He knew that his own Others would become Fomoria’s, so he killed Dun’Kel and Kleon, then segmented the mind of the temporary Other so that he wouldn’t realize what Xol’s real plan was.
Much like Marigold, yet also entirely unlike her, Xol needed to be very careful with his Others, lest they turn against him.
Fomoria, being as suicidally willing to exchange his body, his soul, his mind, for doing what was right, had no such issues making an army of Others, for they would never turn against him.
Moments after his death, Xol awoke in a body thousands of miles away.
In his lessons to the boy, he taught him to hide things.
The Darkness herself had only vague ideas about where Fomoira had hidden his extra bodies.
Or at least, that was the plan.
Fomoria’s plan to hide his body was perfect, making dozens of jumps through void gates into areas which already had wards and arrays set up to hide his coming and going.
From there, he needed to have a variety of decoys, one of which was the actual body.
And it worked, she genuinely had only the areas where they might be, but no real information on exact location.
Then, the swap happened.
In the instants where the paradox was taking place, she saw a surge of energy, and checking it against what she already knew told her where he hid them.
Naturally, she told her parent, who told Marigold.
Yet in the few moments before she could arrive, Xol returned to his home.
Xol’s manner of keeping control over his work despite swapping his soul was rather simple, he gave Fomoria permissions on all of it.
Fomoria however, had no idea about this, and never tried to enter Xol and Marigold’s home, only ever having them bring him there.
The instant he was back in that place, he blocked Marigold from teleporting in, then was in a constant battle for hours against both her and Aarde.
He was the one that told them how to find Fae who hid from their sights, but a lot had changed in the 1500 years, and his hiding had a deeper level of sophistication to it.
He shed no tears, he had no hesitation as he stepped down the stairs to the basement, down to that room.
She looked up, her beauty still maintained despite her confinement in chains.
“Xol, you’ve changed. Perhaps a new haircut?”
“Now I can tell you what you saw before. I’ve stolen Fomoria’s soul, and in doing so, I have become like one born of Aarde. What you saw before was divinity. I’ve been entirely unable to steal it from a Fomorian until now.”
Nemain was displeased and showed it clearly.
“Why him? Why the boy?”
“The Darkness never made him a champion in the proper sense, she merely unlocked certain abilities that his spark already granted. I retained certain traits of my soul, the most important being my mana that rivels gods. Had I tried with a soul that was still limited, I would be dead in an instant, a bloody stain on the ground where I burst. His body was strong enough to hold me during the moments of change, and after the transition was finished his soul could hold my mana.
Now, I can tell you aren’t happy with this, but you are going to work for me anyway.”
“My, how could you come to that conclusion?”
“Because I’m going to cripple Aarde so they can’t be a threat to you ever again.”
“Aarde was never a threat to me. You are the one responsible for catching me, for stealing away the rest of our kind.”
“No point in assigning blame now. If I put you back together, will you join me?”
“Is he still alive?”
“Yes.”
“You lost your immortality, didn’t you?”
“Everything has a price. Come with me, let us kill Aarde-”
Nemain couldn’t help but laugh for minutes on end.
“You cannot kill Aarde. This entire world would die. But, you are very grateful to have me, because I can solve that.”
“If I took the place of Aarde-”
She laughed again.
“You? You think you could replace them? They are the core of an entire world. Their lesser gods surpassed even our mightiest warriors. You would be snuffed out in an instant, every part of your being devoured to grant life to this world for the few fleeting moments before it all collapsed.”
“Then oh great and wise Nemain, what would you have me do?”
“We cripple Aarde, cripple their gods. If we can limit them to only acting through their champions, you would have very few enemies to fight, each weaker than the last if they tried over and over to kill you, otherwise centuries to cultivate their new branches.”
“And you can do this?”
“I know where the Headband of Sun Wukong is.”
Xol thought for a moment before he realized her plan.
“First, we must kill Wyrmwood. He is still on Aarde, and hasn’t moved from our battleground.”
“You still have Gram and Ascalon, do you not?”
“It cost me my head, but I retained them.”
Nemain smiled and nodded, enough of a reaction that Xol considered it right to set her free.
Xol and Nemain arrived back where the land was afire, the Witch casting a prepared spell to make sure that nobody would see the coming fight.
He held Ascalon in his hands, since Nemain had refused to touch the blade.
Gram was held by a warrior of great size and strength, blue skin, backwards legs, and seven fingers.
“Is that Cú Chulainn?”
“A body is not a man. Give him your shield and he shall act as vanguard for this.”
Xol tossed the Aegis to the blue giant and while it was too small for him, Nemain grew both it and Gram to fit her warrior.
Wyrmwood had not been blind to their sudden appearance, and moved to crush them under his palm.
Yet the giant held his ground with Nemain’s help in making sure that said ground wouldn’t be reduced to dust by the force of the blow.
Xol leapt up, and one of Wyrmwood’s fingers fell down.
Though obviously the blade sized for a normal human couldn’t cleave fully such a beast, the blessing held by Ascalon turned the shallow cut into a full severing.
Wyrmwood hardly reacted, simply pulling his hand back and slamming down again.
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Xol did not take the bait, and for good reason.
Wyrmwood breathed on his hand, and had he gone for another swing, Xol would’ve downed in flame.
But rather, they were now forced to only the area under Nemain’s warrior where the Aegis blocked the breath that held like a shield around them.
From the side, Wyrmwood moved his hand flat against the ground the pierce the giant, but he moved his legs down like springs and then pushed against the palm.
Rather than forcing them to choose between the veil of fire and the coming claws, the giant caused Wyrmwood to strike himself and stagger back.
He rushed forward and struck at the hand, cutting it at the wrist.
Someone like Marigold could’ve used blood magic to turn the wound into a cannon of sorts to prevent another attack, but Wyrmwood, Titans as a whole, were blunt instruments.
The Last Dragon used his remaining hand to anchor himself as he flapped his wings to make a hurricane that would blow away his enemies.
He knew that Nemain had hidden them from Aarde’s sight, but had attacked anyway because of foolish pride.
Yet the giant kept running forward, the Aegis making it as though there was nothing blocking them at all.
Wyrmwood began to charge another Sol Sunder, knowing that the Aegis had limits which had nearly been reached last he used it.
He hoped that he had recovered faster than the artifact.
As he hoped, Wyrmwood maintained his Sol Sunder long enough that the Aegis was broken, and the giant charred until death.
Yet the giant had saved his wards, and from the blackened remains stepped Xol.
Wyrmwood still thought that he would win, that by the time it took for the Lich to reach him, he would’ve recovered enough.
Yet Xol did not need to reach Wyrmwood, or rather, Nemain did not.
She was not a warrior, she did not fight in wars, yet she was still someone of martial talent.
Nemain drew back the string on the Bow of Helios, and loosed the first of the arrows which struck true.
Wyrmwood had more than one heart, his body was simply too massive to not.
A geyser of blood flowed from the wound, and the light of Aarde tried to seal the wound, yet Xol had already soaked each arrow in Hydra poison, and slowed the healing.
The bow itself wasn’t the best tool for Dragon slaying, it’s magic wasn’t meant just for that singular purpose, and most Earth magic worked that those with fewer uses were stronger, but still it was the perfect weapon for shooting from a distance.
Two, three, four.
Nemain pierced each heart, weakening the Dragon.
Now was the time to rush forward.
Nemain stood back, continuing to fire arrows while he ran towards Wyrmwood.
Either Xol won, and they would slay the beast, or he would be reduced to ash, and she would leave.
Whatever fire the beast could make wasn’t enough, and the Lich reached the dragon.
Wyrmwood tried in desperation to bite the Lich, not having time for another breath of fire.
It was only then that Xol revealed the last trick up his sleeve, aura techniques.
He imbibed the six elements and slashed, the sudden increase in speed and power threw Wyrmwood off balance.
With a downward slash, Xol cut Wyrmwood from snout to tail, but that was not the end.
The Titan may die, but it would not do so alone if he had anything to say about it.
The area began to darken as the soul of Wyrmwood prepared for a detonation.
Xol couldn’t get outside of the blast radius, but Nemain thought for some time, and decided to save him.
The pair escaped by the hair of the chins, Nemain bringing him to Kor.
He collapsed on the ground, so many lives around him were deafening, though it only took a few minutes to tune them out.
“It is times like this that I respect Fomoria’s will to listen. Next we need to-”
But before he could move from the alley, she grabbed his shoulder.
“A deal is a deal, but we have terms quite unclear, my dear.”
He hated it when Fae began to rhyme.
It was something involving the bargaining magic that bound them, but some just did it for fun.
“I will cripple Aarde so they cannot fight against my making a perfect world free from strife.
I don’t know exactly what help you can offer, but I realize I vastly overestimated myself compared to Wyrmwood, and I doubt I would’ve won without you.”
“Support, without rapport-”
“That doesn’t rhyme. Rapport has a silent T.”
“It does if you only look at the written word. I shall help as much as I have decided, neither shall be bound, nor should a deal unwound cause us to be derided.”
“That’s not a deal, that’s just working towards an end together until one of us stops.”
“A deal is a deal, is how I feel.”
“Fine. I accept this deal.”
She didn’t even shake his outstretched hand.
“What is your problem with me?”
“The boy. He was destined for much more. When what comes comes, I only hope for his return, lest we fall.”
“I have his abilities combined with 70,000 years of-”
“Madness. No mind is meant for living long.”
“And how old are you?”
“Waves and stone. What is your desire upon this place?”
“An army of course.”
Xol used a gate to enter the lab and the Others stopped their work.
“I’VE GONE TOO FAR, AARDE WANTS ME DEAD AND MARIGOLD COULD BE HERE ANY SECOND.”
They rushed towards the various armories around the lab, quickly spreading the word until all of them knew and that they were under threat.
Wards and arrays across the city flashed to life for the very first time, and an order was given that everyone return to their homes and visitors go to the hotels, which had bunkers under them; Yara waited in the bedroom for Fomoria or an Other to take her to safety, yet neither would come.
When everything was perhaps half finished, Marigold arrived in the lab.
Had she known Xol’s exact location, she could’ve attacked him on the spot, but instead she was in another room.
Xol felt the shift instantly, the Others stared at him unlike before.
Those that needed to draw their weapons did, then they rushed at him, but Xol began to flee the instant he felt spatial arrays hum to life.
It was a wonder to move his body like this, to engage in martial combat for the first time in a long while.
But he didn’t expect that the Others were going to push him back so much.
They fought not as a hundred, but as one.
Each lacked a blindspot because they could just make more eyes, and whatever gaps there were between attacks were quickly filled by another sword or spear that missed their brothers by a hair’s width.
If he wasn’t faster than them, if they got around his back, the fight would’ve ended before it began.
So, when he reached the end of the labs, he went up, hoping the ceiling wasn’t going to be as reinforced as the walls.
It was wrong, but he broke through regardless.
Slowed by the ceiling, they caught up, and quickly understood that they could not allow Xol to enter the house above.
They all began a psychic attack against Xol, slowing him further.
More and more of their attacks made it through his defenses, but Xol countered in the way he knew best.
The earth mana split from wind, and a hurricane flayed those closest to the attack, then the ground closed up behind him and hardened greatly.
It delayed the Others by just a few moments, and that was all that it took to get inside of the house and heal himself.
When the Others came through the floor, Xol stood there.
“Why have you attacked me?”
“We thought for a moment, together.”
It wasn’t like he was afraid, but there was a bone chilling effect when the Others linked minds and spoke all at once with a variety of tones, but the same words.
“Why would Marigold attack us? Fomoria would never do something so stupid without being able to hide it. Unless, it was you doing it. Xol.”
“I feel that there has been some leap of logic. I thought that I had more trust between Fomoria and I.”
“When there are two possibilities, one being that you stole Fomoria’s body and soul, and the other being that Marigold wouldn’t even try to talk Fomoria out of doing something stupid, we went with the one that made the most sense. She should be here soon to handle you, and I only hope the city survives.”
Nemain suddenly appeared.
“I don’t think so.”
It was rather simple, from the outside, through all senses, the world inside of her influence simply kept moving on how it was before.
No matter the spells or their wider effects like shifting winds or rumbling earth, unless they passed the border of her control, everything would seem fine.
The Others had already tried to contact Marigold, and they thought that they had.
“You must handle them here.”
“Of course.”
Xol tried to exert his influence over the Others, but despite eons of living, his will was unable to overcome theirs, and all he did was send them into a fury.
He could hardly believe that they could give him such a fight, but all of the Others in Kor were dead, or so he thought.
When he opened the door to Fomoria’s room, rather than Yara, he found a hastily made bomb.
First was gravity, trying to pull him into it, then was fire.
Xol dispelled the gravity part, which was part of the trap.
Suddenly he found himself engulfed in much higher fire than he could’ve possibly expected, and even his Godtouched skin blistered.
Had the Other stayed, worked on it until the instant Xol opened the door, maybe it could’ve done more.
But the Others goal was mostly to protect the city and to get those important to them to safety.
Many more bombs had been made in the rooms of others, Mercedes, Joan, etc.
Nemain laughed at his foolishness.
“You were never going to win against them.”
“The corpses that line these halls say otherwise.”
“But they got away with their targets, they’ve locked down the area, and though the city suffered some damage, most of the citizens are still alive in their bunkers.”
“Then this shall be our base for a time. Without Wyrmwood, they lost their brute. From long range I think I can handle whatever Marigold can toss at me. And at close range even death won’t stop me. My divinity will turn every body Godtouched. We’ve quickly reached the point where they can’t stop me so long as I have at least one spare body somewhere in the world, which I hope you can help in hiding.”
“Until our goals diverge.”