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Interlude

Tayla




Year 4256
2nd through 4th days of the month of Olfaccium

Thirsty... Tayla thought. So Thirsty...

Tayla banged weakly against one of the walls to her 'prison'. "Let me out!" She croaked. "Please!"

I'm sorry! She thought... or did she speak those words? It was getting hard to tell. So so sorry... But what again was supposed to be sorry for?

Hungry. Dehydrated. Delirious. Tayla had been chained to the floor in some lone room in the cellar. They held her captive, much like her good for nothing father had imprisoned her as a child. Except this time, she had no means of escape.

They hadn't fed her since locking her in this room, nor had they given her any water to drink. The later was of more consequence to her. For the fight with the white haired princess had already dehydrated her significantly. She had barely had enough time to rehydrate at all before getting thrown in here. She would have escaped then were it not for them pumping her with deterrents. Now though, lacking the water her magic required, Tayla found herself at the mercy of the clan's good grace.

"Please..." She whimpered. Her eyes closing in the darkness. "Someone..."




"She really is pathetic, isn't she?" A familiar voice said, waking Tayla from her slumber

"Smit?" She croaked. Senses, she was thirsty! She could feel her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth!

"Always depending on me yet never admitting to it."

"Smit... what?" Her mind fuzzy, Tayla creaked her eye open as much as she could muster. She felt so weak. So tired.

"Its worse than that." Another voice said. This one belonging to that white haired 'princess' "She refuses to let others in."

"You..." Tayla seemed growl. A bubble of hatred rising to the surface "Acting like you know me..."

"I think she does know you though." The voice of Smit said. His form seeming to materialize in the darkness. "Better than you know yourself."

"Shutup!" Tayla barked! Her cry seemed to grind at her vocal cords.

"Look at her coward in fear." The woman mocked. Her form materializing next to Smit's. "Always running, that girl is. She runs from me. She runs from you. Senses, she even runs from herself!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" Tayla screamed. She launched herself at the visions, stopping short due to the chain locked around her ankle.

The visions laughed. Not at Tayla, they seemed to be ignoring her. Rather they laughed among themselves.

"You know, I always knew she was a runner." Smit said. "Told her as much from the start."

"And look where all that running has got her." The white haired woman said. "Locked away, once again, in a closet. Chains wrapped around her ankles."

"I said shut up..." Her cry came out weak this time. She shut her eyes. Her body trembling.

"It seems you've come full circle."

That... that was her father's voice... She could help but take a look... Looming over her stood her father. He stared at her with those predatory eyes.

"No..." She whimpered. "Please no..." Her head was pounding. The world was spinning. In an instant her father vanished. His form replaced by Smit.

"You don't look so good." He said leaning over her form. "Here. Have some water."

Graciously. Tayla reached for the skin he held, but it was just out of reach. "Too far..." Her voice barely above a whisper. "Can't reach..."

The skin fell to the floor. It's contains spilling out red. Smit's form shimmered into the form of the white haired woman. The world bleeding black.

"Should have taken the water." The white haired women said. The darkness swooped in taking Tayla yet again.




Tayla awoke in coughing fit. She felt a cool liquid wetting her dirtied garments.

"Hush..." Said a dry sounding voice, trying its best to sound soothing. "Your punishment is over. Drink... You need the water..." Sightless Syella... She had come through for Tayla...

The Sightless held a cup of water in her hands. Slowly she brought it to Tayla's cracked lips. Tayla took the offering graciously. She drank the water faster than she probably should have.

"You came..." Tayla said having finished the offering. "I thought... you would leave me hear to rot."

"Course not." Syella said. "A mother does not leave her child to die."

Tayla nodded, taking the time to take in her surroundings. They were still in the cellar, but no longer in the room they locked her in. She hear the shuffling of feet towards the far wall. A group of Sightless had entered from a hidden passage built into the cellar wall. In their hands they carried rags with darkened stains.

Tayla furrowed her brow. "What... what's going on?"

"Nothing. Feeding time just finished is all." Sightless Syella said.

"Feeding... time?" Tayla repeating. Her mind still seemed muddled from her time in isolation.

"That's right." She said. "Come child. Let's go upstairs and get you some food."

"Food?" She asked, her stomach growled at the word.

"Yes." Syella say. "You're going to need it. Food and rest. We have battle coming our way and I'll need you at your best."

Tayla's mind struggled to keep up. "Where's Smit?" Tayla heard herself say

Syella almost seemed to frown. "He's... busy." She said hesitantly. "He been given a promotion actually. From now on Smit will be a squad leader. As for you? Well... Perhaps I was too hasty in stating that your punishment was over. From now on, Tayla, you will be taking orders from Smit."

The words hit Tayla like a rock. They had demoted her for her actions. Everything she worked for ruined in one fell swoop.
Interlude

Malkev




Year 4256
3nd day of the month of Olfaccium
Afternoon

"Look Uncle! I figured it out!"

Malkev's head perked up. Pulled out of his contemplative trance by his nephew's call. He looked up at his nephew. Watching as the boy turned to the underground lake and tossed one of the many smooth, flat rocks which were generously provided by the Kharu-Natjer. The rock skipped across the water's surface twice before plopping into the depths beneath.

The water stirred oddly. It's surface rippling towards the disturbance in the water instead of away from it. It was one of the many unsettling affects caused by the Distortion. His nephew, however, seemed unperturbed by unnatural motion of the ripples. The boy spun happily on his heels, beaming proudly at his uncle.

"See!" The boy exclaimed. "I told you I could figure it out on my own!"

“Aye lad, so you did.” Malkev said, forcing a smile on his face. “But can you get it to skip even more?”

The boy, Taleb, frowned. He bent over, picking up another rock from the pile. "Maybe." He said. He proceeded to toss the the rock against the water's surface. It skipped once before plummeting beneath the surface.

Malkev smile softly. That will give me a few more minutes. He thought while idly swatting at a fly which landed upon his shoulder. It buzzed in protest. Zipping in circles, it's surface appearing to glint in the crystal jade's green light. Eventually it settled on a far wall. In a place where it wouldn't bother anyone.

Malkev sighed. Taleb was ignorant of his father's passage. Ignorant of the hatred he should hold against his uncle. Malkev's entire world had flipped on its head in the matter of a week. How did things ever go so wrong?

“What I am going to do?” Malkev muttered under his breath.

"Sir?" One of his nearby personal guard asked.

“It's nothing.” Malkev said, waving the guard aside. The guard eyed him. Was that concern he saw in the man's eyes. His worry must be rubbing off on them

Malkev shook his head. The girl, Karina, was a way out. A way to potentially save his people from having to fight off the nation of Touch's soldiers, but it was only a temporary reprieve. She expected loyalty out of him. For him to put his people back in harm's way in a moment's notice. It seemed simple, but what else would they ask from him? Furthermore, what might they do to ensure that Malkev makes good on his promise?

Malkev looked Taleb, watching the as the boy tossed yet another stone across the water's surface.

That boy... He would hate Malkev one day. The moment he learned the reason for his father's death. For the time being he knew not that his father was even dead. But once he did... how long could Malkev keep the reason behind his death a secret.

Malkev had failed his brother. Failed him in the worst way possible. One day, Malkev would pay for his crimes. For now, however, the least Malkev could do was ensure the safety of his brother's son... Even if it meant putting his people on the front lines to some future war he didn't agree to...

"I did it!" Taleb exclaimed. "That's three skips now!"

Malkev smiled to his nephew. His mind now made up. He would agree to help Ms. Frost. In exchange, he would ask that she assure his family's safety.
Interlude
-Collab Between Pezz570 and JerkChicken-

Chres Sansus
DB, (A.K.A. Jen Gibre)


@Jerkchicken




Interlude
-Collab Between Pezz570 and HokumPocus-

Lynx
Sil


@HokumPocus




Interlude
-Collab Between Pezz570 and Fetzen-

Týfurkh
Chres Sansus


@fetzen




Interlude
-Collab Between Pezz570 and 13Org-

Karina Frost
Chres Sansus


@13org




Interlude
-Collab Between Pezz570 and 13Org-

Karina Frost


@13org



Plot Point

Meanwhile...



Year 4256
1st day of the month Olfaccium
Mid-Summer
Nation of Sight
East of Shimmer Town - Army of Touch Encampment

Da da da dum. Da da da dum. Da da da dum.

Viktor Frost, High General of Emperor Talissare's army, drummed his fingers on the side of his war table. Idly, he contemplated the message one of his foot soldiers relayed.

That code... it was Lieutenant Frost's code for sure... A reference to Viktor's favorite Opera... The girl had gone alone, and yet the voice had been a male's. A voice that had come from nowhere. Heard, by chance, from a few soldiers.

It was a curious situation. One that begged the question, was the message really from her or some sort of elaborate trick? Either way, one thing was clear. Karina's cover was blown.

"That girl..." Viktor grumbled under his breath.

Did Lieutenant Frost understand the trouble her actions had caused? A First Lieutenant on a scouting mission?! Her actions had not only sewn discord among the Company at her command, but it also gave the wrong message to her the scouts! Did the Lieutenant not think her scouts trained well enough to perform their duty? Or was she just growing bored of her position in the army?

Or is it worse? Viktor wondered. Is she trying to earn my approval? Well, this certainly wasn't the way for her to do it.

To be honest, Viktor didn't have the luxury to single out soldiers for praise, let alone play favorites with his own daughter. Karina was a soldier. As with any soldier, he expected her to act the part. Not go out on risky ventures such as this... Although, if her message could be trusted... If what the voice spoke was truth...

"You're dismissed, soldier." Viktor said, rising to his feet. The young lad saluted and left the war tent.

Viktor sighed. In many ways, this was a bad situation. Command in disarray. Officers questioning his judgment. His daughter a possible prisoner of war... On the flip side, if the Lieutenant truly had sent that message, then perhaps he had another way he could sabotage the town's defenses.

All communication from within the city had gone dark. His contact in the city had yet to respond to his negotiations for two days. Scouts entered the city, but they didn't leave. Viktor needed this city to fully cut off supply chains from the north. What he did not need was a drawn out siege.

Shimmer Town's lake provided the city with plenty of fresh water and food. He could use that same lake as route of attack, but that would require building boats and laying waste to the city. Not to mention all the lives he might lose.

No, Viktor would much prefer that the city open its doors to his army. Hence the negotiations he'd undertaken in trying to turn a member of the city's nobility. He had initially attempted negotiations with the lord of the city. Lord O’Kal. The man however had proven... uncommunicative. Viktor had then started making contact with other nobility, until finally he got a nibble.

Viktor rubbed his chin in thought. His face rough from his stubble of a beard. Silently he strode out of the tent. He needed fresh air to help sort through his thoughts.

The sounds of the army encampment surrounded him. Officers shouting out orders. The whine of restless horses eager to run. Foot soldiers laughing and shouting over early evening fires. Soothing sounds. Calming sounds.

Viktor wandered the camp, his hands clasped behind his backs. The soldiers he passed gave mixed reactions. The mainstay troops were better trained. They would solute at his passing, the higher ranking soldiers often giving him a nod of respect. The foot soldiers, however, was comprised mostly of peasants. The ones who recognized him would pay their respects with an awkward solutes, or a bow of the head. Others would gape in awe, point at Viktor while whispering to their comrades.

"That's him, I tell you!" He heard one of them whisper as he passed. "General Frost, The Mirage. The man single-handedly stopped the raids during The War of the Crazed!"

The War of the Crazed... That brought him back. It had been a long time since his excursion into Sensory Range. A five day campaign investigating reports of raids attacking supplies caravans from The Nation of Touch.

The story the man told wasn't entirely true. Viktor hadn't ended the raids all by himself... well, at least not towards the end...

His squad had been ambushed by the Crazed. The high ranking officers killed, while remaining troops were captured and scattered. Alone and with limited rations. Viktor had to take to guerrilla warfare in order to survive.

He used The Range's network of caves as a means of hiding. Striking from the shadows at opportune moments. One by one he rescued his fellow solders and freed caravans captured by the Crazed.

None of it would have worked were it not for his illusionary magic. It had been during this excursion Viktor had been forced to push his abilities to its limits. Viktor had secured The Range through trickery. By developing mass illusions imitating squads of troops. It was this technique which had earned him his title, The Mirage. A title that unfortunately would follow him to the end of his days.

Viktor frowned. His gaze forward. His strides steady. What to do about the girl? He wondered.

The Lieutenant had been insistent they gather intelligence on The Cult. Insistent that there was reason to be concerned about The Cult recent activity. Taken by rumors of their ability to see the future and the dark powers of the ones referred to as The Sightless. A tale they spun to attract the gullible, or so Viktor always believed.

The Cult had been around for ages trying to win people over to their Unseeing God. Pointing to The Distortion as proof his existence while ignoring the flaw in that claim. If The Distortion was the touch of their god, then why could he not create its effects elsewhere? The Distortion was an enigma for sure. An act of God? Perhaps a little far-fetched.

But if a Distortion has taken the city... What does one make if it then?

The thought worried Viktor. He had figured the Lieutenant's concerns unwarranted. In the end, Viktor had tossed The Cult's recent activity as nothing more than opportunistic. A chance to add a few more believers to their numbers.

The Cult were not the people Viktor had set out to go to war with, and quite honestly he would prefer it remain that way. A war against a belief was tricky. Whereas a war against a nation can be ended by toppling its king, a war against a religion does not end with the death of their leader.

"High General Frost." Said a familiar voice. "A word, if you please."

Viktor looked up. Somehow he had found his way back to his war tent. At its flap stood Colonel Raelar holding an odd bag the size of a small melon. He had not taken well to the girl's disappearance. Her Company was a part of his command. Viktor gave the man a curt nod as he passed him by.

"Colonel Raelar." Viktor said as they entered the tent. "What have you got for me?"

"A messenger was sent by King Y’lleant." Raelar said. The man had a cold look to him. He was not one to usually mince words.

"Oh?" Viktor said. "And where is this messenger now?"

"Chained to a pole. Under watch."

Viktor parsed his lips. His eyes wandered to the bag in Raelar's hand.

"Out with it then." He said.

Raelar opened the bag. A head rolled onto the ground.



Da da da dum. Da da da dum. Da da da dum.

Yet again, Viktor found himself drumming his fingers upon his war table. This time for a different reason. Queen Tallea was dead. The Emperor's sister was dead! This... this was not good. The Emperor would not be happy to learn about her death.

One thing at a time. Viktor told himself.

First thing first. He needed to secure Karina's safety. He could not stop the assault on Shimmer Town now, even if the girl's message spoke truth. However, he could relay the message to her. Prepare her for the inevitable.

He would send a squad of men in to seek her out. Colonel Raelar would disapprove. As far as he was concerned, the girl should be labeled a deserter and executed. Senses knows he wasn't the only one who thought that way.

The man wasn't wrong. The girl had deserted her post. However, she may also be their best bet in securing swift victory without a prolonged siege.

He was going to have to trust the girl on this one. It was something he was not happy to admit.
The Cult


@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation



Whack!

Tayla's vision blurred. Her body collapsing to the floor. She felt a warm liquid fill her mouth, but found it had no taste. The liquid ageusia had taken its toll. Her magic nullified.

Tayla struggled to get back to her feet but was quickly pushed back down. A foot pressing down against her back.

"Stubborn stubborn... She is quite stubborn..." Sightless to be De'laire said more to herself than anyone else. "

De'laire's foot pressed down harder causing Tayla to cry out.

"Should I hold back?" De'laire mused aloud. She reached down, grabbing Tayla by the hair. Slowly, she pulled her head back. Far enough to expose her neck. "Sightless Nieffar may scold me. He wouldn't like it if I damage her..."

Tayla gasped. Her battle from early had made her weak. Everytime she tried escaping, De'laire simply exerted more force. As things stood now, it was getting hard to breathe...

"De'laire!" Sightless Syella's voice... "What are you doing? Drop the knife! There will be no killing our own!"

"Hm?" De'laire hummed absently. "Sightless Syella? Forgive me, but have I done something to upset?"

"The knife, De'laire! Drop it! Now!"

"Knife?" De'laire asked with a tilt of the head. "Oh yes, yes... the knife. Mustn't kill the girl now... Sightless Nieffar would be most displeased."

Tayla heard a clang at her side as the knife hit the ground. The woman released her grip on Tayla's hair and relinquished some of the pressure on her back.

Tayla felt her blood still. Senses! She thought. De'laire had been about to kill me! Did the Crazed woman have any sanity left?

Yes... the woman did have some sanity left. After all, Tayla was still alive...

"What in the name of the Unseeing is going on here?!" Sightless Syella demanded.

"Punishment." Came a voice from the 2nd floor overlook. There Sightless Nieffar stood watching.

"Punishment? Death is no proper punishment for the acts she committed!" Sightless Syella exclaimed.

"Is it not?" De'laire asked absently. She had taken to scratching rigorously at the corner of her right eye. Her scratching drew blood. A sign that any day now this woman would be Sightless. Any day now she would feel the itch on her eyes...

"No, my dear De'laire. I fear Sightless Syella is correct. Does one kill a sister just for acting against the family, even if it is to satisfy her own selfish interests?"

De'laire merely shrugged. She had shifted to scratching at the corner of her other eye now. "Mine tried to kill me..." She said.

"And now she's dead." Nieffar stated. "The ultimate price for such transgressions. A price our little Tayla here does not yet deserve."

"Funny then how I needed to interfere." Sightless Syella spat.

"Sightless Syella," Nieffar continued. "I'm a man of practicality. I knew you would interfere, and so I let you interfere."

"Is that so." Syella replied. "Well forgive me Nieffar in not seeing the practically in your lack of actions. Were you simply saving your breath for later?"

"In a way, yes." Nieffar said. "Tayla's actions begets punishment. Our children died because of what she did. Her defense does not deserve any of my breath."

He made his way down the steps, his lips curving into a snide smile. The wounds on his legs must have mostly healed as Nieffar was no longer limping.

"But a Sightless ignoring commands coming from Sightless Vetius? That is a matter deserving of my breath."

Syella gave the man a leery gaze. For a moment the Sightless said nothing. Her gaze turning to Tayla. A frown of disapproval across her face.

Nieffar his approach approach stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Would you like to explain yourself to them?" Nieffar said quietly, nodding small crowd of clan members who had funneled into the chamber. They stopped at the entrance not quite sure what to make of the display.

"I'd rather you didn't." Nieffar continued. "As far as they're concerned, their friends died because the Pact Makers attacked us."

Syella folded her arms. Her frown deepening. "Let her up De'laire." Syella said at length.

"Hm?" De'laire hummed. Her gaze turned downwards. "Oh, yes yes! You're referring to the one beneath my foot, aren't you?"

De'laire took her foot off Tayla and stepped aside. All the while De'laire muttered to herself.

"Of course she meant that one." Tayla thought she heard the woman say. "Of course she did..."

Tayla rose to her feet and bowed her head appreciatively. Syella looked her over disapprovingly.

"I expect you to still be here when I get back. We will speak further once I'm done."

Tayla nodded and watched the two Sightless leave. She felt cold, and not just because her clothes were still damp from the rain.

'Why did you join the cult?' The white haired princess had asked.

Why? Because they had given her something she never had before. A place where she felt she belonged. A place where she people actually respected her.

Tayla made her way to a nearby bench, careful to tread lightly on her bruised foot. Tayla knew pain. She could deal with pain. The disappointment though... the disappointment and... Smit...

Smit... her heart felt heavy in her chest. Why? Why should should she feel bad about him? Tayla had known that this would happen sooner or later! She knew she couldn't trust the man. Who cares that he wouldn't meet her eyes! Who cares if he sold her out!

Of course he sold her out. That was the sort of thing any sensible person would do. He didn't owe her an explanation. But then why? ... Why did it hurt so much?

Tayla saw the white haired princess. She stood there, like a shadow. The woman's image loomed over her.

'Why did you join the cult?'

"I hate you." Tayla whispered. Now, more than ever, she needed this woman to hate.

'Why did you join the cult?' She said yet again.

Talya curled her legs up onto the bench and buried her face in her arms. She hated the woman. Hated that the woman pretended to care.



"You're playing a dangerous game Syella." Nieffar said, a smug smile across his face. "Sending that reckless girl on a mission which as far as I can tell served no further purpose other than to give the enemy further intel on ways to fight us. You cost us believers, Syella. Sightless Vetius will be displeased."

"Why is it that you find me so intimidating, Nieffar?" Sightless Syella asked. "Is it because the followers I brought respect me while yours fear you?"

Nieffar's eye twitched at her words. However, he quickly smothered his irritation. "Syella, Syella. You don't intimidate me. I would just like to know why you feel it necessary to put this entire mission at risk. Just what exactly were you trying to achieve with all of this?"

Syella frowned, eyeing the man. "You may have been give charge over the task of converting this city, but does not mean you are privy to everything that I do." She replied.

Nieffar's expression darkened. His smile turning to a frown. "You," He said elongating his annunciation, "don't get to talk back to-"

"Would you rather I leave?" Syella continued, standing her ground. "Leave you one experienced Sightless fewer?"

The words angered Nieffar. Syella could hear the man grinding his teeth.

"They will follow me, you know? The ones I've brought over to the Insight."

"There are plenty more people in the city to fill in their ranks." Nieffar growled.

"Ah, so there are." Syella agreed. "Do you think they will turn on you too?"

Nieffar's good arm lurched. His fingers extending into sharpened tendrils ever so slightly. The Sightless stopped himself, however. He was far too aware of how a Sightless attacking one of his own would look to any onlookers.

"You know, just as well as I, that the people who attacked us weren't normal." He said.

"No, they won't." Syella agreed. "Someone planted those people in our ranks. People easy for us to overlook. Such a thing is dangerous." She did find it odd how their life essence appeared so dim. "We can't be at each other's throat with enemies like that around."

Nieffar said nothing. His angered expression turning to frustration. He knew he couldn't have her as an enemy right now, and that infuriated him.

"Someone needs to take the fall for this." Nieffar said through gritted teeth.

Syella remained quiet. She knew what this meant. It was an eventuality she had anticipated when assigning this task to Tayla.

"You're right of course." She said quietly. "Others may think the pact makers attacked us first, but the people who went with Tayla know better. We will need to put the blame for this incident on her. This way we can justify the lie."

Nieffar nodded. "Confinement." He said. Syella's expression turned grim. "We'll lock her up for a few days... Give her time to think about what she's done."



The cult had a ceremony of sorts that night. A ceremony that drew much of the people in town. They had food there. Food for anyone who would stay and listen to the cult's preaching.

Many played along. After all, how else would they eat? Others, however, they actually listened. At the end of the ceremony people were invited into the the Cult's makeshift church.

Those that entered join the cult's cause. Some did it out of curiosity. Others did joined for the food. Regardless of their reasons, there was one thing none of the new recruits could deny. The Cult's God had a visible presence in the world. One far more obvious than the Lord of Senses.
Chres Sansus


@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation


Chres blinked. Looking up he met Karina's gaze. Funny, he hadn't noticed her approach. Must have gotten far too caught up in his own thoughts.

He nodded at her word while doing his best to give a warm smile. "She says she's gone away" Chres said. "Can't come back until she knows, whatever that means."

Shifting in his seat, one hand rumaging through his pocket, the other putting his empty plate off to the side. "She's a funny one, isn't she? Always doing whatever comes to mind..."

From his pocket Chres pulled out a small object between his thumb and forefinger. It glittered in the light. "They are... people, you know? That's something I often forget with her... Perhaps that's why she left..." Chres continued.

The object was oval and flat. Transparent like glass and yet as sturdy steel. Its glittering appearence caused by reflective specks of silver embedded within. Metal glass. Rare. Beautiful. Chres held the metal glass up to the light causing the surface to gleam.

'One for you, and one for me.' His wife had told him. Neither Chres nor his wife, had shown interest in wanting a familiar.

"Why then?" Chres said. His voice almost a whisper.

Chres closed his hand around the metal glass, one last time, before gentlely placing it on the nearby stand.

"Thank you, Karina." He said smiling. "I know you tried. I doubt that neither you nor I could have stopped her."

Nodding to her, he slowly rose from his chair.

"I'll find her tomorrow. One way or another." Chres said. "Do what you will with the metal glass. Senses knows it's only been weighing me down."

Despite his words, Chres somehow felt a weight much heavier than the one he just let go. These next few days would be long ones, he knew. Long and restless.

As always Chres slept lightly that night. His dreams plagued with horror and guilt.
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