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The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing [Tales of Berseria/Zestiria]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by CloudFry, Aug 22, 2019.

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  1. CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Hah, a good point, perhaps most heros just don't have the stones to do what needs to be done.

    Ah, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Where does one draw the line between good and evil at that point? Bending the world to one's will while meaning to save it... Sounds more like Artorius to me. But who's to say?

    Sides, I would imagine Sorey just isn't that sorta guy right now... But perhaps he should be.
     
  2. Threadmarks: C24 - Omen
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 24 – Omen.

    “Could I ask you something, Velvet?”

    “No.”

    “But-”

    “I’m not answering another one of your stupid questions.” She let out a long-suffering sigh of irritation, crossing her arms while tapping a finger on her arm. “You’ve been pestering me non-stop ever since we left Ladylake, and I’ve answered plenty already,” she growled dangerously. “Drop it.”

    The Shepherd rallied valiantly in the face of the raven-haired woman’s horrible glare.

    “Please, Velvet!” he appealed, holding up the Celestial Record with a well-meaning, earnest smile. “What you’ve experienced long ago from a human perspective 1,000 years ago has the potential to become the most important findings of the century! Think of all of the information you remember from your time that might lead to monumental breakthroughs to current modern theories of that era! What you’ve already told me, the prominence of naval powers, the heightened human technology, the layout of the landmasses, all of it-!”

    “Was far more than I should have fed your insufferable curiosity,” she interrupted shortly, her left eyebrow subtly twitching in irritation as she turned away from the buzzing Shepherd towards the soft glow of the sunset.

    The crunching of the group’s footsteps on well-worn dirt was repetitive constant as they continuously climbed the mountainous trail, following the beaten trading path into the hilly regions with the setting sun to their side. A grand vista of rolling hills, untouched forests, and vast plains laid before them all; a picture of pure wilderness doused with the golden rays of the vibrant setting sun. A breathtaking view of natural splendor.

    And then there was Sorey’s face, blotting out the sun with his obnoxious grin.

    “You mentioned the capital had stone walls to keep out hellions, right? Do you think you could give me an estimate of how high those walls were, what kind of battlements were at top, and what kind of mixture was used to adhere the stones together?”

    He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side, bringing a single finger up to his lips. “...As it stands now, current academic research of the Graceful Asgard Period seems to support the theory of simpler, more utilitarian architecture than modern day buildings. If it’s true that the capital of that time period was designed with such elaborate designs...” He refocused his eyes on Velvet; stars in his eyes. “That might even mean the complete disruption of a key period in human architectural history! Seriously, Velvet, you have to tell me-!”

    Her left hand twitched murderously.

    As the Shepherd continue to natter on and on about the most obscure faucets of history to the therion silently stewing in mounting irritation, Lailah and Edna exchanged amused smiles.

    The fire seraph let out a soft sigh, her long hair waving amidst the gentle light of the streaks of gold in the sky behind her. “...How relieved I am that everything seems to have worked out between the two of them,” she expressed warmly. “I suppose it was silly of me to doubt Sorey. He knew what he felt was right and acted upon his convictions, no matter how uncertain it seemed.”

    Edna’s boots crunched repetitively upon the well-trodden dirt underfoot as she walked alongside the prime lord watching Sorey and Velvet up ahead on the mountain trail. “I guess they did end up sorting themselves out. Even if it did take forever.” She turned and raised a keen eyebrow at the other seraph. “Besides, it looks like they’re not the only ones who did.” she added observantly.

    Lailah’s smile stayed as she bobbed her head in affirmation, her expression soft as she laced her fingertips together before her. “In the end, it seems that what I had considered as evil was in reality not so certain.” Her voice was warm. “I had never truly considered what he had meant when he said those words that one time, long ago.”

    Her gaze drifted off to the side towards the setting sun, sadness falling upon her gaze. “Now, after all this time... I believe I finally do,” she concluded gently.

    At her side, Edna tapped her closed umbrella rhythmically on the dirt in tune with her steps as she walked. “’He’ meaning Maotelus, huh?” she surmised.

    Somewhere amongst the chaparral of the mountainside, a bird warbled a hypnotic call endlessly into the golden air of the setting sun. After a pause, the earth seraph turned to glance at the other, tilting her head inquisitively. “...You never did tell me what the deal was between you and Maotelus,” she noted aloud with a slight, curious inflection to her words.

    She belatedly realized her mistake the second Lailah jerked around with a manic, wide-eyed expression on her face, gleefully clapping her hands beside her cheek. “What would you say is a raisin’s biggest shame?” she crowed.

    “That it could never rise to grapeness!”

    Lailah held her stance happily in the wake of her words, frozen in place while her eyes darted around to take in the reactions of her audience. The entire group including Velvet and Sorey had all stopped in their tracks to stare flatly at her, save for Edna, who had simply kept walking.

    “Sorry I asked,” the seraph muttered lowly as she tromped irritably past Sorey and Velvet.

    The Shepherd chuckled as he too turned away from the pouting Lailah, following Edna in her trek up the mountain trail alongside Velvet. “Guess some things never change,” he supposed wryly, perfunctorily sliding the Celestial Record shut and returning it to his pack for safekeeping.

    Watching him out of the corner of her eye, the therion raised an eyebrow when she noted just how neat and organized Sorey’s pack was as he eased his precious copy of the weathered tome inside. She let out a self-satisfied huff and glanced away with a slight incline on her lips. “That they don’t.”

    Their shadows striding across the dirt and shrubbery to their left continued to grow longer and longer with each step as the distant sun continued to dip below the horizon, accompanied by a noticeable decrease in the surrounding temperature. A chilly autumn breeze briefly touched upon the mountainside, sending welcome chills down their spines as they continued their hike up the trail. All around, crickets began to come to life, singing their repetitive songs come the passing of the day.

    “Say, Velvet?” Sorey prompted softly, drawing the therion’s attention. He returned her inquisitive gaze with a well-meaning gesture. “I’ve been meaning to ask this. Why do you... want to save Maotelus?”

    He winced at how blunt his words sounded. “I-it’s just, you’ve done and gone through so much for him and I just was wondering if you... had a reason, that’s all...” His words trailed off hesitantly.

    Her steel boots crunched repetitively in the dirt in the brief silence that followed. She soon replied with a callous wave of her hand. “’Why would a Lord of Calamity want to save an Empyrean,’ right?” she presumed with an uncaring shrug of her shoulders.

    At those words, the Shepherd frowned and crossed his arms, turning his gaze forward. The chirping of the crickets in the surrounding golden shrubbery echoed in his ears as the words of a strange seraph suddenly came to mind.

    “’The roles we play in this life are up to nobody else but ourselves.’” His distant eyes reflected the gentle sunset beyond the distant horizon as he stared out into the distance. “I don’t think it matters at all what people used to call you. Names are just names, after all – there’s nothing special about them.” He gestured reasonably with his hands in the air. “When I look at you, I don’t see some fabled monster from legend or anything. Just someone who cares deeply about someone, that’s all,” he finished with a gentle smile.

    The crunching of their boots on dirt continued in the aftermath of his words. The indistinct voices of Rose and Alisha floated out into the cooling air as the two chatted about some topic in the distance behind them.

    “...Looks like I did a good job after all.”

    Velvet’s voice was laced with amusement as she crossed her arms, staring forward down the path before them. “Properly twisted that naïve boy in a fancy costume calling himself the Shepherd,” she remarked, her voice dry with self-satisfaction.

    Sorey let out an uncertain laugh, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “W-well, I don’t think anything about that has really changed, technically speaking...” He shook his head, his expression growing contemplative.

    “But... I suppose it’s true,” he agreed, “I don’t think the old me would have realized something like that.”

    She let her arms fall back to her sides she continued to walk by his side, her eyes growing distant as she let herself fall back into the stale memories gathering in her head. The crunching of dirt underneath their footfalls continued unerringly in the silence. Somewhere beyond the rising slope of the mountain, a wild animal uttered a strange call that rang out hauntingly amidst the chilling air.

    “...Maotelus saved my life.” Her words were soft as she maintained her stride, absently holding her hands together before her. “More than once, actually. He was the same – didn’t care what I was called, nor did he care about what I was. All he wanted was to chart his own course through life. And what he decided to do was to follow me to the end, regardless of what happened.”

    Sorey watched as she moved her arms, absently tugging at a stray strand of bandage from her disguised left arm with a surprisingly gentle expression on her face. “After all he’s done for me, it’s only right that I return the favor,” she concluded with a firm tug on her bandaged arm. “That’s all.”

    He nodded slowly in the wake of her words. “...I see,” he replied sagely. “I figured it was something like that.”

    Velvet raised an eyebrow at him. “That so?”

    The Shepherd gave the therion a boyish grin in return. “Well, you might look and act kinda scary at times, but you really do have a gentle side to you, Velvet.” He smiled, adjusting the straps of the travel pack strapped onto his back. “In a way, it all makes total sense that the reason why you did all that you did was because you just wanted to help a friend.”

    Her boots clinked rhythmically as she continued to walk, mutely glancing away from the smiling Shepherd to instead gaze outwards towards the fading light of the sun. “If you say so.”

    A forebodingly familiar glint slowly began to creep into Sorey’s eyes as a thought crossed his mind.

    Slowly, carefully, the Shepherd angled his steps so as to slowly get closer to her atop the mountainous path. “I uh, don’t suppose you could do the same for me?” he began with a hopeful, innocent smile. “If you could perhaps listen to a couple of my theories, you’d be a real lifesaver-”

    SQUELCH.

    The entire group came to an abrupt halt as the disgusting, yet familiar sound resounded into the surroundings accompanied by a subtle wave of malevolence that dissipated into the chilly autumn air. Seraphim and humans alike turned to stare as Velvet slowly came to a standstill, her long raven hair blocking her lowered expression from sight as her enormous extruded claw dangled loosely by her side.

    Sorey swallowed, his pulse suddenly quickening as a creeping feeling inched up the back of his neck. He took a step back away from the deathly still hellion, his boots crunching deafeningly amidst the eerie silence.

    “Velvet?” he asked nervously. “Are you...”

    “DEVOUR!”

    A very undignified noise escaped Sorey as he dove out of the way of the therion’s sudden and violent lunge, the sweep of her enormous claw barely clearing his frantically flapping cloak. With panic in his eyes and his heart racing at a thousand beats per minute, Sorey rolled to the side upon impact on the ground, barely managing to dodge the lightning-fast stab of Velvet’s gauntlet blade. The razor-sharp metal slammed into the dirt so hard it sent sparks flying into the air.

    “W-wait, Velvet!” he cried with wide eyes, scrambling backwards and throwing his hands up into the air. “Let’s talk about-Whoa!”

    He let out a panicked yelp and wrenched his sword out of its scabbard just in time to parry the woman’s flurry of strikes from both gauntlet and boot blade, losing ground all the while. Then, her enormous claw whipped around and tore a deep gouge into his hastily formed barrier of mana, unceremoniously tossing him like a doll into the nearby chaparral.

    CRASH!

    Sorey let out an involuntary groan as he rolled to a halt, covered in torn-up dirt and foliage and staring blearily at his approaching attacker.

    Velvet’s eyes glowed a violent shade of red as she deliberately stretched her neck, her sword and her claw held menacingly at her sides and a self-indulgent smile on her face. “Did you think that once you knew my identity that you could get sloppy?” Her boots clinked noisily upon the dirt as she stalked towards the ditch of disrupted dirt and plants where the Shepherd laid. “You’re still my tool.”

    Her eyes bulged violently. “And don’t you forget it!”

    With that she lunged forward with inhuman strength, her hair and jacket flaring up behind her like the wings of a demon. Sorey let out a panicked cry and scrambled out of the way, desperately using an arte to block against the fiery explosion that followed her impact.

    Mikleo’s eyes were wide and horrified as he charged towards the site of the explosion, adrenaline surging through his veins as he gripped the casting staff in his hands. “Sorey!” he yelled, skidding to a halt and taking in the horrifying sight of his friend fighting off single-handedly against the hellion atop the hillside. “What the hell is she doing?!”

    “My...”

    Mikleo was forced to do a double take at the sight of Lailah’s admiring expression. “To think that Sorey would ask Velvet for a training session... even after such a long day!” the fire seraph remarked with a proud smile. “His diligence and dedication truly is becoming of a Shepherd.”

    Mikleo’s eyes were wide. “What the hell are you talking about?!” he demanded incredulously as another explosion rattled the mountainside under their feet. “Sorey’s being attacked!”

    “Don’t be such a drama queen,” Rose dismissed at length, uncrossing her arms to stretch them over her head with a lazy yawn. “Velvet’s just letting off a little steam on him. It’ll be good practice for them both.” She gestured with her hands towards the movements of the two fighters with an observant eye. “...Besides,” she added, “it sure looks like this sort of thing isn’t new for either of them.”

    Alisha’s armor clinked as she came to a halt beside them, tilting her head to the side curiously at the sight of the Shepherd barely managing to fend off the attacks of the relentless hellion off the beaten path. “Such an intense training session reminds me of my own such sessions with Lady Maltran.” She glanced off to the side; a subtly nostalgic look on her face. “How my body would ache after such battles... Truly, such methods are the best ways to learn.”

    Mikleo’s eye twitched as Sorey let out another panicked yelp in the distance, followed by an ear-splitting crash. “...That’s does it,” he concluded, throwing his hands up in the air. “You guys are all nuts.”

    “Just figuring that out now, huh?” Dezel muttered, crossing his arms as he watched the fight unfold.

    A series of metal clangs resounded into the air with split-second intervals as the two combatants exchanged blows in the blink of an eye, Sorey barely managing to keep up with the whirling chaos of Velvet’s sword style. The exchange ended as she leapt up into the air, twisting around in the air to bring her claw around to bear. The Shepherd was hard-pressed to dodge out of the way.

    BOOM!

    As the shockwave thrummed underneath their feet, Edna twirled her umbrella and turned away from the spectacle. “I’m hungry,” she blandly announced, stepping directly up to the first person she laid her eyes on. “You. Make me something, now.”

    Mikleo let out an exhausted sigh. “Why me?” he groaned.

    Rose shrugged, turning away from the battle as well while glancing at the setting sun in the distance. “Suppose now is as good as any to make camp. I’m beat!” she groaned, stepping off towards a flat section of land.

    Lailah covered her smile with her hand. “Not all of us have the strength and vitality of those two,” she remarked with amusement. “Let us rest here for tonight.”

    “A perfectly acceptable arrangement to me.” Alisha agreed readily, carefully lowering her travelling pack to the ground with a soft sigh. “I’m quite ready for some good food after a long day’s travel.” She flashed an eager smile in Mikleo’s direction. “I’ll be looking forward to what you decide to make tonight, Mikleo!” she promised.

    As the rest of the group walked off towards the suitable camping spot, Mikleo remained, a pained look on his face as he watched the hellion continue to assault his childhood friend. “Sorry, Sorey...” he muttered before setting off to go prepare dinner for the rest of the group.

    The Shepherd’s yelps of panic continued long after the sun had set in the distant horizon.

    ---​

    The small fire underneath the partially empty cooking pot crackled quietly, what little light it provided serving to hold the encroaching darkness surrounding the campsite at bay. Beyond the motionless shrubs surrounding the patch of level dirt, crickets sang in abundance amidst the darkened hillside, further isolating the group in their lone patch of light amidst a sea of solitude.

    A weak, tired breath escaped Sorey as he slumped to the ground before the campfire, wincing with each slight jostle of his limbs.

    The fiend that had done this to him stepped up and sat down beside him, calmly and wordlessly reaching forward to partake in the leftover soup in the pot. There was a rare sort of tranquility upon her expression as she did so, with a look of satisfaction at a lesson having been successfully dealt.

    Mikleo mutely passed a bowl to the disabled Sorey, who glumly muttered his thanks and accepted it with a wince.

    The sound of their spoons scraping against the wooden bowls filled the silence as the two ate, the rest of the group resting around the campfire in a companionable silence, listening to the sounds of the surrounding wilderness. Amidst them all, the campfire continued to burn, letting out soft pops as the fuel was slowly consumed.

    “Everyone, I would like to say something.”

    The group turned curiously as Lailah straightened in her seat, visibly steeling herself with an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face. Her hands gathered together in her lap as she moved her gaze, meeting the eyes of everyone amassed before her. “The terms of my oath,” she declared soberly. “I have decided it is time to announce them.”

    Edna’s eyes narrowed as she cast a meaningful glance at the seraph over the simmering pot atop the campfire. “...Sure you wanna do that?” she asked.

    “Right,” Rose agreed with a frown, readjusting her legs in front of her as she leant forward. “Lailah, we kinda already figured what you can and can’t say anyways,” she pointed out. “You don’t have to do this if it puts you in any kind of danger.”

    “No,” Lailah replied, shaking her head resolutely. “In truth, this has been something that I should have been more forthright with ever since...” She trailed off, glancing across the fire at the lone hellion in their midst.

    “Ever since she said she wanted to save Maotelus, right?” Dezel finished, leaning forward in his cross-legged seat before the fire. A strand of tall grass twirled steadily in his gloved hand as he angled his head in the seraph’s direction. “Don’t worry, it’s pretty obvious that Maotelus is what your oath is about.”

    The soft orange glow of the cackling fire glinted in Velvet’s amber eyes as she carefully studied the mute prime lord in the wake of Dezel’s words. “I assume you won’t answer if I asked you how you came to be the keeper of Maotelus’s power, Lailah?” she asked quietly.

    Lailah shook her head again, a sad look on her face as she returned Velvet’s knowing gaze. “...You are correct,” she replied softly. She turned her gaze back over towards Dezel, quietly threading her hands together in her lap as she took a calming breath. The crackling of the fire and the chirping of the surrounding crickets continued amidst the deepening night.

    “In truth, the terms of my oath are thus,” she stated. “As the holder of the sacred flames of purification, I am to never reveal the reasons for how this arrangement came to be.”

    Sorey listened on curiously, absently setting his empty bowl down on the dirt before him. Beside him, Velvet shifted in her seat, curling a leg up against her chest and resting her hands atop her knee.

    Staring into the dying flames with a sad, disquiet expression on her face, Lailah continued, “Should I desire to maintain the oath, I must refrain from discussing any topics that may relate to the string of events that led to its existence, no matter how obscure the connection.” She tore her eyes away from the flames to give them all a deeply apologetic look. “That is what I must do, no matter how of use that information would be to you all. For what it is worth, I am truly sorry for keeping secrets.”

    Sorey shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his face. “Don’t sweat it, Lailah. If anything, it’s we who should be thanking you. Without your powers of purification, we’d be in a rough spot when it came to Heldalf and Maotelus.” He held her gaze kindly, his sad smile soft in the light of the fire.

    Edna’s spoon clacked against wood as she returned it to the partially full bowl in her hands. “It’s no big deal, Lailah,” she commented, swirling the spoon in the bowl. “In terms of secrets being kept, you don’t hold a candle to this one.” She punctuated her statement by pointing a spoonful of prickleboar stew directly at Velvet.

    The therion shrugged easily in response. “I won’t deny it.” She slowly raised her head, sweeping her gaze across the rest of the seraphim and humans arranged around the fire. “But since we’re on the subject, I suppose I have something to say as well.”

    Her gaze returned to the fire before her.

    “...What I know of what happened to Maotelus came from an acquaintance,” she began, idly running her left thumb down the length of her fingers. “She didn’t know the specifics, but what she did know was enough for me to see that the only chance I would have to save him would be by using the Shepherd.”

    Alisha drew her legs closer to her in her seat, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “’Heldalf is holding Maotelus.’ Those were your words when we fought,” she remembered. She tilted her head to the side inquisitively. “How could an empyrean, the strongest of the five, I am told, be controlled?”

    The therion’s expression was distant. “Malevolence,” she replied shortly. “Once he was corrupted, he no longer acted like himself.” Propped up atop her bent knee, her left hand had curled into a tight fist.

    Across the fire, Edna looked away, averting her expression from the light.

    Crossing his arms while shifting forward in his seat, Mikleo frowned in thought. “...Then,” he summarized, “Heldalf took advantage of that and brought him under his control. So not even the almighty Five Lords are immune to malevolence.” His frown deepened as he brought this gaze up towards the hardened woman. “...Did your ‘acquaintance’ have more to say?”

    Velvet turned her head and met his gaze. “Like I said, she knew only what she herself had gathered over the past few years.” She shook her head, frowning in frustration. “I don’t know what happened that led to Maotelus’s corruption. I don’t know how it was Heldalf brought him under his control either. All I know is that he is no longer himself, and that he’s being controlled against his will.”

    Her hands curled into fists as she glared at the fire before her. “...That’s something that I will never allow,” she growled. “Not in a thousand years.” Fury glowed in her eyes as she stared at the blaze, her anger intensifying as she thought back to who ‘Maotelus’ really was to her.

    The one who had saved her.

    Sitting across the flames to her, Dezel uncrossed his arms with a grunt. “...That’s all we have to go with?” he muttered. “Something somebody said without mentioning a speck of detail?”

    His words drew Velvet’s gaze onto him. “If you’re worried about the credibility of my sources, don’t be,” she replied with a wave of her hand, a dry smile creeping into her expression. “Compared to her, you’re a just a runt.”

    Dezel floundered in an attempt to find a response to that. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” he eventually demanded.

    Rose’s chuckling filled the night air as she leaned over, nudging the indignant wind seraph with her elbow. “Does wittle Wezel want to throw a temper tantrum?” she cooed.

    Dezel’s hackles rose automatically. “Knock it off!” he snapped, jerking away from the pest as best he could. In doing so, he inadvertently slammed his shoulder right into the person sitting next to him, knocking her clean over and sending the bowl in her hands flying clean into the air.

    A disgusting splat rang out into the campsite as the slopping brown liquid landed atop Edna right as she was steadying herself on the ground, having been pushed over by Dezel’s shoulder. A lone trail of salty soup dripped lazily down the middle of her forehead, splitting in half at the bridge of her nose to run down her cheeks.

    She turned to look at Dezel with a disquiet expression.

    Plonk!

    The group winced as the wooden bowl finally finished its graceful arc into the air, somehow managing to land directly upside down atop Edna’s head like a hat. Her expression remained unchanged as she continued to stare unnervingly at the offender.

    Dezel gulped loudly in the deafening silence that had fallen. “S-sorry,” he grunted weakly, straightening back up in his seat. “I didn’t...”

    Edna didn’t react at all to his words, continuing to stare emotionlessly at him all the while the soup trailed down her matted hair. The crackling of the nearby flame continued amidst the deathly silence, giving the air an ominous undercurrent.

    Like a rat abandoning a sinking ship, Rose not-so-subtly scooted away from Dezel, exchanging a wide-eyed look with Alisha as she came to a stop by her side. Lailah shared a look with Mikleo before both of them similarly retreated as far away as they could.

    Amidst the silence, Sorey cleared his throat while glancing to his side. “Is he...?”

    “He’s dead.” Velvet’s response was matter of fact.

    Dezel glanced incredulously from across the fire at all of them. “What are all of you...?” he began.

    “You...”

    A shiver of terror ran down his spine at the sound of the deceptively quiet growl, barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire. He turned to face Edna’s glare, her eyes slowly growing wider and wider in fury. Her gloves squeaked in agony as the seraph squeezed her fists tighter and tighter as if to wring an invisible man’s neck.

    BANG!

    The surge of mana was Dezel’s only warning before the world erupted violently with razor-sharp blades of earth, slicing up into the air to rend him to pieces. He barely managed to flash out of the way with the aid of his wind artes, only to lunge backwards in a series of acrobatics as more stalagmites erupted violently underfoot.

    The ground trembled in terror as Edna slowly stood up, her clothes flapping in the artificial winds and a noticeable golden glow in her eyes as raging power surged through her. Still wearing the slopping overturned bowl for a hat, the enraged spirit let out a cry of fury as she slammed her boot into the earth.

    “I’ll get you for this!” she screamed, her voice echoing endlessly into the night.

    All Dezel could do was race as far away as his powers could allow, running as what seemed like the wrath of a vengeful god bore down upon him.

    With the ground trembling underneath them and Edna continuing to expel ludicrous amounts of mana into her artes, the rest of the group exchanged glances on the other side of the campfire.

    Beside them all, Lailah lightly clapped her hands together, smiling gently amidst the soft lighting of the night. “Now Edna and Dezel are training too?” she remarked brightly, her eyes shining with the light of the fire. “Such fine dedication indeed!”

    Mikleo deadpanned. “Lailah, your idea of ‘training’ is seriously messed up,” he muttered.

    As another distant explosion erupted, doubtless causing the wind seraph a great deal of grief, Alisha rubbed her eyes blearily, leaning back in her seat. “Dedication aside, we still have a sizeable amount of travel ahead of us. I would... argue that conservation would be a better approach so as to better reach our destination.” Her words were punctuated by a drawn-out yawn.

    “So yeah, about that.” Rose piped up, daintily turning around in her seat to face the rest of them, ignoring the distant explosions rumbling throughout the night. “Would you all mind if we stopped by someplace on the way to Tintagel Ruins?” she asked. “It wouldn’t be too far outta the way.”

    Sorey tilted his head curiously. “Something the matter, Rose?”

    The assassin frowned, glancing to the side towards the slowly dying fire. “Well, I got word of some rumors that the others overhead,” she explained. “It sounds like the Shepherd will need to get involved if they’re true.”

    “I’m sure you’re right, Rose,” he replied, nodding his head in agreement. “Where to?”

    She tore his eyes from the fire to meet his gaze. “Lastonbell.” She paused, correcting herself, “What might be left of it, anyways.”

    The dying fire continued to crackle feebly as the night wore on, its burning fuel slowly being snuffed out until naught but ashes and the cold autumn air remained.

    ---​

    The sounds of her footsteps alternated repetitively between the hollow impacts of worn leather and the comparatively quiet scraping of her bare foot thudding against the debris-riddled cobblestones below.

    She pushed on heedless of her missing shoe, panting desperately as she stumbled through the darkened alleyway. Her right eye was squinted shut against the flow of blood seeping down from the reopened cut in her forehead, further obscuring her already tear-filled vision. Her green dress, pierced and cut near to shreds, flapped pathetically behind her like the torn wings of a downed jay.

    She paused briefly at a junction of the unfamiliar brown-hued buildings surrounding her, glancing wildly over her shoulder and in every which direction. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her frantic breath as she whipped her head from side to side, her dirtied, muddy hair trailing her actions. Beads of sweat poured liberally down the sides of her face, mixing with the dirt and soot coating her cheeks.

    Her racing heart skipped a terrifying beat at the sound of clanking metal coming from down the smoke-filled alleyway that she’d come from. Her eyes trembling in sheer terror, she blindly chose a direction and stumbled away as best she could.

    There was no escaping the smell of smoldering rubble that engulfed her senses – no avoiding the thick layer of soot and ashes that blanketed the top of every conceivable surface that she passed. High up above, barely visible beyond the swirling haze of smoke, the sky glowed an angry, unnatural orange.

    It was as if she’d been plunged into hell itself.

    Her bare foot smashed into something metal lying on the stones, sending a vicious spike of pain surging up her leg. She let out a pained cry, helplessly watching as the dirty ash-covered cobblestones raced towards her.

    “Agh!”

    Agony seized every part of her body as she crashed onto the ground, a great plume of disturbed ash and soot billowing out and engulfing her fallen figure. She stayed there in the wake of impact, fatigue overwhelming her sore body completely. Her left eye stung painfully as she weakly cracked it open, only for it to widen in horror at the sight of the body she’d tripped over. She instantly pressed her dirty palm against her mouth to suffocate her scream at the sight of the figures emerging from the smoke beyond the body of the dead guard.

    They strolled down the street without a care in the world, their ragged armor and weapons clanking noisily at their sides with each careless step upon the ash-ridden stones. They laughed and jeered at each other’s dark jokes, kicking at any debris in their way. She watched them come closer and closer, the sound of their clanking armor jolting her terrified heartbeat with each step.

    “Ey, you sure you heard that comin’ from over here?” one of the men grinned over his shoulder at his companion, nudging him amicably. “How much of that wine that you swiped did ya drink?”

    The man he’d spoken to shoved him away. “Not as much as you did when you burned that fool’s tavern down yesterday,” he jeered in response. “Nah, I know what I heard – that was a woman’s voice, for sure.”

    Another of the group lazily hefted the long spear in his grip. “A straggler, eh?” he grunted. “The boss’ll be mad ‘f we let another slip away.”

    The first man nodded. “Then let’s be sure we don’t. Look alive, boys!”

    Their footsteps grew closer and closer; the clanking of metal growing louder and louder. She bit her lip, squeezing both her eyes shut while desperately willing her wild heartbeat to slow. Terror seized her entire body, causing her limbs to tremble against her own will. She swallowed her whimper and forced her expression to relax as best as she could as the metal footsteps came to a halt directly before her. Silence fell.

    Unable to take the terror any longer, she ever cracked her eye open slightly, praying to whatever higher powers were out there that she would find an empty street before her.

    Her blood ran cold.

    Tusks grew out from out of both sides of his pudgy snout – one broken at the base while the other curved long and sharp. His puny eyes were locked onto her terrified eyes as he loomed over her body, a single string of saliva leaking down his inhuman chin onto the ragged clothing barely managing to hang onto his enormous muscular frame. His inhumanly wide mouth stretched into a leer as his right hand slowly reached down to the sheathed sword at his waist.

    “Well, well,” the pig monster purred in a guttural, inhuman voice, licking his lips while lavishly enjoying the untold fear in the woman’s expression. “Looks like today’s my lucky day!”

    She opened her mouth to scream.

    “Sure is.”

    CRASH!

    The monster had less than a moment to glance up in surprise at the sound of the foreign voice before he was engulfed in an enormous, blood-red claw and was sent flying clean through the smoke. His similarly disfigured companions turned around in alarm and shock at the sound, only to be confronted by a violent barrage of elemental mana alongside the charge of three strangers.

    The ringing of steel sliding off steel alongside inhuman bellows of rage echoed off the surrounding buildings as a strange yet keenly familiar woman knelt down on the street, angling her pulsing claw away while extending her other arm to her as she laid there frozen on the street.

    “Nothing to say?” the raven-haired woman asked dryly in response to her wide-eyed stare, gesturing her offered hand casually even as the chaos continued around her. “Good,” she remarked, taking her shocked silence as an answer. “Maybe now you’ll stop trying to sell me stuff.”

    The soot-covered saleswoman stared dumbly up at the hardened woman kneeling before her as the surrounding unnatural battle continued to rage.

    Eventually, she swallowed dryly and slowly brought her hand up into the air. “F-fine,” she croaked, the vague hint of a smile forming on her face as she grasped the other woman’s offered hand. “Y-you’ll get a pass, just this once.”

    She let the strange inhuman woman gently pull her to her feet, blearily watching as the rest of her companions battled the inhuman bandits across the street. Some of the strangers, a young man and two young women, looked normal enough, but wielded strange otherworldly powers to aid them in their fight. Others seemed entirely inhuman in their grace and poise as they brought their opponents down through colored explosions of strange energy.

    With the chaos and the completely unexplainable phenomenon occurring all around her, utterly defying everything that she had possibly known and believed up until that point, the saleswoman chose to calmly look away, returning her gaze back to the raven-haired, claw-wielding woman.

    “I’m going to faint now,” she explained matter-of-factly. “Please, catch me.”

    Velvet raised an eyebrow at her. “Sure,” she replied.

    The woman proceeded to do just as she’d said, her eyes rolling into the back of her head in shock and delirium as she collapsed. The therion caught her with right arm as she did so, arresting her momentum with a frown on her face.

    BOOM!

    The ash-riddled cobblestones rattled underneath Rose’s feet as she darted to the side, the heat of the explosion she’d just dodged washing over her exposed skin. She adjusted her momentum to kick off a barrel lying on its side in the middle of the street with both feet, sending it flying forward while bringing herself around in a backflip. Her blades sang a deadly song as she brought them up in midair, unleashing them upon the hellion that had been charging her from behind.

    The pig-faced monster let out a guttural howl of agony as it crashed onto the ground headfirst, two symmetrical gouges running down his exposed back. Rose’s boots alighted atop the stones just behind it as she landed, raising her head just in time to see the barrel that she’d kicked colliding with the bandit that had been charging Mikleo.

    “Score!” she crowed, pumping her hand in the air with a victorious grin.

    Mikleo’s clothing flapped noisily in the air behind him as he swiftly brought his free hand up towards the stumbling bandit hellion, unleashing a blow of water mana that sent it flying into the wall of the opposite building. He shot the assassin a thankful nod before resuming his arte, urging power to flow through his hands and into his conducting staff.

    He jerked the weapon forward with a precise flourish and a cry. “Splash!”

    An overwhelming floom of water materialized from the heavens to crash down upon two unfortunate bandits, slamming them onto the ground where they laid dazed amidst a puddle of dirty water. It wasn’t long before their bodies were engulfed in silver flames at the behest of the Shepherd, his boots slamming noisily into the soiled water as sprinted past them.

    He raised his offhand into the air as he ran. “Dezel!” he yelled. “LUKEIM YURLIN!”

    His body was engulfed in a flare of angelic white as the armatus engaged, blades of neon green materializing behind him to aid him into flight moments before another explosion detonated underneath him.

    BOOM!

    His golden eyes narrowed in fierce concentration, Sorey swept his body out of the way of the explosion with the aid of the armatus. The haze of smoke in the air stung his eyes as he straightened out, slashing his right hand down to point at the hellion that had cast the arte in retaliation.

    “Dark Star!”

    His and Dezel’s voice rang out in tandem as the brilliant angelic blades of wind flaring into a circle behind them, unleashing an explosion of wind mana upon the damned below.

    The pig hellion wielding a casting staff in his right hand tried in vain to escape the oncoming storm, only to be engulfed in a flurry of razor-sharp blades of simmering green mana. He let out an indignant howl as he crumpled to the stones below, the staff tumbling out of his grasp and out of his reach in the process.

    The monster’s heaving breath was ragged as he blinked rapidly, willing his wavering vision to sharpen amidst the pain racking his body. He reached forward and pushed his forearm into the dirty stones under his body, fisting his hand and pushing as hard as he could with all his inhuman strength to get a knee underneath him.

    He froze at the kiss of cold steel against his neck.

    Alisha glared down at the pig-monster held at the edge of her lance, her chest rising and falling from the exertion of battle. She glanced momentarily to the side at the sound of Sorey’s boots alighting upon the stones behind her. The rest of the group appeared to have all quelled their own respective opponents, leaving the soot-riddled street riddled with unconscious forms of purified humans in their wake.

    “You... you weaklings think you’re so tough, huh?”

    Her gaze snapped back to the disabled hellion at her mercy; a frown on her face at his callous words. “You would say such a thing, even after such a battle?” she replied, keeping her hand steady as she held the blade to its neck.

    The hellion raised his head to meet her gaze; a smug, confident smirk spreading across his wrinkled face. He let out an amused laugh, heedless of the dryness of his throat. “I can’t wait until the boss tears you apart, limb from limb,” he leered, trails of drool escaping his open mouth. “How I’d love to hear your deliciously shrill screams as you beg him for-”

    “That’s enough.” The bandit’s words were cut short with a harsh wave of Sorey’s hand that instantly engulfed the monster in silver flames and drowning out its grotesque figure from view. His eyes were hard in the light of the blessed flames glowing through the smoky haze.

    Lailah’s shoes landed atop the stones quietly as she arrived at a subdued pace, holding her hands together before her dress. “...Such is often the loathsome sentiment of those who become pig hellions,” she concluded soberly. “Alisha, please, do not let his words concern you.”

    The princess straightened before the burning flames, returning Lailah’s gaze thankfully yet with a steeled edge. “It’s fine, Lailah,” she replied calmly, returning her lance behind her back. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

    In the absence of the clamor of battle, a strange, foreign silence fell amidst the normally bustling street of the merchant capital of Rolance. The grey haze of smoke continued to drift restlessly amidst the stagnant air, filling the world with the scent of burnt rubble. The buildings lining the streets were deathly silent; their shattered windows and kicked-in doorways staring hauntingly back at the group as they stood in the middle of it all.

    Rose’s expression was grim as she slid her daggers back into the sheathes behind her back. “It’s just like what I heard,” she remarked soberly, staring down the street and into the endless void of grey smoke. “Lastonbell’s in bad shape. Most likely, the rest of Rolance is in a similar state as well.”

    Edna lifted her foot and kicked an overturned barrel, sending it clattering loudly across the street. “Didn’t see a single human anywhere else in the city that wasn’t already a hellion.” She glanced to the side at the figure that Velvet had propped up against the side of a crate resting in the middle of the road. “Save for that one,” she finished, tapping her umbrella on the ground.

    At that, Velvet tilted her head slightly, glancing expectantly at the woman in question. “I can tell you’re awake, you know.” she stated calmly, resting her human hand on her right hip. “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.”

    A pregnant pause followed her words.

    Then, the group watched as the woman in the tattered green dress slowly slid her eyes open, taking in the sight of the entire group of strangers watching her in turn. She frowned, her eyes taking in both the pulsing claw hanging from Velvet’s side and the brilliant neon-green wings hanging solemnly behind Sorey’s form.

    “...A demon and an angel, huh?” A strange smile graced her chapped lips as she shook her head in idle amusement. “Guess it was too much to hope for that all of that was just a dream,” she muttered, wincing as she inadvertently jostled her shoulder by shifting around. “Damn,” she cursed.

    Sorey stepped forward, absently waving his hand to dispel the armatus in the process. “Are you alright?” he asked, worry in his eyes as he took in the state of the woman’s torn clothing. “Those bandits didn’t hurt you, did they?”

    “Which ones?” the saleswoman sighed, running a hand through her hair only to frown as her palm came back covered in dirt. “There’s been so many gangs rampaging around the city these past few weeks I’ve lost count.”

    Rose’s boots landed in the puddle of muddy water underfoot as she stepped over to her, kneeling down and taking a careful look at the wounds on her shoulder. “Last I heard, the city guard had been completely driven out of town,” she prompted softly.

    The saleswoman winced as she began carefully slathering a gel on her open wounds. “O-ouch,” she grunted. “Well, you heard wrong. The city guard themselves were part of the vagrants plaguing the city.” She shifted slightly in her seat, holding her arm still as Rose wrapped bandages around it.

    “Not long after news of the complete takeover of the capital had swept the town, little by little, ruffians began to gather in gangs,” she explained soberly. “The guards fought them at first, but once it became clear that there were too many, some gave up and started looting as well.” She shook her head, pursing her lips as she glanced to the side at her surroundings. “...It sure didn’t take long for what was once a peaceful city to become every man for himself.”

    Sorey rested his hand on the pommel of his sword as he shifted on his feet. “That’s horrible,” he muttered. “All of this in just a few weeks?”

    “To think there would be such a rapid devolvement of peace and order in such a small frame of time.” Lailah mumbled in disquiet, holding her hands together before her dress. “Truly... this does not seem natural in the slightest.”

    Dezel crossed his arms slowly. “It wasn’t just news of the coup. Something else got them all riled up, and fast,” he stated darkly. “No doubt about it.”

    Alisha glanced around at the hauntingly empty buildings lining the smoky street, frowning. “That isn’t all. The extent of the destruction is far beyond what gangs of mere looters and bandits could have achieved in such a short period of time, hellions or not.” She raised a gloved hand into the air to disturb the thick haze of smoke hovering before her, her frown deepening. “This smoke... it’s almost as if the entire city was on fire.”

    The saleswoman grunted as she slowly got to her feet, carefully tended to by Rose as she did so. “Right, nearly forgot about that part.” She smiled humorlessly at them all. “At about the same time that people began losing their minds, these strange, freak storms started forming out of nowhere.” She gestured to the remains of a storefront down the street from them. It was entirely destroyed, held together only by burnt wood planks with scattered debris strewn all across the street before it.

    “One second it would be clear as day, and the next, Lastonbell would be besieged by lightning the likes of which nobody had ever seen,” she recounted soberly. “Guess we don’t live in the Age of Disasters for nothing, huh?”

    Mikleo furrowed his brow in confusion. “...Freak lightning storms? Lailah, could this be the work of a particular hellion?” he asked, turning to the fire seraph.

    The group watched as Lailah shook her head mutely. “A few, perhaps, were it to be the case that the storms were only in one area. Yet I know not of any type of hellion that could feasibly cover an entire city and wreak such an unimaginable degree of havoc.”

    Sorey crossed his arms, bringing his gloved hand to his chin. “There’s so many unknowns to all of this,” he summarized in disquiet. “What could have possibly caused so many humans to turn into hellions so quickly? What could be the source of the storms?”

    The saleswoman hummed, gingerly testing adding weight on her leg. “Most people didn’t stick around to find out. In between the bandits, the storms, and the conflict in the capital, most everybody escaped the city while they could. Those who didn’t have a chance tried their best to hide from it all.” She drew her lips into a thin line. “Like me.”

    Velvet raised a questioning eyebrow at her, resting a hand on her hip. “Why didn’t you leave?” she asked.

    The woman in the green dress turned to face her, her eyes inevitably straying to the enormous claw at the woman’s side. “...My mother,” she answered quietly, tearing her eyes from the appendage to meet Velvet’s eyes. “She’s sick.”

    Her hand clenched into a fist as she held it against her chest, her teeth gritting in emotion. “Damnit,” she cursed quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. “To think, I was spending all my days working my butt off, hawking crap to people in the streets just to make enough money to pay for mom’s medicine. Barely hanging on every day, just to see her smile.” Her fist tightened even further in abject fury.

    “Then the world decides to go and lose its damn mind!” she screamed, abruptly drawing her leg back to slam her bare foot into the side of one of the bandits lying unconscious on the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes at the agony shooting up her leg, yet she ignored it, instead gritting her teeth further and allowing the emotion to course through her. “Just... give me a break!” she sobbed.

    A hesitant hand gently alighted upon her shoulder, causing her to freeze.

    She opened her teary eyes to find the young man with the strange cloak holding her gaze, a small yet earnest smile on his face as he removed his hand from her shoulder. “I’ll do what I can to help, I promise.”

    She blinked dumbly at him, confusion clear in her face as she tried to register what he had just said. “...Sorry,” she said hesitantly, tilting her head slightly to the side as she examined the person who she’d seen transform into an angel. “Who are you, again?”

    Sorey blinked and scratched his head sheepishly. “Oh! Uh, I’m-”

    “He’s the Shepherd.” Mikleo’s words were strong and confident as he strolled up to Sorey’s side, returning the confused human’s gaze while resting a fist on his hip. “And we’re his seraphim, here to aid his efforts to guide humanity through the Age of Disaster.” He smiled reassuringly, gesturing with his head towards his childhood friend. “I know he might not look like much but looks can be deceiving. You can rest assured that he doesn’t ignore people in need.”

    The saleswoman had wide eyes as she processed what he’d just said, her gaze leaping between the two of them in astonishment. “He’s the... Shepherd? And you’re one of his... seraphim...?”

    By Mikleo’s side, the Shepherd shot him a reproachful look, crossing his arms defensively. “Uh, Mikleo? Aren’t the Shepherd’s loyal seraphim supposed to hold him in a higher regard than ‘He doesn’t look like much?’” he asked petulantly.

    “My apologies, good Shepherd.” the seraph replied easily, a grin on his face. “Would you have preferred I introduced you as the bookworm weirdo you actually are?”

    Sorey raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. “That’s even worse!”

    He shook his head and turned back to the saleswoman who was watching the exchange with a curious expression. “A-anyways, the point is that you don’t have to worry,” he told her earnestly. “The Shepherd is on the case!” he grinned, holding his gloved fist in the air with determination.

    Silence followed his declaration.

    After a moment, the saleswoman turned and raised an incredulous eyebrow at Mikleo. “Is he for real?” she asked, gesturing at Sorey as if he were some kind of weird circus animal.

    Edna dropped the tip of her umbrella onto the ground with a hollow thunk. “You’re such a dolt,” she muttered at Sorey, whose cheeks had grown hot pink.

    Rose laughed nervously, scratching the back of head. “Yeah...” she agreed slowly. “We’re going to have to come up with a better catchphrase for you, Sorey. You sounded as bad as Sergei just then.”

    Alisha was in the process of smothering her indecent laugh behind her hand while Dezel had crossed his arms in irritation. Beside them, Lailah gently clasped her hands together before her dress, warm amusement in her expression. “That’s our Sorey,” she smiled.

    As the Shepherd floundered in a vain attempt to gain any semblance of respect from those before him, Velvet shook her head in dry amusement and turned her gaze away towards the distant haze obscuring the end of the street.

    The motions of the smoke undulated amidst the stagnant air, warping the diffused sunlight and forming brief, ominous shadows amidst the folds of the haze. To her enhanced senses, the smell of smoldering ashes was especially keen, causing her nose to wrinkle in distaste. She stared out into the vast grey void, any levity in her expression slowly fading in the face of the vast unknown.

    “So, you can feel it too.”

    She glanced slightly to the side at Dezel’s words as he stepped up alongside her, similarly facing out towards the obscured thoroughfare and beyond. He crossed his arms, his movements stiff and alert. “I can’t use the wind to tell through the smoke, but I can tell,” he muttered, bringing a hand up to adjust the hat on his head. “We disturbed something the moment we set foot in this city.”

    Velvet nodded slowly, turning her head to examine the wind seraph with an unreadable expression. He stood there amidst the smoke, determined in both stance and motive – just the same as always. Her mind turned to the words she’d first exchanged with him, long before her identity had been revealed.

    Then, driven by some sudden urge, she spoke. “Laphicet.”

    She returned her gaze forward into the abyss of smoke, heedless of the wind seraph’s wordlessly questioning look. “My brother,” she explained quietly, her words barely a whisper amidst the deafening silence. “He was the one who was taken from me.”

    The haunting disquiet of the ruined city continued in the wake of her statement. The gaping broken windows of the surrounding building stood out amidst the haze like the contorted shadows of monsters, loathsomely watching the two intruders standing alone amidst the destroyed street. Somewhere, in the far distance unseen through the smoke, a dull clattering caused by something resounded out throughout the silence.

    The wind seraph’s boots scraped noisily atop the cobblestones as he abruptly turned around, walking away from the therion’s side. He paused for a split second to turn his head to the side, his jagged, demonic teeth bared in deep-seated fury.

    “Lafarga.” The lone word was old and stale on his lips.

    With that, he resumed his pace, walking away leaving the hellion standing alone before the smoke. She frowned in response, her gaze quietly dropping down to the extended claw still pulsating at her side. All around, the smoke continued to undulate, the shadows seemingly grasping out towards her with each passing moment.

    ---​

    Broken glass and debris crunched deafeningly underneath the group’s footfalls as they traversed the desolated alleyways of the city, eyes and ears alert to any signs of possible threats lurking behind each corner. They passed boarded-up doors and windows and stepped past fallen belongings lying strewn about the gutters. Enormous scorch marks would occasionally blot the stones underfoot, accompanied by piles of ash and debris from where the bolt of lightning had struck.

    The saleswoman walked with them amidst the silence, a man’s boot on her bare foot that had been stolen from one of the bandits. Her eyes were sad as she took in the sight of a completely demolished storefront as they passed. “Will the world... ever return to normal?” she asked quietly as she walked; a sad expression in her eyes. “This city has been home to me and my mother for as long as I’ve known. Now... it’s all gone.”

    A piece of burnt lumber crumbled instantly underneath Sorey’s boot as he walked. His eyes were sad as he too took in the extent of the destruction. He found that he didn’t have an answer for her.

    Her frown deepened as she hugged her injured arm in disquiet.

    Edna’s umbrella tapped rhythmically on the stones as she walked, punctuating the group’s pace as they turned the corner into the next alleyway, following the saleswoman’s silent lead. “All of this, because of something Kittybeard did,” she stated detachedly as she walked. “It’s probably all part of his plan to help him wrest Rolance under his thumb.”

    “That I agree with, but what could his motive possibly be?” Alisha asked plainly, a frown on her face as she fingered the lance hanging off her back. “What does he gain from going to such lengths to take control of an entire nation – why not destroy it entirely?”

    Rose scratched her temple, glancing at Alisha. “Maltran said something about that back in Ladylake, didn’t she? She said something a reckoning; about taking back ‘what is rightfully his.’”

    Sorey’s expression was disquiet at the reminder. “Heldalf...” he muttered. Beside him, Velvet walked on mutely, quietly observing the extent of the damage to the ruined city.

    The woman in the torn green dress led them all through the alleyways with the proficiency of someone who had grown up traversing them. Eventually, they stepped out from beyond the cover of the claustrophobic alleyways and out into a wide-open plaza – one similarly devastated by a combination of looting and lightning strikes.

    The water from the fountain in the middle of the plaza had long since leaked out of the cracks to pool in the small craters littering the area caused by recurrent strikes of lightning. The surrounding buildings were all damaged one way or another, whether through the breaking of windows or the scorching of flame. Piles of debris and ash littered the streets, alongside torn scraps of clothing and other belongings that the looters had plainly decided were not worth any value.

    They came to a halt before a particular storefront looking out into the plaza – one that had been broken into but had been spared any storm damage. It was here that the saleswoman finally came to a halt and turned to face them, her eyes alighting upon Sorey’s.

    “...This is it,” she stated solemnly, giving them all a thankful nod. “My mother and I have been hiding in the cellars here. Thank you all for bringing me here.”

    Sorey nodded in kind, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword. “Please, stay here while we get to the bottom of this.”

    He shook his head seriously, glancing around at the smoky ruins of the once-proud city all around him. “And... I’m sorry this has happened to you and your mother. I’m sorry your life won’t be the same after all this.” His gloved hand tightened into a fist as he brought it up to his chest, returning the saleswoman’s gaze in determination. “But I will do everything I can to help, no matter what,” he stated firmly. “That’s a promise.”

    She tilted her head at the curious sight, quietly examining the strange young man’s stance and determination as he stood there before her.

    “’...When darkness threatened to enshroud the world, it was they who reclaimed light from nothingness.’”

    The human in the tattered green dress shook her head in disbelief, an amused smile quietly forming on her lips. “I always thought of the Shepherd and the seraphim as old wives’ tales. And now here you are, doing exactly what the legends say. It’s funny, really.” She held a hand up to her chest, a small but noticeable spark in her eyes.

    “Sorey, Velvet, all of you, thank you,” she stated, turning her gaze to include the entire group of strange otherworldly individuals amassed before her. “Please, do what you can. I’ll be rooting for you.”

    With that, the woman turned and disappeared into the depths of the broken storefront, disappearing into the shadows without a trace. In the wake of her departure, the group turned towards each other; determination clear in their expressions.

    “Alrighty then,” Sorey concluded, firmly popping his fist onto his open palm. “Let’s go save the people of Lastonbell.”

    Mikleo nodded in kind. “There are bound to be people like that lady all over the city, hiding in fear of the gangs of hellions roaming the streets. We need to rectify the situation now before things get even worse.”

    “Yes.” Aisha’s gauntlet clinked as she clenched it into a determined fist. “Regardless of whatever twisted reasoning the chancellors had, I myself simply refuse to turn a blind eye upon the suffering citizens of another nation.”

    “Hmm...” Rose furrowed her brow while crossing her arms. “Remember how one of those bandits that we fought earlier mentioned his boss? He might be a good place to start, but the question would be where?”

    Dezel stepped forward, his teeth bared and pendulums in hand. “Won’t need to look far,” he stated darkly. “He’s coming to us.” At his words, the group turned warily, following his gaze to the other side of the desecrated plaza.

    They felt him first before they saw him.

    The cobblestones under their feet rumbled ever so faintly with increasing strength as heavy steps became audible in the distance. Exchanging wary glances, the group slowly fanned out into a ready formation as a lone shadow slowly grew defined in the smoky haze across the plaza, growing more and more defined with each tremor underfoot. The hellion slowly lumbered to a halt at the opposite end of the plaza, emerging from the grey to reveal his true form to the Shepherd’s group.

    The drake stood almost a full story high, draped in stretched and soiled garb of the Rolance city guard. Enormous jagged horns jutted out from its skull, framing its draconic features as it stood there, observing the Shepherd’s group. Malevolence oozed liberally from its being, forming a putrid aura that wrapped around both its body and wings dangling like capes off his back. In its right hand it wielded an enormous, jagged sword, glinting amidst the dim lighting with razor-sharp edges. Slowly, it opened its jaws, a single trail of saliva threading through the razor-sharp teeth to drip down his chin as it did so.

    The uttered voice of the drake thrummed through the very stones underfoot as it snarled unintelligently at them all, slowly raising its offhand into the air. A heartbeat later, its enormous draconic claw smashed into a fist, sending the signal.

    Out of nowhere, a hail of arrows erupted from various vantage points surrounding the plaza, driving through the haze overhead with bright orange flares of flame. The group reacted instantly, raising their defenses to deflect the onslaught of projectiles into the nearby stones.

    Still maintaining his raised mana shield, Sorey turned around and cursed as he saw a dozen arrows slam into the frame of the saleswoman’s store, some managing to embed in the wood setting it aflame.

    “Mikleo-!” he began urgently, only to blink as blades of ice suddenly slammed into the various patches of flame, instantly snuffing the blazes out before they could take hold. The group turned amidst the onslaught to find a group of robed seraphim charging forward and into the plaza, with a distinct Lord at the head.

    “Sindra!?” Sorey called in surprise, wincing as another volley of flame arrows slammed against his maintained shield.

    Velvet narrowed her eyes at the newcomer, her claw twisted towards the sky to deflect the oncoming projectiles. “...You won’t stand a chance against this one either.” She gestured her head towards the towering drake watching the scene from across the plaza.

    In return, the green-haired seraph called Sindra gave the therion a reproachful look as she brought her hands together, sending another volley of ice spikes towards the patches of flame threatening the store. “I learn my lessons, hellion,” she replied evenly, with no bite to her words. She paused, taking in the sight of the former Lord of Calamity, claw extended, standing side-by-side alongside the Shepherd who had anointed her.

    Her lips drew into a thin line.

    “...Everyone!” she called to the half-dozen seraphim standing behind her. “Protect the humans inside that building at all costs!”

    She raised her hand forcefully, forming a rectangular shield of ice before them to deflect an oncoming onslaught of arrows. A chorus of affirming replies followed as the group of seraphim proceeded to flash across the plaza, taking up stations before the store in question. Satisfied, Sindra glanced at Sorey and Velvet, a deathly determined expression on her face.

    “Shepherd. Calamity. I admit to my wrongs,” she stated simply, wincing briefly as pain shot up her injured side. “I see clearly now that my actions were foolish and sinful. Please... allow me to atone.”

    Sorey blinked, his glance jumping wordlessly from the Lord of the Land to Velvet in confusion. Another volley of flaming arrows clattered noisily against his mana shield, accompanied by the sound of hissing flame as the seraphic followers behind extinguished falling arrows immediately upon impact.

    Velvet, on the other hand, tossed her human hand shortly through the air. “Do as you like,” she replied callously. “I won’t stop you.”

    Sindra nodded in turn, a hint of a smile appearing on her face. With that, she pointed her index finger solemnly towards the drake across the plaza. “We shall handle things here. You all, focus on taking him down.” Her expression was dark as she glared at the hateful monster watching the chaos unfold before him.

    “...For he is the source of the storms.”

    Mikleo frowned, stepping back as a stray arrow stopped a few inches from his head, their momentum arrested by tendrils of water. “What?!” he demanded. “How could that drake be the source of the storms?”

    Rose shook her head impatiently, her bent elbow maintaining the shield of mana over her head. “Doesn’t matter. Just means two birds in one stone!” She grinned.

    Sorey stepped forward, his hand firmly on the pommel of his sword as he evenly met the inhuman gaze of his opponent across the plaza. “This is what we’re here for,” he stated solemnly, glancing over his shoulder at the others. “Come on, guys!”

    At the Shepherd’s lead, all three humans raised their free hands and uttered the true names of their seraphic companions, engulfing their forms in the brilliant angelic garb of the armatus. Sorey lunged forward, the great blocks of the earth armatus hovering readily at his sides. Alisha shot into the hazy skies, the wings of the armatus flaring brilliantly behind her form. Rose dashed forward, drawing the brilliant bow of the water armatus back, narrowing her eyes in concentration.

    The captain of the Lastonbell guard let out an inhuman, bloodthirsty howl, suddenly lunging forward with a speed that belied its size and carved its enormous blade through the air. The jagged sword barely swept under Alisha as she corkscrewed through the air, simultaneously raising her hand to slash a blade of wind, drawing a light graze on the drake’s hide.

    The drake didn’t even react to the grazing wound, instead spinning around, sweeping its tail low on the ground to force Velvet to leap out of the way. It then uttered a furious roar and wrenched his jaw open, expelling a violent plume of smoke towards the therion that forced her to use her claw to propel herself out of the way.

    Its flaming breath was choked short as an arrow of concentrated water slammed into the side of his neck, sending it reeling briefly to the side. It recovered astonishingly quickly, wrenching its jagged blade around in the blink of an eye to slam into Sorey’s hastily raised guard mid-charge, tossing him like a ragdoll into a nearby building.

    Without even pausing for breath, the drake then wrenched around and slammed its free hand into Alisha as she made for a second pass, sending her spiraling wildly out of control into the ground.

    “Flame Vortex!” Lailah called, snapping her casting cards into the air.

    Unnatural winds congregated and swirled around the ground at the drake’s clawed feet for a split second before they exploded into a violent tornado, fully engulfing it in an unbearable furnace of flame. It barely twitched, instead turning to face the distant fire seraph with a vicious growl.

    Before any of them could react, it snapped its wings and abruptly lunged forward into flight, raising its giant sword in a curving arc towards Lailah’s form.

    “Scale Crusher!”

    BANG!

    An almighty explosion detonated on the left thigh of the drake, causing it to roar in agony and miss Lailah, instead slamming its sword into the remains of the fountain in the center of the plaza. Fouled water and debris exploded with the earth-shaking impact of the blade, flying impossibly high into the air above as if shot out of a geyser.

    Velvet sheathed her gauntlet blade in the wake of her arte, using her claw to leap out of the way of an incoming boulder. She whirled around in the wake of the impact, frowning at the sight of Sindra’s seraphim floundering amidst the chaos.

    “Alisha, Dezel!” she barked, breaking into an inhuman pace towards the drake. “Draw him off, now!”

    “Understood!” the princess replied shortly, having recovered from her tailspin in midair. She flared her neon green wings and shot towards the Drake as it came to a sliding halt on the other edge of the plaza. The air screamed in her ears as she banked to the side at the very last second, dodging the slice of the enormous sword while also managing to score another grazing blow on the arm of the drake.

    Bellowing furiously, the monster slammed its wings down, pushing itself into the air after the pest that had wounded it. The rest of the Shepherd’s group were hard-pressed to follow, leaping up into the thickest layer of smoke atop the rooftops of Lastonbell.

    Their eyes stung as they charged through the grey abyss, their footfalls clacking loudly atop soot-stained ceramic tile as they leapt from roof to roof after the rapidly departing shadow of the soaring drake. The roars of the enraged monster continued to echo throughout the ruined city artisans as they charged urgently towards the source of the bellows.

    Sorey cursed as his foot inadvertently dislodged a piece of burnt tile, causing him to stumble briefly before he resumed his run. The world had devolved into a few simple things – the roaring of the distant monster, the irregular sounds of his boots slamming against tile and brick, and his rapid breath.

    “Come on!” Edna’s disembodied voice rang out in his ears as they ran. “Hurry it up!”

    “Got it!” Sorey replied, narrowing his golden eyes and focusing on calculating the fastest path through the indistinct shapes of the rooftops racing towards him. Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt, using the fists of earth hanging at his sides to arrest his momentum at the edge of a rooftop.

    The drake had suddenly come to a sudden halt in midair, flapping its enormous wings at a steady pace to hover atop it all. Through the haze of the smoke, Sorey was barely able to discern its figure as it wrenched its elongated neck backwards.

    It then let out a horrifying screech that pierced the heavens, echoing through every small alleyway and decrepit building amidst the city.

    And in the wake of the monster’s cry, the world was engulfed in darkness.

    “Sorey! Move!”

    Edna’s yell caused Sorey to lunge out of the way just as an utterly deafening explosion occurred right where he’d been kneeling, accompanied by a violently disorienting tremble as the earth itself shook in fear and awe. His ears ringing painfully in the wake of the close call, he forced himself back onto his feet with the aid of the armatus, blinking in abject confusion at the sea of unnaturally low-altitude, pitch-black clouds flooding the skies overhead.

    All across the city, crashes of thunder resounded deafeningly through the charged air, shaking the earth repeatedly and jarring Sorey’s gritted teeth. He cursed under his breath, prudently leaping off the roof and onto a lower building as the torrent of lightning strikes continued to besiege the city.

    “Sorey!”

    The Shepherd turned his head and found the glistening white figure of Rose, still armatized with Mikleo, kneeling atop a nearby building. “How the heck are we gonna get past that?” the assassin demanded, gesturing with her bow up towards the extremely low layer of dark thunderclouds above. “We’re totally getting fried if we try and punch through it!”

    Another volley of nearby lightning strikes rattled Sorey’s brain as he stared up at where he’d last seen the figure of the drake. He frowned, his thoughts racing as quickly as the pounding of his heart in his chest.

    The conclusion came swiftly and naturally.

    “The belfry!” he called back over the rattling cries of thunder. “It’s the tallest building in all of Lastonbell by far. We can use it as cover to get above these clouds!”

    “Not bad.” Mikleo’s disembodied voice rang out in amusement. “You remembered something useful for once,” he remarked.

    A grin spread across Rose’s face as she replied with a thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me! Now let’s go kick that thing’s butt before it wrecks all of town!”

    With that, the two humans took off towards their end destination at the heart of the city, leaping down and into the pitch-black alleyways of the city amidst blinding flashes of lightning.

    The world had been reduced to one of hell, illuminated only by the glow of their armatuses as they charged through the safety of the alleyways amidst the violent storm of thunder beyond. Through the brief flashes of lightning, they perceived their destination loomed in the distance, jutting up through the extraordinarily low swirling clouds and into the skies above.

    Together, Rose and Sorey forced their way into the belfry through the debris blocking the entryway, conjuring bulbs of mana to illuminate the otherwise pitch-black, edifice in shambles. Within the shelter of the brick building, the rumbling of thunder was blissfully quieter, yet still powerful enough to rattle the floor underfoot.

    Urgency fueling their movements, the Shepherd and his squire used their armatuses to their fullest extent, leaping inhuman distances from platform to platform in a rapid ascent through the crumbling interior of the once-proud building. Their footsteps echoed forever with each step, resounding off the complex metallic machinery lining the walls of the interior.

    Halfway up their ascent, Rose’s eyes widened at the sight of movement above her.

    CRASH!

    A deafening explosion of splintering wood and squealing metal echoed up and down the length of the enormous tower as the full bulk of the drake smashed into the platform that she’d been standing on, sending her sprawling into a free-fall alongside the corkscrewing body of the monster. Wind screaming in her ears, the assassin forced her senses to focus as she twisted mid-fall, bringing the bow of the water armatus around to bear.

    “Azure Assault!” she and Mikleo cried, unleashing a blindingly bright vortex of water mana to slam into the drake right as it was arresting its momentum, eliciting a deafening bellow of agony that rattled the entire building.

    Moments before Rose slammed into the ground at the very bottom, a brilliant streak of neon green flashed in through a gaping hole in the side of the building, trailing Alisha as she intercepted her fellow squire in midair. She spun dizzyingly around in the air, frantically dodging to the side at the sight of an enormous jagged sword slashing through the darkness to cleave the two of them in half.

    The sweeping blade missed them by a hair as they slammed into the side of a metal cog, tumbling onto a splintered wooden platform in a tangled heap.

    The two managed to separate and stumble weakly to their feet in the wake of the maneuver, only to widen their eyes at the horrifying sight of the drake rising in the air towards them, its sword held high in its monstrous grasp.

    “Crystal Tower!” Sorey roared from above.

    CRASH!

    A spontaneous, glistening stalagmite violently shot upward from the bottom of the tower, slamming directly against the body of the drake and sending it hurtling upward and away from the two squires. The massive monster flapped its wings amidst the cramped space to regain balance, uttering a furious roar as it began to ascend towards Sorey in retaliation.

    Promptly, the Shepherd kicked off from his perch, dashing higher and higher into the darkness of the belfry with the enormous monster crashing through the splintering wood platforms underneath him.

    Suddenly, his world lit up in red as a red-hot plume of flame erupted out of the hellion’s throat towards him.

    His teeth gritted, he instinctively allowed the connection in his head to separate, dispelling the armatus in midair and subsequently forcing both his and Edna’s bodies away from the shooting trail of flame. He tumbled to a stop atop a chance stone platform, his head spinning with nausea as the heat of the flames washed over his body.

    Heedless of the agony surging through his body at the impact, Sorey wrenched his sword from out of its scabbard and broke into a dead sprint down the length of the platform as the drake forced its way atop it in pursuit of its prey. He skidded to a halt at the only exit at the end of the platform, finding nothing but empty darkness marred with flashes of lightning outside the torn-open doorway.

    “Looks like we’re not high enough,” he breathed, gripping his sword tightly in his hand. The furious roar of the drake drew his attention, causing him to swear at the sight of the hellion lunging directly towards him.

    “Well... can’t hurt to try!” he yelled, breaking into a sprint out and into the open air of the active storm.

    His cloak flapped violently behind him as he dashed out into the open storm atop one of the brick arches connecting the two towers of the Lastonbell belfry. The sounds of his boots impacting brick underfoot were completely drowned out by the screaming winds and crashing thunder amidst the heart of the unnatural storm.

    A boom unrelated to the lightning resounded out from behind him as the drake crashed bodily through the brick surrounding the doorway he’d used, flaring its wings and uttering a furious cry as it emerged onto the arch with him.

    The hairs on the back of his neck standing up in alarm, Sorey suddenly skidded to a halt, forcing an enormous surge of mana through his body and into the sword in his hand.

    He opened his mouth and let out a furious cry as he charged forward, meeting the lunging drake head on. “Eat... THIS!” he roared, wrenching his sword into the air.

    CRASH!

    An utterly deafening explosion shook the world as a bolt of lightning spontaneously alighted atop the tip of his sword, the vast quantities of energy being contained and redirected by the overwhelming pool of mana swirling in Sorey’s grasp. With that, the Shepherd wrenched his sword around and up into the air, colliding it into the bottom of the drake’s jaw in an almighty explosion of lightning and mana.

    “DIVINE WRATH!”

    BOOM!

    Cast up bodily by the enormous explosion, the drake shot upward through the air in the wake of the blast, twirling uncontrollably until it broke through the upper layer of the storm and began to arc back down to the ground. It landed atop the tiled roof of the belfry itself with a great crash, clattering noisily as it rolled and rolled before coming to a halt at the corner of the partially destroyed building.

    Sorey followed in the wake of the drake, landing roughly atop the ceramic tiles of the belfry with a bone-jarring crash. He groaned, wincing at the pain shooting through his battered body while blinking blearily at the blinding light that had suddenly appeared all around him.

    Eventually, once the ringing in his ears had stopped and the searing pain in his eyes had quelled, Sorey hesitantly opened his eyes and squinted out into the light.

    A gentle breeze caressed his sweaty skin as he stared out in disorientation into the brilliant sunlight blanketing the world around him. Brilliant fluffy clouds drifted aimlessly amidst the blue skies above, mingling amongst each other amidst the company of the glistening sun overhead. The forest-covered hills bordering the city rose up from beyond the reaches of the swirling sea of unnatural thunderclouds suffocating the city, contrasting the pitch-black of the storm with brilliant shades of luscious green.

    There, atop the island of brick amidst a sea of malicious darkness, Sorey slowly stood up on shaky legs, focusing his mind back on the task at hand. His sword still tight in his grasp, the Shepherd carefully traversed the torn and battered roof of the belfry towards the drake lying disabled just beside the edge.

    His body aching with pulsing pain, Sorey gritted his teeth as he walked over to where the hellion that had been the captain of the guard laid. He glanced at the storm swirling beneath the belfry, the thrums of thunder being muffled but still audible through the cloud cover.

    He shook his head, focusing as he raised his offhand towards the form of the disabled hellion, letting the familiar powers of the silver flame flow through him.

    He blinked in surprise however, as through the flames, he discerned a glowing purple orb embedded in the chest of the drake, having been partially obscured by its torn clothing. The glow only intensified the further the flames progressed, the orb pulsing more and more rapidly with an audible hum of power as the hellion was purified.

    Suddenly, the orb cracked.

    A flash of darkness flooded his vision, sending him hurtling blindly into the abyss.

    ---​

    The first thing he registered was the searing pain spasming through his heart.

    Sorey choked, hunching over and clutching at his chest as pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced washed over his entire body in unyielding, merciless waves. He let out an involuntary groan of pain, stumbling forward blindly and gasping for breath underneath a strange, all-encompassing sensation of pressure. Amidst the agony, he forced his clenched eyes open, yet was unable to comprehend the sight that beheld him.

    Dark streaks of putrid purple miasma tore through the skies above like enormous claw marks, rending the grey clouds like tears through paper. There was a light rain falling – rain intermingling freely with drops of liquid poison only to evaporate before it landed atop the bone-dry ground underfoot. Buildings of strange colored stone with deep flowing curves and elegant designs surrounded him from where he stood in the street, clutching his chest in agony. In the distance, down the hill, he could see the ocean itself past the city’s harbor – the grey seawater too marred with deep, dark purple patches rotting just above the surface.

    He let out an agonized cry as the pain became too much for him, causing him to drop to his knee atop the tiled walkway of the street. He clutched at the glossy surface with his hands, gritting his teeth as the poison invading his body surged at will, utterly overwhelming what defenses he held.

    “Ma... levolence...?” he choked out, dimly managing to register what exactly it was that was causing the agony surging through him. “So much...!” he breathed weakly, forcing his head up in search for any possible reprieve from the unimaginable amount of concentrated miasma seeping into him.

    Everywhere he looked, malevolence dominated the strange world he was in. Streaks of oozing concentrated purple dripped off balconies and down the painted wall of the buildings. All colors seemed to be dulled underneath a heavy fog – miasma of which he was breathing in with every labored breath.

    And so, there, amidst the cauldron of unimaginable malevolence, the Shepherd slumped weakly onto the ground, clutching his heart in agony. He laid there, his cloak sprawled out all around him, shuddering weakly in agony amidst the strange foreign city. The soundless rainfall continued all around him, smothering him in phantom droplets of both rain and miasma.

    Then, in the next moment, the pain vanished.

    Sorey laid there for what felt like a lifetime, panting rapidly while remaining as motionless as possible, fearing anything that could possibly resume the torturous onslaught. All of a sudden, what poison had seeped into his being had begun to drain out, the aura of malevolence visible in the dim lighting as it flowed out of his body and towards the lone figure stepping towards him in the distance.

    “Velvet...?” he mumbled, confusion in his eyes.

    The therion approached with the sound of clinking metal, her extended demonic claw leeching away at the trails of malevolence that had invaded his body. She knelt down and quietly held out her human hand. “Can you stand?” she asked, her voice strangely loud amidst the soundless rainfall.

    Sorey stared vacantly at her before snapping out of his surprise. “Y-yeah,” he replied haltingly. “Thanks.” With ginger movements, still shaken from the pain that had wracked his body moments earlier, the Shepherd reached up and grasped the hellion’s hand, pulling himself back onto his feet.

    He glanced down at her claw still actively consuming malevolence by her side, worry in his eyes. “Velvet, you’re...”

    She shook her head dismissively. “It’s alright,” she replied simply. “I’m used to it.”

    Sorey opened his mouth to pursue the matter but stopped himself, instead choosing to focus upon the more pressing matter. “Where are we?” he asked quietly, glancing around the foreign city in which they stood, in a world tainted by streaks of darkness. “So much malevolence – I’ve never seen it so concentrated before, ever. And...” He shook his head, attempting to grasp for words to try and describe his feelings. “I can’t explain it, but everything about this just feels off somehow.”

    At his side, Velvet laid her human hand on her hip and frowned as she too surveyed their surroundings.

    “...We’re inside an iris gem,” she explained quietly.

    She brought her pulsing red claw up before her, frowning as she examined the never-ending trail of malevolence being actively devoured by the appendage. “One that’s been tampered with.”

    Sorey looked at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding dawned on his expression. “That glow coming from that drake’s chest when I was purifying it – that orb embedded in its chest was an iris gem?!” he asked, astonishment in his eyes. “Does this have something to do with the strange powers that it had?”

    She shook her head in response, letting her hand fall from her hip. “Don’t know,” she replied simply. “Whatever it was, it didn’t allow any of the others to come near it. I was the only one who it didn’t affect.”

    “Then... you came in after me.” Sorey winced, the phantom pain of the malevolence still very much vivid in his memory. He glanced at the trail of miasma being actively consumed by the therion, before meeting her eyes gratefully. “Thanks, Velvet,” he expressed genuinely.

    She shrugged noncommittally in response, turning away from him. “Let’s go. There has to be some way out of this thing,” she prompted, stepping forward and down the tiled street amidst the soundless rain. She glanced over her shoulder, adding, “I can only devour nearby malevolence. Stay close.”

    “R-right.” He nodded quickly, making it a point to promptly catch up with the therion’s long strides.

    Together, the two wanderers proceeded to explore the bizarre otherworldly city; their eyes wary and their stances taut. Their footsteps resounded abnormally loudly amidst the silent downpour as they walked, the only sounds in what should have been a bustling city. High up above, the streaks of purple in the sky watched on, pulsing darkly and ominously from the giant tears in the clouds.

    Yet despite the silent tension in the air, Sorey couldn’t help but allow his eyes to wander from the empty spaces in between the buildings to the designs of the structures themselves, his eyebrows furrowing as he attempted to place the strange curving designs in his memory. Each deserted storefront or residence that they passed was painstakingly carved from brilliant stained stone, little marred by the grimy atmosphere nor the streaks of malevolence. He imagined that on a sunny day, the sight of the sprawling city itself would have been nothing short of jaw-dropping.

    His eyes widened.

    “Oh!” he gasped, snapping his fingers in the air. “I’ve got it!”

    Velvet glanced over her shoulder and gave him a curious look as she walked. “Figure something out?” she prompted.

    Sorey nodded eagerly, gesturing towards the nearby buildings as they passed through a deserted plaza. “I didn’t realize it at first, but after looking at them closer, it’s clear that the buildings of this city were built long ago. All of them are clearly worn, and the newer buildings dotting here and there aren’t nearly as well-crafted as the others.” He shook his head and crossed his arms in conviction. “Also, what use would a city have for a harbor nowadays? Glenwood hasn’t exchanged with the other continents for centuries now.”

    He glanced at his companion, gesturing reasonably in the air as he stated, “That’s why I’m convinced that this city was built long before the period that we call the Death Age from two hundred years ago.” There was little disguised excitement in his face as he remarked, “If that’s true, it would be the case that we’re actually walking through a well-preserved set of ruins. How cool is that?”

    Velvet sighed at length as she turned the corner away from the Shepherd. “Leave it to you to get excited at a time like this,” she muttered dryly as he blanched and scrambled to catch up with her.

    The incline in her lips slowly faded as she walked. “...Focus, Sorey,” she said quietly. “Keep in mind that I have a limit for how much malevolence I can contain.”

    Sorey’s expression sobered quickly. He glanced at her, newfound concern in his face at the renewed sight of the miasma actively being absorbed into the palm of her enormous claw. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” he asked urgently. “What happens if you take in too much?”

    She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be the one you’d be worrying about in that case,” she replied, returning her eyes forward to the task at hand.

    They continued down the street in silence after that.

    Their wandering steps eventually led them to the entrance to the port of the strange city – an arc standing high and tall above the street large and grand enough for the entry of a full-grown dragon. Beyond, great, long piers stretched out into the unpleasant waters of the miasma-riddled ocean, long since fallen into disrepair as the waves slowly eroded its well-carved stone in time. Here, the foreign sound of waves crashing against the rough rock resounded loudly into the silence, almost portraying a semblance of normalcy as the pair walked out onto the open harbor from the city proper.

    Sorey frowned as he came to a halt, sweeping his gaze across the sprawling expanse of the decaying harbor amidst the soundless rain. Despite the suggestion of the roaring waves, not a hint of a breeze touched his skin, leaving him with an off-putting sensation that did not subside.

    He blinked as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

    A lone boy, no more than 6 years of age, shivered feverishly curled up in a fetal position underneath the partial shelter of a pile of splintering crates. His clothes were naught but rags, all completely drenched and sticking to his pale skin amidst the downpour. He shuddered uncontrollably as a phantom gust of the sea breeze that Sorey didn’t feel fell mercilessly upon him, causing him to squeeze his limbs even tighter together underneath the pitiful shelter that the boxes provided. His boots alighted gently atop the surface of the bone-dry pier as he knelt down before the child, worry in his eyes at the utterly wretched sight.

    “Hey,” he greeted quietly, resting his gloved hand on his knee. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”

    The child bobbed his head in response, still shivering uncontrollably with his body hunched up in a ball underneath the crates.

    “Y-y-yes...” His voice was plainly raw and sore from the cold. “I-I do.”

    Before Sorey could say more, metal clinked loudly as Velvet stepped up to his side, her arms crossed and a frown on her face. “Tell me something.” Her eyes narrowed as the boy peeked up at her through the gaps in his arms. “What’s your name?”

    The boy’s head slowly rose from out of the shadows of his arms, holding the therion’s gaze with an utterly still expression. “Heldalf,” he answered quietly.

    Sorey’s eyes widened.

    He abruptly wrenched his gloved hand forward just in time to expel a blast of mana and deflect the thrown daggers hurtling towards his heart.

    His ears ringing in the wake of the blast, Sorey scrambled backwards and pulled out his sword, watching with wide eyes as what had once been the figure of a child grew into an indistinct haze of swirling malevolence orbited by sets of razor-sharp daggers. The set of boxes that the boy had been cowering under exploded outward with its appearance, strewing splintering shrapnel across the utterly soaked pier.

    The waves crashed with an almighty boom behind Sorey as he fell into a ready stance. “...I don’t know what we’ve found, but I sure won’t back down now,” he warned, gripping his sword readily in a two-handed grip.

    By his side, Velvet narrowed her eyes at the sight of the strange shapeless monster wielding the daggers. “It’s coming. Get ready!” she warned, hardening her stance.

    Without a sound, the undulating mass of malevolence shot forward in the blink of an eye, erratically tracing a frantic trail in the flooding waters atop the pier in its wake. The rings of blades orbiting its form twisted and halted in mesmerizing patterns as it moved, solidifying its appearance as a wholly unnatural apparition amidst a tainted memory.

    The daggers flew with gentle songs belying the deadliness of their blades. Velvet and Sorey scattered in different directions as the onslaught began, a hail of weapons slamming into the stones where they were standing. Sorey’s boots ground upon dry stone as he lunged to the side, bringing his blade around at a precise angle just in time to deflect the next dagger hurtling towards the flesh between his eyes.

    CLANG!

    As the steel weapon spun off over his shoulder with a hair-raising whine, the Shepherd charged forward, bringing his offhand up to form a protective barrier of mana before him. More blades deflected off the mana as he ran, pinging loudly off the translucent surface as their momentum was arrested.

    On the other side of the pier, Velvet’s black cloak flared behind her as she dove forward, twisting her body around to dodge a pair of daggers soaring overhead. She reached up and slammed her palm into the warm stone of the pier, forcing herself into an acrobatic backflip as more blades continued to sing. Instinct driving her actions, she narrowed her eyes in midflight and wrenched out with her daemon arm, clawing through the air to deflect another batch of blades as she landed on her feet running.

    The Shepherd and the therion closed in on the stationary apparition at the same time from opposite ends of the pier. One of the multiple rings of daggers orbiting it suddenly came to a screeching halt, correcting its angle horizontally only to jerk into a violent whirlwind that unleashed the entire set of blades in all directions.

    Reading its erratic movements, the two reacted accordingly.

    Leather skidded on rock as Sorey kicked into low slide while preserving his forward momentum, the onslaught of daggers barely managing to miss his head as he did so. On the other side, Velvet flung her body into a corkscrew, the inhuman momentum of her leap sending her clear over the thrown blades while also allowing her to bring her hidden boot blade up to bear.

    CLANG!

    Their blades collided with an almost deafening ring as they arrived at the same time, the apparition shooting forward and dodging both of their attacks while twisting to the side in preparation to expel the remaining two rings of its daggers at close range.

    Sorey’s eyes met Velvet’s for a split second before he acted instinctively, wrenching his blade forward and redirecting the therion’s momentum via her extended hidden blade. She acted naturally in response, spinning around in the air while extending her gauntlet blade outward.

    Her blade sank deeply into the amassed malevolence, exiting the side of the apparition with a trail of gratuitous purple smoke that wafted into the air with the viscosity of submerged blood. It seized up in response to the wound, the daggers orbiting it falling into disarray before it as it shook in silent agony. In the wake of the therion’s blow, Sorey raised his sword over his shoulder with a determined yell, lunging forward to deliver the final blow.

    In the blink of an eye, the purple monster had vanished, leaving only the boy standing there, staring sadly up at him amidst the empty pier.

    He faltered at the sight, his sword wavering in his grip.

    CRASH!

    An explosion of malevolence thrummed out as Velvet mercilessly slammed the small child onto the flooding pier, her enormous claw pulsating eagerly as it began to devour the being in its grasp.

    Sorey’s eyes widened. “Velvet!” he yelled, rushing to her side as the utterly grotesque gulping sound of her claw became the only audible sound amidst the cracked world. “Wait-!”

    She didn’t spare him a glance. “He’s the source of this malevolence. I can feel it,” she growled lowly, her undulating claw tightening around the squirming child pinned against the ground. She tilted her head slightly to the side as she ate; the tension clear in her stance. “Try and stop me, and I’ll bring you down too.” Her dark tone brooked no argument.

    Sorey’s jaw stiffened, consternation clear in his expression as he watched the child let out pained cries in the therion’s wretched grasp. At his side, his sword dangled in his uncertain grip.

    “I... I need to do it.”

    The boy Heldalf’s voice was more of a whimper than anything else as he stared directly at Sorey with tears flowing down his cheeks. “I need to... to kill you,” he mumbled weakly.

    Sorey exchanged a glance with Velvet before he knelt down hesitantly before the boy, a sad look on his face. “Why?” he implored softly. “Why would you say such a thing?”

    Heldalf let out a pained moan as the pool of malevolence seeping out of his body continued to shrink. “Your... your money,” he cried, shaking his head in dismay. “I have to do it... I have to!” he moaned feverishly, writhing uselessly on the ground. “My brother...! I have to save my brother!”

    Sorey’s eyes were rife with dismay as he looked down at the wretched child. “...You should’ve just asked,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “If you had asked me, I would’ve given you all I had, willingly. There was no need for violence.”

    The boy stilled at his words, staring blankly up at Sorey even as the pool of miasma surrounding his body disappeared completely into Velvet’s claw. “Ask...?”

    He shook his head uncomprehendingly, his eyes losing focus as his body began to lose substance. “That doesn’t make sense. That doesn’t... All I can ever do... is take.” His head rolled back onto the stones as he stared up into the cloudy sky, lying there atop the flooding stones with his hair drenched in the cold downpour.

    “Take and take... and take.”

    His last words on his lips, the boy then vanished fully amidst a plume of malevolence, soon all too eagerly consumed by Velvet’s clenching claw.

    With his passing, a dull thrum echoed throughout the surrounding world. The sprawling city of ancient buildings began to waver in form, the colors slowly swirling together amidst the grey of the tainted clouds to mesh into nothingness. All around them, the swirling waters underneath the pier began to smooth, the sounds of the roaring waves petering out into silence as a dull white began to overtake everything.

    While standing up, Velvet winced clutched her hellion arm with her right hand, letting out an involuntary hiss of pain in the process. Sorey glanced at her in alarm, taking a step towards her as the world of the corrupted iris gem faded all around them. Before he could speak, something washed over the two of them, accompanied by an utterly foreign presence that dominated the faltering space.

    “...V... Vel... et...”

    Her eyes widened in horror at the familiar, agonized voice. She snapped her head around violently, all pain in her arm forgotten as she searched frantically about the white nothingness that surrounded her and Sorey.

    A flash of white.

    ---​

    Velvet blinked, sunlight glaring blindingly in her eyes as she reached outward into the open sky with her outstretched claw. Dismay fell upon her expression as she cast about her surroundings, finding nothing but the bright blue sky all surrounding her in the wake of her return to the real world. A light gust of wind caressed her skin and rustled her coat and hair, further grounding her in the harshness of reality as she stood there, alone.

    Her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing, the therion gritted her teeth and furled her hellionized arm into a rough fist, squeezing her eyes shut in fury.

    “...Phi.” Her voice was naught but a whisper.

    Leather boots alighted quietly atop the ceramic tile behind her as someone approached from behind, hesitation clear in his steps. Sorey’s voice was quiet and caring as he asked his question into the soft breeze. “That was Maotelus back there, wasn’t it?”

    She opened her eyes slowly in response to his words, her expression carved into stone as she glanced at the Shepherd standing behind her. “...A small part of his awareness, most likely,” she agreed slowly, frowning as she held her claw up before her. “What little of himself remains having been corrupted by malevolence.”

    Sorey crossed his arms in thought, his cloak billowing gently out behind him amidst the calm breeze.

    “Heldalf left that iris gem there for us.” He uttered his conclusion with conviction as he stared out into the distance. “That drake’s power, that overwhelming amount of malevolence, Maotelus’s voice, and that child version of himself...” He shook his head, frowning. “It just can’t be a coincidence. He has to be doing all of this for a reason.”

    Velvet’s extended arm dispelled with a burst of momentary malevolence as she took a step forward, her steel boots clinking noisily atop the tile. A deep-seated anger was carved into her expression as she clenched a fist to her chest. “I don’t give a damn the reason. Whatever games he’s playing, whatever he’s trying to accomplish here...”

    She glanced over her shoulder at him; a deadly look on her face. “I’ll take him down all the same.”

    Sorey nodded resolutely, stepping up to her side while resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. “I’ll be right there with you,” he promised, turning his gaze out towards the brilliant vista before them. “We’ll have a better chance if we work together, right?”

    At this, she couldn’t help but wave a dry hand in the air in response. “...Just as long as you quit pestering me about pointless nonsense,” she muttered blithely.

    He bristled indignantly. “Velvet, it’s not ‘pointless nonsense!’” he insisted, giving her a beseeching look. “And like I said earlier, if you could just spare a few more details on your era, I could just maybe solve the mysteries that so many historians-!”

    He balked meekly in the face of the therion’s silent, terrifying warning glare.

    “Oh! Guys, I’ve found them – over here!”

    The Shepherd and the former Lord of Calamity glanced over their shoulders at the sound of Rose’s distant call, finding the assassin rushing hurriedly towards them by navigating over the ruined section of the Lastonbell belfry. Alisha and the rest of the seraphim were close behind, hurriedly dashing as quickly as they could towards the two standing by the opposite edge of the building.

    A soft, relieved smile spreading on Sorey’s face, he turned back to the hardened woman by his side, straightening his back in the wake of the exhausting battle that they’d endured. “...You know I kinda have this weird feeling that we’ll manage just fine, no matter what other strange things are lying in store for us.” he confided lightly, running a hand through his messy, scrambled hair.

    Velvet let out a huff, crossing her arms and shifting on her feet as she stared out towards the brilliant vista lying before the two of them. “Of course you do,” she replied dryly, her raven hair sweeping across her face amidst the gentle breeze.

    The entire expanse of the City of Artisans sprawled out before their perch, its sturdy buildings wholly bruised and battered and yet still very much intact in the wake of the storm. Artfully crafted streets littered with dirt and debris spiderwebbed outward from major plazas throughout the city, leading the way through the broken pocket of civilization. Black pillars rose from patches of smoldering ruins to ride the soft breeze amidst the sunny day, escaping into the clear skies above.

    There, standing high above the partially destroyed city of Lastonbell, the Shepherd and the therion gazed out beyond the plumes smoke and ash towards the distant horizon.

    Defiant in the face of ruin.
     
    sainen likes this.
  3. Threadmarks: C25 - Asylum
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 25 – Asylum.

    A faint, unnatural wisp of wind drifted across his face, disturbing his slumber.

    His vague dreams fading into the back of his mind, Sorey’s breathing softened as he regained awareness, the hairs on the back of his neck rising with a mounting sensation of uneasiness. With each of his senses steadily growing alert, he maintained his breathing pattern and kept his eyes closed. As he inched his right hand slowly towards the sheathed sword at his bedside, he strained his ears to pick up even the slightest hint of an intruder.

    Yet there was nothing but the sound of silence.

    His hand slipped out from underneath the sheets and into the cold underground air, travelling but a short distance to wrap around the reassuringly familiar wrapped grip of his ceremonial sword. He exhaled one final time, steadying his nerves and preparing himself for the worst. Then, in a sharp and concerted motion, he wrenched his blankets off his body and drew his blade from its sheath with a sharp screech of singing metal.

    He snapped his eyes wide open, scanning the rest of the chamber with a ready gaze.

    An empty darkened chamber greeted him in return. One in which Mikleo, sleeping in the bed opposite to him, shifted unhappily in his sleep at the echoing sound of his drawn sword. No intruders stood atop the stone tiles between the beds nor did strangers lurk in the looming entryway to the men’s quarters.

    His rapid breath misted in the chilly air as he quickly glanced around, scanning the unlit stone chamber for anything out of the ordinary. His travel pack rested in the corner alongside Mikleo’s against a weathered stone pillar near the entrance, untouched. The dark hallway past the entryway leading out towards the main section of the ruins was unoccupied. Dezel was nowhere to be found – something he had come to expect – leaving nobody but him and Mikleo inside the vast empty chamber.

    With that conclusion, Sorey exhaled quietly and lowered his blade, only now registering the chilliness of the air that his undershirt-clad torso was now exposed to. He frowned as he sat there atop his empty bed, struggling to remember what exactly it had been that had alerted him in the first place. “...Funny,” he mumbled to himself, scratching his head. “Could’ve sworn I’d felt something odd.”

    The shirtless man behind him shrugged. “Probably just your imagination,” he replied.

    Sorey’s eyes widened.

    His panicked yelp echoed through the chamber, followed soon thereafter by a noisy crash as he tumbled from his bed onto the stone floor. His heart pounding in his chest, the Shepherd barely managed to place the face and voice as he whirled around, belatedly recognizing the seraph lounging against the stone wall behind his bed.

    “Z-Zaveid?!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing off the weathered walls of the chamber.

    Across the room, Mikleo rolled out of his bed in alarm, instinctively conjuring his staff in his arms as he took in the scene with wide, bleary eyes. He instantly zeroed onto the intruding seraph beside the Shepherd’s bed. “Sorey!” he yelled urgently, taking a step forward.

    In response, faster than the eye could track, Zaveid drew and raised a small weapon made of steel and wood, leveling it precisely at Sorey’s head causing the two of them froze stark still. At the sight, their minds instantly flashed back to their first and only encounter with the wind seraph upon the foothills of Rayfalke Spiritcrest.

    “For some, death is a kind of salvation, you might say.”

    Their eyes widening in horror, the two exchanged panicked glances as the same weapon that had ended the life of that hellion that day stayed evenly trained on Sorey’s head. An unsettling grin had formed on the wielder’s face.

    “Sorry to drop in unannounced fellas,” Zaveid drawled, casually pushing himself off the wall. He gave his weapon a quick, stylish spin before restoring his aim. “I’ll be taking you two hostage now,” he announced, giving them a charming smile that belied his words. “Don’t do anything stupid, yeah?”

    Mikleo stared incredulously at him from across the chamber. “Wh-what?!” he demanded with wide eyes. “Why would you...?!”

    Zaveid returned the incensed water seraph’s gaze coolly while gesturing Sorey to his feet with the muzzle of his weapon. “Eh, who knows?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m the sorta man who does whatever pleases me on whatever whim strikes my fancy.”

    His expression grew serious as he gestured the two of them forward, towards the exit of the chamber. “Now step wisely,” he suggested, a fanged expression on his face. “Make any noise or try to alert the others and I won’t hesitate to off ya. Trust me.”

    In response, Sorey and Mikleo exchanged wary glances, having little choice but to obey the malicious seraph’s orders. The latter’s staff emitted a quiet hum of mana as it disappeared from his grip, leaving the two of them properly disarmed.

    The darkened main chamber of the Tintagel Ruins was a vast expanse of cold, unaccommodating stone, carved with brilliantly elaborate depictions of unrecognizable scenes from a bygone era. A multitude of extinguished torches lined the walls in recently installed metal brackets with faint trails of lingering smoke filling the chilly underground air, leaving the massive underground space utterly devoid of illumination and warmth. An errant breeze, having whistled its way through one of the various entrances to the ruins, uttered a haunting moan as it aimlessly wandered the enormous chamber inside which it had been trapped.

    Sorey and Mikleo’s bare feet pattered against the freezing stone as they were quietly herded through the main chamber, weaving amongst the various piles of wooden crates leftover from the previous occupation of the ruins by the Scattered Bones. Zaveid’s boots alighted constantly behind them as they shuffled along.

    As they continued onward, Sorey’s eyes naturally wandered towards the hallway on the opposite wall that led the women’s quarters, where the rest of the group were sleeping. By his side, Mikleo walked onward, keeping his gaze perfectly straight ahead as he opened his mouth to whisper amidst the silence.

    “Sorey,” he prompted quietly. “You need to alert the others.”

    The Shepherd glanced discretely over his shoulder to find Zaveid casually trailing some distance away, his weapon still trained readily upon the two of them. He frowned, returning his gaze forward as well. “How?” he replied, keeping his voice at a bare minimum.

    “I’ll distract him.” Mikleo’s expression was set in determination as he strode forward. “Take advantage of the opportunity as fast as you can.”

    Sorey’s expression twisted in revulsion. “I’m not about to abandon you so I can run away!” he hissed out of the side of his mouth.

    “This isn’t the time for that,” the seraph replied evenly, evidently having anticipated the response. “That weapon of his is deadly. We’ll need to get the others to even the playing field as soon as possible.” Chancing detection, he glanced over at Sorey with a dry expression. “...Do you doubt my abilities?”

    Sorey frowned. “...You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered.

    Seemingly with a particular path in mind, Zaveid led the two through the remainder of the central chamber, giving the hallway to the women’s quarters a wide berth in the process. A casual, easy grin ever-present on his face, he gestured the two wordlessly through the opened gateway leading into the depths of the Tintagel Ruins. Mikleo stepped forward first, giving Sorey a silent, pointed look in the process that he was unable to refute, to his frustration.

    The air seemed to grow colder still as the three went deeper and deeper into the ruins, following winding tunnels that Zaveid seemed to know by heart – each step leading them further and further away from the others. Sorey was hard-pressed to memorize each turn amidst the dark, obscure stone hallways, reluctantly forcing himself to prepare himself for Mikleo’s plan.

    “Alright then, I’d say that’s enough.”

    Zaveid brought them to an abrupt halt in the middle of a particularly deformed hallway, his easy grin still plastered on his face. His weapon hung lazily in his grip, aimed from his hip as he leaned his shoulder against the opposite wall. Both of them turned to face him warily amidst the darkness. In doing so, Mikleo caught Sorey’s eye meaningfully, making a brief, cutting gesture with his head toward something behind the Shepherd.

    Their captor had chosen to raise his weapon in the air and admire it, casually spinning it around his bent index finger. He shifted his position, resting his body weight upon the stone wall with a casual, lounging attitude. “Now,” he began, focusing on maintaining an even spin of his weapon, “why don’t the three of us...”

    “NOW!” Mikleo yelled.

    Through the unique, wordless coordination of two friends who had fought together for as long as they’d been alive, both Mikleo and Sorey burst into motion simultaneously, the former lunging forward while conjuring a fierce flurry of water projectiles to drive Zaveid away while the latter whirled around, bringing his left hand back in a surge of mana.

    BANG!

    The cracked, structurally compromised wall that Mikleo had observed crumbled into a fine dust through the sheer force of Sorey’s arte, allowing him to lunge through the new hole in the wall and escape into a neighboring chamber through a heavy cloud of debris.

    Brilliant neon flashes of blue and green spawned erratically in the crumbling hallway as the two seraphim exchanged artes behind him. Weathered stone rattled underneath their boots with each detonation, the very bones of the ruins groaning in protest at the chaos. Mikleo’s teeth gritted as he leapt to the side, a vicious gust of wind barreling through the blurry dust where he’d been standing. He let out a fierce yell and lashed out with his staff in retaliation, determined to fend off his opponent with every fiber of his being.

    His detonating arte rattled behind Sorey as he stumbled through the darkness, his eyes shut against the all-encompassing debris. He used his forearm to protect his face him as he did so, forging forcefully into the unknown as the chaos continued behind him.

    Yet suddenly, the world lit up in a brilliant flash of red and orange, freezing him in his tracks.

    He blinked dumbly as spots flashed in his eyes from the violent transition into brightness, holding his hand up against the source of the fire that had abruptly erupted in the chamber he had stumbled into. Slowly, his eyes began to adjust to the light, allowing him to take in his surroundings – a sight that filled him with complete and utter dismay.

    There he stood, clad in shorts and an undershirt, in the middle of the women’s quarters, surrounded by the partially clad females of the group staring at him with astonished expressions.

    Expressions that swiftly turned murderous once they recognized exactly who had just invaded their private room.

    He swallowed nervously, turning around on the spot, increasingly feeling like a lone rabbit surrounded by predators on all sides. “H-hey, guys,” he greeted nervously, holding his hands up as disarmingly as possible. “I...”

    His words trailed off as Velvet silently slid off her bed, guiding her feet into the steel boots placed at her bedside. Lailah’s heels clicked loudly on the stone floor as the seraph approached, a wordlessly livid expression on her face. Alisha stood with her hands had balled into furious fists, her cheeks a burning shade of pink. Rose rolled her shoulders as she stood as well, casually reaching under her pillow to procure a razor-sharp dagger whose blade gleamed in the light of the flames. Edna stepped forward as well, her umbrella resting upon her shoulder gripped like club.

    Cold sweat ran down the side of Sorey’s face as they closed in. “No, I-I can explain!” he yelped in mounting desperation, whirling around with no way to escape. “Guys, it’s not what it looks like! It’s not...!”

    His pleas fell on deaf ears.

    “...AAAAaaaaaaGGGGH!”

    Mikleo’s eyes widened in horror as Sorey’s scream echoed endlessly throughout the ruins, accompanied by the distinct sound of objects slamming repeatedly into his body. He jerked his head over his shoulder through the now brightly lit hole in the wall, only to have his jaw drop at the sight that awaited him. Behind him, the sound of Zaveid’s utterly unrestrained laughter drew his attention back as the wind seraph dropped his guard entirely to bend over and clutch at his sides.

    Daaaamn!” the shirtless seraph laughed gleefully, slapping his knees. “That could not have gone better even if I’d tried – Zaveid: one, Shepherd: nil!” he crowed.

    Mikleo stared.

    “Y-you... what?!” he eventually demanded. “Did you do all of that as part of some kind of joke?!” he yelled hoarsely; indignation clear in his face. He received naught but a renewed bout of snorting laugher in response.

    Meanwhile, Sorey had been reduced to nothing more than a limp figure lying flat on the stone floor. His crooked limbs twitched slightly as he laid there, unable to move out of fear of additional, merciless blows. Edna continued to jab her umbrella into his side, ensuring that justice was sufficiently dealt to the transgressor at her feet.

    Velvet, on the other hand, had shifted her point of focus. Her steel boots clinked loudly as she stepped carelessly over Sorey’s twitching body, heading towards the hole in the wall through which he had entered. Zaveid, still actively in the midst of a fit of chuckles, failed to react as she walked up to him, an utterly unimpressed expression on her face.

    She proceeded to smash her fist into his exposed abdomen with a hollow thud.

    “Gehk!”

    The laughing wind seraph crumpled to the floor before her with a choked grunt of pain, clutching his stomach in agony. Despite himself, Mikleo winced sympathetically at the sight.

    It was then, amidst the settling debris, the crackling of Lailah’s smoldering fire arte, and the quiet groaning of the two men laying injured on the floor, that a new voice abruptly rang out into the stone chamber, drawing the attention of everyone present.

    “Hello? Anybody there...? There was nobody in the men’s side, so we wanted to check if everything was ok...ay...”

    The group watched as two men and a wolf pup rounded the corner of the hallway into the entrance of the chamber, only to freeze at what awaited them.

    The smell of burning ashes leftover from the detonation of artes hung in the air alongside a slight haze of residual dirt and debris. The members of the Shepherd’s group all stood around in various stages of undress, with the partially dressed Shepherd himself lying face down on the stones in the center of the chamber appearing to have been chewed up and spat out. Through a gaping hole in the wall, Zaveid laid at a jacketless Velvet’s feet, also appearing to be in a similar amount of pain.

    Leo exchanged a glance with Hawk and Sergei.

    He then cleared his throat loudly. “Er, sorry. Is now a good time?” he asked carefully, his uncertain voice echoing slightly off the walls of the silent room.

    Velvet abruptly slammed her boot onto Zaveid’s calf, eliciting a pained howl. “I suppose now that I’m awake, it is,” she replied evenly, turning away from the insufferable wind seraph to return to the chamber.

    With a general atmosphere of irritation and resentment, the females of the group proceeded to dress themselves properly before following the two Platinum Knights out of the debris-ridden chamber, shunning the crumpled figure of the Shepherd lying on the floor in the process. In their wake, Mikleo carefully stepped inside through the jagged hole in the wall, gently easing his injured friend up by the shoulders. Silence returned to the underground space as they left as well, leaving only the lone shirtless seraph lying on the floor.

    After a moment, Zaveid finally let out a groan and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Y-yow. That broad really hits hard,” he muttered as he pushed himself to his knees, wincing as another bout of pain seized through his abdomen. “...Guess it’s a good thing I like it rough,” he supposed slyly, an unapologetic grin spreading resiliently onto his face.

    He then glanced over his shoulder into the darkness down the corridor behind him. “So,” he asked casually into the abyss beyond. “Enjoy the show? I noticed you were trailin’ us that whole time.”

    Leaning against the crumbling stone wall on the opposite side of the corridor, Dezel silently adjusted his top hat in response. “...You knew what was on the other side of that wall by feeling through the wind,” he stated aloud. “All of that was planned from the start.”

    Zaveid lifted his arms in a casual shrug. “Glad someone’s giving me some credit for my performance. People just don’t appreciate a spot of good-natured, well-planned mischief nowadays,” he complained.

    Dezel’s lips thinned.

    His boots alighted softly on the stones as he pushed himself of the wall, confronting the other wind seraph directly. “...What are you doing here?” he growled lowly, his exposed jagged teeth glinting in the dim lighting. “Just what the hell are you after?”

    The other man pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders with a weary groan. His eyes opened to alight upon Dezel as he replied with an easy grin. “Who says I have to be after anything?” he asked innocently, waving a casual hand in the air. “That’s just what I’m sayin’ – nobody understands what fun is anymore.”

    Dezel’s expression only darkened. “Hey, I’m serious-!”

    “Listen buddy,” Zaveid cut him off, turning on his heels to look at him directly amidst the silent hallway. “Women don’t get the hots for men who are all uppity all the time.” His grin grew sleazy as he casually rested a hand on his belt and tilted his hips. “Ya gotta loosen up every now and then if you’re gonna want the ladies to like you. All this negative energy’s gonna drive everyone away from you without a second thought.”

    He paused, furrowing his brow while lifting a hand to his chin in mock thought. “...Or maybe that’s just how you like it?” he drawled.

    Without waiting for a response, the seraph proceeded to hop through the hole in the wall, strolling through the debris-riddled chamber towards where the others had disappeared.

    Dezel watched him leave from the shadows, his hands ground into fists and his teeth bared. “...Damn,” he cursed, glancing away sharply. “Why does he get to me like that...?” he demanded under his breath.

    The unerring silence was his only answer, the faint moaning of distant wind his only companion amidst the desolate ruins.

    ---​

    The main chamber of Tintagel Ruins bustled as men and women clad in the silver and maroon colors of the Platinum Knights moved around the enormous underground space, unloading crates and supplies from the horse drawn carriages in the patchwork lighting of numerous torches and lanterns. The clopping of horse hooves resounded in the distance down an adjacent stone hallway as a temporary stable was established. A low dim permeated the great space as the knights conversed quietly among each other as they worked, exhaustion clear on their faces.

    Alisha glanced over her shoulder as a woman rolled a barrel past where the group were seated, headed towards the chamber where provisions were being stored. She returned her gaze forward with an impressed expression on her face. “The knights appear to be in surprisingly high spirits after Sorey’s words, heedless of how long they must’ve travelled in the past week,” she remarked, resting her hands on the surface of the crate she was sitting upon. “Such strength is truly remarkable.”

    Sergei nodded resolutely in response, standing straight and proudly before them all as always. “It is to be expected,” he replied confidently. “The world has become very tumultuous for us all very recently. Having the aid of the Shepherd of legend in regaining control of it is nothing short of an authentic miracle.”

    Rose curiously tilted her head to the side, absently kicking her boots against the side of the barrel that served as her seat. “What are y’all planning?” she prompted, gesturing over her shoulder towards the bustling knights behind her. “Everybody looks like they’re about ready to drop dead. Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow to unload your stuff?”

    Fiddling with the gauntlet blade strapped onto his wrist, Leo answered her question by shaking his head. “Everyone’s sick and tired of waiting around,” he explained with a shrug. “After hearing about the state of the Lastonbell, they demanded that we have ‘em seize the city at first light. Tactically speaking, it does make some sense, what with the power vacuum with the outlaws in the city after what you guys did yesterday, but...”

    Alisha leaned forward incredulously. “But does fighting a battle without proper rest not lead to unacceptable risk, even if it is against simple bandits?” she demanded, glancing between the two knights. “Surely the two of you are aware of this?”

    Sergei’s expression was calm as he returned her gaze. “Princess, you must understand how the men feel,” he answered. “They have been driven into hiding by a usurper who has thrust all they have known into chaos. They have watched as the country that they love become embroiled in conflict and madness. As have I.” He pressed his gauntleted fist into his chest as he declared, “This place is our home. We swore an oath to defend it to the day we die – we will not tarry in the fulfillment of that edict. That is all.”

    Alisha pursed her lips softly, her eyes drifting towards the ground in the wake of his words. “...I see,” she replied quietly. “I suppose that is... understandable.”

    The quiet conversations of the laboring knights continued in the silence that followed. One man let out a foul curse as he accidentally dropped a heavy crate on his toe, followed by the amused laughter of his squad mates. In the distance, a stabled horse let out a whinny that resounded off the carved stone walls of the enormous ancient edifice.

    Amidst the lull in the conversation, Edna abruptly turned her head and pointed her umbrella forward. “...Why is he still here?” she asked dully, drawing the attention of the group to the outsider casually perched atop one of the taller crate piles.

    Zaveid took mock affront to the statement, leaning back with his arms supporting his neck. “Of course I’m still here,” he drawled, winking coyly. “What kind of man wouldn’t want to be here, surrounded by such breathtakingly gorgeous women?” He slid his gaze casually towards Sorey with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know what I mean, don’tcha Sheps?”

    Sorey flinched in response, the marks on his skin under his clothes suddenly flaring in phantom pain. “N-no!” he refuted waving his hands in the air. “Really, it’s nothing like that!”

    “Oh?” the wind seraph’s expression was filled with disappointment as he leaned back in his seat. “So you think they’re butt ugly, huh? Shame.”

    “That’s not what I meant at all,” the Shepherd sighed.

    Edna’s deadpan expression didn’t change at all in response to the exchange. “...Weirdos,” she muttered, turning her head away disdainfully. By her side, Lailah shook her head in sympathetic disappointment.

    Perched atop a crate of her own, Velvet paid the red-faced Shepherd no mind and glanced seriously at the two knights. “Sorry to break it to you,” she said bluntly, “but Heldalf’s forces are hellions. Taking them on with nothing but a ragged group of desperate humans won’t result in anything but death.”

    Leo gave her a reproachful look in response. “Give me some credit, Velvet. I wasn’t born yesterday.” He glanced at the rest of them, chiefly towards Sorey. “We intend to hold Lastonbell as a foothold in Rolance,” he explained. “With the support of a handful of seraphim, we’ll carry out missions deeper within the country, gathering info and striking against key targets to help slow down Heldalf’s consolidation of power and increase the duration of the unrest.”

    Mikleo crossed his arms, furrowing his brow in thought. “A guerilla operation, huh?” he remarked plainly. “I suppose it would be the only way forward, given the circumstances.”

    By his side, Lailah threaded her fingers together atop her lap. “Yes.... with the help of seraphim, such a plan just might be viable in the fight against the armies of the Lord of Calamity,” she affirmed. “Truly, without the aid of the country of Hyland, this may be the best chance that the nation has at retaliation.”

    Shifting in his seat, Leo nodded in affirmation, a determined smile forming on his face. “That’s the plan,” he agreed. “We’ll do all we can to give you folks as much time as possible to take him out, freeing Maotelus in the process.”

    Sergei laid a hand on the pommel of his sword, standing tall and resolute. “While I may admittedly not be as well-versed in the details of your quest, Shepherd, I am fully acquainted with our role in it.” His elbow shot up into the air as he fell into an immaculate salute, firmly holding Sorey’s gaze respectfully as he declared, “We, the Platinum Knights, will do every last thing we are capable of in order to further delay the usurper of the Rolance throne from gaining full control of the nation.”

    Velvet brought her bent leg closer to her torso as she shifted in her seat and turned her gaze to Sorey. “Looks like we have time on our hands,” she prompted. “What do you intend to do?”

    He returned her gaze, leaning forward in his seat while supporting his chin in thought. “...I’ve been thinking about that iris gem,” he stated quietly. “I know Heldalf planted it for us to find. He corrupted it with Maotelus’s power, but only to depict such a strange and particular memory...” He shook his head, furrowing his brow. “I think it’s clear that he wants to tell us something. I find myself wanting to know what that something is. And I think it’s likely that the one we found isn’t the only one.”

    Mikleo frowned, crossing his arms. “If the byproduct of such gems is such an unnatural amplification of the subject’s power like what we saw with that man yesterday, it shouldn’t be too difficult to track any more down,” he remarked. “...Though it may be too early to draw conclusions from a single case.”

    Leo hummed in response, idly reaching over to ruffle the fur of the wolf pup lying curled up beside him. “Going by what you’ve told us about what happened yesterday, I think we can let folks know to keep an eye out for similar abnormalities.” He shrugged, giving Hawk a pat before returning his hand to his lap. “Though I wouldn’t expect to hear anything back for a while. We’ve barely established a base in the region – the scouting missions won’t start until a while.”

    “That’s fine,” Sorey replied, reaching down to his travel pack resting on the floor beside him. “I have plan.”

    With deft fingers, the Shepherd procured the familiar tome of the Celestial Record and thumbed his way through to a newly bookmarked page to show to the group. “...Here,” he announced, pivoting the book around to display the opened page to the group. In the corner of the page appeared an artist’s rendition of a distinctively built harbor city, captioned with the title of the location.

    “Meliodas,” he announced earnestly. “It’s a port city close to the border between Hyland and Rolance on the eastern side of the continent. I thought I had read about it before!”

    Mikleo examined the opened page with great interest. “Meliodas, the city named after the king of the Pax Meliodas era?” he asked, holding his hand to his chin.

    Alisha tilted her head to the side. “If I recall my tutor’s lessons correctly, the City of Meliodas was in truth not built during the Pax era,” she recalled aloud. “The architects of the city supposedly obtained inspiration from stories of the past. The actual buildings themselves date back between seven to eight hundred years ago.” She shook her head sadly. “Nowadays, the population is far smaller than it was back then, as the city has developed a notorious reputation for criminal activity.”

    Velvet angled herself back in her seat, narrowing her eyes as she considered the presented information. “...You’re thinking the setting of the memory itself might be a hint?” she asked Sorey.

    “Yes.” The Shepherd bobbed his head, gesturing reasonably with his hands. “Why go through all that just to show us a vision of himself as a child? There has to be more to it than just that – especially factoring in everything you’ve told us about him. That’s why I’ve concluded that the has to be a deeper connection between him and the city of Meliodas.”

    The therion tilted her head slightly to the side, raising an eyebrow. “In other words,” she summarized bluntly, “it’s a wild guess.”

    Mikleo came to his friend’s defense. “Hypotheses are invaluable tools in the field of research,” he pointed out, crossing his arms while coolly returning Velvet’s gaze. “If Sorey thinks it’s something worth investigating at Meliodas, there’s a good chance it is.”

    Velvet waved her bandaged hand callously in the air. “Last I checked, hypotheses are supposed to be debated, not mindlessly accepted.” Her expression hardened. “Regardless of who said it, I will not blindly follow along with plans that will lead to nothing more than wasted time and effort.”

    She glanced away; her eyes growing distant. “...There’s far too much at stake for that.”

    Across the chamber, the last remaining squads were finishing unloading their supplies from the second carriage, carrying their own personal gear over to their quarters with tired looks. The main chamber had grown dimmer over the course of the group’s conversation, with torches and lanterns being extinguished as the knights began to turn with the coming of what promised to be a trying day. Another stray breeze once again managed to find its way through the cracks in the ruins, generating a haunting moan as it swept through the ancient space only to perish within the endless hallowed stone walls.

    Abruptly, Rose hopped to her feet, her boots landing on the stone bricks with a loud thump. “I say we go with Sorey’s plan,” she suggested sharply. “It sounds like Meliodas might be the best place we know of that might hold some dirt on Heldalf.”

    Lailah nodded her head slowly, sliding to her feet as well. “I must agree with Rose,” she said. “There are not many options for us to proceed with. It might be better than choosing to wait for the situation here to stabilize.”

    Sorey shifted in his seat and met Velvet’s piercing gaze. “We have to find more information on Heldalf somehow, Velvet. And these gems might hold the answers to how he came to be as he is now, what he’s after, and how exactly he is linked to Maotelus.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with a dead set expression. “The more clues we get, the better our chances at saving him.”

    “In other words,” Zaveid interjected, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “We only got one shot – we gotta make sure it counts.”

    The Shepherd nodded, giving the wind seraph a thankful nod. “Right,” he agreed.

    Velvet’s eyes were hard as she studied him in the silence that followed. Eventually, she rolled her wrist in a slight gesture. “Alright,” she agreed softly, leaning back in her seat with the quiet clinking of metal. “Then I’ll trust you on this one, Sorey.”

    Sorey smiled softly in return, giving a her a thankful nod. “I won’t let you down,” he promised firmly.

    Following his words, with a firm tap on the ground with the tip of her umbrella, Edna stood up from her seat with a rather cross expression on her face.

    “Since that’s settled, I’m going back to bed,” she announced dully, immediately stepping away from the group. She paused, however, long enough to glance over her shoulder at Sorey. “...If you ever pull something like what you did again, I’ll flatten you like a pancake,” she stated darkly, causing the Shepherd to wince. With that, the intimidating earth seraph stepped away from the group, slipping between the humans walking through the main chamber to return to her bed.

    In her wake, Zaveid let out a low whistle, lithely slipping off his pile of crates to the floor. “Better keep that in mind, Sorey,” he warned sagely, patting the young man heavily on the shoulder. “Believe me, that’s one gorgeous woman you really don’t wanna cross.”

    Mikleo glared at him. “Whose fault was all this in the first place, again?” he muttered dourly.

    With a plan forward having been decided, the group moved to follow Edna’s lead, rising from their seats to head to their respective chambers for the night. Lailah covered her unladylike yawn with her hand as she stepped away, careful to navigate between the remaining squads of knights with Rose at her side. Sergei stopped to exchange a word with Alisha, who agreed to walk with him to the temporary stables deeper within Tintagel. Sorey and Mikleo returned together with Zaveid following at a lazy pace, casually stretching his arms in the wake of an entertaining night.

    Velvet chose to stay in place, watching as the remaining stragglers of the Platinum Knights finalized preparations for the morning offensive amidst the dimly lit chamber. She glanced over as Hawk quietly trotted over to her, lithely hopping onto the crate and nuzzling her affectionately. A small smile forming on her face, she responded in kind, wordlessly reaching down to run her fingers through the wolf pup’s grey fur.

    “Yeah so, sorry about Zaveid.”

    Leo had an exasperated look on his face as he walked over to the two, in the process of tiredly running his hand through his hair. “I barely noticed that he had slipped away from the group today – figures that he wasn’t up to anything good. I’ll try and keep a better eye on him from now on.” He crossed his arms, a sly grin forming on his face as he observed her expression. “...Noticed you went easy on Sorey, though,” he remarked dryly. “Relatively speaking.”

    She huffed in response, gently pressing her fingers behind Hawk’s ears to the pup’s pleasure. “It was obvious it wasn’t intentional,” she pointed out dryly. “He’s painfully predictable like that.”

    “I’ll take your word for it,” Leo supposed wryly, turning around and leaning against the stack of crates beside her.

    Together, the two of them stayed there, watching as the activity in the main chamber of Tintagel Ruins slowly died down, returning the vast underground space to a state of quiet solitude once more. Hawk let out a yawn, curling his body up and closing his eyes, savoring the idle actions of Velvet’s hand as she continued to pet him.

    “...Hey. I’m glad you chose what you did, Velvet.”

    The man’s words were soft and earnest as he stared out into the chamber, idly tugging at the straps of his gauntlet blade. “I really am.” he remarked, glancing over his shoulder at the therion. Before she could respond however, the bespectacled man abruptly pushed himself off the crates. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, glancing over his shoulder with a wry glint in his eyes, “You should probably go up top for some fresh air,” he suggested. “The weather’s nice outside.”

    Velvet raised an eyebrow at that. “...Alright then,” she agreed after a moment, sliding in her seat towards the edge of the crate.

    Hawk, disturbed by the movement, pushed himself to his paws and hopped off as well, trotting over to his master. Leo tossed a hand over his shoulder in farewell as the two of them left, leaving her be.

    Following what the man had said, the therion chose to leave the main hall, traversing the deserted halls of the ruins until she arrived at the long metal ladder leading up to the surface. Her steel boots clanking on iron, she ascended upwards through the darkness before pushing the heavy stone slab upward, allowing a patch of cool night air to rush into the ruins behind her.

    It didn’t take long for her to hear the quiet tones of the conversation taking place atop the weathered ruins scattered about the ground above the Tintagel Ruins. The indistinct silhouettes of the vast, towering trees of the Volgran Forest encompassed her world as she walked through the tranquil night air, her boots sinking silently into the lush grass of the forest floor. Somewhere, an owl uttered a series of hoots, its calls resounding hauntingly off the towering trunks of the surrounding trees.

    “...Grimoirh?” Bienfu’s voice was quiet and subdued, barely audible over the indistinct shuffling of the windswept canopy far, far overhead. “How...how do you handle it?”

    A quiet hum filled in the air in response. “Ah. It’s one of those nights, I see,” the normin observed mildly. She let out a resigned sigh, pointing out, “Three centuries have passed, and yet you still cling to the past as a mother pengyon did its young.”

    Bienfu’s reply was reproachful. “I am not ‘clinging’ to anything,” he stated grouchily with a huff. “We normin live for thousands of years – three centuries is a teeny tiny span for us! It’s only natural that I feel like this every now and then.”

    “Does that sentiment help you sleep any better at night, I wonder?” Grimoirh contemplated aloud, her words of a pointed nature. “Does it help fill the hole in your chest as you wander about in the day, haunting buildings like a ghost from one of those ridiculous human urban legends?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Somehow, I truly doubt that is the case.”

    There was a pause as Bienfu winced at her words. “Yowch...” he mumbled weakly, “You sure don’t pull any punches, huh Grimoirh?”

    The older normin huffed quietly as she adjusted her glasses. “You ought to remember who you’re talking to,” she reminded him. “I myself have gone through this very cycle more than enough times. To answer your question, how do I handle it, the fact of the matter is that I merely do not do silly things like grow excessively attached to others. That is all.”

    Bienfu’s head drooped as low as it could as he slumped backwards in his seat atop the ruined column. “Bien,” he mumbled weakly, his top hat tilting to the side on his head. “I was... afraid you were gonna say that,” he admitted.

    Standing at his side, Grimoirh shrugged lightly. “Then you should have refrained from asking,” she stated simply. “I simply do not believe there is much for you to glean from this exchange, other than to simply understand the consequences of attaching yourself to beings who have far shorter lifespans than us.”

    Velvet’s voice rang into the cold night air in response. “If that’s what you believe, then what are you doing here?”

    Bienfu’s eyes widened in surprise in recognition of her voice. He whirled around on the spot, barely managing to keep the slipping top hat on his head straight in the process as he found her walking up the crumbling steps of the ruins towards them. “Velvet!” he exclaimed brightly.

    Grimoirh’s voice was smooth and unaffected as she answered the therion’s question. “I am here because there is a fine line between attachment and investment,” she replied succinctly, turning around as Velvet came to a halt atop the ruins behind them.

    She raised her paws in an exasperated shrug with a shake of her head, adding, “Though it has proven quite a hassle thus far. When that Leo fellow came to me, begging me for my assistance, he had failed to mention that the providing of such would eventually tear me away from my refined bed in the capital in favor of a collection of crumbling stones,” she huffed, disdainfully observing her surroundings.

    Velvet put a hand on her hip, looking down at the book-wearing normin with amusement. “Yeah. Those really were quite the lengths to go for your ‘investment,’” she remarked wryly. “Looks like Laphicet really hit it off with you, huh?” Her words were warm.

    An unpleasant expression had formed on Grimoirh’s face in response.

    “...By all means, put as many words in my mouth as you wish,” she allowed with a sigh, waving a paw disdainfully in the air. “But need I remind you that should I leave, your group of desperate Platinum Knights will be shorter still of seraphim in their ranks?”

    By her side, a soft grin had developed on Bienfu’s expression. He glanced sidewise at Velvet with a sly grin. “It’s probably best that you leave it at that, Velvet,” he chuckled, waving his arms by his sides while bobbing up and down. “Good ‘ol Grimoirh just isn’t used to showing affection for others.”

    He glanced back only to flinch wildly at the coolly murderous glare that the other normin was displaying.

    Velvet’s soft smile remained on her face as she walked up the remaining steps to the crumbling stone platform atop which the two normin were, stepping up to the edge to look out into the vast, darkened expanse of the Volgran Forest. Her black coat flapped behind her amidst a cool night breeze, the metal on her outfit tinkling softly as she crossed her arms.

    “...Seven hundred more years, huh?” she remarked quietly, her breath misting in the air before her. “I’m honestly impressed that witch lived on for so long.”

    Despite himself, Bienfu puffed his chest and pressed his paws against his hips, declaring, “It’s all thanks to my protection as Miss Magilou’s loyal servant!” he crowed. “The adventures that we had... the hardships that we endured... the stories that we recorded...!” He hopped erratically around atop the stone platform in enthusiasm. “Biieeen! It was the stuff of legends!”

    Velvet stared on into the darkness past the enormous tree trunks in the distance, her smile slowly growing stale on her lips.

    “I don’t doubt that, Bienfu,” she replied quietly. “I expected nothing less from her.”

    Somewhere, amidst the vast web of branches and leaves far, far overhead, the hooting owl resumed its simple melody, calling out gently into the stillness of the enormous forest. Elsewhere, the distant howls of a pack of canines echoed out, meshing together to create a truly unnerving harmony echoing off the trunks of the towering trees.

    “I could have said the same when you first stumbled upon me months ago.” Grimoirh’s quiet words fluttered into the still night air. She adjusted her glasses with her paw as she padded up to the edge alongside the therion, pensively staring out into the darkness. “You were ever more so the same,” she remarked.

    The therion crossed her arms, thinking back to the time the normin was referring to. “By sheer chance, I managed to find you back in Ladylake, following some rumors about a haunted house,” she recalled markedly, glancing upwards towards the distant canopy blotting out the moonlight above. “But you didn’t seem surprised in the slightest when you saw me, even though a thousand years had passed for you.”

    “But of course,” Grimoirh replied smoothly, her paws swaying gently by her sides. “The very moment that I first detected the disappearance of Maotelus’s domain from the land, I knew without a doubt that you would return. I knew you would stop at positively nothing to save the one who you yourself had become attached to.” Her gaze rose towards the therion standing beside her, a knowing glint in her eyes.

    “I expected nothing less,” she purred meaningfully.

    Velvet glanced over her shoulder at the familiar normin, a frown forming on her face. “...You were also the one who guided me to Sorey in the first place,” she pointed out slowly.

    Grimoirh bobbed her head smoothly. “Indeed I was,” she confirmed, light reflecting off the crystal clear lenses of her glasses. “Let us simply say that my... ‘investment’ is not strictly limited to the well-being of Maotelus.”

    With that, the normin turned around, idly readjusting the book strapped over her shoulder as she began to walk away. “Come along, Bienfu,” she prompted as her paws fell upon the stone brick with soft, recurring squeaks. “The humans ought to have all finished their noisy clamoring by now. Perhaps now I may finally be able to reap a modicum of peaceful rest after all of that.”

    Blinking, Bienfu hopped to attention in response to her words, following behind her towards the steps leading down the crumbling ruins. “You got it, Grimoirh!” he exclaimed affirmatively. “Anything you need at all tonight, you just let me know. I’ll bravely fight off any human who tries to take your bed! They won’t even touch you; I promise!” he declared feistily.

    The other normin shook her head in exasperation. “While your dedication is remarkably admirable,” she stated at length, “if you are expecting me to abuse you as your last master did, I must warn that you will be sorely disappointed.”

    The top-hat wearing normin froze in shock in response. “B-bien...!” he stammered in horror. “I... I didn’t even realize...!”

    A split second of shocked silence passed before the dam burst and tears poured down the normin’s cheeks. “BIEEEEN!!! M-M-M-Miss Magilou... I... I miss you so muuuch!!!” he bawled loudly, springing up into the night air with loud sobs of grief.

    Grimoirh sighed again as the other normin’s loud cries echoed off the surrounding tree trunks, turning around partially to glance back at Velvet’s wide-eyed look. “Precisely like I said,” she observed dryly, “A ghost from some silly urban legend.” Her expression grew serious however, as she studied the therion one last time, pursing her lips.

    Behind her, the sorrowful calls of the lost seraph began to ebb, returning the shadowed world to one of tranquility.

    “...Second chances are rare in the world in which we live,” she stated quietly, her voice barely a murmur. The lenses of her glasses flashed briefly as she returned her gaze forward, turning away from the therion. “Do keep that in mind, Velvet.”

    Behind her, Velvet glanced away in response to her words, her raven hair hiding her expression from view. “You should go and get some rest, Grim,” she suggested softly, tapping her index finger on her bicep amidst the silence. “I think you’ve somehow forgotten who you’ve been talking to.”

    Her words made the normin chortle. “Well then... perhaps I have,” she agreed smoothly.

    With that, she stepped forward and resumed her descent downwards, leaving Velvet by herself atop the stone platform surrounded by the quiet sounds of the sleeping forest. The therion stood for a long while after she had left, her long hair and jacket waving in the chilly night breeze, listening to the sounds of silence atop the weathered stone brick of an ancient, crumbling structure.

    ---​

    A small flock of migrating birds soared overhead in a V-pattern, flitting across the dimming haze of the setting sun in cloudy skies painted with hues of gold and orange in their endless journey south. A fell autumn breeze carried effortlessly through the vast rolling hills of the surrounding countryside, driving waves through the sea of dry, yellowed grass and eliciting a soft, mesmerizing harmony of shifting foliage in its wake. The group’s footfalls on the well-tread dirt road punctuated the subtle sounds of the wild as they traveled onward as one, following the path sneaking its way up the hill through the growing shadows of the evening hours.

    Lailah’s heels crackled subtly in the dry earth as she came to a halt at the crest of the hill, squinting her eyes and holding a hand up to throw shade over her face as she gazed outward. Her red seraphic dress and long flowing hair fluttered in the wind behind her as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the light of the setting sun. Through the bright orange rays, she managed to discern the outlines of wood and stone dwellings, gathered together in the center of the valley below.

    “Everyone, we’ve arrived. The village is just down there,” the fire seraph announced, turning around towards the rest of the group arriving behind her.

    Rose hummed in satisfaction as she laid eyes upon the gathering of buildings in the valley. “That puts us right on schedule,” she remarked, crossing her arms. “From here, Meliodas should be just one more day’s travel away.”

    Mikleo put a hand to his chin as he examined the well-organized fields surrounding the village below, the loose fabric hanging from his outfit waving in the wind behind him. “...It looks peaceful,” he observed neutrally, his eyes carefully taking in the small figures of the human residents walking through the farms. “The chaos in Rolance doesn’t appear to have taken an obvious toll here, even though they’re living right at the border.”

    As the group resumed walking as one, following the path down into the valley towards the village, Alisha bobbed her head in agreement. “This village is among a small number of Hyland border towns,” she explained. “These types of places often receive increased security directly from the Royal Family as a result of rising tensions between the two nations.”

    “I see.” Sorey replied as he walked, adjusting the straps of the travel pack on his shoulders. “Sounds like it should be a safe place for us to rest tonight.”

    At his side, Edna twirled her umbrella amidst the soft glow of the setting sun. “So long as nobody recognizes any of you,” she pointed out apathetically. “We are back in Hyland after all, remember?”

    Sorey winced in response, scratching his head sheepishly. “Right...”

    Velvet crossed her arms as she walked, her steel boots crunching in the dirt underfoot. “Don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourself,” she advised heavily. “Remember, we’re going out of our way to investigate the iris gem as is. The last thing we need now is for Hyland to catch wind of our presence here.”

    Alisha bobbed her head dully in agreement with the therion. “That would be most prudent,” she concurred. “Should our position in Tintagel Ruins be revealed, the Platinum Knights would once again be displaced, and our efforts would subsequently be further slowed, allowing Heldalf to continue his acquisition of power unimpeded.”

    Mikleo smiled dryly as he let his hand fall from his chin. “...Guess it’s a good thing those wanted posters of you were so ugly, huh?” he prompted Sorey wryly, who made a face in return.

    The remainder of the descent was spent in a calm silence as the group continued to follow the winding trail through the yellowing grass and into the sprawling farmland of the valley. Worn wooden fences rose from the trampled foliage by the side of the road, protecting the fields of partially harvested crop beyond. Boot prints dotted the dirt path alongside recent horse hoof imprints – evidence of farmers returning with heavy carriages laden with the day’s harvest. With each step in the well-worn path closer to the village, more signs of civilization became evident.

    “STOP RIGHT THERE!”

    The sudden authoritative demand resounded loudly through the cooling autumn air, drawing the group to an abrupt halt in the dirt path not far from the village. “Don’t any of you move a muscle, you hear?!”

    Mikleo fell carefully into a ready stance, his eyes narrowed as he searched for the source of the voice. “...Sorey,” he prompted urgently, pointing his index finger towards two reinforced guard towers flanking the entrance to the village. Following the seraph’s gaze, the Shepherd’s eyes widened as he recognized the subtle glint of arrowheads angled directly towards them from atop the towers.

    At his side, Dezel crossed his arms with a dry grunt. “So much for not attracting unnecessary attention,” he muttered.

    “Oh no.” Lailah mumbled in worry. “Could they have recognized us already?”

    Velvet’s eyes were narrowed as she scrutinized their covered opponents with her enhanced vision, her body tense as a bowstring in the face of the threat. “...There’s no way,” she replied lowly. “At this distance, it would be impossible.”

    A deep-seated frown on her face, Alisha stepped forward, her steel greaves crunching loudly in the tense silence, and called out towards the guards in the tower. “What is the meaning of this?!” she demanded, her voice carrying over the breeze. “What cause have you to draw arms against your fellow countrymen?!”

    A pregnant pause followed in the wake of her demand. The group stood at the ready in the tense silence, their hands close to their weapons in preparation for conflict. In the distance, above the hills of the valley, the setting sun continued to hover with bated breath.

    Eventually, the initial voice responded in kind. “What business do you people have here?” came the replying challenge.

    Sorey took the cue to step up alongside Alisha, choosing to raise a hand in a well-meaning greeting to the wary guards in the towers. “We’re headed to Meliodas,” he called, briefly shooting a glance at Mikleo who replied with an encouraging gesture. “We’re scholars from Marlind, you see. We’re only looking to stay for the night!”

    Another pause followed before the voice responded.

    “...Far be it for me to judge what others do,” the guard remarked, all hostility in his voice now absent. “Fine, you all can enter.”

    “Thank you!” Sorey called back, a relieved smile on his face.

    Mikleo and Lailah gave Sorey a grin and a thumbs-up apiece as the group resumed walking, the tense moment having passed. Rose chuckled as they approached the entrance to the village proper. “So... how many times did you rehearse that little white lie of yours?” she asked casually.

    The Shepherd put his hands on his hips with a rather proud look on his face. “A little more than a hundred times,” he answered smoothly. “Mikleo and Lailah coached me!”

    At the back of the group, Dezel laid a hand on his top hat. “You’re hopeless,” he muttered.

    The barking of a dog echoed into the air as the group walked through the well-worn dirt of the village entrance, passing between the two imposing guard towers in the process. A group of guards wearing the colors of the Hyland Royal Army hailed them, descending from one of the towers while carefully handling longbows and arrows in their arms.

    “Apologies for the unpleasant welcome,” one of them greeted as they stopped at the base of the tower, giving Alisha a respectful nod. “We’ve been having trouble with a group of outsiders recently. We thought you all might be part of them.”

    “A group of outsiders?” the princess asked, tilting her head inquisitively. “Do you perhaps mean refugees from Rolance?”

    One of the other guards immediately turned his head and spat into the ground. “’Refugees.’ Don’t give me that codswallop. They’re Rolance dogs, short and simple,” He chuckled darkly.

    Another guard split into a wide grin as he idly twirled a wooden arrow in his off hand. “Not our fault that their holy emperor went and got impaled by some nobody who took over the throne, is it?” he reasoned easily. “We’re at war with their country – that group of dogs should’ve been glad we let them live at all.”

    “I see their mugs around here once more, I can promise ya that won’t happen again,” a different guard chuckled, resting a scabbarded sword on his shoulder. “We don’t get all that much action here after all – nobody will miss a few rats on a ship, yeah?”

    The first guard that had spoken nodded in agreement, turning back to Alisha with a dedicated, well-meaning smile. “Don’t you worry about all this, miss,” he reassured calmly. “Their little coup might’ve thrown their country into chaos, but we proud Hyland men are here, protecting normal folk like you from overflowing vermin like them.” He gave the four of them a respectful nod. “I wish you well on your journey to Meliodas,” he stated in farewell.

    With that having been said, the guards moved on to go about their duties, leaving the group standing there in their wake.

    Alisha’s hands had curled up into fists by her side.

    Sorey watched the men leave mutely, before turning towards the princess, worry forming in his expression. “Alisha...”

    She turned towards the rest of them, shaking her head with her lips pressed into a thin line. “...It’s okay,” she said quietly, her troubled expression clearly contradicting her uttered words. “Let us ask the residents for directions to the inn.”

    They walked in silence for the remainder of the journey, surrounded by the immersive sounds of civilization in complete contrast to the solitude of travel. Ceramic dishes clacked repetitively as dinner plates were stacked atop one another inside of a house with windows opened to the cooling air. Housewives gossiped as they returned home from the market, baskets of goods in their arms. A group of children giggled as they played with toys in a patch of yellowing grass outside of the schoolhouse.

    The group came to a halt outside of a reasonably sized wood and stone inn demarcated with the universal sign of a crescent moon beside the door. Having arrived at their destination, Lailah glanced up beyond the rooftops of the surrounding buildings to gauge the progress of the sun sinking beyond the hills of the valley.

    “It would seem that we have some time left before sundown,” she observed, breaking the silence. “We should resupply for the journey tomorrow, just in case.”

    Velvet rested a hand on her hip, also glancing up at the sun. “We’ll meet back here at nightfall, then,” she stated.

    The group nodded in assent.

    The plan having been decided, the seraphim and humans split up naturally into groups underneath the soft, golden light of the setting sun, seeking to do what they pleased in a fleeting moment of rest.

    ---​

    Particles of dust danced within the diffused orange sunlight filtering through the weathered glass windows, swirling calmly between the scores of colorful ceramic goods lining the wooden aisles of the store. Fading blue pastel paint accented with decorative red cloth covered the walls, accenting the small, cozy space with an artistic flair that complemented the multitudes of figurines, platters, and bowls resting patiently upon the shelves.

    Lailah’s expression was muted as she wrapped her fingers around an especially ornate bowl atop one of the shelves, lifting it with a quiet sigh of ceramic sliding on polished wood. She cradled it before her with both hands, staring distantly at the jagged designs etched onto the smooth, polished surface. Her indistinct reflection gazed back up at her from the surface of the bowl, warped near beyond all recognition by the rounded walls of the peculiar bowl.

    “People will freak out if they see that floating in the air, Lailah.”

    Old, weathered wooden floorboards squeaked underneath Mikleo’s boots as he stepped down the small aisle to her side, crossing his arms curiously at the sight. Lailah reacted belatedly to his presence, her distant eyes blinking slowly as if she had been roused from a fleeting dream. She eventually shook her head in response, her long hair sliding from side to side behind her back.

    “You needn’t be concerned. There is no one here save the owner, who is fast asleep.” she replied, carefully adjusting her grasp on the bowl. “I suppose not many people visit this store of his.”

    Mikleo shifted his weight on his feet as he ran his eyes down the length of the aisle before them. “There’s great deal of variety here, with plenty of experimentation using differing art styles,” he observed markedly, turning around to observe the opposite aisle behind Lailah. “You can really tell how much he cares for his craft. It’s a shame this store isn’t more popular.”

    His gaze eventually came to rest upon the bowl in the other seraph’s hands. He tilted his head slightly to the side curiously as he noted the peculiar look that had resurfaced on Lailah’s expression. “...Something wrong?” he prompted.

    She shook her head absently, her gaze affixed upon the consistent patterns upon the surface of the ceramic object. “This bowl seems... familiar to me, somehow,” she replied softly, a strange quality to her voice.

    Mikleo’s gaze fell to the bowl in her hands, intrigue forming in his expression. After a moment he observed, “There’s a consistent, strict structure in the etchings, alongside a defined color palette consisting of subtle, royal colors that give it an overall emphasis on order. This suggests that this bowl was at least in part inspired by an art style dating back to the Asgard Unification Period.”

    Her troubled expression only deepened in response to his words. “The Asgard Unification Period,” she repeated slowly, a strange look in her eyes, “known by some as the time of Graceful Asgard, one thousand years ago, yes?”

    “That’s right.” The water seraph nodded, raising a bent finger up to his chin. “These patterns closely resemble the designs of some of the ruins we’ve explored from that same time. That’s probably why they seem so familiar to you.”

    Lailah nodded slowly in response. “...I see. Yes, you’re probably correct,” she replied quietly.

    In the silence that followed, Mikleo’s gaze drifted to the side, his lips drawing into a thin line. “Graceful Asgard... That was the time period during which Velvet was the Lord of Calamity, huh?” he observed tersely, his expression growing hard.

    At his words, the Lailah’s gaze slowly rose from the bowl to observe the emotions clear in her companion’s expression. She found however, that she had nothing to say, so she chose to remain silent.

    When he opened his eyes again, the tension had faded from his face. He turned his head to the side, distantly watching the specks of dust drifting aimlessly in the light of the setting sun through the hazy windows. “Lailah?” he asked quietly. “Have you ever done things... that you wish you might’ve handled differently?”

    The fire seraph shifted on her feet restlessly in response, still cradling the bowl in her hands. “...Yes.” Her quiet reply was deeply regretful as she nodded her head somberly. “Many things.” she admitted, idly rotating the bowl in her hands with her slender fingers.

    Her heels landed upon the squeaking floorboards of the store with the subtle groaning of worn wood as she walked slowly down the aisle, her long styled hair waving amidst the rays of golden light and dancing dust. She stepped up to the window and gazed into the hazy mist of the unwashed glass, observing the keen sadness in the eyes of her reflection staring back at her.

    “The blunders of my past and my inability to speak plainly as a result of my oath...” She shook her head ruefully, her gaze falling back down towards the familiar item in her hand. “Truly. There are times in which I feel almost useless.”

    His boots fell on the squeaking floorboards behind her as he came to a halt in the aisle behind her in the streaming light of the setting sun. “...I’ve been feeling the same,” he admitted an honest expression on his face. “I accompanied Sorey on his journey because I believed in him and his dream. I came because I wanted to help – to support him through what would undoubtably be tough times for him.”

    He glanced away with his lips drawn into at thin line. “Yet right now, it feels as if I’m helpless to stop the things happening before my very eyes,” he admitted tersely. “I’m worried that he’ll lose sight of that dream of his. That he’ll end up forgetting the person who he was when he first left Elysia with me.”

    He shook his head, his eyes distant. “He’s changed so much already. To think he would be so different than he was before to freely allow her to walk alongside him... After everything that she’s done.”

    Lailah slowly turned around, a soft expression on her face as she considered the water seraph standing partially in the stream of orange light behind her. In her hands, the bowl gleamed vibrantly, the jagged etchings almost seeming to come alive in a flowing, repeating pattern amidst the warm lighting.

    Abruptly, she shook her head with force. “Well,” she supposed, a soft smile returning to her expression, “the two of us won’t get anywhere simply standing around worrying ourselves to death. We should both do best that we can,” she proposed, holding the bowl close to her chest.

    Mikleo’s expression lightened as he put a hand on his hip in response. “That sounds exactly like something Sorey would say,” he observed wryly. “Maybe he’s rubbing off on you.”

    Lailah tilted her head to the side, seemingly amused by the suggestion. “Perhaps he is.”

    “G-GH-GH-GHO... GHOST!!!”

    The hysterical scream of an old man pierced the interior of the cozy shop causing both seraphim to jump in surprise. The two whirled around to find the old man who owned the store standing at the other end of the aisle, his eyes bulging in disbelief and horror at the bowl that had floated off its place on the shelf to hover in midair before the window.

    A split second passed before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted in shock, a plume of dust puffing out from the floor where his body landed. Lailah and Mikleo stared at the unconscious man in the awkward silence that followed.

    “Oh dear...” Lailah mumbled, her cheeks growing red.

    ---​

    Rose’s boots crackled in well-trodden dirt as she walked down the wide path, her surroundings basked in the golden rays of the sun setting beyond the distant hills of the valley. Two-story houses constructed with white stucco walls accented with oak boards lined the main throughfare of the small village on both sides, calmly watching her as she passed. Her travel pack, laden with freshly purchased goods for the remainder of the group’s journey, bumped subtly against her back with every step.

    A dog from inside one of the houses began to bark defensively at her through the open window as she passed, only to be promptly shushed by its owner moments later. She gave the villager who had done so a friendly nod as she passed before returning her gaze forward, calmly gazing down the sparsely populated street and into the light of the setting sun beyond. Villagers travelled the path, gossiping about the latest news with each other as they went about their final evening errands.

    “...for now.” She tilted her head curiously to the side as she caught wind of a conversation taking place in front of a store nearby. “I don’t expect the crop to stay that way, though. We should count ourselves as lucky we were even able to harvest anything at all this year.”

    The woman the farmer had been talking to brought her arm close to her chest in worry. “That’s awful...” she mumbled, shaking her head. “To think, things could get this bad so quickly.”

    At those words, Rose changed direction, deviating from her path towards the front of the store.

    “Hi there.” She briefly waved her hand amicably in greeting, drawing the attention of the two villagers. “Sorry, I kinda overheard you guys talking,” she apologized, coming to a halt before them. She gave them an inquisitive look, asking, “Is the famine getting worse?”

    The farmer crossed his burly arms. “Afraid so,” he confirmed grimly. “Everyone might be celebrating the coup in Rolance, but what they don’t seem to remember is that the majority of the food that we eat is grown in the fields of that country.” He heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “With the chaos, everything is grinding to a halt. Fields won’t be harvested, the blight will spread at will, and trade will evaporate completely.”

    “With what my brother is saying,” the woman added, a sympathetic expression on her face, “we’ll be in for a long winter. I have merchant friends who are all being forced to charge more for food right now. I can’t imagine what will happen if the supply of food cuts off completely.”

    Rose nodded deeply in response, her eyebrows furrowing thought. “Sounds rough,” she noted seriously. “Thanks. Good luck to you both.”

    “Likewise,” the farmer replied respectfully. “I imagine all of us will need a healthy helping of luck in the coming days.”

    With that, Rose continued on her way, quietly mulling over the information that she had uncovered. Arriving at a juncture in the main pathway, the merchant picked a heading at random and continued onward, the setting sun now casting her long shadow alongside her as she walked.

    “...Things are looking bad.”

    Rose didn’t look over her shoulder at the wind seraph walking at her side, his light movements barely detectible even to her trained senses. She instead turned her gaze to the opposite direction, idly observing her surroundings as she passed by.

    “You mean the famine?” she replied, her words spoken at a subtle volume she knew he’d hear. “Might be. But things will be alright in the end with Sorey and the others’ help,” she stated firmly. “Stuff like this is what the Shepherd’s for, after all.”

    Dezel’s lips upturned into a scowl. He abruptly stepped forward and stood in front of Rose, halting her in her tracks in the middle of the empty dirt pathway in front of closed stores in the light of the setting sun. He crossed his arms meaningfully at her inquisitive look.

    “Don’t always assume everything will just work out,” he warned lowly. “Life isn’t like that. One day, when you least expect it, everything will fall apart.”

    Rose’s eyebrows narrowed.

    “How would you know about that?” she shot back, crossing her arms as well. “You’re always distancing yourself away from everything, keeping everybody around you at an arm’s length and never making an effort to explain yourself.” She frowned, tilting her head while raising an expectant eyebrow at the seraph. “...If you don’t actively work to make things good, then how can you complain when things go bad?” she asked pointedly.

    Dezel’s jagged teeth showed as his scowl deepened. “Listen,” he began darkly, only to glance off to the side, sealing his lips shut.

    Rose waited expectantly for him to continue. “Well?” she prompted.

    She received no answer in response. She exhaled at length, shaking her head. “There you go, clamming up again.” She stepped around him and came to a halt, staring forward down the deserted street with her lips drawn into a thin line. “...If you don’t have anything else to say, then let’s just get going already.”

    Taking his habitual silence as an answer, she resumed her steps forward, walking on through the village. As she did so, she absently noted the subtle sounds of Dezel’s boots as he too resumed walking, following her at a distant pace without a word. In their wake, the solitary dirt street returned to silence, laying calmly amidst the scattered sounds of civilization.

    ---​

    A chilly breeze washed over the shadows of the sloping plains and wafted over Alisha’s face, brushing her hair to the side as she leant against the aging wooden fence. A herd of cattle roamed near the outskirts of the village in the fenced field beyond, grazing beside the small river winding its way down the floor of the valley in the dimming light of the sunset. Their idle mooing punctuated the constant sound of rustling grass as she stayed there, a deeply troubled expression on her face.

    “Still thinking about what those guards said?”

    Alisha blinked in surprise as Edna walked up behind her with an inquisitive expression, yellowing grass crunching lightly under her oversized boots. After a moment, she turned her eyes down to the ground, returning her gaze forward while pursing her lips. “I’m afraid so,” she admitted.

    Edna went ahead and sat down on a rock jutting out of the ground beside the princess, her umbrella twirling slightly in her grip in response to the movement. She turned her head to the side, also staring out towards the herd of grazing cattle and the shadowed fields beyond.

    “It shouldn’t surprise you,” she pointed out. “This is just how humans are. Selfish and ignorant.”

    The princess turned her head slightly, the frown on her face deepening. “Those guards, the councilmen... even Lady Maltran,” she breathed dejectedly. She turned to face her companion fully; her eyes almost fragile as she sought any amount of reconciliation from the mythical seraph. “Do you truly believe that this is the fate that we are doomed to, Edna? To spend our final days bickering and cursing each other... blind to the concepts of compassion and consideration.”

    The hateful words of the village guards still resounded in the princess’s ears, long after they had been so spitefully uttered. The words of her fellow countrymen.

    Edna didn’t immediately respond to her imploring gaze, continuing to watch the herd of cattle moving slowly across the pasture, idly rotating the amber fabric of her umbrella atop her shoulder in the silence. Another breeze gusted across the open space, bringing with it the cold of night that caused the princess to shiver slightly.

    “’Seraphim coexisting with humans,’ huh?”

    The earth seraph shook her head ever so slightly, continuing to stare outward as her short hair was disturbed by cool autumn wind flowing across the pasture. “Honestly? I don’t care for Sorey’s dream,” she stated simply, giving her umbrella a partial twirl. “I think it’s silly. Humans will always be dumb and stupid, finding a way to ruin anything thanks to their greed.”

    Her lips drew into a thin line as her gaze drifted upwards, to the hills encompassing the valley and the mountains beyond. “...I’m only here for my brother’s sake. That’s all.”

    Alisha let out a quiet breath as she returned her gaze forward, shifting more of her body weight onto the fence before her. She slid her eyes closed, concentrating on the feeling of the breeze wafting against her face amidst the sounds and smells of rustling grass.

    “I believed,” the princess began, before shaking her head and starting again, “no, I hoped that humanity will be able to come together. That we as a species would be able to recognize the collective threats to our lives and find within ourselves the capacity for peace.” She brought her gauntleted hands together atop the fence, interlinking her fingers while pursuing her lips indecisively. “To that end, I fought and still will fight,” she stated.

    “Yet at times like these...” She shook her head dismally, sliding her eyes to stare down at the yellowing grass below. “It seems so futile,” she whispered. Her words were almost inaudible – an admission of indecision that seemed almost a betrayal of her own convictions.

    “Humanity will always fail you. It is simply in their nature.”

    Her former master’s words rang in her ears clear as day, blocking out the sounds of nature with a horrible clarity. Her teeth set together as she closed her eyes tightly, bowing her head as the emotions threatened to well up inside of her.

    Silence fell between the two of them in the wake of her words. In the distance, a cow that had strayed away from the herd raised her head into the air, uttering a low, warbling moo that carried through the increasingly colder air of the valley. Edna turned her head to the side, observing the quietly distraught princess hunched over atop the fence beside her. Eventually, she spoke.

    “...You worry too much.”

    Alisha’s eyes blinked open in surprise. She raised her head and glanced at the seraph with wide eyes, who returned her gaze with a slight, meaningful tilt of her head.

    Another stray breeze pushed its way across the floor of the shadowed valley, bringing along with it the crisp scents of autumn with a hint of moisture, disturbing their hair as they rested together at the outskirts of the village. Despite the cold, the princess found a subtle warmth slowly blooming in her chest as she returned her gaze forward, this time facing upwards towards the orange skies above. “...Thank you, Edna,” she mumbled softly, her hair sweeping about her face in the wind.

    The two of them remained there in a companionable silence, watching as the sun slowly sank in the skies above in a brilliant vista of yellow and golden streaks.

    ---​

    Water bubbled calmly in the small river winding its way around the outskirts of the village, obscured in parts by the shadows of yellowing trees growing in the fertile dirt of the riverbank. Small fish darted about lazily in the clear waters, wearing scales of grey and black that allowed them to become almost invisible amidst the shadows. Having been following the winding path alongside the river, Sorey was abruptly torn from the tranquil scene at the distinct sound of a four-legged animal loping towards him.

    He turned on the spot towards the incoming animal, his boots grinding in the dirt as his hand fell readily to the pommel of his sword. He fell into a fighting stance as a vicious looking dog abruptly leapt out from between the tree trunks, its hackles raised in a silent growl.

    “Whoa there!” Sorey extended his offhand placatingly as the dog began to circle him at a distance, its inhuman eyes fixated on him with an unnerving intensity. “I’m not looking for any trouble, promise,” he explained, maintaining his calm tone while still gripping the pommel of his sword sheathed at his waist. He gestured to the side questioningly. “Do you want me to leave?”

    The animal came to a slow halt at his words, tilting its head almost imperceptibly to the side as it continued to stare at him unerringly. Then, following a tense pause, it seemed to relax, still maintaining a fixed gaze on the human before him.

    Sorey raised a curious eyebrow at the animal’s behavior, tentatively releasing his sword in kind.

    “Gray!”

    A foreign voice called out into the air, drawing both their attention to the pathway as an older man wearing well-worn clothing emerged from beyond the trees. The stranger instantly took in the scene between Sorey and the dog and acted accordingly, sticking his index finger and thumb into his mouth and whistling sharply. “Go on, Gray,” he advised the dog, gesturing off to the side.

    The animal seemed to stare back at the man for a few moments before eventually following through, taking one more glance at Sorey before turning away and wandering off between the trees of the riverbank.

    The Shepherd watched the dog go curiously before turning around as the farmer approached, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry about him,” the stranger said, nodding towards it as it sniffed idly about the trees. “He can get combative when it comes to travelers. Seems alright with you, though.”

    Sorey followed his gaze and watched the dog as well, remarking, “He’s really smart. Almost thought he could understand me with the way he was looking at me.”

    The farmer nodded. “Aye. I’ve always thought that as well.” At Sorey’s look, he elaborated, “Found him injured a few years ago. Near bit my leg off when I patched him up, but he ended up following me home. It’s been that way ever since.”

    “He became your pet just like that?” Sorey asked, watching as the animal in question wandered about their surroundings, always seeming to keep the two of them in its peripheral vision. “That’s amazing.”

    He shook his head in response, waving a hand in the air. “I wouldn’t call him a pet. I’ve never taken leash nor lash to him – I wouldn’t dare. Gray has been and will always be a wild animal for the rest of his life. I know he’s only here because he wants to.”

    He tapped the side of his head. “When walking alongside a being with such sharp, wild instincts, the most important thing is that you need to know exactly what you are doing.” He met Sorey’s gaze meaningfully. “You have to have no doubts, no uncertainty, even if you might be wrong in the end. Otherwise, you’ll be powerless to stop those instincts.”

    At his strange words, Sorey frowned.

    In the distance, a branch snapped loudly as the wild animal named Gray snapped its jaws closed around it, tearing it roughly from the side of the tree with impressive force.

    At the noise, the stranger abruptly shook his head. “Ah, well,” he digressed gratefully, “thank you for letting an old man like me ramble. I wish you well on your travels, stranger.” With that, the man resumed his walk down the path at a calm pace, sliding his hands into his pockets with a tranquil demeanor.

    Off to the side, the wild dog raised his head and gave the Shepherd one last piercing look before turning around and trotting down the path as well. Sorey watched the dog disappear into the trees beyond, a strange expression on his face. Behind him, the babbling of the water continued unerringly in the silence.

    ---​

    “Excuse me, lady?”

    Velvet blinked, coming to a halt in the scattered shadow of a guard tower near the edge of the village at the sound of a small girl’s voice. She found a child in a tidy pink dress watching her from the yard of a shabby house, her head tilted curiously to the side. In response, she put a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at the little girl standing to the side of the main dirt path. “What is it?” she asked.

    The girl raised a hand and pointed with her index finger towards the therion’s bandaged hand, an intrigued expression on her face. “Could you make your arm go big?” she warbled curiously. “You look like one of those drawings at the market, but your arm is too small.”

    The therion’s eye twitched.

    Glancing discreetly at the guard tower behind her, she stepped towards the little girl with a schooled expression on her face. “Drawings at the market, huh?” she asked with interest, coming to a halt on the other side of the fenced yard. “How big does the drawing’s arm go?”

    The girl seemed disappointed at her reaction, her expression falling. “So you aren’t like the drawing at the market?” she asked sadly. “They put those pictures up a few days ago and everybody at school was talking about them.” She shook her head abruptly, remembering her manners. “Well, anyway! The drawing’s arm went super big, almost as big as the schoolhouse!” she exclaimed excitedly, a shine reappearing in her eyes.

    Velvet raised her eyebrows in surprise. “The schoolhouse?” she repeated. She shook her head smoothly in disbelief, dismissing with a wave of her bandaged hand, “No way. Nobody’s arm can grow that big.”

    “Nu-uh!” the girl rebutted fiercely, bouncing up and down in earnest. “The boys at school told us that it was because the lady in the drawing was a ‘monster.’ Monsters can be all sorts of weird shapes and sizes!” she declared, clearly proud of her superior knowledge to the adult before her.

    “Is that so?” Velvet asked dryly, amusement in her expression. She held her index finger to her chin, furrowing her brows in thought. “If they can be all sorts of shapes and sizes... doesn’t that mean that monsters can also look like regular people like you and me?”

    The little girl stared up at her wide-eyed for a moment in response to her words, seemingly unable to process what she’d just said.

    “...Whoa!” she gaped in awe. “You’re totally right! I never thought about it that way...”

    The therion couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s excitement. “You should tell that to the boys at school,” she suggested in amusement, letting her hand drop from her chin as she turned around to leave.

    “I will! Thanks, lady!” the girl beamed, raising her hand in farewell.

    As Velvet took stepped away, a distant, barely perceptible twanging noise dimly registered in her ears.

    The sound unleashed an abrupt wave of adrenaline throughout her body, throwing her every sense into overdrive. The world appeared to slow as she focused her mind, her eyes registering a foreign fast-moving object flying from the rolling fields beyond the border of the village towards her direction at a high speed. She tensed her body in alarm, falling into a combat stance as the object careened through the air, aimed precisely at its target by its sender.

    CRASH!

    She glanced sharply over her shoulder as the armored man standing atop the guard tower suddenly crashed down onto the dirt in a plume of dust, having toppled over the railing above. A trail of blood trickled out of the now unconscious man’s neck from where the small, crossbow-fired sleeper dart had embedded itself.

    The horrified gasp of the child beside Velvet was of no concern to her as she faced forward once more, watching as the rest of the sleeper darts arrived at their marks. The remaining two guards overseeing the entrance collapsed without barely a sound of alarm, similarly rendered unconscious by the ranged attacks. Her eyes narrowed as she registered a group of attackers rushing from the crests of the fields towards the entrance to the village where she stood.

    “Child! Get inside, now!”

    She glanced to the side as the girl she had been talking to turned and scrambled towards the entryway of her house from which her mother was panickily beckoning her. The sound of boots slamming on dirt returned her attention to the invaders as they charged into the village proper, their drawn swords and daggers gleaming in the light of the setting sun.

    Without a word, Velvet proceeded to meet the first man’s sword with her own in front of the girl’s yard, metal screeching against metal as she deflected his weapon with a subtle twist of her arm. She pivoted immediately on her foot to bring her other leg around, slamming into the bandit’s unprotected side with inhuman strength sending him reeling away with a hoarse cry. Her raven hair sweeping around with her, she spun completely around and chopped her sword into the air, intercepting the fired crossbow dart with pinpoint accuracy.

    PING!

    An ear-piercing clang resounded into the air as the dart spiraled off to the side before embedding into the dirt with a soft thunk.

    Her steel boot crackled noisily underneath her as she followed through, spinning around and launching herself into a backflip to clear the swung axes and swords of two more men. The world spun around her as she twirled around, slamming her left foot into the dirt behind her and launching herself forward in a cartwheel.

    Her target let out an involuntary cry as the hidden blade of her right boot sliced him, causing him to reflexively drop his axe. Before he could react further, she lashed out and crashed her steel boot into his head, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Her other opponent lunged at her, stabbing forward with his sword at her heart, only to stumble as she deflected his blade with her own. She twisted around and swept his feet out from under him, sending him crashing onto the ground as well with a clattering of metal armor.

    Before she could knock him unconscious, she was forced to leap away to avoid another crossbow dart singing through the air where she had been standing. She recovered with her boots sliding noisily in dirt, her eyes narrowed as she laid her eyes upon the rest of her opponents, her controlled breathing low and steady in the heat of battle. Across from her at the entrance to the village, the rest of the invaders exchanged glances in the face of her unyielding resistance, gripping their weapons with restless, white-knuckle fists.

    Suddenly, a woman with dark hair abruptly stepped forward with a sword in hand, hailing her directly. “You aren’t from around here,” she stated aloud, her voice deafeningly loud in the still atmosphere.

    Velvet narrowed her eyes in response, noting how the rest of the attackers appeared to be following the woman’s lead. “...Your point?” she replied curtly.

    The other woman’s expression was hard. “Lower your blade,” she advised heavily, holding the therion’s gaze. “We’re taking over the village. For our survival.”

    The dots connected instantly in Velvet’s mind. “You’re refugees from Rolance,” she concluded aloud, echoing Alisha’s words from earlier.

    “So you know,” the attacker observed, taking a cautious step forward while still holding her sword readily at her side. “Then you must also know that we are doing that which must be done to save our lives.” She gestured her hand harshly towards the unconscious guards lying on the side of the dirt street. “These bastards spat in our faces in our time of need – they threatened to behead us for even dare asking them for help!”

    She held Velvet’s gaze imploringly, desperation seeping plainly into her voice as she said, “We have starving families who will be murdered in the chaos in our homeland. You must know that our only chance at life is to take this village hostage and negotiate with Hyland!” She took another step forward, shaking her head in emotion. “Please, lower your blade!” she beseeched once more.

    A tense silence fell in the wake of her words. Velvet’s expression was unreadable as she held the woman’s imploring gaze. She absently registered movement out of the corner of her eye as the girl and her mother peeked out of the window of their house, watching with wide, horrified eyes as she faced off against the band of refugees.

    “...If you take over, you’ll draw the complete military attention of the nation of Hyland upon this village.”

    Her boot crackled loudly on the dirt as she returned to a full fighting stance, her words hard and resolute. “I won’t accept such a risk to my plans.” Her amber eyes were cold and unyielding. “Not now.”

    The refugee leader’s gaze darkened in response to her words. By her side, her grip tightened on her sword. “...So be it,” she muttered lowly. “We’ll just have to take it by force!”

    With that, she lunged forward, stabbing her sword towards Velvet’s neck.

    CLANG!

    Sparks flew briefly in the air as their blades met in the center of the dirt street. Still holding her sword in a lock, Velvet pivoted and lashed out with her foot towards her opponent, only to find air as the leader ducked lithely underneath her leg in the blink of an eye.

    Capitalizing on the opening, the woman drew her sword back and shoved it forward at the therion’s exposed side while she was still off-balance. Her sword was deflected by an extending hidden blade as Velvet tilted backwards in a backflip, reaching up to push off the dirt above her in midair to maintain her velocity in a second twirl.

    She recovered just in time to sidestep a follow-up slash of the leader, retaliating by lashing her leg around in an attempt to sweep the woman off her feet. Dirt crackled loudly underneath the leader’s boots as she leapt upwards with a defiant cry, avoiding the therion’s leg while bringing her sword down in a decisive stab towards her heart.

    SQUELCH!

    With a fierce roar, Velvet tore around and slammed her extended daemon arm into the woman, intercepting her in midair and tossing her bodily backwards into the street as if she were made of paper. Her sword clattered nosily in the dirt beside her head as she tumbled to a halt in the street, groaning involuntarily as the world spun around her.

    Silence fell as the leader laid there beaten, breathing laboriously with her black hair spread in the dirt all around her. Velvet stood at the ready in the middle of the street amidst the lull, her pulsing daemon arm unseen by the rest of the humans present. The rest of the refugees, having regrouped and consolidated in the wake of their initial battle with the therion, looked on with grim, defeated expressions.

    “INTRUDERS!”

    Alarmed calls and the slamming of armored boots resounded in the air as the village guard, having finally detected the presence of the refugees, charged towards the scene, their weapons drawn at the ready to fend off the attackers. Velvet didn’t spare a glance over her shoulder as they approached, instead watching as the refugee leader stumbled to her feet, glaring at her with untold hatred in her tear-ridden eyes.

    “...You’ve sentenced us all to death.”

    The black-haired woman’s words were uttered through gritted teeth as she stood, clutching at her dislocated right arm. “Without us, my children... our families will starve or be slain within a fortnight.” She winced in agony, stumbling backwards as one of the men laid an urgent hand on her other shoulder. “This was something we had to do! We had no other choice...!”

    Hatred burned in her eyes as she glared at Velvet with untold emotion. “Curse you,” she snarled, spittle flying from her mouth. “Curse you, damnit!”

    Velvet looked on in the face of the woman’s ire, an impassive expression on her face.

    Behind her, the village guards arrived in mass amidst a mad clamor of clanging metal and grinding dirt. “It’s those Rolance rats!” one man hollered viciously, beckoning his comrades forward as he ran past Velvet. “Don’t let them go this time – slaughter every last one of them!” Battle cries echoed sympathetically into the cold autumn air as the men charged towards the group of invaders, bloodlust clear in their gazes. Arrows whistled above the clamor as the first projectiles were shot overhead.

    The leader of the refugees remained fixated hatefully on Velvet’s eyes for a moment longer before she followed the remainder of her group’s lead, breaking into a mad retreat away from the Hyland guards. The sounds of clattering boots and the twinging of arrows being set loose slowly grew progressively distant as the group of Rolance citizens and their pursuers ran further and further away from the village.

    A deceptive tranquility returned to the dirt street where Velvet stood, her daemon arm pulsing gently by her side in the brilliant light of the setting sun. Her steel boots crunched quietly underfoot as she turned wordlessly around, facing the group who had arrived behind her moments ago.

    Uncertainty was abundantly clear on Sorey’s expression, while Alisha had a hand to her mouth in abject horror. Mikleo eyed her as if she were some sort of caged beast. Velvet’s expression didn’t change in the slightest as her eyes slid away from them, past the rooves of the nearby buildings to gauge the progress of the setting sun.

    “You all should hurry up and rest. We have more travelling to do tomorrow.” Her words were calm as she walked past them, her dirtied raven hair sweeping behind her in the cool evening breeze.

    Sorey watched her back recede as she walked away by herself, a concern frown forming in the wake of her departure. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulders at the others, absently noting that the sounds of distant battle had since faded into nothingness beyond the outskirts of the village. He refused to think about the implications of that observation.

    “...Come on guys,” he urged quietly, meeting their troubled eyes. “Let’s go.”

    High up above, the skies grew darker still as the last rays of sunlight faded from view, the rich golden hues of the heavens slowly giving way to the dark blue shades of night.

    ---​

    Author’s Note: Hey folks, apologies for the delays between chapters! Hope everyone’s doing alright.

    Merry Christmas, all :)

    - CloudFry, December 25th, 2020

     
    Last edited: Dec 26, 2020
  4. Threadmarks: C26 - Insomnia
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 26 – Insomnia.

    For the first time since her return, the crisp sea breeze wafted against Velvet’s face, bringing with it an inexplicable surge of familiarity. Her lips tightened at the emotions that nipped at the heels of the unbidden memories, threatening to distract her from the task at hand. With an almost imperceptible jerk of her head, she forced herself to ignore the winds breaking against her jacket and to focus on her surroundings.

    A disfigured, weather-worn marble statue wielding in one hand what had presumably once been a brilliant longsword stood alone in the center of the crumbling stone plaza. Ancient buildings twisted beyond recognition by constant winds and sea spray stood in a semicircle around the plaza, facing the statue and the flat horizon of the open ocean beyond. Scattered groups of townsfolk dressed in shabby clothing went about their business before the partially boarded-up façades, some casting glances at the conspicuous group where they stood. The bright afternoon sun beamed calmly directly overhead, washing the seaside city of Meliodas in a steady light.

    Rose glanced to the side, tracking a pair of shady-looking individuals walking about the plaza and noting how other people appeared to be giving them a wide berth as if they were predators strolling amongst the herd. “Well... while it doesn’t seem like an especially welcoming place,” she noted, raising a hand to scratch her head, “I don’t really see anything out of the ordinary.”

    The trails of fabric hanging from Dezel’s coat danced in the breeze making landfall as he tilted his head upwards. “There’s no storm like last time. Not even a cloud in the sky,” he stated, feeling the winds with quiet concentration.

    Alisha swept her gaze across the ragged stone plaza and the many buildings married to the network of sloping streets beyond, noting, “Though I have never once visited in person, going by what I know of this city, all appears to be as expected.”

    Sorey glanced around as well, his expression tinged with a hint of dismay as he confirmed his companions’ words. “Yeah... it does seem like there isn’t anything odd here,” he agreed dimly, his embroidered cloak briefly wafting upwards in the breeze behind him. Doubt creeping in, he shook his head and turned to the group with a candid expression. “All this might’ve been a dead end after all,” he admitted.

    Lailah’s expression was gentle as she interlaced her hands together. “Let us not concede defeat so soon,” she advised, drawing Sorey’s rather disappointed gaze, “we did come all this way, after all.”

    “That’s right.” Mikleo crossed his arms and gestured reasonably in the air. “Even if there isn’t an iris gem here, we still might be able to unearth something about Heldalf and his past. We should look for clues in the city.”

    Despite the growing evidence that her initial reservations were in truth valid, Velvet held a detached expression on her face. “Fine,” she said aloud, drawing the attention of the group. “We can split up and investigate the city. We’ll regroup later.” Those short words having been said, she turned around, putting her back to the rest of them, and set off into the depths of the city by herself. A trailing wisp of the sea breeze chased after her as she left, toying with her jacket and hair.

    Sorey watched her leave, concern clear on his face.

    The therion had been noticeably more silent than usual. In the short time in which he’d come to know the strange former Lord of Calamity, he’d grown keenly cognizant of her tendency to stifle her own feelings, contently acting in the roles the world had seen fit to label her without a care of the person who she was. Right now, heedless of her hard exterior, he could tell that she had been affected by her encounter with the group of refugees.

    Yet he could see no way he could help; no way to correct her self-destructive actions and thoughts as they occurred before his eyes, despite all that had transpired between the two. It was enough to drive him up a wall.

    “Investigate the city for clues, huh?” Mikleo’s words jerked Sorey’s attention back to the group as they turned inwards in discussion. “That’s easier said than done,” he muttered, shaking his head. “The city covers a great deal of land and over half of the buildings are unoccupied. My knowledge of it is very limited – I don’t even know who that statue is supposed to be.” He gestured with his head towards the disfigured, featureless statue of the warrior standing in the center of the plaza.

    Alisha’s eyes travelled the length of the statue before arriving at the base, noting the worn plaque long since made illegible by the sea winds and spray. “It’s likely that nobody does anymore. As I understand it, many such things in this city are just like that.” She glanced around, surveying the hardened-looking citizens walking about the disparate plaza. “...I would suggest that we travel in pairs,” she said, lowering her voice cautiously. “There is a reason for why this place is in such a state, after all.”

    Edna tilted her head to the side, her amber hair waving in the breeze. “Sure. We have to make sure you three don’t get mugged blind, after all. Especially Sorey,” she added matter-of-factly, settling the tip of her closed umbrella on the stones with an audible tap.

    “I feel like I should be defending myself here,” Sorey remarked with a subtle grin. With that, he reached over his shoulder to procure his copy of the Celestial Record. The weathered pages crackled as he flipped to the entry of Meliodas, displaying a rough map of the city to the others. “...Here,” he provided. “If we split up like so, we can cover a good chunk of ground at once.”

    “Fine by me,” Rose bobbed her head in acceptance of the plan. “Then let’s going – we’re burning daylight here!” She glanced over her shoulder at the silent wind seraph behind her. “You coming?”

    Dezel crossed his arms in response. “Sure.”

    As the two left, Alisha blinked as Edna walked past her, only to stop and glance at her expectantly. “...Well?” the seraph asked rather impatiently.

    The princess blinked a few more times at her before snapping to. “Oh! Yes, let us go, Edna,” she agreed, joining the earth seraph as they departed in the opposite direction to Rose and Dezel.

    In their wake, Mikleo gave Sorey a nod, wordlessly indicating his companionship. That left Lailah by herself, who shook her head gently in response to the Shepherd’s questioning look. As they left to explore their own section of the city, she turned to face the rest of the plaza with a distant look forming in her eyes.

    Her heels clicked rhythmically on the cracked and malformed cobblestones as she traversed the streets of Meliodas, absently staying out of the paths of the few humans walking the deserted passages. The designs of the surrounding buildings seemed to gape down at her with naked windows as eyes, accented with sharp, fragmented designs lining their dilapidated walls. Every turn seemed to elicit more of the strange feelings simmering in the murkiness of her mind, increasing the growing sensation in her chest.

    She came to a halt in a shadowed alleyway and held a hand up to her head, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes. Yet try as she might, she was simply unable to pinpoint why she was feeling like so. The sensations were like fish in a rushing river that she grasped at in complete futility – infuriatingly close to something tangible. A frustrated huff escaped her lips as she snapped her eyes open and twisted around, blindingly rounding the corner and walking onward as if to escape the creeping feelings encroaching upon her mind.

    A pair of hands suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, forcibly jolting her from her stupor. Centuries of developed instincts directed her actions as she brought her hand up, mana flowing instantly at her command to form a fireball before her.

    “Lailah!”

    Velvet’s voice cut through the air with sharp clarity, causing the flames in her palm to go out immediately. She blinked rapidly, the world fading back into clarity before her eyes.

    The therion held her hands on her shoulders, holding her steady before the ankle-high planter that she had been about to trip over. The two of them stood in what appeared to be an overgrown courtyard in the center of an abandoned building complex, the sun shining high in the sky above the skeletons of dead trees leaning overhead. A pair of roosting pigeons, startled by the loud noise, took flight from one of the many darkened windows looking out into the courtyard.

    Lailah caught her breath as the sound of the fluttering pigeons faded, meeting the therion’s inquisitive expression with an embarrassed yet grateful look. “Thank you, Velvet,” she mumbled self-consciously, steadying herself with her help. “It would seem that my mind wandered off.”

    Velvet examined her with careful eyes as she let go of her shoulders. “...Is something the matter?” she asked as she took a step back, returning the seraph’s space. There was a surprising degree of care in her gaze that gave Lailah all the more reason to wave her hands in the air.

    “I-I was merely being a little silly, that’s all,” she promised with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s no cause for concern.” When the therion continued to watch her, unconvinced by her words, she moved to swiftly change the subject.

    Her heels sank into the overgrown grass as she turned around, pivoting her head to observe the surrounding courtyard. “This is such a strange place,” she remarked aloud, her eyes following the curtains of vines trailing in parallel down from the upper levels of the surrounding buildings. “The styles of these buildings truly are of a different age to those of this era. Even the sanctuary in which I resided for so long bears no resemblance to these places.”

    Despite the painfully transparent attempt to change the subject, Velvet chose to let it go. “That’s right,” she replied, crossing her arms. “I was watching when Sorey drew that sword and formed the pact with you in Ladylake.” She tilted her head slightly to the side, curiosity in her gaze. “How long were you in that sword for?”

    “Oh, my!” Lailah gasped suddenly, bending over and staring intently at an object atop the encasing bricks of one of the courtyard planters. “Look, Velvet! This rock...” she urged enthusiastically, staring at the rock with a near manic fixation. “Do you see how round it is? How perfectly smooth it is...?”

    Velvet’s expression had fallen into a deadpan. She didn’t bother replying.

    Stars sparkled in the fire seraph’s eyes as she shot upright with the stone in question in her hands, chirping, “It’s a masterpiece! Why, it could even be a symbol of the great Arma Dylan’s perfection. Utterly a-stone-ishing!” Her charmed punchline echoed off the surrounding walls of the abandoned building, irritating the ears of her unimpressed audience.

    In the silence that had fallen in the wake of her pun, Velvet’s eyes abruptly transitioned from irritated to predatory, an unsettling smile forming on her lips. Her carved stage expression straining her face muscles, Lailah swallowed nervously at the intimidating sight. “Oh really?” The therion’s words were casual yet somehow also dripped liberally with malicious intent. “Remind me Lailah, how did you end up meeting Maotelus?” she asked offhandedly.

    Like clockwork, the seraph spun to the side in a full revolution, madly affixing her gaze to the brilliant stone in her hands. “With such smoothness, I might be able to compete in the normin centennial marble race!” she breathed. “I could place in the top tier – orb even better!”

    Without giving her a chance to take a breath, Velvet gave her a curious glance. “I suppose it’s worth asking again,” she added, shifting on her feet. “Why did he entrust the silver flame to you?”

    “In truth, this rock is truly too valuable of a find to be wasted on something as menial as a marble race,” Lailah refuted urgently, shaking her head. “...No, I’ve decided,” she proclaimed, “I shall use this masterpiece in a different roll.”

    “He must’ve trusted you a great deal to have given you his powers,” Velvet pondered absently, holding a finger to her lips in thought, “...or he was just desperate. One way or another, things ended up with him being corrupted and under Heldalf’s control.” Her eyes narrowed in on the seraph, her brow furrowing. “Just what happened, Lailah?”

    Panic seeped in the other woman’s eyes as she floundered for a brief moment before regaining her bearings. “T-that’s it!” she declared, raising a decisive finger in the air. “I shall provide it to the seraphic geologist’s association! Thus, we as a society can benefit from a more well-rounded understanding of such things...”

    Silence formed in the wake of her words, cold and unyielding in the midst of the motionless, forgotten courtyard. Lailah dropped her gaze and flinched sheepishly at Velvet’s expression of dry amusement. “T-that was the best I could do with what I had!” she declared defensively, holding her so-precious rock closely to her chest as heat rose to color her cheeks.

    Velvet let out an amused chuckle as she laid a hand on her hip, giving her a forgiving look. “It’s alright, Lailah. I understand,” she replied, well aware of how the seraph felt about the restrictions of her oath when it came to the group’s objectives. A stray memory bubbled to the back of her mind, causing her to add as an afterthought, “...If anything, I’m accustomed to the jokes. My older sister used to crack stupid ones like that all the time.”

    Curiosity formed on Lailah’s expression at the foreign piece of information of the ambiguous hellion. She tilted her head, striving to be delicate as she carefully asked, “Your older sister?”

    Overgrown grass crunched gratuitously under Velvet’s boots as she turned to the side, striding past the planters towards the center of the hallowed courtyard where the largest of the dead trees stood. Despite how entirely irrelevant the information was to the situation and the task at hand, she found the words escaping her lips easily. “Yeah. Celica always knew what to say to lighten up any situation. If any of us were fighting, she’d try and distract us by making some horrible, horrible joke,” she recalled aloud, gazing up at the limbs of the naked trees. She shook her head in amusement at the warm, fuzzy and indistinct memories bubbling to the surface in kind. “It ended up working more often than not.”

    The therion’s tone was so starkly different as she spoke – a soft and tender description that contrasted starkly with what the acts Lailah knew she had done and moreover were capable of. It was a side of her that rarely surfaced. Lailah strove to keep it aloft for longer. “She sounds like a wonderful person,” she remarked kindly, entwining her hands before her dress. “Was she perhaps the one who taught you to cook so well?”

    The memories of lessons came unbidden to Velvet’s mind, appearing clairvoyantly despite all the time that had passed. The laughter of her sister that had echoed around the warm house awash with sunlight at her innocent, childish questions. A smile spread on her face as she nodded. “She taught me everything our mom knew about cooking, and much, much more,” she explained tenderly. “Like... how to make the most of my money when grocery shopping. The stuff rice water can be used for. Cleaning my plate properly. How to use sugar to help a bump on the head.” Her gaze drifted down the length of the dead tree before her, her expression fading into melancholy in the silence of the deserted courtyard. “...What it means to be alive,” she added quietly.

    The warmth of the past seemed to dissipate like the embers of a dying flame as the darker memories encroached upon her mind, reawakened by her unusual reverie.

    Lailah tilted her head slightly at the somber words, recognizing the significance of those words to the therion, even if they held little to herself. It was clear that the hardened woman that was her companion had been through a great, great deal. The times which she would simply gaze into nothingness spoke volumes to that effect. This time however, she felt the strong desire to intervene between her and the ill thoughts she harbored.

    “He mentioned something about that, if I recall things properly,” she remarked aloud, treading carefully with her strategically emphasized words. “I do not believe that it made too much sense to me at the time, however.” Velvet blinked as she registered the unspoken meaning behind the words. She turned to the side to face the seraph with a curious expression as she elaborated, “We did not exchange a great deal of words. Yet, the one time that He did refer to you directly during one of our conversations, I recall Him saying something that seemed particularly strange.”

    A soft, understanding smile spread on her face as she met Velvet’s eyes. “I believe he said you were ’a nag,’” she recalled, amusement clear on her face. She shook her head, adding, “Naturally, I hadn’t the faintest notion of how that description could apply to a prior Lord of Calamity at the time. He provided no more insight into the matter to me however, so I thought nothing more of it.” She tilted her head to the side coyly. “From what I gather from the lessons of your older sister as well as how you berate our poor Shepherd and his own habits, I believe I understand it better now.”

    Despite herself, Velvet exhaled in an incredulous huff and glanced to the side, putting both hands on her hips. “...That little brat,” she muttered, her words warm. Heedless of the thoughts that had been swirling around in her mind, she found resounding clarity in the vision of the malak that she had given a name. No matter what, she remembered, she would do everything she needed to do to save him. Everything.

    By her side, her bandaged hand curled.

    Lailah’s heels fell on crushed grass as she stepped up to Velvet, her long hair swaying behind her back. “We should return to the search,” she proposed gently, an encouraging smile on her face. Velvet hesitated for a brief moment, her brow furrowing as she noticed something seeming... off about the seraph’s face. Yet she quickly dismissed the thought and nodded in affirmation, choosing to focus on the task at hand. Together, the seraph and the hellion turned around and headed for the exit, leaving the dead trees of the overgrown courtyard standing in solitude once more.

    ---​

    The muffled chatter of patrons on the patio of the first-floor bar drifted aimlessly through the glass windows, meshing with the crackling of the hearth to create a mellow atmosphere within the warmly lit room. The members of the Shepherd’s group sat assembled near the heat of the fire in the inn room they had reserved, settling down after a long day of travel and investigation. Outside, the silhouette of the waning moon hovered just over the buildings on the other side of the street amidst a cold, cloudy night.

    Sorey let out a disappointed sigh as he leaned back in his cross-legged position on the floor. “...Nothing at all, huh?” he asked. In response, the group shook their heads.

    “Basically,” Rose agreed, stepping up and plopping down beside the heat of the flames with a rather tired sigh. “Nobody that we bothered knew a thing about Heldalf.” She shrugged idly, adding, “The gang of street rats who tried to swipe my things didn’t seem have much to say about him either.”

    Sitting atop her bed near the hearth, Alisha shook her head again. “Edna and I similar fortunes,” she explained sadly, holding her arm close to her chest. “We failed to discover anything that might’ve indicated the presence of a corrupted iris gem the likes of which we saw in Lastonbell.”

    Edna’s boots sank into the rug as she walked over to the group, a steaming bowl full of soup in her hands. “All the humans were talking about was the coup in Rolance and how sluggish they felt,” she added disinterestedly, sitting down on the floor while exhaling to help cool down her supper. “Nothing about freak storms or monsters.”

    “It was the same for the two of us,” Mikleo said, shaking his head. “We even managed to find the exact places that were shown in the memory and looked in the surroundings for clues. But we found nothing.” He frowned, leaning forward in the chair upon which he sat. “The city’s just too big and too empty. Looking for clues about a single man is like looking for a needle in a haystack,” he stated.

    “...Be that as it may, we can’t stay here forever,” Sorey concluded, sitting forward in his seat with a contemplative expression. He shook his head, making a point to meet the gazes of everyone present. “We’ll probably have to write this one off, guys. I’m sorry for wasting everybody’s time,” he said. At his side, the fire burned brightly in the hearth, bathing his curled figure in a stark light.

    Rose tilted her head to the side understandingly, waving a reassuring hand. “Hey, no need for the long face. It was worth a shot in the first place – it’s better that now we know for sure.”

    “Hmph.” Dezel crossed his arms as he leant back on the wall beside the hearth. “If you say so,” he muttered, doubt clear in his words.

    The crackling of the fire and the din of the downstairs conversations filled the silence that followed. Edna sipped carefully from the hot bowl of soup where she sat. Alisha turned to her bedside, searching around through her travel pack for something in particular. With his crossed hands supporting his chin, Sorey stared into the flames with a slight frown on his face. “...I was so sure that the city was a clue in the memory,” he mumbled contemplatively, furrowing his brow.

    The crackling of the fire continued unerringly in the silence.

    Slowly, the hairs on the back of Sorey’s neck rose as he began to feel that there was something amiss. His gaze rose with increasing focus and alertness, meeting the confused gazes of the rest of the group in kind as they seemed to arrive at the same conclusion as well. They glanced around with wordless caution, all of a sudden on edge despite how normal everything seemed to be. In the background, the hearth continued to burn, merrily and noisily.

    “...Sorey.”

    The group turned to where Velvet sat curled up against one of the windowsills, gazing down into the streets below. She turned her head to face them in the silence, a deeply serious expression on her face. “They’re asleep,” she said.

    It was then that Sorey realized just had seemed off. The rumbling sound of conversation downstairs had abruptly halted, extinguished like the flame of a candle, leaving naught but a deathly, haunting silence behind. His boots sank into the rug underfoot as he got to his feet, walking up to Velvet’s side to look down through the window into the still night beyond.

    Bodies littered the patio of the bar downstairs, slumped over tables in pools of spilled drinks and collapsed bodily upon the wooden planks underfoot. The few passerby in the street too appeared to have fallen forward midstride, their limbs splayed around them on the cold and jagged cobblestones. Only the subtle rising and falling of their chests indicated that the people raggedly strewn about in the night below were still alive, all collectively asleep under the spell of an unnatural slumber.

    Sorey and Velvet exchanged a serious glance. Nothing more had to be said.

    The cold night air kissed their cheeks as they ventured out of the entrance to the inn into the abnormally still night air. Above, the partially filled moon radiated a soft, diffused blue light behind the rooves of the opposite buildings, shading the street with ominously long shadows that sought to overtake the glimmering lanterns and torches still burning brightly where they hung.

    A stray breeze blew down the length of the rows of ancient buildings, eliciting a shiver to run down Sorey’s spine as he hesitantly nudged the shoulder of a man who had collapsed on the street in front of the inn. The man shuddered at the contact, his face scrunching up as if in fear, yet remained in a deep slumber regardless. The Shepherd stood with narrowed eyebrows; his suspicions confirmed.

    “I sense a great source of malevolence emanating from deeper in the city,” Lailah stated softly, her heels clicking in the stones as she stepped forward. She swept her gaze around at the humans lying inanimate before them, her long hair waved in the cold night breeze. “Sorey’s hypothesis may be proven correct yet,” she noted.

    “Yes,” Alisha nodded seriously, readily feeling the battle lance strapped onto her back. “Let us not tarry in doing so.” With her words, the group set off into the night towards the center of the ghost city, littered by the unconscious bodies of its absent citizens.

    The waning moon hanging low in the cloudy skies was their only companion as they traversed the deserted intersections and lonely alleyways, their every sense on edge. In the haunting stillness, the long shadows seemed to take on lives of their own, grasping out with jagged limbs having already doomed so many lives to slumber. Their footfalls upon the stones were deafening – their every step a great disturbance in an otherwise all-consuming silence in a frozen place.

    Mikleo crossed his arms and glanced at Edna. “I guess now we know why everyone was feeling sluggish,” he supposed quietly. He put a hand to his chin, glancing to the side as the group passed a couple who had fallen in the street beside one another. “I can’t imagine that the health of the citizens has been improving if this sort of thing has been happening every night,” he remarked. “This isn’t normal.”

    “...Now that you mention it,” Rose considered as she glanced to the side, alertly scanning the gaping windows and doorways of the abandoned ancient buildings as they passed, “Dezel and I did hear a group of people talking about weird accidents happening in the city. Stuff like people supposedly just dropping dead in the streets.”

    “Oh no,” Lailah breathed. “Could such things be happening because of this?”

    “Sounds like it’s possible. All the more reason to find the source and put an end to this,” Sorey concluded grimly, stepping forward with renewed purpose in his stride. “C’mon, guys,” he urged.

    The feeling of the malevolence only grew stronger the deeper they traversed into the dead city, permeating through the air in steady, pulsating waves. They followed the sensation, navigating through the streets between increasingly taller buildings illuminated by rare streetlights and strewn with more and more unconscious people. It was merely a matter of time before they located the true source in the plaza from which they had first begun their search earlier in the day.

    The one-armed, disfigured statue stood tall in the circular plaza just as it had in the day, raising its longsword defiantly into the air before the vast expanse of the moonlit ocean. Groups of people were scattered about the open space, all in various states of disarray lying where they had fallen amidst the freezing sea breeze washing across the cobblestones with impunity. The group stepped guardedly into the silent scene, their weapons drawn and held at the ready as they directed their gazes towards the source of it all. Sorey blinked at the sight that awaited him.

    The owl blinked back, its eyes shining past the putrid waves of malevolence oozing out of its body. The abnormally large avian had alighted upon the stones under the shadow of the one-armed statue, its brilliant golden feathers ruffling slightly in the ebbing and flowing winds of the ocean behind it. In the light of the waning moon, the animal seemed content to simply watch as the group approached it, a strange curiosity in its corrupted eyes.

    Sorey slowly straightened, loosening his wary grip upon the pommel of his sword in the presence of the strange, docile hellion. He glanced back at the rest of the group, pointing towards the gleaming purple orb embedded in the corrupted animal’s chest. Velvet returned his gaze, nodding wordlessly.

    Together, the two of them stepped forward, the rest of the group standing warily at the ready behind them. The owl hellion did nothing more but tilt its head slightly as the human and therion neared it. Another cool sea breeze blew from the vast expanse of the night ocean beyond, catching and wafting both Velvet’s hair and Sorey’s cloak as they came to a halt before it.

    Sorey exchanged a glance with his companion before he swiftly brought his left hand up, the Shepherd’s emblem gleaming in the moonlight. Their world burst into a conflagration of silver flames, followed by an all-encompassing wave of darkness.

    ---​

    Thick tendrils of ungodly malevolence gripped and clawed at him from all directions, completely enveloping his form in an oppressive, overwhelming blanket of miasma. He gritted his teeth as he regained his awareness, striving hard to ignore the horrid sensation as the awful memories of his last time in such a place forced shivers of phantom agony down his spine. It was all around him and everywhere – it was as if he were drowning far, far beneath the surface of the ocean, his life slowly being squeezed out of his lungs as the unimaginable expanse of malevolence engulfed him.

    Velvet’s claw extruded outward with an audible squelch, emerging from her sheathe of bandages to gorge upon the feast of malevolence. The unsettling gulping of the monstrous arm reverberating in the air, Sorey exhaled a shaky breath of relief as the pressure eased from his body. After a moment, he gathered his wits and cracked his eyes open, allowing the murky, tainted light to flood his vision.

    The city of Pendrago sprawled out before him, a sea of shingled rooves of buildings linked by a complex web of narrow cobblestone streets that spilled out into the vast, hazy expanse of the Pearloats Pasture beyond, barely contained by the tall and unyielding stone walls wrapping around its borders. The sun hung overhead in the hazy sky, its dim light meekly penetrating the plumes of malevolence hovering ominously above the city to illuminate the paths of the many citizens traversing the bustling metropolis.

    His racing heart slowly calming in his chest, Sorey took another deep breath, turning his gaze from his surroundings towards the clawed therion standing by his side. “...Thanks,” he exhaled gratefully, eyeing the vast amounts of malevolence actively being absorbed by the therion’s claw with each passing moment.

    She gave him a meaningful look in return, gesturing with her head to the side. “Come on,” she urged simply, turning to face the busy city street behind them. Her meaning was clear – they had little time. He replied with a nod, steeling himself to complete the task at hand. Together, the two stepped down from the raised dais overlooking the city to descend into the ebbing and flowing crowds of people below.

    It did not take them very long at all to register the commotion. Cheers and cries of joy echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings, drawing their attention to a procession of armored bannermen parting the crowd at the end of the street. Their silver armor glinted brightly even amidst the hazy sunlight as they marched, proudly decorated with the familiar rich red and gold colors of the Platinum Knights.

    Through the vast crowds separating them and the procession, Sorey caught a brief glimpse of a lone figure walking in the center of the royal escort – a man garbed in a deep black and gold attire striding forward with power and confidence in his every move. The question of his identity was rendered non-existent by the roaring chants of the crowd.

    “HELDALF! HELDALF! HELDALF!”

    The two eventually managed to push through the cheering people enough to gain a better view, just in time to watch the revered general, using the path cleared by his guard, disappear within the shadowed entryway of a rather small building at the end of the street. The wooden door shut firmly behind him with an audible thunk, blocked bodily by the dozens of Platinum Knights guarding their charge. The crowd’s cries grew to a climax at the man’s departure, filled with joyful whooping, cheering, and whistling.

    Amidst the clamor of the surrounding people, Sorey crossed his arms and glanced sidewise at Velvet with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You said Heldalf was the general of the Rolance army, right?” he asked, sweeping his gaze at the enthusiastic gazes of the cheering people around him. “...I’m guessing this must be during the height of his time,” he deduced absently. “The people here sure love him.”

    At his side, Velvet’s eyes carefully scrutinized the guarded doorway where the general had disappeared through. Amidst the crowd and the dozens of well-trained knights, the odds of forcing their way through unscathed appeared to be slim. “We’ll have to break in somehow,” she concluded, narrowing her eyes. “He has to be the subject of the memory.”

    Following her gaze, Sorey frowned, also considering the predicament at hand. After a moment, he blinked as he noticed the empty alleyway resting alongside an adjacent building. He nudged Velvet. “I have an idea,” he confided, gesturing towards the alleyway. “It’s about something that Rose and the other Scattered Bones members taught me.”

    Inside, the joyful calls of the crowd grew muffled by the walls of polished oak wood, allowing the sound of Heldalf’s boots landing upon the creaking planks to resound in the silence as he turned the corner of the hallway. His royal coat sweeping behind him, the general stepped through the entryway and down the steps into the main body of the tavern that was completely deserted save for a lone man seated at a table in the center of the room. A man with dirty blonde hair in a dark blue jacket wearing a single black fingerless glove on his left hand.

    The seated man glanced up from the opened book lying on the table at the sound of Heldalf’s footsteps, a steeled, expectant expression on his face as he watched him approach. The general’s steps fell rhythmically on the wood as he strode past the vacant tables and chairs towards him, holding the man’s gaze with his own. His steps came to an abrupt halt as he stopped before the table, glancing down at the book lying open on the table. His expression was carved from stone.

    “...Do you ever ponder how the two of us ended up as such?” Heldalf’s voice thrummed with a slightly dulled yet nonetheless authoritative edge that resounded in the confined space of the empty tavern.

    In response to his words, the other man tilted his head slightly to the side, a distant expression on his face. “Not a day passes in which I do not,” he replied, idly playing with the writing quill in his bare right hand. “I do believe you to be the most impressive out of the two of us, however,” he added smoothly. “From lowly gutter rat to General of the Rolance Army. Truly an astonishing tale.”

    Heldalf gave the seated man an assertive look, gesturing meaningfully at the partially inscribed book on the table. “One that you have been refraining from telling, I trust,” he added pointedly. “Adoption by a royal family is hardly a worthwhile story to tell in a tome relating to the history of the world.”

    “So you always say,” the other man replied drearily, waving his gloved hand in the air. “Never mind how that story started with you stealing the purse of a noble.” He chuckled dryly at the familiar recollection. In response to the general’s wordless glare, he splayed his hand open in surrender, reassuring, “Do not fret, Heldalf. I have mentioned your existence in my writing equally as many times as I have mentioned my own.” His hand fell to the table as he glanced down at the partially finished page in front of him. “That is to say, none.”

    Heldalf grunted in satisfaction, returning his gaze to the familiar man before him. “...It is good to see you again, old friend,” he uttered after a pause, extending a hand in offering.

    The other reciprocated without hesitation, standing from his seat to clasp the general’s hand and bring him into an embrace, a smile clear on his face. “Likewise,” he promised.

    It was at that moment that footsteps echoed in the hallway behind them, drawing their attention to someone else stepping into the quiet tavern. The two separated from their embrace, Heldalf turning towards the newcomer with a calm expression on his face. “Brother,” the general greeted, gesturing with his head towards the man standing beside him. “This is the man of whom I spoke. Consider yourself fortunate – he is a particularly difficult person to find.”

    His brother gave the stranger a friendly smile as he approached. “I will indeed,” he answered Heldalf’s words happily as he came to a halt. “I’ve heard the rumors, of course, but I’d never thought I’d actually see a man like you in person.” He bent over in a deeply respectful bow, before reaching out and offering his left hand in greeting. “The name is Eric Heldalf, sir,” he stated warmly. “Words cannot express how truly honored I am to meet a Shepherd of legend such as yourself – I thank you greatly for coming here on my behalf.”

    The other man in the dark blue jacket had a kind smile on his face as he grasped Eric Heldalf’s hand with his gloved left hand wearing emblazoned with the sigil of the Shepherd.

    “Michael,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand with a tight grip. “Worry not – a brother of Heldalf’s is a brother of mine,” he reassured firmly. “I would be glad to assist you with your dilemma.”

    On the other side of the tavern, standing behind the entryway to the bar of the tavern, Sorey’s expression had fallen into one of complete befuddlement.

    “Shepherd... Michael?” he mumbled under his breath; confusion clear in his expression. He exchanged a look with Velvet standing across the doorway to him. “But the Celestial Record didn’t mention anything about a Shepherd in the past 200 years – could it have been mistaken...?” he asked helplessly.

    Velvet glanced at him, a focused expression on her face as she absorbed the implications of it all. There were too many to consider at that moment. She shook her head sharply, dismissing the thoughts from her head and instead focusing on the task at hand. “Whatever the case, we’re almost out of time,” she whispered, drawing Sorey’s attention away from his raging thoughts and to the pulsing arm dangling off her frame at her side. “We need to move, now.”

    After a brief moment of hesitation, he nodded his head, choosing to file the revelation away for later analysis. “...Okay,” he agreed quietly, steeling himself. “Then let’s go.”

    With coordinated movements, the two lunged through the entryway and into the tavern, clearing the height of the bar in a single leap and falling upon their alarmed targets before they could react properly. Velvet slashed her demonic arm through the air with a cry as she fell, slamming her razor-sharp claw into Eric Heldalf and tossing him bodily across the length of the tavern with a pained cry. Sorey thrust his palm outward the moment he landed, making contact with the body of the man named Michael and sending him sprawling with a deafening blast of mana.

    “You would dare?!” Heldalf’s furious roar echoed in amidst the confines of the isolated space as he whirled backwards, his sword singing as he drew it from the sheath at his waist. “Who are you?!” he demanded, his eyes shooting between Sorey and Velvet as they faced off against him as one. Wordlessly, Sorey shot a confirming glance at Velvet who responded in kind. In the next heartbeat, the two charged forward, their boots slamming on the wooden floorboards and their weapons singing as they tore through the air towards the general, who gritted his teeth and readied his stance.

    His expression suddenly relaxed.

    “...Ah, Shepherd.” Even as they neared him, he slowly glanced off to the side, a thoughtful look forming on his face. “...I see,” he observed markedly. “So he is reacting to your presence.”

    Sorey blinked in confusion.

    BOOM!

    With a violent, all-encompassing detonation, the tavern suddenly tore apart, the walls, floor, and ceiling rupturing in jagged lines of blinding malevolence. Thrown off-balance by the violent trembling of the floor, the two grounded to a halt and braced themselves, casting about wildly as the memory around them began to crumble. The reeling figures of Eric Heldalf and of the Shepherd Michael dissolved amidst the chaos, joining the remainder of the memory as it was relegated to nothing but a dark void of miasma.

    Then, in the very next moment, Sorey found himself standing in snow.

    He whirled around in confusion, his heart racing inside his chest as he struggled to comprehend the dramatic change in his surroundings. He was thankful when he noted that Velvet still stood at his side despite the chaos, until he belatedly registered the expression on her face. An entangled mix of emotions clearly and visibly warred for dominance within his companion as she stared at the sight before her. Slowly, Sorey followed her gaze, taking in the world in which he now stood.

    The sharp, acidic smell of smoldering sulfur permeated the freezing cold air, the light snowfall tainted with traces of ash. A haunting silence dominated the world, punctuated only by the crackling of residual flames and the haunting moan of the frigid sea breeze. Naval vessels of sizes that Sorey had only ever seen depicted in ancient textbooks groaned miserably from where they laid, their bent and contorted masts protruding out from the frigid waters beside the docks.

    On the ground before them laid dozens of dead bodies, their limbs contorted at unnatural angles. Snow alighted softly upon the metal of their unmoving armor, soaking up the blood while slowly burying each corpse where they had fallen within shadow graves. Claw marks streaked gratuitously across the ground, ripping deep grooves into the stone of the port and occasionally intersecting with where a soldier had fallen, his armor crushed like tinfoil in the path of a beast’s rampage.

    Sorey felt sick.

    Despite all the time that had passed, the appearance of the scene of Hellawes in flames, violently rendered in the stark lighting of hazy malevolence, unleashed a sudden onslaught of memories in Velvet’s mind. She recalled it all in a single instant. The screams of her victims. The crying and cursing of the people that she harmed. The searing hatred and lust for vengeance. The name of her brother, and the name of his killer. It was as if a bound wound that had sat for weeks had been torn violently open once more.

    She curled her daemon claw into a tight fist and bit her lip hard, welcoming the spike of pain as it tore through her spiraling mind. None of this was new. She had something else to focus on. With that universally grounding thought, the Lord of Calamity’s eyes sharpened with acute clarity. Her gaze locked onto the one thing that did not correctly match the memories of the scene.

    Heldalf’s gaze was affixed on her from where he stood before the ruined docks, wordlessly observing her reaction. A cold sea breeze swept from the south, causing his black and gold military coat to ripple behind him. Amidst the silence of the scene of death, the man spoke, his lower, guttural voice the one that they were both familiar with.

    “This memory is of great significance to him,” he observed aloud, moving his gaze slowly about the desecrated port. “It was the first to emerge when he sensed your presence.”

    Tearing his eyes away from the bodies at his feet, Sorey struggled to comprehend what the man was saying. “’Him?’” he mumbled.

    “Maotelus.” Velvet did not tear her gaze away from Heldalf as she answered the Shepherd, crossing her arms before her chest. “...In the last gem, we heard his voice. He said my name,” she muttered. Her eyes soon narrowed at the one who was responsible for it all. “This isn’t just a tampered iris gem,” she growled. “It’s something different, isn’t it?”

    The human figure of the Lord of Calamity nodded his head, a pleased expression on his face as he laid his hand on the pommel of his sword. “These fragments contain his memories of the world, drawn by my command.” His regal boots crackled upon the icy stones of the port as he turned and strolled to the side, idly examining his human hands as he did so. “As such, they are connected to him, as extensions of his domain.”

    Velvet’s eyes narrowed. “...All this malevolence is coming from him, then,” she realized darkly, glancing around at the all-encompassing haze of malevolence still continuously seeping through her arm by her side. Her lips drew tightly in a wordless, restrained fury.

    Snow crackled under Sorey’s boot as he stepped forward in the wake of Heldalf’s words. “Why?! he demanded urgently, slowly putting the pieces together in his mind. “Why would you extract and plant these memories for us to find? What are you after?”

    The hellion came to a halt at the Shepherd’s words, his eyes staring off into the distance beyond. The falling snow mixed with ash alighted in his golden hair, of no consequence to him as he seemed to ponder the question for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was candid.

    “You intrigue me, Shepherd,” he stated plainly. He turned around, affixing his gaze to Sorey’s with a calm expression on his face. “During our first encounter, I saw nothing but white purity synonymous with the naïve concept of a Shepherd.” He tapped a single finger on the pommel of his decorated sword, his gaze shifting towards the woman standing by his side.

    “Yet I had grossly misjudged the truth. Heedless of the manipulations I enacted, to goad your pure and naïve self into self-righteousness, you never once acted how you should have.” He shook his head, curiosity plain in his expression. “...Thus, I find that I wish to see what a Shepherd such as yourself will choose to do when you truly understand,” he stated quietly, holding Sorey’s gaze. “When you have been shown all that needs to be shown.”

    Sorey frowned at the strange intensity in the human Heldalf’s eyes. Even though he was keenly aware of the true nature of the monster speaking to him, he could not help but consider how human the Lord of Calamity was behaving. It reminded him far too keenly of another.

    As if reading his mind, Heldalf spoke once more, his words drifting in the frigid air of the blood-soaked docks, “For the sins of the past speak volumes for the present.”

    Sorey’s jaw set as his gaze was inevitably drawn back to the corpses lying in the snow, surrounded by sets of the infinitely familiar claw marks of his companion. Slowly, his eyes rose towards where she stood in the snow, watching him with a stoic expression on her face. Her posture was casual – the message in her eyes clear.

    He had known from the very beginning that the woman who had lied about her true name to him had a darkness that she kept contained within herself. He had watched as the clawed hellion tore apart and devoured hellions that could have been saved. He had seen the memories planted by Heldalf that had depicted her in her relentless conquest, crushing all who had gotten in his way. He himself had experienced firsthand the callousness of Velvet Crowe as she lied and manipulated him as a tool for her own uses, to be thrown away if proven unfit for the job. Now here she stood, uncaringly, with the bloody bodies at her feet – a visceral, real memory, fully accompanied by the smell of death and ash.

    Yet, she had been there with him, in the times when he needed it the most. Through all of the lies and manipulation, she had guided him to this point, for better or for worse. She had cared for him and his friends, even when it wasn’t necessary for her goals. She held a human side within herself that she actively refused to recognize. Heedless of her sins, heedless of the blood that she had spilt, he had made a decision that night in the wilderness of Lakehaven Heights to help her.

    And that was what he planned to do.

    Having firmly reminded himself of his true beliefs, Sorey’s grip on his sword tightened as he turned to face Heldalf, determination etched into his expression. His boots crackled in the snow as he stepped over the bodies, walking towards the general watching him with an intent gaze. “Fine,” he said, his voice echoing amidst the destroyed docks. “I’ll do my best to try and understand what you have to show me.” He came to a halt before Heldalf, his lips upturning into a frown as he carefully studied the image of the man that the hellion had once been.

    “...But know that we will stop you.” His words were absolute, his gaze hard as he drew his sword back, the Shepherd’s cloak fluttering behind him as he did so. “We will save Maotelus from you, no matter what,” he promised grimly. His ceremonial sword slid deep into the general’s stomach with a wet squelch, spurts of blood oozing out from the wound and staining his royal black attire.

    Heldalf failed to react in agony despite the blade in his stomach. Instead, he took a single step back, the blade still embedded in him, and met the Shepherd’s gaze. There was almost a kind of sadness in his eyes.

    “I expect nothing less,” he promised quietly. With that, he stepped backwards and fell off the edge of the pier, his bloodstained coat wrapping his body plunging into the freezing cold waters below.

    The splash of impact caused a dull thrum to echo throughout the world, the surrounding scene in the ancient port city beginning to waver in form and color as if melting. Having done what needed to be done, Sorey turned to face Velvet amidst the fading dream, his expression softening. She returned his gaze peculiarly, surprise evident in her expression. In doing so, she failed to notice as the corpses at her feet and the torn and burnt buildings of Hellawes faded, engulfing both her and the Shepherd in an endless expanse of nothingness.

    ---​

    The silver flames of purification glistened blindingly in the night air, throwing the rest of the moonlit plaza in stark lighting and framing the figures of Velvet and Sorey as they reappeared amidst the conflagration. They blinked in disorientation at the abrupt transition from the memory, their eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of night.

    Sorey’s eyebrows furrowed as he eventually registered that the flames were failing to purify their target. The golden owl hellion still perched near motionlessly before the two of them, watching them with intermittently blinking eyes as the flames of purification puttered uselessly against its vibrant hide. Regardless of how much power he channeled with his left hand splayed out before him, there was no effect upon the hellion.

    After a moment longer, he curled his hand into a fist.

    The flames cut off immediately in response, falling into small embers that quickly vanished, leaving the owl hellion unscathed on the cobblestones before them. In the absence of the crackling of the flames, the two of them were able to register the low groaning of the groups of people lying on the stones slowly regaining consciousness. Sorey glanced around at the humans blearily rising to their feet and nodded to himself as he made a decision. He took a step back and met the strange hellion’s inhuman gaze, deliberately raising and then sheathing the sword in his hand with a quiet squeal of metal on metal.

    At his side, Velvet raised an eyebrow as his actions. “You’re letting it go?” she asked.

    He nodded wordlessly, maintaining eye contact with the enormous owl. It stared back at him; boundless intelligence clear in its amber eyes. Then, after a moment longer, it spread its wings and pushed itself up into the air with the aid of its legs and the powerful sea breeze. It soared upwards into the moonlit sky like a golden star, quickly receding into the darkness as it departed into the heavens.

    In its wake, Sorey turned to face Velvet, a calm expression on his face. “Remember what I said in Ladylake,” he reminded her, his lips spreading into a soft smile. “My dream is to bring about a world in which all beings willing to coexist can thrive. I meant what I said, Velvet. I’m not backing down from that – not for a moment.”

    She blinked. Of all the things that she had been anticipating the Shepherd to say in the aftermath of the bloody scene that had been so suddenly drawn from her past, that had not been one of them. She narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, closely scrutinizing his expression for any hint of duplicity. After a long moment, having found none, she finally shook her head in exasperation. “...You’re annoyingly stubborn, you know that?” she sighed, her lips twitching upward in a wry smile despite herself.

    Sorey grinned brightly in response. His grin then disappeared as he cranked his mouth open into a wide yawn, his pent-up exhaustion seemingly settling in all of his limbs all at once and leaving him wavering on his feet.

    Velvet crossed her arms and looked on with dry amusement as he struggled to even stay standing, lack of sleep and the long days of travel taking its toll on his body. “...You sure talk big for someone who can’t even take proper care of themselves,” she muttered. Her gaze rose as she noticed the remainder of the group running towards them from across the plaza. “Come on.” She laid a supporting hand on his shoulder which he gratefully welcomed in his exhaustion.

    Together, the two of them returned to the rest of the group underneath the shadow of the one-armed statue quietly watching the scene from above. Another stray ocean breeze arrived as they departed together, sweeping about the quiet plaza amidst the tranquil light of the waning moon.

    A trace of a distant memory, fading soundlessly into the night.

    ---​

    Author’s Note: For good measure, here’s another update to commemorate the two-year anniversary of the creation of this fic. Thank you all so much for joining me!

    Happy New Year, all.

    - CloudFry, January 1st, 2021
     
  5. Threadmarks: C27 - Throne
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 27 – Throne.

    Thunder rumbled and rolled amidst the hot, humid air, the distant vibrations causing the sprawling cobblestones below to tremble. A dense blanket of rugged clouds engulfed the sky, suffocating the world amidst a dreadful sensation of stillness.

    The capital city of Pendrago laid frozen in the stillborn afternoon. Debris littered streets. Boards hung haphazardly nailed to windows. Vibrant colors accenting rooves and windowsills laid muted under the dim lighting. Not a soul could be seen anywhere amidst a desolate wasteland that once was the bustling metropolis at the heart of the Rolance empire.

    CLANG!

    With a grunt, Zaveid flicked his wrist, throwing a glance around him as his pendulum whirled back to him with a snap, having deflected off the sword of a hellion. All around him, the sounds of battle resounded off the ancient stone walls of the courtyard. The Pendrago castle loomed above it all, silent and unyielding amidst the overcast sky.

    He cursed, swiftly leaping away as the enormous pigman hellion he'd been attacking rammed its enormous sword into the cobblestones where he'd been standing. The stone cracked and caved inward with a violent bang.

    "Chill out, man!" he yelled. With his long hair whirling about him, he raised his arm. "Wind Blade!"

    The hellion let out a roar of agony as razor-sharp neon green ribbons converged in one massive vortex, hurling it backwards. It crashed with an enormous thud against one of the walls of the courtyard before sliding down onto the ground, motionless. Zaveid let out a breath.

    "Zaveid! Watch out!"

    BANG!

    The wind seraph jerked in surprise before lunging away, an explosion of mana right behind him causing heat to wash over the back of his neck. With the aid of his artes, he was able to flash through the air a few meters away from the blast radius with moments to spare.

    He landed in an awkward heap on the cobblestones. "Now hold on there just a minute!" he yelled indignantly as he pushed himself back to his feet. "Last I checked, we were on same team!"

    Sliding through the air to arrive next to the man, Bienfu made a face as he turned back towards the horde of hellions stumbling back to their feet after the explosion. "I saved your life, bien. You should be thanking me," the normin seraph replied curtly.

    "Oh, thank you for nearly frying me to a crisp," Zaveid drawled, charging forward and slashing his pendulums in a whirlwind, slicing the beleaguered hellions in swift gestures. "Maybe I should thank these guys for trying to gut me while I'm at it?" He punctuated his words with a violent gesture, conjuring a set of giant fangs of wind that proceeded to smash together, gnashing a trio of hellions into submission at once.

    "Somebody's grouchy," Bienfu grumbled, flitting through the air and preparing another offensive arte.

    Zaveid leapt back and dodged another enormous monster's club, the long strips of leather dangling off his wrists whirling in the winds. "What can I say?" he replied. "A daring mission into the heart of enemy territory with a whole pack of humans to babysit leaves me feeling a teensy bit on edge."

    CLANG!

    Nearby, Captain Sergei let out a roar in a feat of incredible strength, pushing against a super-powered soldier's spear and proceeding to slice deftly through his guard. He briefly glanced up towards the castle of Pendrago looming above, a serious expression on his face.

    "Squad, to me!" he called loudly, raising his shining sword into the cloudy sky. "And lo, great seraphim protectors, I implore you, heed my call for aid!"

    "I do wish he would stop calling us that," Grimoirh sighed. In complete contrast to the battle taking place all around them, the normin seraph seemed bafflingly at ease, strolling atop the cobblestones with her book held open.

    With an almost absent gesture, she flicked her paw, causing a devastating detonation to occur across the plaza, tossing a group of pig hellions away like leaves on the wind, saving the lives of a handful of outnumbered Platinum Knights. Sergei called out his gratitude to the gracious invisible protectors into the air in response.

    "I dunno," Zaveid remarked, straightening and laying a hand on his belt. "It has a nice ring to it."

    "Says the guy with a mountain-sized ego," Bienfu shot back.

    "You say that like it's a bad thing," Zaveid drawled. "Chicks dig that sorta manly attitude, ya know?" He gave a fanged grin. "C'mon, Bienfu, lighten up. You'll never be able to pick up another girl like that last one with that sourpuss attitude."

    "Another girl...? That last-?! Bienfu's eyes bulged as he choked helplessly on the implication. "B-B-BIEN! That's n-not-!"

    Suddenly, an enormous roar emitted outwards, cutting off all conversation and drawing the attention of all towards a newcomer to the fray. The cobblestones underfoot trembled rhythmically as it approached, its height allowing it to tower over even the other pig hellions in the courtyard.

    "...Now this was the sorta thing that I was worryin' about." Zaveid shook his head as the powerful Dragonnewt slammed its claws into the gang of pig hellions in a terrible show of force. "You can't go into the lion's den without findin' some lions."

    Grimoirh's eyes narrowed. "Retreat may be prudent," she observed. "The three of ought to be capable of overcoming the beast, yet there would be casualties amongst the humans."

    "And after all this work to sneak into the city," Zaveid sighed, shaking his head. "This plan was risky to from the start – guess it's time to cut our losses, eh Bienfu?"

    He blinked and turned to Bienfu when there was no response. "...Hey," he prompted with raised eyebrows, sliding a hand back and forth in front of the shellshocked normin. "You hearin' me?"

    Grimoirh sighed.

    Sergei watched with a set jaw as a deceptively normal-looking man pushed his way into the fray of Rolance soldiers, throwing his arms around and tossing them all away like twigs. He didn't need resonance to be able to see how bad things had just become.

    He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of his squad, a team of over a dozen of his finest men joining him in his scouting mission on the capital. "Men," he yelled, "hold firm!" His grip tightened on the pommel of his sword as he readied his stance, facing the oncoming hellion as it turned towards the group of humans having finished off the other hellions. "Trust in the seraphim... and believe in the strength of your own two hands."

    His eyes narrowed. "Today... we fight for our families!" he cried. "Today, we fight for Rolance! Death to the usurper king, Heldalf, Lord of Calamity!"

    A fierce rallying cry was his response, the group of humans hardening their formation against the supernatural. "...No matter what," Sergei muttered to himself, as dry thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. "I will do right – in the name of the Shepherd Sorey!"

    The hellion raised its arm.

    Suddenly, a lone cry echoed out into the stillborn air. "Hawk!"

    "DAWNBREAKER!"

    CRACK!

    A massive explosion suddenly rippled through the air. Imperceptible moments later, a single projectile sliced forward, trailing a shockingly bright tail of white-hot fire streaking directly towards the Dragonnewt's head.

    BANG!

    With an enormous shockwave, the round detonated directly on target, engulfing the partially grown dragon entirely in a massive ball of dripping fire. The entire courtyard was momentarily engulfed in a blinding flare of vibrant orange hues, the stones of the city streets rattling violently.

    A barrage of follow-up explosions resounded in the aftermath of the first like the aftershocks of a powerful earthquake. Brilliant flashes of neon green and blazing red appeared like flashes of multicolored lightning alongside deafening booms. Flowerpots shattered as they tumbled helplessly from windowsills, poorly nailed boards collapsing under the strain.

    When the shaking had subsided and the flash had dissipated at last, Sergei lowered the arm shielding his eyes, and blinked in shock at the sight of the man that had been about to attack him and his men.

    Or rather, what remained of him.

    "Ow..."

    Leo's voice filled the courtyard as he moaned, stumbling forward and furiously rubbing his shoulder. "Son of a... I haven't done that in forever. I hate using that arte!" he growled grouchily. In his arms, he cradled a strange wooden and metal contraption, about half the length of a normal spear with a trail of smoke rising from one end.

    "Leo?" Sergei said in surprise, lowering his sword. He glanced at the foreign weapon in the man's hands. "I take it you've recovered what you were looking for?"

    The knight nodded as he stopped before the squad, still rolling his shoulders. "Yeah. No more time for subtlety and all." He glanced at the rest of the men and gestured over his shoulder. "C'mon, fellas. Mission's still on – let's go swipe something useful for the Shepherd and the others."

    Sergei nodded, straightening his posture and returning his bloodied sword to its sheath. "As ever, I am grateful to have you by our side, Leo. Let us make haste and pray that this skirmish did not alert too many of Heldalf's men."

    "Yeah, about that." Leo frowned as he glanced about the desecrated courtyard and the bodies of hellions littering the area. "Doesn't this strike you as a little odd?"

    "Such sparsity of guards?" Sergei shook his head. "Quite. And I haven't the slightest inkling why... Rolance military doctrine has always placed the security of the capital as among the highest priorities."

    He glanced upwards at the castle, standing ever so silently above. "...Yet when dealing with a Lord of Calamity for a king, perhaps our human logic does not hold," he considered quietly.

    "I guess..." Leo muttered, his brow furrowing.

    He then blinked, turning to grin at Sergei. "Oh, and by the way. Nice speech back there. Real rabble-rousing – pulled the heartstrings pretty good." He gave the other man a cheeky thumbs-up. "I was half-tempted to hold off there and just let you all lay into the guy."

    Sergei's eyebrow twitched. "While I appreciate the sentiment, need I remind you that you are under my direct command as a soldier of the Platinum Knights?" he stressed at length. "Your orders were to retrieve your weapon and to then return to aid us immediately."

    Leo shrugged carelessly. "But if the captain fell during his heroic charge, then I'm fairly certain I'd be the captain then!" He gave Sergei a cheshire grin. "Sounds like a nicer deal to me than being ordered around left and right," he drawled.

    "And you call your seraph companion lazy," Sergei sighed.

    He shook his head and glanced back at the others. "Come, men," he said, gesturing with this arm. "Let us return soon to Lastonbell and Tintagel with intelligence to turn the tide of this war and take back our home." He was met with murmurers of assent as the small squad of Platinum Knights followed his lead determinedly.

    Meanwhile, Leo glanced at the four seraphim, unseen by the other humans. "You guys good?" he asked. "Thanks for the help there."

    Grimoirh, in contrast to her customary attitude of refinement, nodded with a hint of steel in her eyes. "You were just in time. We're ready." Beside her, the seraphic wolf pup Hawk stood ready, despite hints of exhaustion in his stance from recently expelled mana.

    Zaveid grinned. "Well... most of us, anyway." He jerked his thumb towards Bienfu, who, for some reason, looked to be stuck in a mindless loop of muttering. Leo decided not to ask.

    Together, the team pushed onward into the capital, leaving behind a desecrated courtyard of simmering felled malevolence. The sky continued to thrum with distant thunder amidst the humid air as the men pushed into the castle itself, engulfing their world within the muted hallways of the ancient structure.

    It was utterly silent.

    Leo and Sergei exchanged a look. Together, the group continued deeper into the castle, carefully sliding around corners and maintaining a strict formation in the case of an ambush. Evidence of the coup that had taken place not long ago were everywhere – scorch marks, fallen armor and weapons, and the occasional rotting corpse.

    And yet there was not a single soul, human or hellion, to be seen.

    "Bien. This is so strange... where is everybody?" Bienfu, who had snapped out of his stupor a while back, muttered.

    Zaveid's eyes were hard. "Something's up," he said, his body tense as a bowstring. "I don't feel anything moving all with the wind. It's almost like the whole place is abandoned."

    "A trap, perhaps?" Grimoirh proposed, standing atop Zaveid's shoulder with her book in hand.

    "If it's a trap, it's a pretty lousy one," Leo answered lowly, carefully stepping around a corner at the head of the knights, sweeping his rifle around to cover the desolated hallways. "Didn't that guy go through a bunch of effort to kill the emperor and take over the entire nation as 'King Heldalf'"? Why would he not even bother defending what he'd taken over?"

    "I have very bad feeling about this," Sergei murmured, glancing around and narrowing his eyes. "...Come. Let us find answers."

    Following the captain as he tread down hallways infinitely familiar to him, the knights padded silently on the carpet through the hauntingly quiet castle. Shining floors once polished crystal clear for the sake of noblemen and aristocrats were painted red with dried blood. Doors of finely cut wood hung loosely on hinges, locks kicked wide open. Chambers with glistening stained glass stood solemnly empty, the windows looking out in a deathly still city. Through it all, not a single thing moved.

    Finally, they arrived at an enormous, closed door – one several times taller than the average height of a man. Sergei halted here and steadied himself, readjusting his grasp upon the pommel of his sword.

    He glanced back at his men, meeting their eyes and nodding slowly. As one, the squad readied themselves, falling into position with swords at the ready. Then, after a heartbeat had passed, Sergei stepped forward and slammed his boot into the door.

    BANG!

    The sound of cracking wood echoed deafeningly into the chamber beyond, disturbing the stillborn air. As one, the knights flooded into the room beyond, mouths open in silent yells as they dove heedlessly towards whatever horrors laid beyond.

    They came to a halt. Leo and Sergei exchanged looks, then returned their gaze to the scene before them as a grim realization began to take hold.

    The capital was empty.

    Outside the enormous stained-glass windows of the throne room of Rolance, the rumbling of thunder thrummed at a quieter volume, the storm moving further and further away from the city.

    ---​

    A single bead of sweat glistened as it rolled down his temple. His breath came out in shaky, rough exhales followed by uncertain, lightheaded inhaling. His arched back was curled forward in a locked position to fight the adrenaline, the proud garb of the Shepherd wreathing him as a reminder of the bravery he must display.

    The spoon in his hand trembled violently.

    Velvet rolled her eyes. "Whatever Heldalf has in store for us, I sure hope it doesn't include serving us soup," she remarked dryly. "If it does, we might as well give up now."

    Sorey continued to keep his full attention on his dreadful adversary – a spoon filled with a small sample of soup. He glanced up, an incredibly nervous expression on his face. "Lailah," he asked tentatively, his spoon still trembling in fear, "a-are you sure that this soup... I mean," he chuckled nervously, "is it...?"

    Sitting across from him on the other side of the wooden dining table, the fire seraph tilted her head to the side. "'Is it...' what?" Lailah parroted curiously, glancing at the pot of soup she'd brought with her, sitting docilly atop a coaster placed on the table in front of her. There didn't seem to be anything especially wrong with it.

    Standing beside the Shepherd seated at the table, Velvet gestured simply with her bandaged hand. "He's asking if it's going to leave him whimpering on the ground like the last one," she said.

    "Velvet!" Sorey glanced reproachfully at her before turning back to Lailah with a placating expression. "T-that's not it, Lailah," he promised her with an unconvincing smile, still carefully keeping the spoon of soup in the corner of his eyes as if it were a wild animal that could pounce at any moment. "I was just... wondering if maybe you had changed up the recipe this time or something! It smells really good!"

    The therion just shook her head.

    At his words, Lailah's eyes brightened innocently. "I'm glad!" she chirped with a smile. "They say that being aromatic is the first most important obstacle to clear for truly gourmet dishes."

    She leant slightly to the side, playing with her long hair as she admitted, "And well, it has been such a long time since I last made soup for everyone." There were twinkles her eyes as she smiled warmly at him. "So, I decided to go out of my way and experiment with an entirely brand-new recipe. They say that being creative is the second most important obstacle for truly gourmet dishes, after all."

    A second bead of sweat fell swiftly down Sorey's temple, trailing the first. "A-a brand-new recipe, huh? W-wow, that's real exciting, Lailah!" He glanced over desperately at Velvet, sheer panic showing on his face.

    She looked on impassively. "Can't taste anything, remember?" she pointed out tonelessly.

    "Right..." Trapped like a cornered rat, Sorey returned his gaze to Lailah's hopeful and anticipatory expression, then finally to the trembling spoon in his hand. Left with no other options, he let out a breath, resigning himself to his fate.

    The spoon shook with increasing intensity all the way up until it met his lips. He tossed his head back, swallowed as if it were hard liquor, and cringed, frozen with a spoon in his mouth and his head angled upwards waiting for the inevitable as the taste became known to his senses.

    He made a face.

    By his side, Velvet crossed her arms. "...No puking," she observed absently. "That's a dramatic improvement over the last time, Lailah." She turned to the fire seraph whose eyes were growing wider and wider. "You've gotten better."

    Lailah clapped her hands together and let out a happy cheer. "I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. "To hear that coming from you Velvet – that means a very great deal to me." She put a finger to her chin, turning to eye Sorey thoughtfully. "It seems fitting – as Shepherd, Sorey has improved immensely throughout his journeys. It should only be right that I too, have undergone my own journey of gourmet greatness."

    Across from her, Sorey managed to extract the spoon from his mouth without gagging. "Should I ask her what number 'no puking' is as an obstacle is for truly gourmet dishes?" he mumbled to himself.

    Velvet, with her acute hearing, gave him a discreet boot to the shin.

    Oblivious to the Shepherd's wordless yelp of agony, Lailah suddenly stood from the table with a brilliant look on her face. "I know!" she declared. "I should volunteer to aid the refugee chefs – then all those weary souls will be capable of enjoying the fruits of our labor!"

    Both Velvet and Sorey looked at her in alarm.

    "O-oh! B-but Lailah," Sorey reasoned quickly, exchanging a borderline panicked look with Velvet, "you're a seraph! Wouldn't that be a little strange? Plus, shouldn't the human chefs have things under control already?"

    "I am certain the chefs would not dissent if a seraph of the Shepherd's had chosen do their jobs for them for a change," Lailah dismissed with a dainty wave, stars still in her eyes as she imagined the scene in her head. "Truly, this event could be just what the people need to lift their spirits in these uncertain times!" She nodded deeply to herself, becoming more and more convinced with each word.

    Velvet stepped forward. "Not happening," she said, shaking her head firmly.

    Lailah's expression turned petulant in an eyeblink. "Huh...? But why not?" she implored.

    A single index finger pointed into the air. "Because cooking is about love and care." Velvet's voice had taken on a gentle but firm lecturing tone. "If you cook for hundreds of people at once – people you don't know at all – then you're losing out on one of the most valuable aspects of preparing a meal for people." She shrugged, stepping back. "I don't think you're there yet, Lailah. Not yet."

    The fire seraph looked disappointed but nodded slowly in understanding. "I see. You truly are a wise cook, Velvet," she said soberly. Determination began fostering in her eyes once more. "Then I suppose I shall just have to keep on practicing, and one day be able to provide such loving cuisine to so many people at once!"

    Both Velvet and Sorey let out a breath of relief.

    The fire that Lailah had set alight to use for cooking simmered gently in the hearth. The muffled sound of motion and activity filtered through the small, yet cozy diamond paned windows set into the walls of the wooden house. The daylight calmly streaming through the windows joined with the light of the fire to create a mosaic of soft shadows and patches of light illuminating the quiet home.

    "...It truly has been quite some time since this all began, hasn't it?" Lailah's expression had gone contemplative as she sat back in her chair, sweeping her gaze across the interior of the quiet home. She glanced at the two of them with a soft smile. "Much time has passed since I last prepared soup for everyone. We've partaken in many a meal together in the months since."

    Sorey chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. It's kinda hard for me to believe how much has happened," he admitted. "A lot's changed since the day I stepped out of Elysia with Mikleo, off to explore a new world."

    Standing at the Shepherd's side, Velvet laid a hand on her hip. "I bet you got a little more than you bargained for," she guessed dryly.

    "Definitely," Sorey nodded sagely. "There was no way I could've anticipated the challenges I would face as Shepherd, or that I'd be a Shepherd at all. And who would've known that I'd end up meeting so many colorful people along the way?"

    Velvet shrugged. "Idiots are drawn to one another, I suppose."

    "Oh my." Lailah glanced at the hellion, tilting her head contemplatively. "Could this be what humans mean when they refer to 'pots and kettles?'" she asked, a somewhat coy smile on her lips.

    The therion gave her a flat look in return. "I can still devour your precious Shepherd, you know."

    "I am well aware," Lailah promised, her smile unchanging.

    "Still, I'm really glad," Sorey continued, a bright expression on his face as he glanced over his shoulder at Velvet. "There's no way I could've made it through all those trials if I hadn't had everyone with me. Including you guys – thanks."

    Velvet shook her head in amusement. "Only you would thank someone for trying to kill you," she retorted.

    The Shepherd chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Guess so." He shook his head gently but firmly. "But without you, I'm sure I wouldn't have had the strength to overcome some of the challenges we faced," he reaffirmed, meeting her eyes. "I'm truly grateful that you're here with us, Velvet."

    She stared at him for a moment before glancing at Lailah in exasperation. "See? Don't lump me in with the likes of him," she muttered.

    Lailah gently covered her smile with a handful of casting cards. "As you say."

    After a moment, she let the cards fall from her face as she stood from her dining chair. Her long hair fell behind her as she straightened primly, considering the two of them gently. "...From what it seems, the future may yet hold more challenges for us in the coming days," she said, twining her fingers before her dress.

    "Yet whatever is to come, I am grateful for the events that led us to now." She gave a quiet, humble bow to the two of them. "I am proud to have been your Prime Lord, Sorey."

    Sorey smiled in return, likewise sliding to his feet while adjusting the scabbard of his sword on his belt. "I'm glad, Lailah." He nodded, solemnly holding his gloved fist to his chest. "With his drastic moves of late, I get the feeling that there are some big challenges ahead of us." He let his fist fall. "But whatever plans Heldalf has in store for us, we'll be able to take him on. I know it," he said firmly. "I'm glad you and everyone are still here with me, even after all that has happened."

    He glanced at both Lailah and Velvet, gentle enthusiasm showing on his face. "I'll do my best to make my dream come true, for everyone."

    Velvet shrugged. "So long as Heldalf doesn't have soup in store for us," she added dryly.

    Sorey chuckled. "Well... yeah."

    He shook his head, stepping away from the table. "I think I'm going to head out and check in on the others. Did you guys want to come?" he asked.

    "No, thank you." Lailah shook her head gently. "I believe I shall tend to this home for a while longer."

    Sorey nodded then glanced questioningly at Velvet, who gestured for him to continue. Together, the two of them turned away from the dining table and opened the front door to the home, letting in a great burst of unfiltered sunlight and noise. The hinges squealed slightly as the door swung shut behind the two, once again isolating and restoring the peace of the quiet home.

    Lailah stood there in the middle of the room, glancing softly about her surroundings in the wake of their departure. The fire continued to simmer in the hearth, casting soft orange hues atop the light brown wooden floorboards worn down slightly from years of repetitive use. Nestled amidst the rafters up above stood a small ledge for storage filled with weathered old books. It was a calm, isolated, familial-feeling place.

    She frowned and brought a hand to her chest, silently wondering at the strange sensation of longing that had crept up inside of her.

    ---​

    Upon leaving the house, the two of them were instantly greeted by a bright blue sky – a vibrant backdrop for a world of bustle and energy. Hammers clacked rhythmically and loudly in the air alongside the calls and chatter of workers boarding up smashed windows and broken walls. In major thoroughfares, a curious mixture of people bustled about, some carrying construction equipment, groceries, or even weapons as part of the local volunteer patrol. The Great Belfry of Lastonbell stood vigilant above it all, riddled with a myriad of gaping structural wounds yet still standing firm in the afternoon sun.

    Sorey couldn't help but smile at the sight. The city of Lastonbell, bruised, beaten, and burnt, still retained every single speck of the energy and spirit that it had held when he'd first arrived. A flock of pigeons flew overhead through corridors between multistory buildings as the two made their way through the streets, careful to stay out of the way of people carrying heavy materials.

    "Ho! Sorey, Velvet!"

    The two of them glanced over and found Felice and Ayn Talfryn waving at them over the heads of the crowd, standing amidst a collection of horse-drawn carriages and crates. Sorey grinned and waved back as they made their way through the street over to the twin Sparrowfeather merchants.

    "Heard from the boss that you guys got back last night. Welcome back." Talfryn greeted as they arrived, tossing a wrapped bundle to Felice who caught it deftly. "As you can see," Talfryn grinned, jerking a cheery thumb towards his surroundings, "we Sparrowfeathers have been holding down the fort pretty well, don't you think?"

    "We can't take all the credit, though," Felice added, passing the bundle to a worn-down looking man waiting at a table temporarily propped up in front of the carriages. "You can't bring an entire city back on its feet without a little healthy cooperation from its residents. Not to mention the help of the Platinum Knights and all."

    "It really is impressive to see it now," Sorey agreed, crossing his arms and nodding. "When we left, Lastonbell looked pretty bad."

    "I'd say 'pretty bad' is putting it lightly," Talfryn chuckled, briefly scribbling something down in a ledger. "The town was a complete wreck after those storms, not to mention all the straggling bandits."

    "Then I take it you were able to secure the town?" Velvet guessed, laying a hand on her hip.

    "Well, we Sparrowfeathers didn't lift a finger of course," Felice replied naturally, waving a hand in the air. "But yeah, everyone cleaned up shop just fine, even without the almighty Shepherd around."

    "That's great to hear," Sorey said with a smile.

    "Still," Felice continued with a sigh, briefly lifting her cap and wiping her brow, "things are pretty hectic. Now word that the city has been retaken has gotten out, it seems like everyone from all of Rolance is coming to this town for refuge. More folks show up every day – we can barely keep up with housing and foodstuffs."

    "That said, we'll be alright though," Talfryn added, strolling over to the rest of them having tucked the ledger away. "We've got plenty of good contacts in Hyland. You can trust on us Sparrowfeathers to get the job done, no matter what," he promised.

    "What about you guys?" Felice asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head. "From the sound of things, you all found what you were looking for at Meliodas?"

    "We found it," Sorey confirmed, letting his arms fall. He frowned. "Though I'm afraid we're at a bit of a loss as to where to look next," he added. "That last tampered iris gem didn't really give us too much in the way of clues."

    Velvet laid a hand on her hip. "We were thinking the scouts might have information we could use," she said. "Shouldn't they be back soon?"

    "Yeah." Talfryn nodded. "That was the plan, anyway." He briefly paused to turn around and hand another bundle to a new refugee at the table before turning back. "For now, you all are better off taking a moment to rest." He shook his head. "I think you've been through enough recently. It wouldn't do anyone any good if the great Shepherd were to collapse on the streets out of exhaustion, would it?"

    Felice took a moment to lean her body against a double stack of large crates and shake her head. "If anything," she sighed, "I think we're the ones who've been through a lot recently."

    She jabbed an irritable finger at Velvet. "I had to babysit that one for weeks not too long ago, you know," she groused, wriggling her finger at the therion who raised a dry eyebrow in response. "Honestly, thinking back to it, of all the people that the boss could've assigned me to surveil, she just had to choose the most irritating one possible."

    Velvet waved a hand in the air. "Nobody asked you to get as involved with me as you did," she said carelessly. "If you have anybody to blame for that, it's yourself."

    "See?!" Felice exclaimed at her brother, gesturing urgently at the therion. "Irritating!"

    Talfryn gave his sister a wide grin. "Since you mentioned in, I guess I did have to babysit Sorey for a while there, too," he said wryly. "Though I suppose he was a little bit less of a handful."

    She shot her brother a dangerous glare. "Wish I could say the same for you," she muttered sourly. "Almost getting yourself killed... honestly." Shaking her head, she glanced at the Shepherd and the hellion standing side-by-side before them. "But given the facts, it looks like I definitely had more of a handful to deal with than you did."

    "Ah, I don't know," her brother replied easily, casually supporting the back of his neck with his hands. "Honestly it sounds like she was pretty well-behaved, all things considered," he grinned. "Now, trying to teach a bumbling Shepherd to handle an operation like that? Well, that was quite the experience."

    Felice's eye twitched. "You didn't have to worry about him going off and trying to get himself killed with some sort of self-sacrificial hate complex!" she heatedly shot back. "I swear, I lost years of my life wondering if I had made a mistake telling her where the Shepherd was!"

    "All you did was give directions," Talfryn grinned easily. "That's what a map does, and you don't see maps complaining about emotional stress, do you?"

    "I'll show you emotional stress when I make you do all the paperwork I missed," Felice growled.

    Velvet and Sorey exchanged wry glances at the back-and-forth of the twins. "Guess things did turn out alright in the end, huh?" Sorey supposed. She shrugged in response.

    The four of them then halted their conversations as they noticed a large group of weary travelers traveling down the thoroughfare towards them, a familiar figure leading the way alongside a group of Platinum Knights.

    Princess Alisha, guiding the refugees towards them, raised a hand in greeting. "It would seem this group is from a village in the Pearloats Pasture," she said to the twins, gesturing towards the refugees. "They're all very, very tired. I believe they would prefer to reside in lodgings near to each other, if possible." The Talfryns nodded and sprang into motion preparing to divvy up supplies to the dozens of people there.

    While they worked, Alisha took the time to walk up to Sorey and Velvet, out of the way of the proceedings. "I am glad things have been working out so well here in the city," she said, brushing a few errant strands of hair out of her face while glancing over her shoulder at the refugees lining up for aid behind her. "Ever since the decision of the Hyland chancellors to abandon Rolance to the whims of Heldalf, I have worried over what will become of the people of the country."

    "Seems to me like they'll be okay," Sorey remarked, resting a hand on the pommel of his sword. "They've been through a lot, but everyone's so determined to build everything back up despite all of it."

    The princess returned his smile with a soft and hopeful one. "The deeds of corrupt men such as the chancellors aside, the spirit of people such as that of this city bring me much hope." She clenched a gauntleted fist to her chest, shaking her head resolutely. "Truly, I must not lose sight of such hope. I would be a poor excuse of a knight should I allow myself to lose that trust in humanity's potential."

    Sorey shifted on his feet, a hint of worry showing in his expression. "Alisha... Are you still be thinking of Maltran's words from back then?" he asked.

    She gave him a gentle smile in return. "Thank you for your concern, but you need not worry for my sake." The princess shook her head resolutely, letting her clenched fist fall to her side. "The strength of the knight is one only the knight themselves must forge. Besides, one person cannot fix all the world's problems, Shepherd Sorey," she smiled. "I would advise against trying."

    Sorey chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, alright."

    "Is that... the Shepherd?!"

    Sorey blinked, noticing the eyes of some of the members the new group of refugees focused directly upon him. At those words, surprise and astonishment rippled through the rest of the tired and weary travelers, all of whom turned as well to gaze wide-eyed at the man in a ceremonial white cloak standing mere paces away from them. More comments quickly followed suit, increasing in volume and frequency.

    "...It's really him! Shepherd Sorey!"

    "S-Savior! The Savior of Rolance!"

    "Wielder of the power of lore..."

    The group, almost as one, fell to their knees atop the cobblestones, their voices reaching an almost fevered pitch. Even those moments away from receiving food and water ignored that which was proffered and prostrated themselves before the Shepherd himself. Her arms crossed, Velvet narrowed her eyes and glanced at the subject of their devotion standing next to her.

    Shepherd Sorey had taken a step back at the display, his eyes wide in surprise. Calls of worship only increased with every passing moment, each cry ringing in his ears. He swallowed dryly and made to make some sort of reply but found himself speechless.

    Talfryn, Felice, and Alisha exchanged looks.

    "Alright folks!" Felice suddenly yelled over the clamoring people; hands cupped around her mouth to increase the strength of her call. "This station is moving to the north side of town! I'm afraid you'll need to head over there to get your supplies and housing assignments!"

    Even despite the fervor, this drew attention.

    "Wh-what?! We just came from the north side of town!"

    "We've traveled so much already – what gives?!"

    "Now just hold on a second-!"

    An uproar followed as certain members of the group stumbled to their feet, rushing forward as Felice and Talfryn visually began disassembling pieces of their stall.

    As her brother began speaking with the angry masses, Felice stepped to the side and gave Sorey and Velvet a wink before gesturing with her hand. "Go on, get outta here!" she urged.

    Alisha had a smile on her face as she latched onto Sorey's arm, who still seemed somewhat distraught at the turn of events, and tugged him away. Velvet followed at a distance, keeping a careful eye on the others in the group of refugees seemingly torn between their personal wellbeing and the sight of the Shepherd before them.

    "If there's one thing that can be said about you Sorey," Alisha remarked as she tugged him away from the spectacle, "It's that power does not suit you. Truly."

    Sorey smiled in response, but the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "That... was really weird," he said, shaking his head slowly as Alisha released his arm. "Why in the world would all of those people to do such a thing?"

    Steel boots clinked on cobblestones underfoot as Velvet caught up with the two of them. "Isn't it obvious?" she replied, turning away from the refugees as she walked. "Heldalf killed their king and took over the entire country at a time when nobody believed in hellions. You came and gave them a glimmer of hope." She shrugged. "Seems natural they'd fall head over heels for anyone who did that."

    "I see..." Sorey only looked more troubled at her words.

    Velvet watched as the Shepherd furrowed his brow, evidently perturbed by what the people had done. She said nothing more.

    ---​

    A plaza stood amidst the brilliant blue afternoon, riddled with holes and craters noticeably older than damages caused by recent storms. A bone-dry fountain stood vacantly in the middle of it all, large, ragged chunks gouged out from various sections of the once-pristine stone. In the vicinity, small teams of people carefully labored to fill the largest of the gouges, seeking mend the worst of the wounds.

    The sound of two hands slapping together briefly rang out above the light chattering of the workers tending to the ruined square. As they arrived, Sorey, Velvet, and Alisha were greeted with the sight of Rose and a red-haired saleswoman standing in front of another temporary Sparrowfeather stall, eagerly shaking the other's hand with impish looking grins.

    The three of them exchanged amused looks as the two merchants caught sight of them and proceeded to wave them over with matching white smiles.

    "Hey there! You folks are just in time to celebrate a grand moment in the entire history of Lastonbell commerce." the saleswoman crowed as she and Rose released their handshake. With both her hands free, she rested both on her hips and declared, "Rather than being just any 'ol third party seller, from this day forth, me and my ma's sales company has become an official partner of the Sparrowfeather Merchants!"

    Rose was wearing a matching grin on her face. "With the sales that you've been bringing in, both before Lastonbell went under and after, I think it's only fair that you get to take a greater share of the profits," she remarked, briefly stepping away to tuck away some papers. "And with more funding and official support, I expect great things from our partnership!" she called.

    "You better expect them!" the saleswoman called back, puffing her chest out just a little bit more. "Imagine, us selling the famed Sparrowfeather Mabo Curry Buns as a seller now officially sponsored by the Holy Shepherd and his followers – the Saviors of Rolance...?!" She giggled almost manically. "Sales will be through the roof! Just you wait!"

    "...She's lost it," Velvet muttered with an exasperation shake of her head. "That head injury must've been more damaging than the doctor thought."

    Alisha chuckled nervously, her glance jumping between the cackling saleswoman and Sorey. "Pardon Sorey," she asked with trepidation, "but might we be at risk of her transforming into some kind of gald hellion?"

    Sorey let out a strangled noise in response, clearly not certain what to feel about being the "official sponsor" of a commercial food product.

    At their reactions, the saleswoman shook her head with a sigh. "Ah, you folks don't get it." She waved her hand dismissively. "You might be supernatural people looking to save the world, but it looks like you've got a long ways to go in terms of business sense."

    Velvet waved her bandaged hand sardonically. "You're just taking advantage of the situation and exploiting people. Doesn't take much 'business sense' to see that."

    "C'mon, take a look around," the saleswoman replied adamantly, gesturing to the surrounding square riddled with marks of destruction. "I get it might be different for you, but to folks here, these past few weeks have been absolutely terrifying." She started counting with her fingers, "Revived war with Hyland, a coup in the capital, freak storms, anarchy."

    She gestured at the folks working away to rebuild the buildings around them. "Hearing me hawk goods on the street corners at times like these? Shopping for food products? Well, things might feel just a bit better because of stuff like that." She made a reasonable gesture to herself, enthusiasm showing in her posture. "That's all ordinary people like me can do right now – help bring some normalcy back, bit by bit."

    "That's the idea," Rose agreed, returning from the caravan behind them to stand beside the saleswoman. "Sometimes, it's not the big 'ol flashy changes that help people out, but the smaller, more mundane things that help convince them things are alright," she reasoned with a genuine gesture. "Business isn't all about profits, ya know."

    Sorey had a small, warm smile on his face. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "In that case, I'm glad that you two are doing so much in that respect."

    He shook his head, frowning, his thoughts flashing back to the near reverence of the people earlier. "...For me, all it feels like I'm able to do is to try and live up to everyone's expectations right now," he said rather quietly. "I sure hope I can."

    "Don't sweat it!" Rose replied, waving a dismissive hand. "You're doing just fine."

    Her impish grin returned briefly. "Though... I sure wouldn't be complaining if, say once in a while, you dropped a mention about the fine, tasty texture of the Mabo Curry Buns, the specialty product of the Sparrowfeathers, while other folks are listening," she added with a wink.

    Heedless of Sorey's uncertain chuckle, she gestured over her shoulder at the saleswoman at the carriage of foodstuffs behind them. She also glanced questioningly at Alisha, who cocked her head curiously and followed.

    As the other two women left, the saleswoman hesitated, glanced at the remaining two, and then bowed, deeply. "...Thank you, Velvet, really," she said as she straightened from her bow, specifically to Velvet.

    She met the hardened woman's eyes genuinely. "I don't really get all this stuff about Seraphim, Hellions, and Malevolence and all that," she admitted softly, "and I'm still not really certain about what I saw that day during the storms. I know there's some confusing rumors out there about what a 'Hellion' is, but..."

    She shook her head dismissively. "All I know is that you saved my life, not once, but twice. Because of that, my mother and I have been able to survive, and live on." She bowed again, in parting. "So, thank you. Really. And take care, knowing that there are folks out there rooting for you." With that, she turned and headed off, meeting with Rose and Alisha and resuming an earlier conversation filled with economic and business terms.

    Velvet watched the woman leave, a strangely soft expression on her face.

    Sorey smiled, then blinked as he noticed another figure approaching the two of them – one seemingly ignored by the humans working in the vicinity. The Lord of the Land, Sindra, came to a halt before the Shepherd and the Lord of Calamity, interlacing her fingers together and falling into a deep bow towards Sorey.

    "Shepherd," Sindra greeted sadly, keeping her eyes downturned, "I am afraid I have failed in my duty as Lord of the Land."

    "Sindra?" Sorey blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

    She held her bow stiffly. "As I mentioned during the previous battle, that woman over there..." she said, gesturing towards the saleswoman, "was one of the many subjects you charged me to protect. I was responsible for hurting her," she admitted, slowly straightening her back before gesturing at Velvet, "in my attempts to attack your... companion. I was foolish and sinful."

    Velvet shrugged callously in response. "You did what you thought needed to be done," she pointed out. "Nobody can fault you for that."

    "My apologies, hellion," Sindra muttered tersely, "I'm afraid you must forgive me for holding myself up to a higher standard than that of a repulsive being such as yourself."

    The therion's eyes narrowed dangerously at the impudent seraph's words.

    Suddenly, Sorey let out a mild chuckle, drawing the attention of both of them. He put a hand on his hip. "It's alright Sindra, no harm no foul, right?" He gestured to Velvet with a thumb. "And I don't think I can really blame you – Velvet does tend to give off the wrong first impression."

    In response to Velvet's dark glare being turned upon him, he jolted and sheepishly raised an index finger to his cheek. "W-well, I guess maybe those impressions aren't entirely wrong," he allowed.

    He shook his head, straightening and giving Sindra an honest nod. "Still, in any case, I would think that if there's one thing I learned during my journey, it would be the truth in something that my Gramps once said." He glanced at the therion standing beside him with a soft smile. "'The world is a vast and complex place,'" he quoted, "'full of places and beings just as varied in traits and behavior. Be guarded, and carry yourself through its hallowed lands with strength, determination, and an open mind.'"

    He returned his gaze to Sindra. "...It sounds like you did just that, Sindra," he remarked, gesturing to where she was now. "If that's the case, then I think there's no need for you to be apologize," he finished simply.

    Standing next to him, Velvet quietly glanced off to the side.

    Studying the two of them carefully in the wake of his words, Sindra considered this a moment before nodding deeply. "...As you say, Shepherd Sorey," she replied reverently. "Truly, you have grown wise through your journey – far wiser than long-lived yet narrow-minded seraphim such as I. I am honored to have been tasked as Lord of the Land in your name."

    She tilted her head at him. "May I request that you accompany me to the sanctuary? There is a matter regarding the vessel that I'd like to discuss."

    "Sure." Sorey glanced at Velvet, who shook her head.

    With a parting nod, the Shepherd joined the Lord of the Land and headed out of the ruined plaza towards the center of the city. Now standing alone amidst the partially marred stones, Velvet took a moment to ponder the words that had been said.

    "An open mind, huh...?"

    The rapping of tools on wood filled the silence as the surrounding laborers worked. Off to the side, Rose, the saleswoman, and Alisha chattered in a rather heated conversation relating to some financial and legal matters. The sun shone high above, passing behind an errant cloud amidst the brilliant blue sky briefly blanketing the world with a soft passing shadow before returning. She glanced to the side and found the seraph who had been listening silently to the conversations taking place from where he leaned against the dried-up fountain.

    Dezel was characteristically silent as always, never too far away from wherever Rose went. She paused for a moment, before choosing to step over towards him. She stopped in front of the dried-up fountain near him, glancing over at where Rose was wildly gesturing in the air to punctuate some point of hers.

    She drew her lips into a line. "...In the end," she said without preamble, her words barely audible over the sound of civilization surrounding them, "I did what I set out to do."

    The wind seraph had stilled, his face angled towards Rose and the others, his jaw setting firmly at her words. She laid a hand on her hip, glancing off to the side with a distant look. "I sacrificed so much – including many things that weren't mine to sacrifice. I killed the one that had destroyed my life, my family, and myself," she murmured.

    "And once it was done..." Her bandaged fist clenched firmly. "I had nothing left."

    Dezel's jagged teeth bared in the sunlight. "...You think you can stop me from seeking revenge saying stuff like that?" he growled back with a low voice. "What makes you think I give a damn about what happens to me?"

    She shrugged. "You should know what you're setting yourself up for." Her eyes went to Rose, and she could tell Dezel's attention shifting to the merchant as well.

    Her expression was pensive. "...In the end," she repeated slowly, "It wasn't my strength of will that saved me. She glanced at Dezel, a disquiet expression on her face. "I had someone there to bring me back."

    The banging of tools on wood filled the silence that followed her words. She then gestured over her shoulder at where Sorey had left. "I don't know how all of this will end. Unlike before, I don't have much of a plan at all," she admitted openly.

    Steel grinded on cobblestones as she turned on her feet, striding away from the wind seraph with a sweep of raven hair. "But I have learned at thing or two about living without regrets," she said. "That's all."

    Dezel watched mutely in the wake of her words as she departed, leaving him standing alone amidst the ruined plaza. A brilliantly sculpted marketplace, horribly marred by the scars of those determined to do what needed to be done.

    High up above, the sun disappeared into a patch of clouds, temporarily plunging the world into a soft blanket of shadowed light once more.

    ---​

    Fields of gold crop blanketed patches of earth neatly arranged near the walls of the city, colorfully disrupting the varied wood and stone accents of the city buildings. In the distance, the belfry could be seen towering over the varied multistory structures packed inside the perimeter of the defensive city walls. Even from afar, the damage of the recent storms and conflict could be seen clearly, scars riddling structures in every conceivable variety.

    Velvet considered it all from her lone vantage point atop the raised stone park hugging the exterior city wall. High up above, the sun hovered closely near the horizon, slowly transforming the clear blue skies with brilliant paint strokes of orange and gold. Birds and insects rustled about in the park and surrounding crop fields, punctuating a partial silence underlaid with the distant activity of the city.

    The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention.

    Mikleo came to a halt behind her in the middle of the empty raised park, the strips of azure cloth on his seraphic clothing trailing his movements. He met her eyes, his fists curled at his sides. An idle breeze drifted by, managing to navigate the network of buildings and structures of Lastonbell to rustle the trees of the park and the patches of crop nearby.

    She held his gaze for a moment before turning away, looking forward towards the sight of the city beyond the confines of the park.

    "Still hate me for corrupting Sorey, huh?" she supposed aloud, leaning forward while resting her forearms on the rails of the park railing. "Can't blame you. But, I think I've made my intentions clear enough." She shook her head and glanced down at her bandaged hand in front of her, a thoughtful expression showing on her face.

    "My dream is to bring about a world in which all beings willing to coexist can thrive... I'm not backing down from that – not for a moment."

    She let out a breath, a hint of a wry smile flashing on her expression as she returned her gaze towards the city beyond. "...Maybe you should bring it up with the idiot in question, who finds it in himself to welcome a hellion in his ranks," she shrugged.

    Another gust of wind slid through the air above the stone park, causing the dangling bandages on her left arm to sway gently from side to side. As the wind died down and the partial silence of the nearby city bustle resumed, she heard Mikleo step towards her, hesitantly at first. She waited motionlessly as he approached.

    Then, she blinked when he walked right up and leaned his back against the railing right beside her, crossing his arms while staring resolutely towards the opposite end of the park.

    "I never liked hellions," he said without glancing at her, the rustling of trees and crops accompanying his soft words. "Ever since I was a kid, I heard terrible things about hellions – monsters of malevolence – from the others in Elysia."

    He shook his head. "Then, one day, a hellion nearly killed Sorey while we were in the ruins together. It was only because Gramps showed up that he ended up okay." He shifted in his stance, absently adjusting his crossed arms as he glanced up, staring at the brilliant gold and orange sky above.

    "...Ever since that day, I think I hated hellions," he admitted. "Loathed them, even. I think I hated anything that might've possibly threatened Sorey – that's probably why he always says I'm 'overcautious.'"

    Velvet tilted her head to the side. "...You really care for him."

    He gave her a look. "He's the closest thing I've had to family next to Gramps. Of course I care for him," he muttered. He returned his gaze forward, nostalgia coloring his expression. "Growing up with someone like that is... well, something special. I've always wanted to keep things the way that they were back then – the two of us, going through the world together, exploring ruins and embarking on wild adventures."

    He let out a breath, shaking his head. "That first dream of his – the one he held when he first set out? Well that was, in part, our dream," he said softly. "And I don't think I liked it when he changed it because of you."

    Velvet's lips had drawn into a thin line.

    "I took him away from you," she summarized simply, straightening and laying a hand on her hip. "A friend you treasured, twisted by a monster," she said emotionlessly. "You must feel helpless, seeing him fall so willingly right into the palm of my hand. All so that I can use him for my needs - a tool to be disposed of once finished."

    At her thorned words, Mikleo did nothing but close his eyes. "...Assumptions and conjectures are little in the way of cold, hard evidence. When you research the past, you have to gather as much information as you can," he said softly.

    "You don't make things easy. I'm still not entirely certain whether you're truly the type of person Sorey seems to think you are." His boots squeaked slightly on stone as he straightened as well, turning towards her. "...But I don't think I can deny any longer that a big part of why I hated you is because I hated seeing Sorey change from who he had been."

    He shook his head slowly. "Sorey is his own person," he admitted quietly, "and I have no right to try to dictate who he should be. Nor who he chooses to trust."

    She blinked in surprise.

    Mikleo held her eyes firmly, fierce determination in his stance. "I'm still not entirely convinced of your good intentions," he warned. "You manipulated Sorey and sowed utter chaos in your time. You're a hellion, a killer, and a Lord of Calamity to boot. Not to mention your villain act is convincing as hell."

    He shook his head. "...But you were there for Sorey," he sighed in resignation, "especially with this business with the tampered iris gems recently – I don't think there's any harder evidence than that. Plus, with Heldalf's drastic actions, I don't think there's any more room for me to keep hating you on account of my own hangups."

    He stepped forward, putting himself within arm's reach of the hellion, and thrust his hand out haughtily.

    "S-so, I've decided to trust you, for now!" he declared with a wince, every bit of him apparently revolting against the act of stepping so close to a hellion. "But I'll still be watching!" he added sharply, giving her a half-hearted glare. "Don't think you can get away with any twisted plans under my watch, Velvet."

    She stared.

    High up above, a flock of pigeons fluttered through the air above the park, diving towards labyrinth of streets and alleyways of the bustling city amidst the golden light of the setting sun. The distant, quiet giggling of a lone couple, escaping the madness of a crumbling world down by the nearby crop fields, filled the silence that followed.

    Finally, Velvet shook her head in apparent amusement, crossing her arms while shifting her weight to the side. "Well, that was easy," she remarked conversationally. "Who knew that a Lord of Calamity like me could so easily infiltrate the ranks of the Shepherd?" Her smile was fanged as she glanced his way. "I can't wait to tear you all apart from the inside," she drawled.

    Mikleo's eye twitched. "Don't make me regret my decision!" he huffed indignantly.

    Finding herself letting out a remarkably genuine laugh, Velvet Crowe shook her head again, as if unable to believe what she was hearing. "...Like I said," she sighed softly with a strange degree of fondness in her eyes.

    "You're all idiots."

    Her bandaged hand clasped with the water seraph's under the soft illumination of the setting sun.

    Across the fields of Lastonbell under the same setting sun, a lone figure stood before a great patch of crops, a semi-transparent amber umbrella resting upon her shoulder. Edna stood motionlessly beside the wooden fence, her distant gaze unfocused upon the patches of crops smeared and burnt from recent lightning storms.

    The crackling of dirt and stones announced the presence of a visitor as Sorey stepped up to her, curiosity in his expression as he found the earth seraph standing all by herself in the outskirts of the city.

    After a moment, the Shepherd decided to join her without a word, leaning against the wood fence and gazing out towards the semi-destroyed fields. The hammering of tools against wood echoed from the nearby city proper, fighting the sound of the natural breeze idly sifting through the stalks of partially burnt crop all while the two stood there companionably beside each other.

    "...Just so you know," he said after a while, bringing his hands together atop the wooden fence, "I haven't forgotten my promise to you, Edna. I will find a way to save Eizen," he said solemnly, turning towards her. "That hasn't, and won't, change."

    Edna didn't react immediately to his words, idly spinning the umbrella on her shoulder a quarter rotation before halting it. The light breeze played with her hair and clothing amidst the golden lighting as she stood there, staring out into the distance.

    "She's rubbing off on you too much."

    Sorey blinked in surprise at her sudden words. "Huh?" He said, having turned back to the crops given her initial silence. "Who, Velvet?"

    She turned to the side and faced him with a dry expression. "Don't think we haven't all seen how sad and lost you look when the humans treat you like some sort of a god," she said, rolling the umbrella on her shoulder. "Like some puppy whose tail you'd stepped on."

    "Um," Sorey said with a wry chuckle, raising an index finger to his cheek. "I feel like I should be defending myself here."

    Edna's umbrella closed with a snap as she brought it around, pointing it directly at him. Her expression was final. "You have enough on your plate as is, Shepherd," she said, using his moniker rather dully. "Kittybeard. Freak storms. Countries collapsing. With all that, why don't you worry about solving the impossible afterwards?"

    Sorey laughed in response, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. "I guess you do make a point," he conceded with a smile. "But still," he said seriously, composing himself. "I want to make sure you know. I will save Eizen. I promise." He emphasized his statement by clenching his gloved fist in front of him.

    Edna let out a breath in response.

    "...Sometimes," she said softly after a pause, "even if the world feels like it's crashing down, you need to know your limits." She turned back towards the fields before them, marred by ugly crisscrossing burn marks all throughout. "Sometimes, you need to accept what is possible... and what isn't."

    Sorey's expression had softened. He rested his hands gently on the fence in front of him as he too stared out into the fields alongside her. "I take it... that's how you deal with missing your brother?" he asked gently.

    She nodded wordlessly in response.

    High up above, beyond the forests and hills surrounding the city of Lastonbell, the setting sun began to slowly dip under the horizon, casting a mosaic of longer and longer shadows all around them. Twilight fell in a subtle transition – orange shifting slowly to purple, then ultimately to black.

    In the cold air of the departing sun, Sorey nodded gently. "...Okay," he said quietly. "Thanks, Edna. I'll keep that in mind."

    The two of them continued to stand there together, savoring the last vestiges of the fleeting day.

    ---​

    The chirping of crickets sounded from outside, seeping into the interior of the house through the wooden walls. The repetitive, melancholic songs of the insects accompanied Sorey as he stepped through the darkened home, passing the dining area with its counters and tables free of the dishes that the group had used for supper. No moonlight from the cloudy sky outside filtered through the dark diamond paned windows of the hallway as his feet padded on polished wooden boards.

    From the doors he passed, he could hear the chatter of the humans and seraphim who had chosen to follow him as they prepared to sleep for the night. He thought he heard Rose and Alisha discussing something in soft tones, as well as Mikleo and Dezel exchanging brief words. He kept walking until he rounded the corner, finding the last room with its door open, letting the soft golden light of multiple candles seep out into the dark hallway beyond.

    He found none other than Velvet methodically sliding a damp mop across the floor of her room; a white apron wrapped around her dark clothing. He blinked in surprise.

    She noticed and glanced over at him while pushing the head of the mop into a bucket of soiled water. "Sorey. What are you still doing up?" she asked, absently lifting the mop above the water to drain. "You were running all about today – didn't Talfryn say that it would do no one any good if the Shepherd collapsed out of exhaustion?"

    "I guess he did, huh?" Sorey rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, stepping out of the shadowed hallway and into the warm candlelight of the partially cleaned room. "But for some reason or another, I just couldn't sleep."

    The therion resumed running the mop up and down the uncleaned floorboards as Sorey settled down leaning against a table across the room from her. "Wouldn't be the first time," she remarked dryly as she returned her full attention to her work. "Just don't get in my way. I won't give any guarantees for what'll happen if you do." Her words were tinged with just a hint of amusement.

    "Sure." Sorey cocked his head curiously, watching Velvet work in the tranquil candlelight. "But... shouldn't you be resting, too, Velvet?" he asked. "Both of us did a lot today – can't the cleaning wait for tomorrow?"

    To his surprise, Velvet let out a rather irritated moan, pausing in her mopping to shake her head. "This house was mostly unscathed during the recent storms, but from the look of things, it hasn't been lived in for some time." She glanced around at the bookshelves and cabinets populating the room with a critical eye. "There're all sorts of things out of place. It's annoying. I'd prefer to get it done now, since we have no idea how long it'll take for the scouts to get back."

    Sorey tilted his head just a little bit more to the side, uncertain. "I... see." He shook his head. "Actually, I don't really get it," he admitted. "But I do have to say, it's kinda weird seeing a hellion doing housework," he remarked, gesturing at said hellion presently pushing the mop over a particularly stubborn stain on the floor.

    He blinked and jerked his arm up just in time to catch a white blur tossed at his face. Eyes wide in surprise, he lowered his hand and found a bundled-up apron in his hands.

    Velvet had a wry smile on her face as she lowered her hand. "You're here," she remarked dryly, "so give me a hand. You're of no use to me just standing around." She punctuated her words by pushing her mop back into the bucket, rinsing the head once more.

    Sorey smiled, then slipped the apron on over his blue clothes.

    The two worked in companionable silence to the calm serenade of the crickets singing outside. A feather duster in hand, Sorey carefully stripped dust from the tops of the assorted books resting on the bookcases. Meanwhile, Velvet methodically removed the clutter from the shelves, stacking them neatly within the closet. The flames of the candles drifted lazily from side to side, keeping the shadows at bay as the room gradually became cleaner and cleaner.

    As the two were putting the finishing touches on the room, Velvet stilled, quietly considering a small, frosted glass vase in her hands. "'Nobody ever stops learning...' huh?" she said softly, examining the vase and her reflection atop its hazy surface.

    Sorey blinked, halting in his dusting and turning towards her. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

    She tilted the vase, watching her reflection from a different angle. "They're words that you said to me, back in Marlind." She turned her head towards him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Back then, I didn't believe you. Then..."

    With careful movements, she rested the decorative piece atop the cabinet in front of her. After a moment of consideration, she shook her head, turning to face him while meeting his gaze. "In any case," she said, resting a hand on her hip, "I suppose I'm grateful that you helped me. That's all."

    Sorey's smile was warm. He set the duster aside and reached behind him, undoing the ties of the apron. "I'm grateful too, Velvet," he agreed, bowing his head to slip the apron off. "Not only did you help me out, but I don't think I'll ever forget the lessons you've given me."

    He pressed a fist to his chest, a calm smile on his face. "I'm alive, right? Not a Shepherd in the end, just another living being, doing what I need to do," he said softly.

    "Right..." At his words, Velvet glanced absently about the room. Amidst the gentle light of the candles, the now cleaned room gave a cozier sensation – one that invited a person to feel safe and at peace. Her eyes were distant. "I wonder," she murmured softly, "could things have gone like this, back then...?"

    Sorey blinked, tilting his head in confusion.

    Somewhere in the distance, bell began to toll.

    The two of them shared an urgent glance. Together, they dashed out of the room, leaving the cleaning implements where they laid. As they ran out into the hallway, the others burst out of their rooms in similar alarm. Together the Shepherd and his followers rushed into the night towards the source of the noise.

    The skies were pitch-black and covered in clouds, hovering ominously overhead as they arrived at the northern gates of Lastonbell. Torches burned brightly from all sides throwing chaotic shadows running alongside knights and volunteers rushing in every which direction carrying supplies and medical equipment. Horses neighed loudly amidst the sea of buzzing activity, the animals sweating heavily from exertion under saddles and riders.

    Guided to the front by Platinum Knights, Sorey, Velvet, Rose, and Alisha, accompanied unseen by the seraphim, came to a halt as the last of the horses tromped up, allowing the men crewing the entry to push the gates shut. Sorey stepped up urgently as he recognized the last riders.

    "Captain Sergei! Leo!" he called, jogging up to the two as they dismounted from their horses. "Are you all okay?"

    The captain of the Platinum Knights glanced sharply at his voice, turning to meet him as he arrived. "Shepherd!" he said urgently, fatigue evident in his voice and stance. After a moment, he collected himself and met Sorey's eyes urgently. "Heldalf has abandoned Rolance."

    Sorey slid to a halt on the cobblestones in surprise. "What?!" he breathed uncomprehendingly. "Then, where...?"

    His eyes widened.

    Velvet exchanged a grim glance with Rose and Alisha. She glanced up at the cloudy skies above, her eyes narrowing. "...Looks like he's making his move," she said darkly.

    High up above, storm clouds let out a terrible boom, rattling the stones of the city below as they rolled steadily through the black. Towards Hyland.
     
  6. CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 28 – Firestorm.

    Amidst a sea of darkness, Marlind burned.

    The bloody red orange glow of the flames consuming the city flared outward into the thunderous night. Embers rained down from the Great Tree upon buildings like tears of flame, black plumes of smoke rising to vanish into the dark void overhead. An all-encompassing vortex of malevolence writhed and flourished amidst desperate screams and clanging of metal.

    The Shepherd took it all in from atop a sharp cliff amidst a deathly still forest to the east of the city. Sorey gripped the pommel of his sword tightly, his eyes hard as he discerned distant patches of royal blue amidst a sea of red and violet.

    The remains of the Hyland forces had been pushed back to the city, putting up nothing more than weak resistance against an ocean of never-ending hellions. Rolance soldiers forcibly converted into monsters by the actions of the Lord of Calamity.

    There were no war cries, no rallying charges, no calls for glory. It was a massacre.

    Eyes grim, he turned to face his followers, putting his back to the city being razed. "Whatever Heldalf intends to do here, I won't allow it," he said, curling his gloved hand into a fist in front of him. "We can't let this happen, guys." The Shepherd's mark on the back of his glove dimly reflected the flare of the burning city behind him.

    Her arms crossed, Rose narrowed her eyes at the barely distinct figures fighting desperately in front of the city, silhouetted by the burning fires. "This is just nuts," she sighed, shaking her head. "Figures that the dumb actions of those chancellors would lead to this happening."

    "Rose," Lailah berated, meaningfully gesturing to the person standing beside her, "recall that these are Alisha's countrymen who are suffering. The chancellors may have made grave errors, but it is innocent people who must suffer for it."

    With damp eyes filled with fury, the princess in question shook her head and took a step forward, glaring at the city of her country set alight. "I admit what Rose says is true." Her fists curled. "Yet still," she growled, her jaw set, "regardless of the resistance, the pain, the odds... I have a duty to uphold."

    She stamped her iron boot on the ground harshly, raising her lance towards the distant invaders of her country. "I will not let things fall any further! As the princess of Hyland, that, I vow!"

    Edna twirled the open umbrella resting on her shoulder in a single revolution. "Determination is great and all, that's an army of hellions," she pointed out. She tilted her head to slightly to the side. "Are you planning to stop them all by yourself?"

    Standing beside her, Velvet turned to face Sorey, her eyes calculating. "Shepherd or not, there's almost no way that you'll be able to last against that many hellions," she said bluntly, resting her bandaged arm on her hip. "Last time you came up against Heldalf on a battlefield, you nearly died. Do you really think you'll do any better this time around?" Her words were deliberately callous.

    Sorey met her gaze, finding the clear test in her expression. Despite himself, a small, determined smile formed on his face. "I can't say whether or not I'll be able to," he said honestly. "...But I have learned at thing or two about doing what needs to be done." He straightened, resting his hand back on the pommel of his sword, standing determinedly before the therion. "I won't just stand back and watch this happen."

    Velvet replied with a simple, wordless nod, evidently satisfied.

    The Shepherd turned towards the people arrayed out before him, his expression grim. "Guys," he said urgently, "this is it. If anybody wants to leave-"

    "Shut it," Dezel muttered, cutting him off. At his surprised expression, the wind seraph adjusted the top hat on his head. "Did you think any of us would be here if we actually had doubts? Get on with it, Shepherd."

    Sorey smiled. "Right," he chuckled.

    With his features hardening, he turned back towards the city of Marlind burning brightly under a blanket of swirling malevolence. "...I have an answer now," he said solemnly into the stillborn night air. "A dream to fight for. And I won't let you burn it down." With that, he gestured to the rest of the group.

    Together, they charged into the fray.

    ---​

    The dark skies were tinted a bloody scarlet from the light of the flames, tinged with embers and filled with the howling and screaming of people. Everywhere, things burned – everywhere, people died.

    It was a nightmare.

    Their breathing came out in short, ragged gasps, their clumsily tied shoes pounding on dirt and burnt grass as they rushed away from everything they had known. The intelligible howl of one of those men in red – those inhuman, hulking men frothing at the mouth – caused the two of them to pump their tired legs even more in desperation.

    Soldiers were everywhere. Unfamiliar men rushing and slamming against other soldiers like crushing waves, leaving nothing intact in in their wake. Flaming arrows smashed into the ground nearby, causing them to scream and pivot away from where the grass began to burn. They ran together, tears in their eyes as they fled blindly into the darkness away from their city.

    Suddenly, one of them let out a yell and tumbled to the ground, scraping his knees and elbows upon rock and dirt.

    Beyond, the young girl stumbled to a halt, glancing around the flaming darkness in terror before rushing back for her younger brother. She came to his side and grasped his smaller arm, hauling him up with shaky hands.

    "S-sis?" her brother mumbled, stumbling to his feet with her help. "Wh... where are we going?" he asked weakly before falling into a hacking coughing fit with lungs full of ash and smoke.

    His sister held onto his arm, gently yet urgently guiding him forward so they were moving again. "I d-don't know," the girl said, tugging him while glancing around in fear, "but we h-have to keep moving!" Together, the two pushed back into a run, fleeing towards the wildlands away from the clashing armies.

    Then, they stumbled to a horrified halt as, from out of the darkness, a hulking shape appeared. A lone, seemingly normal man wearing a suit of armor of bloody red colors trudged towards them. A single line of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth as he raised his sword, glee in his unfocused eyes.

    The children screamed, the sister turning her back to shield her brother.

    CLANG!

    Their screams jerked to a choked halt as they opened the eyes that they had squeezed shut. To their astonishment, they discovered a different man standing in front of them with a longsword held in a horizontal guard against the soldier.

    The man wore armor colored with a brilliant shade of orange muffled by the dim lighting.

    He grunted in exertion, gritting his teeth as his knees buckled under the inhuman strength of his opponent. He raised his head slightly, narrowing his eyes in pure frustration. "Slaughtering kids now, are we?" he growled, his arms shaking horribly as the soldier pushed harder against his sword.

    He glanced briefly down at the two children staring dumbfounded up at him and flashed a wink. "Never fear," he grinned tiredly, returning his gaze to his opponent. "The Woodsmen are here to save the day!"

    With that, he uttered a ferocious bellow and pushed, leveraging his sword to shove the hellion back. Without pause, he spun around and smashed his boot into the chest plate of the Rolance soldier, sending the monster stumbling backwards. At that moment, half a dozen other men dressed in similar orange colors arrived at the scene, charging towards the lone soldier with fierce cries.

    "Look alive, bums!" Lucas of the Woodsmen Mercenaries yelled, sweat dripping down the side of his head. "That's one of those hellion things! Don't try to match it with force – outmaneuver it!"

    As his men met the soldier with matching blows, keeping a careful spread formation to harry the monster from all sides, Lucas caught his breath before kneeling in front of the two wide-eyed children beside him. His tired grin returned as he reached behind him and pulled out a pack of gels and bandages for the kids.

    "Don't worry," he said gently, his body framed by the light of the burning city behind him. "Things look bad now, but the Shepherd is coming to help. I promise."

    The older of the two children looked at him wide-eyed, shakily reaching to accept the gels and bandages. "T-the Shepherd?" the girl mumbled. "H-he's really real?"

    Her brother looked up uncomprehendingly. "H-how is he going to do that, s-sir?" he asked weakly. "He's just o-one person, isn't he?"

    Lucas grinned at the two of them. "Oh he's real, trust me," he reassured them. "And he's not just one person."

    His boots ground on dirt as he stood back up, returning his hands to the grip of his sword as the turned to face the soldier that his men were fighting. His eyes narrowed in determination as he raised his sword. "He's the guy who'll lead us all – so long as we believe in him!" he roared, moving forward.

    A familiar voice rang out into the night.

    "You people really have a death wish, don't you?"

    Lucas blinked in surprise and turned to find a woman clad in black, against all odds, stalking through the battlefield towards the three of them with the quiet repetitive sounds of clinking metal. The light of the scattered flames gave just enough sporadic illumination to reveal the patches of blood coating her figure. The children gasped in horror, stumbling back away from her as she came to a halt before them.

    She glanced briefly at the children before returning her gaze to Lucas. "What in the world makes you think you can stand a chance in situations like this?" she muttered, crossing her arms and repeatedly tapping her left index finger.

    Shock stayed on Lucas's face for a moment before it disappeared, a ferocious grin taking its place. "Well," he drawled in response, "it's 'cuz I know that beings like the Shepherd and yourself won't be abandoning us anytime soon." He raised his sword at her, cocking an eyebrow.

    "Ain't that right, miss?" Lucas asked with a fanged smile. "Or should I say, the infamous 'Demon of the Shepherd?'"

    The flare of the burning city silhouetted the raven-haired woman as shifted on her feet, rolling her eyes. "Always with the melodramatic names," she muttered under her breath.

    She glanced at the hellion that the other Woodsmen were still harrying and keeping at bay, her eyes narrowing. "...I'm going to release my domain," she declared.

    Lucas blinked. "What?"

    She raised her arm – the one completely covered in a mess of bandages – as she began to walk forward. "It means that you'll be able to see which soldiers are hellions, and what kinds they are," she said simply. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "The Shepherd's forces will be here in minutes. Stay alive, and stop being complete idiots."

    With that, she let out a yell, jerking her left arm. A fierce and completely unnatural wave of something washed outwards in an instant, blasting through the air with the strange, hardened woman at the very center. Lucas's eyes bulged as he watched an enormous, monstrous claw appear out of nowhere, growing out of the woman's frame to bulge outward into the emerging violet maelstrom. At this side, the two children let out screams of terror.

    Paying them no heed, the Demon of the Shepherd charged forward into the night, leaping inhumanly high towards her similarly inhuman target.

    Shaking himself, Lucas took a step forward and raised his hands to his mouth to amplify his voice. "Not a chance in hell, lady!" he yelled.

    An exasperated smile flashed on Velvet's lips as she slid through the sky towards the hellion. One thousand years later, she reflected idly, and still. It would seem that that sort of spirit would never die out. With that thought on her mind, she narrowed her eyes and let out a harsh yell as she landed, lashing her claw against the giant werewolf hellion's hide. The impact sent it hurling to the side with a thunderous crash.

    She leaped after it, ignoring the startled cries of the woodsmen, and met its inhumanly powerful strength with her own in a whirlwind of strikes and kicks.

    As the demon lady laid into the monster with seemingly effortless fury, Lucas caught his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced back down at the two children, who were watching the battle with terrified eyes.

    "See? What did I say?" he said wryly, drawing their attention. "That lady there," he said, pointing, "is with the Shepherd. We'll beat the bad guys yet – just you kids watch," he grinned cockily.

    The younger brother's eyes were bulging in shock. "Sh-she's with the Holy Shepherd?!" he gawked. "But she... she's a monster!"

    Lucas turned his gaze back and watched as the woman leapt backwards in a graceful backflip, raven hair slinging behind her as the now-visible werewolf monster slashed its enormous claw at where she'd been. Within a heartbeat, she had followed through with her momentum and slammed her own claw onto the hellion's head, squeezing and crushing it like a melon in an explosion of blood and gore.

    "No," Lucas said thoughtfully as he watched the hellion's body disappear as the woman consumed it through her claw. "No, I don't think she is." He glanced to the side towards the sight of the city on fire, then back down to the kids. "...Times are changing, squirts," he said, returning his sword to its sheath. "Might be worthwhile reconsidering what constitutes evil and what doesn't."

    "Boss!"

    He turned and found the other Woodsmen returning to him, ragged from their battle but anxiously glancing back to where the monstrous woman had been. "That lady-!" one of the men said.

    Lucas nodded sharply. "Your eyes don't deceive 'ya," he yelled, greeting the mercenaries as they returned. "The almighty Demon of the Shepherd is here to save our sorry hides."

    He chopped his hand on to the palm of his other, declaring, "Securin' the civilian evacuation route proceeds as planned!" He raised a fist in the air, a fanged expression on his face. "The Shepherd and his people are on their way, so let's put up a good show and teach 'em that when you hire the Woodsmen, you get what you pay for!"

    The men howled in response, their rallying cries defying the unnatural roars of the hellions invading their lands.

    Amidst a sea of monsters, the Great Tree of Marlind continued to burn.

    ---​

    A dull boom thrummed outside in the flaming chaos, rattling the stained-glass windows and causing dust to fall from the rafters upon the people taking desperate shelter inside the dim interior of the sanctuary. Hellish light from outside filtered in, mixing with the tinted windows to illuminate the space filled with huddled masses of terrified civilians and overwhelmed soldiers.

    In the center of the sanctuary, surrounded by anxious officers and hastily arranged tables and documents, Command General Landon of the Hyland Army paced back and forth in agitation.

    "The attack came in the middle of the night, sir," one of the officers reported as another impact rattled the walls causing civilians to cry out. "We lost a great number of troops just in the initial assault alone. Falling back to Marlind from the basin bought us some valuable time, but our forces are still taking heavy losses."

    Another officer spoke up, absently wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his glove. "We haven't been able to establish communication lines with a great many squadrons – I fear that they've been cut off completely or fully annihilated."

    Someone else spoke in a shaky voice, "The Rolance soldiers... t-there's something off about them all. They're absolutely horrible-!"

    BANG!

    General Landon smashed both of his gauntleted hands upon a table with an impact that echoed loudly in the confined space of the sanctuary. Fury blazed in his eyes. "I don't give a damn how horrible they are!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "There is no way those dogs of Rolance should have been able have us whipped so damn thoroughly! This is an absolute farce!"

    He turned on them, air rushing out of his nostrils like that of an enraged bull. "Which incompetent fool was responsible for the night patrols last night?!" he demanded loudly, eyes leaping accusingly from one officer to the next. "Someone let this happen and made a mockery of the great Hyland Army! I'll have whoever is responsible hanged – I swear it!" he spat.

    Suddenly, a yell arose from the entrance of the building. "They Rolance Army has breached our defensive perimeter!" a soldier cried hoarsely. "The sanctuary is compromised!"

    A single bead of cold sweat slid down the general's temple as his heartbeat quickened. "Damn!" he spat. A wave of fear and terror washed through the crowd. Outside, another boom sounded, seemingly far louder than any that had occurred before.

    "I am Princes Alisha Diphda of the Kingdom of Hyland! I demand that you let us through!"

    Landon blinked in surprise and shock as a shrill voice cut through the rising chaos. He, the other officers, soldiers, and civilians all turned as one to watch in shock as the princess of Hyland pushed her way into the sanctuary gates, followed by the Shepherd himself alongside a redheaded woman.

    In tandem with the Shepherd's appearance, a myriad of brilliant, colored flashes occurred from outside the stained-glass windows. Civilians and soldiers alike gaped in awe as supernatural explosions detonated in the vicinity of the sanctuary, causing the very earth below to tremble and quake.

    Princess Alisha stepped forward, raising her voice and addressing the people at large. "Citizens of Marlind! Soldiers of Hyland!" she yelled. "The Shepherd's seraphim are as of yet holding against the invading forces – we must not tarry! The Platinum Knights and the Woodsmen Mercenaries have established a corridor of escape to the east and are keeping it open."

    She slashed her arm through the air, gesturing beyond the doors that she had entered through. "It is time for everyone to evacuate the city! Please, make haste!" she cried.

    The general of the Hyland Army did nothing but stare at her in wordless astonishment. Outside, the flashes of brilliant colors continued, accompanied by dull thrumming of power resounding through the foundations of the building.

    Alisha narrowed her eyes in frustration. "General Landon!" she yelled gesturing directly to him. "You must see that this situation is hopeless! Please, give the order to retreat immediately!"

    Landon only continued to stare.

    Then, after a moment had passed, he broke out of his shock, a stupefied smile of amusement on his face. "...To think," he considered dryly as he shook his head, "the traitor princess herself would be so idiotic as to show her face directly to the general of the Hyland Army."

    His humorless smile disappeared as he glared at her directly, curling his fists in fury. "To think, she'd have the gall to give me orders?!"

    In a sudden flurry of motion, Landon whirled around and faced his officers while pointing directly at the newcomers behind him. "These are Hyland's most wanted criminals!" he barked loudly, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "The traitor princess and the False Shepherd himself!"

    The other woman accompanying the Shepherd stepped forward, a deathly serious expression on her face. "Why in the world would you think this is the right time for this?" Rose demanded, gesturing with her arm towards the windows filled with fire. "Have you looked outside? You really need to think your priorities through."

    A sharp thud resounded in the confined space as General Landon smashed his fist onto the table. "My priority is the defense of the great country of which I serve!" he roared furiously, veins bulging visibly in his temple. "Something that the Shepherd and his pathetic followers have interfered with time and time again!"

    He rammed his finger in the air, pointing directly at the Shepherd himself. "I'd rather die that let an opportunity to squash that idiotic boy and his companions like vermin under my boot! I won't have a repeat of the last time!" He turned his glare directly upon the soldiers hovering uncertainty at the sides of the interaction. "Seize them and behead them!" he bellowed.

    Sorey looked on with hard eyes, his lips drawn into a thin line.

    Yet he blinked in surprise as he found a figure placing his body between Sorey and the approaching soldiers, holding out his arms to both sides to prevent them from continuing. Neif, the representative of Marlind, stood steadfast in front of the Shepherd with resolute determination in his eyes.

    "The Shepherd," the elderly man growled, "saved my wife and my grandchildren, not to mention the lives of countless others during the plague." He slashed his walking stick through the air with a strength belying his age. "No matter what the rulers of Hyland say, no matter what rumors people spout, I'll always protect his man with my life!" he shouted, standing defiantly before the general and his soldiers. "Such is the only way I could ever repay him!"

    Sorey's eyes were wide in surprise. "Neif..." he mumbled.

    At the representative's words, many of the other civilians huddled in the chamber of the sanctuary came to life, rising from their places to join Neif and his act of defiance.

    "You're right, Neif," one said, "I can't just stand by and watch them spout this nonsense."

    "My mother was saved by the Shepherd's actions," another said. "I'd happily die for someone like him."

    "You dare raise arms against him?! I'll fight you to the last breath!"

    "Any government that stands against the Shepherd is no government of mine!"

    In the face of a rapidly growing mob, the soldiers approaching the Shepherd exchanged nervous looks and began to step back, their spears wavering. Behind the people of Marlind, Sorey had a worried expression.

    "Everyone," he said, looking around anxiously. "Please, don't-!"

    "THAT'S ENOUGH!"

    A deathly still silence fell as General Landon stalked forward, a dark expression on his face. His armored boots clanked dully as he approached, his empty fists curled in rage.

    "That boy," he growled lowly, "is the number one fugitive in the entire kingdom of Hyland." His gaze fell upon the multitude of civilians standing in the middle of the sanctuary between him and the Shepherd. "Anyone who attempts to protect him is charged with aiding and abetting of the highest degree." He jerked his hand to the side and yanked a spear out of the hands of a nearby soldier.

    "The penalty for such treason... IS DEATH!"

    With a scream, he lunged forward, thrusting the spear forward to skewer Neif through the stomach.

    Sorey moved with massive burst of mana, rising upward inhumanly high with his cloak flaring behind him. He then flashed down over the heads of the crowd, slamming into the ground and parrying the general's spear before it hit its mark. Landon let out an involuntary cry of surprise as his spearhead rebounded high up into the air from the deflection.

    Without a moment's hesitation, Sorey followed through and thrust his sword deep into the general's gut.

    General Landon let out a choked cry, his eyes widening in shock and pain as the sword drove out the other end of his body. Sorey's eyes were hard as the man's breath choked out beside his ear.

    "I'm sorry it had to be like this," he said sincerely.

    Then, he wrenched his sword out of the wound, spilling blood profusely onto the stones, and kicked the general away. The armored body crashed onto the floor sprawled on the aisle of the sanctuary, a stunned expression frozen on its face. A flare of flame arose outside, briefly illuminating the inside of the building in a flash of stark red light.

    Alisha and Rose were at Sorey's sides in an instant, their weapons raised against the remaining soldiers and officers.

    "Stand down!" Alisha yelled commandingly, meeting the uncertain and alarmed eyes of the members of her army. "Prepare the civilians for an evacuation at once, lest we all meet our demises here in a fiery grave!"

    Rose gave Landon's body a distasteful look. "Any general who tries to kill his own people isn't a general at all." She too met the eyes of the soldiers, gripping her daggers in her hands readily. "Do you really want to follow that guy's orders?" she demanded.

    "Shepherd..." From behind Sorey, Neif's voice was reverent.

    Sorey glanced back at the man, his eyes softening. "Get your people out, Neif," he urged him softly. "Get as many people to the east gate as you can. There are seraphim and knights outside who should be able to guide you all."

    In response, the old man fell directly to both knees and bowed his entire body in upmost reverence. "O Holy Shepherd," he intoned shakily. "I shall forever heed your words." Without hesitation, the rest of the Marlinders who had assembled behind Neif fell to their knees in similar reverence, murmuring phrases of devotion aloud.

    Sorey stood at the head of them all, blood still dripping from the tip of his sword. His jaw clenched.

    "H-Holy... Shepherd...?"

    Eyes widening in shock, Sorey turned alongside Rose and Alisha to find General Landon somehow stumbling to his feet, blood gushing copiously out of the wound in his stomach from both sides. "D-don't... make me laugh..."

    Landon's eyes glowed a horrible, vibrant red as he fixated on Sorey, pure hatred in his warped expression.

    "You're nothing..." he rasped. "...but a BRAT WITH POWERS!"

    BOOM!

    An enormous force burst violently outward from the general, shattering the stained-glass windows of the sanctuary with an enormous, ear-popping shockwave. Tables, chairs, soldiers, and civilians alike were hurled outwards from the epicenter like dead leaves in a hurricane.

    Sorey, being closest to the general, was tossed into the air like a doll, and hurled beyond the shattering glass and into the burning hellscape outside.

    The world spun over and over again as he tumbled amidst the debris, dull noises blaring in his ears and disorienting him further. When he finally came to a halt, dimly recognizing that he was lying atop smoldering grass, the world continued to spin. Blearily, he blinked his eyes until his surroundings came into focus.

    The heavens were being consumed by fire.

    Burning leaves rained down from the inferno engulfing the Great Tree of Marlind above – a great carpet of brilliant orange flames snuffing out the darkened skies beyond. The indistinct sounds of clanging metal and screaming meshed with the crackling of flame and the rattling of debris as the world smoldered. Smoke and ash enveloped everything, the thick plumes of black layering over it all.

    High up above, an enormous branch blackened with flame separated with an ear-splitting crack, hurtling down from the heavens and smashing into another part of the city with a horrible impact that left the earth trembling.

    Sorey blinked again as the vibrations rattled his body, trying dimly to regain his bearings.

    "SOREY!"

    At the sound of Velvet's voice, Sorey forced himself to focus. He gasped and hurled himself to the side as an enormous bronze sword almost twice his height smashed into the dirt where he'd been lying, driving deep into the earth with inhuman strength. With quick movements, Sorey scrambled to his feet, thankful to still find his sword grasped tightly in his hand as he faced off against his attacker.

    The hellion that had once been General Landon snarled heavily as he wrenched the enormous sword out of the dirt, his hulking wolfen body wreathed in putrid malevolence. Trails of saliva glistened in the light of the burning heavens as he turned to face Sorey, pure hatred in his inhuman eyes.

    Sorey grit his teeth, readying himself for battle. He quickly surveyed his surroundings, finding Velvet and the others locked in a chaotic struggle with an overwhelming mass of hellions surrounding the grass around the sanctuary. He met Velvet's eyes briefly with a thankful nod before returning to his gaze to the corrupted general.

    And so, he fought.

    Time became a lost concept to Sorey under the terrifying, otherworldly glow of the burning tree above. He slashed, pivoted, leapt, ducked, armatized, and unleashed arte after arte. He battled the general and countless other hellions as the ranks closed in around them all, slowly strangling the Shepherd and his followers more and more in endless waves.

    He would at times receive support from others in his group, while other times he would provide his. Wounds that he suffered could be healed, the drakes he faced could be taken down with team effort, and the lesser hellions could be driven off in bulk with supporting seraphic artes.

    And yet the night never ended.

    Gasping for breath, Sorey stumbled backwards, his sword quivering tiredly in his grasp. At the sound of crunching grass, he glanced over and found Zaveid beside him, his eyes in deep concentration as he finalized an arte.

    With a yell, the seraph thrust his hand forward, forming a pair of enormous jaws from the wind itself to clamp down upon a group of hellions approaching the two of them. The group of werewolf and pig hellions collapsed under the might of the powerful arte, slumping down on the ground and joining the bodies of countless other hellions too wounded to continue.

    Letting out a breath, Zaveid glanced over at Sorey, a wry grin on his face that failed to hide his exhaustion. "Well," he drawled, glancing over at Sorey's opponent, the hellionized general, who was currently collecting himself for yet another charge. "This is one hell of a mess that we've gotten ourselves into, huh?"

    Sorey could only give him an exhausted grunt, readjusting the grip on his sword in preparation for more.

    Zaveid glanced around them casually. "Cut off completely from the knights," he said, "fighting endless waves of hellions, defending humans inside the sanctuary with no means of escape." He glanced up at the blindingly bright flames above them. "Oh, not to mention the sky's on fire," he added dryly, "I'm guessing that tree might collapse any second now." He glanced at Sorey. "Still thinking this was a bright idea?"

    Sorey gave the wind seraph a sad smile in return, sweat running down his temple. "What can I say?" he replied tiredly. "We're just a bunch of amateurs."

    "Heh." Zaveid shook his head in amusement. "It's a shame I'll be going out like this, but it can't be helped, I suppose." He readied himself for another arte as more hellions charged out towards them and as the general rose for yet another attack. "Guess I'll just have to make it worth my while," he said with a fanged grin.

    And then, suddenly, a monstrous roar echoed throughout the night.

    Zaveid's eyes widened.

    Enormous claws slammed deafeningly into the earth as a huge, winged figure dove onto the ground, razor-sharp fangs glistening in the light of the flames as it pounced upon its unsuspecting prey. The hellionized General Landon barely had a chance to yell in surprise before his lupine head was bit clean off by an enormous, scaled dragon in a spray of blood and gore.

    The giant beast then whirled around on all fours, sweeping its muscled tail and flinging dozens of nearby armored hellions as if they were paper cards. The surrounding hellions shrunk away in terror, even amidst their frenzied bloodlusts, in the face of a fully-grown dragon. Victorious, the dragon spread its wings, reared its head back, and uttered a horrible roar, its giant figure silhouetted by the flames of the burning city.

    The ground shook underneath Sorey as he took an involuntary step back, his eyes wide in shock. "That's...!" he gasped.

    By his side, Zaveid had a grim smile on his face.

    "...Perfect," he said slowly. "I couldn't've asked for anything better."

    As the dragon turned to face him and Sorey, Zaveid's smile widened. "Looks like I'll have my chance to keep my promises and die without regrets," he muttered, stepping forward. He shrugged. "It took me a while, I'll admit," he said out loud to the dragon. "Beating down something as stubborn as you wasn't ever going to be easy."

    His fists clenched. "But now, I'll take you down, just like I swore I would," he growled, lunging forward towards the enormous monster. "Because that's just your way!" he yelled. "Isn't that right, Eizen?!"

    With that, he dove under the swiping claw of the dragon and let his pendulum loose, slicing it against its thick hide.

    "Damn!" Sorey glanced to the side, finding Velvet standing nearby watching Zaveid fight against the dragon. Her eyes were hard as they tracked the fight, keenly observing the dragon who had once been known as Eizen. "Of all the times..." she muttered, her hellionized claw gripped tightly in a fist at her side.

    After a moment, her eyes narrowed. "...Suppose it's only fair," she growled. "Fine. So be it."

    With that, she too lunged forward, meeting the dragon's claws with her own as she joined Zaveid in a deadly dance in the memory of an old friend.

    Sorey stood there, his limbs drained of energy and his breath coming out in ragged breaths, watching as the two of them battled an incomprehensibly powerful beast amidst a vortex of malevolence and flame. Then, he noticed a bright amber umbrella out of the corner of his eye.

    Edna stood completely still, shock evident in her expression as she watched the monster that her brother had become battle against Zaveid and Velvet, her umbrella limp in her grip. After a moment's hesitation, Sorey decided to stumble towards the earth seraph amidst the lull in the chaos.

    "Hey, Edna," he said softly, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder to gently extract her from her shock.

    She blinked, her eyes refocusing after a moment to find him standing beside her. She frowned, turning her gaze back to the fight before her. "...What?" she asked quietly, an undercurrent of emotion in her voice. "It's my brother," she muttered. "So what? We're going to die anyways."

    Sorey glanced around at their surroundings, taking in the burning buildings and the battles of the other seraphim fending off hellions nearby. He shook his head sadly. "That's why I'm here," he replied sadly, turning back to Edna. "I'm sorry – I wish I was stronger," he said softly. "But that's why I'm afraid you might not get another chance."

    She tilted her head slightly at him, tears unshed glistening in her eyes. "A chance to do what, exactly?" she asked in a tired voice. "Hurry up and get to the point."

    Sorey glanced over at the dragon that was her brother. He watched as Velvet Crowe danced before it in her deadly swordplay, whirling around to slice the hide of the dragon with her hidden boot blade as she dodged its slamming tail in the process. He considered the therion, in the light of the hellish landscape, letting the emotions of a previous, terrible moment wash over him.

    "What is possible, and what isn't?" he asked softly, his words barely audible over the clamor of battle and the crackling of burning wood. "Are things ever so simple as that in this world?" He turned to Edna, who was watching him intently, and gave her a soft smile.

    "...You should listen to what you feel in your heart is right," he said, gently resting a fist against his own chest. "That is all you need to know."

    Edna's lips drew into a thin line.

    "D-damn." Zaveid coughed out a glob of blood onto the grass below as he stumbled to his feet, holding a hand to his side where the dragon's claw had bashed him. "You're a tough old bastard, I'll give you that much, Eizen!" he yelled. His hand slipped into the holster on his side. "But don't you go underestimating me, either!" he shouted, tearing out Seigfreid and leveling it at the monster's head.

    His eyes widened as he saw the tail coming his way far too late.

    CRASH!

    He slammed into the wall of a nearby building, cracks forming in the stones around the impact. Seigfreid tumbled away from his grip, clattering uselessly out of reach as he slumped onto the ground. His head swimming, he glanced up weakly just in time to see Velvet being forced away by a massive gout of fire unleashed from the dragon's gut.

    Zaveid smiled tiredly as the dragon turned to bear down upon him, its inhuman eyes bearing not a hint of recognition or emotion. "Gave it... my best shot," he muttered softly, sliding his eyes shut in exhaustion. "Sorry 'bout that."

    The dragon raised its head, opening its maw in preparation to devour him whole.

    "Brother! You must stop!"

    At Edna's voice, the dragon jerked to a halt. Slowly, deliberately, it turned around and found a lone seraph with an umbrella walking up to it.

    Up above, the flames had consumed the majority of the Great Tree of Marlind. Enormous, building-sized branches fell at increasing rates, crashing down like flaming meteors to annihilate complete sections of the city in earth-trembling impacts. Thunder from the skies beyond boomed inexplicably, accompanied by a sudden downpour of rain tinted grey by smoke and ash that seeped between the branches of the withering tree.

    The dirty rain pattered off Edna's umbrella as she approached, her oversized male boots squelching in the ashen muck. Her eyes stayed fixated on the dragon's emotionless ones, utterly uncaring of the perilous danger she was placing herself in. She came to a halt in the open, standing still amidst the rain as the dragon began to lumber towards her.

    "You always did stupid things," she said, frowning in irritation as thunder roared loudly in her ears. "Whatever you did, you always found the dumbest hills to die on."

    The dragon loomed over her – a massive dark silhouette engulfing her tiny form as it approached. Its claws smashed into the ground growing louder and louder with each step.

    She glared back up at it, tears in her eyes. "And now that it's finally caught up with you, you think you can just fade away and disappear?" she shouted, stomping her boot in the mud. "You hypocrite! What happened to all those ideals that you spouted in those letters – that stubbornness to live the way you wanted to?!"

    Thunder boomed in the skies beyond the flaming tree as rain continued to fall, sizzling noisily as it met the smoldering buildings surrounding the sanctuary. The dragon came to a halt before the lone seraph, a low growl sounding in its throat as it began to lower its head, its jaw opening wide to reveal a terrible set of fangs.

    Edna trembled with emotion, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gripped the stupid plushie of the orange normin in her gloved hand, her teeth gritted harshly together. "You wanted to die on your own terms," she muttered, "but I know you're still there. I'm your sister, after all."

    She stood defiantly as the dragon opened its mouth fully, ready to swallow her whole. Her umbrella spun around briefly on her shoulder before she reached up and tossed it aside carelessly, exposing her body to the full deluge of ashen rain trickling down from the burning tree above. Rivulets of dirt and grime trailed down her neck as she stared into the face of her doom, eyes fierce.

    "I almost lost someone recently because she thought she was lost, too," she said, curling her hand into a fist. "I won't go through that again; do you hear me? Especially not with my own damn brother!"

    She glared up at the dragon and stepped forward, heedless of the fangs glistening above her. "I won't! So... just... JUST...!"

    Thunk.

    The tears on Edna's cheeks glistened in the light of the fires, mixing with dirty rainwater as she hung her head. Her gloved fist rested on the lower jaw of the dragon, the result of her weak punch against the beast that had once been her brother.

    "So just wake up already, idiot!" she demanded hotly, sniffling and ruefully scrubbing her tears away with her other hand.

    The rain continued to fall.

    She stood like that, trembling in exhaustion and emotion with her fist pushed up against the dragon's skin. Rainwater dripped down her soaked amber hair, mixing with the tears that continued to fall. The sounds of battle and of the crumbling of the human city were all irrelevant to her. All that mattered was the warm breath of the enormous dragon washing over her shoulders.

    Then, suddenly, the dragon lifted its head, its maw filling with a terrible orange glow as flames built up in its gut. She closed her eyes.

    FWOOSH!

    Edna's eyes flew open in shock as she found the dragon breathing an enormous plume of flame directly over her head, engulfing the hellions in the perimeter of the sanctuary in fire. A section of hellions was consumed instantly by wickedly hot flames, with many others stumbled backwards and out of the way in animalistic fright. In the face of such draconic might, even the assembled army of hellions began to scramble away, thrust into chaos in an instant.

    Closing its maw with an audible snap, the dragon turned its head to regard her, an awfully intelligent glint in its eyes.

    Edna's eyes watered again, but this time, in joy. "Brother...!"

    Leaning heavily against the wall of the sanctuary, Sorey had a tired smile on his face as he watched the two of them. He chuckled softly. "Looks like you were right, Gramps," he said warmly. "I'm glad you were."

    On the other side of the grassy area, Velvet, bowed over in exhaustion, glanced between Eizen, Edna, and Sorey. After a moment, she sighed in dry exasperation, and turned away. She extended a hand to Zaveid, who had an utterly dumbfounded expression on his face. He glanced up at her, took in the smirk on her lips, and frowned in affront even as he accepted her hand and pulled himself to his feet.

    "Now wait just a damn minute," he growled hoarsely, glancing at the dragon and Edna before giving Velvet an accusing look. "You knew this would happen?"

    She shrugged in response. "I had no idea," she said freely, waving her bandaged arm in the air. "But, I suppose if there's one thing you can say about these people that's similar..." She glanced to the side at the sound of crunching grass, finding someone approaching the two of them under the weakening rain.

    Lailah had a wan, tired smile on her face as she stepped up to the two of them. "The, 'sheer thickness of their skulls,' was it?" she said gently.

    Velvet let out a chuckle, turning back towards the brother and sister standing together. "...Yeah," she agreed. "Something like that."

    A warm smile had formed on her lips.

    With a fierce roar, Eizen backed away from his sister and spread his wings, taking to the skies in a rush of buffeting winds. As one, the group watched as the dragon soared above in the air between the burning buildings and the flaming tree, a great, ominous figure silhouetted by ruinous flames.
     
  7. Threadmarks: C29 - Dawn
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 29 – Dawn.

    Velvet charged heedlessly into the night.

    Steel boots clanked harshly against shingles underfoot as she bounded from roof to roof, her figure silhouetted by the full moon with a cascade of raven hair trailing her every move. Her breath came out in short, quick exhales, her eyes unceasingly keen as she scanned her surroundings.

    In the sea of buildings before her, patches of smoke rose outward to vanish into the cold night air. In the streets below her, groups of civilians and soldiers scrambled to and from in a near universal panic amidst the shadowed moonlight. The occasional distant boom of energy in the distance spontaneously rattled the cobblestones and walls of the city, driving the city dwellers into even more of a confused frenzy.

    She briefly extended her daemon arm and slammed it onto a rooftop below, the momentum propelling her across a major thoroughfare to land atop a stopped waterwheel on the other side. Perching atop the giant mechanism, her eyes narrowed as she spotted activity across from her.

    There, in the middle of a street, huddled a group of civilians shakily wielding swords against a pack of lizardmen hellions. The children in the group had huddled tightly against the adults, terror in their eyes. The hellions snarled as they stepped forward, raising their swords and batting the weapons of the parents heedlessly aside. With inhuman deftness, they moved to skewer the civilians.

    She didn't give them a chance to do so.

    "DEVOUR!"

    Her monstrous claw slammed into the leader of the hellions, greedily consuming the malevolence while it struggled helplessly. Without even pausing in devouring the hellion in her grasp, Velvet twisted her body around and used its struggling body as a club to bash away the others with inhuman strength. Blood flew in an explosion of gore as the hellion was consumed, leaving her claw free for more.

    She charged, parrying the curved swords of the lizard hellions while thrusting her own into their hides with fierce cries. Her claw consumed hellion after hellion, each disappearing into the appendage with grotesque squelches after the next.

    Within moments, she had annihilated the entire squad of scouts.

    Catching her breath, she stood up straight. A cool night breeze tinged with the scent of ashes brushed past her as she did, toying with her hair and clothing in a soft symphony of clinking metal. During the battle, the street had been filled with the repetitive sound of metal on metal and of the squelching of her claw devouring victims. Now, it was completely silent.

    She glanced at the civilians huddled in the middle of the street, unsurprisingly finding nothing but terror and fear in their expressions.

    She waved her hand to the side. "Go on," she said dryly, heedless of their expressions. "The underground ruins are being used as shelters right now – I suggest you go there."

    "Y... you," one of the women in the group stammered, pointing directly at her while looking as if she'd seen a ghost. "Y-you're the-!"

    "The 'Demon of the Shepherd,' right?" Velvet sighed, shaking her head while callously waving her monstrous arm in the air. "Yeah, yeah."

    "You're... really letting us live?" another of the group, an older man, said in disbelief.

    "If I wasn't," she said at length, giving the man a look, "would I really be wasting time talking to you right now?" She shook her head. "The city's being invaded," she said curtly. "It wouldn't be wise to linger." She raised an eyebrow questioningly at them. "...That is, unless you want me to devour you too?"

    She got a much livelier reaction in response to that. Together, the group of men, women, and children hurriedly gathered up their dropped belongings and started moving down the street together, giving the monstrous woman a wide, wide berth in the process. She shook her head in exasperation is they did, glancing up to the sky as she planned her next move.

    "E... Excuse me, uh... l-lady?"

    She blinked and looked back down. She found a young boy with his eyes wide and bulging at the sight of her hellion arm, and yet still shuffling up to her nonetheless. She laid her human hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him. "What is it?" she asked.

    He gulped, glancing back at his group who had stopped to gawk in horror at him before meeting her gaze with effort. "Um... I..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I-I wanted to thank you again!" he said quickly in a tumbling manner, sharply jerking his body forward and back up again in a jerky bow.

    Velvet's eyebrow rose further. "'Again?'"

    "Y-yeah!" the spiky-haired boy nodded quickly, seemingly gaining more and more courage the longer the monstrous woman hadn't seen fit to eat him alive. "You saved me and my father from wolves once, when we were traveling to the city." He swallowed, failing briefly in his battle to keep his eyes away from the enormous claw at her side before snapping his eyes resolutely back to her gaze. "Back then... I... I didn't realize you were... well..." The boy coughed awkwardly.

    After a moment, Velvet huffed in amusement, managing to finally place the boy in her memories. "There's no need for thanks," she said, a small, wry smile inexplicably forming on her lips. "I was just using you and your father for information."

    The boy snapped his gaze up towards her with a surprising degree of ferocity in response. "I don't care about that!" he shook his head sharply. "And I don't care what the big wigs say about you either. I get, yeah?"

    He gave her an earnest smile, all hints of fear apparently melting away to his eagerness. "Sometimes, you just need to act scary enough, so that the scary things run away, right?" he quoted reasonably.

    Velvet blinked.

    Then, she chuckled, shaking her head slowly at the kid's words. "...That's right," she agreed softly. "Though sometimes, that might not actually be necessary."

    "You're with that Shepherd guy, right?" the boy continued, starting to bounce up and down repeatedly, apparently completely forgetting about the large claw hanging off the woman's torso. "Is he coming here to save us or something? 'Cuz if so, that's awesome! My dad's been all sorts of worried about everything lately, like, about the war and the food and stuff – it'd be so nice if someone like the Shepherd could come over here and make everything okay."

    "He won't be the answer to all your problems," Velvet replied dryly, shifting on her feet. "There'll always be hungry wolves out there, you know."

    The boy seemed slightly deflated for a moment, before realizing something. "That's fine, we'll definitely be okay!" he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. "'Cuz you taught us how to deal with them, didn't you, lady?"

    "...Guess so," Velvet huffed, briefly glancing up at the rest of the group of civilians who were watching the exchange with increasingly befuddled expressions. The older man who had spoken to her earlier met her gaze with a tilted brow. She shrugged wordlessly in response.

    "So then," the boy said, drawing her attention again. "If you're here, lady," he said, pointing to her, "then where is Shepherd Sorey?"

    Just then, a brilliant flare of artificial red light flashed out into the night in the skies above the city, rising in a curved arc before falling slowly back down towards a section of the city. Velvet and the rest of the civilians watched the unnatural light drifting slowly back down, burning strangely amidst the starry skies.

    Velvet pointed a human finger towards the falling light. "He's right there," she said dryly.

    And right on cue, a terrifying roar echoed out above the city of Ladylake, thrumming outwards across the surrounding waters in all directions. The foreboding sound of enormous wings beating against the wind in erratic pumps drew closer and closer as the world stood frozen in the wake of the initial roar.

    FWOOSH!

    A brilliant flare blotted out the night sky above as an enormous column of fire erupted from the heavens upon where the red light hovered. A fully-grown dragon dove through the skies above, its maw gaping open and dousing the area with white-hot flames. Its wings beat powerfully as it skimmed the top of buildings at the lowest point of its dive, its belly brushing against the fires that its breath had set alight.

    It swooped up, briefly regaining some altitude, before banking to the left, inadvertently giving them a clear glimpse of a lone figure clad in brilliant white clothing accented with traces of azure standing up on the back of its neck.

    The Shepherd Sorey, riding upon the back of a hellion of legend, let out a fierce cry as he fired a barrage of arrows upon those below.

    Beams of pure blue energy tore through the night sky in brilliant streaks of light, crashing with point-blank accuracy upon select targets below. The dragon continued to bank in a steady orbit amidst the night sky, enabling the barrage to encompass all angles in the area. Devastation reigned in the wake of their combined might.

    "That.... that's so freaking awesome!"

    To Velvet's amusement, the kid at her side began to cheer and whoop as the Shepherd continued bombarding the area from atop Eizen. "Go, Shepherd Sorey!" he crowed.

    Watching as the dragon banked its body for another run, she put a hand on her hip. "Looks like they finally found the main forces," she said, stepping back as the world briefly became aglow in the light of flames again. She glanced down at the kid. "Be careful," she said. "It'll be a bit longer before hungry wolves can be your only problem again."

    "Okay!" the boy replied brightly, fierce determination forming on his expression. "Thank you for everything, lady. I'll be rooting for you and the Shepherd, with everything that I have!" He bowed once more, this time with far more grace than his initial one. "Goodbye!" With that, he hurried on over back to the group that he had been with, waving off their half-hearted scolding.

    As they set off again at an urgent pace towards the underground shelters, the boy turned around and gave Velvet one last enthusiastic wave before following suit. She watched them leave with a thoughtful expression.

    There had been a time, she recalled absently, when things had been different. Once, she had been a stray wolf, strutting freely amongst a flock of clueless sheep. An intruder, in every respect of the word.

    It was strange how long ago that seemed.

    Shaking her head, she glanced back up at the sky as Eizen and Sorey banked around for another dive upon Heldalf's forces pushing into Ladylake. With the help of her daemon claw, she pushed off the street and flew high into the sky, gracefully alighting on the rooftops above.

    Without any more hesitation, the former Lord of Calamity pushed forward into a run, charging heedlessly towards the future.

    ---​

    The sound of Eizen's roars echoed loudly into the night sky beyond the glass windows as the group of intruders tore into Rountabel Palace. The entirety of Ladylake sprawled outward from the tall vantage point of the upper floors, visibly marred with patches of soot, grime, and flame. Flashes of brilliant orange occasionally lit up the starry skies outside, accompanied by fierce detonations of mana that caused the foundations of the grand palace to tremble.

    Every turn they took, signs of battle lay strewn across the bloodied carpets.

    Sorey glanced briefly over his shoulder as he ran. Velvet, Rose, and Alisha ran by his side. Lailah, Mikleo, Edna, and Dezel followed swiftly behind.

    "Do you think Sergei and the others will be okay?" he asked, briefly interrupting his rhythmic breathing. His voice echoed off the surrounding walls as they continued to run together through the vaulted corridors.

    "They've got Eizen kicking butt for them out there," Rose replied easily, briefly coming to a halt in front of a large doorway and checking inside before beckoning them through. "I'd be more worried for the sake of Heldalf's sea of goons than anything else."

    "However, we have yet to see hide nor hair of Heldalf himself," Lailah said, her long hair slinging behind her as she started running again, "despite having confronted the bulk of his invading army. That is... worrisome."

    Dezel grunted, his boots slamming into carpet underfoot. "I'd say count your blessings while you can," he said darkly. "If Maotelus gets thrown into the mix, that dragon out there won't stand a chance."

    "Guess we should all give up then," Edna supposed, her closed umbrella trailing after her in her loose grip. "All hail Lord Kittybeard, ruler of the world."

    Mikleo chuckled, glancing to the side at Dezel. "We managed to make it through Marlind with the help of Edna's brother," he pointed out reasonably. "I wouldn't count us out yet."

    The wind seraph's teeth bared in the light of the flickering candles lining the walls of the corridor. "The hell kind of a group is this?" he growled lowly.

    Velvet gave him a look over her shoulder. "It's a little late to be realizing how stupid their plans are, don't you think?" she asked dryly. She returned her gaze forward callously. "You're either willing to do what needs to be done or you're not. I suggest you figure it out."

    "Don't you lecture me about that!" Dezel snapped back.

    "Poor, indecisive Dezel," Edna said sympathetically, an indulgent smile on her face. "Be careful, you might die of old age before getting anything done if you keep being afraid. Old man Dezel. Oldezel."

    A wordless growl of indignation followed.

    Mikleo had a wry look on his face. "Guess you should think twice before doubting Edna's brother," he supposed. He shook his head, returning his eyes forward as he ran. "Still, it really is worrying. Why wouldn't Heldalf be at the head of his own army when invading Hyland?"

    "We'll find out, one way or another," Sorey said resolutely, his white cloak flapping behind him. "Alisha, are we getting close to the safe room?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

    The princess nodded; her features carved in determination. "The chancellors should have evacuated there the moment word of the invasion came," she said, her lance gripped tightly in her hand. "Yet, these bodies..."

    Her eyes were sad as the group ran past even more signs of battle – slaughtered Hyland guards lying lifelessly in pools of blood in the corridors of the Rountabel Palace. She shook her head, focusing her thoughts away from her slain countrymen. "...I fear we may be too late," she said urgently. "We must hurry!"

    "This much effort to save those sleazebags, huh?" Rose said, shaking her head. "I swear, they'd better take those prices off our heads when we do."

    "I understand how it might seem distasteful," Alisha allowed, briefly glancing to the side and out the windows of the corridor as another distant flash of orange lit the skies. "Yet be that as it may, those chancellors are truly the leaders that keep the kingdom together. That is why I asked that you did not kill them, back then."

    "Yeah, yeah," Rose sighed, briefly leaping over a fallen shield lying on the floor with agile grace. "Lesser evils and all that, huh?"

    Together, the group charged further and further onward, deeper into the palace.

    Another series of bursts of distant flame from outside rhythmically illuminated the final corridor as they came to a ragged halt, weapons held warily at the ready. A single, heavy door made of thick metal laid at the end of the corridor, its surface emblazoned with the symbol of the Hyland royal family.

    It was hanging slightly ajar.

    Exchanging wary looks, the Shepherd's group stepped forward, their figures silhouetted by the windows on either side of the corridor. Sorey's sword was perfectly steady as he approached the safe room, his eyes narrowed. With his offhand, he reached forward carefully and, after a moment, yanked the metal door open.

    The smell of blood and gore washed over him in a putrid wave. He winced, then narrowed his eyes as the scene within.

    A single figure stood in the middle of the safe room; her clothing soaked in patches of blood. The bodies of all the chancellors of Hyland laid in various parts of the room, their expressions frozen in the terror of their final moments. The lone intruder turned slowly to face the Shepherd and his group, putting her back to the massacre that she'd committed.

    Maltran, the acting military advisor to the Holy Kingdom of Hyland, stood in a calm straight-backed posture amidst the dead silent room, seemingly unsurprised to find Sorey and the others at the entrance.

    "Ah, you're here," she said calmly, flicking some blood off her metal gauntlets before sweeping a few stray strands of magenta hair to the side. "Good. I was getting tired of waiting."

    Alisha's eyes bulged in shock and horror. "M-Master?!" she gasped.

    "Maltran." Sorey stepped forward, his eyes hard. "Why?" he asked quietly.

    "Why?" Maltran seemed amused by the question, letting her armored hand fall to her side. She gave Sorey a disdainful look. "It is a simple matter. In war, you do not merely beat back your enemies so they can come and fight you another day." She gestured towards the grizzly sight behind her, a callous expression on her face. "You crush them, wholly and completely."

    "Who are your enemies, then?" Rose asked, glancing around at the bodies of the dead chancellors before meeting Maltran's gaze. "I don't get it. Why did Heldalf kill the emperor of Rolance just to abandon the throne? Why'd he then put you up to this?" She gave the hellion an inquisitive look.

    "You appear to be confused," the advisor said with a vindictive laugh, metal clinking as she crossed her gauntleted arms before her corset. "The lowly foot soldier asks not why this, or who that," she said deliberately, her eyes cold. "The soldier only does as they are told, for the sake of the future they believe in."

    "And do you?"

    Alisha's voice trembled with emotion, yet her eyes were firm and determined as she stepped forward, facing her former master. "Do you truly believe in his future, Maltran?" she asked, her gauntleted hands curled into fists. "The 'beauty and grace of a world imbued with nothing but pure, raw malevolence.' Such nonsense!"

    "And what do you offer in its stead, pathetic princess?" her master replied derisively, repeatedly tapping her index finger upon her arm. "A world of nothing but purity? An all-encompassing utopia wherein malevolence is stamped out and painted over with a sheen of white? Don't make me laugh!"

    She thrust her arm out behind her, towards the bodies of the chancellors. "I told you, did I not? Humanity will always fail you – It is their very nature!" She curled her armed hand into a fist with the subtle squealing of leather and metal. "To try and purify hellions... to forcibly erase the most base and innate desires of mankind is the greatest of sins itself."

    Maltran met Sorey's gaze, loathing and hatred in her eyes. "...I revile high and mighty types like you," she seethed lowly, every word dripping in spite. "Who try to ignore the realities of this world – what depravities people are truly capable of. That is my answer for why, 'Holy Shepherd Sorey,'" she spat mockingly.

    At Sorey's side, Velvet watched Maltran, her lips drawn into a thin line.

    "...I believe that is enough," Maltran stated, lowering a hand and reaching into a pouch strapped onto the side of her arm. "Let us finish this now, as is proper." A brilliant, tainted glow shone outward from the gem that she withdrew.

    Rose blinked in shock. "Wait, that's-!"

    A blinding flash of indistinct colors suddenly exploded outward, the group stumbling backwards recoiling from the enormous wave of energy that accompanied it. An almighty tremor shook the walls of the palace, rattling the windows at a frenzied pace. When the light and the shaking subsided, Sorey and the others found the safe room completely empty.

    Outside, the world began to rumble.

    Exchanging looks, the group quickly fell into motion, charging out the opposite end of the corridor. Alisha threw a regretful glance over her shoulder at the bodies of the slain chancellors lying in the room before following suit.

    A dreadfully icy chill wind washed over them as they emerged outside, coming to a halt atop a large balcony on the very upper floors of the enormous palace.

    Alisha put a hand to her mouth in horror.

    Above, heavy, foreboding clouds had begun to gather at unnatural speeds, coalescing into dark masses that blotted out the light of the distant rising sun and plunging the world back into darkness. Down by the shorelines of the city, the waters had begun to recede drastically, leaving behind the sodden lakebed lying naked and exposed for the first time in centuries.

    Thunder boomed loudly as the heavens suddenly opened, unleashing a cascade of water falling unceasingly onto the city underneath. The winds began to grow even stronger, whipping the falling rain in contradicting directions.

    There, in the center of the growing maelstrom, held aloft by a pair of deep violet wings pulsating in malevolence, was Maltran. Her magenta hair and royal formal wear whirled wildly in the forces of the developing storm. A glowing iris gem shone brightly with a corrupted purple hue, embedded directly into her chest.

    She beckoned them, a cold smile on her face.

    Alisha grit her teeth.

    As thunder boomed and torrential rain crashed down upon her, the princess of Hyland curled her armored hands into fists and glared up at her former master, resolutely. "I will not stand for this," she said determinedly, her voice almost lost amidst the horrible winds. "If this is truly what you believe, Master, then I shall show you the strength of my determination against such words!"

    Her lance cut through the rain as she raised it against the hellion hovering in the storm, ferocity in her eyes. "The strength of a knight that which you have forgotten!" she cried.

    "Let's go, guys!" Sorey yelled, wrenching his sword out of its sheath.

    Brilliant flashes of color rivaled the bursts of rapid lightning as the Sorey, Alisha, and Rose armatized in sync before bursting into motion.

    Her body illuminated with the neon green of wind, Alisha took to the skies in a fierce burst of speed, streaking directly towards her master. Rose appeared in a flash of blue and white, raising a bow of azure and taking aim from the cover of the palace walls. Sorey, his body alight with crimson, bounded to the edge of the balcony and thrust out his hand. A blinding red glow shot out from his palm, its light shooting out brightly into the downpour. Within moments, a distant roar answered his signal.

    Amidst the chaotic maelstrom engulfing the city of Ladylake, the Shepherd and his followers fought.

    Alisha and Maltran exchanged blows in the skies above the capital, steel crashing against steel as their lances slid off each other amidst the whirling rain. They buzzed around each other like a pair of angry hornets, one leaving a jagged trail of brilliant neon green, the other leaving one of putrid violet. Their expressions were locked in fierce determination, barely visible amidst the dark and thunderous storm.

    Brilliant blue streaks of light shot outward from the top of the palace standing against the downpour, harrying the hellion with careful precision shots and forcing her to take evasive action rather than attack Alisha relentlessly.

    Maltran grinned viciously as she spun around in a twisting loop, avoiding the thrust of Alisha's spear while retaliating with a swing of her own while upside down. She followed through smoothly when the princess dove down into the air to avoid the attack, chasing after the armatized squire relentlessly.

    The hurricane-level winds screamed in their ears as they dove and exchanged further blows, punctuated by successive booms of thunder as the maelstrom grew even more frantic all around them. Their battle cries were drowned out entirely by the horrible storm engulfing the entirety of Lake Perniya. As they neared the ground, unnatural waves of enormous height smashed into the sides of Ladylake with incredible force, water decimating nearby buildings and flooding the streets entirely.

    Before she could crash into the flooded streets, Alisha twisted her body in her dive and flew upward, simultaneously jerking her finger towards the pursuing Maltran with her off hand. In response, a pair of jagged neon green wings separated from her back and flung towards the hellion with furious speed. The corrupted hellion batted them away smartly with her spear, but then was forced to dive to the side as an azure beam of energy blasted through the air where she'd been. Despite it all, her indulgent grin remained on her face as she lunged upward for Alisha once more, who was hard-pressed to withstand her rain of blows.

    Suddenly, a blinding streak of crimson sliced through the torrential rain, barely managing to clip Maltran on the side as she tried to avoid it. She winced, her malevolent wings keeping her aloft as she righted herself, finding the Shepherd landing on a nearby rooftop from his fall. She snapped her head upward to where he had leapt from.

    She was then met with the sight of an enormous set of fangs as a fully grown dragon tore through the darkened skies towards her, maw wide open. She gritted her teeth and willed a burst of speed into her flight, shooting off and away from Alisha as a fierce gout of flame seared through the rain towards her.

    As the dragon shot past her, a lone figure leapt down from its back, a red streak tearing down from over its shoulder.

    Metal squealed loudly amidst the storm as Velvet's claw met Maltran's spear.

    They met each other's eyes as Velvet's momentum pushed Maltran forcibly towards the ground below. The advisor gritted her teeth in fury. "You..." she growled, barely audible in the storm and the screaming winds as they fell. "I believe shall ask you once more...!"

    With a flash of malevolence, Maltran's wings redirected their momentum upward, curving high up and into the sky. Storm clouds enveloped the two of them entirely, deafening booms of thunder sounding from all directions.

    Velvet's eyes were narrowed harshly as she gripped Maltran's spear off to the side, using her human hand to hold Maltran's other arm in a preventive lock.

    "Why?!" Maltran demanded again, her hair slinging wildly as they tilted into another dive, plunging through the storm clouds with reckless abandon. "You failed to answer me the first time I asked! Do you truly believe in that child's foolish dream? Do you truly believe in such lies?!"

    The clouds abruptly vanished all around them as they fell out from beneath and into the torrential rain once more. The entirety of Ladylake sprawled out underneath them amidst the raging gales, approaching rapidly as they hurtled back down to earth.

    "Humans and seraphim will never be able to coexist with hellions!" Maltran snarled, her face contorted with effort as she and Velvet struggled. "The very nature of the Shepherd – the power of purification – is an antithesis to the existence of all hellions such as yourself! Why then do you insist on allowing yourself to be led by the nose by that boy?!"

    Velvet gritted her teeth.

    The two hurled into a corkscrew as the enormous form of Eizen shot past them through the murky storm, a great gust of turbulent wind buffeting the two in its wake. As the world spun around and around the two, Maltran fixated her entire attention on the therion grasping her. "I will ask again, Velvet Crowe!" she yelled, her eyes bulging in frustration. "Why do you follow Shepherd Sorey?!"

    CRASH!

    An enormous plume of dirt and debris exploded outwards as they slammed into the ground together. Trees already uprooted by the raging waves tumbled madly away from the impact, sending sodden branches and leaves flying into the storm. Their landing drew a deep gouge into the dirt, scattering specks of sodden grass onto the stone walkways nearby.

    The rain continued to fall as the dust began to settle, leaving behind two figures in the cratered remains of the waterside park.

    A steel boot clanked as it stomped into the mud. Her hair sodden by rain and her body soiled with dirt and debris, Velvet Crowe stood shakily before the fallen form of Maltran, who was breathing raggedly. The corrupted iris gem, having been dislodged from the hellion's body, lay on the ground before the advisor, who had taken the brunt of the fall.

    Beyond the stone ledge of the waterside park, the lake waters continued to recede – a precursor for yet another wave of devastating tsunamis. Fierce hurricane-level gales continued to scream all round them, the nearby stone walls of the park providing little to no protection against their wrath.

    "Why...?" Velvet's voice, tired, yet firm, rang out over the howl of the winds. She glanced around at the remains of the devastated park. "Honestly? I don't really know."

    Her face filled with exhaustion, Maltran glanced up at her from where she laid. "You... don't know?" she repeated slowly, disbelievingly.

    With slow, reverent movements, Velvet reached behind her and pulled out two pieces of a broken amber comb in the palm of her bandaged hand. The howling wind seemed to die down in her mind as she focused entirely on the broken item and what it represented for her. Her eyes had grown soft.

    "I still hate myself," she admitted softly. "I loathe the monster that I am."

    Her eyes turned upward, towards the stormy skies above Ladylake as the rain continued to fall. "You don't just forget about the sins you've committed after enough time has passed. They stick with you, hounding you, embedded in your very being," she said contemplatively. "When I betrayed the Shepherd and fought him, I knew that I wanted to die. I wanted a death fitting for a selfish person like me."

    Velvet's gaze fell and met Maltran's – the hellion who was so much like her. "...But in this world, nothing is set in stone. The roles we play in this life are up to nobody else but ourselves," she said softly.

    "That's the reason why, even if I don't know why, I'm here now." She shrugged, rain pattering off the broken comb in her hand. "I'm trying something new. That's all."

    In the distance, the roar of a dragon echoed out above the city, the beating of large wings approaching closer and closer towards the park. Thunder continued to rumble overhead, the harsh downpour drowning the city under an endless deluge. As the Shepherd and his followers arrived atop the dragon and bounded off the beast's back, Maltran began to laugh softly.

    "To think..." the hellionized advisor muttered, her lips upturning in a sardonic smile, "I would be brought down by such laughable sentiment."

    Maltran glanced up as the Shepherd came to Velvet's side and met the therion's eyes with a strange degree of respect. "...Go on," she said quietly, gesturing to the corrupted iris gem lying at their feet.

    Sorey met Velvet's gaze. She nodded in return.

    Together, the two of them stepped up to the purple-hued gem as the storm continued to rage around them, progressively consuming the capital of Hyland. They then disappeared in a flash of silver flames.

    ---​

    Sorey blinked in surprise as his vision cleared.

    He found himself standing in what appeared to be a snowy landscape of jagged cliffs and mountains. High up in the sky, the stars twinkled brightly amidst a cool night sky, watching him amidst the frigid cold. A breeze brushed past him causing his cloak to rustle, guided by the rough landscape with a trace of frozen moisture. There was not a single hint of malevolence to be found.

    "That's weird," Sorey said, his brow furrowing. "The other gems were filled with Maotelus's malevolence, but this one..." he trailed off in alarm as he realized that Velvet, who had entered the gem with him, was nowhere to be found.

    He was alone.

    Gathering his wits, the Shepherd surveyed his surroundings carefully and chose a direction to set off in, wary of any possible danger. The sound of scrunching snow and the whistling of the frigid wind was the only sound as he trudged through the dark night by himself. Only the faintest traces of life could be seen growing from cracks and crevices of rock sheltered by snow – flowers growing in stark defiance of the cold.

    After trudging through the snowy fields for a time, he came across a strange-looking door embedded into one of the walls of the mountain itself.

    Despite his love for ruins buzzing in the back of his mind, he focused on the task at hand and trudged up to the door. It opened on well-oiled hinges with a metallic clank to reveal a frozen tunnel within, illuminated by lit torches mounted into the walls. Shivering slightly, Sorey stepped inside, careful to keep an eye out for any signs of life.

    His boots crunched nosily on ice and snow as he emerged out the tunnel on the other side, his eyes widening at the sight that awaited him beyond.

    A harbor stood frozen in the cold, metal railings and posts jutting out from the snow, frozen over with icicles. Buildings dotted the area enclosed by sharp cliff faces, their doors and windows shut tightly against the wind. Lit streetlamps glowed warmly in the night, dotting the area in an eager fight against the encroaching shadows. In the brilliant turquoise waters beyond the harbor, the jagged form of frozen shipwrecks could be seen, jutting out from patches of ice like the skeletons of massive ancient beasts.

    A small figure stood at the end of the lone pier, waiting for him.

    Sorey blinked in surprise. After a moment, he let his hand fall from the pommel of his sword and stepped forward into the snow. His boots thumped on creaking wood as he stepped onto the wide pier, the figure watching him calmly and patiently as he approached.

    Under the shimmering light of a brilliant aurora illuminating the night sky above, Sorey stopped before the young boy with blonde hair, a curious expression on his face.

    The boy nodded in response to his unspoken question. "Hello, Sorey," he greeted. His voice had a bright and youthful tone, yet his demeanor bespoke care and reservation. "I'm glad to have this chance to speak with you."

    Sorey frowned, taking a closer look at the boy. A large metal band rested on his shoulders around his neck, a yellow jewel dangling from its center. He wore a white cloak adorned with blue colors. His green eyes were calm, his expression collected.

    And a telltale hint of malevolence seeped from his body, evaporating into the air around him.

    Sorey met the boy's eyes again. "You're Maotelus, aren't you?" he asked softly. "Heldalf mentioned these gems are linked to you."

    "That's right," the boy confirmed, habitually reaching with his hand to hold his other arm. "Heldalf... is distracted, right now," he said, glancing up towards the starry sky. The shimmering aurora reflected subtly in his calm eyes. "There are times, when he isn't focused on me, that my consciousness clears somewhat. That is why, right now, I can reach you through the Earthen Historia."

    The trails of malevolence continued to hover innocuously around his form, draping his pure white colors with tainted violet.

    "We'll take him down, Maotelus," Sorey said solemnly, holding a fist out before him resolutely. "Me and everyone else, including Velvet – we're all here to save you from him. I promise."

    At the sound of Velvet's name, Maotelus had taken on a distant look in his eyes. He turned and stepped to the side, facing outward towards the frozen ships and the darkened horizon beyond. After a moment, he tilted his head upwards towards the aurora above, a contemplative air about himself.

    "I have to ask, Shepherd Sorey." His words were accompanied by puffs of mist in the snowy air. "Do you know why it is that birds fly?"

    The familiar words rang in Sorey's ears. He paused, thinking for a moment under the shifting reflections of the aurora, before stepping forward. The frigid wood creaked under his boots as he came to a halt beside Maotelus, also staring up towards the skies. The two of them stood amidst the cold, watching as strange waves of motion ebbed and flowed over the ribbons of light above.

    "I think it's not up to me to say," Sorey said finally, the shimmering curtains of colors reflected in his eyes.

    The trials he had undergone through his journey – all the things he had seen and experienced – flashed in his mind in an instant. He nodded to himself after a moment, a calm and resolute determination steeling his voice.

    "I believe all beings in this world have the choice to choose their paths." He shook his head. "Why they choose to act the way they do... their reasons are something that only they know," he said softly. "That's what I think."

    By his side, Maotelus smiled gently. "...I see," the boy said, bobbing his head in understanding. "So that's your answer."

    Together, they stood there at the end of the pier, quietly watching the brilliant aurora above as it slid its way up and down the starry night sky.

    After a moment, Maotelus spoke once more. "I'm glad that you helped Velvet," he said, a wistful smile on his face. "I couldn't do anything else but watch helplessly through the Earthen Historia, but you found it in yourself to lend her a hand. One that she desperately needed. Thank you."

    Sorey shook his head. "Actually," he replied with a soft smile, "I think you might be underestimating her."

    Maotelus tilted his head boyishly at him. "How so?"

    The Shepherd crossed his arms with a shrug. "Just a hunch," he replied with a chuckle. "She has a pretty scary side, to be sure, and I'm sure a big part of her felt like she needed to atone for stuff she's done, but..." He shook his head, briefly unable to find how to describe his thoughts. "I... just got the sense that there's more to it than that, you know?"

    To his surprise, Maotelus burst into a fit of soft boyish laughter in response. "Haha, yeah, I could never truly figure her out either," he admitted with a nostalgic smile.

    Sorey tilted his head to the side. "Do you know where she is right now?" he asked. "I came into the iris gem with her but..."

    The boy nodded his head in understanding. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wanted to speak with you alone first, so I separated you guys. We can go see her now." With that, he lifted his left hand and concentrated.

    Sorey watched as the world around them began to wobble, the subject memory of the iris gem shifting and dissolving until it reformed into another from a different time.

    In this memory, he found them now surrounded by thin, tall trees decorated with vibrant yellow and orange autumn leaves. A gentle breeze blew through the area, rustling his clothing while simultaneously playing with a wind chime dangling from the roof of a nearby wooden house.

    There, in the front of the door to the home, stood Velvet clad in simple maroon clothing, her hair short and tied up into a ponytail. She was grinning brightly as she patted the head of someone standing beside her – a small boy, around the same height as Maotelus, ducking haughtily away from her hand.

    After a moment, she noticed the two of them standing there, her eyes widening slightly.

    Then, she turned and shooed the young boy back inside before stepping out to greet them in the tranquil yard in front of the house. Leaves fell softly, pattering onto the ground in a gentle rain of color as she came to a halt in front of them.

    She sighed, putting a hand on her hip with all the mannerisms that Sorey was familiar with, heedless of her dramatically different appearance.

    "I figured you were responsible for this," she said, aiming her words directly at Maotelus. She tossed a hand carelessly into the air. "What good does it do anyone to dredge up useless old memories like this, especially with what's going on?"

    Maotelus had a coy smile on his face. "I just thought that Sorey here would be interested in seeing this side of you, Velvet," he replied, shrugging his shoulders innocently. "That's all."

    "Uh huh," Velvet replied dryly. "I can see you're still the same little brat that you were back then." Contrary her words, emotion had begun to appear in her eyes as she took in the sight of boy standing before her.

    Maotelus smiled back up at her warmly.

    After a moment had passed, they both moved simultaneously towards each other. Velvet kneeled and embraced the boy tightly, a warm and unsteady breath escaping her as she did so. "We'll save you," she said softly, holding Maotelus tightly. "I promise, Phi."

    "I'm glad," Maotelus replied, his eyes closed as he held the therion in turn.

    After a moment, he gently separated from Velvet, who let him go and stood back up. He glanced at both Velvet and Sorey in turn, a serious expression on his face. "But I should tell you now," he said meaningfully, "Heldalf may not be the sort of person that you think he is."

    With a shake of her head, Velvet muttered, "Always the softie. Leave it to you to say something like that about the person who took you hostage."

    Maotelus shook his head, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. "Wouldn't be the first time," he pointed out impishly.

    Velvet blinked. Then irritation showed in her face. "You little..." she grumbled.

    Sorey, who had been watching the interaction between the two, smiled gently. He stayed silent, content to simply observe a side to his friend that he had previously only ever seen sporadic hints of.

    The world suddenly wavered yet again as Maotelus closed his eyes in concentration. All around them, the autumn colors of the strange, ancient village began to swirl away, replaced with brilliant hues of muted green and blue in the light of a blooming sunrise. Sorey glanced around curiously, finding himself in now-familiar terrain.

    The city of Ladylake perched atop Lake Perniya below the cliffs upon which they stood. Rolling hills and lush forests splayed out from their vantage point up in the Lakehaven Heights, filled with varied patches of trees and rough cliffsides. The sun was beginning to rise in the distance across the lake, basking the world in the crisp newborn light of a new day.

    In the light of dawn, Maotelus stepped forward towards the edge of the cliff, grass scrunching softly under his small boots. There, both he and Velvet, who had returned to her normal appearance, looked out into this new world together, a gentle breeze ruffling their clothing and hair.

    The light of the rising sun glinted in Maotelus's eyes as he looked outward, thoughtful. "It's all... very different, now, isn't it?" he asked gently.

    Velvet exhaled softly, looking out beyond the cliff with her arms hanging by her sides. Memories from long ago erupted all at once. Faces, once blurry from misuse, suddenly materialized in her mind as clear as day. Fragments of a time long past, indistinct in form yet sharp in hue, made up a mosaic of emotion that tinted her every thought.

    Yet she found small smile forming on her lips.

    "I think it's a little silly," she admitted, the wind playing with her long raven hair. She glanced at Maotelus, her smile widening as she contemplated this strange, new, and foreign world. "But... I find myself wanting to move forward, now," she said softly.

    Maotelus shook his head. "I don't think it's silly," he replied brightly. "I'm glad."

    He glanced over his shoulder at Sorey, standing at a distance and allowing the two to share a moment together, before meeting Velvet's eyes again with a kind expression. "I really am," he promised.

    In the distance, a slow, purple haze began to creep into existence, forming around the corners of the memory and seeping in to taint the environment. Gradually, tendrils of malevolence began to slide closer and closer, slowly blotting out the brilliant light of the rising sun behind a tint of violet.

    Maotelus turned to the two of them as Sorey stepped up, a somber expression on his face. "It's time to say goodbye for now, Velvet, Sorey," he said gently, taking a step back away from them as the sea of malevolence began to return. "I'm looking forward to seeing you both again."

    Velvet's eyes were hard, yet she made no effort to stop him. Instead, she nodded curtly, a reaffirmed determination clear in her stance.

    "Goodbye, Phi," she said tenderly. "We'll see you soon."

    With a final nod in response, the fifth Empyrean closed his eyes and began to fade away, his form retreating from the memory itself. In the wake of his departure, a dull thrum echoed throughout the surrounding world, marking the collapse of the corrupted gem. Colors slowly began to swirl together, meshing into nothingness. A dull white began to overtake everything, halting the encroaching malevolence in its tracks.

    Velvet and Sorey met each other's gazes and nodded resolutely in the wake of their interaction with Maotelus. Then, together, the former Lord of Calamity and the Holy Shepherd turned and faced the approaching dawn rising amidst a curious mix of light and malevolence.

    Despite herself, Velvet found that she herself was content.

    Regardless of the trails that they were sure to face soon, there were no lingering doubts in her mind anymore. No more questions regarding what needed to be done. No more gaping wounds that needed to be ignored.

    She felt no need to expel malevolence anymore.
     
  8. Threadmarks: C30 - Epilogue
    CloudFry

    CloudFry Making the rounds.

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    Epilogue.

    Sorey wondered how in the world things had ended up this way.

    He shook his head in pure disbelief, trying his best to rack his brain and connect the dots as to how it had gotten to this point. Yet regardless, no matter how much his mind reassured him that this was, in fact, real, and not some sort of twisted dream, he found that he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. It just didn't make any sense at all.

    "If you just keep standing there like that," came Velvet's dry voice from behind him, "you're likely going to keel over in shock."

    Blinking, Sorey turned from the full body-length mirror to find the therion standing at the door to his room, an amused expression on her face. It took him a second to recognize her – she was dressed in a flowing, dark crimson dress with black accents that perfectly accompanied her neatly combed raven hair hanging behind her.

    She interpreted his look correctly with a roll of her eyes. "Look," she said at length, waving a hand wrapped in a smooth silk glove, "I'm not exactly comfortable about all this either, okay?" she sighed. "Blame Sergei and Alisha for their scheming if you'd like."

    "Ahah," Sorey chuckled sheepishly, scratching at his cheek with an index finger. "Sorry. I just think this is all a little bit nuts."

    Velvet's heels clicked on the polished marble flooring as she walked into the room with a slight awkwardness about her steps, her dress and hair flowing behind her as she did so. "Things are different now," she said as she carefully crossed over to where he was standing, disdainfully glancing at herself in the mirror that he'd been using. "Nowadays things are less about fighting hellions and more about keeping humans from fighting each other."

    "I'm not sure I really signed up for that, you know," Sorey remarked wryly, absently fiddling with his collar. "It's a lot to take in." He frowned in irritation. "And are these clothes really necessary?" he grumbled as his collar failed to succumb to his demands.

    An exasperated, familiar voice came through the open doorway. "We've been through this like, a dozen times already, Sorey."

    The two of them looked over to find Alisha and Rose entering the room as well and walking towards them, both dressed in brilliantly accented dresses befitting the squires of the Shepherd. Unlike Velvet and Sorey, they seemed perfectly at ease in their clothing.

    Rose, the one who had spoken, placed her gloved hands on her hips and frowned at Sorey. "If you really want to do this properly, then you've gotta do this right!" She chopped her hand into the palm of her other for emphasis. "Nobody in their right mind's gonna take you seriously if you show up wearing that dusty old cloak to the ceremony."

    "It's a cultural relic from tradition!" Sorey protest unhappily. "Besides, I'm only doing this temporarily – people should understand that, right? So, there's really no need for all..." he gestured weakly at the immaculate clothing he was wearing.

    Alisha shook her head sympathetically, although traces of amusement were evident in her expression. "Royal clothing is a symbol of power, Sorey," she said placatingly. "For the people, it sends a message of dedication – one could call it a necessary symbol to preserve the peace. I understand this is all very uncomfortable for you, but I promise you, it shall be worthwhile."

    The Shepherd wilted a little at her words, his hands slowing in his attempts to right his collar. "Yeah," he said in resignation. "Alright." With his surrender, he returned to his efforts to right his clothing with a renewed fervor.

    Velvet's eye twitched.

    "That's enough," she growled dangerously, stepping up to him and irritably batting away his hands. "Stay still, unless you want me to eat you."

    "A-Ah, sure," Sorey chuckled nervously, his throat perilously close to danger as the hellion undid his horribly clumsy attempts at adjusting his clothing. "Th-thanks Velvet," he said, swallowing.

    "What did I say about staying still?" she growled dangerously, causing him to freeze and zip his mouth shut.

    Behind them, Alisha and Rose seemed to be close to tears in a silent laughing fit.

    "Well, this sure is a sight to behold."

    Yet again, more visitors to Sorey's room arrived through the doorway. The others turned and found four seraphim – Mikleo, Edna, Dezel, and Lailah – stepping through the tall doors and into the luxurious royal chamber.

    Mikleo continued thoughtfully, raising a fist to his chin, "Never thought I'd see a day where Sorey looked as pampered as a human prince. I hardly even recognize him with all that combed hair."

    Sorey glared in annoyance at him but couldn't do much else given the threat of the dangerous hellion still working away at his clothing.

    Sensing weakness, Edna tilted her head with a vindictive fanged smile. "Since he's so strong and powerful now," she supposed smugly, "he should probably arrange for the cooks to accommodate his holy seraphim."

    Lailah seemed to catch onto her wavelength in an instant. She clapped her hands together brightly. "Indeed," she agreed brightly. "Extra-large, extra-special helpings of vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate pudding for everyone please!"

    Rose put a hand on her hip. "Don't forget the strawberry tarts," she added smoothly. "I don't think we ever let him off the hook for failing the Shepherd's trial back then."

    Velvet gave them all a look over her shoulder. "What's this about pudding?" she asked dryly.

    Dezel sighed, resting a hand on his top hat as he looked away, out the wide windows of the suite towards the sprawling city beyond. "How in the world did things end up this way?" he muttered.

    "That's what I was thinking," Sorey exhaled in exhaustion as Velvet, finally satisfied with her work, released him from her grasp.

    A sharp knock at the open doorway abruptly drew their attention. Humans and seraphim turned as one to find Sergei and Leo standing in the doorway, dressed in cleanly polished armor of the Platinum Knights.

    Leo blinked as he took in their appearances, in particular doing a double take as he found Velvet standing there in a dress wearing high heels. His jaw dropped open.

    The therion pre-empted him with a glare. "Not one word," she growled, the emphasis on her words seeming to drop the temperature of the room by a few degrees.

    Leo gave her a reproachful look. "I haven't even said anything!" he yelled defensively. She just rolled her eyes in response.

    Sergei cleared his throat, ignoring his companion. "Shepherd Sorey?" he prompted, drawing his attention. "It's time."

    With those words, the nerves and uncertainty seemed to return to his body all in one sharp instant. His back straightened, and he nodded determinedly. As the rest of his followers turned to him, he gave them all a thankful inclination of his head before stepping forward on unsteady legs to where Sergei waited.

    It felt like ages, but eventually, he followed Sergei to a set of carpeted steps leading upward towards an open archway. Beyond, a bright blue sky dotted with intermittent clouds shone through, pushing bright sunlight through the arch and into the comparatively dark stairway within.

    Sergei gently rested an armored hand upon his shoulder, giving him a respectful nod. "I thank you for this, Shepherd Sorey," the captain said genuinely. "I swear to you, we will right this world yet with your actions today."

    Sorey smiled back at him, albeit shakily, as he lifted his hand from his shoulder. Then, without further ado, he forced himself to start walking up the steps towards the light above.

    Warm sunlight washed over his face as he stepped out into the open air, accompanied by an enormous wave of noise and energy. It took him a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the light and take in the scene before him.

    The nation of Pendrago laid at his feet.

    There he stood atop a tall platform overlooking a grand square filled to the brim with a countless amount of people. They cheered his appearance raucously, some starting up a chant while others hollered and whooped. The stamping of feet and the crying of his name and title echoed loudly off the tall stone walls encompassing the area.

    The sun blazed high in the sky above it all, shining brightly upon the capital. A cote of doves took flight amidst the noise of the crowd, flapping together higher and higher away from the great castle of Pendrago.

    There, upon one of the great walls of the square opposite Sorey, laid a massive full-grown dragon for all to see. Eizen's eyes were keen and intelligent as he watched the crowd and the proceedings. On a nearby balcony, he spotted the familiar colors of Velvet, Rose, and Alisha's dresses from where they were seated accompanied by the seraphim. He drew strength from their familiar presences in the face of the enormous foreign crowd.

    On the platform on which he stood, a multitude of unfamiliar officials stood to attention on the sides of the aisle. He noted that the people standing to his left were dressed purposefully in a brilliant blue, whereas those on the right wore crimson red. Summoning his wits, he forced himself to give them all a polite nod and allow them to be seated before stepping forward, onto the main section of the platform with the greatest visibility to the entire crowd below.

    Recognizing the signal that he'd learned from the rehearsal, Sorey then raised his left hand, wrapped in an elegant glove emblazoned with the sigil of the Shepherd, into the sky. And like magic, the raucous crowd fell into an immediate, reverent hush. Sorey's teeth grit as he hardened himself, forcing himself to do what needed to be done.

    "Citizens of Hyland and Rolance," an announcer called from somewhere. "I have the great honor of presenting to you today, the very savior of both our nations."

    A bated breath seemed to fall upon the crowd at the man's words.

    "He is the foretold who shall lead us all to unity. The one who will break down the barriers between our rival nations and bring in a new, unprecedented era of peace and prosperity."

    Sorey curled his fists at his side, forcing himself to keep his back straight.

    "He hails from the legends of yore! A man who commands both Holy Seraphim and Hellion – a tamer of dragons, a sword to cut through malevolence, and the one who shall lead us to victory against the fearsome Lord of Calamity!"

    Sitting quietly as she listened to the speech, Velvet looked on with hard eyes, a different speech from a very different time seeming to echo in her ears with each word.

    "May I present to you, good people of both Rolance and Hyland," the announcer bellowed loudly, his words echoing throughout the square. "The new King Claudin of our era – King Regent Sorey!"

    The crowd exploded in an almighty burst of cries and cheers, rattling the very stones underneath. All celebrated the man who had brought peace back to their lands – the one who held the truth of the world.

    Velvet's lips were drawn into a thin line.

    Above it all, Sorey gritted his teeth and bore it all without complaint.

    ---​

    "K-King... Regent?" Sorey stammered, utterly dumbfounded at the words that had come out of Sergei's mouth. He turned and looked around, unfortunately finding nobody else in the small room but himself, Sergei, and Alisha. He turned back to the captain weakly. "You're kidding, right, Sergei?" he asked.

    The captain shook his head ponderously. "Be that I wish I was, I am not," he said with a sigh, crossing his armored arms.

    The clacking of horse-drawn carriages rolling on cobblestone sounded through the walls from outside the small inn room in the shocked silence that followed.

    The captain exhaled again, speaking in what was likely a rehearsed manner. "The Platinum Knights have driven out all the hellions from the capital, but the emperor was slain at Heldalf's hand, and there is no clear line of succession. The Knights can only do so much when the public is clamoring for a leader in such dark times."

    Sorey gritted his teeth, looking away. "...And we still don't have the slightest idea of where Heldalf is now, huh?" he asked, fatigue appearing faintly in his expression.

    He fisted his hands together. "The more I think about, the more I realize that the attacks on Rolance and Hyland were likely a distraction of sorts." He shook his head tiredly. "And I have no idea what. It's frustrating and worrying."

    Alisha and Sergei exchanged a glance at his words.

    Sergei then nodded slowly. "Regardless of his plans," he said, "Heldalf is much more likely to face resistance if the countries of mankind can put up a united front. It does nobody any good for the countries of Glenwood to fall to pieces. I believe it is a worthwhile endeavor to pursue, at the same time while we gain more information upon Heldalf's motives and whereabouts."

    "But... me?" Sorey asked with a strangled voice.

    "The masses are all aware of you," Sergei said firmly. "In truth, they adore you, fanatically, even. Everyone is aware that if it were not for you, their existences would still be in turmoil. Out of gratefulness and adoration, you would be welcomed with open arms and bring in stability that is desperately, perilously needed at this very moment."

    The captain took a step forward, pressing his point. "Furthermore, anyone who is qualified for Emperor is slaughtered, in hiding, or plain out of favor with the general public," he continued mercilessly, shaking his head. "We've pondered this matter long and hard, Sorey. We wouldn't suggest you take up such a heavy burden unless we were absolutely certain it was the only choice available to us."

    Sorey wilted at that, hanging his head and agreeing, "...I believe you." After a moment of heavy consideration, he asked quietly, "It would... only be for a little bit, right?"

    Alisha chose this moment to step up as well, a sad yet determined look on her face as she said, "Actually, Sorey, it would be more than the acting king of just Rolance." When he turned an incredulous look onto her, she admitted, "Captain Sergei and I have discussed this at length. With the death of the chancellors at my master's hands, Hyland is at the brink of collapse as well."

    She shook her head, meeting Sorey's eyes firmly. "This may be our only and greatest chance to unify the two countries, even if only temporarily, and prevent more conflict from taking place in the near future." She held her hand into a fist. "Despite how I wish I could help," she said solemnly, "I believe our best solution at this moment truly is to seek for one unified country, between both Rolance and Hyland. And the only thing that will allow that to happen is through the joint adoration by the masses of the Shepherd."

    "It is a future that our offspring could once only dream of," Sergei said soberly, shaking his head. "A dream of united stability bolstering the progress of mankind rather than squandering it over petty squabbles."

    Sorey listened to their words with a subdued atmosphere, the astonishment and the denial slowly making way for a resigned acceptance of the validity of their words.

    Alisha stepped forward, gently resting a hand on his arm and guiding his attention to her. "...That said," she said quietly, "it is your choice and yours alone, Sorey. We will not pressure you any further than this. Please, take your time, and consider it well."

    Sorey nodded slowly, a thankful smile appearing on his otherwise conflicted expression. "...Alright," he said. "Thanks, Alisha."

    The two of them gave him respectful nods before leaving him alone with his thoughts. There, in the silence of the isolated room, Sorey gritted his teeth.

    ---​

    And so, months passed after the crowning of the King Regent.

    ---​

    "Agh!"

    Sorey let out a yelp as he was deposited roughly onto the ground, rolling over himself in the dirt before coming to a rough halt. Blinking rapidly, the first thing he registered was the coarse grass of the Pearloats Pasture under his palms. Pushing the disorientation aside with a vigorous mental effort, the King Regent forced himself to recall what had happened as the world around him stopped spinning.

    He and the group had been all over Rolance and Hyland in the past few months, stabilizing the tense political situation and searching for signs of Heldalf across the continent. It always seemed to be one thing after another, and he had never managed find a moment to himself.

    The members of his former group of followers had been split up by necessity, with seraphim and humans headed to different corners of the continent to maintain different aspects of the many matters that fell upon a King Regent seeking to end an Age of Chaos. It had been one thing after another until one night...

    He'd been kidnapped in his sleep.

    Sorey moaned blearily, a stroke of petulant childishness pushing through the discipline pounded into him in the past few months as he sat up and glared at the masked and cloaked figure standing across the field watching him emotionlessly.

    "Velvet," he groaned, rubbing the shoulder where he'd landed, "What in the world are you doing?"

    He only had a few fractions of a second to yelp and yank his sword up from where it laid in the dirt beside him to parry the therion's as she slashed her sword towards his head. Metal met metal in a loud, rough clang that send a violent tremor down his arm.

    "Velvet!" he cried in alarm as he stumbled to his feet, just in time to frantically dive to the side in a roll as her enormous hellion claw tore through the air where he'd been. "Ack!" With muscle memory driving his movements, he spun to his feet and quickly snapped up his arm, unleashing a quick burst of mana out of his palm towards the woman.

    The clawed hellion leapt backwards in a graceful backflip, dodging the blow while simultaneously angling herself for a leap forward. Sorey recognized the move acutely, having seen it many times before. His body moved as if of its own accord as he charged forward, raising his sword and swinging precisely towards where he knew her hidden boot blade would slash.

    CLANG!

    Their blades slammed together with a brief but vibrant exchange of sparks in the cool summer night amidst the Pearloats Pasture.

    They danced alone amidst the field of dead crops, their blades meeting with irregular musical clangs punctuated by the burst of mana or the detonation of flame. The city of Pendrago stood in the far distance beyond the hills, silent and forgotten as the battled together. High up above, the full moon shone brightly.

    They abruptly disengaged, the two of them leaping back from each other and coming to a halt a few paces away from their opponent.

    Sweating, breathing hard in the cold night air with his veins surging with adrenaline, Sorey was shocked to find that a wide grin had somehow crept up into his expression. He let out a soft laugh, belatedly recognizing old feelings that had been so alien to him for the past few months. Memories of travel, of friendship, of laughter. His heart felt warm in his chest.

    No matter what happened, he realized solemnly, it would be okay.

    His smile grew, and he readied his stance, clearly signaling his intent to his opponent. Across from him, the masked hellion that he knew as Velvet Crowe did the same with her claw, preparing herself under the light of the full moon.

    A moment of silence passed.

    And then the two opposing entities sprang into motion like clockwork, charging at each other underneath the curtain of stars.

    ---​

    Afterword:

    This is the end of the Wolf in Sheep's Clothing.

    While there are loose ends, I realized during my little hiatus (understatement) that I didn't set out to rewrite Zestiria, but rather to tell the story of Velvet and Sorey. I believe it is best to leave things here, giving some closure for many years in progress.

    Thank you all for joining me on this journey. I've truly appreciated every last moment that I've spent with you awesome folks.

    It's been a pleasure – take care.

    - CloudFry, January 1st, 2023
     
  9. Orannis

    Orannis I trust you know where the happy button is?

    Joined:
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    Thank you for posting this story it was a great read.
     
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