Gravel crunched under Kallio's feet as he slowly walked down the road from the outskirts of Verren towards the city. The moon steadily drifted towards the horizon, yet no faint glow warmed the sky in counterpoint opposite to it. The pre-dawn air was chill, but fresh, and full of the smell of growing things and the salt of the sea.

The Warlock paused for a moment as he looked out over the ocean some miles distant and observed the waves. The Guild Master's proposal had been laughable, merely an attempt to stall for time by his best reckoning. Kallio had provided a succinct counter-proposal to the elven Shadow Dancer known as Saerith. She had even possessed the good form to properly consider it, taking the time to debate each point with him as the night grew long.

The elf had eventually accepted, only to depart with a hateful unblinking stare that lingered long after the rest of her had faded into the darkness. Kallio had rather enjoyed the aesthetic of it, as he acknowledged that one must uphold the image of their station wherever possible. He nodded to himself as he resumed his slow walk towards the city, confident in his choice in Saerith. For someone with such an aggressive brand of magic, she was exceptionally soft hearted.

“They come…”

Kallio looked away from the ocean to return his gaze to the path before him at the sound of the demon’s voice. The road before him wove for miles through the rolling hills outside Verren, flanked on either side by tall grass and the occasional copse of broad-leaved trees. It took him a moment to locate the source of the disturbance before his eyes settled on the singular figure walking up the road towards him. They were dressed in elaborately decorated white robes, hood pulled up over their head, and carried a torch in their hand as they strode purposefully towards him.

“Interesting. Virax, be on alert.”, Kallio remarked to the demon that lurked invisibly nearby.

He continued towards the figure as the distance between them steadily shrunk until he finally planted the dark staff he carried and waited. The figure continued to approach, stopping a respectful distance away and reaching up to remove their hood. Kallio regarded them evenly as they were revealed to be a man of middling age, hair and beard as perfectly white as the robes they wore. Twin strips of decorated cloth hung from the mantle about their shoulders, odd sigils and heraldry stitched with a meticulous hand.

The man had similarly planted himself in the exact middle of the road as they faced each other. Kallio could plainly see felflame ignited and sustained by Zeptik's efforts burning in the distance behind the man, ringing the city atop the towers that had been chosen to form the perimeter of the ritual. The Imp remained within the city even now, ensuring that none tampered with the temporary runic formations as they slowly built up charge. A flick of his will pinpointed the demon within the left section of the ritual circle, currently destroying a small group attempting to simply knock down the tower from a distance. Green lightning struck down from the tower as Zeptik utilized the excess heat from the flame itself in a rather creative way.

Kallio retracted his senses almost as quickly as he had extended them, retaining only a brief sense of dutiful service from Zeptik that he was certain was entirely for his benefit when the man finally spoke, “This was entirely unnecessary, it was within your power to simply request your possessions from the Grand Master. There is precedent for such things, and due protocol. The murder of almost an entire Guild branch is unacceptable.”

"I am inclined to disagree. Enough measures were left within my vault to discourage all but the very greediest of thieves. There is a pile of bones that nearly obscures the entrance to the cavern it rested within that I, myself, did not contribute to.”, Kallio replies bitingly, "There were warnings of retribution and vengeance aplenty within the vault itself. I believe the exact phraseology I used was, ‘Woe unto the whole of your people, such that the Observers shall turn away in horror.’ I don't think I could have been more clear.”

“You and every other petty tyrant in the whole of the history of the world. Very rarely so the dead rise to reclaim their holdings, and most are far more reasonable than I find you.”, the man in white replies without a trace of fear in his expression as his eyes grew hard at Kallio’s words.

"Yes, I had noticed that this era is dominated by weaklings and those that lack resolve. An unfortunate side effect of inheriting a tamed world, I expect. Regardless, by entering my vault and stealing from me, by disregarding my warnings as empty threats you have brought this upon yourselves.”

"Kallio of T’va, Warlock, who has stood on the Mountaintop, Sixth Jewel of the Old Kingdoms. You are known to us, and to the true Masters of this era, as you call it.”, the man began to list Kallio’s titles much to the Warlock’s surprise, “It is true we who now live owe you much, as we do all the heroes whose names have been lost to the ages… Enough I'd say to return a fucking artifact that would have been easy enough to prove was yours, which was rotting away in a vault because it devoured the souls of anyone that touched the thing!”

Kallio blinked in surprise at the sudden vitriol and slip of etiquette from the man who suddenly cast the torch aside, the brand rising several feet in the air to hover in place.

“You never even considered asking for it back did you?”

"Kallio of T’va, Warlock, who stood atop the Mountain, Keeper of Fel Flame, Devourer’s Bane, Lord of Tower, Scrollkeeper of T’va.”

"...what?”, the man clenched his fists in anger at Kallio's apparent disregard for his outburst.

"My titles, for your records. I achieved many things, but I was never considered one of the Jewels. The Sixth Jewel was my very good friend Thius, of Lodae, which he carved from the wilds with his flame alone. I'll not claim his accolades.”

The man's face went blank for a moment as he processed Kallio’s words before beginning to redden in anger as he visibly calmed himself by controlling his breathing. He unclenched his fists and raised his face to the sky, mumbling something Kallio deemed likely to be a prayer or mantra of some kind before returning the Warlock's gaze.

“Loyalty to the dead is to be respected, even from one such as you. I will relay the information.", the man spat through gritted teeth, “Now fuck off. I'll bring you the damn weapon myself if I have to, just stop killing people.”

Kallio considered carefully for a moment while he willed Virax into stillness as the Riftwalker became agitated at the man's aggressive demeanor, "What is your name, messenger? You speak quite boldly if you know to whom you speak.”

“Messenger? No.", the man almost snarled as he stared back at Kallio with growing contempt in his expression, “I am Master White, of the High Council. I specifically requested to be the one sent here to beat your shit in if you wouldn't back off once we confirmed the reports. Dvallin sends his regards, by the way."

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Kallio nearly allowed Virax to descend on the man in response to his shock. He reigned the demon in at the last moment and recalled them to his side cautiously. The Warlock’s surprise and disbelief triggered both Zeptik and Mirriana to query him through their soul link. Mirriana, having mostly fulfilled her task, began moving rapidly in his direction despite the distance. Kallio estimated she’d arrive in time to assist if the situation turned ugly as he was now sure it would, with Dvallin's cursed name invoked.

“I am saddened to hear the beardless coward who hid from the end of the world somehow managed to survive far longer than he deserved.", Kallio replied icily, “If you count Dvallin among your allies I am surely your enemy. I'll not treat with the allies of traitors and cowards."

"Yeah, he said you'd probably say something like that. Glad you're still as predictable as they said you'd be. My sister lived in Tellura City, you murdering coward.”

Kallio simply spun the Darkstaff into a high ready stance, runes activating under his hands and slowly spreading to cover the entire weapon as Virax leapt inside the weapon sensing his Master's intent. Master White smiled viciously and snapped his hands out to either side, tattoos along his hands and wrists suddenly flaring with pale light, small arrays surrounding his forearms as the sleeves of the robes exploded away.

Twin blades of crackling white light like bars of lighting materialized in the man's hands before the spell concealing his aura shattered under the strain and a tidal wave of furious mana slammed into Kallio's senses. Hard earned reflexes allowed him to reinforce his own body with mana just as the man vanished in an explosion of gravel that tore several large holes into the ground. He accelerated towards the Warlock without any further delay, clearly intent on killing him.

The first strike slithered up from below, as the man killed his momentum in an explosion of earth and threw his weight into an upwards stab from a low stance before he blurred briefly into focus. Kallio swept the tip of the staff downwards and intercepted the blow as Virax warped the space between the two weapons. Master White countered by simply absorbing the weapon back into body and firing a blast of white light directly at Kallio’s head. Virax reacted in time, and the beam bent like a blade of grass to pass above the Warlock's head and sail into the distance.

Master White immediately disengaged, vanishing in a strobe of light that obscured his escape. Kallio threw himself to the side, spinning as he anticipated the next attack, releasing the staff with his left hand to trace a pattern into the air glowed with a sickly green light. The rune solidified as he continued the spin, barely intercepting the twin slashes that had been aimed at his hands with a preemptive defensive sweep of the staff that he held couched in his right arm.

The kick caught him squarely in the gut as he realized the feint for what it was a split second after he had committed to the maneuver, and Kallio was blasted backwards into a nearby hill so quickly the sounds of the impacts overlapped. The Warlock was momentarily stunned by the force of the impact before exploding out of the crater left by his body in a pillar of ravening emerald flame that flowed like water down the hill to pool at the bottom of the slope.

Thousands of flechettes of brilliant energy descended on him immediately from directly above as he willed the fire to intercept, flames leaping into the air to form a shield that devoured the incoming attack with a sound like screaming birds. Kallio's eyes darted about as he focused his senses outward, pushing his own aura against the savage anger of the man bombarding him with spell after spell. Three more volleys of flechettes came in from separate angles, forcing him to divide the shields' effects to safely intercept them all, intentionally leaving a small opening behind him to the left.

Master White took the bait, exploding through the dome of fire with a double stab aimed straight for the Warlock's back. His eyes widened as Kallio triggered the rune that had attached itself to the back of his breastplate shortly after activation, the blades in his hands rapidly losing coherence and forming a thin barrier. The improvised shield shattered under the needle-like lance of green energy but held long enough to save the man's life as he threw himself under the attack and reformed the blades in his hands. The deflected beam continued onwards and bisected the nearby hill, molten dirt and fire blasting high into the air as the spell impacted.

Kallio threw himself forward and spun bodily in the air, weaving two rapid thrusts from the staff into a blast of fire from his palm as Master White parried expertly, every movement bringing him slightly closer to his target. He extended two fingers from his right hand over the grip of his weapon and flattened the blast of fire with a rapid counterspell, flame losing potency and evaporating as the spellfame unraveled. Kallio stepped into the dissipating attack and slashed his boney hand directly at the man's throat over his extended hand, fingers shining with sickly red light.

Master White attempted to weave under the blow once again only to be caught by a ghostly red copy of Kallio's hand that snapped forward and nearly tore his throat out, forcing him to give ground as Kallio fed mana into the weapon he'd retrieved during his preparations. The orb awakened with an almost sentient bloodlust that filled the air between them with pure malevolence as dark red energy crackled up and down Kallio’s left arm. The orb slowly gathered in his palm as Master White flickered and reappeared a dozen feet away, blade held at the ready as hundreds of small white spellframes appeared in the air around him, moving like a flock of birds before combining into a larger array.

Kallio gently tossed the orb into the air as the array triggered and inverted itself, dozens of streamers of light arcing away at random angles only to repeat the process several times before diving directly for him only to be diverted and drained away into the orb as it swelled in size slightly.

“You'll run out of tricks eventually. I'm not going to run out of mana.”

"Yes I am aware you are poorly utilizing a Seed.”, Kallio replied dryly over the crackling of the flame slowly devouring the surrounding terrain as the liquid fire began to flow uphill around the pair and pool at the Warlocks' feet.

“Poorly? No, I'm just feeling you out. I didn't know you'd abuse your own Seed quite so heavily, but I suspected. I'm gonna snatch that right off your head and beat you to death with it, then I'm gonna clean up the mess you made here.”

Kallio cocked his head curiously at the man before he planted his staff and indulged in a high amused laugh while Master White watched on with slight unease as the emerald flame continued to spread and devour the surrounding countryside, pooling as it ate everything away. He smiled as best he could at the man who began to conjure layers of crackling white armor around his robes in response.

“The seed? No, child. Dvallin doesn't always tell the whole truth. It is the flame. All is rendered to mana and returned to me, you see?", Kallio gestured to the pool of fire lapping about his feet, “It sustains and spreads itself unless suppressed or destroyed, this is the horror of Fel Flame."

“Shouldn't have told me that, idiot."

The color of the world inverted briefly as Master White dismissed his conjured armor and recycled the energy into a massive counterspell that rolled over the countryside like a shockwave. Everywhere it touched the flame was blown away to dissolve into swirling fractals of itself as Kallio watched impassively.

"I told you, you're not the only one with a Seed. You're not special just because you're older than the art of using them. We've significantly improved the art in the last thousand years, fool. Did you think the worlds stood still while you were dead?”, the man tore open the neck of his robes and pointed to the thick choker that held a matching gem to Kallio’s own. It pulsed with white light in time with the man's own rapid heartbeat as he absorbed more and more mana from the other.

Kallio nodded slightly before willing the orb to split into three smaller copies that floated above him and began to orbit his head lazily above the circlet.

“Oh? What gave you the impression I was even utilizing the seed? You have eyes do you not?"

Master White's face contorted in shock as the gem in Kallio's circlet began to glow, brighter and brighter as the Warlock slowly raised his hand.

“Let us compare the old arts with the new, shall we?”