The Azure Citadel

[Elise]

Elise watched the television monitors idly as another rainstorm passed through the grimy skyline of Markov. She and Izaneus had been haunting the guest lobby of The Triskele Hotel for two weeks now, gaining information on their upcoming adventure and waiting for applicants to show up. The vampire was checking for updates on her Karl's List ad for adventuring help every hour.

Every hour, she had to frown at Izaneus and shake her head, causing the living mage to sigh and resume staring out the window. The passing air traffic hummed and thundered distantly through the plasteel plate window, adding a constant bassline to accentuate cheery, gibbering pedestrians filing in and out of the upscale hotel. Greenstripes wiggled impatiently in her lap, and she stroked the terratopus's mantle idly.

There wasn't much for Izaneus and her to say, really, at this point. All they needed was at least one more hand to help them secure the Lore Shards that Hammuzi had sent them after.

Someone had to bite soon, right?

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

As the rain pattered against the frigid windows, Izaneus found his aching mind drifting through different thoughts, as though he himself was on a journey, despite sitting stationary on his rather comfortable seat. He sighed as he watched the different drops of water fall. Accompanied only by the sound of guests entering and leaving, alongside the separate sounds of storm and steel. The youngest Phortea found his mind flickering to and fro his most recent events, failing yet another apprentice, the one that haunted him most powerfully.

A flurry of emotions raged at him constantly, for every minute he stood idle he could feel himself losing control. So he busied himself with studying new formulae, devising new strategies against that devilish artificer, and imagining tearing him apart piece by piece until there was nothing more to destroy. He did his best to stay in control, understanding that with rage came predictability, But he couldn't help it. As soon as he thought about that smarmy, arrogant, POMPOUS-

He took a deep, shaky breath, tapping his foot against the floor anxiously. Doing his best to not imagine the pleasure of ending the draconic fool as slowly as he possibly could. He tried to instead think of the serene possibilities of spellcraft, Ideas that he'd been too busy or otherwise depressed to actually work out.

The first was a spell of flight, simple, but extraordinarily useful. He'd also been meaning to try his hand at enchantments of the mind. Perhaps he could devise a certain way to avoid Hammuzi's idiotic dance number. he doubted it, given the years of experience between them, but he was supposed to be "Prodigious" Wasn't he?

So many things happened in the span of just a few days it was difficult to accurately process, but Izaneus could definitely feel each of their influences.

The first, obviously, was Rean's capture, which was entirely Izaneus's fault, not only had he been subjected to traumatic circumstances, but he'd also been made to kill. The effects on his magic aside, The first thing he would do....

Izaneus came up on a blank on that front.

What would he do once he got Rean back? March him back to his parents and offer his own head on a platter? Mutter innumerable apologies in hopes he didn't entirely ruin the boy's childhood? He had no right.

These problems clumped themselves into a spear which kept poking, and prodding at the Wizards heart, begging, demanding. He get angry, he fight back, he face this problem head on like a true Heir should.

He nearly scoffed as those thoughts crept past him. Could he truly call himself an Heir of the Phortean name? For another matter, did he even give a shit?? He'd left his generational home, and he was sure as hell not returning. So why didn't he just drop the facade and stop caring already.

Swarms of mental vitriol entered and exited his thoughts in waves of darkness, and droves of constant self insults like a symphony of vivid darkness that plagued his mind like they plagued his heart. Relentlessly, and without end. Every once in a while, his self-hatred would instead turn into guilt, and fear. But even more rarely were points of emotional and mental clarity, Where he could think, and be himself... Whoever that was.

This whole ordeal made him realize just how confused he truly was of himself, sometimes it felt like he was just reacting to the multitude of improbable misfortunes that occurred around him. How was he supposed to know who he is when he didn't know enough about himself to tell to others?

His only solace was being here, on Cevanti. His first actual time away from Nona, not counting the abyss, which he didn't. For a plethora of reasons.

However, this was another point of focus, One he'd reflected on greatly, he was off of his home world. It felt... horrible, honestly. For the first time he genuinely felt homesick, as if nothing could make him feel worse. He stared downward, his thoughts thankfully not in a flux of negative downpour. A small moment of brief solace from himself.

Nona had always been his home, the only place he'd actually set foot on, and around. The only place he traveled. Cevanti was... so far away. It never occurred to him to leave, strangely, as powerfully as his thoughts and feelings invaded him. His problems felt so far away. He reckoned this was the only reason he was able to keep some form of a composure as he waited the hours out.

He turned his head to Elise, a powerful practitioner of magic, he wasn't afraid to say she was his superior in that regard, as it stood. she was. He'd spent so long simply sulking and feeling bad for himself while she'd been pushing forward, as painful as it might've been.

His voice moved before his mind, thankfully.

" Elise?" He asked, in a monotone sort of voice. " Sup?" The vampire responded, not really paying attention. Keeping an eye on their current "Party" Situation. checking for any interested to join them on their "quest".

Iza suddenly found his lips clamped shut, unable to open without great force. So he put great effort into speaking his next words.

"What was it like? Leaving your home, and your parents?"

The vampire tensed, silent, for but a moment, before blinking away the memories of her former parentage. Returning to her former facade.

"Nothin' special I s'pose, just kinda....normal, I guess" She spoke, loosely avoiding the question. " Normal?" Izaneus repeated softly, now intrigued, but quite understanding he was treading thin ice.

She took a deep breath, seemingly annoyed. " Listen, I know you're meanin' well and all but ya' should shu-"

"My mother used me... When I was ten, I was sent to Arkadia. But I was brought back as soon as graduation ended. I was made to perform arcane services for anyone with the right coin... It didn't take long before Shiki simply told me to bolt.. Which was when I joined Dante's Abyss.." Izaneus interrupted, causing the undead mage to pause for a moment.

Elise normally would have skewered him with a glare, or worse. But she allowed him to continue, for one reason or another.
" Yet despite that, even on the comet, I didn't feel as... homesick, as I do now. It's a longing for a place I'm not entirely sure I can turn to anymore.." He started, his eyes drilling holes into the floor.

" I figured if anyone, you'd understand what that's like.." Izaneus finished, after a slight pause, looking up into his compatriots eyes, showing vulnerability in his own.

She stared at him for a moment, before shrugging, and leaning back once more. " Yeh, not really sure about the homesick thing. But.." She began, taking a deep breath, before exhaling with her next few words. " Definitely know whatcha mean there.."

A moment of silence hung heavily in the guest lobby, which could be cut with a knife, instead shred by Elise's voice.

"Pretty similar to your's actually. Parents weren't fun, gotta have a mage they said, so off to Arkadia I went." The memories flashed vividly in her eyes, lucky she had 'em closed. Didn't really want Izzy pokin' around where he wasn't wanted.

" Not long 'fore they couldn't keep up with me, bein' who I am" She quipped, stretching a touch, before placing her hands behind her head, and sighing as she relaxed slightly, Or, appearing to, at least. " So.. I just left. Better to use my talents elsewhere right? But... yeah, moral of the story is that I get what your sayin, and if you don't mind, I'd liketa leave it there."

Just like that the empty silence returned, save only for the rain, on those frigid windows.

Izaneus laid his forehead against the cool glass, and sighed, doing his best to retain his tears. Now one thought plaguing him instead of the hundreds. Though it might as well have been.

"Why did everything have to become so massively fucked?"

 

[Gildarts]

Spoiler

Within the walls of some no-name hotel, Gildarts had lingered too long within the lines. His mind was pounding, demanding to be let outside the walls of the cage that was the room he’d abused.

The brown iris of his eye drifted past his left cheek. A mop of luscious hair lay amid a tangle of sheets. The mage sat up, heaving his torso upward and propping himself up on his good arm. Separating himself from her same horizontal reality. He drank in another breath for life. The thought occurred to him.

He had not returned to the land of the living for this, although… She had been quite nice.

The battlemage’s eyes dribbled across the room, from the debris that clung from the crumbling walls, there was no longer any sheetrock left around the bedframe’s edges. The innards of the wall, hollow as flecks of white paint layered like snow on the carpet. Bottles of wine, something she had been a particularly exquisite expert in, littered at every angle of sight. Pressed as holes into the walls, hanging amid a tassel of a curtain, evidence of drink leaking into their bed amid stains of maroon pink.

Frayed candle wicks surrounded by the last globs of cooled wax left the last evidence of the final traces light of that had been licked out. His eyes lingered on the pieces of furniture that were mere amalgamations of what they once were. Clumps of fabric under crumpled frames. The glow of a still-lit lamp was surrounded by its off-kilter shade.

The image of his marred reality caused that same observant eye to twitch. He gazed down at his hands, procuring his second, a skeleton covered in rust. He felt the magic as it continued to gush through the air past his fingertips. A bit of a growl began to form in his throat.

The scruffed man bit his lip hoping to distract from the distaste for what he had become on his tongue. The sensation could not pull him from the room, from the headspace of his mind. It would not allow him to escape himself. A press of warm blood formed under his firm teeth.

The new coppery flavor served as a reminder for him to release. He unlocked his jaw and exhaled the tension from his body as that of his mind began to rise. Unable to call his intuition to answer his most important question.

Gildarts rose. His mind aimless as his body followed a routine he only registered through sound: The hissing spray of the steaming shower, the near-soundless pop of suds against his skin, the gentle crunch of a light shave that would last only a moment before stubble grew again.

The partially fogged mirror reflected his reality back to him. His eyes fell on his usual self. Sharp jawline, attractive cheekbones peppered in stubble. The newly snow colored hair made his brown eyes even more distinctive. Accentuated every withered feature with a new layer of age.

Still, the charismatic mage carried confidence that made him immaculately resplendent to the ladies. A natural glow of literal magic. Turned into a hue like glowing sweat on his brow, an aura carried around like joy…

Yet this middle-aged man staring back at him had… None.

His eyes lingered as far as the torso-level mirror would take him. Fingertips of his right hand ran along the carved out old wounds of his past. Scars that held the stories of the battles before. Pain that had been taken and never given anything in return but the hollow caress of victory.

The rust connecting his shoulder matched that which latched beneath his knee. He considered the eroded metal. The new lifeless shade of his luminescent hair. The creature in the mirror surely… Wasn’t who he remembered himself to be.

Who had done this to him?

Who had taken the years from his life? Placed him in a shallow grave in the earth that he’d had to dig himself out of?

Gildarts parted his lips as he felt a hopeless frown arise on his furrowed brows.

Who had he become?

The question lingered on his mind as the reflection of himself remained in the moments as he walked past the bathroom’s mirror.

His hair was ghostly, narrating the brittle shell he felt himself to be.

His chin rested close to his chest as he looked glumly at the ground, each step creaking with the squeak of aged metal. He felt like an obsolete machine. His own objective, his own purpose… No longer written in his own soul.

Another shriek of metal sounded through the room as his left hand mindlessly reached for his last garment. He’d put himself together. Yet felt no sense of completeness. In fact, he felt a numb omission of emotion. Unable to garner even a smile at the memories made in this room.

The soft collapse of fabric as it wooshed in a sash over his shoulder. His usual cape, the one that left his torso open. Astoundingly, wearing a shirt still hurt.

“Gillia…” A feminine coo arose from the bed they’d spent the last week in. “Ritorna da me… Won’t you?”

A wince that enveloped every piece of his skin. Gildarts felt an ache deeper than any wound had carved out of him, and they’d gotten a few organs as well as his right arm and opposing leg.

Expectation laden upon him. He needed to bid this part of himself goodbye, too. The self he hated, because it was all too easy for him to become.

His trajectory toward the door veered instead toward the bed, as he knelt on one knee beside her. The prickle of his skin against her ear as he whispered a farewell. “Mi fa davvero male. Ma temo di dover dare il mio ultimo addio a una rosa così bella.”

She spoke only Italian, you see. It had initially made getting to know her all the more fun.

The glitter of cubed magic illuminated the dim room. The bloom of a single rose was left on his empty pillow. Something brightly beautiful, to fill the hollowness of solitude she would eventually wake up to.

Wordless show of affection. An… Easier goodbye. Or so he would often tell himself.

The door closed behind him for the final time. Touching the echo of memory as he untwisted the handle as he reminisced at the memory of the room, once bubbling exchange of laughter was now pure silence.

Leaving behind a room empty of that shared joy.

It was easy to forget in those times, that same room was that of his heart. Dismal and always alone. Temporary fun wasn’t even fun. It was just temporary.

Not too far from illusion. Serving a purpose of distraction.

The brush of a small form ran past him, screaming new rattles of laughter.

No, that was not her. He was not there. Kidnapped from life to life. Somehow he’d been dropped here.

It was time to find out why.

Again and again.

The burden burned on his shoulders with a new weight as he stifled some pitiful laughter. To him, that was living.

Every time this happened, he never wanted to come back. But… There was always someone who needed protecting. And he always found himself shouldering the same role.

His eyes lingered down the now open hallway. Someone would take the place of Cana, who was a world away. Or worse… He gulped as he remembered the weight of her in his arms that one final time. A feeling of loss he’d worked to forget, to no avail.

His home, his guild, his heart… All ripped from him.

The lone tattoo on his chest remained the only physical reminder he was ever part of something bigger than himself. Memories clattered like rain against his mind. Or maybe it was the rain outside the window at the end of the hall.

He congratulated himself for finding another burdening thought to carry by pressing onward though he found himself pausing in as he looked at the ceiling that was only a few inches taller than him. His eyes crawled the walls as his own lumbering steps carried him to the elevator with dismantled metal walls and down to the lobby of this… Establishment.

Brown eyes raised to the windows revealing the sculptures of man made architecture beyond. The sky imparted upon by the rigid looming buildings that crawled toward the sky. This was far from his natural environment but he’d needed to find answers. This is where that quest had taken him thus far.

His eyes sighted a hotel liaison. “Oi,” His low tone rubbed the serrated flesh of his throat, “This is gonna sound odd but… Well,” Gildarts brandished a devilish smile as the idea formed in his mind. This is how it always happened. Somehow, something guided him to where he was meant to be. Time often enough tended to grant him a worthwhile journey.

“Have you seen… Anything strange the last few days?” Gildarts felt the tilt of his head, inquisition in the subtleties of his ridged brow as his eyes fixed on the concierge.

The mage’s fingertips pulled him back to the word etched in his tombstone of wood. They wrote out Stranger. He had wanted to know why the footsteps that led away had been the same size as his own. The answer was as evasive as a shadow against the light of the sun, yet, the curiosity piqued within him left him with a chill.

The man looked away from Gil’s chiseled features in careful consideration. “Strange? Particularly not. Notable? Why… Just over there.” A finger pointed directly over at two individuals. His brown eyes followed the index’s direction. “They’ve been there for about two weeks. Not strange, we get visitors who stay all different lengths. The only notable part is that… They don’t seem to do much other than wait.”

Gildarts blinked. “They… Wait?”

“Yep.”

“What are they waiting for?”

“I don’t know, the scary-looking one keeps me from asking.” The man said, granting the hotel guest a little too much honesty.

“Scary-looking?” The mage mused, casting a longer glance at the duo, the youth had no particularly threatening features, so surely the concierge meant the woman with the hardened eyes. “You think she’s scary and not me?”

“You’ve got an approachable way about you, I suppose.” Hospitality responded again.

“Hm.” Gildarts grunted in response, not particularly displeased. He was aware of the certain… Charm that tended to cast when he needed it to. But, even his enemies tended to appreciate his vigor in battle. Relishing even more when they fell into the encapsulating exchanging of blows. Magic had its ways, he supposed. “Well, thank you. Though…” Gildarts added a wink, “You probably should be.”

The man sauntered off inconsequentially, leaving the concierge with a confused expression. Now on the move, Gildarts recalled how a single sneeze of his had brought down cities like this. He preferred the open wild to this, for that singular reason. Even the room of his stay had shown evidence of this, despite his hardest efforts.

Now he approached the pair of strangers. After all, what could go wrong with a little conversation?

Gildarts placed a casual expression on his face and as he grew closer, his expression narrowed ever so slightly as he sighted the younger one. Not the fierce woman, but the youth. Reminded the old ace of his former protege. An intrigue that would not easily loosen from the man.

“Pleasant day we’re having.” Gildarts said coolly.

“What do you find so pleasant about Cevanti?” Elise echoed.

“Oh. Is that where we are?” Gildarts offered a shrug of his lips. He was always, and would forever be, quite oblivious at all times.

“You here for the quest?” the blond male intercepted.

Quest? Gildarts internally gaped in surprise at the old fashioned word. Perhaps the old ways of guilds were returning, even to places like this. Ironically, the two youths compared to the veteran appeared as though they could’ve been guildmates.

“...Yes.” Gildarts said casually, the hesitation notable but not enough to quite hint that he had no idea what this was about.

“Very well.” Elise’s brows raised as she looked at the old man’s tattered clothes and lack of a shirt. Even so, he was the first person in their time of waiting who had even nibbled at the hook they’d cast. She inquired about his skillset, needing to know if he could perform the tasks at hand. She cut to the point, “What can you do?”

“Well, I’m an S-class wizard and gravity magic wielder.” Gildarts said as though they knew what rank S was. A quizzical expression formed on his face, “I can deconstruct anything in sight. I’d show you but it can get particularly messy if I’m not careful.”

Either of the two might’ve vaguely recognized his abilities from the recent whispers about… Occurrences of a destructive force without a source. Just that some parts of an underground system had fallen in on itself in a clatter of tiny little precise cubes. Or maybe they’d seen his younger face on the previous year’s most popular show, run by Karl Jak of course.

Elise looked far from sold, business in the streets ran best when people knew how to sell themselves. Competent people knew how. This man had done a poor job of it. He lacked adequate presentation, he lacked adequate clothes. His presumed bluff had fallen short of impressive due to his excuse of not being able to cast? If he could not deliver, or control his skill, they did not want him.

However, a thorn remained in her mind. Something about gravity magic stirred against both her and the blond beside her.

The three mages exchanged a keen glance, all recognizing a similar magical sense within one another. Anyone other than Gildarts would’ve seen she was a vampire at first glance. To him, she was just another future apprentice.

Meanwhile, Gildarts could see the deliberation in her eyes and he could see he was failing. “Youngbloods like yourself could use someone a little more seasoned, someone who maybe, has seen a few more decades of battle.”

Elise suppressed a smirk at that. Her eyes gleaned the rust of his limbs. It seemed he had seen many ages of battle. He may as well have been ancient. She was likely wondering if he had won the battle that he’d lost his limbs over.

Gildarts continued to add, noting the way her eyes cast over his… Tarnished rust. “Or… At the very least I could teach you both a thing or two about combat magic. Don’t the young magic users want to learn from their elders anymore? I can assure both of you, you have a thing or two to learn.”

The middle-aged man’s expression went from casually aloof to one igniting with a serious challenge. The glint of ferocity narrowed in the lines of age around his eyes.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, Gildarts confidently extended his rusted hand to the vampire, as a show of hospitality. Surely, she could sense how the magic moved beyond the vacant flesh of his shoulder yet incorporated in the same code and netted together moving the rattly limb.

The motion signifying that he was done having to prove himself. Knowing what they knew now. They either wanted him or they didn't. He had more confidence than he did patience for this type of thing, Thus his presentation of a handshake, "You can call me Gildarts."

 

[Elise]

"Gildarts huh..." Elise said slowly, giving the grizzled man another looking over. Her simmering red eyes narrowed slightly, and she waved her hand dismissively.

"No dice. Thanks for your interest." she sniffed, before sitting down again. Gildarts' mouth fell open slightly, and his eyes took on a blank affectation of shock. Was that for real? He couldn't remember the last time he had been shut down so hard. Izaneus was also similarly aghast, and it took a considerable amount of restraint to avoid blurting out something childish.

"W...wha? Why not?" Gildarts stammered, trying to regain his composure. Elise shrugged, and flirted her fingers along the hem of her cloak. Eventually the silence grew long enough to irritate the shirtless mage, and he turned around with a swish of his cape.

"Fine. Suit yourself." he said, shrugging widely.

"Wait!" Izaneus blurted, standing. Elise scowled up at him, but he paid no attention to her.

"She's...not in charge here! I say he should come with us." he said firmly. Elise bared a sharp-toothed sneer at him, but it was somehow hard to take the vampire seriously when she was lounging on grey-beige hotel furniture next to a stack of complimentary granola bars. Her mouth made a few angry shapes, choking down the usual bitch-factor, until she finally managed a single, seething syllable.

"Why?" she asked, gesturing at him. Izaneus tilted his head in confusion, and suddenly realized that perhaps Elise was more superficial than he had initially realized. He thought about himself, and the interest she had taken in him; a clean-cut mage from royal stock, but of somewhat middling skill. Here was, allegedly, a high-ranking wizard of some kind, powerful enough to detonate houses...but he was dressed like a thespian down on his luck. No. It was time for him to put his foot down.

"Because we're not dealing with the schemes of not just one, but two extremely powerful dragons, and-" Izaneus began to rant, when he felt a cold, steel hand on his shoulder. He looked around and saw a strange, new focus gleaming in the shabby wizard's eyes.

"Dragons?" Gildarts said with a grim inflection. "You didn't say...this was about dragons."

He was silent for another moment, then closed his eyes with a nod.

"I'm going with you on this quest." Gildarts said, opening his eyes and nodding again.

"But-!" Elise protested."

"He's going with us on this quest." Izaneus agreed, grinning back at their new ally. The vampire pinched her nose with a sigh, and glanced over at the two looming familiars, sitting in the fountain of the lobby. Greenstripes flashed a purple-yellow of firm agreement. Euphemia croaked a single corvid noise of approval.

"Fine. But if he blows up the Lore Shards before we can get them back to Hammuzi, it's on you." Elise said, pointing a condemning finger at the nobleman.

"Alright then!" Gildarts said, slapping Izaneus on the shoulder with his metal palm. The boy did his best not to betray how painful it was.

"...Are either of you hungry? I could eat a dragon right now." the crash wizard asked with a grin.

"..." Elise said, looking at Izzy expectantly.

 

[Cyrus]

Edos looked up at the waiter expectantly, and tried his best attempt at a smile.

Baring his fangs in just the right way as to broadcast kindness took herculean effort: his muzzle was a shredded and pocked landscape of old scars that wound across his velvetty white fur like erratic lightning bolts. He found that if he lifted his whiskers, and showed only the middles of his fangs by stiffening his bottom lip, he was able to at least make it apparent that he was trying to smile. And oftentimes, that went a long way with humans.

The human in question couldn't help but recoil slightly at the leonin's ferociously awkward visage. "Yes, sir, all of our meat is frozen in transit before we cook it, but I assure you that our chefs are truly artists, and---"

"Aaaah, it's not the same!" The feline man yowled lowly to himself, dropping all pretense at geniality. Now he was just plain grumpy, and he made it apparent as he scowled down at the thin sheath of paper between his thick pawpads.

"Just get me a beer," he arrived after some long, ponderous examining of the menu, "and a burger."

"Sure, how would you like it do--" the waiter started to ask, but knew better when the leonin's pale yellow eyes darted up to stare him in the face with quick annoyance. "Black and blue, got it. I mean, yes sir. I mean..shortly, sir. Thank you."

Babbling and shaking his head, the waiter brisked himself away stiffly, and Edos the Barbarian was alone with his thoughts. Among the coming and going of hotel guests, he was all the more alarming to observe when alone: seven foot something of pure rippling muscle beneath a short white pelt, split errantly by more scars. He wasn't old, exactly: If an age had to be assigned, he'd probably be in his mid to late thirties, and still very much in his prime. The man had pecs and abs that could cut diamonds, and his leather battle skirt, heavy bow, and wicked looking curved sword made him look prepared for a fight at any moment.

Edos was not a brawler, though, he was a hunter: Surviving on Cevanti meant he had to be. He thought about survival as he waited for his frozen, never-fresh burger. His last few jobs had paid well enough that he wanted to treat himself to a fancy dinner, but he found that fancy meant unpalatably faux when all he really wanted was something awful and bloody and hunted with his own two paws. He sighed -- The last few jobs had been well paying, but with money came a certain detachedness from the work that was making him feel a little blue. Well, as blue as a massive lion could be.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

Magecraft, the understanding of Arcanum, and the ability to bend it to your will. The power of the Arcane and magical is a coveted ability. Few are able to wield it with finesse, fewer still are able to conjure it in ways that the three who currently sat together were able. These individuals, with enough time, preparation, and power, would be able to wreak no small amount of havoc, and chaos.

These three, who are able to conjure the Arcane with such finesse,and power, currently went about one of the most important events of the day.

Lunch.

A large sigh of relief came from the larger of the three, as he downed his fourth drink since they’d arrived at the hotel restaurant they’d arrived at. “ That really hits the spot!” He bellowed, laughing a touch as his stomach filled. With what it could.

Gildarts took a moment, as he did this, to better inspect his now affirmed employers. One was incredibly steadfast, potentially to the point of stubbornness, but he sensed she had reasons. Even if they weren’t the most amicable. The other held about him an air of uncertainty. Unconfidence. He seemed as though he knew when to put his foot down however. Together, he could sense that they were clearly an efficient team. Add his own power to the mix? Gildarts couldn’t help but smirk.

Across from him, Izaneus quietly dined on his own meal, a pasta made delightfully savory. feeding a couple of pieces o'meat to Euphemia, who sat perched on his shoulder, he wasn’t happy to be paying for the meal, but he figured it was a small price to pay to alleviate Elise of some of the frustration likely accrued from Izaneus’s earlier display of defiance. He sometimes felt as though he was the only voice of reason, but he knew this to be untrue. With what he’d learned of her, she was experienced, and practical. Though she sometimes let her emotions consume her. Something he couldn’t blame her for.

It was entirely too difficult to keep one’s heart in line when it was abound with rage.

Izaneus was thrown from his thoughts when Gildarts cleared his throat.

“ So, tell me more about this job. Anything special I should know about those dragons you mentioned earlier?” Suddenly the Wizard’s face turned grimly serious as he spoke of draconic beings. Which Izaneus picked up on immediately.

The two employers in question exchanged a knowing glance. Then, Elise spoke. “ Deets’ll be given as they’re needed. For now all ya need to know is that we’re delving for important stuff here, and if it’s damaged in any way, for any reason, it’s comin’ outta your pay.” the Vampire spoke with finality. Which Izaneus at least could agree with. If anything happened to those shards.. It would be Rean’s head on the line…

Something he could not allow.

Gildarts sighed, well, he would’ve hoped they’d be more direct in information, but it seemed the most he was getting at the moment was that they were dealing with some form of draconic duo.

Which was frankly more than enough for him.

Nearby, a certain hunter hungrily devoured his burger, practically whole, as the three mages conversed in matters of coin and jobs that needed doing. Now, Edos normally kept a tab on things that needed doing, so it was quite natural that the Leonin’s ears perked upward in response to the growing talk of Dragons, excitement, and Coin.

Quickly grabbing his unfinished beer, and finishing it he stood, though the.. Octopus? Turned toward him briefly, before going about its own business. A brief thought of “Octopus?” Crossed his mind as he moved from his table, striding over to the table of talk and jobs he hoped to take part in.

It was here he first made his presence known.

“Greetings!!” He bellowed loudly, standing a good height over the sitting Wizards, who each turned to look at the most recent disturbance. “ I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve got something exciting in the works! I’m here to say I want in!”

Almost immediately did Elise shoot her “partner” a deathly stare, which he returned with his own steadfast look.

An Audible groan echoed outward from her position, causing the newcomer to briefly raise an eyebrow. Did he somehow cause offense?

“What kinda stuff can ya do?” She asked, half-invested in the answer. Causing Edos to smirk as he replied. With a species that held a smile and a growl in similar expression, it was difficult to tell which was which, but all three were at least able to tell he was being Jovial as he spoke his next words.

“Dragon or Man, I’ll have you know they’ll all fall before me!” He exclaimed, rather loudly. “ My might isn’t to be trifled with!”

Elise stared momentarily, trying to determine whether he was shooting shit or speaking truth. Before sighing, she seriously didn’t like this whole party thing. “ Yeah, alright, if ya want you can take a seat or something-” She droned, crossing her arms as Izaneus gave her a nod of thanks.

Edos smiled in response, once more unnerving his compatriots, but nonetheless, there was a hearty mood in the air. “ As expected! Now!” He stated, taking a seat amongst his new peers. “ What are we doing exactly?”

Elise struggled not to groan as she began to rehash everything she’d already said.

This would take entirely too long. She could already tell.

 

[Gildarts]

A rusted arm grasped against the viscous cravings within his flesh as his stomach roared. Contemplation of his mind was a feast of itself. Looking at the many lines scrawled across the menu he paused for a moment.

The fallen mage’s eyes lifted from the paper and instead poured over those at his ever-changing table of companions. The familiar glimmer of routine challenge filled him. Not because anything was particularly wrong with his new fellow travelers but simply because it was too reminiscent of his stationary role in life. Much like leaving the room above him, he knew these current strangers would become friends who were destined to leave him behind at some point.

Still, the premise of battling dragons… Dragons were demons indeed. One purpose he knew he still held was to contain their wrath from any world he inhabited. The bellboy or concierge had pointed him in the right direction.

Their table’s newest edition was a grinning lion. Pronounced muscles and the energy of three filled hearts poured off of him. Gildarts decided rather rashly, that he liked the boisterous fellow and greeted him with a wordless, welcoming grin that almost looked goofy as he showed off the whites of his teeth.

Elise, the group authority, it seemed continued a similar summary that had been given to him. Gildarts pricked his ears for any clues that were added the second time around. As he listened, the battlemage placed his fleshed fingertips gently along his jawline and stroked. A gesture synonymous with thought.

A hand swooped in with the proclaimed ‘meal drink’ that Gildarts had ordered, it was bright green and looked like a magical potion itself. The glass was bestowed with the squiggly curl of a fruity orange peel and a straw poked out of it.

Gildarts didn’t know what kale was but he was about to try it. Called to the drink of sustenance because it sounded well, drinkable. He leaned in for a sip and blinked several times. Then he looked down at the drink with distinct scrutiny twisting at the skin around his eyes.

It certainly had magic’s very bitter aftertaste, but without the magic. he surmised to himself and went in for another sip, drinking the rest of the sizable drink in one swift gulp. The lemony aftertaste was refreshing and left his muscles fueled up, but he wasn’t sure if it was anything he’d order ever again.

Around that same time, Elise’s explanation slowed to a halt. It had taken effort, all the patience of an Arcadian cantrip tutor to get her through.

Meanwhile, Gildarts had not intended to intercept their very mission-based conversation. But that’s what happened.

Names were a great icebreaker for a few different reasons. One, everyone knew their own name, so there wasn’t much up for debate. Two, you could tell a lot about someone in how they said their name. The subtle pronunciations. The boldness and confidence that exhaled outward. Introductions could be powerful moments of opportunity. This could be his… Second chance at one at least for Elise. However, nothing would change about his own name’s depiction.

The battlemage’s eyes fell on the youngest there, or well, at least the leanest? Then Gildarts announced, “You know, we’ve been sitting here for about five minutes and I don’t think I’ve gotten any of your names.” He greeted the new face once more and repeated, “I’m Gildarts.”

Elise’s expression told him that it was five minutes too long for her taste. But the young blond beside her wore a hopeful expression with brightly gleaming eyes as he announced, “I’m Izaneous Phortea. Nice to meet you!”

Izzy’s friendly cheer was muffled by his latest bite of pasta but despite a layer of burden that pressed upon the youth’s shoulders, there was ample cheer.

Gildarts responded with a nod. The table seemed to go clockwise naturally and the vampire was next, “Elise.” Her cold voice offered.

“Edos!” Their newcomer finalized the group’s sharing, in a kingly manner that only a true warrior could bestow.

Elise went back to business after the interruption, surmising the point she’d attempted to get off before, “Izaneus and myself have been given a quest by a dragon known as Hammuzi to retrieve something called the Lore Shards from another dragon.” she began. Edos spoke up immediately.

“So. We only have to worry about one dragon?” he boomed. Elise clenched her teeth.

“You only have to worry about one dragon. If Izaneus and I screw this up, we’ll have two of them coming after us.” she emphasized.

“...and a young boy’s life is at stake, on top of it.” the nobleman added. Gildarts and Edos both looked at Izaneus with grim compassion. The leonin slammed his fist into the table, and grinned his hunter’s smile.

“A worthy pursuit then! And a worthy foe! It has been a long time since I’ve hunted such prey.” the archer purred. Elise held up her hands in quiet objection.

"We're not slaying a dragon, we're stealing from one." she said. Emphasis was placed on the second half of her sentence, and she scanned the table to make sure her point was being made.

Gildarts did not understand the need to keep the tasks separately. When dealing with something so lethal as two dragons, perhaps the division had something to do with the mysterious child who was in the mix of all of this. He attempted to contain his shock at the latest statement. His eyes leading a powerful expression, glanced away hoping to shake it. He considered being agreeable for a brief moment, then shrugged that away too.

“You do not intend to slay this dragon…” Gil’s jawbone had grown rigid. A shadow cast across his face and his intent-filled tone, “But just what is it you think the dragon will do… When it finds out it has been stolen from?”

“That’s Hammuzi’s problem.”

Gildarts gripped the side of the table, a single pulse of his anger flexing against his digits. “And just who is Hammuzi?”

“The dragon who wants the Lore Shards back. How many times do I have to go over this?” she responded.

The crash mage’s eye twitched in disagreement. “Tch.” He buckled his jaw, feeling this wasn’t the time to pose his argument. Thinking he might have to go the route of a vigilante if the dragon posed a threat.

Annoyance fueled his next question, he’d noticed her lack of food and inquired, ready to think about anything other than his compromised ideals, "Aren't you hungry, by the way?" Gildarts murmured, gesturing at the empty placemat in front of her.

"Yes." she grumbled.

"Aren't you going to eat, then?"

"...later." the vampire cooed, giving Izaneus a pointed stare. He sighed softly with a frown.

Three of the table wore crescent grins of different variations and Edos’s paw swooped over to his ale for another sizable sip. There was a varied acquaintance-level pause.

“So, what’s got you so interested in dragons, Mr. Darts?” Izzy inquired briefly, though there was a little hesitation considering the last menacing aura around the man at the mention of dragons. It was telling of his character to inquire about others, to want to know what purpose the battlemage had not taken no for an answer could certainly prove to be an imperative one down the line. Gildarts presumed because of this that he was thoughtful and rational.

“Oh, it’s just Gildarts.” His last name was Clive but he barely used it. The scratch of his last name scraped around old memories in his mind. The battlemage’s grin surrounded by stubble pressed on, “Dragons are… Quite a formidable enemy. Have any of you ever encountered one?”

He danced around the young mage’s question ever so slightly. Gildarts felt his own encounter would be more of a fireside tale, certainly too soon to share with such new companions. If he did at all.

 

[Elise]

“Yeah. You could say we encountered one.” Elise sniffed, leaning back in her chair. The glossy, white linen aesthetic of the restaurant caused her to stand out like an inky smudge of grumpiness on the otherwise pleasant dinner conversation. Izaneus raised an eyebrow at her.

“...to be more clear, the dragon Hammuzi soundly kicked our asses and abducted my apprentice as collateral for retrieving these artifacts. Trust me, we are in no position to underestimate dragons.” the nobleman said softly. He took a warm, crispy dinner roll and smeared butter across it as he spoke. Elise eyed the food, and was suddenly aware of her own hunger with nauseating clarity. The bread looked good. She missed the crunch and texture of real food.

Gildarts seemed satisfied with Izaneus’ answer, which gave Edos a turn to press information out of the wizards.

“So! A heist then, eh? Do we know anything about the location? Ways to sneak inside? Guards?” the leonin hunter purred. At this, Elise sat up and gestured her hand across the table. A small, magical incantation summoned a wavering image of the Cevanti badlands, and a series of deep crags inside a desert basin.

“Tyretlethen is a fairly powerful blue dragon who lives in his personal lair called the Azure Citadel. He styles himself-” Elise started, but Izaneus cut in.

“The Azure…Citadel? But isn’t that what the headquarters of the Izzet League is called?”

Elise sighed sharply.

“Yes. A dragon on Inverxe has also named its big mountain lair The Azure Citadel, but we don’t care what its stupid house is called. We’re after these things called the Lore Shards.” Elise said. She swiped her pale hands over the topographical illusion, and an image of spinning, glimmering geodes showed itself.

“Based on my research, the Lore Shards are a series of psionic crystals that can store memories…sort of like a psychic USB stick.” Elise conjectured. This analogy drew blank stares from Gildarts and Edos. The vampire repressed a shudder, and forged ahead. She waved her hand again, and the illusion returned to the image of the craggy, desert fortress.

“Like I was saying, Tyretlethen styles himself a bit of an entrepreneur, he actually associates with the Trade Guild here in Markov as an…antiques trader of sorts. The dragon sends his servants into the harshest wastelands of Cevanti’s ruined past to dredge up all sorts of arcane gizmos.” Elise explained.

“Seems like a risky racket, what with the Unmaking…not to mention all the other bogeys on this World.” Gildarts said, stroking his stubble.

“True. But Tyretlethen specializes in recycled labor…that is to say, undead. He’s apparently quite the necromancer. Raises skeletons and stuff to do all of his dirty work.” Elise noted. Edos thumped his leg heartily, and sounded a single, loud scoff.

“Hah! Dry bones are no match for lion’s cunning!” Edos chuckled. Izaneus nodded, but sighed softly.

“A skeleton horde is the least of our worries, it’s true. We have to assume that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There are probably many, many more tricks the dragon has up his sleeve that we have no way to foretell.”

“My last question is the angle on these artifacts. How did Tyretlethen get them from Hammuzi? There’s a history between these two, I’m sure of it.” Gildarts murmured. Elise raised a slightly surprised eyebrow, and looked at the grizzled crash mage with new interest. His eyes were sparking with intense rumination; she could tell. Maybe he wasn’t as thick as she had initially thought.

“I’ve been worried about that too.” she shrugged. The table went silent for a moment, as the assembled party members all chewed on their own thoughts. The delicate plink and clatter of three star dining filled the otherwise audient silence.

“So!” Edos said, at length. He stood up for, apparently, no reason and beat his hoary chest with a single fist. “It seems some scouting is in order! It’s a good thing you all stumbled on me!”

“Agreed.” Izaneus said with a smile. The red-haired wizard also stood up, and straightened out his coat. “It begs the question of when to begin.”

Elise kept her seat, and offered a shrug of her hand.

“We can begin traveling south-east from Markov at sundown tomorrow. I’ll see if there are any caravans or something going that way.” she nodded.

“Sun…down? A bold choice on Cevanti.” Edos growled. Elise gave Izaneus a pleading look, and the Phortean boy sighed softly. He was beginning to resent having to cover for his vampire compatriot all the time. The least she could do was have some manners.

“We travel at night. It’s just the way we do things.” he said. His voice carried a strange sense of authority in it, surprising himself. He had worked with apprentices before, but he had never actually had any real decision making power in a group of peers. Frankly, between this and his pushback against Elise in the hotel lobby, he was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t left the oppressive restraints of the Phortea manor earlier.

If felt good to make decisions.

“Not sure how I feel about that, but…alright. Suit yourselves. It’ll give all of us time to get some provisions, at least.” Gildarts shrugged.

“Yeah. We should all be making preparations for a long-haul. Meet back at the hotel lobby by next twilight.” Elise said. With that, she threw a scattering of Markovian coins on the dinner table and swiftly made her way out of the restaurant.

The sun had dipped low enough behind the barrier walls that long shadows and a rosy sky greeted her. Despite her attempt at spooking Izaneus at the dinner table, she was actually in the mood for something different. Naturally, the fortress city was lousy with pincushion junkies and displaced refugees. But…Elise felt gripped by a darker hunger. She wanted something more fresh. Something vital, that would squirm and beg like a–

The vampire stopped herself and leaned against the post of a traffic light. She needed to get a grip. All that fear and vitality nonsense was the curse talking; a curse that she was in control of. The silver-white ‘walk’ sign lit up across the street, slightly diffused by the spray of a cedan blowing through the redlight. The streets were damp from a rain she hadn’t noticed, and the whole city smelled like warm asphalt and garbage.

A flight of Markovian fighter jets cruised overhead, flying combat air patrol for some big military operation that was just getting underway. Elise meditated on the implications of a mobilized Markov, and put her feet on automatic pilot for a few more blocks. Ever since she had discovered the remnants of her father’s ghost stuck inside that idiot’s head last year, she had never really allowed herself to slow down and contemplate the greater picture the Crossroads found itself in.

Where exactly did someone like her fit into all of this? Sure, here she was leading an expedition on behalf of a dragon so that she could, ultimately, gain incredible mystical knowledge, but what was actually the point? It occurred to her suddenly that her birthday had been six days ago – her actual birthday, not the anniversary of being turned – and she lamented. Could it be that she was already submitting to the doldrums of immortality after barely a decade?

Elise looked up, and suddenly realized that she was standing outside the plate glass edifice of a Karl’s Junior; Syntech’s most popular fast-food chain. The lavender purple color scheme and monthly specials adhered to the glass was as much of an invitation as any, and it looked like there was just a lone clerk running the register.

Fresh. Supple. Hopeful.

Elise walked through the automatic doors, and looked around the restaurant in a daze. There were one or two security cameras in the establishment, but it didn’t really matter. She was skipping town tomorrow night. No one would go hunting for her out in the zoid-infested bushlands around the capital.

“Hi there! Can I help you?” the clerk asked. She was a trim, mousy type of girl with a neat ponytail and glasses. Her work polo looked pretty fresh, but Syntech wouldn’t leave a new hire alone to run their joint. Nah, this girl ironed her work shirts. Even her nametag – Hannah – indicated all the hallmarks of someone who regularly made the dean’s list.

Elise ran her tongue over the tips of her fangs. Why was she even in here?

“Uh. I’ll have…a Champion Burger combo with…a cherry Pepsi.”

The words sounded distant and automatic to Elise, even as they left her mouth. Hannah nodded and said something eager before dipping into the kitchen. The vampire couldn’t hear the chirpy voice over the sound of her own internal alarm bells.

She had to get out of this place before she hurt someone.

But that was the point.

But she could choose who she hurt.

So hurting some people is fine and others isn’t? That’s a copout. Just let yourself be a damn monster for once.

Hannah reappeared with a paper bag and beverage. Elise fished some more royal coinage out of her cloak’s pocket and dropped it on the counter…almost twice the cost of the meal, probably.

“Oh! W-wow! Thanks!” Hannah gushed, nervously making the necessary change and scooping the extra into a tip jar. Elise clutched the bag of greasy deadweight with cold hands, and avoided looking the eager yuppie in the eye.

“No problem.” the vampire muttered. Elise turned on her heel and stiffly exited the fast food joint, holding the warm bag like it was a fresh deposit of dogshit. Despite the inert nature of her undead flesh, a chill ran down Elise’s spine as her higher ethics and base cravings waged war on a level somewhere fifty feet above her head. The unbreathing body walked on autopilot until the sun had fully set, and the food had become lukewarm.

Eventually, she came to find herself sitting at a bus stop. Multiple routes had come and gone since she’d been there. It wasn’t until a panhandler came along asking riders for spare change that she finally twitched to life. Elise approached the man, drawn and wiry from exposure, and held up the bag of food.

“Hey. I need a favor.”

…

By dawn, Elise was slinking back into her shared room with Izaneus at the Triskele Hotel just as the younger mage was burning incense for his morning attunements. He cracked open an eye as the vampire wordlessly shoved the lid off of the cushioned, pine box passing for a coffin and began to lay back.

“Hm. I was expecting to have to turn you down last night.” Izaneus hummed softly. When she didn’t respond, however, he knew something was wrong.

“You did manage to find a meal, yes? If you really need, I’ll give you some of mine. We need you strong for this-”

“Just feeding doesn’t feel like enough any more. I feel…I want…I want to…” Elise stammered, clawing at the air in a vague gesture of violence.

“I don’t want to be like the rest of them. The curse wants to spread, it–” she continued to blabber, covering her face. She held still, feeling the wellspring of tension spreading in her chest, but fat, blubbering tears would not come. They never would; not with what she was. Greenstripes slithered in from the bathtub and slopped his way into her coffin, nestling his quivering bulk on her midsection. She squeezed the terratopus tightly, causing a hideous squelching noise.

“...the Elise I know never seemed to have a problem killing people. Maybe the curse just feels stronger because…you’re trying to resist it more?” the mage conjectured. Elise remained static.

“Maybe but, small bites aren’t enough. They feed me, but I’m still…empty. I hate this.” she whined, dragging Greenstripes onto her face and smothering herself.

“Maybe there’s…a middle path? Something that satisfies your hunger and keeps the curse at bay? Or maybe…Elise…I’ve heard of cures–” Izaneus began, but he was silenced by the perfunctory slamming of the coffin lid. He remained frozen for a few more seconds before loosening up with a sigh, and dousing the incense with a fluttering hand.

The last thing they needed was for Elise to lose her cool while out on a quest. Izaneus conjured Euphemia to his hand and exited the room with little further preparation. Half of him was tempted to simply out the vampire and leave her in this offworld city to be hunted down. After all, her psychological baggage was hardly his problem, and he had his own issues to work on. On the other hand, Elise was an asset to their party, and he would need her power to make sure he could save his own apprentice.

…no, betrayal was not in his nature. But Elise’s instability required a practical solution, which she was apparently too self-absorbed to explore.

Izaneus sighed again. Well, at least he had a whole day to, perhaps, put in some research. The mage made his way down to the lobby and began to pick at the brunch offerings when he glanced up to see the flat screen broadcasting the latest segment of Dante’s Abyss. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the death-games this year; he’d lost his taste for that sort of thing after his personal entry.

“And that looks like the end of contestant number twenty-four. Shikiria Phortea is dead! What a way to go!”

Izaneus’ head snapped back to the television set.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

Izaneus sat still as he stared at the monitor up high, watching as his first, and only true friend had her head severed from her torso.

“And that’s it for Shikiria folks! She put up a fight for sure! Let’s take a recap at her exploits, this game shall we?” The announcer declared, and Iza watched as the scene flickered and flashed to some point prior to her death, It showed her previous interactions with the Doctor Mcninja, and a blue Tiefling of some variety, their first fight, in which Shikiria had battered both contestants, one with elementary elemental magic, basic evocations use in consort with her fearsome martial arts.

The screen flashed to the point when Shikiria was blasted violently in the back by the Tiefling, The announcer gave a “Whew! Never gets old does it? Shikiria sure got her back though!” He detailed, before the screen flashed once more, during Shikiria’s and Mcninja’s second, and last encounter, in which Shiki had caused a distraction, before rushing in.

The images slowed to a crawl as Shiki landed a gruesome punch, into Jester, the Tiefling’s hip. Which shot out through her thigh in a faucet of blood and gore.

Izaneus almost felt sick, but still it continued.

“Talk about revenge, Eh folks?” The announcer smugly commented, Izaneus couldn’t help but wonder if this was the type of treatment he and the rest of the armada received at their untimely deaths.

“But that’s not all!” Arbiter above..

A swift transition detailed the coming of another battle scene, and Iza couldn’t help but stare as his friend used the magic he’d taught to wreak flame felled havok on her foe, who appeared to be the Tiefling she’d dealt with not moments ago, yet, was the contestant Toga.

By this point the Wizard had lost all sense of thought, his mind and soul a vessel for tempestuous emotions. He felt himself lose strength in his legs, and arms. Nearly falling to the ground in hapless despair. Why had she entered the abyss? Why had she gone through that unruly torture? Surely she’d seen him during his own tenure..?

Maybe she hadn’t? But then still why…

It made no sense. Had she not said… Then another thought came to mind.

Did his mother put her up to it?

The rage that entered his being was indescribably powerful, dark tendrils teased at the corners of his vision, signaling the encroachment of his own magical affliction. His soul burned with the thought of Vengeance should his previous thought find itself as truth.

He would like nothing more than to blast everything, and everyone around him to smithereens as he stormed his way back. In demand for answers.

“Hey, kid, you alright?” asked a gruff voice, stemming from the nearest passerby whom apparently gave a shit about a young adult just sitting alone, staring off into space

The dark tendrils retreated, his mind finding unusual clarity, and it was here he discovered, he’d spent half the day just sitting there, stale waffles and hearty sausages left uneaten, The sky was already partway into the sky, it was around noon, and his hands strangely enough, had scribbled out the formula for different enchantments, spells, and theories he himself had never thought of.

Which was weird enough…

He looked up, the concerned visage of some stranger staring down at himself.

“ Y-yeah, I’m well, just… had a train of thought I couldn’t afford to let leave me.” He excused, gesturing to his open spellbook. Which he then closed. “ I was just… invested, In the show.” he stated, before standing from his seat. Unaware of the fact that it was long since turned off at the behest of a nearby couple. “ I think I need some fresh air.. Pardon me.” He explained simply.

As he walked away, he could feel the affliction within vie for control. Piercing him with what felt like a million razor pointed, thin needles, that threw themselves into his defenses with no effort. With staggered breaths, he exited the hotel temporarily, he swiftly moved toward the nearest empty alleyway with Euphemia’s help.

As he turned the corner, he clutched at his chest violently, grabbing onto the nearby rail to try and keep him steady, to no avail, as he fell to a knee. Something about this…. Thing, that invaded his mind, body, and soul, seemed currently content with his previous despair, and acted to manipulate his emotions, forcefully and subtly both. The images of Shikiria being decapitated flooded his mind, and the simultaneous rage returned.

The void, a similar source of power.

Many magicks often depended on your perspective of their power. If you view necromancy to be a vile and evil act, then should you delve into it, you should nonetheless find yourself more acclimated to it’s more… divisive powers. Yet, even amongst perspective, there are some abilities, spells or no, that were made for nothing more than chaos, and destruction.

As Izaneus struggled to regain control of himself, and his functions, he could feel a similar dread begin to well within him. As this pain grew more and more, he could feel himself slip away. Whatever this was, was forcing him under its heel. After he’d just escaped one as well..

Euphemia, his only comfort in these times, nestled herself against his shoulder, bringing him a modicum of strength to combat this growing darkness.

As it’s influence waned once more, a faint whisper “graced” The Phortea’s ears. Though it’s whisper sounded like a cacophony of voices sounding at once.

“Do not worry dearest pet, you will rise in time.”

Izaneus feared the moment he discovered the meaning behind these words.

As the pains, images, and rampant emotions found themselves temporarily stifled, The mage found himself drained, coughing up an ichor not unlike the unmaking, though, different in some way, perhaps because it was mixed with a vile amount of his blood?

Regardless of the reason, of the source, he could tell that this thing was growing impatient, it was making more brash moves on his soul.. Normally it waited until he was alone… or.. Was it that..

“Shiki…” The sudden reappearance of his old friend, violently meeting her end… provided ample weakness for it to encroach further. He could feel it more clearly now… and the more he thought of it the worse it got..

As he sat against the ill repaired wall of the alleyway outside the hotel. He heaved sighs of relief, finally, it’s assault was over. No matter where he went, or what he did, this parasite would follow, its hand clenched tightly around his soul, waiting for the moment, the second he let his guard down.

The worst part? Izaneus couldn’t tell what it wanted after it gained full control, he could tell when most spirits or magical phenomena had goals. People as well.

Yet it remained a mystery, and not for lack of trying, he had thoroughly researched curses ever since he was the victim of one. Yet, nothing he found proved conclusive. Or, for that matter, useful. All the same however, did it further its siege upon his body and mind.

He looked up to the azure of the sky, and once more found himself wanting.

Rean, Elise…, Shiki..

And now himself.

It seemed like they were all running out of time, and the clock was moving unfairly fast.

---

After hours passed, study found itself inconclusive once more, save for that of Vampirism, from which a couple solutions appeared to show themselves, but would need further study, and potential experimentation.

Yet, as the sun fell to the horizon, and the starry night overtook once more, Izaneus found his focus drawn to the present.

Their small group gathered around the Triskele entrance, they patiently awaited Elise, who muttered out a final confirmation.

“ Everyone ready? Stocked? Set to go?” She asked, receiving an “Aye” from Gildarts, a nod from Izaneus, and a hearty “Quite!” From Edos, Who grinned excitedly, more than ready for their new adventure to begin in stride.

As they set about their journey. A few thoughts entered each of their minds. Izaneus turned to Elise briefly, remembering their previous discussion. But I stayed silent. Returning his gaze to the road ahead.

“Hi ho, Hi ho, to the Dragon’s Lair we go” The mage thought playfully trying desperately to bolster his cheer, to no avail. Hoping for the best, and fearing the worst.

His thoughts scrambled, his heart in disarray, and his soul plagued. He quietly began the massive trek they would now undertake.

 

[Gildarts]

One day, huh?

The hue of his amber irises rolled toward the lobby’s ceiling once again, up there where physical pleasure was waiting for his return. Cozy warmth, silken sheets, the idea of a new night… To devour. His enticing thoughts however, moved away and towards the door.

That was no way to prepare for a quest. Sure, the mage ate food, but not enough of it to warrant putting much effort into getting pounds of prepared food. He preferred to scavenge and live off the land. Yet… The thought occurred to him of an unknown destination and his last venture on Mesa Roja had been particularly fruitless both food and water-wise.

Ick. That had been quite the survivalist’s adventure. One he wouldn’t do over. To risk another trek where a giant tortoise might not be so keen on his one-legged, hitchhiking-ass on its back was already too much.

For a moment, he considered the bloody tomb and the boy that he’d left there. Time had become now countless kernels in an hourglass to Gildarts. Was the child even a kid anymore, considering how age had taken hold of Gildarts’ own face?

“Ah, I better not risk it.” He uttered aloud with a subtly grunted tsk of disappointment and began to compose a short list of tasks in his mind which he echoed, “Food and reconnaissance. Plus…”

The broad-shouldered battlemage looked at the doorway once again. However, his eyes saw beyond the wall. His focus latched onto something as though it were a magnet. A sensation coiled in his mind and gripped every corner of his body resembling that of an off-key chord.

This strum had stirred something within him. Something buried yet waiting to be dredged. Ground was finally broken and answers had gone unsifted.

Unable to avert his fixation, the sensation was so strong the building could have collapsed and it wouldn’t have even occurred to him to blink. In response to this call to action, the acute strands of muscle around his jaw sharpened. A squint framed the immediate spark of intensity held within his gaze.

Suddenly, an electric sensation now shot through his mind. The heat of flame, followed by the hollow chill of dismal recognition. “Was that…?”

A stride fluttered against his cape casting a flickering shadow and in a ghostly motion, the mage was gone.

Elise was not the only one on the hunt that night.

Much like a bloodhound, Gildarts began to chase the scent of a hint that had stirred his all-encompassing inquisition. Yet, it remained an undefined feeling gnawing on his gut. Much like a detective he was certain that at the end of the rope, he would find something that would give him the reason behind such a definite sensation… Of self.

Beastly breath seethed out of his lips in a hiss as he turned the twisting corners of a city he had barely breached. His mind, his instinct, and his inner compass began to take him into a spiral deep within the city’s labyrinth. It was unknown where his quest to unearth the truth within him would end.

…

Darkness plunged into the night, untethered by the random scatter of lights that kept the shadows that surrounded the walkways at bay. As the blur of the hunt continued to unfold, hands reached out behind murky corners tugging at the tatters of his cloak.

“Want some?” A voice grumbled, “Pure bliss… It’ll cost ya.” Procuring a hand to the light holding something that glittered. Something Gildarts only saw in the periphery of his vision. The battlemage stormed on with a whisking shake of his head and lacked curiosity about the trip those stones would bring. For he already knew the answer–a lack of control–which would reap a monumental price for someone like him.

Footsteps of destiny trailed in front of him as he continued to fill them.

Two giant-looking lizard creatures seized the walkway, stances at the ready while they held themselves out as pillars meant to be torn down. Their appearance was akin to bipedal dragons without the wings, one had scales that glistened pale gray the other, a luminescent emerald hue.

A tired set of amber eyes met his twin adversaries with ambivalence. At the present, he would tear anything down in his way. However, perhaps that was not the perspective to take. He simmered his own aggression as he realized its boil and looked at the seven foot tall reptilian creatures staring him down.

“Don’t want any trouble. I merely seek to pass.” The veteran stated his intentions clearly enough. His gaze had been tossed to the side barely marking them as important foes while his eyes tracked the sensation beyond that of the physical walls around him. But it was hard to focus with such a loud dissonance within him.

Twin serpentine tongues swished across their lips as a whisper he didn’t quite catch.

The old man shook his head again, sensing their agitation. If they wanted to start something while he was in this state…. Well, they should have known better.

“We’ve been looking for you.” They stated, an echoing hiss of an accent still remained in the air of their words.

“I told you, I don’t want any trouble. I’m trying to find someone.” Or something. Gildarts warned again as truth drizzled in his words. Impatience flared as a twitch in the corner of his eye.

“That’ssss quite a coincidence, considering you’re just the man we’ve been looking for.” A scaled hand reached out to seize his shoulder but it never got the chance.

Unbound gravity rippled in the air around him. A magnetic silver hue glistened in the air that brought these two goliath creatures to their knees as they fell victim to a current of power most never break free of. Shards of quaking brick began to jumble from the walls of the buildings around him. The debris of the carved walls lingered gracefully like feathers unbound by weight in the air.

Gildarts released a slow exhale, as though regaining control of himself and regarded the breathless lizards with bowing torsos, now battling against the ground. Their hands clawing at the cement beneath them as they attempted to press against the steep, impossible pressure exploding against their frames.

“Uh… Look what you’ve had me do. The city’ll fine me for that. You don’t mind paying the bill, since it was your fault, eh?” Gildarts said gracefully as he embarrassedly raised an arm and swept his fingers through his shoulder-length white hair.

His gut told him he’d already taken too long with these lizards. That whatever he was chasing was getting away. He continued as though his opponents were misbehaving students of his, “Anyway erm, I gotta go. Enjoy being in timeout for a while.”

Gildarts dashed off with a freshly hastened pace. This time, he closed his eyes to focus on the dwindling inkling of the sensation that had previously ripped through his senses, instinct, and mind.

“Where are you?” He uttered through clenched teeth as his eyes remained closed, he dodged walls that would’ve assaulted his momentum.

He then felt the sensation again.

An earthquake began to strike but not just in his mind. He felt the vibration in the flesh of his five toes and the attunement of his magical metal prosthetic. With this spark of flint, his eyes sharpened as they opened with new direction.

Fixed in ferocity, Gildarts used his own gravity to launch him upwards, above all of the rooftops and decrepit skeletons of buildings. Yet, Gildarts was in the part of town that wasn’t well-lit. The type of place that you smelled just when you thought about being past a certain street marker. The part of town where they didn’t bother to replace street lamps when the bulbs broke and left shattered glass on the ground until a storm came along and swept it into the drain.

Still, above the earthquake, he launched himself in the direction that it had vibrated from. He had no doubt. Gravity and all things seismic were second nature to him. A proportion he held within him his entire life. Entirely unwanted.

Yet, his glide across a new plate of enhanced gravity, bounding quickly by the propelled base of his leather boots were not enough to dismiss that fractured second of essential time. Someone had come quickly, caused this, and passed.

Gildarts had arrived just in time to see the ruin. Buildings began to fall in on themselves, his birds eye view of the spot he had just been.

The chill of revelation returned dwelling in certainty.

This was the same street corner he had just been. Debris still clattered after the earth had stopped shaking. Whilst cement and brick buildings churned in on themselves.

Had this sensation… Been hunting him rather than the other way around? Had it instead been him ensnared in a trap without being aware of it?

Gildarts, unafraid to face any challenge, reduced his gravity and met the ground where his magic was still active. His two witnesses would still be there. He felt his jaw unclench with despair as his gut to him what his eyes could not.

They were still there.

Under there.

A mound of infinite bricks piled atop their bodies. They’d been buried alive.

His jaw tucked toward his collarbone as guilt hung on the sway of his lowering head. “Your death was my fault…” He echoed to himself.

He’d uttered those same words far too often in his life. It was the reason he never killed without intention. Without certainty of untamed evil that would never go unchanged.

Gildarts felt the mournful sorrow tug him down to one knee as he sought to rectify his own spell. Though he had not caused the buildings around them to fall, he had caused their inability to run from danger. That was murder. At his own hand. He sensed their bodies beneath the rubble and with a flick of magic, the entire building that had fallen on them lifted like dust in the wind, clattering to the side around the magical point he’d left.

His eyes, fixed on them. Never averting from the dead out of a warrior’s code of respect, now received new information.

Blood oozed everywhere as though squeezed out of their bodies like a juice box. This was… Not unnatural for the state of his magic and the calamity that had brought down the building. Yet, as Gildarts rose to inspect the two mangled bodies he saw a new definitive clue that caused him to look over his shoulder and above the concealing collar of his cape.

Their heads had been sliced clean off and were nowhere to be seen. Yet, all the abiotic rubble idled weightlessly in the air above them or lay off to the side.

From the looks of it, it was a quick but brutal decapitation. It was hard to call it a swift, clean blow when it had left such a grisly mess. Obsidian blood melted against the asphalt, pooling into the unfilled cracks of age in the untended ground. Branching as though reaching out one last time or hopelessly fleeing the gravity that had crushed their bodies into the ground and caused this dismal and formless leak to be all that remained of them.

The twin lizard bodies, once pillars of respectable strength, had now toppled at his feet. Gildarts had even had the passing thought to topple them himself… And well, he might as well have. He released a breathless sigh and felt the blame of their deaths rest on his shoulders while he grasped at threads in his mind for answers. Headhunter? His mind echoed as he searched for possible answers. Any reason for such needless bloodshed, while he continued to sweep the area, now entrenched with mounds of misshapen legos that had once been made of building.

There was a monster that had caused this. There was no doubt in his mind. His gaze plowed into every crevice of rubble that someone capable of this could slink in and hide in. Darkness affronted him at every corner, even above him the clouds seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it back. Eating any pinpricks of stars and moon alike.

His voice roared with unprecedented anger for the unavenged bodies that lay at his feet, “Where are you!? Or are you too afraid to face me?”

There were echoes of his own voice pooling around the remaining standing walls of hollow buildings and empty alleyways.

Other than that, there was no response. Gildarts remained in the dim shadows of his own rage as the lifeless puddle of their black blood wet the sole of his shoe.

Gildarts felt another wave of grief shudder against his shoulders, another burden pulling him down. He persisted against the guilt this time, finding motivation within the sight he now returned his gaze to.

The lizards. Two creatures who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and had picked the wrong fight had died. It was certain to Gildarts now that the fault was not solely his own. Someone had intentionally chose the heinous act of murder... No, slaughter. He corrected himself. The same someone perhaps had even intended that he see it from just enough distance for him to not be able to stop it. That too, was far too daunting of a thought to not consider with some value.

Whoever had done this… His mind reeled to the broken city-scape that spanned a block’s radius… Then back to their freshly decapitated bodies. It was likely someone that the two defeated lizards would’ve been no match for.

He knew the monster that had done this had gone. The magnet that had drawn his mind here and spun his inner compass was no more. Soon, the sun would rise. But the perpetrator had made sure that all the traces of murder were covered in fallen tombs. And the spring of heaven that sang down from the clouds above would soon flood.

The missing heads would be pronounced lost amid the rubble while any cameras pointed at him would identify his face along with the guilt hanging in his shoulders, if there were any computerized eyes around this part of town at all. If they could cut through the night. Gildarts always walked around as though he didn’t care what the surveillance witnessed, for he never would have assumed the worst, nor would he have caused it, beyond a building fine. The worst point however being this.

Now it was he who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Good thing however, he was getting out and leaving the city tomorrow. If anyone had seen anything, he wouldn’t be around to find out.

He turned around one final time pulling his attention away from the danger that was no longer there. In order to look at the bodies and felt his brows raise with sympathy as he felt the sticky press of them on his toes. Had they been human, he knew their blood would've still been warm. Instead, it was the same temperature as the air and the ooze that lapped against his feet continued to add a new sheen to his black leather boots.

Yet, the sensation he'd traced like a bloodhound all the way here now splashed against his face in disgrace and would remain trailing in the print of his own shoes. But, he'd gotten what he'd came for. A grim answer found waiting for him in the form of two lifeless bodies.

One last lingering look of a sight his memory would never unsee and finally, he permitted himself to leave them and depart. Pulling taught the forbidding collar of his cloak while the final whoosh of fabric tugged against the wind of his movement and he folded himself into just another shade of the night.

The gentle dapple, the splashing patter of new rain, and the fresh scent of petrichor adjacent would wash the bodies away like the storm did to all the things that the city wouldn’t clean. Broken glass, or broken bones, or a broken spirit. All ended in a collective swirl of the storm drain.

 

[Gildarts]

Gildarts with a flicker of a tear still in his eye had joined his companions. His cloak covered in gentle dewdrops of rain while the weight of his low hanging head dipped. His mind, far too cast in an intangible distance to move the shaggy strands of hair from the cast over his face.

They traveled at night.

He recalled the iteration vaguely. For the veteran, this notion only stirred up the emotion of the night before. Yet, within the numb drought of feeling, they all pressed on.

The only mage there with mystical white hair took up the rear, his pace was slow and steady but never depreciating. His cape trailed behind him and his joints often when pressed at a new angle emitted little squeaks that rattled against the cool darkness of the night.

Before him, the hearty and jovial warrior Edos stood side by side with the youth Izaneous whose mood also seemed as quietly repellent as Gil’s own. Their leader, Elise who was taking up the front carried her own burden in silence.

Moods were rather glum at the start to their adventure.

Yet, that didn’t bother Edos who seemed to be moving with liquid valliance in every step. The great and mighty lion was ready and prepared for the quest ahead. The habitual, unrelenting flame emanating from him from his posture to his confidence in each motion, gradually started to warm the party who were all in their heads.

Gildarts was the first to be compelled by Edos’s flame to hasten his pace just enough to stand beside the other two. It was quite the line up, a haggard and aged Gildarts next to his contrast, a youthful mage with vibrance in his eyes, next to a colossal lion who was a kingly warrior in nature.

“This is a realm I am not familiar with,” Though, in this reality, the mage was unfamiliar with everything. Gildarts began this conversation with a gleam of curiosity with an undertone of sadness in his eye. “Would you mind giving me a run down at what the terrain looks like at the end of our venture?”

Elise’s ears pricked at the sound. The question faced her partnered companion, Izzy, likely simply because he was closer. The vampire had full intention of intercepting his question, but found they continued.

Gildarts had incomprehensibly inquired about how long their travel would be to get to the dragon and the child. He wondered about the implications of time in this way but did not articulate all his thoughts so as to receive a conducive response so he added, “Will we be taking any sort of mode of transportation? What about… The rain? This world is very odd. Do you sense it? The texture?”

Yes, with infinite opportunity to learn, a mage among mages was asking about the weather. Talk about an icebreaker.

 

[Elise]

"Our plan is to catch up to a Guild caravan that left behind schedule today, thanks to some...unforeseen interference." Elise said to the men walking behind her. Her voice came muted by the rain, but Greenstripes popped his head out of her rucksack on queue and waggled a wrench at the party in silent triumph.

"We should get to their depot before sunrise, and have a chance to stow away on their trucks while their guard is down. Markov may have tight security, but things loosen up when they get outside of the walls. Why worry about hitchhikers when a giant, robotic lion might be gunning for you?" the vampire snickered.

"Hmm...how do you know this Guild caravan is heading to the dragon's stronghold?" Edos grumbled. The sound of greasy rain filled the otherwise silent moments as Elise wrestled with this very concise incision into her planning skills.

"I'm...pretty sure! But if it's not, we'll just hijack a truck and go there ourselves, posing as Guild reps." Elise nodded, glaring over her shoulder.

"But we still won't know where it is." Izaneus countered.

"So we'll kidnap a driver too!" Elise barked.

"Not really interested in breaking any laws in the only city on this planet..." Gildarts griped.

"So we'll do it smart and sneaky-like!" the vampire shouted, throwing her hands up.

"If we do get to the dragon's lair, how will we pose as Guild members without the right delivery?" the leonin hunter insisted.

"Fuck!" Elise snarled, whipping around in a spray of dark, spattering rainfall. The company halted in its tracks, and by some small miracle, the precipitation managed not to steam off of the vampire's enraged face.

"This is the best I was able to come up with, alright?! I didn't hear any of you offering any solutions, but by all means, help a sister out! Until such a time as you manage to squeeze an actual thought out of those beef-filled craniums of yours, this is the best game going!" the immortal teen gnashed. She panted softly, despite her breathless lungs, and locked her crimson eyes on each of her companions in turn. Why did she ever bother inviting such plebians along on heists like this? Her helpers had been useless on Mesa Roja, useless on Erde Nona, and now they were useless here as well!

They aren't useless though, madame. That is quite unfair.

"Not now, Greenstripes!" Elise hissed, looking down at the plaintive mollusk. The terratopus, pulsing a gentle shade of lavender and white, patted her cold cheek with one of his suctioned arms.

Nothing is certain in the Crossroads, you know this. And your companions have kept you alive many times over the past few years. Do not let their valid questions push you away. They are trying to understand. To be closer.

Elise growled softly, grimaced, and then turned back to the party.

"I'm...sorry. Look. This was the best I could do. I need your help...er...we need to help eachother to make this work. I don't have answers to those questions...so maybe you can think of some. Until then just...follow the road." Elise said. The words were sour, and came slowly as her familiar coached his mistress through them.

With that done, the vampire turned on her heels and began marching off to the muddy, darkened hills beyond. Existential dread gnawed at her heels with every step down this road of adventure and glory. The only way to stay ahead of the depression-gremlins was to keep moving.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

If you were to suffer, to feel your very existence leave you, would you tell a friend? Or would you hide those pains in spite of your friendship, unwilling to subject your companions to your suffering? At least three in this group had felt this pain, and chose to keep silent about it's problems and infectious depression that seemed to hover over the camped tents every time they stopped for the daylight to pass them by.

Nightmares, Dread, Stagnation.

These thoughts plagued those involved in the Draconic machinations. For a myriad of reasons.

"Master, you should sleep, the sun is nearly down." Euphemia chirped quietly. Nestling against Izaneus

"Thank you Euphemia, I'm just working on a small project of mine." He said with a tentative smile. Laying a small hand and caressing her feathers carefully. Grateful for her company, and companionship. Just as he was his other compatriots. With the selfsame affection she nuzzled her head into his touch. Happily enjoying the small respite this journey had offered. For all of it's idiotic and frankly painful events. He'd had more fun these past months than he had the entire year after the Abyss.

As thoughts of comfort slowly traversed his tired mind, a lance of suffering pierced his soul with all the strength of a wrathful Deity.

immediately he fell from his conjured chair, toppling over a slew of vials and parchments labeled with sigils he'd bee studying. Coughing horridly as he collapsed against the ground, his eyes shut tightly as he clutched desperately at his chest, pleading it give him the strength to breathe. Black ichor dripping from his mouth as he silently suffered on the floor of his tent.

Closer yet closer, not long now.
The voice that spoke to him assured him of it's intentions, whatever they may be, it was invading his body and soul to wreak some form of destruction

"Izaneus? Is something the matter?" He heard Gildarts speak from beyond his tent. " I heard a crash. What's the issue?"

"I'm fine!" He said, without his permission. " Just tripped while performing a Ritual." He chuckled, a hint of embarrassment laden in his voice. Gildarts stood outside his tent a few moments longer, and Izaneus, his voice, his will not his own. Began to wonder, to hope that he opened that door. To see what was becoming of him, they didn't have time to waste anymore. Something had to be done.

His menacing silhouette against the lantern light from inside his shelter. Proved to be a small hope for the youngest Wizard.

Yet that was not to last.

"Oh! Alright then, try not to drop shit though, it's.. late? Early, whatever, it's bedtime."

With that, his silhouette left, crunching the ground beneath his shoes, the sound of which grew more distant.

In times like these, Euphemia was his only real companion, though he appreciated the others dearly, only his familiar knew of his suffering. Though he was sure the others held their own pains... This one was his, and that brought about a sense of solace, and fear for the coming days.

Eventually, he regained control of his body, and quickly went to sleep as Euphemia had suggested, perhaps in his dreams he would find more comfort than the waking world.

 

[Elise]

After two days of slopping through the rain-drenched ditches that served as Cevanti's excuse for roads, the four of them came within sight of the Guild depot. It wasn't much more than a small cluster of metal, modular buildings illuminated by floodlights. Various tarp-covered trucks were parked on a spread of cracked tarmac, and the whole compound was encircled by an ancient powered fence system. It was half derelict, and had received numerous improvised repairs over the centuries since Cevanti's Fall, but it still visibly crackled with humming, electronic death.

"Hmm...good for keeping out feral zoids, but not designed for thieves." Edos purred in Elise's ear. She nodded, and looked back at the leonin, whose eyes were glinting a savage yellow-green in the otherwise complete darkness of their cover. They were currently squatting in a small copse of boggy trees, no more than a hundred feet from the Guild relay station, and thanks to some winged reconnaissance from Euphemia, they knew that the three watchtower guards were fairly uninvested in their jobs that night.

"Couple of weak spots. I could blow through them pretty easy." Gildarts offered.

"Maybe, if things get out of hand. But we should aspire to try discreet methods first." Izaneus said, holding up a hand.

"Yeah, that's the trick, isn't it." Elise snarked softly. If this had just been a matter of boosting a truck from some underpaid caravaneers, they would have already been gone by now. Most other days, she would have been happy to spit such rhetoric in Phortea's bougie face, but she knew better than to dish out the sauce when things were about to get dicey.

After all, last time she had underestimated an escapade like this, Rean had been kidnapped.

"How about this...Edos and myself don't have trouble getting around walls and a couple drowsy guards. He and I can find a way inside, and let you two in after." Elise offered. There was a consensus of nods, and a ruffle of rain-soaked bushes as the vampire and the hunter moved to infiltrate the compound. If anyone wanted to air their disagreements, they’d missed their chance.

The night was ambiently hazy, with another late-night downpour that had plagued their travels for the past few days. It gave the stark, halogen lighting of the caravan compound a distinct halo that simultaneously scattered the illumination and deepened the ambient shadows.

Before Elise could register the movement, Edos was up a nearby acacia tree. The alabaster leonin moved with surprising grace among the boughs. She watched as he gauged his leap for just a moment, before launching himself ten feet through the air from an extended branch to the top of one of the towering, concrete fence posts.

The only thing to mark his passage was the faint rustle of some foliage. To their credit, the crew in the nearest watch tower swung their spotlight over to the acacia grove, and threw the tree into sharp relief. Aside from a shaking limb, there was no sign of Edos, who had already clambered down the pillar and taken cover behind a stack of shipping palettes.

The wizard teen nodded with an impressed pout, before tracing a path of magical sigils over herself.

“Lee ber ah!” she incanted softly. A swirl of blue whisps whirled around her as she sidled against the fence. Her Aether Glide spell proceeded to take hold, and she felt her weight being cradled with buoyant, invisible force. To be honest, it was her first time using this spell, but surely this sort of thing was intuitive, right?

As it turned out, the ability to levitate and float around was not like a game.

The vampire immediately rocketed ass-first straight upwards, and she uttered a small yelp in spite of herself. It was only the quick reactions of Greenstripes, who slithered out of her backpack and lashed both of them to a stray filament of rebar, which prevented them from careening into the watchtower.

“Fuuuhck fuck fuck fuck.” she hissed. Elise yanked herself back to the side of the electric fence, and braced herself against the cold, slimy stone. The sensation was a bit like being underwater, but it was her mind that propelled her, rather than her flailing limbs. And yet, flail they did. Fuck dammit, she needed to get a grip. She was making herself look like an ass in front of all of these dumbasses. Just as she started to truly panic, Greenstripes’ calm crooning drifted across her mind.

Just let me help, madame.

Elise bared her fangs, but grunted in resignation.

“Fine.” she pouted.

And so, the terratopus walked their weightless mass up the side of the fortification, slowly suck-popping his arms one at a time, until they had lighted upon one of the exposed pillar tops.

“Alright, I’ve got it from here.” she whispered. She dismissed the magic and leapt the remaining thirty feet down to the sodden blacktop, just as the beam of a spotlight passed over her previous perch.

Just as she began to gather her composure, she hissed as a heavy paw slapped onto her shoulder. She almost reached for her scalpel before Edos thrummed in her ear again.

“A bit sloppy, but effective! Now, how will we get our friends inside?” he growled. His whiskers twitched as he looked around the shipping yard. Like most warehouse backlots, there were stacks of random cargo, metal container racks, and various forklifts in various states of disrepair. The main modular building center was still about fifty feet away, and the front gate was on the far side – not really an option.

Elise looked up at the watchtower above them, and then down at the ladder leading up to it.

“I wonder if they have like…emergency escape ladders up there?” Elise pondered aloud. The leonin chuckled softly, and nudged her with a massive elbow.

“Why wonder? Any hunter worth his fangs carries a length of good, solid rope!” Edos grinned. He produced a winding cord of hempen rope from his leather satchel, and threw it over his rippling shoulders. He began to lift himself up the slick, iron rungs, but paused with a thoughtful flick of the tail.

“Hmm…but what if there is more than one up there?”

Elise grinned as Greenstripes popped out of her backpack again and scuttled along the length of her arm before plopping onto the asphalt.

“Just let us handle that.”

This sort of thing was old habit for the handy little creature. He turned himself the same, speckled shade of grey as the concrete he began to slither along. It was a pretty high climb for a terratopus relying solely on their suction pads, but the strength of Elise’s arcane infusions into his existence made it bearable.

Before long, the magical mollusk oozed up into the dank, mildewed confines of the watchtower proper. One human was manning the floodlight, aimlessly sweeping it over the landscape and forest canopy for signs of an Akata attack. There was one other humanoid – a partial cyborg, from the looks of it – who was currently asleep.

Aside from a small HAM radio, minifridge, and a few folding chairs, the watchtower room was completely threadbare. Good. That would make it easy to take out the chump on the spotlight. Greenstripes slopped his way up the wooden wall, adapting its russet coloration as he did so, before suspending himself just above the watchman’s head.
The poor woman didn’t even have a chance to cry for help before she twenty pounds of gooey, suffocating muscle dropped onto her head. She made muffled attempts at a gurgled scream as the familiar strangled her into submission. It wasn’t long before she sagged to the damp floor, limp…but alive.

The augmented man, sitting with his legs kicked up on the railing, didn’t even rouse from his gentle snoring as Elise and Edos appeared through the hatchway a moment later. Elise wordlessly swept over to the idle spotlight, and began to slowly wash it over the landscape. Hopefully the other towers hadn’t noticed the momentary lapse in vigilance, but nothing was coming through the radio.

The vampire urgently gestured to Edos to lower his rope, and the leonin complied…though he did offer a nervous gesture at the sleeping cyborg. The young man – teenager, really – seemed to have a modified ocular implant which was illuminated, despite his apparently deep slumber. Elise could only shrug, and hoped that Gildarts and Izaneus would get the message from Euphemia soon.

The faster and quieter they found a truck to stow away on, the better.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

'They await you, Izaneus' Euphemia declared silently to the Wizard, who nodded in thanks as he watched his familiar sail on high, nigh invisible in the clouds above. Izaneus could feel her presence, deep within his soul, and smiled at the gentle comfort the world allowed him. He sighed, as he turned to Gildarts. " We're up, think you can be as stealthy as you are destructive?" He played, receiving a huff in response, as well as a curt nod.

“Let’s trade your words for some action hm?” He jibed back, making his way over to where Izaneus had gestured just moments earlier, upon hearing Meliora’s affirmation of their companions readiness.

Izaneus sighed upon seeing the rope, not his strong suit, but with some Self-made footholes made through the use of transmutation, not impossible in the slightest.
So he did as much, clambering up the rope, while bits of the fortress wall jut out unnaturally to aid him in his climb before returning to their original station, though it didn’t matter much to Gildarts, who simply lightened himself to a fraction of his current weight, thrusting himself upward, with enough force to land gracefully on the watch tower’s floor. Not bothering with the act of climbing.

Yet besides this, as they arrived a faint clunk sounding on the metal below them, Izaneus looked to first the unconscious body who found Greenstripes… or whom Greenstripes had found. He placed his fingers on her neck, a strong pulse, just knocked unconscious. To which Izaneus had sighed in relief.

He hated the act of killing, he understood there were situations where naught else could be done… but…

He shook his head of the thoughts, now wasn’t the time to be deliberating morals.

As quiet as he found himself able, Izaneus had looked to the Cyborg, his crimson augmentation glittering faint in the brisk air, snoring softly, unmoving.

Izaneus moved to Elise and Edos. Whispering to gain their attention. “ Where from here?” Elise immediately flicked her finger downward diagonally, pointing downward briefly, before returning her hand to the light that the guards around them remained none the wiser of their infiltration.

A soft nod and a brief glance at their surroundings was what Izaneus needed to formulate the next plan, his eyes scanning the asphalt ground below and iron towers around them, spot-lights drifting to and fro the landscape, making thorough work of their guard duty. Good for the guards, bad for the mission.

Gildarts was the first to move, patting Iza on the shoulder to gain his attention, as though to say “Follow me” So, Izaneus did so. Figuring it would be best to move both before the unconscious guard woke up, and before their brief moment of opportunity faded.

Euphemia flew above, guiding them gently, through which Izaneus relayed this information.

Thus far the plan was to make sure Izaneus and Gildarts got to a truck and then have Elise and Edos follow, as it was the former whom had much more potential in getting caught.

Izaneus traced his eyes where Elise and Edos kept silent, waiting and watching, as true predators were wont to do. Yet despite that, after their travels he held a firm belief that at least one of them held much more humanity than she was willing to admit, at the very least, in comparison to many others of the same caliber.

Shaking his head once more, his thoughts turned to themselves. Why was he thinking this way? What made his thoughts become so rampant and active. Lately it's been hard to determine what were his thoughts, and what were his feelings, and which of the two he would act on.

He was so wrapped in his internal deliberations he hadn’t realized he stopped, simply in the middle of the Fortress. Which he realized only after a large gruff hand grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him into cover behind one of many cargo crates. He muffled a cry of surprise as he pulled himself free shortly after. Watching as the observatory spotlight from behind them as they sat, passed them by.

He sighed as he rubbed his shirt collar free, though it didn’t seem like Gildarts held him particularly tightly, likely understanding it was a brief lapse in thought, it didn’t require much strength to pull someone who was following along, no matter how absent that was.

Izaneus nodded and vocalized his thanks in the form of a brief whisper. “ Sorry” He began, unable to find a finish to that statement. What had come over him? How would he explain it?

In yet another stroke of luck, Gildarts was as versed in the forms of emotion as he was in magecraft, and simply offered a brief nod. Which said all it needed to.

“Which truck do we get on..?” He then asked, gesturing to the finely organized militaristic trucks that held a slew of cargo shipments on them. Tarped to protect from rain and inquisitive eyes alike.

To this, Izaneus could all but sigh. “ We could look for documentation of delivery… though that in and of itself is risky…” Izaneus spoke softly, scouring the fortress for any sign of which was going where..

“I sense we should have asked this before we began our descent from the tower..” He continued shortly after, eliciting a sigh from the elder mage. Welp, that meant it was time to improvise.

 

[Gildarts]

It would be an honest analysis that Gildarts Clive didn’t know entirely what was going on. And while he considers it a limiting belief to think anyone knows everything that is happening in a situation… Gildarts is one of many warriors that holds the unique mentality that anything could happen at any time, therefore it is impossibly time consuming to think about the possibilities. He prefers the perspective that empowers him to make them, that is to make things happen.

The only… Real issue to this take on reality is that Gildarts omitted anything and everything from his mind that wasn’t ‘save the kid, defeat the dragon’ and would do anything and everything to take them forward with this noble pursuit in mind. Hardly a big picture kind of guy, meanwhile blindly moving forward amid a carefully netted maze was… Less than ideal in a group setting.

Maybe he scored points for determination?

Gildarts exhaled some steam, his eyes followed everything before he turned inward, taking cues from his gut and the youth. The veteran knew there was only so far that mere strategy could take them. Sometimes, improv was the best plan of action.

“I suppose you can use your magic to signal them in, when we’ve settled somehow? Something tells you, you’ve got something flashy up your sleeve.” Gildarts turned to Izzy with a twinkle in his eye, an idea forming as mischief tangoed across his face, “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

As he turned his gaze away from the youth, Gildarts realized why he liked him so much. Elise and Edos were both… Lethal, it is a subtle texture to someone who has seen battle enough times. After a while, it isn’t a mentality people take off as easily as their clothes. It stays on them, sticks to them. Sticks in them. Izzy, even if he had seen violence in the past, even if he had acted in violence didn’t strike Gildarts as well… The same tone of lethality he considered himself to be. In essence, Gildarts would never get a second chance at his life. Izzy gave him hope of a new path, even if it was not his own.

Then, the grav-wizard grinded his heels into the ground before charting a course across the distance. See, Gildarts thought improv worked best when parts were separate and granted space to know their own distinct shine. Age allowed him this one wisdom that if anything among these younglings, he knew himself best.

Fully armed guards never really ever thought to look up since not everyone could fly. It was the best stealth Gil could deliver, given his screeching joints and less than limber muscles these days.

Among his mid-air stride, given the night’s presence one might call it a moonwalk, he considered the task at hand and had departed without a fully formed goal. Just a thought in mind. Maybe it was a backup plan. If they failed, they’d just get on the last truck and hope it took them where they wanted to go. Though, through all the backup plans, Gil always knew there was a baseline he’d just hate to have to resort to that. Sure it might blow some of the operation but he didn’t particularly want Elise breathing down his neck about it.

Meanwhile, Izzy blinked as the mage glided away. Planless, or at least it seemed that way. He blinked again, left with his own thoughts he felt the tug of the rabbit hole of his mind draw him in. He resisted the urge, Gildarts wasn’t that great at conveying stuff. Izzy got that much, however it seemed like Gil had prompted him and wanted him to do something. He’d mentioned flashy, surely he’d meant to signal to the others? But what if he’d also meant to cut the power to the facility? Something more graspable and literal would’ve been more useful.

He knew old guys talked in riddles, but Gildarts was really trying on the art of conception in the form of communication in the middle of an operation. Still, Izzy knew he was expected to do something as he watched Gildarts skip like a stone across the air and traced his trajectory to one particular spot.

The gliding Gildarts, never a man to look at itineraries, had a different strategy in mind. Observation delivered him an aerial outline of the scene. Different trucks layered around them. All boarding various things on board. He had to consider making sure the truck he chose had enough room as well as was going where they were.

His glean carried some more information. An enemy he was mainly unfamiliar with, the automated kind. Unliving flesh, programmed beings were speckled around the charters. He found himself squinting at the added difficulty of modern day challenges. A new dimension to the task at hand.

If the lights didn’t go out, another option would be to not draw attention but somehow get the truck to reverse close enough to them. But that would draw too much attention. Feeling his path solidify through the wrong theories he exhaled and bit his lip.

Yeah yeah, I know you all told me to be discreet but… The way things are I really am having a tough time seeing how this wouldn’t in some way help. He thought to himself. Waiting for another option to occur to him, to talk him out of what he would do next.

The empty sound of silence filled his mind. Well if it helps Elise, I thought of how angry you’d be if I did it. And I did it anyway. If we are being really honest, one, this was inevitable and two, she definitely should’ve seen it coming.

Without a third thought on the matter, it was time to split some hairs.

Gildarts had steadied himself on a low perch when suddenly, with a press of magic shot across the sky with a good amount of speed and far more trajectory than Izzy could’ve expected. He was going so far, out of sight, past the station… Did Gildarts really just give up on the operation that easily? Yeah they’d reached some slight adversity but it could’ve been overcome.

The thought of desertion during a mission settled into Izzy’s mind as he tried to take apart the pieces of the puzzling riddle he’d been left with. Izzy was supposed to guide the others there. But there was far too much missing for there to be any clear path he could see.

Next thing he knew, there was a low growl emitting from the ground shaking objects in the distance before a wave of vibration met with his feet and his body was shaking too. Just as suddenly as it began his body stopped moving. It felt very odd but he recalled the definition of earthquake and wondered if it had been just that.

However, whatever it was had sent the people beneath the young mage’s gaze scurrying. Though no alarm had sounded, uncertainty stirred in the air with the slight breeze of distress.

Gildarts exhaled, he was hunched over and submerged in a bush. In the dark. The operation he’d taken the initiative on had needed a light touch. The spot he’d chosen and the pressure he’d executed had pushed the earth’s tectonic plates just enough to get the exact outcome he’d hoped. A small split in the road. Not enough force to cause a landslide. Not little enough vibration to not have any effect on the soil around him.

Yes, Gildarts without looking at the small tear in the road with his own eyes knew the deed had been executed correctly. Flashlights moved in at the mouth of the road as a few people scanned the perimeter of their station after the quake. The guiding light of their luminous bulbs granted them with the knowledge that the road had been partially severed, but not fully destroyed. His auburn eyes remained gleaming behind the camouflage shade of the night and the shrubby green leaves as he patiently sat still for the rest to be revealed.

“Alright, alright, what happened here?” Shouting echoed all the way across the courtyard after important authority was called to sort out the damage.

“Earthquake sir. Ruined the road out of here. Should we ugh… Somehow go around this road?” A younger man who had seen the entire thing, informed his superior.

“AROUND? You think we got time for that? We’re already behind. Ugh, my boss is gonna have a field day with this one. What dumb bad luck. The earth really just had to retaliate against me on a day that was already against me.” He tsked as he grumbled aloud.

“When it rains, it pours sir.” The lesser in command offered the words, which fell on his boss like a consolation prize.

“I know. That’s why I’m stuck here talking to you. Alright, alright, I’ve got it all figured out now that I’m lookin’ at this garbage.” The man with authority, adorned with a kepi on his head commanded as he regarded the split. “See, it isn’t so bad we could just take the trucks over it one at a time. Have them all line up and get ready to drive through. The ones going to the stronghold will get in line first, since you should’ve been there yesterday. Let’s get moving on, people! If your destination is the stronghold, you’re up first. Let’s go! Get ready to head out!”

Various shouting commenced, clearing the plan with all who were within earshot to hear it. Their loud communication offered coordination to all the drivers within the vicinity but also the team who waited above hearing the last reverberations of the echoes from below.

In forcing a new plan for those they were infiltrating, their own had become much clearer. It was time to board. Gildarts hoped Izzy would take his cue to track Gildarts who couldn’t take them on his own shoulders to their prize. Izzy would be the guiding light, he would lead them on a straightforward path, one entirely different than Gil’s own, but charted first by the old wizard to add assurance.

Now they had order and a plan surely enough with some details that were heard by his fellow party members. On the surface it told them everything they needed to know. But, they’d still need another way to get to the trucks unnoticed now that they knew which ones they were. Amid the calamity, it would help. Things were pretty regulated, the spotlight, the eyes. Yes, Gildarts had added some oil to the already hot pan but his idea was sound enough, utilize the outside world if they couldn’t weave their way in. Stealth was both made easier and harder now due to the commotion he’d stirred up.

The only particular issue was that Gildarts had to initiate a second earthquake. One that was just a quiet rumble, a slow to start vibration as a cue. Enough to give the excuse for the others to turn out the power… Gil hoped that if Izzy didn’t see him move from his spot aerially, he’d know that he was waiting for a reason.

The other issue was if they couldn’t do it in time it would only be Gil himself getting on that truck. He was already close enough now to board. He just hoped the others knew how he wanted them to follow behind.

If they failed this second motion… Well, the considerations of a new backup plan if the others weren’t able to immediately make it over to him in time began to cross his mind. This included hijacking the car himself, following the stream in front while he waited for the others trailing behind. Gil really hoped it wouldn’t come to that since he didn’t know how to drive.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

The rumble of the earth roused Izaneus from his mental slumber, shocking the poor wizard awake as he stumbled and tried desperately to regain his footing. A few moments later the tremors ceased. Leaving a dead quiet before the shouting commenced. Leaving Izaneus wondering what exactly had just happened,

Then suddenly, a process of sorts, semi-clicked within his brain. What did that mean? It meant he thought he knew his role, but was still wholeheartedly unsure about what that could be. Uncertainty, in a nutshell.

With a flair only he could manage, Izaneus stumbled as the rumble slowly started to die, yet despite this. He continued forward, staying wary of the ever vigilant spotlights, and their accompanying guards. Quickly dashing out from his hiding place, only to duck behind another crate.

Voices all ‘round made him wonder whether or not this was an effective hiding place, yet they all seemed preoccupied, what exactly had Gildarts done? He swept aside that notion of curiosity, and instead focused himself towards his goal, the power room.

A jittering spark of electricity playfully danced across his arm as he prepared the tempestuous force required of the spell he had in mind.

Yet, as he entered the facility, what he hadn’t thought of, was the possibility of running into someone as he entered.

In the blink of an eye, faster than he could think, Izaneus threw his now violently sparking hand into his adversary’s visor. Which cracked and arced from the sheer force of the spell.

Later, Izaneus surmised that this particular guard would have indeed screamed for his friends, had the lightning not fried him so thoroughly, yet, reach him it did, and though the only sound within that hallway was the zipping and zapping of wild electricity, it would soon be accompanied by a blunt and heavy thump as the guard was thrown back a fair ways.

“Well shit.. That’s one use..” he stated, feeling the storm he’d prepared fade slightly within him.

Magic was a strange sort to the uninitiated, and Izaneus often wondered what allowed some to be more resistant to some forms of invocation, and weaker to others.

Once more he had to stop himself from reeling into his own mind. It was far too easy to be lost within his thoughts these days…

Quickly he ran over to the now unconscious guard, whom now had obvious scorch marks on their equipment and skin, the fading formation of a lichtenberg scar already traveling down his skin. Placing two fingers to his neck, Izaneus waited, just a moment.

Bu-bump.. Bu-bump…

Rhythmic and steady heartbeat, despite enduring what Izaneus believed to be his most devastating spell yet. He hated killing, the unmade he understood. They.. weren’t really themselves anymore, and he’d want someone to put him out of his misery if he were in that state too.

But, people were people, they had lives, hopes, dreams and aspirations. Families and loved ones.. Who was he to take that all away?

This is what kept Izaneus from being so deadly to his foes. Despite his abilities more than qualifying him for being a force of nature to such people.

Elise too… He could sense she held some form of value towards death.

He wished to help her. In some small capacity, as thanks for helping him not too long ago… even if sometimes he wished his healing incantations could restore his pride.

Intoning a small ritual of restoration, Izaneus quickly healed the majority of the damage sustained to the poor man.

Then he resumed his task, ever mindful of the potential time limit he was on. Quietly dashing through the hallways of the strange facility. Finally, and luckily without further delay or interruption, he arrived at the main power room. Just as quietly as before he cracked open the small door leading inwards. Where an array of technology he had no place being near was located.

None of this made any kind of sense to him, but the few things Izaneus understood of technology made what he was about to do seem like a good idea at the time.

Entering the small-ish room, he quickly flexed the muscles in his hand, once more calling the power of the storm to his palm. Then… he waited..

One…

Two..

Three minutes.

The trucks were beginning to go, and as if by clockwork. A low, slightly more powerful rumble than before initiated, Izaneus waited a moment, then two as it continued, to make this seem just a touch more real.

Before plunging his hand into the array of circuitry before him, causing the entire system to begin whirring and sparking uncontrollably before..

Darkness. Beautiful perfected void.

More shouting took place not long after. “ The fuck’n quake took out the lights!”

“ Not just the lights ya foo! Whole damn system’s down!”

Flashlights, flares and other means of illumination immediately became prevalent, which was fine, Izaneus had already made his way out, and called Euphemia toward him as he ducked and dodged through eyesight. He could do stealth, albeit not as well as some others in his group. But that wouldn’t be a problem for long. “ Get Elise and Edos, guide them toward me Meli..” He whispered out, trying to avoid the sounds of communication that were slowly getting closer.

“Oi! What’s the situation!” Cried a deep voice through the blackness. Looks like they were still picking up the pieces. He couldn’t help but hope that whatever happened, they wouldn’t figure it out until they and their truck was long gone. With a small sigh of relief, Izaneus looked toward the direction of the tower, and of Gildarts. Wondering how everyone else was faring..

Regardless… his next job was to make sure he got on the right truck…

 

[Elise]

Vindication was one of Elise’s favorite emotions. The sensation of being proven right poured over her like a warm bath as she watched Gildarts streak into the sky and start tearing the ground apart. The grungy old man was the epitome of the hammer and nail mindset. After all, a square peg would go through a round hole if you hit it hard enough, so why not just detonate everything in your path?

“Honestly…” she breathed from atop her perch of one of the warehouse roofs. Edos and the vampire had slunk behind the two forward party members to keep an eye on them. The witch was a barely visible wraith in the deep shadows, and Edos’s white coat blended eerily well with the bland, bleached concrete of the modular storage buildings.

“Gildarts is quite lively, for such an old human. I hope to be just as strong when my mane is silvered.” Edos purred appreciatively. Elise made a face, but didn’t have an immediate snark. Despite his brute force tactics, sending the shipping outpost into a blind panic was working out surprisingly well.

“Well. It’s a start. But we don’t really have a clear path to the trucks unless-” Elise started to whine. She cut herself off with a pout as the entire base lost power, and they were plunged into even more smothering darkness. She could see Edos smirking at her, and rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go.” he whispered, and slinked down the side of the aluminum roofing with barely a rattle – certainly not audible over the resonant, tectonic rumblings and general clamor around the outpost. Elise jumped down into the mud beside him, and they dashed from corner to corner as she homed in on Izaneus’ Ephemeris signature. She caught a twinkle above them and caught Izzy’s familiar soaring towards them.

The vampire held out her arm for Euphemia to alight on her, even as they continued to sprint towards the central power building.

“We’re fine. Let us handle Izaneus. You need to help Gildarts find us when we get onto a truck.”

The white raven nodded and lurched off into the pouring sky just as they slid to a halt in a small alleyway between the power building and the main gate control center.

“Where is the boy?” Edos rumbled. Elise pointed to the wall in front of them.

“On the other side of this.” the wizard said, beginning to weave her hands into a magical sigil. Hopefully the little squirt wasn’t too close to the wall.

“Kaprik…Ohrn!” she chanted as the corrugated aluminum began to glow. It buckled outwards with a loud ripping sound before bursting in a shower of spinning, metal fragments. A few caught the vampire on her face, and Edos on his chest. Inside the building, Izaneus was busy trying to concoct an escape route when the wall caved outwards in a creaking boom.

“Ack!” he gasped, trying to strangle down a louder scream. In spite of hoping to see his allies, he was still not quite prepared to see a towering leonin reaching for him from the shadows where there had once been a sheet of metal. Nonetheless, the hunter picked him up like a cub and shouldered the younger wizard as Elise turned her attention to the front gate. The power of her Fulminant spellwork faded, and the wall quietly reassembled itself as she sidled towards the edge of the building.

“They said the two trucks in front were heading to the stronghold.” Izaneus murmured after regaining his composure. Elise glanced back at him and nodded before skidding to a muddy stop.

“Shit.” she swore. The gate was just a few meters away, but the trucks were already rolling. There was no way they were going to catch up once the old, beaten haulers got onto the road proper.

“We need to slow them down.” Elise hissed. She glanced at Edos, who had already set Izaneus down and nocked one of his oversized arrows.

“When the pack is fleeing…” the leonin grinned, as his shooting arrow plunged into the drive wheel of the leading truck, “...wing the leading beast.”

Elise gave an appreciative nod as the trailing trucks lurched and slid to a halt in the soaked gravel. The driver of the leading hauler yanked open the door as more Guild workers dashed towards it to assess the situation. Their silhouettes gathered and huddled around in the stark white headlights; the rain kicking up steam from the idling motors.

“We need to hurry. They’ll figure out they’re under attack.” Elise whispered, pointing to the back of the second truck. The hunter patted her on the shoulder as he bolted past on all fours, galloping like a true animal across the cracked and heaving tarmac. The vampire was right behind him – a shadow in the rain – and finally tailed by the panting noble’s son. They vaulted into the back of second truck, and the two living allies panted softly in the muffled blackness.

Elise, however, had her ears pricked, listening to the clamor of the surrounding Guildsmen.

“What is this, an arrow?”

“What?”

“We– It’s a raid! Raid! Someone’s going for the trucks!”

“Ambush!”

“Get that cargo rolling! Move! Go around!”

Their truck roared into gear with an aggressive snarl, and the three stowaways barely caught their balance on the surrounding crates as it veered to roll past the disabled vehicle in front.

“What about Gildarts?” Izaneus finally wheezed.
“I sent Euphemia to fetch him. Hopefully he can find a discreet way of-”

She was cut off as Gildarts came crashing through the canvas canopy of the truck, causing the entire vehicle to shudder and bounce. Her crimson eyes leered down at him as he took a moment to recover from his fall. The second he opened his mouth, she interrupted.

“The fact that you weren’t spotted is nothing short of a miracle.” she said with all of the flat, bitch-factor she could muster.

“Well…ah…let that serve as a lesson to always remember to look up.” Gildarts beamed as Edos helped the magical master to his feet.

“Ahah! Yes, a lesson well taken, earth-shaker!” Edos chuckled.

“A wonderful ploy, yes!” Izaneus chimed in.

Elise utilized her fifth eye-rolling of the evening, and lifted up the canvas flap next to her.

“Before you bros hug it out, remember that we ain’t outta this yet.” she clicked. She could see dense jungle sliding past outside of the hauler, but an unmarked alarm was still ringing in the back of her mind. It was some unaccounted variable she felt like she was missing, or forgetting.

There then came a horrible, shrill screeching, along with a rhythmic, mechanical pounding noise as a massive shape closed in from the forest on either side. Large, red robots the size of a small house and built to resemble giant dinosaurs were sprinting alongside the convoy. Their yellow eyes beamed in the darkness as sizzling claws extended to strike the easy prey.

“Ah right. The trucks left without their armed escort in the confusion.” Elise said to no one in particular. Izaneus and Edos’ eyes went wide as they peeked out of the rear flap. The oversized, saurian mechs were gaining ground.

“What are-” Gildarts began, but Edos was already eager to lament their misfortune.

“Rev Raptors! Massive pests. I can’t tell you how many of my hunts have been ruined by-” the tribesman snarled as he began to line up a shot. Elise touched his arm gently.

“Allow me.” the vampire breathed. She held her hand up, and a crackling lance of red energy swirled into existence above the palm. It bathed the entire back of their truck in an ominous, red glow.

“Do you know the raptors’ weak point?” Edos asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. He lowered his bow and arrows slightly as Elise stepped forward, and took aim.

“Of course I do.” she said in a soft lilting tone. Izaneus recognized it immediately, and tried to intercede the satin malice.

“Wait, Elise don’t do it!” he begged.

“Did it.” she chuckled, and hurled the arcane lance at the windshield of the truck directly behind them. The red bolt impacted with penetrating violence, causing the glass to shatter and the driver to immediately swerve at full speed. The drab-painted truck tipped and rolled immediately, causing the two raptors to halt in their tracks and look back at the wounded prey with hungry eagerness.

The four of them watched in various degrees of horror and satisfaction as the jubilant zoids began hacking the truck to pieces as their own cargo hauler roared farther and farther down the road. Eventually, their truck hit a bend in the road, and the wrecked carnage disappeared from view.

The vampire brushed past her three companions and began to pick out a place she could sleep during the day amidst all of the various boxed treasures. She could feel their eyes on her as she did so, but fuck ‘em.

Fuck ‘em.

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

A hundred thoughts coursed through the youngest Phortea as he stared helplessly at the gruesome carnage before him. Despite his protests, someone had died today, and all he’d done was cry out. Would he say the same, were it Rean on the other side of that? How many lives was it moral to trade for a boy?

He felt himself slump against the truck, and his eyes drift to the floor as a clump of guilt and regret take over him. He felt himself want to speak, but had no words to say. It seemed the others were in a similar situation.

Was it fair for him to rip away the dreams and aspirations of one, their hopes and regrets so frankly? Was it fair for anyone to do that? There were a myriad of situations where he could find it.. Acceptable? Was that the correct term? He couldn’t really think of another.. If he was to be honest. Situations like this one. Exactly, like this one..

He raised himself to the others, Gildarts held a frown he couldn’t read, Elise seemed nonchalant, and he’d be lying if he said he could read the Leonin at all.

Was he the only one who felt like this? This pain deep within his chest that refused to subside, was this due to Naivety? Inexperience? Childishness? Was it more acceptable to feel nothing at all when ending another? That felt… so…

He placed his hands to his head, would that his eyes were open, he would have noticed the darkness beginning to cloud his vision in this moment of weakness.

He sighed, his foot tapping a rhythm into the metal below him. Before he realized that could draw attention, subsequently stopping.

Slowly he exhaled, the stress of the situation was getting to him no doubt. The clock was ticking and that also played a factor into his current mental health. It would be best if he got some sleep.

“Ey’, kid? Y’alright?” Gildarts asked quietly, inquisitive eyes boring into him. Izaneus responded, his voice marginally more monotone than usual. “Peachy..” He stated, his voice hollow.

“I.. think I’m gonna get some sleep, wake me up if there are any developments..”

With a few flaps of her wings, Euphemia coddled up besides him. Which he gingerly grabbed his familiar, and pulled her close, as though she were the only shield of the pains that plagued him. Keeping his eyes closed so his companions couldn’t see how saddened they were at the moment.

With a sigh, he slowly let sleep take him.
-

Only to be woken a few hours later. The orange glint of sunlight on the horizon as they traveled. They hadn’t stopped, which was good, at least. Yet, his eyes still heavy from his rest, he turned to Elise, before remembering the night previous. Izaneus hesitated, before sighing. It was fine. It was fine. She did the right thing. Their pursuer could have alerted more people had he been left alive, or continued his chase.

She did the right thing… Izaneus was just making too big a deal out of it.

“Elise, what’s going-” He began, before she covered his mouth with a pale hand, pointing up to the tarped cover of their truck. A shadowy figure, standing still on four spindly limbs that seemed to encompass the entire cover of their vehicle. Two white orbs that glowed slightly through the thick fabric that sheltered each of them from the weather. As soon as Izaneus had made eye contact, the figure vanished into what shadow remained through the morning.

Yet, he could feel its presence, somewhere very close.
Elise looked around briefly, Her eyes tracing the truck and its inhabitants. She debated placing an Ephemeris sigil down. But quickly surmised that it would be too flashy for their covert attempts thus far. Especially when they wanted to keep on the down low for the rest of the ride..
Letting go of Izaneus, she briefly motioned for him to stay quiet. Before sighing herself. “ Guess dude just wanted a look at something..” She breathed out, wondering why he'd just been standing up there..

Izaneus quickly questioned the validity of her statement. “...Dude? It was a person?” He asked quietly, his voice almost being drowned out in the thrum of the truck engine. Elise squinted at the younger mage, her eyes looking over his expression. “ Yeah.. Why? See somethin different?” She asked, watching as his glowing eyes took on a slight shadow behind their light.

Izaneus sensed he’d said something either interesting, worrying, or both to the vampire.

“I…” He stuttered, which told Elise all she needed to hear.

“..I getcha.” Was all she said, an awkward silence fell upon the truck, the hum of the engine, and tires against earth was all to be heard.

After the last couple of days, Izaneus couldn’t tell what Elise was thinking, right now, he wasn’t completely sure he wanted to.

 

[Gildarts]

Gildarts, the type of old guy who simultaneously seemed like he was napping and indeed was napping, but also not quite fully. Being that he was aware of his surroundings while his mind was turned almost completely off. The type of security that was a forcefield of awareness that left his body and muscles at complete ease. Placid in a state of serenity, as though always waiting within the calm before the storm.

This hyper-aware napper’s eyes were closed as his neck crooked back at an ungodly angle that it might just snap from the sheer gravity hanging over him. He’d be stiff when he woke up, if he bothered to notice its sensation.

He slept as though he hadn’t nearly blown the entire mission, he slept like he wasn’t claustrophobic in a bumpy truck, and above all, he slept like an old man. Age had taken him for quite a tumble, he had never slept without even the vaguest of dreams before. Somehow, within the silent darkness of his mind.

He wondered what the silence was trying to tell him. He considered the consequences that even finding out would have.

It was hard for Elise to deny that the angle of the elder mage’s neck was taunting her. His jugular hidden under a silver sheen of prickle, next to the same chords that held his aged gruffness. Izzy’s eyes caught her curiously, Elise felt a huff form within her lungs and twisted her chin away icily.

He couldn’t possibly think she’d be that foolish -though she had been caught thinking about it- what Izzy didn’t understand was that she hadn’t been thinking about that but rather, that neck protruding there was a constant reminder of what she was. Something inextricably bound to her fate, but mostly just inescapable for the moments like this when things were supposed to be passing away against time and a neck could not simply be just a neck.

One might think that since Gildarts appeared the oldest, he would be the first to die. Sure, simple survival and human logic may have taken people to that irrevocable fact. However, it was because he was this old (however long that exactly was) and he’d survived this long and proved that he had more fight in them than all of them combined.

Still Elise was running this operation and she appreciated how he did not flex his charisma in a tactic to usurp her, nor doubt her authority. He understood the chain of command.

In the darkness of the night, where thoughts swirled all around. Izzy was next. He should’ve been more angry at Elise, but he was just trying to protect her secret too and allay any suspicion. Therefore, he was not mad. Their gaze had been directed at the veteran warrior. His gaze had wandered to the leonin.

Both the other males could have been brothers, if one was not so very lionlike. Edos slept in a different way, one that made the young Phorteas think that he was not wholly asleep, despite those steady unrapid bellows of air huffing in and out of the cat’s nostrils. Yes, both of them emanated a brutality that stayed with them while they slept. If he had to describe it it must’ve been that of a true warrior’s mark. Words put to it were simply, “You better not fuck with me while I’m sleeping.”

Izzy found an ounce of a smile protruding on his lips at that, he hadn’t found a thought that accurate for awhile. He wondered, even if vaguely if he would ever inherit this quality as he aged. His eyes hovered over Edos’s shoulder muscles, surely forged by eons of pressure and compared them to his own. He had toted heavy tomes in his day but no matter how many books he couldn’t help but to give up his fantasy then and there. Neither of the opposing mages had muscles because of books.

Because of his observation skills, he noticed as Gildarts shuddered himself awake. The mage looked down, placing his fraternal twin hands against his body. As though pressing in stuffing from the stitching of a plush toy. Izzy would not begin to know how very apt this analysis was had he seen beyond the man’s bandaged torso.

The weight of frustration fell against the battlemage’s lips in the uneasy thin line he was getting used to seeing. However, there was something else. Gildarts remained looking down at his torso. Izzy’s gaze eventually followed.

Donned over Gil’s shoulders was a ragged black cloak, a small crack parting down the middle. Between the two lines of fabric each of them saw it. The faint hue of pale light before Gildarts immediately stood up and cast his cape over to mask the entire trace of light.

Izzy had not seen its particular source, however he knew magic when he saw it. Worse still, as the silver-haired mage began to leave from sight there was a flurry of worry in his eyes. Izaneus considered this briefest of expressions, worry from a man who had likely seen it all. Worry felt more potent than fear would have in the man’s dark eyes. For fear would have placed a name on whatever the light was.

This worry however, had left it unnamed.

…

Alone, separated by the open-backed tarped truck, Gildarts let his haunches lean against the back of the metal frame. Gildarts then began to fall into the ferocious fit of a cough that he quickly stifled the sound of.

One that left the remainder of his ribs fighting against his lungs. It went on, he staggered then felt his sitting bones fall against cold metal. It was night, they were the last and one of the few trucks that had made it out. No trucks were behind him, the night gave him ample shadow to lurk in. No vantage point would’ve given his position to the front driver, the corners and size of the truck were too strong.

He wondered if his need for fresh air had called attention to the anomaly the kid saw, or if it garnered more anger from Elise. Still, he’d checked the surroundings before creeping into the gentle chill of the night.

Now, certain no one was watching, he faced away from their stashed position inside, finally able to behold the patterns of light that protruded from his scars. They glittered unfiltered as he lifted his robe away, like incandescent Kintsugi. The light parting through the healed flesh of old scars.

One burned stronger than the others, beneath the muffling gauze. The glow of the old vow he had never broken despite the war time had waged on him. His tattoo, the one that lay at the top of his peck just over his heart. Fingertips curled to peel back the layers of fabric away, to see the full truth of this unnatural and mystical glow.

It was bright azul, much like a spell-caster’s glow and it would’ve been beautiful under any other circumstances. If he had known what was going on with his body. Not knowing made the pale illumination burn like a wretched omen. There was a tingling sensation and then the undefined light vanished as soon as it had appeared.

His jaw clenched even more that the light had stopped. No sigh of relief, instead the mage pulled his chin slowly up and looked at the moving treeline of possibilities among the unending twirl of road. Who could be out there? Who was watching him? Cursing him? What did they want? How many times would God send someone to steal his soul?

An exhale of steam blew into the night air and the truck’s motion chucked the slaps of semi-warm air back into his face.

The notion that the light could’ve been some sort of prophetic telling of his fate, or his very demise calling him back from another realm seemed foolish but it was the first clue his mind arrested. His teeth grit against the unanswered why that he tasted with bitterness on his tongue. Somehow, he felt it was all connected.

The man of little possession pulled out a small piece of wood from his baggy shorts’ pocket. His fingertip ran over the inscription. There was no sensation of magic from the word he couldn’t let go. However, somehow, the word marked him as did the wrinkles on his face.

Everything he had ever touched knew him as a stranger. He began to cast a look over his shoulder, his honey radiant eyes were dismal and lonely. Soon, this group would forget his name too.

A thorn pricked his mind as the glance he’d cast back to them netted him a single set of eyes.

It was the boy. Peering through the tarp, just a few feet away, their shoulders were near adjacent to one another. Gil was unsurprised, since he’d been the only one to notice the glow. Of course the young man’s curiosity might carve his mind with enough questions to push him to come out in the total dark.

He did not turn around, in the old-timer’s experience the questions always came regardless.
…

Izzy’s eyes had left Edos who had fur that was left unruffled by the sudden movement, nor even a few twinges in his slumbering slits of eyes. The blond spellcaster had exchanged a look at Elise, who he could see from her eyes had not seen what he had.

Before he had realized he had, he stood up. Then followed him out the back. Initially unsure what Gil was intending to do out there, or if he’d jumped off the truck completely.

Silence clung to the unease of the night as it seemed even in waking, even under the crumble of earth beneath them. The mage was a hyper-aware force of nature and his eyes had peeled into the boy’s very existence the second he’d even considered nearing the outside. Not that Iz was trying to be stealthy, however he had hoped to at least be unnoticed so his presence wouldn’t feel so intrusive to the old man’s solitude.

Gildarts leaned his back against the truck, having seen the boy and not bothering to twist his whole head around again.

It wasn’t an entirely cold shoulder, even still Iz had a tough time getting out all the words he meant to say. “What’s…”

“Wrong with me?” Gildarts answered with a bit more frustration than the youth was expecting. His disgruntled words seemed to lack a target and instead painfully oozed between them.

Iz would’ve gone with, ‘What’s with those lights? You know, the ones coming out of your skin?’ but hadn’t managed to get very far with this thought. Worse still, it seemed to be a sore spot for the old man. This had already started out poorly.

Gildarts exhaled a cold spray of fog again, he hadn’t meant to snap to himself with the kid around. No matter how he tried to justify it within himself, he couldn’t. So instead, he opted for penance, the truth he didn’t want to tell, let alone admit to a fellow wizard.

“I’ll share the little I know about my condition, but only under a few simple terms. It just depends how curious you are about it,” Or how much you want to know the truth about me.

“Oh I… Didn’t mean to come off-” Izzy began, “I wasn’t trying to snoop. I was just concerned.” And okay, yes a little curious about magic lights coming out of your also very magical body. “If you don’t want to then-”

The elder light out a long sigh, one that matched that of a school-teacher who’d been teaching long past retirement. The unspoken terms were a bit inferred, the separation from the group even by a tarp and his hushed voice noted the confidence of a secret within his whisper to Izzy. “I don’t know what they are. I feel like I should, but I don’t.” His words were cautious, not quite full of shame but embarrassed enough Iz could tell he didn’t want to utter them a second time.

“Huh.” Iz blinked, no questions were asked and no root answers given. This was the dissatisfaction of education, folks. “Well uh, I could take a look at them if you want?”

“Perhaps another time,” Gildarts uttering soundlessly, respectfully declined.

Izzy tried to put himself in the battlemage’s position. Not quite hostile, however certainly closed off. He tried to imagine being an elite battlemage, in the way Gildarts seemed to walk without any arrogance, but hardly omitting his ego told of some sort of code or respect. To be both wise and gutsy, as well as suave and still despite it all, not knowing who’d cursed him. Perhaps over his lifetime he’d netted too many enemies. Imagine that, on top of this, not knowing what they had done to him at all. Certainly, it would be a sore spot for anyone, let alone a seasoned mage.

But now, Izzy knew what the mage was seeking. At least he had questions that could eventually lead him to where to look.

Gil knew it was connected, somehow to that building. Somehow to the murder he’d stumbled upon but couldn’t stop. That there was a plot looming above him, surrounding him like a black hole threatening to suck him in, not only was his fate eventual but unfortunately it was happening whether or not he walked faster toward his demise or away from it.

He had the haggard look of a man who had read all the books he had wanted to in his lifetime, yet life was still reading to him. The sound of everything happening was deafening to the youth of the world. Ample ears of a hound on a case were those of discernment.

However, there was something on his mind. If he was rendered useless and could no longer chase the ghostlike clues, would he die with the mystery unsolved? He thought of his face, first in the pool, then in the bathroom. Every time he saw his new reflection he wanted to look away. Every time he saw himself, he saw what the world must think of him.

…

A small amount of time lapsed in the silence between them.

Who’re we supposed to meet now? The dragon? Or was it someone or something else? He wasn’t sure, the plan was loosely going accordingly. However, his mind was blurring still from the disarray within. He could only anticipate within moments these days, especially given this unexpected wrench in his day.

His magic was growing stiff in his cold body brushed by the night, he stretched out an arm and felt the warmth of motion flood across his torso. The prod of an instinct tanged at his surroundings. The appraisal was quick and divisive. They hadn’t been noticed, so then, something was amiss or changing.

“We’ve got to go.” Gildarts said mid-stretch looking undisturbed and grabbed the back of Izzy’s night-shaded cloak and without a second word, tugged.

Izzy with the shock clogging his airways held the question, “What?” in his mouth as Gildarts launched into an ungodly jump away from the truck. One similar to the gravity jump he’d done earlier perhaps. It hadn’t swayed the truck as they wagged across the sky in a long arc.

Izzy sensed a bolt of worry as their two sets of feet stamped into the ground. Had Gildarts set a trap to try and isolate him from the party? Was he really being kidnapped? Could he manage to defeat the battlemage on his own?

Gildarts however, was not looking at Izzy, his dark gaze shrouded now by the stealth of a nearby tree limb while the youth was struggling to balance in his sudden place on the barky bough.

Pine needles tickled his nose and the Phorteas youth saw Gildarts return a random piece of wood into his pocket. Suspicion solidified, however as it did, Izzy’s pale gaze pulled away from the harsh intensity of the battlemage and noticed their former truck pulling into a large lot bordering the edge of a cave at the base of an equally rocky mountain.

“Now, what do you think about that? We’ve arrived.” Gil announced ominously, Iz caught the gleam of excitement in his highly focused amber eyes.

“What about the others?” Izzy mouthed, feeling grateful Gildarts hadn’t plucked them away with the attempt to grinding him into the earth he’d formerly rattled.

“They’ll find their way out. We’ve got a good vantage point here for now and unfortunately because of my woes, we’re separated yet again. Still, we can keep a birds’ eye view, count how many trucks made it this far and well, appraise our chances that all that we’re waiting for is inside. One interesting thing to note, that’s a natural cave. Maybe their ungodly trucks can’t make it through the mouth of it.” Gildarts smirked at this, a petty trouble he never had to deal with and still an inside joke, party of one. Doors.

Izzy knew he was right and he also knew, Elise was either biting her lip, rolling her eyes, or kicking the duo in her mind right now.