Dare to Accomplish Wonders [Isekai Quest] <Birdsie Quest>

Lazara froze in her spot.

In a flash - literal and figurative - her life could be over.

Fear gripped at her heart, even as adrenaline began to course through her veins, going into her brain and encoding it with the primal fear of death. She was never this afraid in her life. Every part of her told her to run, or scream in some fatuous hope that someone would save her; every part save one.

Reflect.

"I am the mirror; your light is my light!" she screamed out, face still contorted in terror, scattering two lungfuls of air in a hasty panic. She didn't know where the incantation came from. She just knew what to say in that moment, like there was a nebulous voice in her soul whispering what to do.

Guide.

She felt space twist. With her enhanced sight, she espied a slight distortion in the air. Translucent, shaped like a panel.

Father-- no. No, not her father. Her Adversary watched her impassively and fired the photon missile, not having enough time himself to react to her spell. The time gap was too small for even him to process that.

To her surprise, the shield reflected the light, but not in the way she'd aimed for. Instead of deflecting it at an angle, like a ball might bounce off a wall, it was more like someone threw a water balloon at a hard surface and the water exploded away from the point of impact, in the opposite direction.

The light scattered everywhere, strands and lasers; the whiteness was lost as it became less of a stable emission and more of an ambient mist that lasted for less than an eyeblink. There was a loud bang - not as loud as to be deafening; not an explosion, but loud nonetheless. Like a cask of wine being popped open with a forceful pull.

The shield collapsed.

Lazara took a good look at the hallway. The walls and floors were discolored; there was a cone of charred flooring spreading outwards in her father's direction where the shield would have been. Everything else was only lightly darkened and had pinprick holes in them. A foul smell filled the air: that of carpentry and acrid ammonia.

Her father was bleeding, as small holes freckled his garb; red color staining his skin and clothing. None got his eyes, which were staring her down hatefully, but his face had a smattering of crimson points on it, tinier lines of red flowing from them slowly.

The shield definitely didn't react how she'd expected it to, but there wasn't time to deliberate on that.

She got up from where she fell on the ground - only now actually noticing she fell. She stumbled as she moved back, chanting again, "My light is my own; my absence is shadow!"

Another improvised incantation, but it worked. Barely. She could almost feel her soul hesitate to go through with her intent; probably because she wasn't as scared anymore, just in shock.

The hallway darkened to pitch, the flow of light from the windows and lamps disappearing. And yet, she heard the footsteps behind her.

Lazara didn't look back; she saw along the walls and floor as they lit up with a dim white glow. Light from behind her.

She rapidly used the same incantation from earlier to make a shield, but it was weaker than her previous one, and Adversary fired this missile sooner.

Both the attack and the defense were weaker, but she felt the shield crack and some heat sear her back. Lazara shrieked and turned the corner.

"HELP!" she screamed, and made a tentative look back. Adversary was running after her, just having turned the corner. He lifted his arm and charged a missile for barely half a second before firing it off. Lazara didn't have time to make a shield, but the running made his aim faulty and he hit the floor in front of her.

She entered her room and slammed the door shut with a bang. She moved to barricade it with a wardrobe, but was too weak, grunting with each move of her feet even though the wardrobe adamantly refused to move from where it was rooted to the floor.

"Wind, answer my plea and grant me dominion!" she said, quickly but coherently. The wardrobe yielded to her advance and moved into place just in time for her to feel the door hit its back.

Lazara ran to the bathroom, closed the door and locked it, then put on her Enlightening Glasses. She could still hear the thumping on the door for a few seconds, before it stopped.

She focused on the glasses, on her vision, and saw her father highlighted in red, through the walls.

He moved back, away from her room, all the way to the opposite wall in the hallway. He raised his hand and splayed his fingers. Lazara's eyes widened in realization, as she moved closer to the bathroom entrance in Timory's room - who wasn't present there, of all the damn times he could have made himself useful.

Not three seconds passed before she heard the sound of a bottle cap being popped off, followed by the distinctive creaking of wood being demolished and splintered. These sounds were followed by a foul curse in an unknown language and another similar set of popping sounds. After that, the door to her room, as well as the wardrobe, fell down with a thundering thud and a crack.

She quietly retreated to her brother's room, while Adversary - instead of checking under her bed - charged up a massive bolt of light, far bigger than any so far, and literally fried it. She could smell the smoke from here, alongside another loud bang; this one closer to gunpowder exploding than a bottle cap.

She re-aligned her lenses to look at her bed and saw it was in shambles. Just wood and cloth, burning up in a massive pile of fire, which was spreading faster than fire should have.

Adversary made several motions, causing the rubble to fall apart with a telekinetic division, and he scowled with a sneer when he saw her corpse wasn't there.

He headed for the bathroom, while she quietly slinked out of Timory's room, and was back in the hallway.

Lazara took off her glasses and looked to her right; the door to her room was demolished and laid on the ground, inside. It had a large hole in it, spreading to a smaller hole in the back of her wardrobe, where some of the clothes were on fire. Apparently, this was the result of his initial strike, and then he decided to take out the hinges with two, less powerful but more precise blasts, with a final, explosive blast to push everything inwards.

She gulped, her heart racing as she began to get her thoughts in order.

He was being possessed, so she had to find Sylvester. He was the priority.

Lazara put on her Enlightening Glasses again. She was expecting her father was about to blow up Timory's bed, so she stole a glance behind her; almost having a heart attack. Her father stood behind the door, just a meter away from her, grinning sadistically and looking straight at her.

Before she could react, the door was blasted off and she was thrown into the opposite wall. The door smashed into her face and nose foremost; it wasn't as painful as she expected, but it filled the space behind her nose with a kind of... raw feeling, for a lack of a better term. She supposed it must have been the sensation of crushed arteries and internal bleeding.

Thankfully, her glasses weren't damaged, having been constructed too sturdily, but they clattered to the ground.

Lazara screamed in pain as she fell to the ground (or rather, the door below her,) and looked up, using her elbows and knees for support.

The Adversary stood there, in the doorway. A coruscant aura of light danced in the eyes of his vessel, and spread out in thin lines onto his cheeks and body, healing the wounds she'd created by deflecting his own light at him. His grin was like a wild animal, and he sauntered out of Timory's room, his arms flowing with swagger.

Lazara grunted, more in anger than pain or fear this time. She forced herself to stand, snatching her glasses as she ran downstairs with all the speed her legs offered her. She was followed down by a pair of light bolts, one grazing her buttocks, the other missing and hitting the stairs.

In fact, she didn't bother with the fucking stairs, leaping over the balustrade and aiming for the couch in the small alcove-like parlor in the entrance hall.

Lazara landed on it with most of her body, albeit rather painfully; only her right side and head sticking over the edge.

Also, to the surprise of the butler who was having tea and crumpets on a couch opposite of the one she landed on. She didn't wait, didn't explain, just rolled off the bed, yelling, "GO FIND SYLVESTER! DAD'S POSSESSED!"

The butler was confused, standing up. He looked like he was about to ask questions, but Lazara got up from the ground and ran for the doors, which were damnably closed.

She didn't notice or project the fact that Adversary was standing on the stairs, with his hand aimed at the very doors she was moving towards, already having amassed a considerable amount of light.

Lazara reached for the handle with her hand, and then flinched when she heard the discharge. Almost instinctively, a shield formed around her. Too little, too weak.

Her world became pain.

Everything was pain.

There were no more concerns about the Adversary chasing her, or about finding Sylvester. Only pain, as she was on fire and in pain. Pain and agony. Pain and anguish.

If pain were to be compared to some kind of liquid, then what just happened was that someone took a high-pressure hose and washed her down with it, and not deeming it satisfactory, threw her into a vat full of it for a day or two, for her to get all wet.

Ringing in the ears, and vertigo were the least of her concerns. Between the pain and fear, she didn't know what happened to her body.

She was pretty sure she felt something scrape against her chest and her back a few times; felt her limbs moving due to some unknown and sudden force, but she had no idea where she was and why. Her brain could only think about pain, fear, and anger; hate for the thing that caused this.

Lazara opened her eyes and stood up, only to fall over again, but hold herself up with one hand. Every part of her body that was previously uncovered had bruises, burns, or lacerations, and much of her clothing was blackened and torn open.

She felt dizzy and couldn't get up, so she knelt instead for a moment. To breathe.

And then she threw up all over the floor and, partly, on her knees and chest.

Her heart was beating like it was about to fall out of her chest, and she felt sick in her stomach, like a demon was about to bust out of her gut.

She looked left and right to orientate herself and saw that she was outside, several steps outside the door. She was surrounded by rubble, some of it scorched, and broken remnants of the mansion's front door. The hedges around her were on fire, and the stairs leading up to the entrance were cracked.

Inside the mansion, in the parlor, Lazara saw Lord Lightbrook.

The glow on his body had already spread across his torso and was making progress up to his forearms. He stood over the burnt body of what she presumed was the butler previously, but was now a clump of charcoal in a vaguely humanoid shape, still burning. He gave the side of the corpse a light kick, then chuckled.

How the hell did I survive that? she asked herself.

The Adversary was occupied watching the butler's corpse burn, but she knew this wouldn't stay that way. Where were her glasses? The last time she saw them, they were in her hands, but she couldn't find them anywhere.

She heard a sound far away, metal on stone. Repetitive. Rhythmical, but fast. Armored feet? The guards?

Lazara felt the bile rise to the midsection of her throat before she forced it back down. She breathed for several long moments; long breaths, yet choppy and dull, through clenched teeth. She was afraid if she made a full, quick breath, she'd vomit or go into a coughing spree.

What now?

[] Write-in!


It's 24th Goldleaf, 1310, in the late evening, roughly 19:33.

You are currently outside Lightbrook Manor, on the destroyed entrance, between the Manor and the main courtyard.

You are exhausted, scared, in shock, probably have a concussion, are bleeding, and you're suffering from massive vertigo; any attempts at standing up will automatically result in immediately falling over and possibly injuring yourself. If you want to move, crawling or the like is recommended, though it may cause further infections/wounding, especially now that you've puked all over yourself and have open bodily lacerations everywhere. You also have bruising and probably some extent of internal damage, but have no method of checking that; you're in too much pain to detect bruising by poking it, and don't have any devices to check out the inside of your body.

You would have been worse, mind you; not too indifferent from the butler, but you managed to manifest a reflective shield (one closer to the second one you cast, rather than the first,) in the last second through sheer fear and pain.

You have no idea how much it took for you to come to after his last attack, but I'll tell you it was less than a minute.

Adversary is currently occupied wrapping up the fun he had baking the innocent and elderly butler, and will likely turn his attention to finishing you off in seconds from now, after confirming he cannot consume souls on this sacred ground.

It is unfortunate that most of the downstairs staff heard that last explosion and are probably en route to see what the hell happened, as this means they are next on the frying list.

In the distance, you can hear the sound of armored feet running in your direction - the guards must have heard the commotion and are running in to help, but it's doubtful they'll make it in time, and if they do - can they really take on the Adversary? You do not see Timory, Belladonna, Matrim, or Sylvester anywhere, but that may be in part due to your impaired perception. Right now, your mind and perceptiveness are about as effective as those of a heavily drunk, concussed person, after all.

You cannot find your Enlightening Glasses anywhere.

You hear something rustling in the bushes behind you, maybe whispering. What could that be?

Quasi-accurate map:

No supplementary actions can be taken right now.

Lazara's ears were ringing, and she felt dizzy just moving her head. Without blinking constantly, the world seemed to be a giant abstract painting built with smudges. The Adversary was still laughing over the butler's corpse. She didn't hear anything else, except some rustling, wind, the metallic footsteps far away, and...

Whispering; distant yet close, repetitive, rhythmical. The same, familiar, leveled pitch and timbre.

"...Ild... e... se..."

Not in my head? No. She approached one of the bushes, or rather, dragged her arms and neared it. She felt a pressure on her body slightly go away, which she now recognized as the ambient and searing sensation of heat.

Lazara took one look back and realized everything was on fire. She cursed, then finished the drag.

"Father is possessed," she spat out. Or at least, a sentence similar enough. Her mind felt like it was hit with a baseball bat, so it was hard to tell what she actually said. "Help."

She grabbed the snake near its head, uncaring of the possibility of being bit. Even if she was, it's not like the situation could get any worse.

The snake had very smooth scaling; she'd take a moment to appreciate it, were it not for the life-or-death situation. Its scales had white coloring, and its eyes were big, red orbs.

Teacher, it's you! She eagerly wrapped Snake-in-the-Reeds around her neck and felt a trickle of energy run through her spine. Instantly, her legs were taken away from her by someone else, and she began running forward, in the direction of the inner courtyard.

"We... ave... o... et... out of... ere..." she heard his intermittent words, more distinctly now.

She wanted to recite prayers. Maybe the Gods would help, but she couldn't remember any right now. It was hard to think, hard to remember.

Wait, I remember one!

For once, she felt thankful to Sylvester, for drilling this lesson into her brain.

She began to pray to the God of Protection, Order, and Safety, "Paladine, your faithful servant, begging for your attention in this time of need, asks you to give her a boon of safety..."

As they turned the corner, the wall of the mansion broke with a flash. Stones of debris and large brickwork scattered in front of them, alongside fire and black smoke. The bang was loud, but drowned out, at least for Lazara. Almost instantly, her feet took her back, even as she heard a bark of laughter come from the hole in the wall.

She bumped into someone with her back and turned, relieved when she saw Otho and Enoon, the two guards.

"Father is possessed, don't fight him," she said, without any filters of emotion in her speech, though she probably sounded scared. She then turned back to see Lord Lightbrook, who stood in the hole in the wall he blew out. He was looking away, but scanning in their direction.

When he saw the four of them, a bestial grin formed on his face.

"Crap," Lazara said, then began running backward under Snake's control. The two guards weren't long after.

Lazara turned the corner with a stumble, just as a massive explosion threw her forward again, at an oblique angle. She felt several pieces of rubble impact her back like bullets, one of them hitting the back of her head and causing blood to spurt out like a geyser. She landed with half of her body in a hedge, silently grateful to the universe for its place in cushioning her.

Snake didn't waste time, wresting control of her legs and standing up. He started running in the direction of the other courtyard entrance, from where they could get to the exit. He knew that hiding in this situation wasn't plausible.

As they ran, Lazara saw the guards standing up and scattering in opposite directions. A blast of light engulfed the space between them, throwing Otto in her direction and into an outside storehouse. Fortunately, he hit the window, not a wall, but just barely. She imagined he still had broken bones.

She began to mutter incantations under her breath, channeling and holding the light in her mind, slowly making a mass of photons. She held it in her right arm, making it float around her, a centimeter away from her skin.

A wall on the other side of the mansion blew open just moments before Snake and Lazara reached the courtyard entrance, and Lightbrook levitated out, carried on a wave of broken matter suspended in motes of solid light.

She was dead sure her father could never do anything like that.

His body was almost entirely covered in light in hues of orange, yellow, white, and dark blue; his head was like a star, shining at them brightly, to the point where Lazara could barely make out the grin behind it. His arms were folded in a posture that lacked any form of impression from their actions thus far; like a dark prince looking at cattle to be slaughtered.

Snake stopped her body from moving, reconsidering what direction to move in.

She whispered the incantation, "I love my father, and he loves me. I love light, and so does he. Through love, through light, may we be safe from the likes of you."

Lazara raised her hand groggily, barely pushing her muscles to point at him, even as pink light gathered in it. The arm-thick beam of pink hit him squarely in the chest.

Adversary's grin vanished as he looked down at where it hit him.

That was enough of a distraction for Snake to run under him and in the direction of the exit.

Because the beam itself didn't do anything.

Lazara was prepared for the next time that Adversary threw a blast, already incanting a shield spell. A reflective barrier manifested behind them, invisible. Then another; a second layer. She began incanting for a third, but didn't have the time.

The blast of white and grey impacted her defense, propelling them forward and breaking one of Lazara's ribs as her chest thumped against the ground. They were thrown to the earth, next to the entrance of the castle's inner courtyard. Lazara pushed herself up, helped a little by Snake, and they were rested against the wall with their back.

Lazara's eyes hinged up, begging to close and rest already.

Adversary hovered there, impassively, charging up another blast of light.

Instead, a figure in silvery armor jumped on top of him from behind, wrapping his arms around his neck and wrestling to get him off of the platform he was flying on.

Lazara's eyes began to close, but some force from the outside kept them open forcefully. Kept them working, even as things struggled to become blurry.

Snake? she asked, moving her lips, even though no words left. Her throat felt dry.

She heard him respond, much more clearly and closely now, "It's fine, child. Don't fight, just rest; our reinforcements have arrived. I am taking care of your body, closing wounds, keeping your heart beating. You'd be dead by now, otherwise."

Everything began to turn blurry, then clear again, as she saw a bunch of people surround Adversary.

Matrim and Timory were trying to throw him off the platform by jumping onto it and pushing and pulling respectively, while Belladonna and Sylvester were casting some kind of spellwork. Support spells and exorcisms?

Sylvester looked like he was getting a headache from trying whatever he was trying, so he was probably trying to exorcise father.

Finally, Adversary was pushed off, landing on Timory as the two hit the ground.

Matrim hopped off the collapsing platform, then moved to restrict his arms, but before he could, the coruscant aura of light that was surrounding Lord Lightbrook until that point exploded outwards in every direction, power surging through the air.

Everyone was flung away like a ragdoll, scattered like dust.

Belladonna got up, then started incanting a spell. Before she was finished, a bolt of light impacted her stomach. She kept incanting, ignoring the pain.

Matrim stood up next and ran behind Adversary to drag the wounded Timory away from the fight.

A group of heavily armored men ran into the yard, bearing halberds and shields.

One of them approached Lazara and Snake, lying his hand on her shoulder. A warmth spread through her chest, then the rest of her body. Moving became easy, and her thoughts became clearer.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Suddenly, her ears could make out new things. The little sounds of her surroundings that were drowned out previously; the distant rustling of fire, small explosions of light, a dozen footsteps every second, screams, and orders being yelled oui.

Belladonna cast a spell that caused translucent, ethereal chains to sprout from the ground. They wrapped themselves around Lightbrook's wrists and ankles, keeping him in place as he began to scream curses. The armored men encircled him at a distance, then began to chant as a group.

The armored man next to Lazara looked at her, and Lazara looked at him and squinted, making out the insignia of the Church on his chest. No particular church, but rather the Church of Ten.

He answered, "The pope sent us. He informed us a great evil is attacking this place, and we teleported here. What manner of arch-fiend are we dealing with?"

[] Write-in.


It's 24th Goldleaf, 1310, in the late evening, roughly 19:36.

You are outside, near a side entrance to the castle courtyard. In front of you, a group of Church paladins (???) has encircled the Adversary, while Belladonna is keeping him rooted to the spot. They are presumably trying to exorcise him, and from what you can tell of the curses and attempts at attacking back, they are at least keeping him restricted.

During this Chapter, Lazara was heavily wounded, almost on the brink of collapse and death by the time that reinforcements arrived. Snake shifted his attention to subconsciously hypnotizing her brain to redirect the movements of her internal muscles, to lock up or restrict movement in certain blood vessels and generally prevent bleeding, keep her breathing, and keep her heart from stopping (it would have done so twice by now otherwise.) Even without Snake, Lazara would have likely survived to the paladins getting here to stabilize her, but it was close.

Speaking of, the paladin who you're talking to had cast a stabilizing spell to prevent blood from leaving the body, move broken bones into place and keep them there, and to keep your brain oxygenated, as well as to suppress pain. He has now moved onto washing your body in healing energy, but it won't fully heal your wounds.

How did the pope know you were in danger? That's a question for another day, but I'll let you in on the fact that an 11-year-old noble girl snooping around is a part of it.

Right now, you're as lucid as someone who just woke up from a sleep and is experiencing a hangover. Physically, you can move around freely, though the paladin might insist you do not. You can also speak and have full clarity of your actions.

No supplementary actions can be taken at this moment.