Help! I’m probably going to murder my friends in this Isekai!

[Lop]

Eight Years Ago
​

Mark Langley put a hand up in front of his face, pushing away a leafy branch. He pushed away another branch, and then another, ducking under the last one. Hilly Forest stretched out before him. In the distance, mountains formed a rocky wall. He walked out on a rocky ledge overlooking a ravine. The sound of a river drifted up to him from far away. Mark inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and enjoying the sounds.

"Marrrkkkkk!" A voice called.

He turned and cupped a hand to his mouth. "Over here! Watch your step as you get closer to the sound of my voice!"

A red and black blur broke through the branches, then Babi appeared in front of him. She straightened up, brushing at the dark red traveling cloak around her shoulders. "Found you," She said, smiling.

Mark laughed, crossing his arms. "Yes you did,"

The branches moved, then Grace emerged onto the rocky ledge. She wore a long traveling cloak around her shoulders as well, a dark blue one to match Babi's red. Grace smiled as she approached the girl and Mark. "It's beautiful up here," She said, brushing back a long strand of her hair.

"Isn't it," Mark said, gazing at the distant mountains.

Babi slowly approached the edge of the outcrop, peering over. She quickly jumped back, running to Grace and grabbing tight. The woman tilted her head back and laughed, pushing the girl away. "How are you afraid of heights now, in all truth you've ridden dragons and stood atop towers,"

"In all truth?" Mark repeated, grinning. "Grace, did I just hear you use a Delfanas phrase?"

"Shut up," Grace said, rolling her eyes. "We hear it all the time, of course I'm going to use it,"

Babi walked back along the outcrop and gazed down on either side. "How are we going to get down?" she said, looking over her shoulder at them.

Mark walked up to the outcropping, putting a hand to his chin as he thought. Snapping, he turned to Babi. "I've got it, I'll pick you up and throw you over,"

"No!" Babi shouted, gripping her fists at her side. "I don't want to be thrown! Asshole!"

"Hey!" Mark and Grace said together.

"When did you start swearing!" Grace said, tilting her head and putting her hands on her hips.

Babi raised her chin and glanced away, as if she were too good for such things. "I hear it from you big sister,"

"Ha!" Mark laughed. "She's got you there Grace, you swear like a sailor,"

Grace sniffed, crossing her arms. "I'm actually perfect, which you'd know Mark if you had any sense or class,"

Mark's jaw dropped, then he laughed. "What on earth is that supposed to mean!"

Grace raised her chin and walked forward, pausing by the edge of the ravine. "It means I'll see you two at the bottom," She turned and stepped out into the air, falling straight down.

"Grace!" Babi yelled, wide-eyed. Mark was shocked as well. They ran up to the ledge and looked over. Grace was below, bouncing from rock to rock with superhuman skill and agility. She landed at the bottom, straightening up and glancing at Mark and Babi.

"I'm waiting!" Grace yelled, waving.

Mark let out a laugh. "Show off," He said, exchanging raised eyebrows with Babi. He waved his hand through the air. Small white clouds appeared in front of him. They circled together, forming a larger cloud. The puff of white lowered to the edge of the outcropping. Mark presented it to Babi with a flourish of his arm. "After you,"

Babi approached the cloud and cautiously stepped onto it. "Are you sure it's not going to be like last time?"

"Welll, let's hope not," Mark said, joining her on the cloud. "These things are harder without the HUD you know, I'm having to relearn everything,"

"I hate falling," Babi said, clutching his robe with one hand for support. "And you're bad at magic," The cloud lowered down into the ravine, depositing the pair at the bottom.

Grace gave them a haughty gaze, a hand on her hip. "Took you long enough,"

Mark waved her away with a smirk, then turned and gazed around the ravine. "Well, I don't see any sign of her,"

Grace strolled past him, lowering down to one knee. She closed her eyes and murmured a spell. The air around her shimmered. Grace straightened back up. "If Melody and her shadow have come through this way, it wasn't recently. No trace,"

Mark sighed. "Well, the trail's gone cold then. Do we keep heading east?"

"We're certainly not headed north," Grace said, regarding the distant range of mountains. Babi started walking along the ravine, picking up rocks she liked and pocketing them in a pouch she wore under her cloak. Grace watched her. "Babi! Don't get too far away!" The girl waved over her shoulder in response, bending down to inspect another rock.

Mark reached into his cloak and took out a map. Unfolding it, he turned it around until he was viewing a sketch of the surrounding country. "If she's not here, and Justin and Seth haven't seen anything to the south, then that means…"

"She could be west," Grace said.

"West is Caldus Bramble and the plains tribes. Any further than that and she'd be in Vashn. And from what I've heard Donovan's sorcerers would catch onto a demon lord in their midst pretty quickly."

Grace glanced down at her traveling boots. "We're going to have to address that someday, you know. Him. Vashn,"

"One thing at a time," Mark said, softly. "We've got to do something about Melody so we can help Bri," Grace nodded, though she looked miserable. Mark placed a reassuring hand to her shoulder. "We'll get through this Grace. We're getting stronger every day,"

Grace gave him a small smile. It faded as she grew serious. "If we're ruling out the west, which I'm not completely convinced of yet, then that leaves the east,"

"Melissa," Mark said, thinking.

"She'd be more than happy to run into the demon lord," Grace said sullenly. "I'm just not sure she's even herself anymore,"

Mark raised a gentle eyebrow at her. "We'll worry about Melissa after Bri,"

"I can have more than one worry," Grace shot back. "One of our friends is asleep, the other's shut herself off, the third can barely hold a coherent conversation anymore, and I can't even bring myself to think about Kaylee! That leaves you, me, Seth and Justin," Grace crossed her arms. "Out of those two I only trust myself and you,"

"Seth's unbelievably talented in combat," Mark said. "And Justin is doing just fine. More than fine, he's more popular with the people than any of us,"

"But you and I are doing all the hard work,"

Mark's expression fell. "Grace c'mon, we're all pulling our weight. What's really on your mind?"

Grace was silent, fighting with something she wanted to say. She started, then stopped, then shook her head. "Nothing. How are you doing since you and Alyssa…you know,"

Mark gave a short laugh. After a moment reminiscing, he shook his head. "Who we were when we entered here....it's not the same as who we are now. Both Alyssa and I feel that way, and that our paths are diverging,"

Grace was about to say something, but Babi's voice interrupted her. "Sisssttterrrrr! Marrrrkkkk!"

Pebbles exploded as Grace took off in Babi's direction. Mark sprinted after her. The pair moved along the ravine as it bent. Both skidded to a halt as they came around the corner.

Babi stood in the middle of a clearing in the rocky woods. A gentle brook fell down the side of one of the outcrops. The girl held a spear made of light in one hand, pointing it across the clearing. On the other side stood two figures. Both were tall, and wore intricate traveling cloaks. Their faces were obscured by hoods. One of the figures had a sword drawn at his side.

"Babi hold on!" Grace yelled, racing to meet her. She summoned her spear with a flick of her wrist, grabbing it and coming to a stop next to the girl. Mark jogged up behind them.

The two figures remained where they were. The one with the sword raised it ever-so-slightly. The other figure bowed its head, the hood going lower. "Hello," Mark called across the clearing. His voice echoed around the rocky walls. "My name's Mark, this is Grace, and this is Babi. Who might you be?"

Instead of answering, the figure with the sword disappeared in a flash. He reappeared next to Grace, knocking her spear from her grasp with his hilt. In the blink of an eye he lashed out again, knocking her back. She hit one of the outcrops, dislodging dirt and stones onto her head.

Mark threw out his arm and invoked a spell. Fire twirled around him, then shot out towards the sword-user. The figure flashed around the clearing, disappearing and reappearing as the fire turned aimlessly. It petered out, dispersing smoke as it did.

Wasting no time, Mark summoned three spells one after the other. The first was a wind-spell, sending a forceful gust through the clearing and blowing away the smoke. Next was a lighting spell. A spot in the sky darkened, then three bolts rained down. The last was an earth spell. Dirt formed into sharp stakes, shooting out in a swarm. When the dust settled, Mark looked for his assailant.

A sword point raised to his throat. Mark glanced sideways, finding the robed figure next to him. "Ah," Mark said, tilting his head back as they pressed on the sword.

"Don't touch him!" Babi screamed, thrusting with her light-spear. The figure blinked, appeared behind her, and tossed her to the side. With a shimmer the sword-user returned beside Mark with the sword at his throat.

"That's quite enough," A fair voice said, drawing Mark's gaze. The other robed figure lowered their hood, revealing the most beautiful woman the man had ever laid eyes on. Her hair was long and golden, and her ears stuck out at a point. A glowing rune worked its way up her throat, fading every time it pulsed. The figure next to him kept the sword at his throat.

"We should kill them," The sword-user said, his voice lower, but still as rich as the first figure's.

Grace extracted herself from the rocks, staggering as she stood. "We're not enemies, get your sword away from him!"

"You might be if you knew who we were," The male figure said. Mark glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The sword-user's face was covered by the hood.

"Just leave us alone!" Babi yelled, scrambling over. She clutched her traveling cloak to her, stopping a stone's throw from the robed figure.

"Calstar, please," The robed elf said. "Let us make peace with them, if they wish it,"

The sword-user raised his head in his hood, revealing a similar face to the first elf. His was marked in delicate patterns, forming a crosswork of rune lines. With a look of contempt, he twirled his sword and sent it back into its scabbard. He turned and walked over to the female elf, standing next to her. "Forgive my brother," She said, bowing her head. "I am Gwelenaen, and this is my brother Calstar," The male elf brushed back a lock of his hair, clearly uninterested in the conversation.

"Your brother could learn manners," Grace said, bending down to check over Babi.

"Watch your tongue," Calstar said, lifting his nose to Grace. "You speak to the Prince of the Guardian line of Sarius, rightful head of the Arch-Guardians and heir to the title of Guardian Supreme,"

Grace finished brushing out Babi's hair, then straightened up. "That's quite a mouthful,"

"Please," Gwelenaen said, lowering her head. "We wish only to pass safely to the lands of Bool. We are pursued by the other guardian lines,"

"Traitors," Calstar said, gritting his teeth.

Gwelenaen raised her head, looking at Mark earnestly. "Our plight is our own, we will not trouble you with it. We will take our leave now, may you have luck on your journey,"

The elf made to raise her hood, but Mark shifted. "Wait," He said. Grace looked at him, confused. He didn't notice as he stared into Gwelenaen's eyes. "We're heroes, perhaps we can help,"

"What!" Grace said, incredulous. "Mark! Bool is to the south! We're headed east!"

"I would not want to travel with a rabble such as you," Calstar said, his voice dangerously low. "Do not even entertain the idea,"

"You said you were being pursued by Guardians," Mark said, gesturing. "Those are other elves like you, right?"

"What are, elves," Gwelenaen said, her face briefly confused.

"My point is we have powers and abilities too,"

Calstar snorted. "Though I am the strongest Guardian and easily bested you, you would not even last against the weakest,"

"Mark stop it," Grace said, growing angry. "What are you doing, we have to find Melody and save Bri first,"

"I think we can help each other," Mark said, turning to Grace. He lowered his voice. "They're from Eo,"

"So?" Grace said, unimpressed.

"So they're obscenely powerful," Mark said. "C'mon, we could learn from them. Grow stronger,"

"By taking a detour south? No!"

Mark exhaled, giving her an earnest expression. "The more we learn about this world, the more we learn how tied up everything is to that forbidden land. And now we actually meet royalty from there. This could be it Grace. This could be the way we fix everything," Grace looked unsure, hesitating. Mark put a hand to her shoulder. "It will be fine, I promise. Melissa can handle Melody. And if not, we'll travel east afterwards,"

"If Melissa gets hurt," Grace said, holding one of her arms.

"She won't. You've seen how she fights,"

Grace glanced at Babi, then met Mark's eyes. She didn't say anything for a long time. Finally she nodded. "Okay. Let's do it,"




Mark's words echoed in Donovan's ears. He seemed light-headed. He felt for the ledge of the fountain, slowly sitting. "Uncle?" Reqart said, coming up beside him. Donovan lowered his face into his hands.

Mark slowly sat down next to Donovan, threading his hands together and leaning forward. "When we woke up from the last time-pass we took, we found ourselves in a different location. We had been kidnapped by the King of Delfanas, in an attempt to keep us from time-passing again. He hoped to convince us to defend the kingdom from the demons of the Eastern Empire," Donovan said nothing, his face still buried in his hands. "The girls were in the capital during a revolt. They barely escaped with their lives. Then, they were attacked by a demon lord named Melody," Mark paused, staring down at his threaded hands. Reqart, unsure of what was happening, came around his father and sat on the ledge with him. "After that, Bri found herself in Caldus Bramble. You've seen what became of that. She won't leave," Mark took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. His voice grew distant. "While we were searching for Melody, I met Reqart's mother. Her name was Gwelenaen. She was beautiful Donovan, kind, with a heart that had room for the whole world and every creature in it," Mark paused, letting the silence stretch. After awhile he started talking again. "We all came to the same conclusion eventually, each in our own way. Grace was the first to start doubting this place was a game. Then me, Alyssa and Melissa. I don't think Bri every really cared. Justin was convinced last. As for Seth, he probably always believed. Reqart came into the world shortly after, and by then we were dealing with the aftermath of Melody's actions. She'd been giving the Eastern Empire access to demons, and by the time She-Joke-, I mean Melissa, took her down, the damage had already been done. Everywhere you looked there was devastation and death," Mark shook his head, then sighed and straightened up. "We're trying to fix it now, but the Empire's unrelenting. And they're far from the only enemy. We fight for the Kingdom Alliance, because they summoned us. But the problems are everywhere,"

Donovan kept his face buried, his thoughts churning. Reqart leaned forward, looking past Mark at the man. "Uncle, are you alright?"

"no," Donovan said, his voice muffled. "I'm not,"

"Reqart was only two years old when Gwelenaen was stolen from us. Her brother found a way to become Guardian-Supreme by disposing of the Arch-Guardians. He did this by promising Reqart's mother to a powerful Spirit Lord. She refused, and Calstar, her brother, has kept her sealed away until she changes her mind,"

"Mark," Donovan said, his voice still strained. That was the only thing he said.

Mark rested a hand on Donovan's back. "When you came out of your time-pass, we were trying to stop both the Eastern Empire's advance on Delfanas, as well as Calstar's mad plans for the Guardians in Eo. Now though, it's all collapsing. We need your help Donovan. If we can unite Esymia's Guardian line with the heir to the golden towers through marriage, we might have the ability to stop Calstar and his allies from hurting a lot of people. And if Justin and She-, Melissa, are successful in the east, we might finally put an end to all the damage Melody caused. Your plan to enter Eo, it will never work. There's a single gate, and it has not been breached for two-thousand years. Neither you nor your army will accomplish it. I have been trying these last seven years to find a way in…" Mark turned to him. "So come back to us Donovan, and join our fight. Help us stop Calstar and the Eastern Empire. What do you say?"

Donovan lifted his face from his hands, his face drained of color. "what do I say?" He repeated, shocked. Before anything else could be spoken, an explosion shook the ground. The tree above the fountain swayed, causing leaves to rain down. Donovan, Mark and Reqart all stumbled from the fountain edge.

"Father!" Reqart yelled, standing. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Mark said, helping up Donovan. "But I have an idea, come on," With Mark and Reqart shepherding him along, Donovan returned through the stone archway into the main feasting area. Another explosion rocked the center, followed by a cloud of smoke.

Bri, her giant, glowing form towering over the area, roared as her four arms made fists. She brought them down, narrowly missing Grace as the armored warrior leapt away. Grace landed, skidding to a halt on the grass. She pointed her spear at Bri. Geometric symbols unleashed another volley of explosions.

Reqart pointed. "Aunt Bri and Aunt Grace are fighting!"

"Damn it all," Mark muttered.

Seth appeared between Mark and Donovan, throwing his arms around both of their shoulders and watching. "Hey guys," He said, bobbing his head to some unheard beat. "Things are getting pretty wild here,"

"Who started it," Mark said, breaking away from Seth's arm to intervene. He was forced to stop as Bri clapped all four hands together and sent a shockwave through the clearing. Everyone present was knocked over.

"Had enough yet!" Grace yelled, leaping into the air and lashing out with her spear. More explosions followed.

"How dare you!" Bri roared. She swiped at Grace, then sent a stream of spirits at her. "I allow you in my domain, and this is how you repay me!"

Grace landed, twirling her spear. "Oh get off your high horse! You think you can just wait out everything in your little forest kingdom? Open your eyes Brianna, the world's coming right to your doorstep!"

"And that is where it will stop!" Bri said, her eyes engulfed in flames. She raised a fist, bringing it down and forcing Grace to dodge out of the way. "I only wish for all of us to be together again, safe! Perhaps I will keep you all here!" Bri opened her four palms to the sky. In response, a thousand wiggly shapes appeared, glowing brightly before disappearing. The ground shook, then trees and other wildlife sprouted up at a rapid rate. Their trunks and flowers expanded, cracking the earth and sending up cascades of dirt and stone.

Donovan felt himself fall. His mind still reeled, the chaotic events around him doing nothing to break him from his trance. Darkness closed in, then a scaly claw reached down and gripped his arm. Donovan felt himself lifted up, then emerge back into sunlight.

"Master!" Crooked-Fang yelled, pulling Donovan to his feet. "We must leave this place!" The young man said nothing as the Montre commander rushed him away. The ground continued to shake as more and more greenery sprouted. Donovan and Crooked-Fang were joined by the others in his party as they fled the ruins.

It was a mad dash. The catgirls ran as well, reaching the treelines and disappearing into the darkness of the forest. The ground upended behind them, vines swirling up and exploding with flowers.

For how long they ran, Donovan couldn't say. Someone helped Crooked-Fang carry him as the ground became a flowing river of dirt and debris. The trees continued to grow around them, slamming into each other and breaking apart violently. Bark and splintered trunks flew around as if caught in a tornado.

The floating castle came into view. It shook as several large boulders slammed into the hive beneath it, breaking away a chunk. Donovan was hurried to the drawbridge and up it. "REQART!" A voice yelled. Donovan slowed, turning despite Crooked-Fang urging him onward. Behind Donovan were his servants. Among them was Reqart, flanked by Princess Ninja.

In the entry to the clearing was Mark. He yelled Reqart's name again, struggling to stand upright as a fierce gale surged. Trees expanded and exploded behind him. Reqart walked a few steps down the drawbridge, Donovan's servants parting for him. The boy paused and cupped a hand to his mouth. "I'm going with Uncle!" Reqart yelled. "I'm going to save mother!"

"NO REQART!" Mark yelled, trying to fight his way through the gale. "IT WONT WORK!"

"Uncle promised!" Reqart shouted back, his posture insistent, defiant. The boy waved. "I'll bring her back! Just wait!" He turned and started up the drawbridge, Princess Ninja shielding him from the wind.

"REQARRRRTTTTTT!" Mark yelled, grasping in the direction of the floating castle.

Reqart came up to Donovan, who gazed down at the boy with a dazed face. The boy smiled up at him and took his hand, leading Donovan the rest of the way up. Darkness swallowed them as they entered the castle.

In the throne room, Donovan stopped allowing Reqart to guide him. The castle lifted up, rapidly leaving the forests of Caldus Bramble. Donovan took his hand away from the boy and slowly made his way to the steps of his throne. He sat on the bottom step and stared straight ahead.

"My Count!" Tokaroaka said, coming up to him. "We ensured Princess Esymia was brought with us. She is safely in comfortable quarters, you need not fear!

The Master of Ships flanked the sorcerer, looking worried. "We will rejoin the fleet soon my Count," the robed Uhnut said, wringing his hands. "Would you like us to head north then?"

Donovan said nothing, continuing to stare straight ahead. "Master," Tokaroaka said, coming up before him and kneeling. "My spies have spread the word to all the surrounding lands that you offer salvation to those willing to journey for it. Many have received the word and flock to join us,"

The young man's eyes slowly blinked, his gaze far-off. Crooked-Fang and several other officials were also present. The Montre Commander approached, banging his trident to his chest in a salute. "My armies are ready master, I will stop at nothing to enact your will. Just give us the word,"

The servants waited, the silence stretching. Donovan made no movement, no noise. An official coughed, the sound echoing around the columns. "How long will you wait around like meek dogs," A voice said. "Before you do what we have been ordered," Lyra emerged from between two commanders, brushing past them and coming to a halt next to Tokaroaka and the master of ships. "He has told us that we are headed for Eo, and so that is where we will head,"

"Quiet you," Crooked-Fang said, curling back his lip. "You do not speak for the master,"

"I remind you what he has already said," Lyra said, coming around to Donovan and standing beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder, staring down the other servants. "Who among you has not heard him speak of his goals? Who can claim ignorance to what he desires?"

"So then let us hear it from him!" Crooked-Fang yelled, his voice booming around the throne-room. "Not from you!"

Tokaroaka, the master of ships and Crooked-Fang all glared at her. Lyra was undaunted, raising her chin and keeping her hand on Donovan's shoulder. "Why are we discussing this?" A small voice said. The officials and commanders turned to see Reqart standing nearby. Princess Ninja loomed behind, gazing down on all before her. The boy tilted his head. "My mother is in Eo, father said so. We must go there,"

Tokaroaka and the master of ships exchanged looks. "You are not the Count," Crooked-Fang said, though his tone wasn't as harsh.

"Do not question me puppet," Reqart said, a smile on his face. Crooked-Fang made a noise of surprise, taking a step back.

"You have heard it then," Lyra announced, looking at all the servants in turn. "We head for Eo, as planned. Does anyone question our Master's orders?"

No one said anything. "Everyone get ready then!" Reqart said, his cheery voice echoing off the columns.

"Perhaps," Tokaroaka said, regarding Donovan. "We should not be so quick to leave the Count. He appears distressed,"

"Perhaps being alone is exactly what the Count requires," Lyra said. Tokaroaka didn't respond, his mask hiding his expression. Lyra bent down next to Donovan, moving until she was in his vision. "Master, would you like to be alone?"

Donovan's eyes focused, recognizing Lyra. "you," He said, softly.

Lyra straightened up. "He wishes to be alone. Leave us," Crooked-Fang looked ready to protest. The Master of Estates stared down the Montre-Commander. The lizard narrowed his eyes, casting a final look at Donovan before leaving.

Reqart approached, taking Donovan's hand. The boy had a worried look on his face. "Uncle, what's wrong?" Donovan's head slowly sank. Reqart patted it. "I'm going to visit Princess Esymia and make sure she's alright. I'll be back,"

Reqart left the throne room, Princess Ninja waiting for him to pass and then following behind him. Donovan was left alone with Lyra. The woman stared down at him. Nothing was said for some time.

"real," Donvoan whispered. "all of it, real,"

"Master," Lyra said, her voice tinged with concern. "Please, share your burden with me. What troubles your thoughts so,"

"I enslaved entire generations," Donovan said, staring past Lyra. He trailed off. More silence stretched, until the man shook his head. "I had people killed in my name. I waged war and built weapons. The whole time people died in droves," His gaze slowly traveled up until he stared at Lyra. "I'm surrounded by people who are forced to serve me with everything they have. They'll do anything for me, even if I tell them to jump off a bridge," He fell silent, his eyes searching hers. "I raped one of them,"

"Master!" Lyra said. "What are you saying!"

"I'm saying I'm a monster!" Donovan screamed, tears streaming down his face. "I've done unforgivable things because I didn't think any of it was real! I thought it was a trap! A game! And now I find out it was all true! That those were people!" He slowly fell forward off the bottom step, sinking to his knees. "I just wanted to go home. I didn't want to fight the Demon King, or whatever they needed us for. I thought destroying Eo might end this world." Donovan gripped his face and let out an anguished yell. "I gambled everything on it!"

Lyra stared down at him with an unreadable expression. "No," she said, her voice oddly strained. "You're not a monster, you're the lord of Vashn, the conqueror of all," She took a step back. "He who raised the dark towers of the land and dug the rivers of lava,"

"no," Donovan said, burying his face again and shaking it. "None of that should have happened. I wouldn't have done any of it if I had known,"

"N-no," Lyra said, her face working hard to stay calm. "Stop speaking like that!"

Donovan slowly rose to his feet, his head lowered. He held out his hand. "I call upon the power of my own name. Unbind this one from my will, and cleave our union," Lyra's face froze. Donovan lowered his hand and slowly sat back down on the bottom step. "Your mind is free now," He said, his voice quiet. "Now do you understand what I have done,"

Lyra stared down at him, her face clouded. When she finally spoke, her words came out quiet, strained. "When I was just a little girl, I watched my eldest sister killed for speaking out against the Quarry-Master during a meeting of the Vashn high council. When I was just a little older, I witnessed a man crushed under a wagon for daring to step on a passing sorcerer's robe," Donovan stared up at her, his brow furrowed. "My second eldest sister was killed by an assassin. My third died of black lung. My last sister killed herself, so that I would not have to do it," Lyra met his gaze. "There could only be one Master of Estates, as you know. The land of Vashn is cruel, as is the city of Mordor. Our lives are worth no more than a pack-beast there. After my last sister's death, I gave everything to be where I am now. There is only one way to live well in Vashn. And that is by pleasing the Master,"

Donovan's head sank back into his hands. He shook it, his voice anguished. "I don't know what to do…I don't know what to do!"

Distant horns sounded, drifting through the columns of the throne room. The sounds of steps reached Donovan's ears. He heard Tokaroaka's voice. "Master, we are arriving at the plains of Eo,"

"what have I done," Donovan whispered, gripping his face.

"Come with me," Lyra said. Her tone held an edge. Donovan raised his face from his hands. More distant horns sounded, and a distant roar built. The Master of Estates took his hand. Donovan hesitated, then slowly rose. Lyra turned and walked with him across the throne-room.

The roar built as they neared the opening. The Vashn ships now blew their own horns, beating drums and calling out to one another. Lyra and Donovan reached the opening in the throne room. The Count gazed out of the castle at the land below.

Dominating the horizon were mountains stretching until they disappeared in either direction. Their peaks rose up to impossible heights, disappearing among the clouds. Before them was a rolling plain, stretching out away from the mountains.

Filling the plains were a sea of people. More people than Donovan could possibly count. They yelled and screamed and cheered. Their voices carried up in waves to the castle, rising and falling with the horns and drums. Tokaroaka came up behind Donovan. "Over a million people have traveled from all the surrounding kingdoms my Count. They wish to enter Eo with you, and seize paradise, as you have promised,"

Lyra came up and rested her chin on Donovan's shoulder. She whispered in his ear. "One million desperate, hungry people my Count. Ready to do anything for a chance at ending the misery they've endured," Donovan gazed down upon the thousands upon thousands of colored figures. They continued to yell and chant as they filled the plain. Lyra came around him, facing Donovan. "Since I was a child I served you because I had no choice. The world was cruel, and death was constant. But as I grew older, I began serving you for a different reason," Donovan stared into her eyes as he listened. Lyra glanced at the mountains in front of them. "You asked me what you should do. I will tell you; do what you have always intended. Break through those mountains, and burn the world down around you. Grind it to ash, and start over anew,"

"what?" Donovan said, struck.

Lyra approached him, taking his hands and holding his gaze. "I will always be with you my Count. I will never leave your side. I have sacrificed everything for you," She came around the side of him, slowly holding her hand over the millions of frenzied people below. "Together, we will end this world," Donovan slowly tore his eyes away from Lyra. He stared down at the masses. They heaved and expanded as they chanted.

In the distance, the mountains of Eo loomed.

​

 

[Lop]

Three hundred warships fanned out across the plains of Eo. Behind them, the transports moved in lines. On the plains below, thousands upon thousands of people of every species made their way across the grass. The flying castle flew above everything in the middle, keeping watch over the procession.

Donovan slowly walked back to his throne. He hung his head as thoughts fought each other for dominance, his cape dragging behind him. Lyra and Tokaroaka brought up the rear. "I trust you have found a way to feed all these people," The sorcerer said, his tone rebuking. "If they turn on each other, or us, they will be of little use,"

"Worry yourself with weapons magi," Lyra replied, her tone also one of rebuttal. "I will do my job,"

Donovan paused on the bottom step to his throne. A murderer was about to ascend these stairs. He slowly shifted. The next step would be taken by a slaver. Donovan moved up the stairs, each step representing an evil action. When he got to the top he stopped. "He is in no condition to lead us to the gate," Tokoroaka said, his voice trailing up the stairs. "The Master needs rest,"

"Ha, so that you and Crooked-Fang and Belok may argue like children over who is in charge? No, those days are over. He will lead us, and we will enter Eo as planned,"

Tokoroaka's murmur held an edge as it carried up to Donovan. "Careful Lyra, move too recklessly and you will find yourself surrounded,"

Donovan couldn't make out Lyra's next words. He was distracted by movement at the edge of his throne room. A shadow passed through the columns, then the large gargoyle commander appeared, his wings flapping fiercely. He landed, shaking the throne room and bowing. "My Count,"

Donovan gazed down at him. He turned and walked to his chair without a word, sitting heavily in it. "Speak Belok," Lyra said, her voice ringing clearly. "What have you to report,"

"Nothing to you," The gargoyle said, lumbering across the floor. He forced her out of the way with his size, then stopped and bowed before the stairs. "I have returned from the east master, having made contact with your companions. The one known as Seth is on his way. The others wish-"

Donovan's voice drifted down, quiet and solemn. "Thank you, commander,"

The gargoyle gazed back up, unsure if he should continue. He thought better of it and bowed his head. "Of course,"

The next several hours passed in silence. More officials gathered in the throne room in groups, making their way to the shadows of the columns. Donovan said nothing as the noise of their garments and jewelry filled the halls like whispers. Finally the silence was broken as Reqart appeared with Princess Esymia and Princess Ninja. "Uncle!" The boy called, rushing to the base of the stairs. He paused, waiting for Donovan to respond. When the man sat silent atop the throne, Reqart started climbing. Reaching the top, Donovan's nephew came up to him. "Please Uncle, what's wrong?"

Donovan found Reqart's eyes. "What do you think of me, in truth nephew,"

The boy smiled. "You're funny! You always joke with everyone, and you always know just what to do!"

"Do you remember when we first met? You stood with me and watched as I burned a city. Do you think that was funny?"

Reqart fell quiet, confused. His face struggled, then he gave a slow smile. "Those were just puppets Uncle. They'll come back, you said so yourself,"

"I did," Donovan said softly. "didn't I,"

Horns interrupted them. An official ran to the base of the stairs, stopping and catching his breath. "My count! We have arrived at the Gate of Eo!" The throne room erupted in murmurs and movement.

Reqart waved down. "One of you do the glass spell, I want to see!" Nobody moved.

"Do not make the Count's nephew ask again," Lyra said. The sorcerers looked to Tokaroaka, who's expression was hidden beneath his grotesque mask. He gestured for them to proceed. The sorcerers began chanting. The air in front of Donovan's throne shimmered. A glassy circle appeared, shifting until it revealed a view of the land outside the castle.

The mountains of Eo rose up like foreboding walls. Their sides were not slants, but cleaved faces rising higher than the tallest of skyscrapers. Carved into a section of the mountains was a stone block, a gate so large it could easily be a small mountain of its own. There were no windows, or door. In fact for all intents and purposes, it was a gate without an entrance.

"Count of Vashn," Princess Esymia said, her voice calm yet earnest. "You must turn back now. My brother will not suffer this gathering outside Eo. He will destroy you all with ease,"

No response came from the throne. "My Count," The ship-master said, coming up to the base. "Shall we start our bombardment of the gate?"

Donovan sat slumped in his throne as he thoughts swirled around his head. They went to darker and darker places as he tried to make sense of who he was now. Reqart glanced with a worried expression at the man, then back down at the waiting servants. "Uncle, how do we get in?"

"You don't," A voice answered. Smoke swirled around the throne room, prompting the servants to step back. The smoke congealed, then dissipated, revealing Mark, Grace, Seth and Babi. Everyone was dressed for battle. Grace was in her full plate armor and gripped the complex spear. Seth wore his tattered coat and blindfold. This time the blindfold had a red eye painted in the center. Mark wore a flowing robe with a single sash tucking it in. Bells hung from the sash, each ornament a different size and color. Babi wore gauntlets, arm and shoulder plates, along with a new black cloak. She stared at Donovan as the others did, though her eyes felt more piercing.

"Crooked-Fang!" Lyra yelled. The Montre Commander didn't need to be told twice. He and his son, the Unfeeling One, as well King Orga and six other lizards, spread out in front of the throne. Tokaroaka was joined by a score of sorcerers. The robed figures drew swords and flicked them, enveloping the blades in fire. The rest of the space was filled as Donovan's knights trickled in, all of them with their weapons drawn. The gargoyle commander and several armored owls closed off the encirclement, standing behind the four newcomers.

"We're not here to fight," Mark said, his voice echoing around the room. "I'm just here for my son and Princess Esymia,"

"You have come uninvited to the court of the Count of Vashn," Lyra announced from the bottom of the throne steps. "Do not think you are in a position to make demands,"

Reqart called down from the throne platform. "Father it's okay, I told you! I'm going to get mother!"

Mark stared at his son, his face pained. "I'm sorry Reqart," He said gently. "But there is no way past those gates. None have ever entered Eo without permission,"

"You do not speak truth," Lyra said, raising her chin. "A thousand years ago the Great Conqueror entered Eo with his most powerful warriors, and-"

"A legend, nothing more," Mark said, his voice stern. "Do not give false hope to my son, or my friend,"

Reqart shook his head defiantly. "No father, you're wrong! Uncle promised!"

"go," Donovan said, his voice barely above a whisper. Reqart turned to him, confused. The man in the throne extended his hand, as if it were great effort, and pointed down at Mark. "go to your father,"

The boy grew concerned, furrowing his brow. "n-no Uncle, we just need to get through the gate…"

"It is impossible," Princess Esymia said, her voice ringing clearly around the throne room. "Leave now, before the Guardian fleet arrives,"

Horns echoed from warship to warship. Donovan's eyes slowly went to the glass viewing-spell hovering in front of his throne. On the eastern horizon next to the mountains, shapes moved, as if swaying. Donovan leaned forward in his throne, waving his hand. The viewing-spell shifted.

They were titans. The giants lumbered forward, their heads encased in giant stone towers. Above them, colossal, decaying whale corpses swam in the sky. Iron fortifications bigger than the whale's themselves were built atop the creatures. Strange instruments and towers seemed to poke out haphazardly from them.

"The Eastern Empire!" The Master of Ships yelled. The robed Uhnut wrung his hands, looking up at the throne. "My Count! It is a battle!"

Crooked-Fang and his son, as well as Tokaroaka, turned away from the three heroes and saint. They looked up at the throne where Donovan sat. The man stared at the viewscreen, unmoving. "My count!" Lyra yelled, her expression concerned. She picked up the hem of her dress and hurried up the stairs.

"Presumptuous!" Crooked-Fang roared, gripping his trident in one hand. "Do not approach the Master!"

Lyra ignored him, racing up the many narrow steps. She reached the top, stopping to catch her breath. "My Count," She said, pausing and straightening up. "You must steel your resolve and lead your forces,"

"She's right uncle," Reqart said.

As Lyra and Reqart stood around Donovan's throne, Grace surveyed the rest of the room with just her eyes. The rest of her body stood straight as an arrow, prepared to attack at a moment's notice.

"What the hell," Mark said, staring at the view screen floating in the air. "The Empire, here? Are they mad?" The viewscreen picked up the cries of the masses below the fleet. The gathered species and creatures sounded awed, though alarm was also present.

A new sound was heard. It was like the breaking and booming of icebergs, or thunder. The distant sky churned, five swirls forming in the clouds. The swirls grew thicker and thicker, graying the sky and blotting out the sun. The swirls slowed, then small holes opened up in the center.

Five massive balloon spiders lowered through the holes. Their legs descended to the earth, swaying gently. The spiders opened their mouths, and white flaky shapes began to pour out.

"No!" Grace yelled, taking a step forward. "It…it can't be!" Mark's eyes were wide as well, as were Babi's. Seth's expression seemed calm under his bandage.

Donovan shifted in his throne, looking past Lyra at the viewing glass. The woman turned, as did Reqart. The three of them watched as the sky-bound spiders unleashed their cargo upon the plains. "My count!" Lyra shouted, turning on him. "Your orders, please!" Slowly, ever so slowly, Donovan's eyes met hers. Silence stretched. Please Lyra mouthed.

"open fire," he whispered, burying his face in his hand.

Lyra relayed the message. The Uhnut Master of Ships spun and took a deep breath. "OPEN FIRE!" he screamed.

All three-hundred warships unleashed their cannons in the direction of the Empire hordes. A moment later, the air around the ships was filled with geometric symbols. The fleet unleashed their magical barrages, filling the distant sky with explosions.

"Master!" Crooked-Fang yelled, running to the base of the steps. "Allow me to lead our armies to meet them!" Donovan didn't raise his face from his hand. Using his other hand, he made of a weak gesture of permission. Crooked-Fang turned and ran for the entrance to the throne-room.

The Empire whale-ships grew closer as they swam through the sky. Their formation glowed with electrical discharge, then bolts of lighting rocketed towards the Vashn fleet. The bolts struck some of the warships. A moment later, the warships erupted in an expanding bubble of explosions.

"SPREAD THE FLEET!" The Master of Ships yelled. "DO NOT CLUMP TOGETHER!"

The Vashn warships continued to unleash cannon and spell fire on the approaching lines as they shifted away from each other. The transports ships lowered, the gathered pilgrims retreating to make room for them. It was clear the million refugees were panicked and fleeing. The gargoyle commander turned to the owls with him. "Gather my forces, we bring down the sky-barges,"

"Do not be so hasty Belok," Tokaroaka said. "Our master had not given you leave, perhaps-"

"Perhaps," The gargoyle rumbled, shifting near the columns. "We should hear from the Count," Donovan made another weak gesture, his face still in his hands. The gargoyle turned without a word and flapped his wings twice, sending a gust through the room. He took off, and a moment later the armored owls flew after him.

"Mark," Grace said, pointing at the viewscreen. "Look," The balloon spiders had finished their vomiting of the demons. Each one brought its legs back up. A single small figure fell out of the mouth of all five. The figures landed among the demons.

"You don't think…" Babi said, furrowing her brow.

"No," Mark said, his expression grim. "It can't be,"

The horde of demons surged forth, then slowed. They parted, and the five figures emerged. The view-spell hovering near Donovan's throne allowed for an up-close look. The figures all resembled Lord Zyre. Their skin was white and flaky, like paste. They had holes in their head that connected on two ends, as if drilled. Their steps were purposeful, and with grace. A sixth figure joined them, emerging to walk in the center. It was Alamare the Demon Lord. He wore a fine suit tailored with dark gems, his hair flowing freely from his head.

"How!" Grace exploded, drawing many of the servants' gazes. "Those are Melody's demons! He can't control them!"

"A pact has been made," Mark said, narrowing his eyes. "Or so it would seem,"

"We should probably get down there," Seth said, tightening his eye bandanna. "Right?"

Babi looked concerned, watching the demon lord and the five figures approach. "There's six of them and four of us,"

Grace immediately turned to the throne. "Donovan! Lend us your champions!"

Donovan glanced at the viewing screen. He then moved his eyes to Lyra and nodded. She turned. "The Master has agreed, you will have them all,"

The Vashn transports touched down on the grassy plains. Their doors opened, and infantry marched out in block formations. The beasts streamed out and gathered to the side, forming an unruly horde as they waited. A single, smaller airship touched down between the Vashn and Empire forces. Grace, Mark, Seth and Babi walked out, followed by King Orga, the Unfeeling One, Gitch and the old man in the cage, called Habban. His enclosure was wheeled out by several sorcerers, who immediately fled back inside the ship. Grace turned as the transport lifted back off, inspecting the champions.

"You," She said, pointing her spear at the man in the cage. "I know the others. What's your deal," The man just smiled a wide, toothy grin, then laughed in a crazed manner. "Alright," Grace said, turning back to her friends. "How do we want to do this,"

Seth scratched his head and turned. Alamare continued to approach with the five white figures. "I guess I'll take the demon lord. We never got a change to finish our fight,"

"Are you sure Seth?" Mark said, concerned. "They're just as powerful as us, if not more powerful. We could put two on them,"

"Nah," Seth said, waving away the idea. "I think I got it,"

"I'll take one of the corrupted then," Grace said, nodding at the approaching white figures.

Babi shifted, summoning a spear made of light. "As will I,"

Mark scratched the back of his neck. "As you know I can only really provide support, unless things get really bad,"

"We understand," Grace said, turning to the champions. "That leaves three corrupted. Speak truthfully, for the battle depends on it. Which of you shall face one of them alone,"

King Orga hefted his butcher sword onto his shoulder. "I can easily do it,"

"No," The Unfeeling One said. "We both know it should be Gitch and the one called Habban,"

The Orga King snorted under his helm, but nodded. "Very well,"

Seth approached the iron cage, gesturing at the man inside. "Soo, do we just, wheel him in front of one of them and assume he'll do the rest?" The old man laughed, kicking one foot against the bars.

"I'll show you," King Orga said, walking to the cage. He raised his sword and brought it down into the ground, leaving it there. He bent down, his metal plates shifting, and lifted the cage. Once he had it on his shoulder, he took two experimental steps, then threw the cage with all his might.

The heroes and champions watched the iron box sail through the air. It landed in the grass between them and Alamare's group. The demon lord smiled and pointed the cage out to one of the white figures. The figure lowered to the ground and took off, speeding towards it.

"Hello heroes!" Alamare called, waving. "Accepted the good Count's invitation I see!"

"What is this Alamare," Mark called, his hair buffeted by the wind. "How did you get ahold of Melody's demons,"

Alamare gave a shrug, frowning. "Well once Lord Zyre died, the line of succession got a little complicated. Especially on account of the whole royal line now being corrupted," Alamare came to a stop a stone's throw away, taking in the heroes and champions. "So I came along and sorted it all out for them,"

"This is it demon," Grace said, pointing her spear at him. "There will be no more plots or terror from you after this,"

Alamare just gave her a wink, then moved his gaze to Seth. He nodded at the blindfolded man. "I was hoping to see you here,"

"Me too," Seth said, giving a small grin. "You grew back your arm,"

Alamare smirked. "I've never met someone who appreciates movement in the way I do,"

Seth shrugged, letting out a laugh. "Well sure, when you're the fastest there is, nothing can stop you,"

For the first time anyone had seen, Alamare's smile died on his face. His expression grew dark. "what do you mean,"

Seth raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well I'll tell you, someone once told me about the fastest person ever, many years ago, and he was pretty powerfu-"

"YOU ARE NOT FIT TO SPEAK OF MY MASTER!" Alamare roared, sending out a gale. The heroes and champions had to brace themselves against the force. The demon lord pointed. "You do NOT appreciate his ability as I do! I am his disciple of speed! I am the fastest, second only to him!"

Seth frowned. "You sure about that?"

Before Alamare could respond, a sound distracted everyone. It was the sound of iron bars exploding. The old man in the cage let out a laugh as he danced atop the white figure attacking him. He ducked and dodged and weaved, doing a little jig before dancing away. The white figure sprouted several arms and chased after.

Seth had just enough time to look away, then duck, as Alamare flashed in front of him. The demon lord punched where Seth had been, splitting the earth and sending everyone sprawling. Seth flashed away, Alamare giving chase.

Grace shot up from the ground, Babi alongside her. The two engaged their corrupted opponents with spears and spells as the white figures lashed out with shifting limbs. The Unfeeling One and King Orga cornered another white figure, and Gitch flailed around as he tried to smash the last one.

Donovan watched his friends and champions fight from where he sat in his throne. Reqart and Lyra stood on either side of him, also gazing up at the glass viewing-spell. Around them, warships kept up a continuous barrage of cannonballs, rockets and explosive spells.

On the plains, the Vashn armies and demon hordes slowly converged. Firearms went off up and down the Vashn lines, followed by pike-wielders rushing forward. Golems towered over infantry, sending out eye blasts that vaporized scores of demons. In the distance, geometric shapes appeared around the approaching titans. A moment later, the titan spells shot up columns of fire here and there among Donovan's armies.

Reqart appeared memorized. Whale-ships and warships alike fell from the sky in slow-motion, engulfed in flames. Smoke poured up from the plains as black and white figures swarmed over it.

"Reqart," Princess Esymia called up.

The boy slowly tore his attention away from the view-spell. He approached the stairs, looking down them. The elf princess had her hands clasped in front of her, her head lowered. "You should convince your uncle to turn back now,"

"I'm sorry," Reqart said, his voice quiet. "But we already talked about this, remember? In your room earlier? I have to see my mother, and Uncle Donovan has taught me how to be brave,"

Lyra smiled down at the boy. "You are right to be brave. The other servants bicker, but they need one to look to until the Master regains his senses,"

"It is not a matter of bravery," Princess Esymia called up. "But a matter of magnitude. You cannot hope to enter Eo, or withstand the Guardians should they come out,"

"We will see about that," Tokaroaka said, approaching the stairs. The sorcerer came to a stop next to princess Esymia, looking up to the throne. "Master, our warships and aerial forces have engaged the enemy fleets, but none can break through yet to halt the titans' advance. If we do nothing, the giants will wreck havoc upon our forces," Tokaroaka bent down to one knee. "I seek permission to begin charging the focusing-crystals,"

Donovan didn't reply, his gaze remaining on the viewing-spell. Both Reqart and Lyra waited for him. Slowly the Master of Estates turned to Reqart. The boy swallowed, then glanced down at Tokaroaka. "Do it magi," He said, trying to make his voice brave.

The sorcerer didn't protest, instead bowing and rushing to join a group of his companions. "See?" Lyra said, smiling at Reqart. "It's not so hard to help your Uncle, is it?" Reqart didn't respond, giving Donovan a concerned look.

On the grassy plains below, Seth and Alamare formed criss-crossing trenches in the earth as they sped around each other. The upturned dirt fell back as dust. It mixed with the gunpowder smoke and smog from the constant explosions, forming a haze over the battle. Seth skidded to a halt on a dime, exchanging several hundred blows with Alamare in the blink of an eye. The two separated, then earth was vaporized as they resumed their chase.

Grace and Babi fought back to back, spinning their spears and lashing out as their two opponents surged around them. The formless bodies of the white figures were hard to pin, but both Grace and Babi continued their assaults with focused determination.

King Orga and the Unfeeling One had fallen into a steady rhythm of unrelenting bashing. Their opponent continued to sprout limbs to defend itself, but both champions' weapons blurred as they brought them down again and again.

Gitch and his opponent dug their feet into the earth and wailed on each other with long limbs. The tall mummy and white figure sent out shockwaves as their blows grew faster and faster.

As for Habban, he continued to laugh. The old man did a jig as his corrupted opponent brought down a forest of razer-sharp limbs, jumping out of the way at the last moment. The white figure charged after him, but the old man stopped and opened his mouth.

His jaw enlarged to an impossible size as he lunged forward. The white figure threw up its hands to shield itself, but the old man's jaw expanded. He chomped down on the creature twice, then swallowed. His head shrank back down to normal proportions. Habban settled down in the grass, taking in the view of the fighting around him.

Donovan watched on the viewing-spell as the old man started to pick flowers. The Count had a vacant expression, his eyes seeing, but unseeing. "Puppet look!" Reqart said, pointing Lyra to the screen. Warship horns blasted a moment later.

The glass showed a line of shapes lazily drifting over the Gate of Eo. They appeared to be bone-white ships with triangular sails both above and below. They moved through the air like majestic fish, their hulls segmented with jewels.

The jewels flashed.

A moment later, both Vashn warships and Imperial whale-ships were cut apart by red lines. The lasers emitted from the new ships' jewels. Dozens of burning ship debris rained down on the plains below.

"No!" Lyra yelled, taking a step forward as she watched the viewing-spell.

"The Guardian fleet," Princess Esymia said simply. She too stared up at the images in the glass. "They will spare no one,"

"Tokaroaka!" Lyra yelled down the stairs. The sorcerer looked back up. "The focusing crystals!"

The robed sorcerer shook his grotesque mask. "It is not nearly charged yet, we need more mana," Lyra looked up at the view-screen in distress, watching as the Guardian ships sent out a new wave of red lines. More Vashn warships and Empire whale-ships broke up in the sky. "The boy," Tokaroaka said, his voice quiet.

"What?" Lyra said.

"The boy," Tokaroaka repeated. "He may help,"

Lyra slowly faced Reqart. The boy returned her gaze. "I'll go," He said bravely, then descended the stairs.

Below on the plains, two columns of fire rose on either side of Alamare and Seth as they repeatedly bashed into each other at lightning speeds. The titan spells heated the air around the opponents, but neither appeared to notice. Both were wholly concentrated on each other. Seth appeared before Alamare, throwing a punch. The demon lord blocked it with a gloved hand, returning with a punch of his own. Seth ducked, coming back with an uppercut. Alamare bent backwards, moving his head out of the way as the fist sailed past him.

This all took place in a second, They were a blur to everyone else, their two shapes bouncing between the columns of fire. The flames died down and both sprinted in the same direction. Seth and Alamare kept pace with each other, only a little space between them. They suddenly converged, exchanging a series of blows that sent out a shockwave and clumps of grass.

Grace and Babi continued to stab spears against their opponents' limbs. Both women fought with similar styles, syncing up at times and putting the white figures on the defensive. They always were halted however. The corrupted continued to sprout limbs and flow around the grass, seeking out holes in the Saints' defenses.

"We'll never defeat them like this!" Grace yelled, forcing the white figure back with a barrage of light-spears.

"They're not slowing down!" Babi called back, spinning her spear into her enemy.

Grace glanced up at the sky, finding the five white balloon spiders hanging from the clouds. She pointed with her weapon. "There! We need to get to those things!"

"But how!" Babi called, bracing herself as the white figures rushed towards them.

In response, a light-show of lasers passed over the white spiders, originating from the Guardian ships. The balloon creatures came apart in pieces, raining the demon hordes with black blood and giant flakes of white. Grace and Babi watched as their opponents' skin blew away in the wind, revealing gaunt and weakened members of the Imperial royal family.

The Guardian ships continued in a line, with the leading vessels circling around. It was clear they were about to form a rotating line of red beams. The jewels on the ships glowed, heralding the next attack. Lyra gripped Donovan's arm as she watched wide-eyed on the viewing-spell. The young man simply stared with his vacant expression, slumped in his throne.

In a large, spherical chamber deep within the castle, Reqart stood staring up in awe at a series of crystals hanging from massive chains. Princess Ninja towered behind him, also staring up. Strange brass devices with cogs and copper wires trailed around the crystals, with a singular brass rod running through the length of them. Tokaroaka signaled a group of sorcerers, and a wall of chains released. The iron caused a racket as the chains ran up and down the wall. The wall on the opposite end rose, revealing the battle outside.

The crystals pulsed with a faint light. Tokaroaka cleared his throat behind his mask, motioning Reqart towards a series of smaller crystals raised up from the floor. They were held aloft on crystalline poles with wires running down the center. Reqart approached, glancing back at the sorcerer. Tokaroaka mimicked that the boy should grip two of the crystals. Reqart nodded, turning back and proceeding to do so.

Out on the battlefield, Alamare and Seth continued their dance. The air was now thick with dirt and debris from their movements, but neither slowed as they clashed into each other midair. Seth and the demon lord fell back to the earth, trading punches with each other that sent out steady waves of air.

They both landed, straightening up. Alamare breathed heavily, as did Seth. The demon lord took his arm and brushed away the sweat from his brow, grinning. "Today we find out who is the better disciple of the Demon King, my friend,"

"Demon King?" Seth said, clearly confused. "I'm just looking for an interesting fight. And let me tell you my friend, you're certainly obliging!"

Alamare straightened up, slowly working off his jacket. He paused, glancing at Seth with a wink. "Don't think I haven't noticed that ring,"

Seth was distracted by a beam of blue and white light erupting from Donovan's floating castle. It pulsed, then stabilized, then slowly worked its way across the sky. The circling Guardian ships tried to break formation, but were caught in the path of the beam. The bone-white ships exploded, plummeting down to the earth in flames.

Seth felt a fist drive into his stomach, then he hit the earth and slid backwards. Dirt and debris were thrown up as he formed a trench, coming to a stop against a mound of demon and infantry bodies. Alamare appeared above him, striking the earth with foot and knocking Seth into the air. The Demon Lord swiped with his arm, catching Seth by the wrist and dangling him there.

Around them, Guardian ships struck the earth, shaking the ground and sending out plumes of dust and fire. Alamare's clothing and hair were tangled in the wind, but he stood undaunted with a smile as he dangled Seth. The demon lord slowly closed his free hand around Seth's ring-finger, then violently ripped it off.

Seth tilted his head back and screamed in pain. Alamare dropped him, focusing on the ring as he turned the finger over in his hand. "I could feel it, this ring is one of power," More Guardian ships crashed to the earth around them, sending up a new wave of explosions and dust. Seth covered himself as the force of the shockwaves carried over them.

"Hey!" A voice yelled. Alamare turned to see Grace, Mark and Babi approaching. Grace skidded to a halt, pointing a gauntlet at the demon lord. "Get away from our friend!"

Alamare briefly looked down at Seth, then took the ring from the finger and threw the latter over his shoulder. He slowly lowered the ring onto his own finger, twisting it into place. Inspecting it, he smiled, then turned to the trio.

"Alright girls and magi, let's have some fun,"

He tried to take a step forward, but didn't. An expression of confusion crossed his face. "w-what?" Alamare said, trying to move. "I can't…."

Old, wheezed laughter built up around the ship-strewn grass. The last of the Guardian vessels crashed down, sending out a final wave of smoke and fire. As it cleared, an old man in tattered garments and a straw hat appeared a ways away from Alamare and Seth. The demon lord struggled to look over his shoulder at the old man, his eyes widening in rage once he did. "YOU!" Alamare yelled.

"That's right," The old man said, slowly approaching with a cane. "Me,"

"Oh hey!" Seth called, surprise in his voice. He tried to wave as he held his eye bandage over the stump of his missing finger.

"Hello again," The old man said, coming to a stop and nodding at Seth.

"How dare you interfere!" Alamare yelled, straining to keep his head facing the man.

"Ohh but you made it so easy! So obsessed with the Master's speed, thinking that was all that there was to his greatness. I bet you thought you might one day surpass him even?"

Alamare's eyes grew wider. "NO! I would never think such a thing!"

"Hmph," The old man said, coming to a stop behind Alamare. "Well, anyway, you're young, and easy to manipulate. I knew once you thought this one was a rival," The man jerked a thumb at Seth, who remained sitting on the ground. "You'd try and figure out the secret to his speed. A ring is such an easy answer, isn't it? It was only a matter of time before your own stupidity would take care of you. I predicated as much years ago, and now, here we are!"

"Why!" Alamare yelled. "We both serve the Demon King!"

"Don't give me that!" The old man roared, his voice sending the grass around Seth waving. "You are not FIT to serve the master! Playing around as Melody did, but worse, believing you can ever approach the skills of our master!"

Alamare trembled as he struggled against the power of the ring. "I only…meant, to kill the guardians, while they were in turmoil,"

The old man sniffed, inspecting the back of his hand. "The Demon King will deal with the Guardians, when he chooses to. But you will not be there to see it," The old man snapped.

"NO!" Alamare yelled. The ring glowed, and the earth opened up underneath him. The demon lord sank down into the darkness, yelling and cursing as he did. The earth closed up again, leaving no trace.

"whoa," Seth said, slowly getting to his feet. Grace and Babi approached cautiously. Seth turned to the old man, nodding. "Hey, thanks, you really saved me there,"

The old man smirked. "Do not think I did it for you," He turned, getting ready to leave.

"I'm going to miss that ring. It was nice being the fastest,"

The old man paused, looking over his shoulder at Seth. "Do not make the same mistake Alamare did. He believed true power lay in being the fastest, for when he looked upon our master, that is all he saw. But that was a mistake on his part. If you ever wish to approach the true skills of the first hero, you will need more than just speed, despite what I told you when we first met,"

Seth brushed off his jacket sleeves. "Still though, it sucks being useless now that I'm not fast,"

The old man smiled. "Remember at least one thing I have told you. Become the best at one skill, and it will spill over into other areas. You might be surprised to find out what else you are good at,"

"Huh," Seth said, crossing his arms. "Thanks man, that was a good pep talk,"

"You can call me Henrus. Henrus the Demon Lord. Perhaps if you are lucky, you will one day be worthy to challenge my master and lose magnificently," Both Grace and Babi pointed a spear at the old man as they stood on either side of Seth. Mark came up as well, putting a hand on one of his bells. A shroud of smoke drifted past Henrus, and the man disappeared with it.

On the floating castle, up in the throne room, the hall and columns were silent. Lyra stood next to Donovan as she watched the battle collapse. The Guardian ships were destroyed, and the Imperial demons were breaking up. She slowly let go of Donovan's shoulder, her fingers white.

"Master!" Tokaroaka called, rushing to the throne. Princess Ninja lumbered behind him, holding Reqart in both hands. Donovan rose, coming to the top of the steps.

"Reqart," He said, his voice quiet.

"He gave much!" Tokaroaka said excitedly. "I have the focusing crystals charging again. With all the mana they've collected, we should be ready to fire again soon!"

Reqart shifted in Princess Ninja's hands, slowly sitting up. He held his head, blinking. "Ohh, I feel tired," Princess Ninja grunted. The boy motioned for her to let him down. She obeyed, and Reqart shakily stood on his feet. Donovan watched silently from atop the stairs.

"The Empire's demons are scattered," Lyra announced, coming up next to Donovan. "And the Guardian ships are no more. We should turn our attention to the gate,"

Smoke swirled in the throne room, dissipating to reveal Mark, Seth, Grace and Babi. The four companions were smeared with dirt and blood, though they stood defiantly in the center of the chamber.

"It's over," Mark said, his voice echoing around the chamber. "Now we turn this all back,"

A clear voice rang out. "It's far from over," Princess Esymia said, coming to a stop before the throne stairs. A flash appeared above the Gate of Eo. A moment later, two columns surrounding the throne buckled, then split. Pieces of stone rained down, sending out a cloud of white dust.

A figure stood in front of the wreckage in the columns. It straightened up, revealing a fair elf in full plate armor. The armor glowed with blue runes, and in his hand he held a massive, glowing sword. His hair fell down around him as his eyes took in the room.

"Calstar," Princess Esymia said, bowing her head.

Grace was upon him in a moment, joined a second later by Babi. Calstar swung his sword, knocking them back with a gust, then his image flashed. He appeared in front of them, knocking them back again with a second swing. Both women rocked backwards, impacting against columns and cracking them.

"NO!" Reqart and Mark yelled at the same time.

"Stop him!" Tokaroaka yelled, pointing. A sea of robed sorcerers rushed forward, drawing their swords. The weapons flared with fire as they neared.

Calstar swung his sword once, knocking back a wave of them. He swung again, throwing up another group. He strolled forward, his hands flashing. The weapon followed, dicing up robed figures left and right. Their swords clattered to the floor, extinguished.

Knights and Montre guards were next. They swarmed around the throne, charging the armored elf. Calstar gripped his sword with both hands and began a series of attacks. He moved forward, dropping anyone who came in range of his blade.

A bell rang, then a series of shockwaves expanded through the throne-room. Calstar braced himself with his sword, taking the brunt of the sound waves as they crumbled stone and knocked down two columns behind him. The throne-room groaned, dislodged stone falling from the ceiling.

Mark held the bell in one hand, narrowing his eyes at Calstar. "Enough!" Mark yelled, lifting the bell ever-so-slightly. "We wish to talk!"

Calstar raised his chin in contempt, pointing his sword at Mark. "There will be no talking. I will kill you all and take back Esymia to Eo,"

"No brother!" Esymia yelled, taking a distressed step forward. "Our people are collapsing from within, don't you see it? You are pushing us to the brink of disaster!"

"It is you who have threatened everything!" Calstar roared. "You and our sister have both nearly doomed us! I alone have redeemed our line! I alone have done what needs to be done, and saved our people!"

Grace and Babi appeared on top of Calstar, raining down their weapons and spells. The room trembled as Calstar flashed his sword, then knocked them back. Both women landed on their feet, skidding along the stone.

"Enough!" Princess Esymia yelled, rushing towards her brother. "You may take me, please, just end this! There has been enough death already!"

"No!" Mark yelled, throwing out a hand. He reached for another bell, but Calstar pointed his sword at him. A bolt of lightning erupted from the tip, striking Mark and throwing him to the ground.

"FATHER!" Reqart yelled. "Princess Ninja, go!"

A massive blur flew past Reqart, coming down on Calstar in a moment. Princess Ninja delivered a series of blows in quick succession, then slammed her fists down. The armored elf blocked the large Rook's blows, then unleashed another bolt of lightning from his sword. It struck Princess Ninja and launched her back.

Calstar held out his hand towards Princess Esymia. "Come, we will leave this place. I'm taking the boy with me,"

"NO!" Mark yelled, struggling up. "We can talk! You don't need to take him!"

"He is a half-blood," Calstar said, his voice dripping with disgust. "But one of us none-the-less. It would not befit even one such as him to be out here among the rabble,"

"N-no!" Reqart yelled, rushing to Mark. "I won't go with you!"

Calstar approached him, holding his sword at his side. "You and my sister in exchange for the lives of everyone else, that is fair, don't you think? Know that you are saving your family,"

An expression of misery passed over Reqart's face. He looked down at his father. Mark clutched his chest where the lightning struck, looking back up at his son. "no," Mark whispered. "Don't…"

Reqart glanced up at Donovan, then slowly stood. He turned and approached Calstar. The armored elf nodded in approval, lowering his sword.

Donovan took a step down his stairs, then another. One foot after the other, he slowly descended. He opened his HUD, his hand lazily flipping through the menu selections until he reached the Passive Absorption page. His expression was vacant. He pressed a menu option, prompting a flash around his person. He glowed, then Donovan waved his hand and dismissed the HUD.

He reached the bottom, approaching Calstar. "Come with me," Donovan said, his voice quiet.

Calstar's face froze. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he slowly turned and followed Donovan. The entire throne room watched as the pair approached the opening in the columns. Donovan stopped by the edge. Calstar came to a stop as well.

Donovan gazed from the opening. The wreckage of the battlefield stretched out before him. Smoke drifted from tangles of crashed ships. Corpses littered the grass in uneven lines. The smell of death wafted up to the throne room.

"It's beautiful, isn't it," Donovan murmured, gazing at the sight. Calstar said nothing, sweat falling from his brow as his breathing grew ragged. Donovan nodded, as if to himself. "I don't know who I am anymore. I was just a guy, trying to get home. Now I'm a murderer," Donovan turned to Calstar, a look of concern on his face. "But I didn't mean to be a murderer! I didn't mean for any of it to hurt anyone! It was because we were the ones being hurt!" Donovan closed his eyes tightly, turning away. "But it doesn't matter, does it. My intentions don't matter, only what's been done," He slowly opened his eyes and looked over the battlefield. Thousands upon thousands of pilgrims cautiously approached the plains, picking apart the ruins and scavenging the remains of corpses. "So how do I make this right? What can I possibly do to move forward?"

Calstar tried to make a sound, his lips fighting against something. Donovan exhaled slowly, turning away from the scene. "I guess the only thing is to move forward and find out," He said, walking away. He paused, giving a disinterested look over his shoulder at Calder. "As for you, you can jump,"

Calstar's voice built up inside him as he bent his legs. He let out a primal scream of fury as he plunged off the ledge.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Princess Esymia yelled, rushing towards the opening.

Mark slowly got to his feet with Reqart's help. He stared at Donovan, his face horrified. "Donovan," He said as the Count passed. "What have you done,"

Donovan didn't reply as headed for the stairs. He was tired, and his mind was still clouded. He passed Tokaroaka, taking a moment to turn to the sorcerer. "Bring down the gate," Without another word Donovan began climbing the stairs.

The floating castle shifted, horns blowing from its ramparts. The remaining Vashn fleet fell into formation beside it, stretching out in a line. They circled up around the Eo gate, with the castle directly facing it.

"What has he done!" Grace yelled, rushing towards Mark. "He killed Calstar! The Guardian lines will be in chaos!"

Mark buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. "This is bad Grace, very bad,"

The castle shook, then a moment later a bright beam erupted from the middle of it. It struck the gate, beating into it with unrelenting energy. The warships joined in, activating their spells and unleashing fire.

"My brother," Princess Esymia said, slowly sinking down to the floor. "All is lost…"

"Whoa, what's happening now?" Seth said, looking around in confusion.

The castle continued to pour its beam into the gate. Waves of heat built up from the impact point. Grace grabbed Mark and hauled him to his feet. "We get Reqart and Esymia and we leave, now! We have to regroup with the others!"

"Yes, of course," Mark said, shaking his head and focusing. "Let's go," He took Reqart's arm and pulled the boy towards the columns.

Reqart resisted. "No father!" He said, pulling back. "Uncle is taking me to Eo!"

"It's not happening!" Mark yelled back, worry etched in his face. "We have to leave Reqart! The longer we stay here, the more of chance we risk drawing something far worse than the Guardian Border Fleet!"

"I'm not leaving!" Reqart yelled, pulling from his father's grasp. "I'm saving Mother!"

They were interrupted by a distant, loud explosion. Everyone slowly turned their attention to the view-spell. The floating glass showed an up-close view of the Gate of Eo. The entire structure collapsed like an avalanche.

Mark slowly let go of Reqart's arm, his own falling to his side. He watched the gate crumble in a daze. Grace and Babi watched as well, their eyes wide. The throne-room was silent.

"Master," Tokaroaka said, coming up to the base of the stairs. "We have brought down the gate. We may enter at any time,"

Donovan sat heavily in his chair and slumped, unresponsive. Lyra grabbed his hand and held it aloft. "He is not a Count, but a King! Hail, King Donovan!"

The officials and commanders gathered around the hall cheered. "HAIL, KING DONOVAN!"

"Ready the ships!" Lyra called, approaching the top of the steps and throwing out an arm. "We enter Eo this day!" The throne-room shook with sounds of approval, dislodging a few loose stones from the ceiling. Donovan sat in his chair and massaged his temples.

In the center, Mark stood, still in a daze. Reqart gently took his hand and started walking him towards the steps. The castle shifted, moving through the air. "Mark!" Grace yelled running towards him and stopping. "We need to go!"

Mark paused, seemingly waking up from a dream. He turned to her, his expression haggard. "He did it Grace. Donovan actually brought down the gate,"

"That doesn't matter!" Grace exclaimed, gesturing with her spear. "We need to go! We have to meet up with Justin and She-Joker and come up with a plan for what comes next! Calstar is gone and the Eastern Empire is about to collapse!"

Mark slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't,"

Grace's expression froze, her spear lowering. "What?" Babi and Seth came up on either side of her, stopping to watch Mark.

The man in the magi robes turned his gaze up to the viewing-spell. The destroyed gate of Eo grew closer as the fleet approached. He looked back to Grace, gazing into her eyes. "I have to enter Eo,"

"N-no," Grace said, taking a step forward. "No!"

Mark nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, but I have to find Gwelenaen,"

Grace shook her head violently. "No, you can't! You have to help us! We have to fix this world!"

"I'm sorry," Mark said, closing his eyes in pain and then opening them. "But I never thought I'd have this chance to reunite my family. I have to take this Grace. I have to bring Reqart's mother home,"

"NO!" Grace yelled, tears welling up in her eyes. "You can't leave us! You can't abandon us! We can still fix this world! Please Mark, tell me you still think we can fix this world!"

Silence followed. No one, not the servants watching, not Mark, said a word. Finally he met Grace's gaze and held it. "I'm sorry Grace, I don't know," He raised his hand, pointing a half-bent finger at the view-spell. "All I know, is if I enter Eo with Donovan, I might have a chance at seeing the woman I love again,"

"I love you!" Grace yelled, her voice echoing around the throne-room. Tears flowed freely down her face. "Gwelenaen wasn't there for you, she wasn't at your side all those years! It was me Mark! I stood by you in battle! I watched Reqart when you needed to rest! I held you when you were wounded and promised we would make things right together! And you always did the same for me!" Grace staggered forward, holding out a hand. "Don't do this Mark! Please!" She slowly lowered her hand, her voice growing strained. "Don't leave me…"

Mark stared at her, his face creased with lines of sorrow. Without a word he turned and took Reqart's hand. Together they climbed the stairs. Grace collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Babi and Seth both tried to help her up, but she just shook her head as she cried.

Donovan raised his head as Mark and Reqart reached the top of the stairs. Lyra stood beside his throne, her chin held high. Tokaroaka stood on the other side, his expression hidden behind his mask. Mark came up to Donovan, stopping in front of him with his son. He nodded. Donovan gazed up at him, then slowly nodded back. Mark and Reqart turned. Together, they, Donovan, Lyra and Tokaroaka all stared up at the viewing-spell as the entrance to Eo grew closer.

Outside, millions of pilgrims, soldiers and monsters streamed across the plains, forming a massive, unending horde of bodies.

Together, they all marched towards the forbidden lands of Eo.

​

 

[Lop]

​

 

[Lop]

The Day Donovan Woke From His Final Time Pass (Episode 3)​

Black smoke traveled across the land of Vashn. More poured forth from smoke-stacks, lazily rising to the sky and fueling the oppressive cover. A single Rook watched it from a slanted rooftop, her face hidden beneath a wooden mask marked with the symbols of a master. Her name was Missa, and she was the greatest of her kind. The leader of a great network of spies and assassins, feared throughout Vashn and the surrounding lands.

The Rook shifted, her feathered cloak billowing in a strong, ash-filled wind. Despite the mask, Missa couldn't help but cough. It was dangerous to stay on the rooftops too long. Many a builder had died of black lung, and Missa was just as susceptible if a blade or poison goblet didn't find her first.

With another cough, the shorter fairy creature turned. She hopped down to a window ledge, hanging off it and falling to a lower slanted roof. From there she made her way to a small balcony, vaulting over the side and landing on rotted wood. A less-experienced assassin would have elicited a groan from the material. Not Missa. She took quick but quiet steps across it, reaching a staircase and descending.

Waiting for her at the bottom were three other Rook. They all wore the same wooden masks as she, sans the markings of a master. They were also wrapped in the same feathered cloaks, a garment that had marked the tribe long before the days of their first enslavement by the lord of Vashn.

"Master," One of the Rook said, his voice cracking. "What of the merchant's towers?"

"Empty," Missa said, moving past the Rook. The others fell into step behind her, fanning out.

The Rook who had spoken adjusted his mask as he kept pace behind her. "Empty master? Surely the iron mongers are not so foolish?"

"They have grown arrogant," Missa said, her tone angered. "And think themselves safe in their forges. They will learn the truth today,"

The other two Rook snickered, one of them fingering the handle of a sheathed knife. "Oh yes they will," The nearest of them said. Her voice was bouncy and carefree.

"We will pluck their eyes from their head," The other said. Her voice was lower, almost a murmur.

"Beema, Devi," Missa said, pausing at an intersection in the street. A heavy cart rumbled by, pulled by two kral beasts. "Go and summon Crooked-Fang, tell him this is our moment to strike,"

The two female Rook bowed, then took off in a sprint. Their feathered cloaks trailed behind them. Missa was left alone with the male Rook. He watched her, lifting his mask slightly to itch his chin. "I do not understand master," He said. "We could take them ourselves. Why involve the Montre?"

Missa scanned the intersection. On all sides were houses crammed together like dark, wooden walls, rising up to three stories and beyond. The street itself was filled with denizens and slaves of Vashn. The denizens wore all manner of clothing, some rich, others barely rags. The slaves were naked save for loincloths, their cumbersome iron collars and brands marking their station. Everyone milled about. The sound of animals, voices, and a distant whip crack carried through the street.

"Concern yourself with matters of death Cob," Missa said, moving purposely along the cobbled surface. "And leave the tiresome dance of life to me,"

The male Rook, Cob, hastened to catch up to her. More than a few creatures watched the Rook as the pair passed, barely veiled hatred on their faces. "Ass-worn Rook!" A well-dressed Feyman shouted. "May a dagger find your back!"

Missa and Cob ignored him, turning neatly down a side-street and leaving the crowded avenue behind. "There was a time when they would not have dared slander us," Cob said, his voice angery under his mask. "Should I remember his face and see it, it will be his last day,"

"Idle threats buy little in any market," Missa said, pausing at another intersection. She peered down one street, then made her way along it, staying close to the buildings. "Let them talk. Our time will come,"

"It is the iron mongers and trade masters!" Cob said, shadowing her as she walked. "Once they are gone, they will learn to fear us again!"

Missa paused, turning slightly to look over her shoulder at the Rook. "Cob, your tongue discredits the great works of your blade. It is not the iron mongers, or the trade masters, or the powerful families of the south Mordor districts who have stripped us of our respect. We allowed this to happen, when we saw them getting fat with coin and convinced ourselves it was for the glory of the true master,"

"Praise be to him," Cob said, making the hero-gesture with one hand across his chest. The Rook Master continued, stepping over the corpses of several slaves laid out in the street for the corpse cart. Cob hastened to catch up. "And it was not you master who took their coin, but the traitor Rook Veyga,"

"It does not matter," Missa said, waiting as a group of priests passed by. "What's done is done, all we can do now is prepare for the Waking Day, and hope the true master sees our work and knows that we have been faithful despite the actions of our predecessors,"

The priests began humming one of their hymns as the last of them disappeared around a corner. The song drifted after them, giving pause to two merchants who spoke nearby. The hymn was one of the few beautiful things in the dark land. Cob's brow furrowed in confusion as he followed behind Missa. "Master, I would ask one thing, a thing I and others speak of often,"

"Hm, choose your words carefully Cob, I have already warned you I do not suffer the idle chat of foolish Rook,"

Cob continued, undaunted. "Is not the true Master's will is absolute? How can there by traitors like Veyga and the Iron Mongers, when the hero-lord of Vashn wields such power?"

Missa held up a hand, signaling Cob to stop. She gestured up at a nearby wall of houses. Together, the two Rook jumped up on a broken cart and climbed onto a narrow side-roof. They continued up, easily scaling past windows and faded timber. When they reached the top, Missa crouched down and took in the maze of streets and buildings. Cob knelt patiently behind her. Finally, the Rook master broke the silence.

"There are few who can hear the Master's voice and not obey. His words are law," Missa turned slightly, looking at Cob over her shoulder. "But the great one only wakes once every ten years, and he does not speak of everything. One such as Veyga need only convince themselves they serve his will, and as long as the master has not spoken against them, they may enrich themselves in their own way," Missa's voice grew darker. "And there are some here who have not known the hero-lord's power. He has not bound everyone's will, only those he considers worthy,"

"Shit draws the flies, and gold the greedy,"

Missa snorted. "You are quick with words of wisdom, it is any wonder you do not possess it. Now enough talk, keep watch for the Montre,"

The two Rook remained crouched, dark smoke building in the sky above them. The streets were filled with activity and noise. Missa filtered it out, concentrating on three massive stone structures several streets away. The buildings sat on individual hills, rising above the row houses. They were not the tallest, in fact their height was mostly due to the hills. But the structures were wide, with domed tops and the largest smokestacks in the land.

They were the seats of power of the iron mongers. Within were halls and chambers holding forges, slaves, and the riches of the masters of mining. And greed, and treachery. Missa had been waiting for this day for a long, long time.

"Master," Cob said. She turned, seeing him pointing at the streets below. Caped figures wielding tridents took up the entire width, numbering in the hundreds. They were the Montre, tall lizards and the enforcers of the Lord of Vashn. Without a word Missa ran down the roof, hopping down to a ledge and dropping the rest of the way. She landed silently in front of a doorway, straightening up before the Montre.

"Where is Crooked-Fang," She said. The Montre parted, revealing two lizards, as well as the Rook twins Beema and Devi. The first was Crooked-Fang, a muscled warrior with eyes that conveyed his intolerance for weakness and dishonor. The second was his son, the Unfeeling One, a Montre of unparalleled skill with polearms. He was both a leper, and blind.

"Rook," Crooked-Fang said, his tone carrying mild respect.

"Montre," Missa responded, nodding her head slightly.

Crooked-Fang adjusted his grip on his trident and gazed at the three massive stone buildings on the hill. "Where are the rest of your kind,"

"I only need Beema and Devi," Missa said. The two twin Rooks tilted their heads in acknowledgment, the more-spirited of the two letting out a giggle.

"Hmph," Crooked-Fang said, clearly unconvinced. "Shall it be Montre who die this day, while Rook stand by and watch?"

Missa gestured towards Beema and Devi, who came to stand on either side of her. "It will be Vashn assassins who clear the way for Vashn warriors. Yours is to kill the survivors," She turned to Devi. "Go, you and your sister may announce our coming with your blades,"

The two Rook took off, slipping easily through the grouped Montre and disappearing down a side street. Missa, as well as Crooked-Fang, watched them go. "You wish us to wait?" The Montre commander said, clearly impatient.

"No, let us approach," Missa said. "They shall hear the footfalls of your kin as they die hiding,"

With a snort, Crooked-Fang pointed his trident above the heads of the Montre, towards the three buildings. "March! Today we remind them of their true lord!"

The Montre banged their tridents three times on the cobblestone, then moved forward in a mass of capes and sharpened prongs. Above them, the windows of the row houses were shuttered, their curtains drawn tightly by the inhabitants. All who lived on the street knew that death was coming.

Crooked-Fang pushed past his fellow guards, reaching the front and taking the lead. His son, the Unfeeling One, as well as Missa and Cob, joined him. "I grow eager to see their faces," Crooked-Fang said, gripping his trident. "It has been too many days since I have washed my weapon with the blood of traitors,"

"Do not underestimate them," Missa said, drawing her feathered cloak to her. "They have hired their own mercenary guards, and there are rumors of sorcerers loyal to their coin,"

Crooked-Fang curled his lip back in disgust, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Then perhaps we should have dragged the sorcerer Tokaroaka here, to deal with his own kind,"

"He would not have listened to us. Beema and Devi will take care of the art users,"

"I agree with my father," the Unfeeling One said, running his fingers along the end of his trident. "You should have brought more Rook,"

Missa shook her head, keeping pace with the Montre commander and his son. "Beema and Devi are worth a hundred Rook. They have trained in the ways of death since they were taken from the womb,"

"We shall see," Crooked-Fang said, staring intently ahead at the buildings on the hills.

The street ended in a wide plaza filled with vendor tents and beasts of burden. The babble of voices slowly quieted as the Montre fanned out. Tents were collapsed and tables overturned as the mob of warriors made their way across the space. The lizards shoved the slower merchants aside with their tridents.

The plaza ended with a single stone ramp wide enough for almost four wagons. The ramp led up to the closest of the buildings. Crooked-Fang held up a fist, signaling the Montre to stop. He turned to his son. "Take as many as you need, split them between the other two palaces,"

"Yes father," The blind Montre said. He turned, raising his head. "Two hundred willing to follow me, bang your tridents!" Two hundred tridents banged the stone of the plaza. The Unfeeling One turned and marched his chosen warriors towards the other buildings.

A hundred Montre, as well as Missa and Cob, remained. Crooked Fang took a step up the ramp, cupping a claw to his mouth. "IRON MONGGGGGEERRRRRSSSSS!"

At the top of the hill was a stone wall ringing the building. A few figures could be seen scurrying across the ramparts. The flags depicting the iron monger's crests barely waved in the wind, as if holding their breaths. After waiting a few more beats, Crooked-Fang snorted and began climbing the ramp. Missa and the Montre followed.

Crooked-Fang and Missa stopped in front of three iron gates that led into the courtyard beyond. The Montre commander gripped his trident and banged it on the first iron gate, sending out a racket that echoed across the plaza behind them. "IRON MONGERS!" He roared. "OPEN THIS GATE, DO NOT MAKE ME WAIT!"

Missa could see across the courtyard to the double doors leading into the domed forge palace. One of them opened slightly, and a robed figure stepped out. Several more figures did as well, following the first across the courtyard. As they neared, tall, armored warriors wielding spears and shields appeared from behind the wall, standing on the other side of the three gates and facing Missa and the Montre. On the ramparts, more figures rose up, wielding crossbows. They aimed them down at the Montre filling the ramp.

The warriors parted as the robed figures reached the gate. The leader put a cracked hand to the bars, using his other to draw back his hood. A human male with braided hair and the medallion of an iron-monger speaker regarded Missa and Crooked-Fang. "Well," He said, his voice soft. "This is certainly an unexpected pleasure. Or perhaps not. What shall I tell my masters is the cause of your visit?"

Crooked-Fang gave the man a cruel smile. "Open this gate and we shall tell them ourselves,"

The speaker put a contemplative hand to his chin. "Hmm, I do not think that would be wise. We are conducting great works in these halls, and I think your tails might get in the way,"

The Montre commander gripped the gate with his free hand, his scaled claws turning white. "I will nail you to a wall and unspool your intestines from your body you waste of flesh,"

"Speaker," Missa said, her voice loud and clear despite her wooden mask. "Your masters have been found guilty of failing their stewardship granted to them by the one true master, as well as treason, against him, and all the land of Vashn. There will be no trial, the sentence is death,"

The speaker's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Oh? The Iron Mongers are not without allies. If you are to declare us traitors, you will need to do the same to at least half the ash lands,"

"Their time is coming," Crooked-Fang said, his voice low. He tapped lightly on the bars of the gate with his trident, clearly impatient. "But first we will start with you,"

Missa shifted, drawing back her feathered cloak to reveal a dagger. "Now open this gate, so that you may serve as a warning to these so-called allies,"

The speaker smirked. Before he could speak, one of the doors to the building was thrown open. A robed figure, his garments smeared in blood, stumbled out. He continued across the courtyard, his hood falling from his head and revealing a missing ear. A crazed expression was on his face. "FLEE!" He shouted, coughing up blood. "FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!" Several more figures emerged behind him, making it only a couple steps before they collapsed.

The speaker recoiled as the figure neared, then turned in shock towards Missa and Crooked-Fang. Missa slowly removed her mask, revealing her brown speckled face, as well as a smile. Crooked-Fang smiled with her, revealing his rows of sharp teeth. "Well?" The Montre commander said, his voice low. "What are you waiting for? Open the gate,"

The speaker took a step back, then looked up at the walls. "Soldiers! A volley! Then retreat!"

"Cob," Missa said. "With me,"

The two Rook shot up the wall with ease, their feathered cloaks billowing behind them. The crossbowmen flinched as the assassins cleared the ramparts. Missa drew two knives, as did Cob. The blades blurred as the Rook brought them up and down.

Missa and Cob moved in opposite direction, slicing tendons, stabbing gaps in armor, and dragging their blades across throats. The soldiers fired their crossbows, but the bolts hit their comrades instead of the assassins. The masked Rook were simply too short, and fast.

Crooked-Fang watched impatiently from the top of the ramp as corpses tumbled off the wall. One landed in front of him. He spat on it, then glanced through the gate at the Iron Monger speaker. "They won't be long," Crooked-Fang said, as if commenting on the weather. "Then we can proceed to nailing you to a wall,"

The speaker took a step back, glancing at the bodies near the entrance to the building. "What's going on!" He shouted at the wounded man.

"Demons," The man murmured, clutching his missing ear. He slowly fell to the ground, his face draining of color. "d-demons,"

Above on the ramparts, Missa and Cob finished off the soldiers. The Rook master drove her blade into the throat of the last one, gripping it and letting him slide off the end and down into the courtyard below. She wiped her knives on the tunic of the nearest corpse. Sheathing them, she made her way to the gate, meeting Cob. She nodded at the large wooden wheel, and together they began turning it.

The three gates groaned, then lifted. Crooked-Fang licked his lips with his forked tongue, waiting. When the gates had lifted, he marched through, leading the Montre into the courtyard. The mercenary warriors formed a shield wall, the speaker hastening to hide behind them. Missa and Cob watched as Crooked-Fang paused inside. He pointed a trident at the mercenaries.

"No survivors," He said, his voice low.

The Montre rushed forward, lowering their tridents. The mercenaries lowered their spears in response, but the first of the lizards leapt upon them, driving down their tridents and impaling past the shield wall. The rest of the Montre impacted against the line, driving them back. Again and again the lizards stabbed their tridents, laying low the enemy warriors and filling the courtyard with streams of blood.

Missa and Cob watched as the Montre killed the last of the soldiers. The Rook pair dropped down, landing silently. They approached the lizard warriors, stepping through the pooled blood. The Montre parted for them, opening a path to Crooked-Fang.

The commander was holding the speaker against one of the doors of the forge palace. He held out a hand as Missa approached. The Rook silently passed him two knives. Crooked-Fang took the first and drove it through the shoulder of the speaker, eliciting a scream of pain from the man. The Montre gripped the second knife and drove it into the other shoulder, then stepped back to inspect his work. The speaker remained pinned to the door, his face anguished. Crooked-Fang took his trident and stabbed it into the man's stomach, then ripped it back out with a vicious motion. The speaker's head sank as blood poured from his gut, a last dying gasp escaping his lips.

"It is a pleasure to watch you work," Missa said, her tone dry.

Crooked-Fang turned to face Missa "You kept me waiting," The Rook master said nothing as she led Cob towards the dark interior of the forge palace. Crooked-Fang and the other Montre followed behind her.

The inside was filled with corpses. Some lay slumped against the walls, others sprawled across the floor. The stones were smeared with bloody handprints and torn tapestries. Crooked-Fang sniffed at the smell of death as the group walked down the main hallway.

They entered into a wide, circular hall. A hearth flickered with dying embers in the center. Beema and Devi, the twin Rook, sat atop a table cleaning their knives. Around them were heaps of corpses. Some wore lavish garments, others, forge aprons. The Rook looked up as the group approached.

"Master!" Devi said, her voice cheery. She hopped off the table, her sister following slowly behind her. Devi stopped in front of Missa and the Montre, lifting her mask to reveal a beaming smile. "Did we do well?"

"Very well," Missa said, extending a hand and wiping a smudge of blood from the Rook's chin.

Crooked-Fang took in the hall, covering his nose from the stench with a claw. "Are there any left,"

"No," Beema said, her voice sullen. "I wished to leave a survivor, but Devi would not listen,"

The cheery expression on Devi's face fell. "Sorry,"

"No matter," Crooked-Fang said, turning and drawing his cape to him. "Come Master Rook, the high council meeting draws near, and I wish to present heads,"

Upon hearing the words, several Montre walked about the hall, bending down near corpses. They drew small knives from their waists. Missa watched as they began separating heads from bodies. "Come Beema, Devi," the master assassin said. "You as well Cob. We shall head to the Lord's Palace,"

The plaza was deathly silent as the Rook and Montre emerged from the gate. Dozens of wooden crosses had been erected among the collapsed tents. The Unfeeling One stood in the center as the Montre who had accompanied him hoisted corpses onto the crosses, securing them with rope. He turned as he heard Missa and Crooked-Fang approach.

"Father," He said, nodding.

"How many did we lose," The Montre commander said, stopping in front of the Unfeeling One.

His son's tongue forked out briefly. "A score, no more. The mercenaries had little fight in them,"

"Finish up here, I shall meet you at the barrack halls once the council meeting has ended,"

"Yes father," the Unfeeling One said, bowing slightly.

The streets were silent as Missa and Crooked-Fang walked them. There were few slaves or merchants about, word of the slaughter having quickly spread. Missa's Rook, as well Crooked-Fang's Montre, followed the two masters at a respectable distance. The lizard commander held a head under his arm as if it were a trophy, his other claw resting his trident across his shoulder.

"The others will not be so easy," He said, his voice low.

Missa sniffed, adjusting her wooden mask. "We have our work cut out for us. Though the master wakes soon, and during his judgement will likely order their executions,"

"Will you be the one to tell him?" Crooked-Fang said, his tone sour. "Or shall it be I?"

"I will if you will not, though the task of enforcing the master's will was given to your kind,"

Crooked-Fang curled his lip back. "Do not speak to me of tasks, I have never faltered in mine,"

The two fell into silence for the rest of the walk. Ahead of them, the palace district of the city of Mordor loomed. Six castles, with a seventh in the middle, rose up before them. The seventh was the tallest. Within it lay the meeting hall of the Vashn high council, as well as the slumbering body of the true master of the ash lands.

A large blackened, stone wall encircled the palace district. The gate was already raised, the entrance protected by the knights of the Order of Vashn. They parted as Missa and Crooked-Fang led their group through. On the other side were grand, tall houses, as well as the castles. The Rook and Montre headed for the central castle.

Upon entering, they passed through halls and corridors, finally reaching a wide staircase. Missa signaled for Cob and the twins to wait, and Crooked-Fang did the same to his Montre. The two masters climbed the stairs side by side as their followers watched them from the bottom.

At the top were two doors guarded by Montre. A single Faymen wearing a purple robe and a gold medallion stood between them. The Feyman nodded at the masters, turning to face the door as the lizard guards opened it. The robed figure led Missa and Crooked-Fang inside.

"Announcing!" The feyman yelled, his voice echoing. "Commanders Crooked-Fang and Missa!"

The two masters walked into a large stone chamber lined with tapestries and statues of the lord of Vashn. A table occupied the center. Sitting in high-backed chairs were a number of different creatures; Feyman, Uhnut, Orga and others, including a massive gargoyle. They were all dressed in decorative armor and fine clothing. Missa and Crooked-Fang came to a stop before the table. The Rook gazed at those gathered through her wooden mask.

"You're late," One of the Orga said, his voice carrying from the far side of the table.

In response, Crooked-Fang tossed the head he carried. It landed with a loud thud on the surface of the table, rolling to a stop in the center. "We had business in the city," The Montre commander said, walking around to his chair. Missa walked in the opposite direction to where he empty seat waited. The others watched in silence.

"What is this," A tall, grayed Pemu said, staring at the head. He wore a black robe, a golden medallion hanging from his elongated neck.

"The price of treason," Missa said, sitting atop the cushion on her chair. It made up for her lack of height, bringing her level with the others.

"The iron mongers have been punished for their greed," Crooked-Fang said, passing off his trident to a servant and sitting.

"Fools," An Uhnut said, scratching at his robe. "That you would carry out such deeds so close to the master's awakening. Do you not think he will punish you for robbing him of those who draw ore from the earth to feed his armies? Again I will say it, you are fools,"

"Better he wake to dead traitors than live ones," Missa said, her voice carrying an edge of warning. "Do not think I haven't noticed your comings and goings within the Iron Monger's forge palaces, Master of Coin,"

"How dare you!" The Uhnut exclaimed, indignant. "I will have you crucified for such words!"

The giant gargoyle shifted, letting out a low, rumbling growl. "Enough, I grow weary of your voices already. Let us begin,"

"Where is the sorcerer," Crooked-Fang said, glaring at a masked figure in one of the chairs. The figure shifted.

"My master extends his deepest regrets that he cannot attend this meeting in person," The masked figure said. "But he has much work to finish in preparation for the true master's awakening,"

An Erie woman with long, blond hair and nearly translucent pale skin clasped her hands atop the table as she sat straight in her chair. "Tokaroaka was absent from the last meeting as well," She said. "Perhaps you can shed light as to what keeps him away from his duty as a master,"

"He does not answer to Lyra, Master of the Estate," The masked sorcerer said, his tone haughty. "Only the Lord of Vashn,"

"Both of you still your tongue!" The large gargoyle said, banging a large fist on the table. "Sorcerer you will tell your master that if I am to come here, then so too will he," He glanced at Lyra. "As for you woman, you are barely worthy to sit at this table,"

Missa watched as Crooked-Fang's tongue forked in irritation. She remained silent, used to the trading of barbs that started every meeting. "Lower your voice Belok," The Montre Commander said, tapping a claw to the table. "You are no greater than any of us,"

"Lizard I will grind you to dust between my teeth,"

The exchange was interrupted as a tall Pemu priest entered. "Announcing!" The feyman attendant yelled. "The High Priest Haltetra!"

The Pemu came to a stop at the head of the table, raising his arms. He held a golden rod in one hand, pointing it towards the ceiling. On his head was a tall hat interlaid with jewels. He took in those at the table, glancing briefly at the decapitated head in the center. "Are we ready to begin?" The masters nodded, everyone falling silent. The priest lowered his rod, waving it in a pattern in the air. "We who serve the true master do beseech him this day, that he may look over us in his great slumber and guide our thoughts and words. We ask that the Lord of Vashn be true in his judgement, punishing the weak and blessing the strong. May he bring our land and our people to greatness. May we aid him in destroying his enemies, and enacting his will. May there be none who doubt his power, or his glory. May the one who defies him hang from the cross, may the one who slanders him be buried alive in the pit. To the prideful, may they be crushed under the wheel, so that the breaking of their bones brings pleasure to the master's ears. And to the faithful, may they enjoy the blessings of the true master, the Lord of Vashn, he whose true name we are not worthy to speak. Praise be that name,"

"Praise be his name," Missa said, her voice joining with the others as they spoke together. The Pemu priest bowed, then took his leave, the doors shutting behind him.

Crooked-Fang sniffed. "What is the first thing we are to speak of,"

The next three hours were spent with the masters discussing various issues, with many arguments breaking out. Missa remained silent, her eyes studying those at the table from behind her mask. There were many traitors speaking. Powerful merchants and warriors who had grown lax in their servitude. They would all be punished in time, when the opportunity presented itself. When they grew arrogant, thinking themselves safe, as the iron mongers had.

"Well then," the Master of Coin said, drawing the Rook's gaze. The Uhnut gestured at the head lying atop the table. "I suppose that leaves this mess Commander Crooked-Fang and the Rook have made. Who are we supposed to appoint master of mining now that the old have been slaughtered like beasts?"

"Do you desire the position?" Missa said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was quiet, though everyone listened when she spoke. Several masters exchanged glances.

The Uhnut cleared his throat, adjusting the hem of his sleeve. "I am needed in the treasury. The counting of coin is an endless task,"

"As is the fattening of your own purse, yes?" Missa said, fingering the hilt of her knife under the table.

"Do not think being a feared assassin protects you Rook," The Master of Coin said, narrowing his eyes. "You are far from the only one who can slip through the shadows. As of late, I almost think you unnecessary,"

Crooked-Fang curled back his lip, revealing his teeth. "The true master did not give you permission to hire assassins of your own, small one. Nor the rest of you," He gazed at the masters in turn. "Should I find any of your rats sneaking around the barracks, I will deliver them in pieces to your homes. Your own bodies will be torn asunder shortly after,"

The sorcerer yawned, lifting his grotesque mask to put a hand to his mouth. "Well then," He said, standing. "It seems this meeting is winding down, and I am not needed to appoint new iron mongers. I shall return to my master,"

The gargoyle Belok shifted, his massive form moving around the table. "I am leaving as well,"

"But we must appoint a new mining master!" The Master of Coin said, protesting with a raised fist. "There is an unending need for ore!"

"Give it to the woman," Belok said, waving a wing at Lyra as he neared the door. "She is small and weak, and will cause no trouble,"

"No," A finely-dressed Pemu said. "Give it to the merchant lord Malasev, it will quiet his protests and give him his desired seat at this table, however briefly,"

Crooked-Fang sniffed. "That one is trouble,"

"No, Master Jerl is right," The Order Master of the Knights of Vashn said. "Lord Malasev prances about this city as if he is already a master. Give him the chair and let him lose his head over it,"

The other masters shared looks. "Shall we put it to a vote?" The Master of Coin said.

"Bah," Crooked-Fang said, rising from his chair. He accepted his trident from a waiting servant, drawing his cape about him. "Put any fool in the position, I will kill them as soon as they step out of line," The Montre headed for the door, following Belok as the Gargoyle ducked through. Missa stood as well, quickly doing the same.

Belok was already gone as the Rook assassin reached the stairs, the doors shutting behind her. Crooked-Fang descended them. Missa hastened to catch up, siding up next to him. "I would have words with you,"

"Very well," Crooked-Fang said, reaching the bottom. "But make it quick, my son is waiting," His Montre parted, letting him and Missa through.

"The Master of Coin spoke truly when he talked of other assassins. Our clan has been dishonored, as well as disrespected. The other masters think their own shadow-blades are equal to us,"

The Montre commander headed for the main hallway, his cape billowing behind him. Cob, Beema and Devi followed behind Missa. The other Montre, behind Crooked-Fang. "That is your problem Rook," The lizard said, his tongue forking out.

"It is all our problem," Missa said. "My tasks and duties lie outside these lands. To lay low kings and courts who would oppose our master. I cannot keep an eye on my back, and the backs of my people, as I do such things,"

Crooked-Fang came to a stop, turning and towering over Missa. "And what would you have me do little assassin? Chase shadows?"

Missa didn't respond for a few moments. Both her Rook and Crooked-Fang's Montre watched their leaders, keeping a respectable distance. "I have found no loyalty that matches my own among the other masters," She began, her voice quiet. "Save for you, Crooked-Fang. You greatly desire the will of the master. I would almost think you an ally in this task of ridding Vashn of traitors,"

The Montre commander took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he gazed down at Missa. "Perhaps little Rook. Perhaps not. I trust no one but myself and my kin. Today was a good day in service to the true master, but I am not yet convinced you are not simply trying to redeem your people. We shall continue as always, and time will tell if you are my equal,"

The two stared at each other, silence gripping the hall. Heavy footsteps interrupted them, drawing Missa's and Crooked-Fang's gaze. A robed Orga appeared around a corner, his eyes wide. "Master Rook!" He yelled. "Master Montre! The True Master has awoken and summoned his servants!"

Missa and Crooked-Fang shared a look. "It's time," Crooked-Fang said, narrowing his eyes. "The day of judgment is upon us," Missa nodded in response, and together they rushed down the hall.

After a series of stairs and corridors, two massive, wooden doors appeared. They were opened by armored knights. Crooked-Fang entered the hall, his cape sweeping about him. He was flanked by Missa, as well as several other officials who had joined them. "Master," Crooked-Fang declared. "We are gladdened that you have returned to us. Will you be making the traditional judgement of our works?"

A bemused voice traveled across the great hall. "I'm sure you did fine," A young man sat lazily upon the throne, a smile on his face. "Get ready though," He said, his smile growing. "Because the next stages of me and my friends' plan is going to get crazy,"

 

[Lop]

Light swirled together, flashing once and dissipating. Slowly, an orb pulsed into existence, its interior filled with color. It expanded, growing larger and larger as the colors spun. The orb glowed, the hues and shades taking form. The colors solidified into an image. Mountains appeared within, rising up into the clouds. They formed a wall expanding in either direction. A single gate occupied the center, collapsed into itself with a gaping hole in the center.

Hundreds of robed figures peered up at it, watching the image within the orb. The faces of those staring were cast in shadow from the hoods pulled over them. The watchers stood in a hall that could easily fit a small castle within. The walls that circled around them were made of a glossy black stone, with long, flowing calligraphy carved into its surface. None of the figures spoke, the hall gripped in silence.

A single robed man slowly made his way along a black stone ledge that protruded into the center of the hall. The ledge stopped directly below the orb. The other robed figures watched as the man reached the end. He held up his hands, then pointed a finger at the image of the mountains and the ruined gate.

"Guild Masters!" He yelled, his aged voice echoing through the hall. "Behold, the gates of Eo have fallen!"

As if breaking a spell, the robed figures began speaking all at once. Many shouted, trying to make their voices heard above the others. There was panic, anger, but most importantly, excitement. The robed man stood at the end of the ledge, taking in those gathered below. Finally he held up his hands, and the voices died down to a dull murmur.

"Such a thing has never happened in the history of our guilds," He said, glancing up at the viewing orb. "And by a hero, no less,"

"The anti-hero!" A robed figure yelled. Again hundreds of voices broke out in shouts and cries. The robed man kept his hands raised, waiting. When the volume and echoes receded, he continued.

"It is true, the hero known as Count Donovahn of Vashn has caused this, and now we, the masters of the Adventure Guilds, must decide what we shall do!"

A man among the crowd raised his fist, his voice booming. "Condemn him!" Many shouted in agreement.

"Censure him!" Another yelled. This too was met with cries of agreement.

"Banishment!"

"A bounty! Put a bounty on his head!"

The voices threatened to overwhelm each other. The man on the ledge gestured for order. "Masters, masters! Have you forgotten?" Everyone quieted. The man pointed at the orb, displaying the mountains and the ruined gate. "Put aside for a moment your anger at the anti-hero. What shall we do now that the lands of Eo lay open to the world?" This question induced a deathly silence around the hall. Murmurers began to course through the assembly. The robed man watched them from his vantage point, continuing. "These are the forbidden lands, the resting place of the ancient ones! Untold power lies within! Monsters not seen since the dawn of time! Riches and great cities ruled by the Guardians! Laid bare for any who would make the journey!" The man stomped his foot on the ledge, balling his fists in the air. "And the anti-hero of Vashn marches an army to seize it all!" This was met with cries of anger and alarm. "Tell me masters, what say you!"

Many voices rose up at once, but the loudest of them drifted up into the arched ceiling of the hall. "We must call a crusade!"

This was quickly joined by others. "Yes, a crusade! Call a crusade!"

"Crusade!" The shouting increased, turning into a chant. "Crusade! Crusade! Crusade!"

"SILENCE!" The robed man bellowed, leaning over the ledge at those below. The chant died. The man took a deep breath, gazing at the hundreds of gathered masters. "Before me are the great leaders of a thousand guilds, hailing from across Lysseria! Never in the history of our order have so many existed! Never in our history have so many adventurers pledged themselves to us, paid us their dues, and swung their swords for the bounties we give! A crusade has not been declared for over a century! And to call upon the millions of adventurers, from copper rank to diamond, would leave these lands without their courage! Think carefully my brothers and sisters! What say you to this!"

The voices erupted, echoing around the hall. "CALL IT!" They yelled. "DECLARE A CRUSADE!"

"DEATH TO THE ANTI-HERO!"

"SEND THE ADVENTURERS TO EO!"

"CRUSADE!"

The voices increased until they became unintelligible. The man on the ledge waited, clasping his hands in his robe sleeves. When the declarations subsided, he held out his hands. "So be it then. I, Grand Master Teodoras Vallentithe, elected by the council and recognized by those gathered here, hereby declare the 3rd crusade! We condemn Count Donovahn the anti-hero and all who stand with him!" Cheers rang out, the hoods of the robed figures slipping from their heads. Members of every species revealed themselves, their face contorted with emotion. "Call upon the members of your guild!" The Grand Master yelled. "Every adventurer in the lands, of all ranks and from every nation! Call them fellow masters! Summon their steel and spells! We shall have our crusade and seize the lands of Eo for our guilds!"

The cheers increased, many stomping the glossy black floor and shaking the hall with noise. The chant resumed, growing and growing. "CRUSADE! CRUSADE! CRUSADE!"

Grand Master Teodoras Vallentithe brought his hands together, gazing over the assembly. Above him, the orb slowly rotated, the mountains of Eo waiting.

​

Donovan Ebert sat in his throne atop the floating castle known as Utan-Gora. He was a young man dressed in fine clothing and a cape. His figure was slouched, as if he were trying to receede into the high back of his chair. Donovan's brow was creased, his expression dark. Before him was the circular chamber that marked the top of the castle. It was lined with columns, though several were destroyed, threatening to bring down the whole structure.

Despite the danger of collapse, scores of figures were gathered in the center. They stood in a circle around the tall stairs and platform that Donovan's throne rested upon. The figures were dressed in all manner of fine robes and armor. Some gazed up at him, though most stared through the spaces in the columns at the land beyond.

Donovan was not alone atop the stone platform. On one side of his chair stood a young woman in a luxurious, pulsating dress. Her skin was translucent, her long hair shimmering from blonde to white. The woman's name was Lyra, an Erie who's ring-laden hand rested on Donovan's shoulder. On the other side of the throne was a young boy dressed in simple clothing and a cloak. He hair fell in curls around his head, framing an angelic face that was wholly concentrated on the view beyond the columned chamber. His name was Reqart, and he held the hand of his father standing next to him. His father's name was Mark, slightly older than Donovan and wearing an intricate robe with a sash. The sash held bells of different sizes and materials. Mark idly scratched the stubble on his face as he gazed in equal concentration at the land beyond the castle.

Utan-Gora, the floating fortress, made its way slowly towards a wall of impossibly-high mountains. It passed over a ruined gate, entering into the lands known as Eo. Surrounding, the castle were over two-hundred airships of black metal and wood, and behind them, airborne transports fanned out in a loose formation. Below the armada marched over a million figures. They were creatures and people of every species and race from the surrounding lands. Young, old, peasants, merchants, they were as varied and unending as a sea of infinite color. Their footsteps and voices drifted up, reaching the floating castle and the columned chamber.

The young man, now called King Donovan by those gathered around his throne, was troubled. Many had died by his decrees, and many more enslaved. All this weighed heavily on his heart as he watched the land of Eo open up before him. He did not consider himself an evil man, but his actions had revealed he was in fact a monster. Donovan could not bare the thought of what he had done during his reign, and now he had no choice but to continue forward into the ancient and powerful lands of Eo.

For it was Donovan who had destroyed the gate leading into it, and it was he who had gathered over a million desperate people to march with his armies. There was no turning back now. Only in moving forward might he find a way to make right what he had done. Though, in the darkest depths of his heart, he knew nothing could bring back the generations he had condemned to enslavement and death. Few found mercy for tyrants, and he was now among the worst.

"Mark!" A voice yelled, drifting up to the platform and those gathered upon it. Donovan's murky thoughts cleared as his eyes sought out the source of the voice. A woman stood tall at the bottom of the steps, dressed in plate armor and covered by a blue cloak. In one hand she gripped an intricate spear. Her name was Grace, known by many as Saint Grace the Vigilant. Next to her stood a young woman with long black hair and long black robes, as well as armor covering her arms and shoulders. She was Babi, a former saint raised as a little sister by Grace. On the other side of the two women stood Seth. His features were obscured by a scraggly beard, and his eyes by a white bandanna with a red circle painted in the center. Seth, as well as Grace, were both friends of Donovan's.

Or they had been, once upon a time.

Mark made his way to the top of the stairs, looking down at Grace. He didn't answer her, his face creased with a pained determination. Grace held his gaze, equally determined. "If you should choose this path," She said, her voice quivering with emotion. "If you stand with Donovan and what he is about to do, I will have no part in it. I will not trespass into Eo with you Mark. I'm leaving, to find She-Joker and Justin. Together we will decide what is to be done," She took a deep breath, continuing to hold his gaze. "I cannot guarantee it won't be to stop all of this. I cannot guarantee we won't be enemies!"

"Grace," Mark began, softly.

"No!" She shouted, her voice echoing around the columns. "Do not try and defend your actions! You lead yourself and Reqart to death! I will not be here to watch it!" Silence gripped those watching. Grace slowly turned her gaze to Donovan. "As for you, come down here and speak with me before I go. It is long overdue,"

Donovan slowly rose, his cape falling down around him. Reqart took a step forward, letting go of his father's hand to clutch the cape. "Uncle! Don't be mad!"

"I'm not mad," Donovan said, his voice barely above a whisper as he paused. "It is time we talked, Grace and I,"

"I'm coming too," Reqart declared, letting go of Donovan's cape and walking to the stairs.

Mark moved as well, putting a gentle arm in front of the boy. "Reqart, this is between adults,"

"He's right," Donovan said, taking in the crowd gathered around the throne. He turned back to Reqart. "Stay here,"

The boy froze, a panicked look on his face. Donovan realized he had just compelled Reqart using the power of his voice. The young man's heart sank, remembering the new raw power of his abilities. Kneeling down by Reqart, Donovan stared into his eyes. "I'm sorry, you can do whatever you want," The boy relaxed, released from the spell. "If it would be alright with you," Donovan continued, choosing his words carefully. "I would like it if you stayed here, with your father Mark. Is that okay?"

Reqart's face was gripped by defiance. His father's hand found his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Mark seemed unaware that Donovan had compelled his son, simply thinking it was a tense exchange. Finally Reqart turned away and narrowed his eyes. "I don't like it when Aunt Grace is mad at people. I don't like it when you are either Uncle. I don't want you and her to fight,"

"We won't," Donovan said, giving him a weak smile. He straightened up and turned to the stairs.

Mark patted his son's back and moved past him. "Donovan, I'll come, we all need to tal-"

"No!" Grace yelled, unable to mask the hurt in her voice. "Not you Mark…" She squeezed her eyes tightly, glancing away. When she stared back up, it was with renewed determination. "Just Donovan,"

"My king," Lyra said, taking a step forward. "Tread carefully with the Saint, I will tell Crooked-Fang-"

Donovan descended the steps. "I am no king," He said, his voice traveling over his shoulder and interrupting her.

He heard Lyra starting after him. "Allow me to be at your side then,"

"No," Donovan said. "Stay her-" He stopped, wincing. He tried again, mindful of the power of his voice. "You are not bound to me any longer, though I would like it better if…you did not accompany me,"

Lyra paused at the top of the stairs. "Very well," She said, her voice demurred.

Donovan took slow but purposeful steps down the stairs. Grace waited at the bottom, watching him with her head raised. She was flanked by Seth, who seemed distracted by his bandanna, as well as Babi. The former saint also stared at Donovan, her expression as defiant as her older sister's.

As the young man reached the bottom, Grace turned without a word and crossed the chamber. Babi followed, though Seth seemed uncertain of what he should do. The gathered creatures parted for both women. Donovan walked behind them, passing Seth who held out his hand. The young man paused, staring uncertainly at the gesture.

"Crazy couple days, huh," Seth said, lifting his bandanna and revealing his eyes. Donovan slowly took his hand, watching as Seth gave it a single shake. "I know I said this before, but it's good to see you again,"

"We'll see," Donovan said, moving past him.

He followed Grace and Babi to an opening in the front of the chamber. There weren't as many columns by design, allowing a natural window to the lands beyond. The floating castle was reaching the end of the ruined gate. Beyond, a narrow strip of flower fields led to tall, jutting hills. The hills were covered by purplish and silver trees that seemed to sparkle. Grace stopped by the opening, gazing out at the distant hills. Babi stood next to her, watching Donovan with a piercing stare.

Donovan stood behind her, waiting. The silence stretched, the tension between the trio palpable. Distant birds called out to each other near the hills, though their cries were unlike anything the young man had ever heard. Melodic, and with hints of harmony. Grace turned to him, her expression one of stone.

"Do you understand what you have done," She said, her tone low.

Donovan nodded. "I do,"

Grace's grip on her intricate spear tightened. "No, I don't think that's true. Do you still think this is a game?"

"No," Donovan said, shaking his head. "I don't know what this is. Not anymore,"

"Allow me to tell you then. This world is everything you see, and so much more. You are marching poor and desperate people, real people with lives and hopes and sorrow, into a death trap. Everyone in this room you will get killed," Her eyes narrowed. "Including Mark and Reqart. You already have much on your conscious, yes? Have you had time to grapple with what you are responsible for? Are you prepared for their deaths to be added to your ledger?"

Donovan's voice was soft, cracking as it came. "And what would you have me do Grace? Turn back? Tell everyone to go home? Find a quiet place and hang myself?"

Babi tilted her head, as if curious. "Perhaps you shoul-"

"Babi," Grace said, her voice stern. She turned back to Donovan. "I do not care what you do. The world is falling apart around me, and I am not enough to fix it. But you are taking people I love with you, and that…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced away. Finally she stared back into Donovan's eyes. "You know now that you are wrong, and yet you continue in your ways. For that, you have damned yourself. But what I will not forgive you for, is that you drag others down with you,"

Despite himself, a small, tiny smirk tugged at the corner of Donovan's mouth. "And here I was, plagued by the death of millions. Yet you are only concerned with two,"

"Do not tell me what I am concerned with!" Grace yelled, angered. "I cannot bring back the dead anymore than you can! All I can do is fight for what is in front of me, and save who is left despite your actions!"

Donovan didn't answer for a moment, Grace's words hanging in the air. "Is that it then," He said, his voice soft. "Are we to fight?"

Grace sniffed, turning away from him to gaze out at the distant, sparkling hills. "I can see it in our future. We will likely fight, and I will kill you. But not yet," She turned back to him. "For now I must find She-Joker and Justin, and tell them what has happened. Together we will save this world, either by fighting as we have, or finding you again and ending your life,"

"I'm not your enemy Grace," Donovan said, his voice pained.

"You are an enemy to the world, and I am the world's protector. That makes us mortal enemies, Donovan,"

The young man took a deep breath, slowly gazing out at the land beyond the floating castle. "Why didn't you stop me earlier," He said, his voice distant. "I slept for ten years, and when I awoke, there was only a single message from Mark. You knew what I was doing in Vashn, what I had done already. You knew my plans, they were your plans once upon a time," He turned his head, staring into Grace's eyes. "So what were you doing all that time? Mark told me of demon lords, did your fight really take ten years? Were you really so surprised when I spilled out of my Mordor kingdom with my armies?"

"You will never understand what has happened," Grace said. "What I and the others went through. You met Bri, she has lost her mind. She was hunted by a demon lord, as were we. But Babi and I, and Alyssa and She-Joker, we got the worst of it. Melody tormented us for days as she chased us down. We barely escaped with our lives. After that, things only got worse. Kaylee has not been seen or heard from in ten years. Seth may seem like he is okay, but he is only a hair's breadth away from spiraling into darkness he will not return from. Alyssa has also been gone for almost six years. She has taken on the responsibility of finding Kaylee herself. We have not heard from her either in that time. She-Joker-"

"Melissa," Donovan said, his voice soft.

"She-Joker," Grace said, her tone stern. "She is not Melissa anymore. She has lost her mind as Bri has, but in a different way. She still has love and compassion in her heart, more than I will ever have. But not in a way you or anyone else will understand. I do not think she even understands herself anymore," Grace shifted her spear to her other hand. "Do you understand? You were not the only one that was lost. All of us are slipping away. We are losing this fight Donovan, the entire world is set against us. We have no one to blame but ourselves. And now you are here, driving the final nail into this world's coffin. You have finished off the Kingdom of Delfanas and the Eastern Empire, the two greatest powers on this continent. They are now at the mercy of whoever will come in and take them." Grace raised her chin, regarding Donovan with a fiery gaze. "So tell me, what are you going to do once you enter Eo? What are your plans now?"

A voice rang out, clear and defiant. "He is going to destroy Eo, and all who reside within,"

Donovan turned, spotting Lyra approaching. She was flanked by Crooked-Fang, commander of his forces, as well as the master of his sorcerers, Tokaroaka. Mark was also present, though he stood apart from them.

"Quiet," Grace said, narrowing her eyes. She refused to look at Mark, instead staring at Lyra.

"You do not give orders here hero-saint," Crooked-Fang said, his tone carrying an edge of warning. "You are in the presence of King Donovan, and you will show him his proper respect,"

Grace snorted, giving Donovan a withering look. "See what you have done to them? They believe you are going to destroy this world. Is that your plan? Perhaps I should kill you now,"

"He's not going to destroy Eo," Mark said, his voice quiet. "I will not allow it Grace,"

"You are a fool Mark!" Grace shouted, turning on him. "Do you really think you alone will stop Donovan?" She glanced at the young man. "Well? Tell me here and now, what will you do inside these lands?"

Donovan didn't respond. He didn't know the answer. He was hardly in control of his emotions or actions. Not anymore. Lyra came up beside him, standing with Donovan. "He will do as he wishes, and he wishes to end the suffering of this world,"

Grace's shoulders lifted and fell as she struggled to control her breathing. "Donovan, if you do not make a choice, the choice will be made for you. And it is always the worst of them that is chosen," She glanced over the heads of those in front of her. "Seth! I'm leaving! What are you doing?"

Seth approached, casually walking as if nothing was amiss. "I gotta say," He said, itching the back of his neck. "I'm a little lost here. But I'll come with you, I told Justin and She-Joker we'd meet up again, and I want to hear what they found,"

Grace nodded approvingly. "Good," She turned, Babi moving to do the same. "Not you Babi,"

"What??" Babi said, incredulous. "Of course I'm coming with you!" Grace leaned in towards the young woman, whispering at length in her ear. As she listened, Babi's expression changed from surprise to resignation. Finally she nodded as Grace straightened up. "Okay…I'll stay, for you,"

"We will not allow it," Lyra said. "Do you think us stupid? All of you leave,"

Babi flicked her wrist, summoning a spear made of light. "You're welcome to try and stop me. I'm not going anywhere,"

Donovan turned away, his mind swirling with emotion. "I would ask," He said, glancing from Lyra, to Crooked-Fang, to Tokaroaka. "That if you could find it within yourselves to allow such a thing, that she could stay,"

Crooked-Fang furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why do you speak in such a way my king? Your words are law,"

"You do not need to ask our permission," Tokaroaka said, his expression hidden under a grotesque mask.

"I do, actually," Donovan said, walking away. "I no longer find pleasure in giving orders," He paused, glancing over his shoulder at his servants. "For no one can say no to me. Not anymore,"

He felt the eyes of everyone on him as he walked back to his throne. "Seth," Grace said, her voice carrying through the hall. "We're leaving,"

"Grace," Mark began. He never finished. The sound of a great wind picked up. Donovan turned to watch Grace and Seth lifting up from the floor, held aloft by a swirling gale. The hero-saint gave a final, hateful glance at Donovan, then a barely veiled look of pain to Mark. The gust strengthened, carrying the pair between the columns and out to the world beyond.

Donovan watched them until they disappeared. Before he could turn to his throne, Tokaroaka approached. The sorcerer paused, adjusting the hem of his sleeve. "My king,"

"Though the choice is yours," Donovan said, his voice subdued. "I would prefer if you didn't call me that,"

Tokaroaka hesitated, then nodded. "We should make camp on the fields, before we reach the hills. There are over a million souls below us, and all will be hungry soon,"

"We must plan my king," Crooked-Fang said, walking and stopping next to the sorcerer. "None know what lies ahead in these lands,"

Donovan exhaled slowly. "Very well, that sounds fine to me. How have we been feeding our forces so far?"

Tokaroaka made to speak, but Lyra brushed past him, interrupting the sorcerer. "We brought food with us, but it is running low. The soldiers can forage in these lands, but as for the people who came to us, they will be able to feed themselves for a day from what they scavenged from the battle outside of Eo,"

"And after that?" Tokaroaka said, his tone a challenge.

"After that," Lyra said, fixing him with a glare. "We will see what bounty the lands of Eo offer us, and give it to them,"

Crooked-Fang snorted, gripping a trident in his hands. "That will not work woman, you cannot possibly expect all those below to feed themselves by picking berries. If such things will even be found in these lands,"

"Eo is a bountiful land," A clear voice rang out. "A paradise. One you are about to defile,"

Donovan turned, spotting princess Esymia. He had not seen her for some time. The elf princess was a member of the Guardians, the residents of Eo. Runes glowed softly on her skin, fading after every pulse.

"So you're saying that we will find food for them," Donovan said, nodding. "Very good,"

"Food yes," Esymia said, her expression calm and unreadable. "But for every fruit you pick from the vine, you may find something far worse hiding in the bush. This land is not meant for outsiders, and will react accordingly,"

Donovan didn't respond to these words, turning away instead. "We will make camp then, in the fields. Spread the word,"

"At once my king," Tokaroaka said, bowing his grotesque mask.

"Father!" a voice said. Reqart ran up, stopping by Donovan as Mark approached. "Where did Aunt Grace and Uncle Seth go? Why did they leave?"

Mark reached his son, putting reassuring hands on his shoulders. "It's complicated Reqart, all of us are dealing with a lot,"

The boy struggled with the words, his expression worried. Finally he came to a decision, his face falling. "I was hoping everyone would come with us…"

Mark gave him a tired smile. "They will likely return. Don't worry for now,"

Reqart's stomach growled, prompting the boy to put a hand to it. "May we eat now?"

"Of course," Mark said. "Donovan, I know food is running low, but is there some you could give us? I can forage myself, if need be,"

"Don't worr-," Donovan began, then shook his head. "I am sure we have plenty of food. I will order a table set,"

"Babi and Princess Esymia usually eat with us," Reqart said, grinning. "And Uncle Donovan has amazing food from our home!"

Mark fixed Donovan with a puzzled stare. "Our home?"

The young man glanced away. "I was preparing Reqart for our return to earth. Though now it seems idiotic,"

"Come on!" Reqart said, pulling at his father's hand. "I want to show you soda! You too Princess Esymia and Babi!"

Babi silently approached, standing next to Mark and Reqart. She studied Donovan, her expression unreadable. He refused to meet her gaze.

"My king," Lyra said, also approaching. She stood next to Donovan. "I am the only one among your servants not bound by your will. I would ask that I eat at your table, by your side. As I will always be,"

Lyra found Crooked-Fang's trident rising up to her chin, its prongs held close to her throat. "You forget yourself," The Montre commander said, his voice low. "None would ever dare ask such a thing, or be foolish enough to consider themselves worthy to sit with our king. Speak again in such a way, and it will be the last words to leave your mouth," Crooked-Fang turned, nodding at Donovan. "Command it my master, and I will punish her for her folly,"

"No," Donovan said, his words barely above a whisper. "It's fine. I'm tired, and hungry myself. Crooked-Fang, I would like it if you saw to our causalities, and prepared a report on what all we lost in the last battle. Tokaroaka, can I ask you to send out spies and scouts, so we do not proceed blindly?"

"Of course master," Tokaroaka said, bowing his head.

Lyra shared a charged look with Crooked-Fang. The lizard's tongue forked out of his mouth, his eyes narrowed. "Yes my king," He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the young woman. "It will be as you say,"

The commander and sorcerer left, leaving Donovan with Reqart, Mark, Lyra, Princess Esymia and Babi. "If you wish it," Donovan said, turning towards a distant staircase. "You may all join me in the dining hall,"

"Hurray!" Reqart said, pulling on Mark's hand. "Come father, I can't wait to show you everything!"

Once in the dining hall, Donovan slowly took his seat on one end of the table. Lyra instructed the servants to pull a chair up next to him, and sat in it with perfect posture. She took Donovan's hand, resting it in hers on the table. The young man didn't bother to take it away, his mind heavy with what the future held.

Reqart sat at the corner of the table on one side, Mark joining next to him. Princess Ninja, a mutated Rook under Reqart's control, waited behind them against the wall. Her arms and chest were bandaged, having been wounded in a fight with a powerful elf prince. Princess Esymia sat across from the Reqart at the other corner, Babi next to her. It was strange having everyone crowded on one end. Donovan could feel a slight tension in the air, but ignored it.

"Father," Reqart said, kicking his legs under his seat. "Where are they holding mother?"

Mark briefly glanced at Princess Esymia. "That's a good question. I'm not sure myself. This is the first time I've entered these lands. From what your Aunt Esymia says, there are several places she could be,"

"It will be difficult," the princess said, clasping her hands in her lap. "Since your Uncle killed my brother, the Guardian kingdoms will be in chaos. She may already be dead,"

"Esymia," Mark said, his tone stern. "Do not speak in such a way to your nephew. Or about your own sister,"

The elf princess glanced away briefly, as if it could not be helped. "I have resigned myself to the slow death of my family, as well as my people. It would be wise for you to do the same,"

"She's alive," Mark said. "And we will find her," He turned to his son with a smile. "Don't worry Reqart, we won't stop until she's with us again,"

Reqart nodded, though his expression was uncertain. They were interrupted by the arrival of cooks. The servants wheeled in carts with silver platters and glass decanters. Donovan watched as plates were set before everyone. He turned to the elf princess. "When I asked before, you were not forthcoming. Now I am more serious, as I understand this world a little better. What can we expect in these lands?"

"I already told you," Princess Esymia said, waiting as a servant poured her a glass of wine. She brought the goblet delicately to her lips, sipping it and setting it back down. "The Guardians will not suffer your presence here, nor the beasts, nor the spirits,"

"Will we be attacked while we camp?"

Princess Esymia gave a slight shrug with one shoulder, picking up a silver fork as a platter of beef stroganoff was set before her. "I cannot say. This close to the gate there are few creatures save the wild ones. Word of my brother's death will travel quickly. I imagine the Guardians will deal with each other before they decide to destroy you and your army,"

"We have time then," Lyra said, letting go of Donovan's hand to pick up her own fork.

"Please pass the butter puppet!" Reqart said, grinning as he pointed at the dish.

Mark's brow furrowed. "What did you just call her?"

"A puppet!" Reqart said, oblivious to his father's gaze as Lyra passed the dish.

"Your friend has taught your son much," Babi said, speaking for the first time. She tilted her head as she cut into her stroganoff with her utensils. "You may be surprised to find Reqart does not see people the same anymore,"

Mark slowly turned to Donovan, fixing him with a serious stare. "Donovan, what have you been telling my son?"

"Uncle gave me a HUD!" Reqart said, beaming. "I can enslave puppets now, and make them do what I want!" He turned in his chair, pointing at Princess Ninja. "That one's mine! Hi Princess Ninja!" He waved. The hulking Rook nodded her head in acknowledgement, a beastly snort escaping her nostrils.

"How could you do such a thing!" Mark said, his voice raising. "I trusted you Donovan! I knew you wouldn't lay a hand on him, but to feed him such vile poison? He is a child!"

Donovan grew defensive, despite himself. "I was confused Mark, I thought this world was a game. It still might be for all I kno-"

"Don't," Mark said, his face growing dark. "Don't you dare speak those words. It doesn't matter if this is a game, or a dream, or a dammed nightmare! How we treat things, even things that aren't alive, reflects directly on our soul! Everything we do matters, from the smallest gesture to the greatest!"

"Fine!" Donovan said, then quickly quieted. "Fine," He repeated. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I'm still…dealing with all this,"

Mark turned to his plate, putting a trembling hand to his fork and attempting to take a bite. He gave up, resting his utensil on the table-cloth. Taking a deep breath, he stared down at his food. "I hope my son has not been lost to me, because I would never forgive you if it is so,"

"I'm not lost," Reqart said, confused. "And I like Uncle's magic! It's fun!"

"You will release her Reqart," Mark said, turning in his chair to gaze at Princess Ninja. "We don't enslave people. Not with the power we have,"

The boy's face fell into a pout as he crossed his arms. "I don't want to," He said, his tone sour. "Uncle says-"

"You will listen to your FATHER!" Mark bellowed, surprising everyone at the table. "NOT your UNCLE!"

Donovan had never heard Mark lose his temper, or raise his voice. Not in all the years he had known him. By the look of everyone else at the table, it was the same for them. Reqart scowled, then pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. He stormed over to Princess Ninja, who gazed down at him. The boy held out his hand. "Uncle," He said, his voice quiet. "How do I…undo the spell,"

Donovan slowly rose, approaching Reqart. Mark stood as well, watching from the table. Donovan knelt down next to the boy, instructing him on how to open his HUD. Reqart followed along. Together the young man and boy parsed through the menus, until they found the spell.

"I call upon the power of my own name," Reqart said, holding out his hand to the giant Rook. "Unbind this one from my will, and cleave our union,"

Silence reigned in the dining hall. Everyone at the table stared, waiting. Princess Ninja's shoulder sagged, then her eyes found Reqart. She slowly lifted a massive hand, then gently patted him on the shoulder. The boy gave her a weak smile, then returned to the table. Mark waited until his son sat down, then took his own place. Everyone slowly resumed eating.

"Trust me Reqart," Babi said, nodding. "It's better this way," She turned, eyeing Donovan. "And as soon as your "uncle" realizes this, the better it will be for everyone,"

Donovan ignored her, sipping from his glass. Lyra returned Babi's gaze with a glare, taking Donovan's free hand.

The only sound in the dining hall was the movement of utensils, and the heavy breathing of Princess Ninja against the wall.

​

 

[Lop]

Lop's Tentative Power Ranking of Lyssrian Individuals and Occupations
(will update with monsters, creatures and spirits in time)​

5. Copper Rank Adventures
4. Silver Rank Adventurers
3. Gold Rank Adventurers
2. Saints, Diamond Rank Adventurers
1. Heroes, Demon Lords, Platinum Rank Adventurers (only rumored to exist)

 

[Lop]

Orange and yellow rays shown through the columned throne room. Particles of dust sparkled as they were caught in the fading sunlight. Donovan watched them float from atop his throne, his head resting in one hand. Beside him stood Lyra. The young Erie stared down the steps of the throne platform at those gathered before the steps.

There was Crooked-Fang, commander of Donovan's armies, as well Tokaroaka the master sorcerer. A giant gargoyle named Belok was also present. The winged creature was in charge of the hordes of flying creatures who served Donovan. He returned Lyra's gaze as his wings curled around his body, not even bothering to hide his hatred of her. There was also an Uhnut named Greis, master of Donovan's fleets. There were others of course, more masters of this and that, as well as various commanders and advisers. Mark and Reqart also waited at the bottom of the stairs, alongside Babi and Princess Esymia.

"My king," Belok said, his voice barely above a growl. "We are…concerned, that you have taken one such as Lyra into your confidence,"

"Far be it from us to question you master," Tokaroaka said, bowing his masked head. "But surely there is a better mate for you than your Master of Estates. She is needed, after all, for the managing of your household affairs,"

The ship master wrung his hands, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm afraid I must agree my King, we wouldn't want to take Master Lyra away from her duties, now would we?"

"Listen to them," Lyra said, her voice tinged with contempt. "Am I child that I may only perform one task at a time? They will never understand my devotion to you,"

Donovan sniffed, straightening up in his throne. "Thank you for your concerns masters, I will take your words into consideration,"

Belok narrowed his eyes, the other masters looking equally dissatisfied. Lyra took a step forward, gazing down at them. "Are you done wasting our lord's time? Did he not summon you for a report on his armies?"

"I will tear your tongue from your mouth," Belok said, opening his wings to their full length. "I was not given command of the master's winged beasts so that a weak Erie would give me orders!" He flapped twice, sending gusts through the hall, then took off into the air. He landed halfway up the stairs, shaking the structure. With heavy steps he moved up towards Lyra, baring his fangs.

"That is enough Belok," Donovan said, his voice weary. "I have a headache, and I'm tired. Lyra will speak for me while I listen. Is that alright with you?"

Belok paused, his wings raising slightly. "In truth my master? We think she has bewitched you, and there are plenty of women we can offer you besides her,"

"She has not bewitched me," Donovan said, sighing. "I am the only bewitcher here, and if you do not return to the base of my stairs, I will show you exactly what I mean," The gargoyle hesitated, then flapped his wings and took off. He receded in the air, then brought in his wings, dropping down to the floor. The masters scrambled to get out of his way, letting out cries of panic as he landed and shook the throne room. Donovan nodded. "Thank you Belok. Now do not make me speak again, answer Lyra's questions, and allow me to fucking relax," He gestured lazily with one hand. "Please,"

With that, Donovan slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. He heard Lyra's voice ringing out through the throne room. "Crooked-Fang, how many soldiers did we lose?"

The Montre commander didn't answer at first. "A little over three-thousand," he said, breaking the tense silence. "With two-thousand wounded,"

"How many does that leave us," Donovan said, resting his head back in his hand. His voice was only loud enough for Lyra to hear. She repeated the question down the stairs.

"Ninety-thousand," Crooked-Fang said.

Lyra looked over her shoulder at Donovan, who nodded. "Belok," She said. "Your numbers?"

"Thirty-thousand," The gargoyle said, his voice rumbling. Donovan would have to keep an eye on Belok. There was no doubt the large creature would snap Lyra's neck given half the chance.

The questions continued. Donovan learned he had two-hundred and forty warships left, as well as twenty-thousand beast riders. Stores of food, gunpowder and crystalline ship-fuel were numbered by the other masters, then Tokaroaka stepped forward. "My Rook spies are still scouting," The sorcerer said, his voice muffled behind his mask. "But they have orders to return by morning,"

Donovan briefly glanced at Princess Ninja. Despite no longer being mind-controlled, the massive Rook stood behind Reqart. The young man briefly considered whether he should give her control of her assassins again, then thought better of it.

"That will be all," Donovan said. "You may dismiss them," He winced, remembering his power. "If you wish,"

"Your King has heard you," Lyra announced. "Go now, we will reconvene in the morning," The throne-room slowly emptied, murmurs and the sound of movement drifting up to Donovan. He stood when everyone had left, walking to the steps. Lyra watched him pass. "My king,"

"It's late," Donovan said, picking up his cape with one hand as he descended. "I would advise you to get some rest," Lyra said nothing, watching him make his way down the stairs.

Donovan walked through the halls and corridors of the floating castle, reaching his room and the two Montre lizards who stood guard. One opened the door for him, Donovan nodding in thanks as he entered.

Once inside the room, the young man stopped, taking in the furnishings and décor. With a heavy sigh he unclasped his cape, letting it fall to the floor. Donovan made his way to an arched door that led out onto a balcony. He slowly approached the railing, putting his hands to it and gazing out over the land. The sun had disappeared behind the mountainous wall, casting the sky in oranges and purples. The hills beyond the field stood silently, their purple and silver trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was a beautiful sight, one Donovan allowed himself to enjoy.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. Donovan turned slightly, cupping a hand to his mouth. "You may enter," The door opened, and Mark walked into the room. He passed through the room to the balcony, stopping by the railing next to Donovan. He leaned on it, taking in the view. "Where's Reqart?" Donovan said, his voice quiet.

"Asleep," Mark said, still gazing at the distant hills. "He was curled up with Babi when I left. He's had a long day, from what I understand,"

"It must be nice to be back with your son," Donovan said, turning and staring out at the land.

Mark nodded. "It is,"

Neither man spoke for a time. Mark reached into his robe and took out a curled black pipe. He began loading it from a leather pouch, then snapped his fingers to light it. After a couple puffs, he let out smoke rings. They traveled into the air beyond the balcony, fading into nothing.

"You've started smoking," Donovan said, his tone dry. A small smile played at the corner of Mark's mouth. He reached in, taking out a second pipe and passed it Donovan. The young man held up a hand. "Smoking killed my father, I'm not a huge fan,"

"You might find it relaxes you," Mark said, setting it on the balcony between him and Donovan. "We have the power to cure cancer after all, and you seem to be under a lot of stress,"

Donovan didn't reply, gazing up at the night sky as it slowly overtook the orange and purple streaks of sunlight. "I'm sorry," He said, sniffing and turning to Mark. "About how I treated your son. I was…when I saw how you guys had changed, it scared me. I didn't want to become like you. I didn't want to take this place seriously, and get wrapped up in it,"

"I understand," Mark said. "At least a little. And you have to understand I would do anything for Reqart. I would give my life in a moment if I thought he would be better for it. It's difficult raising a child, especially in this world. Too many things can go wrong,"

"I wouldn't know," Donovan said, glancing down at the railing. "I still can't wrap my head around it, how much you guys have changed," After a beat of silence, he cleared his throat. "It seemed Grace helped you raise Reqart, though,"

"Many people helped me raise Reqart,"

Donovan nodded, almost to himself. "I suppose we're not talking about her, then,"

Mark gazed out at the hills. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather not," He glanced at Donovan. "Though, I must ask, what's what that girl? Lyra, was it?"

Donovan gave a small shrug, reaching out and picking up the pipe. He turned it around in his hand, then held it out as Mark took a pinch of tobacco and firmly pressed it in the top. The man snapped, lighting it for Donovan. "She's my master of Estates," Donovan said, putting it to his mouth. After a few puffs, the young man coughed, holding it away from him like a foul-smelling shirt. "Fuck, you made that seem so easy,"

"Couple years of practice," Mark said, grinning and placing his own pipe in his mouth. "Your Master of Estates seems quite fond of you,"

"Hm," Donovan said, resting his pipe on the railing. "I fucked her actually, in a moment of weakness,"

Mark raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Donovan, you absolute dog,"

"I felt terrible at the time, because I thought I had finally given Jeff Benzos a proper view of my dick. Now though, I realize what I did was far worse," Donovan turned to Mark. "I enslaved her family line, and basically raped her,"

Mark was quiet for a few moments, turning back to the railing and puffing on his pipe. "Are you ever going to release her, like Reqart did to his servant?"

"I already did,"

Mark digested these words with a slow nod. "And she's still by your side," he said, tilting his head. "Interesting,"

Donovan tried his pipe again, taking another puff. This time he didn't cough, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth. "Not really. My people worship me as a god. Her whole family was killed in service to me. I can't even imagine how that fucked her up in the head,"

Mark sighed, nodding. "We all learned quickly what it meant to be a hero. We're all worshiped as gods, or we were, before we disappointed everyone by time-passing. There were times though where we could ask for anything and expect to get it. I know Justin took advantage of that,"

"Of course he did," Donovan said, snorting. "I'll be curious to know how he's changed,"

"He hasn't changed as much as you'd think. He has the ability to be a star in any world, and he took to this one well enough,"

The two men were silent, both puffing on their pipes. Donovan was getting the hang of it, though it burned his throat. "I deserve to die, don't I," He said, lowering the pipe.

Mark pursed his lips, as if thinking on it. "If there was any justice in this world, I suppose the answer would be yes. But we're the most powerful people in existence, save possibly the Demon King. I know we keep throwing around the term "gods", but its true. It's a sick irony that we're the only thing standing between this world and total destruction, and we're as bad as…who was in the Greek pantheon again? It's been too long," Mark exhaled slowly. "Anyways, I've killed more than my fair share of people while learning to control my magic. Accident or not, it doesn't matter. They're still dead, and they're families sure as hell didn't get any justice," Donovan didn't respond, his thoughts dark. "Hey," Mark said, giving him a light shove. "You want to go die, I can't stop you. But help me save the woman I love first," He leaned in close. "And don't let that Lyra woman fill your head with talk of destroying Eo. People who are capable of great evil are also capable of great good. Never forget that,"

Donovan slowly nodded, thinking on Mark's words. "If there's a real god somewhere out there, I'm going to hell. But I will help you first, I can at least do that,"

"There you go," Mark said, clasping Donovan on the back. "And don't forget, "the Events" haven't happened yet. We've still got waves of monsters and a Demon King to face,"

"Oh shit," Donovan said, furrowing his brow. "I assumed it happened sometime during my time-pass, and you guys handled it,"

Mark laughed. "Oh no my friend, not even close. With all our leveling, and passive-absorption, I'm still not even sure we'll be ready for when it comes." He knocked his pipe against the railing, then tucked it into his robe. Donovan did the same, handing his to Mark. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to force Babi to go to her own room and get myself some rest. This is the first night I'll probably get a decent amount of sleep, knowing Reqart's safe with me,"

Donovan gave him a small smile. "Thanks for being my friend Mark,"

"We're in this together," Mark said, patting his shoulder. "For better or for worse. I'll see you in the morning,"

The young man watched him go, then turned back to the railing. The stars twinkled down above him. Donovan had a lot to think on.

Some time later, another knock sounded on the door. Donovan passed through the archway, bending down to pick up his cloak from the floor. "It's open," He called.

One of the Montre guards opened the door, poking his head in. "You have another visitor, my king,"

Lyra entered, stopping as the lizard shut the door behind. Her head was lowered as she gazed at the ground. "Master," She said, her voice quiet.

Donovan slowly straightened up. "What is it," He said, his voice equally quiet.

"I would ask that I spend the night with you. I fear Tokaroaka may try and have me killed, now that he commands your assassins. And if not him, one of the other masters,"

With a sigh, Donovan approached a chair and laid his cape over it. "Christ," He said, massaging his temples. "If this is somehow still a game, this is an extremely fucked up thing to program in,"

"Master?"

"Please don't call me that," Donovan said, approaching a mirror. "If you wouldn't mind. You're a free woman now, and you don't answer to me," He inspected his face in the reflection, running a hand along the beginnings of his beard. He slowly unlaced his shirt, slipping it off and throwing it aside. He then took a pitcher of water and filled a wooden bowl on the stand in front of the mirror. Next he picked up a razor, bringing it to his chin.

"Allow me," Lyra said, crossing the room. Donovan paused as she came up beside him. She gently took the razer from his hand, walking in front of him. The two stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Lyra turned and dipped the blade in the bowl of water, then placed it to his chin. Donovan closed his eyes as she slowly ran it along his cheek. "What would you have me call you, if not master or king?"

"Donovan's fine," The young man said, keeping his eyes closed.

He felt Lyra pause with the blade. "I don't think I could do that," She said, resuming. "The others would hate me even more, if they were to hear such a thing,"

"I don't really care what the others think. I feel guilty enough about you already,"

Lyra continued shaving his chin, stopping to dip the blade in the water. She started on his other cheek. "There is no need to feel guilt. You are my king, one who is like the conqueror of old who defeated the world. I never told you this, but he was an Erie, one of my people,"

"Never meet your heroes, Lyra," Donovan said, opening his eyes and staring into hers. "I don't think I can be the destroyer you want me to be. I will disappoint you,"

"That is impossible," Lyra said, finishing his other cheek and moving down to his neck. "I would not serve you if it were so. I would hate you, in fact, if you were anything other than the true master of Vashn, he who conquered-"

Donovan raised his hand, placing it to Lyra's and stopping her movement with the razer. "Enough, please. Do not speak of legends and conquerors, or who you think I am,"

Lyra waited until he lowered his hand, then continued moving the razer along his neck. "You know," She said, her voice soft. "The others would not dare to hate me so, if you were to take me as your queen,"

The young man resisted snorting, simply rolling his eyes. "You have no idea what you're saying. And I know I wasn't that good in bed, I've had enough partners hint at it,"

"I wouldn't know," Lyra said, tilting her head as she focused on shaving him. "You were my first,"

"Goddammit," Donovan said, turning away and letting out a noise of frustration. "Of course, of-fucking-course,"

"Mast-," Lyra said, stopping herself. She tried again, struggling with the words. "Dono..van, please, I'm not finished,"

"I'll finish myself in the morning," Donovan said, approaching a table. He picked up a decanter of wine, pouring a generous amount into a glass. He drained it with a single gulp, then set it down with a loud thud. Donovan approached the large bed, slipping into the covers and rolling over to one side to face the wall. The sound of Lyra following reached his ears, her movements hesitating at the edge. He heard her dress slip from her shoulders, then she too got in, moving close to him. Donovan sighed. "Don't, please stay on your side of the bed, if you wouldn't mind. You can't possibly understand this, but our relationship is beyond fucked up,"

Lyra didn't react for a few moments, then quietly moved herself to the other side. Donovan rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. "I will never be your queen then," She said, her voice strained. "Is that what you are saying?"

Donovan closed his eyes. "You need to know that I'm on borrowed time. I'm going to try and make a few things right, and then…well, let's not spoil anything,"

Lyra didn't respond. Donovan listened to her breathing gradually slow, then he slipped into the unending darkness of sleep.

He woke with a start to a scream. Donovan groggily sat up, feeling a knife plunge into his shoulder. He gasped, seeing a dark figure wrapped in black cloth kneeling over him. "Guh!" He said, gripping the knife. "Get, go away!"

The figure obeyed, scooting off the bed. Donovan blinked in shock, looking over at Lyra. She was sitting up, clutching the blanket to herself with a look of horror. The door to his chambers was wide open, with more dark figures slipping inside. They all held blades, their faces covered with black clothes like ninjas. Donovan's mind reeled, then he noticed the figure at the end of the bed breaking free of his spell. He pointed at it, gasping again from the pain. "Kill your comrades!"

The figure turned, charging the other intruders. Donovan took in the room, spotting more figures entering from the balcony. "Master!" Lyra screamed, struggling towards him.

"Fall on your swords!" Donovan yelled, throwing away the covers and sweeping his hand across the room. "All of you!"

The figures paused. Trembling, they brought their blades in front of them, then toppled over. Donovan winced as they the swords plunged through their chests and ripped out the other side, protruding upwards.

The room was deathly quiet. Donovan breathed heavily, as did Lyra. The two looked at each other in shock. "T-tokaroaka," Lyra said, shaking.

Donovan glanced down at the knife in his shoulder. He gripped it. "If I pass out," He said. "You'll need to perform the healing spell," Lyra slowly nodded. Donovan closed his eyes and ripped the blade out, a torrent of blood following. His HUD appeared, flashing red. Donovan mumbled the words to the spell, then felt his wound closing up. When it was finished, he threw the knife at the wall and stood. Approaching one of the figures, he leaned down and tore away the cloth mask.

An elven face stared back up at him. It was grayed, with markings carved into it in strange patterns. Lyra slowly approached behind him, peering over his shoulder with the blanket clutched to her. "Who are they," She whispered.

"Not Rook," Donovan said, standing. "Which means it's not Tokaroaka," He stared at the open door to his room. Outside lay the bodies of his Montre guards. "Come on," Donovan said, rushing towards the door. "Stay close,"

Once in the hallway, Donovan heard distant screams. He rushed down the hall, coming face-to-face with two more assassins. They stood over the body of an Uhnut maid, their blades dripping with blood.

Donovan grit his teeth in anger. "Kill each other,"

The elves obeyed, plunging their knives into each other's throats. Both fell backwards, clutching at the handles. Donovan took Lyra's hand and continued down the hall. The sound of steel on steel reached his ears. He rounded the corner into a large hall. Montre guards and Vashn knights battled elven assassins with steel and spells. Donovan took in the scene, then took a deep breath. "Everyone stop!" Both sides did, their swords hovering in the air as the spells faded. "All those who call me King," Donovan said. "Kill the intruders,"

The Montre lowered their tridents, thrusting them into the chests of the assassins. The knights raised their swords and brought them down, cleaving heads from bodies. The slaughter took only a few moments, then Donovan rushed through the hall.

"My king!" One of the knights yelled. Donovan turned, spotting his Order Master of the knights, Hayume. The knight stood dressed in a sleeping tunic, his blade glinting in the light of the hall's pyres. "They're everywhere! We will go with you!"

"No need," Donovan said, guiding Lyra towards them. "Protect her with your life, and get as many to safety as you can,"

Hayume froze, then nodded. "Yes my king,"

Donovan broke into a sprint, heading for the stairs that led down to the guest rooms. He reached the top, finding more assassins climbing up it. "Get out of my way!" He yelled. "Then break your fucking necks!"

The assassins paused, then straightened up and stood against the wall on either side of the staircase. They dropped their weapons, placing both hands to their heads and twisting. Donovan heard the sickening snaps, his stomach turning. The assassins collapsed. He rushed down past them.

The bodies of Montre guards and knights littered the hallway. Donovan ran over them, tripping on one and struggling to right himself. His heart beat in his chest as he pounded his arms. The corridor ended in another hall. A bell sounded, then one of the walls blew away in a wave of debris. Donovan covered himself, coughing as the dust billowed outward. When it cleared, he saw Mark on the other side of the hole. The man held a bell in one hand, and clutched Reqart to him with the other. The legs and torso of several assassins slowly fell to the floor, their top halves missing.

"Mark!" Donovan shouted, rushing towards him.

"Donovan!" Mark yelled, shepherding Reqart through the opening. "What's going on!"

The three met among the rubble, stopping. "We're under attack," Donovan said. "Elves, Guardians I guess,"

Mark's expression grew dark. "We're in trouble then,"

"Yeah no fucking shit," Donovan said, glancing over his shoulder. An assassin's body flew through the doorway on the far end, a spear made of light protruding from it. Babi followed after, clutching another light-spear in her hand. She wore a sleeping gown, though her face was set with anger.

Reqart seemed in shock, but broke out of it upon seeing the young woman. "Babi!" He shouted. "Over here!"

Babi rushed over to them. Mark took a step forward, gripping the bell. "Where's Esymia!"

"I don't know," Babi said. "All these rooms look the same,"

"We have to find her," Mark said. "Before they get her. She could be the target,"

Donovan put his hands to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We're all the targets," He said, lowering his hands. "But yes, we'll stick together and look for her, and kill as many of these bastards as we can,"

The group made their way down the hallway Babi had emerged from. They were forced to step over the corpses of both Montre guards and assassins. Mark covered Reqart's eyes, guiding the boy around the carnage. At the end of the corridor was a wide door that led into a massive chamber. The sounds of fighting drifted towards them, and at the end, an assassin pinned an Orga servant against the wall. The assassin plunged his knife into the Orga several times, letting the servant slide down the wall to the floor.

Donovan pointed at the elven intruder. "Bash your head against the wall until you die," The assassin placed both his hands to the wall and reared his head back, then brought it forward with a sickening sound. The figure stumbled back, then slowly approached the wall again, placing his hands to it and repeating the motion. Donovan and the others hurried past.

Once through the arch, the group was met with a raging battle. Princess Ninja stood in the center, roaring as she gripped two assassins, one in each hand. She brought them together, smashing their bodies with all her might. Around her were Vashn knights and elven assassins locked in combat. Cries of pain and fury echoed as the wounded crumbled before Donovan. He pointed at the nearest assassin. "Kill your comrades!"

A fireball roared through the air, incinerating most of knights. Assassins climbed up Princess Ninja, while more dropped on her from the ceiling. The Rook let out another roar, geometric shapes appearing around her and slicing her assailants with razer sharp wind. She gripped an assassin climbing her back by the leg and brought him down into the floor.

Another fireball materialized, enveloping Princess Ninja and throwing the Rook against a wall. Donovan staggered back against the heat, searching for the source of the spell. More assassins ran into the hall, leaping on the knights and finishing them off. Donovan pointed at the first three. "Stab yourselves!" They obeyed, driving their swords into their bodies and collapsing.

"A witch," A calm voice said. "Rid yourselves of yours ears, Shades," In response, the assassins hastily took their blades and cut off their ears, some plunging the weapons into the openings. Donovan, Mark, Reqart and Babi watched in horror. The assassins were unfazed, finishing their self-mutilation and approaching.

"Oh fuck," Donovan said, taking a step back. A new figure entered the hall, gripping Princess Esymia by the arm. They were taller than the other elves, wearing flowing robes and a bronze, smooth mask without any features save for a series of small holes. Donovan pointed. "Let go of the princess,"

The figure paused, then glanced at Princess Esymia. They turned their bronze mask back to Donovan and the others. "It seems I am above your magic. Kill them my Shades,"

The assassins rushed forward. Babi let out a yell, throwing a light-spear with all her might. It impacted into the first elf, rocking them backwards. Babi summoned several more light-spears, throwing one after the other. They all found their targets, then the young woman twirled and unleashed geometric spell patterns.

Mark backed up, holding Reqart as the boy clung to him. He seemed hesitant to use the bell in his hand, watching as Babi took on a score of assassins by herself. Princess Ninja roared, erupting from the wall and barreling into the group of attackers. She brought down both fists, then swung them side to side, throwing up bodies into the air.

Donovan joined Mark, watching as Babi and Princess Ninja tore into the assassins. The young man's eyes found the figure in the bronze mask. "What are you waiting for," Donovan said, his voice tinged with trepidation. "Use your bell magic,"

"I can't," Mark said, seemingly resistant to Donovan's voice. "It will kill Princess Esymia, and possibly Babi and the Rook,"

"Shit," Donovan said, gritting his teeth. "Who the hell are these guys!"

The masked figure pushed Princess Esymia into the arms of several assassins standing next to them. The figure then drew two curved blades and stepped forward. Strange, flowing patterns appeared in the air, then a dark cloud snaked across the ground. It curled up around Babi, flowing into her mouth and choking her. A second dark cloud found Princess Ninja, ensnaring her and forcing itself down her throat. The masked figure charged both of them, raising his blades.

"Mark!" Donovan yelled.

The man stepped forward, raising his bell and ringing it once. The hall shook as the ringing reverberated through it. A series of shockwaves traveled outward, expanding and striking at the figure. The masked elf held up their swords, their robes tearing away from their body by the force of the spell. Babi and Princess Ninja were thrown to the floor, the dark smoke dissipating. Princess Esymia and the assassins holding her were also thrown back, hitting the wall and rolling down it.

When the ringing stopped, the masked figure was left standing naked save for his bronze face-covering. He slowly lowered his swords, then pointed one at Mark. Black smoke materialized in front of the blades, solidifying into stakes and exploding forward. All of them impaled Mark, sending him spinning to the floor.

"FATHER!" Reqart yelled, dropping down next to him.

The figure lowered himself, then charged Donovan with unnatural speed. The young man stumbled backwards, shielding himself with his arms. The figure jumped into the air and pointed both blades downward. Before he could drive them into Donovan, a shape blurred past the young man and thrust a trident in the air. The impact of steel against steel echoed through the hall.

Donovan lowered his arms, seeing Crooked-Fang gripping his trident with both hands. The Montre's scaly arms and chest were scarred with fresh wounds, dark blood seeping from them. "My king!" Crooked-Fang yelled. "Get back, I will take this one!"

"Will you now," The figure said, slipping a sword from the trident prongs. He brought it around, but the lizard commander was just as fast. Crooked-Fang spun his weapon, deflecting the blade with the butt of his trident. He leapt backward, bending down low as his tail swept the floor. Crooked-Fang then charged forward, thrusting with his trident in a series of rapid motions.

The masked figure brought up his swords in a blur, deflecting the attacks. Crooked-Fang pointed a claw, geometric shapes appearing around his body. Water seeped up from the floor, twirling into geysers and surging forward. The masked figure bent his body left and right, the water roaring past him. He spun forward, landing neatly on the toes of one foot and driving his blades forward. Crooked-Fang deflected one of the swords, but the other found his thigh. He roared, bringing up his trident and tearing three deep gashed across the figure's chest.

The masked elf stumbled backwards, then pointed his hand. More strange shapes appeared around him, then a tornado of fire enveloped Crooked-Fang. Donovan watched in horror as the lizard fell to his knees, his scales blackening. "My…king," Crooked-Fang said, then fell forward on his face.

A roar filled the hall. Princess Ninja galloped on all fours, slamming into the figure and knocking him backwards. The masked elf landed with his feet on the far wall, bending his knees for leverage. Before he could spring forth, two spears of light impaled him, driving him backwards against the stone. He dropped one of the swords, the steel clattering on the floor. He gripped the other with both hands as the light-spears faded. Babi charged him, summoning more of the weapons.

Before she could reach him, Princess Ninja sprinted past her, shaking the hall. She slammed a fist into the figure, then another. The masked elf dropped his other sword as he exhaled in pain. Princess Ninja picked him up by both arms, then with a mighty roar tore them from his body. The elf screamed in pain, dropping down in a heap. The large Rook raised her foot, bringing it down and crushing the figure. She brought it up again, stomping. Princess Ninja repeated the motion until she was satisfied.

Donovan watched Princess Ninja straighten up. Reqart trembled as he held onto Mark, his father lying on the floor. The boy pressed his face into the man's chest, sobbing. "Father! Please!"

"You know how to heal him," Donovan said. "Do it,"

Reqart nodded with a tear-stained face, then held his hands over Mark and began the spell. Donovan took in death around the hall, spotting several elf assassins pulling Princess Esymia towards the far door. "Babi!" Donovan yelled, pointing. The young woman shot across the hall, flinging her spears with all her might. The first drove into the assassin on Esymia's left. The other brought down the one on the right. Both fell to the floor, leaving the elven princess upright and shaking.

The hall grew quiet. Princess Ninja approached Crooked-Fang's corpse, bending to kneel over him. Donovan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The smell of death was overpowering. The young man glanced at Mark. Reqart finished the spell, and the man opened his eyes. "ooohh," Mark groaned, putting a hand to his chest. Reqart helped him sit up. "Did…did we win?"

"Maybe," Donovan said. "I don't know how many are left," He started across the hall, stepping over corpses and making his way towards Princess Esymia. The elf stood near the door, slowly bringing up her arms to hold herself. Donovan passed Princess Ninja, who slowly straightened up. The young man paused. "You did good," He said, nodding at her. "Thank you,"

Princess Ninja glanced down at Crooked-Fang. Donovan did the same. The Montre commander was dead, his body burnt to a blackened husk. With a quiet sigh, Donovan continued on. He heard Mark standing behind him. "Is everyone alright?"

"No," Donovan said, stopping a small distance in front of Princess Esymia. She slowly met his gaze. The young man pointed at one of the assassin corpses. "Who the hell are these people,"

The elf princess didn't answer for a few moments, her whole body trembling as she hugged herself. Finally she swallowed. "They…they should not exist…they…have only been rumored…"

"Who are they," Donovan repeated, narrowing his eyes. Mark and Reqart came up on one side of him, Babi and Princess Ninja on the other.

"Shades," Esymia said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I did not think they existed…they shouldn't exist…it's…impossible,"

Donovan raised both arms, presenting the hall. "Well, they exist, and they've killed plenty already. So tell me everything you know,"

Princess Esymia slowly brought her hands up to her head, holding it. "I know nothing," She said, her expression shocked. "I thought I knew everything, but I know nothing. These things cannot exist, to create one from a Guardian is…sacrilege,"

Donovan's hand curled into a fist, his temper flaring. He glanced at Princess Ninja. "Gather all the masters I have left, and tell Master Hayume to come find me. I want all the assassins in the castle dead, and once that's done," Donovan took a deep breath. "I am going to starting burning this land to the fucking ground,"

With that, he turned, storming for the nearest archway. Princess Ninja took off in the opposite direction, moving unnaturally fast for her size. Mark, Reqart and Babi watched Donovan go, the bodies of the dead pooling blood around them.

​

 

[Lop]

The flower fields of Eo stretched towards jutting hills. The morning sun had not yet reached either, its blazing glory held back by massive mountains. Over a million people were camped among the vibrant greenery. Their tents and clothing fluttered in a strong breeze as they all faced a clearing in the field.

Around the perimeter, soldiers raised wooden crosses. Others heaved the bodies of dead elves up onto them, securing them with ropes and nails. In the center of the clearing was a giant pyre. Montre guards and Vashn knights carried the bodies of their fallen comrades to it, respectfully placing them among the wood.

Donovan stood in front of the pyre, flanked by his masters and guests. His hair and cape were buffeted by the wind, but he barely registered their movements. Instead he watched the procession of dead bodies as they were brought to the pile.

After the last of the knights lowered their brethren, a single figure approached. It was the Unfeeling-One, the blind Montre champion. He carried the body of his father, Crooked-Fang, wrapped in purple cloth. Everyone was silent as they watched the lizard reach the pyre. The Unfeeling One gingerly placed the blanket onto the wood. He straightened up, turning as another Montre brought him a torch. He took it, holding it over the pile.

Donovan's expression was hardened. The Unfeeling One bent down and held the torch against the wood, keeping it there. Smoke drifted up, the fire spreading through the wood. It crackled as the sound of splitting timber drifted over the field. The flames spread, and soon the entire pyre was engulfed. Donovan watched the smoke pour up into the sky.

"My king," A voice said. He turned, seeing Lyra beside him. She was flanked by Tokaroaka and the Order Master Hayume, as well as Greis, the master of ships. Behind them was Belok and the remaining servants who had survived last night's attack. Lyra looked past Donovan at the pyre, then met his gaze with the same hardened expression he wore. "We must speak,"

"How many did we lose," Donovan said, turning back to the burning pile. The wind picked up, tugging his cape against him.

Lyra drew her cloak to her, the other masters watching. "At least a hundred Montre, and as many knights. We also lost many servants, as well as crew for our warships,"

Donovan's gaze found the Unfeeling One, who stood framed against the flames. The Montre seemed unfazed by the smoke and fire billowing mere feet in front of him. "I'm going to make Crooked-Fang's son the new commander of my forces," Donovan said. "But I will be losing a champion in the process," He glanced at the gathered servants. "Unless you masters know of a better candidate," None of them spoke. Donovan nodded. "Very well, he will be one of you, from this day forth. As for the servants and crew, find competent refugees to replace them,

The Unfeeling One lifted his head to the sky, his tongue forking out briefly. He turned, walking away from the burning pyre. "Unfeeling One," Lyra called. "Your king has something to say to you,"

The blind leper shifted in the direction of her voice, approaching. He stopped a respectable distance in front of Donovan. The young man cleared his throat. "In light of your father's passing, I am in need of a new commander of my armies," The other Montre slowly gathered to witness the exchange. "Kneel," Donovan said. The Unfeeling One got on one knee, lowering his head. Donovan approached, raising his voice so that all could hear. "Your father served me well," In response, the Montre surrounding the Unfeeling One banged their tridents once on the ground. Donovan took a deep breath, then continued. "Two battles he led, and two battles he won," Again the Montre banged their tridents on the ground. "He was always by my side, aiding me at the Capital, at the Risen Node, and at Caldus Bramble," The Montre banged their tridents three times. The Unfeeling One kept his head lowered, listening. "He saved my life against assassins, giving his own in the process," The lizard warriors began beating their tridents in a steady beat, filling the air with the sound. "With his death," Donovan paused, the rhythm of the tridents shaking the ground. "I am now in need of a new commander of my legions. So I have made a decision. From this day forth, you will be known as Commander Fangson, leader of the armies of Vashn," The Unfeeling One, now known as Fangson, raised his head to look up at Donovan with unseeing eyes. The Montre continued to bang their tridents, the sound growing faster. Donovan lifted a hand. "Rise,"

Fangson did so, slowly bringing his fist to his chest in a salute. "My King,"

Donovan nodded, looking out over the gathered Montre. "Look upon your new leader! Commander Fangson, master of the armies of Vashn!"

The Montre raised their tridents in the air. "HAIL! HAIL COMMANDER FANGSON!"

The wind shifted as wood within the pyre cracked, sending up a plume of smoke. Over a million faces watched as Fangson turned and stared upon the fire. Donovan studied the blind Montre, then looked for Mark. He found the man standing among the masters, alongside Reqart, Babi and Princess Esymia. They were all dressed in heavy cloaks against the wind, as well as hoods.

Donovan walked through the masters, who parted for him. He paused by Tokaroaka. "Bring me the head of the elf leader," He said, then continued on. Reaching Mark, he stopped, then looked to Princess Esymia. The elf pulled the side of her hood close to her face, looking away. Donovan turned his gaze back to his friend. "Mark,"

"Donovan," The man said, his tone somber and tinged with weariness.

"I'm going to summon Ozadias. I want to know what those things are that attacked us,"

Mark nodded. "He'd probably know,"

Donovan gestured vaguely. "Do you have any, I don't know, sand or something,"

Mark reached into his robe, drawing out a leather pouch. Donovan held out his hand. "I'll do it," Mark said, opening the pouch. He knelt down, pouring a fine white powder on the ground. The wind swept away some of it. Mark replaced it and pressed it into the ground with his thumb. He spat in the center. "Ozadias,"

A flash, followed by smoke, appeared in the air. When it cleared, the spirit of wisdom, Ozadias, hovered in front of them. He wore the same flowing garments he always wore, as well as his floppy, pointed hat. The brim was low, covering his face in shadow.

Donovan raised his chin, fixing the spirit with an unflinching stare. Tokaroaka came up beside him, a cloth bundle in his hands. Donovan took the bundle from him, slowly unwrapping it. The cloth fell away to reveal the head of a grayed elf, its face covered in markings. Donovan unceremoniously tossed the head. It landed in the grass before Ozadias. "What is this," The young man said.

Ozadias didn't bother looking. He bobbed in the air, his robes moving in the wind. "Greetings heroes," the spirit said, bowing its head.

"I asked you a question," Donovan said. "Answer it,"

"They are known as Shades," Ozadias said. "Once Guardians, but no longer. They are creatures borne of smoke and shadow,"

Princess Esymia approached, looking up at Ozadias. "Spirit," She said, her voice clear. "Such things are abominations to my kind. Who did this," A look of pain crossed her face, but only briefly. "Who is responsible,"

Ozadias tilted his head slightly, though his face was still obscured by his floppy hat. "There are many who have had a hand in such practices. Though I heard the voice of the one who first commanded them. Calstar, of House Sarius,"

Princess Esymia slowly closed her eyes. Donovan had a feeling she had already known the answer. "Brother," She said, her voice quiet. "What have you done,"

Donovan narrowed his eyes. "So they're what, zombies? Undead elf ninjas? How many are left?"

Ozadias glanced up at the sky, streaks of yellow heralding the rising sun. The spirit looked back at Donovan. "These lands hold a power in them that shields much from my gaze and knowledge, I can say little to answer your questions, save that a Guardian need not be dead to become a Shade. The ritual must be performed, on a certain evening, during a certain season,"

Snorting, Donovan gestured Tokaroaka towards the head. "Wrap that back up," The sorcerer obeyed, though it was clear he tried to keep his distance from Ozadias. "Well," Donovan said. "You are little help to me so far. I plan to destroy this land, what am I to expect?"

"Donovan," Mark said, his voice strained. "You don-"

"Speak spirit," Donovan said, interrupting his friend.

Ozadias continued floating in the air. "What do you wish to hear of hero? I can tell you much of the history, the creatures and others who call these lands home,"

"How many will oppose us. What are there numbers,"

The spirit drew its long, floppy sleeves in, clasping its hands together. "I cannot give you an exact number. There were originally seven cities, and the Guardians numbered millions at one time. As the centuries have passed however, the changes in these lands have not been made known to me,"

Donovan turned to Princess Esymia. "Well?" He said. "Care to answer?"

The elf lowered her head, her hood obscuring her face. "There are only five cities now, but many places in Eo are called home by many creatures,"

Exhaling slowly, Donovan nodded. "Well then, it seems we have our work cut out for us,"

"Donovan," Mark said, taking a step forward. "I understand you're angry, but warring against the Guardians is not the answer,"

"Oh? And how exactly did you plan to get Reqart's mother back? Ask nicely? Barter?" Donovan narrowed his eyes. "This world is the same as ours. The universal language is violence, that is the only thing anyone truly understands,"

"No," Mark said, his tone stern. "That is the way of weak men. We are not weak men. We have power beyond anything else in this world. The power to change things without resorting to violence,"

"Really?" Donovan said, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you were doing at the Risen Node? You destroyed thousands of demons, as well as my own soldiers, with a single spell,"

Mark's face fell, but the sorrow quickly passed. He met Donovan's gaze. "I do not have much say in my magic. The path I chose had unintended consequences, and I wear these bells so that others do not have to bare their burden,"

"How noble of you," Donovan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Careful," Mark said, his own tone carrying a warning.

The two men stared at each other, their expressions hard. Lyra approached, putting a hand to Donovan shoulder. "My king," She said softly. "We await your orders,"

Before Donovan could respond, the ground began to tremble. Furrowing his brow in confusion, the young man looked around. The trembling grew, cries of panic and alarm spreading through the millions of pilgrims gathered on the field.

In the distance, the purple and silver trees swayed atop the jutting hills. A black mass emerged from the between the slopes, rapidly approaching. Donovan watched the mass grow closer and closer. "What the hell?" He murmured.

It revealed itself to be beasts, thousands upon thousands of them. They stampeded, baying into the air and kicking up dust. The pilgrims let out further cries of panic, rushing away from the approaching animals. Donovan took a step back, shocked.

"Fangson!" Lyra shouted. "Stop those animals!"

The blind leper reared back his head and yelled into the air, "Kiillll them!" He pointed his trident. Montre guards, Vashn knights and soldiers rushed forward in chaotic lines. Spells appeared in the air, raining fire and sharpened earth down on the stampeding beasts. They howled in pain, slamming into the ground and tripping up those charging behind them.

"Wait!" Mark yelled. "We don't have to slaughter them!"

"It's food you fool!" Lyra shouted, gesturing at the approaching mass. "We can feed our people for weeks with their meat!"

"We don't even know what they are!" Mark shouted back. "Or why they're stampeding!"

"No," Belok said, his voice a low rumble. "For once the Erie is right. I will feed these things to my warriors, for meat will keep them strong," He flapped his wings, sending grass and clothing trembling against the gale. Belok took off, letting out a roar. He was joined in the sky by other gargoyles, as well as giant owls, bats and crows. Belok stopped flapping, plunging down. At the last moment he opened his wings, soaring over the heads of the panicked beasts. He grabbed two, then flapped and flew back into the air. The other winged beasts did the same, diving down and pulling beasts from the herd.

The first of the animals reached Donovan's soldiers. They were met with pikes, tridents and spells. Cries of animal fury and pain rose up into the air, a massacre slowly unfolding. Donovan watched in a daze. Several of the beasts impacted against the pyre, sending up balls of fire. This only further panicked them, their cries reaching a fever pitch.

The butchering lasted twenty minutes. As the dust and noise settled, the fields were gripped in a strange haze. An eerie silence descended. Belok and his warriors circled above, dropping the animals they held to dash them against the ground. The bodies impacted with sounds that caused Donovan to wince. He turned away, noticing Reqart standing close to Mark. The boy held onto his father's robes for comfort. Babi rested a hand on Reqart's shoulder, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Fangson!" Lyra called. "We must gather the corpses, quickly! The meat must be preserved!" She turned, hurrying off towards the floating castle. It hovered low to the ground some distance away.

Donovan glanced at Ozadias, who watched the scene in silence. "You're dismissed," he said. The spirt disappeared in a puff of smoke. Donovan turned and slowly approached the piles of dead animals. He heard someone following, but didn't bother turning.

The beasts were like oxen, but none Donovan recognized. Their coats were a yellowish gold, and their horns folded together to form a near-perfect circle. Small nubs protruded from the circles, like thorns on a vine. The creatures' heads were oddly shaped as well, flat, and tall. Soldiers moved around Donovan, securing the beasts with ropes. They formed teams, pulling the bodies across the grass towards the castle.

"You got lucky," A voice said. Donovan looked over his shoulder, spotting Babi. He didn't reply, staring back down at the animals. She came up beside him, stopping. "Don't count on it holding out. These lands will consume you and everyone who follows you,"

"Tell me," Donovan said, his voice somber. "If you so desire. Did Grace raise you to be like her? Because all your haughty taunting is getting old,"

Babi didn't respond for a few moments, gazing upon the heaps of dead animals spread across the field. "She taught me everything I know,"

"Hm, that explains a lot. She was a royal bitc-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Babi said, though her tone was subdued. "Swearing doesn't suit you, it makes you seem like a child,"

Donovan sniffed, wiping his nose. "I suppose now is as good a time as any to ask why you came along. Did Grace tell you to kill me?"

Babi slowly shook her head, still gazing at the beasts. "I'm here to protect Reqart and Marcus, nothing more,"

"Then you're just as likely to die as us,"

"Maybe," Babi said, turning her head and gazing at Donovan. "But I am a Saint, and that makes me a lot more powerful than you,"

Donovan let out a single chuckle. "I don't know what that title means. And I doubt it, I'm a hero, which makes me as close to a god as you can get in this world,"

"Oh?" Babi said, raising an eyebrow. "And who told you that?"

"My own eyes, as well as Mark,"

Babi let out a laugh. "I've seen Marcus almost die a hundred times. If I or Grace wasn't there to save him, he would have. You bleed just the same as us,"

"True enough," Donovan said, conceding the point with a tilt of his head. "But between our martial and magic abilities, it's really not a contest. Trust me, I've dabbled in plenty of games concerning power, I recognize the hierarchies and rankings pretty damn well,"

"This is not a game," Babi said, her voice low.

Donovan didn't respond at first. The wind picked up, carrying the sound of the soldiers with it. They continued to work in teams, roping the beast corpses and dragging them across the grass. "I suppose I owe you an apology," Donovan said, turning to her. "Hanging you in front of my throne wasn't exactly…well, I was working under a lot of bad assumptions,"

"I do not think I would ever like to visit your world," Babi said, turning to face him. "If there are men like you there,"

The young man couldn't help but laugh. "Oh don't give me that. Your world has the same types of people as ours. You could say it's a fairly good imitation."

"I've met kings and princes across Lysseria. All of them treated their dogs better than you treat people,"

Donovan's expression soured, then softened. "I'm aware of what I did, and I'm trying to make it right,"

Babi looked unconvinced. "By burning Eo?"

"I mean," Donovan said, shrugging. "It'll get Reqart's mother back, right?" He glanced at the crosses surrounding the clearing. The bodies of the elves hung from them, their tattered clothing blowing in the wind. "And I'm not so sure this land is a paradise,"

"You're not so sure of anything it would seem," Babi said, scratching at her arm under her sleeve. "I will say this. I have seen the worst of you, and little of anything that would redeem you. The path you walk now is the same you've always walked,"

Donovan sighed. "You're like what, nineteen? Twenty? You talk like an old lady oracle or some shit,"

A hint of a smile played at the corner of Babi's mouth. "I've seen a lot, and was forced to grow up quickly. I'll see you die, if I'm lucky. Maybe by my own hand,"

"Yeah well, get in line," Donovan said, his tone low. He turned, walking away. He felt Babi's eyes on him as he did. He paused, turning back and pointing at her. "And you're hot, but not that hot, so cut that coy shit out, if you wouldn't mind,"

Babi looked surprised, then let out a laugh. "Oh," She said, smiling. "You are by far the most insecure king I have ever encountered,"

"Still a king though," Donovan said, scowling. He started towards the floating castle. "Might do you some good to remember that,"

The masters, as well as Montre guards and Vashn knights, streamed with Donovan towards Utan-Gora. The warriors dragged the carcasses of the animals, smearing the grass with dark blood. The floating castle waited ahead of them, hovering just barely above the ground. The drawbridge was lowered. It led up to the gate above the massive blood-fly hive it rested upon. Donovan joined together with the mob of people moving up it. They parted, giving him room.

Once in the columned room, the young man headed for the stairs to his throne. He was intercepted by Tokaroaka. "My king," The sorcerer said, hurrying up to him. He was followed by a Rook wearing a wooden mask and feathered cloak.

"Hm," Donovan said, pausing at the first step.

"My spies have returned from scouting the land," Tokaroaka said, bowing his head low. He turned, nodding to the Rook. "Tell him what you saw Cob,"

The Rook bowed as well. "A city approaches my king,"

"A city approaches?" Donovan repeated. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I saw it myself," The Rook said, gesturing with a hand. "It's the tallest I have ever witnessed, with at least five rings of walls lying within each other, on the back of a great beast,"

Donovan stared a beat, then shook his head. "Fuck, a mobile Minis Tirith, just what I needed. And it's headed our way?" The Rook nodded. Donovan massaged his temples as he thought. "Alright, alright, here's what we're going to do, we're going to deal with this Mortal Engines bullshit, and I mean deal with it. I need to let these elves know I'm in town and I mean fucking business. Tokaroaka tell the ship master to prepare the fleet. Fangson should have his armies ready as well. And find Belok for me. We'll meet them head on,"

"Yes my king," Tokaroaka said, bowing quickly. He straightened up, grabbing the hem of his robe to hurry across the chamber.

The Rook bowed once as well, then turned. He came face-to-face with Princess Ninja, who had appeared from the shadows. The massive Rook towered over the smaller one, looking down at him. Donovan frowned, waiting to see what would happen. Princess Ninja lowered her head. Cob slowly lifted his mask, then put his hands on either side of her face. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry," He whispered, barely loud enough for Donovan to hear. After a beat he turned his head and lowered his mask, then hurried past her.

The young man watched him go, then turned to Princess Ninja. "Do you speak," Donovan said, his tone barely interested.

"Not if I can help it," Princess Ninja said, her voice gravely and strained. "I find it…painful, in this body,"

Donovan raised an eyebrow, appraising her. "Be a shame to waste your strength, and I do owe you for last night. What is it you wish to do here?"

Princess Ninja didn't respond at first. Finally she shifted. "I would like…to command my Rook again, in service to you,"

"Well," Donovan said, sighing. "I'm not so sure about that. Tokaroaka seems to be taking to it well enough, and it looks bad to be too indecisive. I learned that in a management class in college," Princess Ninja didn't respond, her shoulders rising and falling as she breathed. Donovan shrugged. "Still, I just lost a champion when I made Fangson commander of my armies. How good of a fighter are you?"

"You told me I did well last night, during the attack,"

Donovan nodded. "That you did," He mused, tapping his chin. "That you did. And you're still loyal to me?"

"I have only ever known your rule," Princess Ninja said, her voice cracking. "I have only ever served you, loyally,"

"I'll take your word for it," Donovan said, pausing. He snapped. "Tell you what. You told me once about traitors among my ranks. So I'll make you one of my champions, and I'll also let you run around my halls and ships and kill anyone who steps out of line. Kind of like a shadow enforcer. Would you like that?"

Princess Ninja's face was incapable of smiling, but Donovan could have sworn he saw the hint of one. A low growl escaped her mouth. "I would like that…a lot,"

"Excellent," Donovan said, clapping once. "Oh, but you're not allowed to touch Lyra, Fangson, Tokaroaka, Gries or Belok without my permission, understand? Oh, and especially not Mark and Reqart. Those two are absolutely off limits,"

Princess Ninja bowed her head. "It…will be as you say, my king,"

"Cool," Donovan said, turning to his throne-stairs. "You're dismissed," He climbed the steps, feeling the lack of sleep as he did. When he reached the top, he found the throne and sat heavily in it.

"Master," A deep voice said.

Donovan didn't even have to lean forward to know who it was. "Is that you Belok? Good. We're about to embark on a collision course with an elf city, and it sounds like its got layers surrounded by walls. That means its going to be your time to shine,"

"Forgive me," Belok said, his voice echoing up the stairs. "I..am not sure what you mean my king,"

Donovan adjusted in the throne, getting comfortable. "I mean when I give you the signal, I want you to terrorize the fuck out its inhabitants,"

Belok chuckled, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Donovan's neck. "I will gather my warriors, my king. It will be my pleasure,"

"Yeah I figured you'd like that," Donovan said, yawning. "Go on then, I'll let you know when it's time," Belok shifted, his heavy footsteps moving away. Donovan saw his massive form raise up and fly through the opening in the columns. The young man closed his eyes, attempting to nap.

He slipped into a half sleep, the movement of people waking him every so often. A voice finally roused him. "Donovan,"

The young man opened his eyes, then stood. Stretching, he approached the top of the stairs. At the bottom was Mark and Reqart. Babi and Princess Esymia were also present. Mark started up the steps. Tokaroaka also appeared from a staircase, hurrying to the base of the platform as Mark climbed. The shipmaster Greis followed.

"My king!" The sorcerer said. "We've loaded your soldiers onto the transports, and are ready to travel!"

"We've taken the most skilled from among the refugees," Greis said, hurrying to keep up. "And pressed them into service aboard our fleet!"

Donovan gestured idly. "Good, good, let's head out then,"

Tokaroaka reached the bottom step. "The refugees will not be able to keep up once we enter the hills and forests,"

"Did your scouts find anything dangerous?"

"They did not," Tokaroaka said, shaking his mask.

Donovan thought for a moment, putting his hand to his chin. He glanced at Mark, who was reaching the top of the stairs. "Well," Donovan said, shrugging. "They can always catch up later. I don't know where Lyra is, but tell her to make sure they have some of that meat from the beasts,"

Tokaroaka bowed. "It will be as you say my king,"

"Shipmaster, give the signal, move the fleet,"

The Uhnut grinned. "At once master!" He turned, rushing away with the sorcerer.

"Are we having fun?" Mark said, reaching the top and meeting the young man's gaze.

"Oh c'mon," Donovan said, returning to his throne and sitting heavily. "They have your elf wife, don't you want her back?" Mark sighed, snapping his fingers. Stone from the top of the platform heaved, then built up over itself to form a small stool. He sat down on it, facing Donovan. The young man pointed. "You better put that back when you leave, I don't want to trip over it,"

Mark rested his head in hands. "You are not making this easy Donovan,"

"Explain to me exactly what you think I'm supposed to do here Mark," Donovan said, turning his head with a weary expression, Distant horns sounded, and the floating castle shifted. The plains began to pass beyond the columns, the jutting hills growing closer.

Mark kept his head in his hands, his voice drifting from between his fingers. "They're not a monolithic entity Donovan, we have no idea where Gwelenain is, or who's holding her,"

"So let's start raising hell. Kick over a few rocks, scatter the roaches. We'll get some answers soon enough,"

"What we'll get is a war," Mark said, raising his head to look at Donovan. "And I'm tired of those. I've been fighting one for almost seven years. There's better ways,"

"Oh Christ you sound like Grace and Babi," Donovan said. "We're not going to go around knocking on doors, at least not without a big stick,"

Mark held his gaze. "Donovan, this won't be like the Kingdom Alliance, or the Eastern Empire. The Guardians are like," He furrowed his brow. "Gah, it's been too long. Like Mexico fighting Cortez. You're outmatched and outgunned,"

"Oh you have forgotten a lot. We used to be history buffs, remember? The conquistadors only won against the Aztecs because they had help. If anything, I'm like the Spanish, but with a bigger army,"

"Not the best group to model yourself after," Mark said, raising an eyebrow. "I remember that at least,"

"Well the metaphor breaks down if you think about it too hard," Donovan said, yawning. "You don't really know anything about this place, and neither do I. But I've got a pretty badass fleet, and if the elves aren't monolith, well…" Donovan gave him a small smile. "Divide and conquer, and all that,"

Mark lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just last night you were acting remorseful, what happened to that,"

"Fuck Mark, I almost died last night. So did you and Reqart. Are you really trying to go pacifist route on me?"

"I think I'm just tired of fighting," Mark said. "And I don't want to slaughter my wife's people,"

Donovan stared at him, feeling something tug in his chest. Finally he sighed. "Alright," Donovan raised a palm. "Alright, fine. I know I've been an asshole, not without reason mind you, but even I get tired of myself when I get too carried away," He voice grew subdued. "And, well, I'm still a monster. I'd like to change that at least a little before I die,"

Mark let go of his nose and raised his head. "So you won't destroy these lands?"

"We're approaching a city," Donovan said, gesturing beyond the columns. "When we reach it, I'll send out an envoy. Hell, I'll go with, and you can come too. We'll see exactly how willing these elf fuckers are to negotiate,"

Mark slowly nodded. "It's a good start," His stomach rumbled, prompting him to put a hand to it.

"Go tell the servants to get you and Reqart some food," Donovan said. "I'll have you summoned when we reach the city," Mark stood, snapping his fingers. The stone stool melted back into the platform, forming a seamless surface. Donovan coughed. "Show off," Mark gave him a tired smile, then turned and descended the stairs. Donovan settled back into his throne, watching the hills move beyond the columns.

Hours passed. Warships fanned out on either side of the castle, keeping a leisurely pace. Donovan slowly drifted back to sleep in his throne, waking with a start as horns blew. He sat up, blinking. "What's going on!"

Donovan stood and walked to the top of the stairs. He squinted beyond the columns, quickly spotting a dark shape as tall as a mountain. Dark clouds covered the sky, casting the lands in gray and shadow. As the shape grew closer, it revealed itself to be a massive city.

It was indeed like Minis Tirith. The bottom was wide, and encircled with a wall. The next level was smaller, and also protected by a wall. The layers rose up like a cake, ending with a gaint tree much like a weeping willow. Its branches and leaves flowed downward, forming a cover over the top levels of the city. Donovan glanced around, spotting Tokaroaka hurrying across the chamber. He was flanked by Lyra, Greis, and Fangson. "Get me a viewing spell!" Donovan shouted.

Sorcerers hurried to obey. A glassy oval appeared in the air before his throne, materializing into an image. It showed a close-up view of the city. Donovan studied its features. The walls were high and marked with towers on each level. At the top of the giant tree, a fortress unlike anything he had seen rested among the branches. It was curved, looping into itself, with towers that traveled out horizontally, then bent to rise vertically. Donovan could also make out the base of the city. It was a creature, barely rising above a forest of giant trees. The creature resembled a turtle, but with the legs and claws of a crustacean.

His servants reached the base of the stairs, Lyra breaking away to climb them. The other masters looked at her in anger, but she ignored them. "Get us within firing range," Donovan shouted. "Then stop, we're sending out an envoy," Mark appeared in the throne room, followed by Reqart, Babi and Princess Esymia. They all hastened to stare up at the viewing spell. "Princess Esymia," Donovan called, pointing at the image. "Do you recognize that city?"

Her expression showed that she did. "It is Theemoth," She said, her voice echoing around the columns. "Ruled by the line of Ulum,"

"And?" Donovan said, gesturing. "Are they hostile?"

"I do not know, they were ruled by my brother Calstar, as were the other lines," She fixed him with a piercing stare. "But you killed him, so it is any wonder who they serve now,"

Donovan snorted, rolling his eyes. "If you were helping Cortez he would be dead by now,"

Lyra reached the top of the stairs, rushing to him with a smile. "You seem your old self, my king,"

"Yeah, for now," Donovan said, gazing up at the view-spell. He glanced back down at Esymia. "How do I let them know I want to talk?"

The elf woman continued to stare into his eyes with the piercing gaze. "Allow me," She said, turning. She walked across the floor, her footsteps echoing. The masters and commanders parted, watching her. When Esymia reached the opening in the columns, she held out her hands. Color spilled forth from her fingers, shooting into the air like fireworks. They formed a symbol, one so bright Donovan and those in the throne room were forced to shield their eyes.

When Donovan lowered his arms, he saw colors rising up from the city. They too formed a symbol, just as bright as Princess Esymia's. She turned, looking up the throne at him. "They will receive your envoy,"

"Perfect," Donovan said, nodding. "Tokaroaka! Get me some champions! Princess Ninja too, if you can find her," He started down the steps, Lyra hurrying after him. When he reached the bottom, he glanced at Mark as he passed. "You coming?"

Mark nodded, then knelt down by Reqart. "Stay here, where it's safe,"

"I want to go with you," Reqart said, furrowing his brow. "I want to meet mother,"

"She may not be here," Mark said, patting his shoulder. "You should prepare yourself for that,"

Reqart seemed like he wanted to protest, but slowly deflated. "okay," He said, his voice soft. "But if you see her, tell her I'm up here,"

Mark smiled warmly. "I will," He stood and glanced at Babi, who stood next to the boy. "Can I ask you to keep him safe here?"

"You can," Babi said, kneeling down next to the boy and placing an arm around his shoulder. "We'll keep each other company,"

Mark turned to go, but Reqart broke away from Babi and hugged him. "Be careful father,"

Mark patted his head. "I will Reqart, this won't take long,"

Donovan waited for Mark to catch up. A large, slender figure appeared, wrapped in bandages. It was the champion Gitch, a strange creature with immense power. It was joined by King Orga, an armored Orga with a massive butcher sword. Princess Ninja climbed up into the throne room from the outside, passing between the columns. Tokaroaka approached Donovan, holding the wrapped head of the Shade Master. The young man accepted it, nodding in thanks, then passed it off to Gitch. The elongated creature took it like a prized treat, clutching it close.

A single warship rose up in front of the opening in the columns. Its side wheeled open, and a boarding plank extended. As Donovan and Mark waited, Princess Esymia joined them. Neither man said anything to her, and she did not say anything to them. When the boarding plank reached the edge of the throne room, the trio started across it, the champions following.

The interior of the warship was hot, and noisy. Donovan and the others were escorted by crewmembers to the front, where an Uhnut captain saluted. The short gnome-like creature stood next to a massive panel of wooden knobs and levers, too complex for Donovan to understand. Instead, the young man nodded. "Take us close, drop us of off by the gate and wait,"

The warship broke away from the castle. It turned in the air and traveled towards the city. The giant turtle-crab bearing it slowed, coming to a stop among the trees. The canopies around it swayed, the sky above growing darker.

When it neared the city, the warship slowed, descending through the air. Donovan could make out ships taking off from the different levels. They looked like Di Vinci's helicopter, but with more balloons, as well as crystals fanned out on either side in a neat array. "Fuck," Donovan said, his voice low. "That better not be more laser bullshit,"

"Sure looks like it," Mark said, staring intently. Donovan glanced at Princess Esymia, who did not react. Instead, she watched the city, her expression guarded.

The warship lowered near the shell of the giant turtle-crab, coming to a stop in front of a towering gate. It was hard to call it a gate, as it was a massive, bronze-colored circle, big enough for several warships to travel through. A person on foot certainly couldn't reach high enough to enter.

When the warship touched down on the shell, Donovan and the others made their way through to the gangplank. Crewmen lowered it for them, and the envoy walked down to the shell. They approached the gate.

Instead of opening, a circular stone platform appeared from behind the wall. It traveled up and over, then down, revealing several figures atop it. Donovan signaled for everyone to stop and wait.

The stone platform hovered inches above the monstrous shell. Robed figures stepped off it, some holding flags with strange symbols. As they neared, Donovan saw they were like elves, but with blue skin and halos. The halos were bright white, hovering over their heads and not quite connecting. Where there was a gap in the halo, a small blue fire burned.

The figures stopped before Donovan's envoy, a single robed figure stepping forward. It was a male elf, his eyes studying each member of the group. When he reached Princess Esymia, he folded his hands together. "Princess Esymia, of the line of Sarius," The blue elf said, nodding his head in a sign of respect. His voice was quiet, and reserved. "I did not think to find you among the defilers,"

The elf princess raised her chin. "I am a prisoner, it would seem, Gargara of the line of Ulum,"

"I see," The blue elf said, turning to the others. "And which of you speaks for the defilers?"

"Yeah that would be me," Donovan said, gesturing vaguely. "I'm their king or whatever. We're looking for an elf named Gwelenain, do you have her?"

The blue elf named Gargara tilted his head slightly, studying Donovan. The young man didn't like the look. "We do not," He said, his voice still soft.

Donovan waited for more, but Gargara was silent, simply staring at him. "Okay," Donovan said, slowly. "Do you know where we might find her?"

"I'm afraid searching for her is not a path that is open to you," Gargara said, glancing to the side, as if the conversation was trivial.

"And why's that? Are you going to stop us?"

Gargara kept his head turned, but his eyes found Donovan again. "That is what Liloth has commanded,"

"Liloth?" Princess Esymia said, her eyes wide. "The Great Spirit who would have my sister? Gargara, what are you saying! You cannot possibly serve him!"

The blue elf turned his head, staring into the princess's eyes. "You have been gone a long time, second daughter of the line of Sarius. Your brother is dead, his contract with the spirit yet unfulfilled. As such, Liloth now holds the title of Arch-Guardian Supreme, and commands the Guardian lines,"

"He is not a guardian!" Esymia exclaimed, her voice strained with emotion. "How can this be!"

"Things are changing," Gargara said, his voice growing soft. "That is all I will say. Now come, leave the defilers and join us. We will protect you,"

"Like you protected my sister??" Esymia said, her voice filled with aguish, as if the blue elf had betrayed her.

"Gitch," Donovan said. The champion extended an arm, passing the wrapped bundle. Donovan took it and tossed it between the two groups. In unraveled, the Shade Master head rolling from it. Gargara and the other elves stared down at it. Donovan pointed at the head. "That is the fate of all who oppose me. You will let us pass, or I will grind your city to dust, and nail your kind to crosses for all to see. Oh, and take some heads, I think I'm going to start collecting them,"

Gargara looked up, staring into Donovan's eyes. "It is war then, defiler. You are not the first to enter Eo, not even the strongest. The last invader was forced to watch as we flayed his army from dawn until dusk, putting hot coals to their skinned bodies. Then we took his eyes and did the same to him,"

Donovan scowled. "Looks like we've both got fucked-up plans for the loser. Better hope it's not you," Gargara gave him a small smile. It was not kind.

Mark stepped forward. "Wait, surely this is not the only way," He turned to the blue elf. "Do you really wish for there to be war? For untold death and destruction?"

Gargara turned without a word, heading back for the floating platform. The other elves stared at Donovan's envoy, then followed. Donovan spat to the side, then headed for his own warship. "Come on Mark. If they want a fight, we'll give them a fucking fight,"

With that, he stormed up the gangplank of his waiting warship. Mark stared up at the city, lines of worry creasing his face. Exhaling slowly, he shook his head, then turned and followed.

​

 

[Lop]

Dark clouds gathered above as the Vashn warship took off from the shell of the massive beast. Donovan walked purposely towards the steering compartment, his palms sweaty with nerves. He had no idea whether the Ulum guardians would attack right away, or give him time to return to his floating castle. In hindsight, it was foolish of him to go with the envoy. He had wanted to placate Mark, but more than that, Donovan wanted to see for himself what he was up against.

The blue-skinned elves had made it clear they would accept nothing short of his death, as well as the death of everyone who followed him. Donovan scowled at the thought as he entered the steering compartment.

"Hurry back," He said, nodding at the Uhnut captain. "We're sitting ducks out here,"

"They will not attack us yet," A voice said. Donovan glanced over his shoulder, seeing Princess Esymia following alongside Mark. Her voice had been quiet, and tinged with emotion.

Donovan studied her, his eyes still narrowed. "You could have gone with your kin," He said, turning back to the warship's viewport. "I doubt I would have noticed,"

"The line of Ulum is no friend to the line of Sarius. I would be no safer there than I am here,"

Beyond the viewport, the Vashn fleet grew closer as the warship sped towards it. Donovan's nerves did not improve. "They won't attack?" He said, gritting his teeth. "Why not. Only an idiot would let me return to my castle,"

Princess Esymia came up to stand beside him, her posture straight and her hands clasped in front of her. "For the Guardians this is not a battle. It is an opportunity for prestige over the other lines. They will first send out their champion, and you will send out yours. That is the most important part of this encounter. The slaughter that follows is only secondary,"

"So they don't even take me seriously as a threat?" Donovan said, a scowl setting in his face. "Are they that stupid? Didn't I destroy one of their fleets already? And kill their Shades? I definitely murdered the fuck out of their lead-" He stopped, glancing at the elf princess, then cleared his throat. "I've struck plenty of blows against them already,"

"Be careful," Princess Esymia said, her voice growing soft. "I do not think you fully grasp what is about to happen. Send your best warrior, and with luck, they will win against the Ulum's champion. In that, you may deny them the victory they truly desire, and they will view you as more than just beasts,"

Donovan took a deep breath, the scowl on his face remaining. "How was I supposed to know about the champion battle? I was going to launch an attack as soon as I returned,"

Princess Esymia didn't answer at first, watching as the warship rose up towards Donovan's floating castle. "All my kind think their ways and traditions are the only ones that matter. And that the lesser races strive to emulate them. None of the Guardian lines have ever left Eo, save mine. My brother Calstar was the only one who ever truly understood the practices of kingdoms outside these lands. In a way, he was both our doom, and our only chance at withstanding a true invasion, should it ever come,"

Anger bubbled up in Donovan. He turned on the elf princess, letting his emotion show clearly on his face. "I am not a true invasion? Elf arrogance will get you all killed. They cannot possibly conceive of all the ways my own people can wage war. I could easily skip the champion battle and launch a surprise attack,"

"And I will say it again; you do not fully grasp what is about to happen. Ulum champions are masters of death, but so are their armies. If your champion dies, or you do not adhere to their traditions, your last chance at being treated as equals will be gone. For then Gargara and the others will know you and all your followers are destined to perish by their hands,"

The warship slowed, the columns of the throne room appearing. Donovan turned away from the viewport and crossed the steering compartment, not bothering to answer. He passed Mark, who looked troubled, as well as Princess Ninja, Gitch and King Orga. They all silently followed behind him.

The crew rushed to extend the boarding ramp. Donovan walked across it, moving past the columns into his throne room. His masters and advisers gathered, waiting. Donovan stopped in front of them, searching their faces. He found Tokaroaka and gestured him over. The sorcerer hastened to approach as Donovan continued on towards the steps of his throne.

"Master," Tokaroaka said, falling into place beside him. Lyra also joined, walking on the other side with a determined expression.

"Charge the castle's crystal weapon,"

"I have already ordered it," The sorcerer said, his voice drifting out from behind his mask.

Donovan nodded. Fangson also approached, flanked by the master of ships. "It seems they want a duel," The young man said, stopping. He turned to his masters, looking at each of them in turn. "I will either choose Gitch, or that old man in the cage,"

Tokaroaka folded his hands together, bowing his head. "It will be…difficult, to get Habban to the site they wish the battle to take place. We lost quite a few sorcerers luring him back into his cage after the last battle, and he will attack anyone he sees,"

"Gitch it is," Donovan said, looking over their heads at the champion in question. The creature that resembled a mummified slender man crouched near the columns, watching the gathering. Donovan turned to Greis. "Have your ships ready, and pass along word that when I give them the command to attack, that is Belok's signal to do the same,"

"Yes my king," Greis said, bowing. He turned and hastened away, holding the hem of his robe.

Donovan shifted his attention to Fangson. "It will be difficult to assault the city with ground forces. It's on the back of a giant monster, and those walls are high. You'll have to figure out a way to get the transports over them," He tapped his chin. "Perhaps Belok and the warships can provide cover,"

"I will find a way," Fangson said, bowing his head. "Though the beast riders will be of little use,"

"That's fine," Donovan said, nodding. "Keep them back then. Get the infantry and golems inside the city any way you can, with as little losses as possible," The Montre commander raised his head and left the gathering, his shoulders set in determination. The young man gestured at Tokaroaka. "Go find Princess Esymia and ask where the duel will be held. Get Gitch there,"

The sorcerer bowed and left as well, leaving Lyra. Donovan briefly met her gaze, then headed for the steps to his throne. He heard others moving towards him, only looking as he reached the bottom step. Mark, Reqart and Babi followed. "You guys ready?" He said, starting up the stairs.

"I do not think that's possible," Mark said, his tone low. "I'm going to take Reqart to the most secure part of the castle,"

The boy shook his head. "No, I've been with uncle before when there's fighting. I want to be where he is,"

"Reqart," Mark began, his tone stern.

"This is probably the safest place," Donovan said, continuing to climb. "I'll have all my knights here, as well as the Montre.

"Safe from spells and ship fire?" Mark said. "I don't think that's true,"

Donovan paused on the steps, seeking out a sorcerer. He found several gathered near the base. "Raise the walls," Donovan said, then resumed walking up the steps.

The little light from the gray skies slowly disappeared as a massive stone ring rose up beyond the columns. As Donovan reached the top of the stairs, the wall locked into place with a rumbling echo, sealing all within the throne room. Bowls of fire were lit, as well as braziers, casting the circular chamber in dancing shadow. Donovan sat in his throne. The viewing spell materialized above him as Lyra, Mark, Reqart and Babi joined him.

The spell showed the city of Theemoth, as well as the surrounding forest. The Guardian's ships fanned out in three rows, one on top of the other, on either side. A single Vashn transport headed for the city. Donovan gestured, the view spell zooming in.

Waiting in front of the massive circular gate was a single figure. It was one of the guardians, dressed in curved plate armor adorned with gems. The figure's head was incased in a tall helmet shaped like the tree dominating the top of the city. Instead of leaves, links of chainmail hung down.

"What a fucking tool," Donovan murmured. A sound drew his attention. Princess Esymia reached the top of the stairs, her expression somber. She did not meet his gaze. "Come to join us princess?"

She said nothing as she took her place next to Mark and Reqart, looking up at the view spell. The shimmering oval showed the Vashn transport lowering onto the shell of the turtle-crab. Donovan watched as Gitch slowly made his way down a gangplank, his long limbs moving like a spider's.

"My king!" A voice called.

Donovan recognized the muffled sound; it was Tokaroaka. "What is it," He called from his throne.

"Utan-Gora's weapon has been charged, and awaits your command to activate!"

Glancing at the view-spell, Donovan regarded Gitch as the creature faced off against the champion. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "This is fucking stupid, they should have killed me when they had the chance," Donovan stood, pointing at the view spell. "Open fire! The warships as well! Destroy that tree holding the castle!"

"NO!" Princess Esymia said, her expression horrified. "You can't!"

"I can," Donovan said, sitting back down in his throne. "I'll show you exactly how my people wage war,"

The guardian turned to Mark, grabbing his hand. "Stop him! He'll bring a massacre upon us!"

"Donovan," Mark said, his expression alarmed. "I think it would be wise-"

He was interrupted by the throne room trembling. The view spell showed a massive red beam erupting from the floating castle, racing across the sky and impacting against the guardian city. A moment later, the Vashn warships opened fire with their cannons. Geometric shapes appeared in the air around them, then explosive spells followed. Donovan smiled.

The crystal-power beam continued, pulsing with energy as it hammered into the city. The guardians ships shifted, keeping formation. Narrow beams of light emitted from their crystals, dancing across the Vashn fleet. Warships on both sides of the castles tilted in the air, then exploded. Donovan was surprised by how many he'd lost in the first volley, and it showed on his face.

The floating castle's beam flickered, then faded. A swarm of dark figures raced across the sky towards the city of Theemoth; Belok and his winged warriors. The guardian city seemed to shimmer in the viewing spell. A moment later, thousands of curved patterns appeared around it, forming a cylinder wall that rose up into the sky.

"Fuck," Donovan said.

He was thrown from his chair as the throne room shook violently. The city spells tore apart the roof, wall and columns of the circular chamber. Debris rained down around Donovan as he plummeted over the edge of the platform.

Searing pain shot through his body as he hit the slanted floor and rolled down. Donovan felt bones break and shatter as continued tumbling. His HUD rapidly flashed red, obscuring his vision. He slammed into several advisers struggling to remain upright, then impacted against a column.

Donovan gasped in pain, coughing up blood. He could see several bones sticking out from his skin as the HUD continued to flash. He tried to speak a healing spell, but his throat wouldn't form the words. Bodies tumbled down around him, some hitting the columns next to him with sickening sounds. Donovan's vision began to fade. He tried with all his might to perform the spell in his mind.

It was almost impossible to concentrate. With one final, momentous effort, he screamed the words to the spell in his mind. His HUD sparkled, then resumed flashing red. Donovan felt one of his lungs re-inflating, as well as his ribs mending. He gasped for breath, feeling the sweet, sweet air as it passed through his body. Coughing, Donovan spat up blood, then mumbled the words to another healing spell.

The floating castle shook again, columns and debris raining down around him. A chunk of masonry landed dangerously close, showering him with dust. He felt his legs straighten out, the bones and nerves connecting. Unfathomable pain raced up his spine, then darkness consumed him.

When Donovan awoke, he felt the world swaying. He blinked, finding himself in the arms of a Vashn knight. The knight was missing his helmet, revealing a human male with matted hair and blood running down his face. The knight was surrounded by others of his order, as well as Montre guards. They made their way along an uneven corridor, struggling against the slanted floor.

Donovan coughed, then closed his eyes as he murmured another healing spell. He felt his arms twist and bend, forcing him to gasp out in pain. The knight's head snapped down, his eyes wide. "My king!"

"fuck," Donovan said, blood seeping from his mouth. He turned his head and spat it out. "put me down,"

The knight paused, the other warriors doing the same. The young man slowly stood on his feet, stumbling as he slid towards the wall. The knight, as well as a Montre guard, reached out and steadied him. "Careful master!" The lizard said, his tongue forking out nervously. "The castle has fallen from the air!"

Putting a hand to his head, Donovan looked around. "The battle," He said, wincing. "Who's…winning,"

"I cannot say my king," The knight said. "We have heard word that the guardians send their forces to assault Utan-Gora now that it rests on the ground. The others are rushing to man the walls,"

"Though it will be hard," One of the Montre said, glancing around the slanted hallway.

Donovan took a shaky step forward, then another. His body seemed to respond, and the only pain came from aches and bruises in his side. He rested one hand against the wall, pausing. "Mark…Reqart…where are they,"

"Forgive us master," The Montre said, gripping his trident. "You were brought to us by Tokaroaka and King Orga, who managed to retrieve you from the throne room,"

Donovan continued on, keeping his hand on the wall. "Well at least they're still alive," He said, holding his bruised side with the other. "Lead me to my armor and sword, now,"

The Montre rushed ahead of him, dropping to all fours for better balance. The Vashn knights brought up the rear, their swords drawn. The castle groaned around them, a distant rumble echoing down the corridor. Donovan tried to concentrate on a dimly lit opening ahead, but his thoughts were jumbled. He opened his HUD, pausing to flip through the pages with his hand. He studied the damage to his body.

There were no broken bones that he could see, or internal bleeding. The image detailing his person show darkened spots on his side, which he already knew to be bruised. Steadying his breathing, Donovan flipped through more pages, then sank the rest of his experience points into his martial ability. He closed the HUD with a wave of his hand and continued on. The knights quickly followed.

They emerged into a kitchen covered in scattered pots and broken plates. The bodies of cooks and servants lay crumbled against a wall. The Montre shifted, heading for an archway. There were more corpses in the hallway beyond, some of them servants, others warriors. Donovan grit his teeth as he passed them, anger flaring in his chest.

After a staircase and another hallway, both thankfully free of bodies, the young man found himself in familiar passages. He half-stumbled, half ran after the Montre, who led him to the doors leading to his chamber. The lizards gripped the rings and opened them for him, Donovan grasping the door to pull himself inside.

His chamber was a mess. Donovan searched for his wardrobe, finding it smashed against a wall. His armor and sword lay haphazardly around it. The young man took careful steps towards it. The Montre rushed past him, bending down to pick up the metal pieces.

Together with the knights, the lizard guards helped him into his armor as he leaned against the remains of his bed. When he had secured the last piece, Donovan looked towards the balcony. Cries and fighting drifted in from outside. His hands found the Montre's arms as the guards helped him towards it.

Donovan emerged onto the balcony, struggling up towards the railing. He could see the canopy of the forest and grayed skies. Set against the clouds was Theemoth and the top of the turtle-crab. Smoke rose from the upper levels of the walled city, and the tree at the top sagged dangerously. Thousands of tiny black shapes flew around it. Guardian airships unleashed their lasers in random bursts, many of them slowly sinking as they burned brightly. Donovan reached the railing and looked behind him. The top of his castle was missing, many of the towers collapsed in on themselves. Vashn warships unleashed cannons and spell fire, while others exploded and sank. Soldiers manned the ramparts that weren't destroyed. They unleashed volleys of crossbolts towards the forest.

Donovan looked down over the railing. Thousands of shapes moved towards the castle. He was forced backwards as arrows flew past the railing. "Fuck!" Donovan yelled, gripping his sword. "Fuck fuck fuck!" He looked around furiously, then paused as black smoke rose up over the railing. It solidified, forming six Shade assassins gripping swords. He pointed at them. "Get the fuck off my castle!"

They turned, bending their knees and leaping from the railing. Donovan approached, watching them plummet down and land among the other dark figures. Black smoke poured up the side of Utan-Gora, flowing over the railing and forming at least a score more Shades. Donovan took a step back in surprise, the knights and Montre rushing to engage the assassins.

He continued backing up as more and more Shades formed on the railing. They leapt down onto the balcony, seemingly unfazed by the slanted surface. "Kill each other!" Donovan yelled. He repeated the order as the Shades turned on each other.

A blur shot up past the railing. A moment later it landed, cracking the entire balcony. The blur was in fact the Ulum champion, his curved armor smeared with blood. He swung his sword, the blade crackling with black lighting. Both Montre and Vashn knights were cleaved in half, their bodies sliding down the balcony. Donovan moved to the side as the top half of a knight tumbled past him.

The champion took something from under his arm, holding it out in front of him. It was the head of Gitch. "I heard you were collecting them," The champion said, his voice low and full of mirth. He tossed the head, forcing Donovan to duck as it flew past him.

Snarling, Donovan pointed at the armored guardian. "Why don't you blackflip off my fucking castle and die,"

The champion raised his sword and rested it across his shoulder. "I feel magic in your words, more powerful than I have felt in a long time," He took a step forward, gesturing with his free hand. "But I have bathed in the essence of mana itself, and fought creatures whose veins pumped with it instead of blood. I think you will be far easier to kill then they,"

Donovan took another step back, bracing himself against the wall of the balcony. He raised his sword, though the point trembled in the air. "A-alright," Donovan said. "Come on then, I'll at least take one of your limbs with me to hell,"

The champion chuckled, unslinging his weapon. "Yes, very good defiler. Let us trade barbs, it amuses me,"

He strolled towards Donovan, then paused and looked up. Figures rained down around him, landing on the balcony. They straightened up to reveal Rook assassins. The short creatures drew weapons and charged him, leaping upon his armor. The champion staggered under their weight, then swung his sword. Black electricity crackled in the air, sending the Rook flying. More dropped down from above. The assassins who landed on the champion drove their knives down again and again. Others gathered around his legs and waist, plunging their weapons in any cracks they could find.

The champion roared, his entire body arcing with black lighting. The Rook burned, dropping off him like flies. Donovan shielded himself with his arm, only lowering it when the lighting faded. The champion slowly lowered his arms to his side, readjusting his grip on his sword. "I feel...poisoned,"

"Yeah that's assassins for you," Donovan said, feeling with his free hand for the entrance to the balcony. He found it, slowly sliding along the wall. The champion adopted a stance, pointing his sword at Donovan. Bending his knees, he charged.

Donovan's martial ability activated, slowing time down around him. The champion was still fast, blurring towards him at a rapid clip. The young man brought up his sword with one hand and pulled himself into the archway with the other.

He fell in slow-motion into his room. The champion fell after him, his sword aimed at Donovan's chest. The young man brought up his sword, barely managing to parry as he fell. The force behind the champion's attack was immense, sending Donovan in a slow spin. He impacted against the wall, bracing himself and pushing off it.

The champion landed perfectly on his feet, then ran along the slanted wall with his sword held out at his side. Donovan brought up his own weapon, blocking the first swing, then the second, then the third. The champion's forth swing was charged with black lighting. The energy traveled along Donovan's blade, seeping into his armor and sending his entire body into spasms.

The young man staggered, his martial ability deactivating. The electricity arcing through his body petered out, leaving his skin raw with burns. The champion slowly approached, idly patting his hand with his sword. "I must thank you," The armored Guardian said, his voice drifting out from his helm. "Though you dishonored yourselves, I will gain great renown for the many I have slain during this battle, both for myself and the line of Ulu-"

The castle shook, giving pause to the approaching champion. A great ringing echoed through the entire structure, then a sound like a roaring river grew. The champion slowly put a hand to his chest, as if feeling his heart. The castle continued to shake, the ringing growing louder. Donovan glanced out towards the balcony. A massive shockwave built up, traveling outward through the forest. Trees were thrown up like a tidal wave, leaves and limbs blowing in through the entrance.

"mark," Donovan whispered. The champion shielded himself from the flying debris. Donovan fell to his chest as branches whipped past him. He dragged himself across the floor, then tucked in his limbs and let gravity pull him towards the door. Donovan tumbled across the stone, his body exiting his chamber and slamming into the far wall. The breath was forced from his body.

The champion fell after him, landing on Donovan and driving the blade into his stomach. "You are going nowhere," The armored Guardian said, twisting the handle. Donovan cried out in pain. "First I will kill you, then I will seek out the source of that spell,"

Smoke seeped down the hallway, flowing past Donovan and the champion. A figure rose from the black stream as the rest continued onward. It was a Shade assassin. "Great one," The Shade said. "We have breached the walls, but one of the defilers has wiped out much of our forces in the wood,"

"I saw," The champion said, twisting the handle further. Donovan cried out again in pain, gasping for air. "I will seek that one out after I finish here. You must find Princess Esymia and retrieve her,"

"Belay that order!" Donovan yelled, arching his back as the sword dug into his stomach. The Shade froze, as did the river of smoke. The young man raised a trembling hand and pointed at the champion. "Kill this…fucking clown,"

The smoke heaved up, dozens of figures solidifying. The champion glanced down at Donovan. "I should have taken your tongue first,"

"yeah," Donovan said, tears of pain streaming down his face. "hindsight's a bitch,"

Roaring, the champion pulled his sword from Donovan's gut and swung it at the Shades. They swarmed over him, their blades hacking and slashing. The young man rolled over on his stomach and began dragging himself across the floor. He felt blood draining from his wound as his HUD flashed.

"fuck," Donovan gasped. "I…don't want to die…not like this," The sound of furious fighting followed after him, as well as the crackle of electricity. He put one arm after the other, pulling himself along. His HUD continued to flash red. Donovan tried to murmur a healing spell, but his mana was dangerously low.

The sound of heavy footsteps sounded, then Vashn knights appeared from around the corner. They were led by the Order Master Hayume. The master spotted Donovan, his eyes going wide. "The king!" He yelled. "The king is wounded! To his aid brothers!" The knight yelled battle cries, filling the hall as they rushed forward. The first to reach Donovan helped him up, then Master Hayume was by his side. "My king!" He said, finding the wound in his stomach.

"Heal me," Donovan said, gritting his teeth. The order master obeyed, speaking the words to the spell. The bleeding stopped, then Donovan felt the wound close up. It wasn't perfect, but he could stand steadily on his own two feet. "The battle," the young man said. "What's happening,"

"I cannot speak for those outside Utan-Gora," Hayume said. "But the hero known as Marcus has slain those who assaulted its walls, allowing us to come find you," The master knight glanced down the hall as knights and Shades battled the Ulum champion. "These are the first we've seen inside,"

Donovan gripped his sword. "Good, let's finish this," He turned and charged the champion. The armored Guardian swung his sword, slicing several knights in half. He made to swing it back around, but the Shades gripped his arm, weighing him down. The knights did the same to the other arm. The champion's body crackled with black lightning, electrocuting those that held him. No sooner did their bodies fall away than more knights and Shades grabbed on, pinning his arms to the wall. One of the assassins gripped his helmet, tearing it away.

Breaking into a sprint, Donovan let out a primal scream and aimed his sword. The champion's face was calm, his features graceful. He closed his eyes as Donovan neared. The young man drove his sword into the Guardian's head.

The hall fell silent. The knights and Shades slowly let go of the Champion, his body sliding to the floor. Donovan breathed heavily, letting go of the sword as his hands shook. He slowly turned to Hayume and pointed a trembling finger at the assassins. "Finish them off,"

Donovan took unsteady steps down the hall as the knights carried out his orders behind him. Hayume ducked under the young man's arm, supporting him. "My king, we need to get you to a proper healer,"

"No," Donovan said, shaking his head. "We need to figure out who the fuck is winning this battle,"

The Order Master nodded, guiding the young man forward. They passed corridors and chambers littered with debris and corpses. The occasional group of Montre guards, Vashn knights and Rook assassins met them, stopping in alarm to assist. Donovan told them all to secure the castle instead.

The pair reached a staircase leading down to a long hall. It was dark, save for a few burning torches. They walked along it, passing a wide entry-way. Donovan briefly glanced at it, then paused.

Within was a large chamber. The bodies of sorcerers lay heaped against one of the walls, and in the center, a large crystal hung suspended from the ceiling. A figure knelt in front of it, despite the slanted floor. Within the crystal was a body. Donovan turned, prompting Hayume to assist him through the entry.

As he neared, Donovan saw the body within the crystal was an Uhnut girl. He recognized her, one of his champions. She was supposed to be a talented sorcerer, though Donovan had not seen her since the battle of the Risen Node. The figure kneeling in front of the crystal turned out to be Tokaroaka. The Feyman sorcerer was missing his mask, shadows from several torches dancing across the back of his head. One of the sleeves of his robe hung limp at his side, the arm that was supposed to be there clearly gone.

Tokaroaka was mumbling something as Donovan neared. He strained his ears to pick up the words. "-thought I had more time…" The sorcerer raised his remaining hand, pressing it against the crystal, then lowered his head. The Uhnut girl seemed to slumber within. "I'm sorry Yesmella, I should have never sent you into battle. I was…am, so proud of you. And I can think of no better place to die than here..,for you were the only family I had,"

"I don't recall giving you permission to die," Donovan said, gently pushing Hayume away.

Tokaroaka slowly raised his head, then struggled to his feet. He turned, staring at Donovan with a tear-stained face. One of his eyes was missing, and a jagged wound ran from the socket down to his mouth. "My king, forgive me. The battle is lost, and it is all my fault. I have failed you and-"

"The battle is not lost until I say it is lost," Donovan said, narrowing his eyes. "Donovan Ebert is King of the armies of Vashn, not Tokaroaka," He nodded his head at Hayume. "Heal him as best you are able, my mana's low,"

"Yes master," Hayume said, moving towards the sorcerer.

Donovan watched the knight perform the spell, his gaze shifting to the Uhnut sleeping within the crystal. "You said she's your daughter? Is she half-Uhnut then?"

"Adopted," Tokaroaka said, lowering his head.

"Hm," Donovan said, his tone disinterested. He turned, heading for the door. "Clean yourself up and see to the damage in this castle. I'm going outside to assess the damage,"

"Master," Hayume said. "Allow me to-"

Donovan held up a hand as he walked. "Gather your knights Hayume and find my surviving masters. My hands aren't shaking anymore, which means I'm probably about to get angry. I want warriors for when that happens, so I can do something about it,"

The corridor beyond the chamber led to another staircase, and then a large, vaulted chamber. The floor was littered with smashed tables and benches, and the far wall had crumbled. Donovan could make out grayed skies beyond. Standing by the ruined wall were a dozen Rook assassins and two Montre warriors. They stood as if they were guarding the entrance, several of them looking wounded. Donovan headed towards the opening, passing them and climbing up the rubble. The Rook rushed to help him, and the young man didn't protest. The pair of Montre followed as well.

The small group emerged from the castle, Donovan finally finding his feet on steady ground. A scene of destruction spread out before him. The forest was no longer standing, the trees felled as far as the eye could see. It looked like a volcano explosion has passed through, or a hurricane. Corpses lay tangled among the trees.

Beyond the destroyed forest was Theemoth. The turtle-crab still stood, but smoke poured in thick columns from the city atop its back. The tree atop it was felled, its trunk having carved a large opening through the walls. Guardian ships retreated from the city. Donovan slowly turned, taking in his own forces.

There were far fewer warships in the Vashn fleet. He counted at least a hundred, but could make out many wrecked hulls littering the ground around his crashed castle. Sighing he turned back to the destroyed forest.

He was surprised to see three figures he had not seen before. They were robed, standing atop a felled trunk. One of them raised a hand, pointing at Donovan. Shadows poured out from the feet of the three figures, racing along the ground towards the young man. Donovan took a step back, furrowing his brow.

He tried to run, but the smoke was under his feet in the blink of an eye. He was enveloped, his vision clouding and turning dark. Donovan felt himself spin faster and faster. The smoked seethed around him, then suddenly dissipated.

Falling to his knees, the young man vomited. He couldn't see straight, then felt something hard strike his face. Donovan rocked backwards, impacting against a smooth surface and sliding. He struggled upright, blinking and looking around.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He was in a dimly-lit chamber made of stone. Shade assassins stood in a circle around him, while others stood upside-down on the ceiling and stared down at him. Still others crouched on the walls.

The circle parted, allowing a single figure through. It was a young Guardian in a flowing red and white dress, though not like the blue-skinned Ulum. This one had pale red skin, as well as small horns protruding from her head. The only reason Donovan knew her to be a Guardian was because of her pointed ears sticking out from her long, white hair.

"This is the leader of the defilers?" She said, her expression unimpressed. "He looks like a child,"

Donovan massaged his wrists, looking around at the Shades. "The fuck? Did you just teleport me?"

The girl regarded Donovan, though the contempt on her face remained. A shade leaned in, whispering in her ear. She sniffed. "They tell me you dishonored the contest of champions, and nearly destroyed Theemoth,"

"In my defense," Donovan said, struggling to his feet. A Shade kicked his legs out from under him, sending the young man back to the floor.

"You can say nothing to redeem yourself," The girl said, brushing a strand of white hair from her face. "The line of Ulum was one of the few I actually liked, and it will take them centuries to recover because of you," She turned, passing back through the circle of Shades.

"What, no introduction?" Donovan said. He felt a boot slam into his back, pinning him to the ground.

The girl paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. She gave him a small smile. "No, no introduction. Only death for one such as you. But not yet. I must speak with my father first, then we will have a little fun," She resumed walking, headed for a narrow door.

The Shades dragged Donovan from the floor, pushing him towards the wall. His wrists were bound with manacles, as well as his ankles. A Shade brought up a final iron ring, clasping it around his neck. They stepped back, one of them tugging on the chains to ensure they were tight. The red-skinned Guardian watched from the entry, then disappeared into the hall beyond. The Shades filed out of the chamber from the floor, walls and ceiling. When they had left, a barred door was slammed into place. Donovan heard it locked. He slowly sank his head, exhaling.

A flash caused his head to jerk up. Purple smoke swirled in the middle of the chamber, then trailed outward. It faded, revealing a woman in a colorful jester's outfit. She held a stick in one hand, connected to a smiling stage-mask that covered her face. The woman bowed low, sweeping the mask away. The bells on the end of her jester's hat jingled.

"Ta-da!" She said, straightening back up with a crazed smile. "Found you!"

Donovan's eyes went wide. "Me…Melissa? Is that you?"

The woman put a finger to her chin and frowned, deep in thought. "Hmmm, no, not Melissa, sorry!" She lifted up on one foot, posing with her arms over her head. "I'm She-Joker! Or am I…?" She narrowed her eyes, looking around the empty chamber in suspicion. "Well I have to be, She-Joker was told to find you, and here you are!" She approached Donovan, leaning in close. "And here I am! The most fun person in the land!" Her face lit up with surprise. "Oh! That must mean I am She-Joker!" She clapped. "Hurray!"

"Oh Melissa…" Donovan said, his head lowering as tears formed in his eyes. "What did this world do to you…"

​

 

[Lop]

Ten Years Ago​

Melissa Doutry ran with all her might, the light of the largest moon shining down around her. It illuminated the grass as she sprinted, reflecting off the closed bulbs of the pale white flowers that dotted the fields.

Next to her ran Alyssa, and behind them, Grace and Babi. The only sound in the nighttime air was their ragged breathing, as well as a distant, hollow hissing. It was the hiss that spurred them onward, announcing the steady pursuit of a creature too horrible to think about.

Not that Melissa could think of anything. Her mind was blank, her brain pumping with adrenaline. She leapt over a small rut, then heard Alyssa trip behind her. Melissa came to a halt, trying to catch her breath. She half-stumbled, half-ran back to her friend, reaching down to help her up. Grace stopped and did the same, the girl Babi taking the opportunity to glance behind them.

"what.." Babi said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "what is that thing!"

"Just go!" Alyssa said, scrambling to her feet. "Leave me, I can't run like you guys!" She gasped for breath. "I haven't spent my points!" Melissa had, she just remembered. Grace seemed to come to the same realization, scooping up Babi in her arm, the other gripping an intricate spear. Melissa grabbed Alyssa's legs, hefting her over her shoulder in a clumsy motion. Alyssa made a noise of surprise. "Hey! What are you doing!"

Melissa made to run, then slowed. "Bri!" She said, another realization consuming her. "She's still back at camp! We have to go get her!"

"The dragon guys will protect her!" Grace yelled, sprinting ahead of her with Babi. The hissing grew closer, prompting Melissa to let out a cry of frustration. She took off, following after Grace towards a distant moon-lit hill. Melissa concentrated on the top. She just had to reach it, that was her goal. Her lungs burned and a cramp stabbed at her side. Melissa couldn't stop though. She had to reach the top of the hill. Reach the top, and everything would be fine.

The girls hit the bottom of the slope, struggling up it. Melissa knew she had powers now, agility, acrobatics, and others, but she didn't know how to activate them besides her inherent strength. The young woman couldn't even concentrate as she carried Alyssa over her shoulders.

Grace put on an extra burst of speed, reaching the top of the hill first. Melissa came up behind her, Alyssa slapping her back. "Put me down!" She did so, sliding her friend off her shoulder. Grace set down Babi as well.

The younger girl steadied herself, then pointed. "Look! I see the monster!"

The friends all stared. The bright moon shone down over the field, small sparkles dancing among the grass. A black river snaked through the sparkles, hiding them as well as the moonlight. It grew closer, seemingly seeking them out.

"Shit!" Grace yelled. "How do I use this harry potter shit!"

Babi narrowed her eyes, then turned to Grace and tugged on the spear. "Give me my weapon, I'll save you!"

"No!" Grace yelled, tearing the spear away from her. "You're not fighting, understand! I'm going to do that for you!"

"Then do it!" Melissa said, putting her hands to her mouth as the black river reached the bottom of the hill. She let out a cry as it started up the slope. Her mind racing, Melissa threw open her HUD. With a gesture she found her abilities page. "Activate! Activate activate activate!"

Babi threw out her hand. Geometric shapes appeared around her, rotating slightly and then locking into place. Several spears made of light launched from her palm, sailing down towards the black river. It snaked around the first two, but the third struck it in the center.

A sound like metal grinding on metal erupted from the black river. Melissa realized it was a monstrous cry, her eyes going wide as she covered her ears. The river reared up, a mouth opening up near the front. Melissa stared into a bottomless pit within, strange shapes bubbling inside. Teeth slowly grew into sharp points, then the river surged forth. Her hand smacked at an ability on her HUD in panic.

Melissa felt herself bend, then snap like a rubber-band. Copies of herself flew out of her body, the other Melissa's tumbling across the hill in heaps. They slowly got up, giggling and prancing around. "wha…" Melissa said, taking a step back. "what the hell,"

The river plunged down, consuming one of the copies, then raised up and ate another. It slammed down on the hill again and again, scooping up the other Melissa's like a hunger-crazed bird. The copies laughed, dancing around and crying out in surprise as the black river snatched them.

"Melissa!" Alyssa yelled. "Do that again! Distract it!"

"Uh, okay, okay," The young woman said, her eyes searching her HUD. "Here! I got it!" She pressed the ability, and her HUD flashed. More copies of herself bloomed forth, giggling and tumbling down around her. They straightened up and bowed to each other, then partnered up and began skipping in a circle.

"Let's GO!" Grace yelled, hefting Babi over her shoulder and taking off. Melissa watched the other versions of her, a dazed expression on her face.

"MELISSA!" Alyssa yelled, shaking her. "Please!"

Nodding her head, Melissa snapped out of it and focused. "Right! Right I got you!" She grabbed Alyssa in both arms, carrying her like princess. Her feet hit the ground as she put all her effort into running down the other side of the slope.

Melissa tripped, crying out in surprise. Alyssa threw up her hands to shield herself, but then froze. Time seemed to slow around the two girls. Melissa blinked in surprise, then found her legs working on their own. She flipped once, twice, three times, doing a triple summersault in the air.

She landed at the bottom of the hill, beating Grace and Babi. Melissa gasped, time resuming its normal speed. "what…the fuck,"

Alyssa also looked surprised, glancing around in shock. She looked up at Melissa. "did you just…?"

"No talking!" Grace yelled, blowing past them in a full sprint. "Just run!"

Melissa obeyed, carrying Alyssa close to her. She chanced a look over her shoulder. The black river was on the top of the hill, pecking at her copies and sucking them up in an instant. The dark mass finished, raising its head to the moon and letting out the same metallic cry as before, but this time louder. With a hiss it slammed down on the crest and snaked after them at a rapid pace.

"Fuck!" Melissa yelled, trying to run faster. Ahead of them was another hill, and then another. Beyond that was a fourth hill that was larger than the others, a ruined stone building atop it. It looked like a strange mausoleum to Melissa, the moonlight basking its grayed surface and reflecting off something within.

"There!" Babi yelled, struggling in Grace's grasp until she was riding on her shoulders. "That's a defensible spot! We can make a stand!"

"That's a big word for a girl your age," Grace said, gritting her teeth as she concentrated on running.

"Master taught me about defensible spots," Babi said, glancing behind her. Melissa saw the little girl's eyes go wide. She could guess why. The young woman redoubled her efforts, trying to catch up to Grace.

They ran up the second hill, the hiss chasing after them. Down the other side, and then a short distance to the third hill. Melissa's breathing was ragged, and she knew she couldn't carry Alyssa for much longer. Adjusting her friend onto one arm using all her newfound strength, she accessed her HUD. It had saved her once, maybe it could do it again.

She found a strange ability called obfuscate, which had warning signs around it. Reaching the top of the third hill, Melissa paused and turned around. The black river seemed to be expanding, consuming the second hill in darkness as it flowed over it. Melissa threw out her hand, concentrating. She activated the ability.

A gulf opened up in the small valley between the second and third hill. The middle of the black river plunged down it, its end parts struggling to dig into the earth for support. Bright lights flashed in the air above the gulf, one after the other. Melissa closed her eyes tightly, as did Alyssa. It was enough to give anyone an epileptic seizure.

When the flashing stopped, Melissa opened her eyes. The black river pulsed with a strange red color, then it reared up one of its ends and opened its maw. Another cry rang out, this one louder than any of the others before it. Melissa was forced to drop her friend and cover her ears. Alyssa did the same as she hit the grass.

"I'm coming baby!" A sing-song voice cried out. "Don't you worry your big ol' handsome self, your darling is here!"

A figure appeared at the top of the first hill the girls had climbed. The moonlight shown down, revealing it to be a woman dressed in fine clothes and a wide-brimmed hat. Four white, spidery legs extended from her back, swinging the woman side to side as they carried her.

The black river spasmed, crying out again with its horrible, grinding voice. The woman used her spider legs to wade above the darkness. She cooed, the legs lowering her so she could pet it. "You poor, poor thing, did the mean girls use awful magic on you?" The river roared, its maw opening and closing. "Yes yes," The woman said, continuing to pet its murky surface. "I know, they're being so rude to you aren't they!" The spider legs brought her up, dangling the woman at her full height. She raised her chin, staring directly at Melissa and Alyssa. "Well let's fix that, shall we? We'll show them how to treat a big, strong fellow right,"

"Melissa," Alyssa said, her voice quaking. "run,"

The young woman turned and scooped up her friend, then ran full speed towards the last hill with the ruins. Grace and Babi had already reached the top, shouting back down for the two to hurry. Melissa ran with all her might.

She collapsed at the crest, nearly dropping Alyssa onto a stone jutting out of the ground. At the last moment her legs took over, performing a graceful sweep that carried her friend into the grass. Melissa slid, coming to a stop next to another stone.

"They're coming!" Babi yelled, holding out her hand. More geometric shapes appeared, and spears made of light launched forth. The black river curved around them as they impacted in the grass. The woman used her spider legs to jump out of the way.

"Come now," The woman said, frowning. "Ya'll are being so very difficult!"

"Stay away from us!" Grace yelled, holding out both her hands. The same shapes that Babi had summoned appeared in front of her palms. A moment later a swarm of spears exploded, raining down on the river and the woman. Many of them found their mark in the murky surface, with one of them impaling the woman's left-most spider-leg. Both she and the river screamed in pain.

A look of fury crossed the woman's face as the light-spear faded. "Oh I will make you suffer for that," The black river trembled, then expanded. It continued growing, then rose up like a massive ocean wave. The center opened up, revealing thousands of sharp teeth.

Alyssa turned and pointed at the ruins. "Inside! Go!" The four girls sprinted towards it, passing through a crumbling archway. Inside was a hall, much like a church. Its walls were standing, but the roof was gone. In the center was a large, rusted metal bowl tilted against a stone.

Melissa could hear the hissing approach. Black streams seeped into the ruins, flowing around the edges and slowly spreading across the floor towards the center. The four girls climbed up the rusted bowl, trying to reach the top of the stone it rested against.

"We're trapped!" Grace yelled, pulling Babi up.

"That you are darlings," The woman said, emerging from the shadows with her spider legs. "Now why don't ya'll be good little girls and let my shadow have his way with you. He is oh-so-hungry after all,"

Alyssa stared down at the flowing darkness, then threw her hand horizontally in front of her. Her HUD appeared as she concentrated on the pages. Melissa looked through her own abilities, finding something called flash-smoke. She activated it, her screen blinking yellow. A dialogue box appeared, informing her that her mana was low. A moment later three ball materialized in her hand.

"what?" Melissa said, furrowing her brow in confusion. She gripped them, then took one and flung it with all her might.

The ball landed in the black river and exploded in brilliant light. Smoke poured out as the river screamed in anger. Alyssa watched, her hand pausing on her HUD. "Light!" She yelled. "The thing hates flashes and those spears!"

"Shit!" Melissa yelled, flinging her second ball, as well as the third. Both of them landed, exploding with flashes and clouds of smoke. They expanded, blocking everyone's view.

The woman's laughter drifted around. "Oh you poor, poor fools. How are you gonna see anything with all this fog? Oh, but me and my shadow can see just fine. In fact, I can see your hearts a' beating and a' pumping with fear inside you, bright as day!"

"Shut up!" Grace yelled, gripping her intricate spear. "Come here so I can stab the fuck out of you!"

The woman's laughter grew. "Nooo noooo, I don't think so. In fact, I believe I'm going to go and find that friend of yours you left behind! She did look oh-so-tasty,"

"You leave her alone!" Melissa screamed, scrambling to activate another ability. Her HUD flashed, informing her she didn't have enough mana. "Fuck!"

The woman's laughter echoed around the smoke-filled ruins, fading into the distance. Melissa watched as darkness rose up around the bowl and stone. It teetered over them on all sides, threatening to come crashing down.

A brilliant flash erupted, driving away the smoke in an instant. Melissa was forced to shield her eyes, Grace and Babi crying out in alarm. When the young woman lowered her hands, she saw Alyssa standing bravely in the center of the stone, her fists at her side. She stared up at the black river with a defiant expression. Beside her floated a brilliant sphere, emitting so much light Melissa couldn't look at it directly.

"Alyssa…?" she said, covering her eyes.

Her friend didn't respond, instead pointing at the darkness. The black river shied away, trembling. The sphere of light shot forward, slamming into the dark liquid walls and exploding. Melissa was thrown back, her hands grasping for the stone as she slid off it. She landed in a heap, Grace and Babi falling down next to her. The three girls felt for each other and huddled together as light flashed again and again. The black river roared in pain.

Grace slowly got to her feet, helping Babi up and shielding her from the brightness. Melissa pushed herself off the floor, standing next to them. The trio did their best to look up at the stone. Alyssa still stood atop it, her hand extended. The sphere of light circled around the ruins, slamming into the black river. The creature cried out again. The sound was one of fury.

Alyssa pointed up, then brought her fist down. The sphere rose, its brilliance lighting up the crumbled stone like the sun. It came back down into the center of the black river, then exploded. With one final bellow of rage, the darkness subsided, draining into the cracks of the floor and disappearing.

Silence descended upon the ruins. The sphere slowly rose, hovering in front of Alyssa. Melissa gazed in awe at her friend, brushing her hair away from her face. "what…the hell?"

Alyssa turned, her chin raised and a fierce expression on her face. "I put all my experience into one ability," She pointed at the sphere. "That thing, the aspect of light, or whatever it was called,"

"whoa," Grace said, staring as well. "Not bad Alyssa…"

"C'mon," She said, hopping down from the stone. The sphere hovered after her. "Let's go find Bri,"

Melissa's heart stopped, suddenly remembering her girlfriend. "right…" She said, her hands curling into fists. "Let's go find her,"

Nine Years Ago​

The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. On the horizon were hints of clouds, but it would be a long time before they made their presence known. Melissa stood on a grassy slope. She wore a long cloak, as well as hide pants and a loose silk shirt. Her black hair blew in the wind. Inhaling deeply, Melissa took in the scents of the flowers around her.

She started forward, walking towards a large forest that spread out as far as the eye could see in either direction. The interior was dark as night, and the treeline was marked with skeletons. Most of the bones were nailed to the surfaces of the trunks, facing out towards the field. Some were simply piled by the roots, forming small white pyramids.

Melissa was unfazed. She hummed to herself, working her fingers on one hand. A coin appeared between her pointer and middle, and she expertly moved it along the knuckles as she walked. As she neared the trees, shapes began to move about near the trunks.

One of them stepped out of the forest onto the field. It was a young woman, with an animal-skin tunic pinned around her shoulders. She had cat ears, as well as a tail, and held a bow in one hand. On her back was slung a quiver bristling with arrows.

"Heyyyy!" Melissa said, palming the coin and waving. "It's me, I'm back," The catgirl watched her approach with narrowed eyes. Other sets of eyes blinked from within the forest. Melissa came to a stop in front of the catgirl, putting a hand to her hip. "You're not going to give me trouble this time, are you? Cause I know Bri wouldn't like that," The catgirl scowled, then turned on her heel and hunched her shoulders. She stalked into the forest. After a beat, Melissa followed.

Catgirls watched her from the branches, as well as behind trees. Their tails slowly swished back and forth, the woods silent save for the occasional hiss. "Yeah yeah," Melissa said, gesturing dismissively. "You guys don't like me, I don't like you, just take me to my girlfriend,"

A catgirl dropped down in front of her from a branch, blocking her path. She held a club in one hand, her other pressed against the mossy earth. "The Queen is not your girlfriend, or your mate, or your lover," She straightened up, standing taller than Melissa by almost a foot. "She is our Sovereign, protector of Caldus-Bramble and-"

"Seriously?" Melissa said, exhaling and rolling her eyes. "Are we going to do this every time Keeba? She's not going to fuck you dude,"

"How DARE you!" The catgirl yelled, brandishing her club. "You will NEVER speak of the Queen like-"

Merry laughter drifted through the forest, the leaves swaying gently. The catgirl paused, her tail freezing midair. "Is that Melissa I hear?" A voice said, echoing warmly. "Please, lead her to me,"

The catgirl slowly turned her head back towards Melissa. The young woman smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Well? You heard her. Take me to my girlfriend,"

The catgirl leaned in towards Melissa, their noses almost touching. "The day the Queen gets tired of you, I will personally banish you from these lands in whatever manner I see fit," She hissed, getting on all fours and scampering away.

"Hey!" Melissa called. "What the hell! Your queen told you to lead me to her! This place is a fucking maze!"

Another catgirl dropped down, motioning with her tail for Melissa to follow. The young woman did so, stepping over roots and brushing aside branches. She emerged into a clearing covered in flowers. They were freshly picked, emitting a sickly-sweet aroma that filled Melissa's nostrils. In the center rested a giant woman on a bed of pillows. Her skin radiated light, her long hair flowing down around her like a river. Her eyes changed from two, to four, back to two again. On her head was a circular crown, rising up in layers and covered in jewels. Around her danced spirits who threw petals and played tiny instruments.

The giant woman lounged sideways, running her hands through the flowers. She plucked one up, bringing it to her nose and smelling deeply. She looked at Melissa over the tops of the petals, blinking coyly. "Hello beautiful,"

"Hey babe," Melissa said, walking into the clearing. She stopped, then brought up both arms. She toppled over, straight as a board, then broke into a series of cartwheels. She spun across the clearing, finishing with a triple flip into the air. She landed on her feet, sweeping her arm out in front of her. On the end of her fingers dangled a gold medallion set with a shining jewel. "For you, my Queen,"

The giant woman smiled, setting down the flower. She extended her hand, gently taking the medallion. "Oh Melissa," She said, bringing it up to her neck. "It's beautiful,"

"Yeahhh," Melissa said, brushing off her shoulder nonchalantly. "Me, Grace and Babi snagged it from a dungeon we raided. I'm pretty sure it's priced the same as a small kingdom,"

The giant woman put a hand to her mouth, laughing. The sound was like honey to Melissa's ears. "Really now," The woman said, raising an eyebrow in a teasing manner. "I don't think I believe that,"

Melissa smiled, but it slowly died. She cleared her throat, idly kicking up some of the flowers. "Soooo, Bri…"

"Melissa," The giant woman said, folding her hands together and smiling warmly.

Slowly approaching, Melissa paused to do a one-armed handstand, then let herself fall down neatly to her feet. She stared up into Bri's eyes. The giant woman stared back down, tilting her head as she continued to smile.

"I guess," Melissa said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I was just seeing, well, when you wanted to leave this place?"

Bri's smile slowly disappeared, replaced with a look of sadness. "Well, my beautiful, beautiful Melissa. I can't yet…" The giant woman glanced away. "It's not…safe, out there,"

"Right, right," Melissa said, looking down with her hands still in her pockets. "Because Melody and her Shadow are still out there,"

"Yes…" Bri said, closing her eyes. She opened them, turning back to Melissa with a smile. "But that's not to say you can't stay here with me! I would love it if you were here," She put her palms together. "Oh it would be perfect Melissa! You would love it too! These lands have everything!"

Melissa scratched the back of her neck. "Yeahhh, well, I would love to, really…but…."

"But," Bri said, waiting.

"Well, you know," Melissa said, shrugging. "I mean, Grace needs my help. She's uh, really set on being a hero and all,"

The giant woman bit her bottom lip, looking pensive. "Ah, yes, Grace. Of course. She does enjoy that spear of hers,"

"And I mean, you know," Melissa said, idly gesturing with one hand. She leaned in close, cupping one side of her mouth and lowering her voice. "I think that one girl-cat Keeba wants to get in your pants. Don't tell her I told you,"

Bri raised both eyebrows, then broke out in laughter. It echoed around the clearing, making Melissa feel a true happiness she hadn't felt in some time. The young woman smiled, but it faltered as the laughter faded.

The giant woman wiped a glowing tear from the corner of her eye, flicking it away. "Well, I'm sure many of the nimble ones adore me, but they don't really understand me like you do, do they?"

Melissa smirked, putting a hand to her hip. "No, they were never shaken awake by you like I was at the crack of dawn,"

Bri snorted, her eyes changing from four, back to two. "It was noon, you never woke up early in your life,"

The two laughed, but it slowly died. They both glanced away, an awkward silence descending. "Hey," Melissa said, glancing back up at Bri. "Want to see a new trick I learned?"

The giant woman put a finger to her chin. "Do I…?"

Melissa disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Bri let out a yelp of surprise, looking around the clearing. She heard a tiny voice next to her ear. "You must tell me when shampoo you use, I would kill for that sheen,"

Bri looked at her shoulder, spotting a tiny Melissa no bigger than a chipmunk. The giant woman made a noise of delight. "Melissa! How on earth did you get so small!"

Melissa did a small jig on her shoulder, throwing out both arms and ending with a pose. "Mischief and magic! Ta-da!"

Bri tilted her head back, her body rippling with laughter. Melissa grinned, then flipped off her shoulder. She disappeared in a small puff of purple smoke, reappearing in front of Bri at her normal size. "Okay," Bri said, scooping the young woman up in her arms. "That's it, I have missed you far too much. Let us go find a quiet glade away from prying eyes and catch up,"

Melissa glanced around the clearing. Hundreds of eyes peered from the darkness of the trees, randomly blinking. "I honestly don't know how you stand them," Melissa said, pressing her head against Bri's chest. "They're creepy,"

"Oh stop it," The giant woman said, getting up as she hugged Melissa close. "They're my people, and they love me dearly,"

"We're your people Bri," Melissa said, furrowing her brow. "And I love you. Please don't forget that,"

Bri smiled warmly, walking into the trees with Melissa. "Of course not. I would never forget you. And I know you will never forget me,"

Seven Years Ago​

An explosion tore through a house, splintering wood and filling a paved street with dust. Melody the Demon Lord climbed through the rubble at a rapid pace, her spider legs carrying her over the masonry. Her expression was furious, the scythe in her hand trembling.

"Where are you goingggggg Melodyyyyyy," A voice said, echoing from the destroyed house. "I'm not done with you yetttttttt,"

"You little!" Melody yelled, gripping her weapon. "I'll destroy you!" Laughter echoed up and down the street. The dust cloud expanded, causing Melody to cough and cover her mouth. The cloud swirled up, forming a tornado, then dissipated.

Standing on every roof, as well as peering out of alleyways and windows, were smiling Melissa's. A door opened, and one of them stepped out. Like the others, she wore a colorful patchwork tunic, colorful patchwork pants, and a jester's hat on her head. Melissa strolled into the street, her copies watching and letting out taunting laughter.

"Melody Melody sitting in a tree, why oh why won't you play with me?"

The demon lord scowled, bringing her scythe back and a lowering into a stance. "Daymn you, you little irksome monster! What did you do to my shadow!"

Melissa paused in the street, a perplexed expression on her face. "Shadow?" She turned away, facing the street and opening her arms wide. "Do you hear that girls? Melody lost her shadow!"

"Oh nooooooo," The copies echoed. "Where did it gooooo?"

Melissa turned back to the demon lord and shrugged. "Sorry, it seems your shadow is gone! What a shame, to lose such a thing…"

"I will kill you," Melody said, gritting her teeth. She screamed, charging Melissa. The young woman smiled, cartwheeling neatly out of the way as the demon lord swung her weapon. Melody spun around, throwing out her hand. Geometric shapes appeared in the air above all the houses, then fire and brimstone rained down.

The copies laughed and cried out as they were destroyed, the houses exploding with debris. Melody gripped her scythe, breathing heavily. The dust from the destruction spread through the street, obscuring her view. The noise of a music box started up, echoing through the smoke.

"Where are you!" Melody screamed, spinning around. "Where are you!"

The music stopped, the street gripped in silence. The dust slowly settled. "Why, I'm right here," A voice said directly behind the demon lord. She spun, then gasped. Melissa stood, leaning her face in close to hers. In her hand was a knife, the blade sticking into Melody's chest.

Melissa let go of the handle, and Melody staggered backwards. "n-no," The demon lord said, coughing up blood. She collapsed, gripping the blade. Melissa slowly approached, raising a foot and delicately placing it on the handle.

"Ohhhh Melody," The young woman said, the bells on her jester hat jingling. "Sweet sweet Melody," She drove her foot down, pushing the knife all the way in. Melody gasped, her mouth agape. A final breath escaped her lips, then she went limp.

Melissa slowly took her foot from the handle, then looked up and down the street. Whistling, she skipped along the pavement, disappearing in a flash of purple smoke.

Five Years Ago​

Dark clouds rumbled in the sky. A light rain began to fall, droplets dripping from the blades of grass. She-Joker looked up at the sky, letting the water run down her face. It smelled of spring, and the life that always came with it. The woman opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, tasting the rain.

A noise caused her to lower her head. Ahead of her, a forest stretched out in either direction as far as the eye could see. A woman stood in front of She-Joker, wearing an animal-skin tunic pinned around her shoulders. The woman had cat ears, as well as a tail. In her hand was a bow, and on her back, a quiver bristling with arrows.

"Oh!" She-Joker said, grinning. "Why hello! Aren't you a cute little kitty-cat!" The catgirl scowled, gripping her bow. She-Joker tilted her head, studying her. "Aww, what's the matter? Don't like being out in the rain?" She leaned in close, cupping a hand to her mouth and lowering her voice. "It's a little damp for my tastes as well," She giggled, straightening up. "But don't tell anyone!"

"What do you want," The catgirl said, her scowl remaining.

She-Joker put a finger to her chin, thinking. "Hmmm, why did I come here again…?" She snapped. "Oh yes! There's someone I want to see!"

"Our queen is busy," The catgirl said. "She has no time for you,"

"Time's a funny thing!" She-Joker said, hopping from one foot to the other. She paused, her left foot hovering in the air. "The more you have, the less you notice it's there! But have only a little, and it means the world!"

The catgirl spit. "You speak nonsense, I will not take you to the Sovereign,"

'The Sovereign!" A voice said behind the feline woman. She spun, finding She-Joker standing behind her. "Why, that's exactly who I want to see!" She clasped her hands together. "Oh please oh please take me to her!"

The catgirl's expression changed to one of contempt. "Your foolishness and games have no place here,"

"Hmmmm, okay!" She-Joker disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, reappearing by the treeline. The catgirl let out a cry of surprise, then hissed. She-Joker waved at her. "Race you!" She turned and sprinted into the woods.

Arrows rained down around her as the woman skipped through the trees. She laughed, dancing around deadly shafts. One of them embedded next to her in a tree, and she paused to inspect it. "Oooohhh," She said, flicking the fletching. She turned and called up to the trees. "If you put holes in these, they'll whistle for you!" She pursed her lips and whistled, then cartwheeled along as more arrows imbedded around her.

She continued her merry movements, skipping, dancing and grabbing hold of trees to swing around them. She-Joker let go of the trunk, falling off it to run up another. She backflipped away, gripping a branch and pulling herself up with ease. She found herself between two catgirls, who both hissed in surprise.

"Whoopsie!" The woman said, laughing and falling back to the ground.

She landed on her back, then arched it and flipped backwards as more arrows impacted in the dirt she had just occupied. Skipping at an incredible speed, She-Joker flew through the forest, throwing up leaves in her wake. She entered a narrow field, skidding to a halt. Rain fell down around her as she took in the clearing with her hands on her hips.

In the middle was a wide, flat stone. Atop it was Bri, Queen of Caldus-Bramble. She sat cross-legged, tiny spirits standing on one another to hold a massive leaf over her head like an umbrella. Water droplets slid off it, falling down around the giant woman like a wall of sparkling jewels.

Surrounding the circular stone were at least a hundred catgirls. They hissed, baring their weapons and their teeth. She-Joker tilted her head at them and waved. Several notched arrows, drawing their bowstrings back.

"Now now," Bri said, her voice warm but tired. "My little nimble ones, don't attack my guest,"

"Hello!" She-Joker said, waving excitedly. "My, aren't you a big, beautiful woman!"

Queen Bri slowly closed her eyes, then opened them with a saddened expression. "Hello Melissa,"

"Melissa?" She-Joker said, looking confused. She took a careful step forward, then another. She held out her hands as if walking a tight-rope. "Why, who's that?" Bending her knees, she flipped over the heads of the catgirls, landing on the stone in front of Bri. "I'm She-Joker, the most fun person in the land!"

"Are you now," Bri said, doing her best to smile.

She-Joker did a jig, the bells on her hat jingling. The catgirls turned and watched her, their eyes narrowed. One of them stepped forward, a club gripped in her hand. "My Queen! Do not let this one mock us! Allow me to chase her from your kingdom!"

The giant woman shook her head. "No Keeba, it has been too long since I have seen this one. Tell me…She-Joker, do you know how long it has been?"

The jester continued dancing, then paused, tilting her head. "Have I been here before?"

The corners of Bri's four eyes watered. "Yes. One year, seven days, three hours and nineteen minutes ago, to the very moment,"

"Oh!" She-Joker said, her eyes going wide. "That's time! Time is such a funny thing you know!"

"Isn't it…" Bri said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She sniffed, then smiled warmly. "Now, what brings you to me, surely you must know that,"

She-Joker frowned, tapping the side of her cheek with a finger. "Welll, that's a very good question! I don't rightly know! I think my good friend Gracey sent me!"

"Grace," Bri said, lifting her chin. "So you still remember her,"

"Why of course!" She-Joker said. "She tells me how to save people!" She leaned in, looking over her shoulder, then looked up at Bri with narrowed eyes. "Don't tell anyone, but I have to be told what to do a lot," She stuck out her tongue, knocking her head with a fist. "Blow in one of my ears and you'll hear a whistle come out the other!"

Bri closed her eyes, new tears forming. She covered her mouth and turned away. "I…see,"

She-Joker's eyes went wide as she stared at a golden medallion clasped around the giant woman's wrist. A jewel rested in the center. "ooooohhhh! That's such a pretty bracelet!"

Accepting a cloth from one of the catgirls, Bri dabbed at her eyes, then turned back to Melissa with a weak smile. "Do you like it? It was gift from someone very dear to me,"

"She must have been very special," She-Joker said, nodding wisely. "Why, it probably costs a fortune!"

"A small kingdom, I'm told," Bri said.

She-Joker stood up on her tip-toes, then lifted one leg and struck a pose. "Gifts are important, it's how we remember our friends! That's what Gracey says,"

The giant woman lifted her chin, her face struggling with emotion. She took a deep breath, then smiled as she slipped the necklace from her wrist. "I do believe you're right. It's certainly helped me remember the one who gave it. But…I think I'd like you to have it,"

She-Joker's eyes went wide. "Me?" She clapped excitedly. "How fun!"

"Yes," Bri said, extending it towards her. "But you must promise me something,"

The jester woman leaned in, inspecting the medallion as Bri held it out towards her. "Anything!"

"You must remember the one who gave it to you, just like Grace said,"

Nodding, She-Joker looked up at the giant woman and beamed. "Oh I'll never forget you! A gift like this, how could I??"

Bri gently placed it into her palm, a sad smile on her face. Tears slowly fell down her face, mixing with the rain sliding off the leaf above her. "And I will never forget you Melissa,"

Even if you've forgotten me.

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