An impatient claw clicks against the gnarled armrest of an ornate wooden chair, illuminated by the emerald ambiance of blossom-adorned vines and tendrils that line the parlor, offering an organic and fragrant atmosphere. Despite his viridescent surroundings, Tomi's sharp, canid eyes remain fixed on his host, Lady Pisthelle, a middle-aged Verdatian woman of regal bearing. She stands before him, draped in a royal shawl, embroidered with the emblem of Lamina Town, pinned proudly to her shoulder.

Tomi's voice, deep and resonant, breaks the silence hanging in the air like a heavy tapestry. "Is something amiss, my lady?"

Utterly lost in listless thought, her company’s remark releases her from her stupor. She takes a seat and offers a concerned reply to the enigmatic visitor. "Neia, neia, Amati. Just making sure everything is as it should be. I simply want relations with Alterra to be as strong as possible before we start making our moves."

Tomi, with a polite nod, inquires further, "Then surely everything in the documentation is as it should be, no?"

"Yes, Amati. All is fine. And Gorumand, he is ready to purchase?"

"Ye– Yes, my lady…"

Concern creeps into Lady Pisthelle's voice as she presses further, "Amati…?"

Pink petals, like gentle raindrops, fall from Lady Pisthelle's leafy brow, landing delicately upon the wooden desk between them. Tomi's tails, sprouting from his lower back, twitch in response to her unease. He offers her a reassuring smile and looks deep into the ivied absence that grants the sovereign her vision.

"I assure you, my lady. The Blackout is in safe hands. Gourmand will accept the transaction, and you and I will be one step closer to realizing our dream," Tomi soothes.

Lady Pisthelle sighs and pushes the document toward Tomi, rising from her chair to gaze out of the window at a group of Verdatian children playing in the lush garden.

Tomi follows suit, rolling up the document and securing it with a small green ribbon before placing it in his bag. He walks up behind Lady Pisthelle and gingerly rests a hand on her knobbly shoulder.

"You worry far too much, Laela…" Tomi murmurs, his voice humming with empathy.

Lady Pisthelle covers Tomi's hand with her own leafy palm. "Not everyone has your carefree spirit, Amati. The burden I bear to protect my people weighs heavy in my breast each and every day."

"The burden we bear, you mean. We're in this together, Laela. Or need I remind you again?" he teases, tails bristling at her remark.

Lady Pisthelle turns to face Tomi, a leafy smile gracing her features. "You're right. I can't even begin to imagine how turning against someone like your mother must encumber your soul."

Tomi's smirk evolves into a wide, fang-filled grin. "It's all about perspective, love. I have faith enough in your prophecy to put my life on the line as necessary. As long as we do as instructed, all should be well, right?"

Lady Pisthelle chuckles at Tomi's words. "Absolutely, my well-spoken friend."

"Fantastic. Now there is simply the matter of payment…"

Lady Pisthelle reaches into her pocket and retrieves a modest pouch filled with jingling coins. She hands it to Tomi with a playful grin. "Of course, Amati. Always the Skaia scrounger."

Tomi accepts the pouch with a flourish, offering an exaggerated bow that elicits a genuine laugh from the foliated monarch.

"Cheers, Milady!"

Laela leans in, her voice filled with sarcastic admonishment. "I must wonder wherever you found the gall to speak to me so informally, Amati. I am still Lord and Lady of the Verdancy."

"I imagine I must’ve picked it up after spending the past four years exploring her majesty’s greenery." He punctuates his remark with a sly wink, prompting a subtle shift in the variegation on Laela’s face.

"Yes–well… Guards! Come take this haul to Amati’s carriage!" Laela commands.

Two robust Oaken guards swiftly appear, carrying away several black boxes from the parlor.

As the guards exit the estate, Laela turns her attention back to Tomi. "Will that be all from you today, Sir?"

"Actually, Laela, I require one more thing from you."

"And what might that be?"

"I need your signature on a blank so I can forge a diplomatic visa from Alterra to Dendra," Tomi admits.

"You can’t jump?" Laela asks with a raised brow.

"Not after I take The Blackout to Alterra. I’ll have expended my tails, and I need to get there by week’s end."

"I see…" Laela muses. She returns to her desk, retrieves a blank sheet of paper from a drawer, and signs it at the bottom. The seal of Mestria Estate is stamped onto the paper.

"What’s in Dendra that’s so important anyway?" she inquires.

"I have to pay a visit to an old friend. But my real goal lies in Lesourdo East." he responds with a cryptic tone.

Laela, puzzled, questions further, "Lesourdo East? That area is uninhabited, no?"

Tomi's grin widens as he shares his intentions. "Not for much longer, my dear."

As Laela hands him the signed charter, she playfully suggests, "You know I could just have a visa made for you, Tomi?"

Tomi chuckles, offering a mirthful response. "Yes, but where’s the fun in that?"

Laela joins in the laughter. "Never change, Amati."

"Never, never, always, and forever," Tomi replies with a warm smile. He gives her a quick hug before bounding towards the estate's exit.

"Safe travels, my friend!" Laela calls after him, waving a boughy goodbye to the Kytsune.

Several days after Tomi’s departure from Verdatia, he steps into the garden of the Marble Castle, just a few yards behind Delphius. The latter sits cross-legged, deep in pensive meditation.

"You again," Delphius remarks without turning to face Tomi.

"Yes, me again, Delphius. I’m doing fine, thank you for asking," Tomi responds.

"You must be seeking a swift death, coming back here."

"Relax, unblooded. I’m not here to fight you, especially not after your victory at the Tournament of Champions. Congratulations are most certainly in order."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Unnerved by Tomi’s comment, Delphius finally stands to face him. "Where did you hear that name, Tomi? You weren’t even at the tournament. How did you hear of my triumph?"

Tomi points toward his canid ears, which seem to twitch at random. "It’s these ears of mine. With them, I can detect prey items from well over one hundred feet away."

Delphius, angered, demands, "Enough of your games, Tomi! Speak now, or face damnation."

"My my, Delphius. Do you treat all of your friends with such contempt? It truly brings a tear to mine eye."

Delphius takes a swing at Tomi, but as his fist connects, Tomi’s body dissipates.

"Always so quick to violence, you are Delphius," Tomi says, now perched atop a large statue depicting a female warrior armed with a spear. "You know if you kill me, you won't learn anything, right? I figured Maelaezel would’ve taught you some tact by now."

Delphius, simmering his anger, retorts with malice. "Don’t you dare utter her name again, Kytsune…"

"Fear not, my gilded companion, I won’t. As a matter of fact, I’m quite sure no one will after today’s events," Tomi forecasts.

Delphius drops his guard, unsure of what to make of Tomi’s comment.

"I see I’ve finally found your ear," Tomi observes.

"Explain yourself, fiend."

"Think for a moment, Delphius. Just how many cycles has it been since your Mistress’s arrival?"

Delphius pauses, recounting the past five decades before looking back at Tomi, dread washing over his face. "H– How did you know about–"

"I wouldn’t bother counting now. All that you need to know is, your taking of the Marble Throne will become the catalyst for war. Or so says the prophecy," Tomi reveals.

"Prophecy?" Delphius questions.

Tomi balances atop the tip of the statue's spear, conducting a series of exaggerated gestures as he elucidates, "And as the light of rapture fills the night sky, those with eyes as red as Prominence rush toward its luster, seeking to devour everything it touches…"

Delphius stands before Tomi, motionless, trying to decipher the meaning behind his ominous message.

"And with that, I shall take my leave," Tomi concludes before departing.

With a deep bow, Tomi descends from the statue without a sound.

"You won’t be going anywhere, Tomi. I’ve had just about enough of you invading my peace. We’re ending this now," Delphius declares.

"As much as I’d love to stay, I believe your hands will soon be quite full, what with tending to your Mistress and all," Tomi yawns.

Delphius’s fists clench in anger. "What have you done to her, you bastard canine!?"

Tomi, unfazed, gives Delphius a nonchalant shrug. "See for yourself."

As if on cue, a scream tears through the tranquil garden, followed by a sudden surge of mana, emanating from the courtyard at the front of the castle. Delphius instinctively turns toward the source of the scream but whips his gaze back in search of Tomi who has once again vanished.

Electing to let his elusive quarry escape, Delphius rushes out to the courtyard. There, he finds Maelaezel on her knees, before a massive white portal torn into Sahylia’s shattered chest. Exhausted, she struggles to prop herself up with her swordspear, whose blade has become a tempest, wracked by a surge manetic energies.

Kneeling beside her, Delphius places a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with trepidation as he assesses the unfolding situation.

"Maelaezel! Are you alright? What’s going on?" he implores.

"Delphius, my Champion. It is time for your ascension." she replies, trying to find her breath.

"My ascension? What are you talking about Mae–"

"The dreaded Red Wyrm has completed fifty cycles since my rebirth. Ready or not, Delphius, my time on this ball of dirt and grime has come to a long-awaited conclusion," Maelaezel says, imbuing her words with a solemn finality.

"Surely you’re invoking some cruel jest at my expense. It cannot be that you have nothing left to impart upon me," Delphius pleads.

"As empty as that skull of yours is, Delphius, I’m afraid the time for lessons is over. The soul of the Aether must be passed on, and it will be your responsibility to spread its teachings to every corner of this light-forsaken planet."

"I– I am unworthy of such authority, my lady," Delphius admits, bowing his head in shame and repentance.

"Indeed. Though, wretched as you are–" Maelaezel begins, her hand gently lifting his chin to meet her gaze.

"I couldn’t have asked for a finer pupil," she adds with a tranquil smile, as soft blue light spills from the complex nexus of cracks running across her visage.

Delphius’s voice breaks as he struggles to collect his thoughts. "Maelaezel, I–"

"Hush now, child. There is much to be done, and I will need your help," Maelaezel interrupts.

The words left unspoken linger upon his quivering lip like the lyrics of a song long forgotten. He takes a sharp breath, filling his eyes with her image before he stands and extends a gentle hand toward the frail goddess.

"What do you need me to do?"

Maelaezel extends a graceful hand, sweeping her fingers toward Sahylia’s desecrated corpse and the portal it contained within.

"This is a gate that will take us far from these lands," she declares. "High above the clouds, and as close as anyone will get to the Cosmic Mother for a millennium. It is there that I will be laid to rest."

Delphius gazes at the portal and furrows his brow in concern. "I see, but why do this to…" He gestures to the cleft figure that was once their attendant.

"How typical of you to not even learn the name of the soul you so callously pilfered from the poor waif," Maelaezel responds with a hint of reproach. "However, because of the mana you administered to Sahylia’s body, I am able to use her as a sort of 'buffer' for my own energy. Seeing as though my mana won't be a part of this world for much longer, you will need a way to meet me once my work is done."

Delphius’s head bobs in understanding.

"Unfortunately, due to some sloppy craftsmanship," Maelaezel continues, shooting a knowing glance at her knight, "this vessel will only be able to maintain the gate for a brief period after I pass through it. You will need to hold the gate open until I give the signal, then go through it yourself."

Delphius raises an important concern. "I understand, my lady, but how will I know your signal from down here?"

"Trust me, Delphius. You’d have to be blind not to see it," she reassures him.

He gives her one final nod, and she steps through the swirling white pool of mana, disappearing in an instant. Delphius, resolute and unyielding, grips Sahylia’s chest cavity, pulling it apart with all his might as it threatens to cleave his fingers from their stems.

Eons seem to shriek by as the scorching white mana burns away his armored gauntlets and begins to gnaw at his flesh. Stalwart, he holds fast, unwilling to fail his mistress’s final request.

As the virulent mana storm assaults his nerves, his thoughts turn toward his mistress, questioning, "Whatever is taking her so copiously long?"

As Delphius's thoughts coalesce, the entirety of the night sky erupts into blinding white radiance, followed by a deafening roar that shakes the very foundations of the earth. A fierce gale billows forth, decimating the castle and hurling Delphius backward from the portal's precipice. He collides onto the ground with a thud, body skidding before crashing into the ruins of the once-majestic fortress. He rises, dusting himself off before fixing a fearful gaze upon the heavens.

Recalling his mistress's command, he dives towards the closing portal, swallowed whole by its searing brilliance. Moments later, he reappears outside Chao’s atmosphere, hovering above a hallowed mass that gleams with an otherworldly, yet familiar, luminescence.

Descending to the surface, Delphius takes in the ethereal landscape. Its pale shell of perfect, evenly spaced hexagonal tiles reverberates a soft blue hue as he touches down. Gathering his bearings, he notes how the satellite's exterior bears an uncanny resemblance to the Marble Castle, now lying in ruin back on Chao. Continuing to scan his surroundings, he discerns several faint silhouettes far in the distance.

Approaching the figures in humble majesty, his eyes fixate upon seven soldiers who kneel in abject reverence before Maelaezel’s Swordspear, wedged firm into the minute gap between two tiles. Delphius retrieves the weapon, pouring over the intricate, bygone scripts that laminate the shaft and blade of the weapon.

"The Tenets. Of course…" he mutters, his voice barely a whisper.

With a swift flourish, Delphius secures the armament upon his back. The seven soldiers, recognizing the acceptance of succession, rise and salute their new monarch. The seventh among them, bearing a striking resemblance in form and figure to Sahylia, steps forward, bowing deep as she presents a small scroll to the newly anointed Lord. He accepts the scroll from her delicate hands, and she returns to her position mirroring her counterparts in salutation.

Taking a deep breath, he unfurls the parchment and absorbs the final words of his departed mistress.

“Tenet 8 - Go Forth and Strike the Heavens.”

Turning away from his devoted soldiers, Delphius releases the scroll, allowing it to dissipate into the gentle winds of his new home. A soft scowl plays upon his guise as he utters a final remark.

"Good riddance," he murmurs, and a solitary, pale tear descends to grace the surface of the celestial realm.