose and pulled him up roughly by the nape of his neck, causing the prisoner to flinch at the touch. The once proud nobleman was a shivering mess.

”Do not resent us for this, Sir Ansel. We want only the best for you. In the next world you will eventually find yourself crossing a valley of death. You will not eat. You will not sleep. What I have done to you will pale in comparison to the torment you will face there. If you want to have any hope of escaping that hell, you should try to comprehend the suffering of others and repent.”

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It was Vardes the 26th, and Yalen arrived at Balthazar Square bright and early. He had been busy ever since returning to the academy grounds a few days previous. His job gave him plenty to do even when school was in recess; because of the cover story fabricated for him by the Dark Somnians, he had to juggle double the amount of work of a normal clergyman. He was also in the midst of reorganizing his personal effects, as he had just received an unexpectedly daring proposition from his wife-to-be. It was finally time for them to try cohabitating, and there were various things to sort out before Yalen could properly move out of his dorm.

Ah, since she is a Tan-Zeno now, that means I will get to see her on stage. His heart swelled with happiness. Jocasta had tried hard to become a person he could be proud of, and her efforts finally bore fruit when she was invited to become a lecturer for the school. For her to trust others and be trusted in return, he could not see this happening a year ago. It took a great deal of heartache for her to come this far.

I have to try harder too. For both our sakes. Yalen pumped his fist silently. He observed the people milling about the square and noted how sparse their numbers were. It was mostly the second and third years who were arriving this early, having already completed the ceremony a year ago. He could already feel the yearlings arriving at the Parade Gate in twos. The Zenith would be standing atop the battlements ready to greet them yet again, just as she had when he was a freshman. Yalen could still remember his stomach cramping up with nervousness that day. It was his first time being around so many people at once. Would there be someone out there like him, a clueless country kid with no exposure to the outside world? Did other Tethered exist who were loved by their parents, and unburdened by the shackles of the refuge system? These were the thoughts that popped into his head when he imagined the fresh new faces attending the academy.

”Whatcha thinking about champ?“ A familiar voice broke through Yalen’s silent rumination. He was all smiles in an instant.

”Izzy!“ When he turned to look at her, Yalen was taken aback. Isabella had already shown an interest in eccentric fashion design, but her appearance quite frankly left him shocked. Rather than a dress, she had shown up to school wearing a rainbow colored leotard and a pair of dark linen hose. She wore a headdress that was full to bursting with monkeybird feathers, and golden bracelets around her wrists and ankles. It was like being greeted by a peacock.

”You like?“ Isabella twisted her upper body left and right.

”What in the world are you wearing?”

”I’m trying out some new fashion for Pelova Fascino. It’s not bad right?“

”Pelova… what?” Yalen’s eyebrow was raised in confusion.

”Oh. Duh.“ Isabella rapped her knuckles across her forehead. ”I guess I never told you. Some of our chums at school pitched in to renovate that smoking heap where the Emporium used to be. They wanted to start some kind of fashion line and asked me to take charge of development.“

”That sounds wonderful. Won’t your schooling be affected though?”

”Nah. I make the designs, I don’t stitch them up. Someone else makes the actual clothes.“ Isabella shrugged. ”How about you? Staying busy with anything?“

”Nothing much I suppose. I have a newly hatched dragon tearing up my furniture and a pair of sea goats living in my wash tub. I’ve also bought a piece of land in my hometown. Then there’s all the work I have to do for the church, and I have to sort out my new living arrangements this year.”

”New living arrangements eh? You finally thinking of flexing the Castel name and moving into the noble dormitories?“

”Not quite… I’ll actually be, uh, moving in with someone.” Yalen sheepishly looked the other way. Isabella was a smart cookie though. She picked up on the hidden meaning right away and gave her friend a good punch on the arm.

”Wow, look at you Yalen! Jo Jo will make you a proper house husband in no time!“ Isabella clapped her hands and let out a cheerful laugh. Yalen’s face grew red as a tomato. He endured Isabella’s lighthearted teasing for a few minutes, until finally the rumbling of a hundred students on horseback could be heard in the distance. Atop the battlements he could feel the presence of Zenith Upta and the other faculty moving along at a steady pace. Yalen smirked at the thought of Jocasta saving herself the trouble and simply teleporting over to the square, but ceremony was ceremony.

”The rest of our friends should be here soon I think. Let’s go save ourselves a spot up front!“ Suddenly, Isabella was surrounded by a cloud of static as she proceeded to float out of her wheelchair. Yalen looked up at her in awe.

”You can float!? …Hey, wait up!” Isabella didn’t hesitate to leave Yalen behind as she carried herself and her chair to the front of the gathering crowd. He hastily squeezed his way through the crowd while offering hasty apologies, earning himself a smack on the head from some lady’s purse on the way. Maybe he should have spent more time studying kinetic magic.

It was good to be back at Ersand'Enise.

The Hourglass Order

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Player Magic Specialization

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Start of Arc Four

❖ Yalen Castel: 2 1 2 4 0 0 0 0 0 2 0

Magnetic (+2) Arcane Binding (+1) Chemical (+1) Kinetic Atomic Blood Temporal Dark Command Primordial

Semester 1: Chemical, Magnetic
Semester 2: Binding, Magnetic
Mentorship: Dark Somnians