OCTOCOCT

CASTIEL DE HELDERZON

Meryll got up from her bed and untied her hair. She cringed as she knocked her bandaged arm against a table. It was darker than dark here in her new room in the Hellsun Castle. She felt around for a candle and whispered a little flame spell over it. It illuminated the cold stone walls around her.

It was darker than what she had bargained for. She had been naive to have expected any sense of luxury, it seemed. As when she was handed her room, without as much as a word, she had found nothing but a mattress on a hard-cemented base and a table with a little wooden chair with a candle perched in its socket.

There was a knock on the door. It echoed. Meryll opened it to see Ida, also with an illuminated candle in her hand.

"Father has summoned us," she said.

Meryll nodded. Ida suddenly came closer, "Can I come in quick," she whispered urgently.

Meryll closed the door behind her.

"Show me your arm," Ida suggested. Meryll hesitated; she had obviously not been as good as she had thought at hiding it. She had done so in order to try and prove herself to a man she was told could give her anything she desired, if she of course proved herself strong enough in his cause. "I am well versed in Medical Spellnamtics," Ida's eyes showed no hint of narcissism.

Meryll sighed in relief; her arm had been burning at a serious rate for hours now; she knew she needed medical assistance but was too afraid that she may blow her shot. She rolled off the bandage and revealed the wound; an almost bone-deep cut; hastily stitched together. Infection had already started.

"Silly girl," Ida muttered. "Seems I’m just in time."

She muttered incantation over the wound; Meryll bit down as the infection seared away under a golden glare beneath the Evflish hands which moved in motions around her pain. The thread she stitched unworked itself as Meryll's skin forged back together. She sighed in emotional release when all signs of the Terradine's cut had completely vanished.

"Thank you!" Meryll muttered.

"Don't mention it," said Ida. "I mean it. Let's get going."

Meryll felt better than ever in spite the fast and empty feeling the castle around her vibrated; as Ida led them through the quiet and long stretched corridors. The candlelight illuminated stands of old and ancient blacksteele armours; and plenty a portrait of black haired, electric-eyed family members. None of which were smiling.

Ida stopped at a door on the top of a staircase. She knocked first.

"Enter," came the voice of Sauxaur Hellsun. "Ah, children, thank you for coming. I trust you feel welcome in our humble family abode."

Meryll said nothing. She was not a good liar.

"Yes Father, thank you," said Ida.

The room as it was illuminated by a chandelier upon which burned many candles. It appeared they, the six Hellsuns, were seated behind a long tall desk. Sauxaur sat in the middle of Sinobia and S’vearre, on the largest chair; almost throne-like.

Meryll tried to catch Sinobia's glimpse, but she was looking at her father with a smile on her pail face. Her long bushes of curls almost hiding Meryll completely out of sight.

Sinobia, who she considered her best friend, had not said a word to her after they had reunited at Apalorn. She had not even said a thing when she had shown Meryll to her room. Meryll clenched her fists.

There was a knock and Calus entered. He too looked as if his eyes were masking what Meryll was feeling.

"Good. All three of you are here," said Sauxaur. "Before we begin, I sense there is something you would like to say, Sielsone?"

Calus seemed to struggle with himself.

"Sir... Fa- father... My room. I am grateful... But you have left us no blankets."

Sylus looked at Sauxaur. Emotionless.

"A mistake on my part," said Sauxaur, nodding. "I was not expecting so many with unbranded blood to support our cause."

"Also, sir," said Meryll. Addressing him for the first time; she already called a man father; she did not see it appropriate to attempt to do so now. "The lava-"

"Pardon miss, but speak only when spoken too," Sauxaur smiled at her. A large false smile. One that made her feel like he was closing walls down on her.

In the moment her eyes narrowed at him, she knew she had made a mistake. As the smile vanished off his face instantly. Sinobia was so struck by this she turned to face Meryll wide eyed and properly for the first time in days.

Sauxaur got up from his table.

"To welcome you into our family, I must first have you sign the invisible contracts of loyalty. Here, in the presence of my children. You stand before Sauxaur Salvatore; heir of De HelderZon; the brandished bloodt of the Great Levidiel S'haivel. High Priest of the Sangalagosh. The future Supreamos of all Evalend. Bow before me."

Ida and Calus wished they could look at one another in that moment for direction. When Calus felt Ida’s presence sink to her knees he did not hesitate to follow.

But Meryll however did not.

When Sinobia had described her father, she had spoken of a man who sounded warm in richness and rich in power; she had almost sold him as kind. But this was a tyrant.

She was frozen in space. She could not break Sauxaur’s gaze. She wished she could run. But where would she run to? The castle as it were was in a different dimension all together, according to her understanding.

"Sinobia, what is this?” Sauxaur asked almost in disgust without turning to her.

Sinobia looked mortified. Her blood red lips departed a fierce sharp set of teeth.

"Meryll! Do as you are told! " She shouted.

Meryll looked over to Sinobia in surprise.

"You finally speak to me -"

"Enough." said Sauxaur sharply. "This is not Mastria for children; Sinobia, you assured me this friend of yours was well prepared and aligned with the Cause."

a "Fa-father I swear..."

"With all due respect Mr Hellsun, I do have a name..."

"Your name means nothing to me without your loyalty," Sauxaur said sharply, cutting through her last bit of confidence. She was in trouble. She was about to drop down to her knees when Sauxaur spoke again.

"Sybil," he said. Sybil got up smiling. "We don’t have time to dispose of bodies. You know the drill."

"Of course, Father," said Sybil. "You know I like it when they don’t think for themselves."

"No!" Meryll gasped as she caught Sybil’s eyes.

Calus watched in masked horror as Meryll threw herself on her knees; bowing so low that her nose pressed to the cold stone ground.

NANIGEN

THE FLARE-WARROYERS

Chrys's focus shifted from the Dellfelldell that swooshed before him into his multicoloured eyes of his reflection in the window of the Galserta train; it was the early hours of the Therom morning, but Samsora had not yet come to pull the veil of the night away.

His mind swimming with thoughts. Only he, Borrin and Que were still awake. Lelie was still across from him. Snoring lightly in her sleep. The other members of Azby had retreated to their beds. There still was no sign of Nady.

Borrin was sitting with his tiny reptotoid arms folded. Staring endless without means into the visages beyond the window. Que was reading a book titled 'The Miracles of the Sylver Age" and he was grateful for their silence.

He had thought about it for long. Medioce Sanyo had tried to hint at it. There was more to the Fyrevere than it just swapping itself in to existence and in the palm of his right hand, no doubt.

There was a story behind it and he had to figure it out one way or another.

He figured Que would be the best person to ask; as she seemed to know just about the right amount of everything. Asking her, however, was a different story. He had never initiated a conversation in his life before. He could barely remember ever wanting to do so.

Que however looked up in that moment.

"Whats'up?" she asked with a small, yet nervous smile.

In that moment he recalled the horror in her eyes when he swung his Prinseton at her – right before he had received the Fyrevere. He had almost completely. Things had gotten a bit crazy since then. He thought best to start with an apology.

"Uh," he tried. "What does Apolothanks mean?"

"Oh, it's Pheaxian," Que smiled. "A popular term in Dellfelldell and used in place of an unnecessary apology. It means: thank you for allowing me to be and make mistakes."

Chrys thought about it. It would not really suffice, but he gave it a spin.

"Apolothanks." He said to her.

She blinked at him, and her eyes got a little watery, before she nodded and smiled truthfully back at him. "Oh no problem Chrys. Apolothanks to you too. I should never have used my abilities on you."

He nodded. Detecting a quick window of opportunity, he blurted the next question out before he could stop himself.

"What do you know about my sword?"

Que blinked at him behind her spectacles and thought about it for a moment; reaching into all the understanding she currently had and concentrating it down for someone whom she now considered a companion.

"Well, very little to start off with," she said, closing her book in thought. "Records will tell you many different tales about the Flarezwords. It really depends on which perspective you get your information from. But most of them agree that they are a gift from the Beyond, whichever your 'Beyond' may be, or which Omnevlions you worship. There are numerous records of its appearance over the age. But since they are said to appear at certain intervals throughout history; there seems to be nobody alive that can validate the theories – except perhaps for Kindraught. Some theories even suggest they just happen at random. It's sometimes very strewn.

"I will admit. I suffer a little cognitive dissonance whenever I see you or Sylus. It's hard to believe. It's possible that... Well... It's possible that anything and everything is probable now that they’re actually real, and here... I mean. It could be true that whoever wields both swords could possibly... But I mean... That's absurd." she laughed. Borrin, who was deeply in-thrilled by what she was telling, egged her on to continue. The door slid open and Nady walked in. Her eyes widened as she saw Chrys.

"Where have you been? " Borrin asked. "I wanted to come search but was afraid I would wake

others with my weight."

Nady sighed and stretched. "Found an empty compartment, got lost in my thoughts and fell asleep."

Que yawned widely with her hand over her mouth. "Well, I best get some rest. We are about two hours away from Galserta."

Nady smiled and waved after her.

"That's me too," Borrin nodded. "Captain Kosan said I could have a double bed again."

"Thanks for waiting up for me, B," said Nady.

She took a seat where Que had been sitting and gestured for Chrys to join her. He got up and sat across from her. Visions of her in battle flashed before him. She looked different now, her long brunette hair was untied, long to her side. Her big doe eyes were smiling at Chrys.

"So how was your first experience outside of Galserta?" she grinned.

Chrys shrugged. "It was a lot," he said. She managed a small smile.

"It's not like that everywhere," she said. "We really do our best where I come from. I'm very hard on Daddy about it."

He was not quite sure what she was telling him. She did not seem to care.

"I was wondering," she looked down at her fingers as she said this. They began to fiddle with one another almost strangely. "Would you like too maybe... Well... Hang out with us?" she blushed furiously as she said it. He had to look away to avoid her flare.

Chrys was looking out the window. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he had already considered it. But every time he tried to imagine what it must be like to have friends; he would end up feeling so frustrated that all he wanted to do was slice the blade of the Fyrevere through the Unbed Tree.

After not saying anything for a while he looked at her. Her big eyes glistened hopefully. She was beautiful.

Chrys slapped himself mentally as soon as he thought it. What was that? Had he ever thought that before?

He had. He certainly had.

He had thought it just the previous day; the moment the black-haired girl released a Speareon right through the doom of them all.

Chrys handled matters of his sexuality very privately, and had never even considered partnership, or believed in it, or even experienced what it was.

He knew that children were born with parents. He was taught how children were made. The boys from the academia days he shared a dormitory with were a lot less shy than he was. He had no experience whatsoever when it came to any of this.

"Are you okay?" Nady asked, as she watched three different emotions go through Chrys's eyes in one moment, without a single crease folding on his face.

He slapped himself mentally.

"Uh yeah.... So ... What is it you lot do in your free time anyway?"

Nady's concern vanished and she smiled.

"Well Que and I spend most our free time together, and Borrin, Spiere and Tomo all join us every break after Combat classes." Nady leaned in closer. "Que's into Tomo. But only sometimes."

He narrowed his eyes at her. Not at all sure what she meant. How could Que be inside Tomo sometimes. Was Nady telling him some kind of dark secret.

"What do you know about my sword?" Chrys asked abruptly.

Nady's eyes widened. She had not expected the question at all.

"All I truly know for certain is that my home Fredominion was said to be built by the same Omnevlions that forged the Flarezwords," said Nady. "We have libraries dedicated to the subject of the Phaeonix. Kindraught actually claims to have seen one."

"What's a Phaeonix?" Chrys finally asked. The word kept escaping him.

"Oh," said Nady. "I'm not too sure. Art depicts it as a byrd. Legends speak of it as one. But I never really cared much until recently. I only know what Que has told me really."

Chrys narrowed his eyes. She was only confusing him ever more. What had a byrd to do with his sword?

The Andregora war-lands surrounding the great walled city of Apalorn was huge in the sense that it stretched from wide open fields to numerous hills and forests that went as far as the eye can see; there was even a mountain range within permanent view.

Tamoria had set up their tent for them without a word. Luciana had cast light deflective magic around them and they had mostly slept in peace other than the fact that they were rather cramped together.

Tamoria was woken awake by Pawnick. She made her way out of the tent and yawned unhappily as she watched the last bit of smokes from the tarnished city nearby look an eye sore in the distance. The nature around them however, was of the finest quality browns and greens that came ever more vibrant the higher Samsora climbed.

They had come to Apalorn to find the so-called keys of destiny. They had left with nothing but scratches and bruises.

Tamoria had so many questions, yet she could not think of any of them as rage blinded her. Allaana was changing more and more every day; the risks they were taking were becoming larger and at this point Tamoria was quite uncertain as to what they were actually doing.

A sound came from the tent and Allaana stretched herself out with a yawn.

"Blessed Asdusri Tam," Allaana said rubbing her eyes. Tamoria ignored her.

"Blessed As..."

"Yes Allaana, I heard you."

Allaana looked at the back of Tamoria's head; she had been naïve to hope that manifesting the Spearepn of Sataya – one of the legendary Fathoms, would reprise her friend's faith in her; she had hoped the night’s rest would encourage Tamoria to renew her strength in the seemingly-impossible journey.

If Allaana were honest with herself she understood exactly where Tamoria was coming from. They were chasing prophecies and extinct Niaphireya all over Evalend at this point. They had no idea what to do or where to go to from here. Their best bet would probably be to return to the Holy Isle in search for deeper clues. The Songbook of Prophecies was the only book she had inscribed in a scroll. Luciana and her had taken shifts translating the languages and codes there-within; but apart for all the strange occurrences in Apalorn, Allaana could not help but feel she was nowhere closer to finding Thielzaphere.

Needing her friend, as much as she was sure Tamoria needed her; she walked over to her and put her hand on her best-friend's shoulder.

Tamoria pulled away “You nearly got us killed!" she yelled. “I struggle to think what could have happened if we were separated - and for what, Allaana?”

Allaana was use to Tamoria's contrariness; but she had never experienced her friend this angry. Tears boiled in her eyes and she turned away and sunk to her knees.

“That's enough, Tammy,” said Luciana, making her way out of the tent; clutching the Songbook of Prophecies in her hand. “If you feel so strongly then you should go.”

Tamoria looked at small Luciana with the most shocked expression. But Luciana gazed back at her strongly. “You know that Allaana and I have dedicated ourselves to finding Thielzaphere. You would have us return to home when there is nothing left of it?”

Tamoria looked away as tears filled her eyes. Pawnick climbed to her shoulder and licked her face sadly.

“Think about it,” said Luciana. “Meanwhile, Allaana, please bring your father's journal, I think I found something under a prophecy that correlates more or less with what I believe is this exact date.”

Allaana jumped to her feet to fetch her rucksack from the tent; appreciating Luciana greatly at that moment. Tamoria stood silent as she considered her path forward; glimpsing over to the girls as they made notes and looked from book to journal. After sometime, they exchanged a nod, and Allaana held up her notepad, and read:

“On the precise Azduom Revealeon after the fall of the Hel-king; which is this Revealeon of Bytraoven, the song as follow describes the keys which unlock the forces the last Fleaer locked away foolishly: The Song of Tri-in-Un:”

Tri-inun

OM sprang forth the Tarztarezs:

Unial as it was

Divided into Tridri.

To set ablaze the falsehoods of death:

The Feathers in Flames

The Blissful Blazes of

The One with Many Names

& Forces of Shame that no light can tame.

Sealed as Tridri back into Unial.

which unites

Now separates

which ignites

& Obliterates.

For the Tri to be released

For the Dri to be together

Unial must ascend Tridri

Trirdri must be mastered by Un.

The spell that brings together

The incantation that reveals;

The harons that bind

Guarded by the snowy peaks

In the cavern of fire

Of which Evalend would have forgotten

When the days are dire

There-within lies the last three harons of Alzapheer

Only then can Theaneathae reappear.

Rebirth and rejoice

For the Phaeonix is near!

Tamoria tried to hide her disappointment as Allaana looked up to her. Allaana did not try and muster a smile for it meant as little sense to her.

It would be pointless going on another mission for a wild goose chase. She thought back over the last three dantians. Sure, they had wasted their time in Apalorn. Nearly died.

"The swords...." Allaana said. "The Phaeonix...."

Allaana's mind rolled over and then she gasped.

"Have you guys ever heard the legends of the Phaeonix?"

Tamoria snorted, Luciana however, nodded.

"What is the importance of this, Allaana?"

“My father told me that many many times ago, in the Aodd of the Helios, when the Omnevlions walked among life on Evalend in many a thousand form, a being powerful enough to end the vortexes of death was forged and given to Evalend.

“The legend goes that two swords appear every three hundred years to two different lenders and if those swords were to unite, then from the swords would spring the Phaeonix."

" Sounds like a fickle tail to me," Tamoria remarked.

" Mum use to tell it's supposed to represent the unification of two souls, " said Luciana dreamily.

" Dedea believed it," said Allaana looking into the distance. A tear formed in her eye.

Tamoria narrowed her eyes. For she knew that the late Parliot Wincrest was not taken lightly in his words; and would not share sheer nonsense to his daughter.

Allaana chuckled sweetly ever so suddenly

"They were there," she said. Bursting into tears. "The Flarezwords were there. The keys of destiny were actually there."

Tamoria looked over to Luciana worriedly. Then Luciana gasped.

"Oh my Allaana. You're saying those two wallans.... Oh my..." Luciana started laughing. She had not lost faith in Allaana one bit.

"Don't tell me you ladies have hit your heads!" Tamoria hissed; but even she could not deny the sense of relief that her two friends vibrated as Allaana wiped tears from her eyes and Luciana giggled to give her a hug. Tamoria sighed and shook her head. She will sure her friends would fill her in with their findings and convince her to join them on wherever they would go.

She of course, would be stubborn about it, but she did have faith in her friend. Her friend had after-all, opened the long-forgotten Library of Silvertron; and had saved them successfully in Apalorn. It was enough for her to hold on to her faith; at least for now. Luciana was right, after all, they did not have a home to return too.

Allaana wept as Luciana tightened her hug around her. She was on the right path after all. For now, that was all that mattered.

Chrys was still awake by the time the train came to a halt at the Galserta grounds, but hanging by a thread, with the Fyrevere sheathed and over his shoulder, he unlocked and slid open the train door before he made a run for his room at the Boy's Tower. He was in luck. There was nobody as far as the eye could see. Galserta was asleep. Chrys had never appreciated the fresh air of the Galserta grounds as much as he had in that moment. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was fighting dragons with Lelie and Nady and being saved from them by the girl in the purple hood.

Chrys woke up a mere three hours after he's return to his bed by the sudden eruption of cheers in the hallway beyond the door of his singlet; he groaned in frustration as his dreams slipped away – they had been pleasant this time, he was sure of it. Agitated, he kicked out of bed and belted his pants on before swinging his door open agitatedly. The hallway was filled with the over-enthusiasm of cheering Aventier boys.

"We have the rest of the dantian off!" said a boy nearby to his onlooking confusion. "Our results will be announced tomorrow!"

"Keep it down," Chrys said. But nobody heard him.

He swung the door close and pulled at his hair when a knock came.

"Hey Chrys!" it was Tomo. Smiling up at him.

"Er hey," said Chrys.

Tomo blinked at him. "You're not going to invite me in?"

"Why?"

The smile faded off Tomo's face. "Oh... I thought we were friends..."

Chrys slammed the door in his face. He was too tired and his head was far too racy to entertain anybody at this point. He fell to his bed and spent the next two hours feeling bad about slamming Tomo out of his life so abruptly.

He then proceeded to feel even more upset when he realized there were far more bigger things to think about. He just did not have time for friends.

A knock came on his door just as Chrys folded in his bed sheets in frustration.

"Kion! Blessed Asdudri ...."

"Blessed Asdudri, Medioce," Chrys tried his best to hide his agitation.

"May I come in?" Chrys stepped aside and allowed the mediator into his little room, suppressing the eye roll. "Well Kion, how did the exam go?"

"The Mayor died," said Chrys.

Medioce Sanyo nodded and folded his hands; he examined Chrys's tiny space with an impression of seeming impressed. The young-man's room was simple: neat and tidy and seemingly sparkling clean. The Fyrevere was sheathed and placed on a small table next to the small single bed.

"I read the full rapport," he said. "Those darn Hellsons. And poor Hellboy. Such potential gone to waste."

Chrys said nothing, not sure that he agreed. Truth be told he had been suppressing the weighing thoughts of Sylu; he made a pact with his narrative that he would think it through nicely when less things were happening around him, yet the time and space had not properly presented itself yet. His mind was swimming upstream against the flows of his unformed questions.

"I must say Kion," Med Sanyo continued. "I was very impressed when I read that it was you who slayed helblitzer. I’ll admit I favor you amongst the current Hecatier lot.” Chrys blinked; before he could give it much thought, howeer, Medioce Sanyo had already swung him to a different plane. "Medioce Prince has requested I ask of you to swing by her classroom when the academic day closes?"

Chrys nodded and Sanyo smiled widely at him before he made a movement to leave the young man to his thoughts. "Congratulations Kion," he said before he left. "I know you've got this."

Que and Nady had taken to their usual tradition of taking long walks around Galserta as they did whenever they had personal girl matters to discuss; plucking from the abundance of floral from the godfordt’s fields.

"Not a single word," Que said. "And then to find him crying into Mogadi's shoulder..."

Nady shook her head. Plucking a petal from a dellffodil and letting it go into the wind.

"Mogadi was just consoling him," she said. "She would do it for any of us. I can sense it about her."

Que nodded at the logic, although it did not make fer feel any better. Nady sighed as she released the last petal of her flower into a gust.

"Any developments on your side?" Que asked.

Nady turned her, for there were plenty of thoughts she was keen to share with her best friend. The exam may have been short, but the events that had unfolded had left all who had participated with many streams of uncatogarised thoughts. Que herself had experienced Nady like never before, and her own questions were stockpiling.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Nady furrowed her brows before she tossed the stem aside. It was only fair that she shared aportion of her thoughts and feelings. There was after all, so much she was hiding.

"Well, I spoke to Chrys alone for the first time..."

"And?" Que, who had known of Nady’s little crush on the Lone Wolf for a while now, smiled cheekily.

"Well..." said Nady. "It's a good start, isn’t it? I feel like he's coming around... Maybe slowly. I have always felt that field-exams should be held sooner to aid in social development."

"Now that's illogical," said Que with a sigh. "Imagine sending a bunch of Level Pentiers into suicide 'Save the Mayor’ missions."

Nady could not help but burst a laugh before she straightened herself. "To be fair, Que, nobody expected us to go and do that, you know."

Que shrugged "What do you make of the Fyrevere?" she asked.

Nady first thought about it for a moment; "Yeah... That's... I feel like it's a sign that I'm looking in the right direction, at the very least. Like the gods themselves have agreed that... That there is more to Chrys than meets the eye. And always has been."

Que thought back to the first time she saw Chrys. She almost never heard him speak unless asked questions by the mediators. Even then his answers were always short, on point and followed by silence. She had never given him much thought until Nady started pointing him out more to her in conversation. The crush had started developing in the middle of the previous year; only as of late had things gained any form of momentum, and was becoming ever more interesting as things progressed.

"I wonder if all the legends could be true...." said Que.

"I have sent word to Pheax," said Nady with a smile. "They all seem very excited by the news. Daddy says he's on it."

Her eyes widened. She had spoken to fast. She tried to hide the guilt in her vibration. Que had already picked it up.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Que dared ask.

Nady spotted a bush of roses and darted towards it. Fully aware that she was ignoring Que's question. Que, on the other hand, was almost certain she had already uncovered Nady’s little secret. If her suspicions were true she feared it would bring conflict to her current understanding to the bond they shared. Having kicked off from the moment Nady had transferred to Galserta four years ago, Que considered Nady her closest friend, and had trusted her as such. Yet as it became ever more apparent that Nady had no intention of answering her, her emotions got the better of her;

"Let's go," she said. Nady picked up on the sharpness, but she put it aside as she followed her friend. "Tomo asked us nicely to attend the parting-ceremony the Hecatiers has arranged for the fallen."

Flint observed Ripple observing Mogadi and Tomo as they stood before a portrait of two young blonde Hecatiers who had Fallen during the upgrade-exam in Apalorn.

A committee had organized a small gathering of exchanging memories to commence the fifteen lives that had perished in the exam.

Flint was delighted when Ripple had invited him to join. She had run into Tomo and Mogadi, who had been amongst the first to spread the word. He was even more delighted when Whisp had accepted his extended invite to join him.

Flint had never been invited to join any group or party in the seven years that he had been with Galserta. During his off time, he enjoyed fire-proofing his room to test the extent of his magik. He had always wished to be included, but had always considered himself different, and was of the opinion that others avoided him for this reason. He never seemed to draw any special attention, although he observed the lenders around him with great curiosity, and sought to get to know others on a deeper level.

Ripple was watching the unfolding around her with a small frown and sad eyes. It seemed to Flint that she was somewhat suppressing her feels. Or as if she was not certain of how to feel.

He smiled over to Whisp, who returned it warmly. Whisp on the other hand, was more than flattered to be welcomed as a friend by the likes of another boy.

Whisp had always gotten along much better with the opposite sex, although his greatest desire was to find his place with other boys, so much that he often found he over did it before he could stop himself. As others had grown to get to know him this way, he had grown accustomed to it.

Flint however, did not only accept this about Whisp, but seemed to return the sentiment with more than warmth.

He blushed slightly when the flame-magi put his hand on his, but was not surprised.

Ripple put her soft skinned hand on the other one. They shared in the sentiment when Mogadi and Tomo appeared at the table.

"Thank you, guys, for coming," Tomo said with a small smile. "I'm surprised at the turn out."

In the catering building of the Galserta Mastria, eighty other Hecatiers about, conversating in morbid tones about the events they had all survived, in honor of those who had not.

"You have invited the rest of our team, Tomovotius?" Ripple asked.

"Mogadi managed to invite Que and Nady," Mogadi nodded.

"I couldn't find the boys," said Tomo. "And… well, Chrys slammed the door in my face before I could get the chance."

There was a moment of silence as all the members of the former Team Azby present reacted with the same offence taken.

"That's not cool at all," Flint said with a grimace.

"That Chrysleon," said Ripple shaking her head. "I can never tell with him."

Whisp nodded. "And with what Sylus has proven himself to be... I struggle to think where his head may be going in regards to that Flarezword."

"What are you saying?" asked Tomo suspiciously.

"You've heard the legends, right?" Whisp asked. Tomo shook his head. "Oh. Well let's just say... Great power is said to come to one of those who wield the Flarezwords… Sylus has already made himself clear. Chrys is pushed into a corner. Chrys has got no other option but to become the same monster... Or die that is."

Ripple eyed Whisp darkly. "Do you believe Chrysleon would use such power for the lesser good?"

Whisp shrugged. "Who knows. All I'm saying is nobody knows him. Or whether he even knows himself. He didn’t look into my eyes once during the exam."

"Mogadi believes there is more to Chrys," Mogadi chimed in, sensing the paranoia around her. "Mogadi sees the Mohlabeni in his eyes. She sees his heart open more every time Mogadi sees him."

Ripple spotted Nady and Que enter the hall and waved over to them.

"Hello Nadanae. Hello Quezen," Ripple smiled. "Where are the others?"

"Borrin and Spiere say they didn’t know any of the fallen well enough to feel they should attend," said Que.

"And I haven't seen Lelie or Chrys," said Nady. She looked to all of them. "Where's Halori?"

Tomo gasped in pure horror. "I completely forgot about her!"

Halori finished the last smudges of her pencil drawing. She gave it a blow and held it back and smiled at an almost identical led copy of the Fyrevere.

It was a hobby of hers to copy every weapon she ever came across down on scrolls to add to her already large collection.

The Fyrevere was by far the rarest piece to date. She considered herself extremely lucky.

She had been working on it the whole morning since she had heard that their classes had been suspended until the results of the exam were announced. There was no point to leave the room.

Although a part of her would even go as far as to say she had considered the exam 'fun', in spite of all the bad things that would end up happening; she noticed how much slower she was walking amongst her team; and had learned from a young age how to rather not make herself a nuisance in groups; as so many other girls had reminded her whenever she had tried in the past. Modest, she did not even consider the amount of help she had truly provided her formation over the course of the exam.

She nearly sighed sadly but decided she would draw Spiere’s Oseni rather, when suddenly came a knock on the door.

Surprised, she kicked herself off her little stool and stretched to pull the handle to reveal Mogadi and Nady.

"Ah, Mogadi was correct," Nady smiled. Mogadi nodded next to her.

"Mogadi and the rest of the team are paying our last Hecatier respects to our fallen peers," Mogadi said.

"And then we plan on getting together for a team pick-nick in the Ored Woods before Samsora says goodnight," Nady grinned. "You're coming, right?"

Halori's heart leapt. She had to bite down on her lip.

"Oh... Um..."

"Put on your sandals," Mogadi smiled her whitest teeth. "Mogadi and Nady will wait for you."

The sharp point of the Oseni came in for a stab and Borrin hooked his axe and swung around as Spiere was pulled and nearly disarmed. He smiled at his big friend. Borrin did a little bow. Spiere made another joking jab before he put his lancerian straight next to him; wiping sweat from his brow.

"Phew! you think the girls will be less emotional after they've bid goodbyes to the fallen?"

Borrin shrugged; he was the last one to speak about the minds of women.

"Although you can't deny it," Spiere said with a huff. "They were somewhat stranger in Apalorn... I mean Nady's reaction on the train. I think the more boys are around them, the crazier they get!"

"Hey!"

They turned to see Lelie approaching with her hands in her pockets. Spiere turned to Borrin with huge eyes and did his best to wipe his messy hair back into style. Borrin could not help but laugh as he watched his best friend's frequency change and straighten itself out the closer Lelie got.

"Hello Lelloney," Borrin smiled.

"H-hi Lelie!" Spiere exclaimed almost to sweetly.

"Hey Spiere. Hey Borrin. Please Borrin, keep it at Lelie. You boys haven't seen Chrys around anywhere?"

Spiere tried his best to hide his disappointment. Borrin shrugged.

"Have you tried the Lone... Um... That alley?"

“I wouldn’t dare," Lelie said. "I’ve heard the younger ones say he eats books and children in that alley."

Borrin and Spiere laughed hard at this. Lelie seemed very satisfied with the results.

"You not attending the send-off to the fallen?

"I... " Lelie thought of the smartest way to put it. She of course had known as much of the fallen through observation as much as any of the others had. However, Lelie was as unfamiliar and scared of the concept of death as most lenders were. And Lelie did not know herself to be someone who fared well with any of her fears. "I didn’t know them."

Spiere shrugged in understanding

. "Well, we are just going through some of our offensives and blocking... Would you like to join us?"

Lelie was shocked at the offer. Her eyes twinkled in a moment so directly at Spiere that his knees nearly went weak.

"Sure," she said with a cheeky smile. She pulled a scroll out of her apouche and her eyes turned into an almost violent intimidating glare; the same of which Borrin had witnessed as she ripped the Politea soldiers at Apalorn to shreds.

Chrys sat in the shadows of the Lone-Wolf alley.

It was a little section in between two housing towers across from the Ored Woods on the other side of the Mastria; where things were a lot quieter and privater. It was Chrys’s go-to place when he felt to claustrophobic in the confides of his singlet, and when he did not feel like training or there was a need to study in fresh air, this alley would be the place he would come to.

Discovered some years ago while taking a stroll, the few times that other students of Galserta came across him there, he had been so absorbed in his studies or meditations that he had not even noticed. Yet whispers and rumours had come from those occasions, and although Chrys did not know it, many of students had come to know this alley as the Lone Wolf’s Alley, and each time it was called this, another stupendous joke would formulate around it.

With his finger tracing over a page of a book titled Warlords Who Fell by The Sword; one of the two books he had found that had contained the words 'Phaeonix' 'Flarezword' 'Fyrevolt' or 'Fyrevere’ in its indexes'. The passage he was currently reading was but a short tale of which had been documented to have taken place six hundred years ago:

"Pytrovius Davlier, the Mastadon of Oreagon, wielded both of the Flareswords and led many an army to victories with the aid of his beloved Eternapophea. He was largely believed to have won the Fyrevolt in an unknown village but he would prefer history not know the truth of his Fyreverema:

The truth revealed that Pytrovius was given the blade as was his son, Asahon Davlier.

It is stated that before Pytrovius was killed, he admitted his dishonour before the legendary hero of the downtrodden, Farziwxa Ningwastaz.

Said to have sneaked in to Pytrovius's castle of riches in the depths of the night. She stabbed him through the heart with a dagger and claimed the Fyreverema as her own.

The recordings of her amazing and wonderful doings are strewn through the courses of history however, they, with the tales of Eternapophea have little to with Warlords who fell by the sword..."

Chrys groaned in frustration and shut the book as properly as he could without throwing it into smithereens. In his attempt at his own research on the Flarezwords he had gotten nowhere closer to knowing what a Phaeonix was. He picked up The Glossary of Evalend Legends and scanned the index to find the page and section he was looking for.

THE PHAEONIX - (not to be confused with the phoenixes; native to the continent of Nedergand)

The Phaeonix is mythologised to be a Gamandri of Heldwolyn Fyre and Haelion Vlam; speculated widely as myth, the Phaeonix is rumoured to make several appearances in Evalend's questionable and fractured history. Although evidences are weak and easily disproved, the legend of a Phaeonix erupting from the tips of equally rumoured swords, have become the suspicion of elder myths and stories, combined to one. Where the origins of the legendary phaeonix could have sprung from the Pheaxian way of combiation and alchemy and combining different aspects to create a new; and the basis behind the Belief of the Never ending cycle; Rather symbolising the union of our own bodies and minds to represent the mastering over duality.

The phoenix is symbolised as a force that taketh the form of a fyre engulfed Bird.

To this date all documented recordings of the Phaeonix are as questionable as any of the religious records.

Now that was logical. Nady and Que both had to be barking up the wrong tree. Chrys did not consider himself a superstitious person; unsure as to whether or not he believed in any of the Omniscaeon Codes; never attending any of the religious gathering the Godfordt hosted; Chrys attempted to keep a sense of rationalism and logic as his basis to experiencing his reality; yet the Fyrevere did just explode into his life in the most illogical sense.

He groaned at the paradox. Why would Chrys be chosen by anything larger than him if he in himself still considered himself so small. Certainly, the Flarezwords appearing to him and Sylus were of divine nature. Or perhaps a chemical reaction of a Magik that Chrys could not quite understand yet. Sighing miserably for the lack of expansion of his knowledge; he got up as the shadows before him began to draw long, and started his way over to his commitment. Knocking on Medioce Prince’s office door a couple of minutes later.

"Come in," she called.

Chrys walked in to find her sitting at her desk with a seat ready for him and cup of steaming something.

"Hi Chrys," she said. "Apolothanks I have not spoken to you yet. I know things have been crazy."

Although the time between then and their last meeting had been short.

"T-thanks," he said; taking his cup and blowing on the rim.

"How did it go?"

Chrys sighed and decided on honesty: "I'm not really sure how I feel about everything."

Medioce Prince nodded. "Understandable, Chrys. Therefore, I have called you in for a quick integration. What was your impression of your first real combat?”

Chrys narrowed his eyes. He realized that he had barely thought about it. The blood that had been spilled by his hands; he never took as much as a second look at the soldiers who fell by the likes of his Fyrevere. He had barely thought of the pain as he was overpowered by the Red-Reptotoid shortly afterwards. His mind had been so busy with other things that combat simply seemed to him as just another thing that had happened amongst the others. Sylus and his deflection from Galserta; Girls with legendary powers and amazing combat-skills; Comrades who considered him a friend. After his long silence, Medioce Prince spoke up again. "It's important to be able to talk about experiences. As you have spent your whole life inside this Godfordt... You were taught from a young age that battle and the fight for Evalend does not come without price. That your life itself is the wager you bet when you take up, you’re training and classes under the Good Fight. Sadly, for you, you did not have a choice in deciding whether this is your Way of Life. I thought I best check in with you." Chrys was unsure why she was scratching this deep. Or whether he could grasp the sentiment.

"Do you believe in the fight for Evalend? Do you believe your life a worthy price in our stand against the Dyster?"

Chrys looked away from her. Not sure whether he valued his life at all. It was true that the Mastria prepared their students from their academical days for what the world had in store with him. Early on in his Mastrial Tiers, Chrys had seen plenty of students be sent back to their homes if they proved unfit to stand up in battle for the Will of the Good Fight; wherest the orphaned and abandoned were employed under the Godfordt to work in the farms, docks or kitchens.

"When I was fighting," Chrys recalled, sensing that the sooner he spoke, the sooner he could leave. "It was more... Like everything I have learned... They just became me. All I had to do was push against myself."

In fact, he was almost sure he had enjoyed the battle. The thrill of the challenge and the reward of the win. He did not say this out loud. Medioce Prince observed him with her apathetic stare; however, there was but the smallest hint of a bright twinkle in her eye. "I have sensed it about you ever since you were a young wally. You have the frequency and potential of a strong waleon."

He sipped on his condiment;. Medioce Prince threw a look at her door behind Chrys; almost suspiciously before she leaned slightly closer.

"Do you believe Syluscion Hellson attempted to lure you into that trap?"

Chrys looked up wide-eyed. He sighed and nodded.

"Do you understand why, Chrys?"

"I think he wants to kill me and take my sword because he believes he can summon some kind of mythological bird."

Medioce Prince’s eyes narrowed at him almost fiercely. "That is not funny, Chrys!”

Chrys, who had never made a joke before, was unsure why her frequency had suddenly become so intense. Certainly, she did not have those superstitions as well?

"Chrys... You must be prepared," she looked away, seemingly struggling with herself. "To protect your Fyrevere at all cost..."

The door behind them swung open. Both of them jolted and Medioce Prince’s eyes widened in shock as Chrys swung around.

"Ah Nina," it was Medioce Webber, shaking her head. "I best stop you there. You know better than to ignore the masters’ rulings.”

Medioce Prince looked away guiltily.

"Were you eavesdropping on us?" Chrys shot at Medioce Webber, astounded by her audacity. The Medioce turned to him with a look of great offence. She looked down at her bruised hand.

"I could not help but feel your sword close-by as I was leaving the castle," she said looking at him with dull-eyes. "I found it highly suspicious that you would be here after educational hours. Integration sessions have to be authorized; you know this Medioce Nina."

"Alright, Sylvia," said Medioce Prince. "I hear you. I suppose you will be declaring this to the masters."

Medioce Webber smiled at her almost spitefully. "Right this instant in fact."

Chrys felt an impulse harted tempt him to toss the Fyrevere right through her.

"Is it that you have your own investment in the Cause, Sylvia?" Medioce Prince called after her, more before she could stop herself. Chrys narrowed his eyes auspiciously. What was she talking about? Medioce Webber froze in the door frame.

“You're pushing it, Nina," she said. "You are of little innocence to project so on to me."

Chrys turned to see Medioce Prince bite down on her fusiosness.

"I expect the masters will summon you within the hour. You best send the pup off to his tower."

She left to the side. Chrys, boiling, turned to face Medioce Prince who sighed before reflecting a softer gaze back at him.

"Get out of here," she sighed.

But more desperate questions had formulated for Chrys. His condiments only half finished and cold, he put the cup down hardly yet unintentionally as the insides spilled over the mediator’s desk; she looked at him apathetically and he did his best to burn her with every question he had as he returned the glare. She took a deep breath, nodded at him, and spoke. "Kion, you must believe in the process. Believe in yourself like the gods believe in you. Now please," she got up and straightened her uniform before making a move to the door. She stood and gestured for Chrys to leave.

He got up and left without looking back. Fists clenched and so consumed with annoyance that none of his questions had time to form themselves properly. Pushing the fort’s big doors open, he stomped himself down the steps; the blanket of the night having put Samsora to sleep in the interim.

"There you are!"

Chrys turned to see Lelie, walking with Spiere and Whisp, leading the rest of the former Team Azby. He's fists unclenched and the tension ceased the closer they seemed to get. They all seamed in high spirits with a smile on each face.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," Lelie said.

"True story," Nady said with a smile.

"We even tried the alley," said Whisp winking. "Well, Mogadi was brave enough to dare it anyway..."

They chuckled. Chrys narrowed his eyes at them. Unsure what the joke was. Nady caught on to it and quickly shuffled.

"We had a chill in the Oreds," she said. "Really enjoyed each other's company."

"Yeah," said Spiere “Although we really missed your presence. Not the same without you."

Everybody looked at him with a look that told him they agreed; he avoided Tomo's smile though. He looked away as his heart skipped a beat.

"Alas, we have found you Chrysleon," said Ripple. "Just in time as well. We are going to go grab supper together. It appears you should join us."

Chrys was not sure he could accept the offer as the air thickened around him. Perhaps he would go chop some Ored Trees. Lelie could sense him making an escape route.

"You don't have a choice," she said very directly. "Right, Nady?"

Nady smiled. "One final mission as Team Azby for you Chrys Kion. Before the craziness of Aventier and battles for Phaeonixes begin."

Chrys looked at her and to Lelie; feeling the encouragement of the other nine behind them. They had such a way of making heavy things feel lighter again. He looked away and nodded. Lelie and Nady exchanged looks of victory and success as everybody cheered. Without another word they were a crowd around him as they made way to the dining-centre.

He felt a particularly low vibration and turned slightly to see Tomo was walking next to him, red in the face, as if holding on to something with his throat. When Tomo felt Chrys's glare upon him, he looked up and sighed massively.

"Look Chrys..." he said shaking his head. "I just want to Apolo-"

"Apolothanks," Chrys sighed. "It wasn’t... I was just..."

"No," said Tomo as all colour appeared back in his face. Relief fell over what seemed to be all over Galserta. "it's so alright Chrys. You are allowed to be however you are." Chrys looked at Tomo whose eyes were twinkling. "Whoever you are, I hope we can be friends."

"We are," Chrys said before he could stop himself. It flashed before him the relief when the Red-Reptotoid had fallen in Apalorn; the pressure he had felt when he watched his team-mates struggle in battle and the momentum Tomo had given him. Tomo blushed fiercely and knew that whatever more there was to say, it did not need to be spoken.

Behind them Ripple clutched her chest in warmth as Mogadi wiped an unexpecetd tear from her eye.

Samsora was bright with pride on the Asduere; the tenth day of Astraglyph: at the strike of the second hour of the day, the giant bell of Galserta rung seven times to indicate the results of the Aventier upgrade exam were ready to be announced.

Chrys found Spiere, Borrin and Tomo waiting suspiciously outside his room. They, like him, dressed in their red and blue Level Hecatier uniforms for perhaps the last time. They all smiled at him warmly and he nodded in response.

Together they merged with the stream of boys that rushed out of the tower in different kaleidoscopes of emotions.

Whisp and Flint was next to them before they got outside; both donning a white and red magicap respectively; with a red ribbon attached a piece. Chrys was not surprised to find all the girls waiting for them. They all looked neat and well tucked in; with hair all plated to the side neatly. They were all smiling brightly; Chrys however kept stern and they made their way to the grand assembly building of Galserta. Filled with red uniformed students by this stage. On the centre stage stood Medioces Prince as well as Webber. Behind them Chrys spotted the twelve Thetiers that had accompanied them on the exam, uniformed in grey. Chrys caught Kosan's eye and the simlender winked at him. Chrys nodded at his former commander as he seated himself in between of Lelie and Nady; who both seemed to blush for no specific reason clear to him. There was a flash and a loud crack of lightning as Meastre Garbell appeared on the stage; lenders of Galserta had grown accustomed to this grand entrance over the years they had spent under his Mastership; they knew that the louder the bang of lightning, the more important the assembly.

He held out his hand to Maestrame De Law as he helped her up the steps to the stage. The Hecatiers applauded as the Masters smiled to them.

“Blessed Asduere and welcome to your last summoning as Galserta’s Hecatiers!”

The crowd cheered and chorused his welcome back at him; Chrys was surprised to hear the excitement in Lelie's voice and she wolf-called.

"Strong wallans and famzels. Herewith the conclusion of the Apalorn field exam:

It was as if the atmosphere itself held its breath.

“'With the breach of the third rim, Primadorn, the guard of Galserta was forced in to battle and held the forces of the Politea. The palace remained unharmed besides for minor damage done by the Hellblitzer-Drakeon. Students, you must forgive this old meastre for I never understood the severity of what I had signed you lot up for.

“The Hellblitzers are a powerful manifestation of pure malice; concentrated, forged, and shaped into a horrendous monster with little consciousness. The one recovered in Apalorn was a signature creation of that of the Helsoyns.”

Low conversations in mumbles and whispers broke out around Chrys.

“I heard Sylus killed the Mayor...” someone whispered behind Chrys. He rolled his eyes.

“Three of our Hecatiers students are said to have deflected from our ranks and are said to be involved in the murder of Mayor Amaria Apalorn the Cixtridri. Yes, Hecatiers, it is true that Apalorn has fallen for perhaps the last time in its unfortunate history. All evidence should suggest this was done at the hand of a cult of Hellsons, with a high hand in the usage of the dangerous powers of the Dysterness.”

The crowd seemed to have only learned this at the announcement; as suddenly the whispers became louder, more urgent, more panicky.

“These three Hecatiers have therefore not only failed the upgrade exam, but are therefore suspects and are wanted by the Dellfelldell Special Forces themselves. These three are: Idalese Verlorehart; Calusore Sielsone, and Syluscion Hellson.”

The crowd no longer regarded any respect as everybody spoke over each other to layer out their opinions and concerns. Lelie sighed darkly next to Chrys, Nady shook her head miserably.

“Come to calm,” said the Meastre gently; the crowd fell silent. “We implore any of you who have information regarding their intentions, deflection, or whereabouts, to come forward and let us know. Any involvement in the likes of practise with the Dysterness is punishable by execution, if any of you are caught in the wrong webs of the black evils that threaten our peace and strife, come forward, please. Let us do what we can for you, there is always a better road to walk.

“Apalorn is now being investigated by the likes of Dellfelldell's finest. We shall keep any of you interested in the aftermath up to date by request. However, we always advise you never attach your heart or emotions to your missions; guard your psyches with the utmost respect; if any of you require any mental integration or simply the outlet of a listening ear, please schedule an appointment with your Head of Tier.”

Chrys wondered if this was directed at him; Medioce Prince, behind Meastre Garbell, was looking apathetically at the back of the Meastre. Medioce Webber's lips, however, curved into a thin spiteful smile. It was felt by Chrys, who rolled his eyes.

“Now, as you may have heard, we had fifteen casualties during the course of the exam. I will now announce their proud names: Abana Lou; Barron Dorifield; Charl Saban; Danie Rubenhart...”

Chrys only half-listened to these names being called out; he heard sniffs echo from all around; some tears were being sobbed. Next to him, Lelie was twiddling her fingers. He decided it best to not roll his eyes, as a show of respect to the fallen, none of which he knew.

“Any close friends of the fallen may request to attend their final farewells, provided this does not conflict with any scheduled upcoming missions. Please refer to your Head of Tier for further instruction on this. We shall send them off with the last chorus of our Galserta Song!”

He cleared his throat and started them off:

our hearts gripped as hilts

WE cry out to the heavens

THE WILL OF THE GOOD FIGHT IN US ALL

Galserta stands proud

Galserta sings loud

FOR Evalend

WE Arise to THE Call!

“Go well on the wings of the beyond, fallen lenders of Galserta; we are proud of you!”

There was a cheer after the Meastre spoke and then he smiled again.

“Now for the good part of this assembly. I, and the rest of your Medioces, are very proud to announce that all of you present here today, have accomplished the last resorting mission of protecting Apalorn's castle; with some of you exceeding expectations in your missions by a long shot. Therefore, we are proud to upgrade every last one of you!” He clapped his hands together and thunder echoed in the Hall. “Congratulations to all, and welcome to Aventier!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Chrys rolled his eyes as Spiere, Nady and just about everybody around him threw their old red blazers up into the sky.

“Now: For your first official brief as an Aventier:

“Hencefroth you will be devided into formations consisting anywhere between ten and fifteen students; your instructors have come together to discuss their observations they have accumulated of all of you during the exam; and have arranged and sorted you all into appropriate formations.

“This formation will be equivalent to your family for the next year, until your Contier upgrade. This will be your formation as we send you out into the world of Evalend to expand your knowledge and skills, and to find yourself in diverse and complex situations, with diverse and complex comrades – the recipe of the Will of the Good Fight; you will reach far into Evalend and do your best to bring your home Godfordt, Galserta, much pride as you grow!”

“Your first missions as an Aventier, serves more as a congratulations from us as a Mastria. We have arranged a mission in the form of community service for each of the twenty-five formations we have selected. You will embark on these missions in the course of the following dantian; each mission has been arranged with a member of each formations' home towns, as is Galserta tradition.”

“We shall now announce the Honorary Formation who fared the best and scored the highest marks during the exam in Apalorn. I will call your names and your achievement in celebration. The rest of your formations will be called in to your new Head of Tier, Medioce Nina Prince’s office during the day, and you will all be sorted with your missions at the ready by the set of Samsora.”

“Oh boy!” Que gasped two seats away from Chrys. He sighed inwardly.

“When I call your names, please stand and come to the centre stage.” Meastre Garbell smiled. “Borrin Alisaleos! Chrysleon Kion! -” Chrys's eyes widened in horror and several persons in the crowd reacted. Lelie gasped next to him - “Halori Leander Forestar! Karliscle Flintus Agnitius! Lelloney Lane Greenstone! S'piereatore Lancelot Litentide! Nadanae Getrienne Pharon! Quezen Vencheng! Whisp Eldevyn Wildomier! Rizara Penolople Coventina! The proud formation under Commander Kosan Goagon; Team Azby as they were known during the exam! Now don't be shy!”

Nady wide-eyed looked over to Chrys nervously but Lelie jumped to her feet. The hall was awkwardly silent as Chrys got up to his feet after Nady. Que had tears in her eyes. They began to walk very quickly; and Chrys could hear the crowd mutter things like “Lone Wolf – Spoiled Brat – Weird-ling...”

His face burnt red; unsure of what he felt in that moment. He shook Kosan's proud monkey-hand, and then he shook the hands of a proud frequenting Medioce Prince, a smiling Maestrame DeLaw, and a dull-faced Medioce Webber; before Meastre Garbell took his arm in his and shook it with a big smile. He gestured for the twelve to face the crowd and then he nodded proudly.

“Here they are!” and a flash of lightning and thunder. The crowd erupted; most to Chrys's shock; they were cheering and applauding. Ripple smiled at Flint who raised his hand in the air; Whisp, Lelie and Que wiped tears from her eyes. Nady shot a smile at Chrys and shook Spiere’s hand before giving the big Borrin a wide hug.

“These honorary Aventiers will follow Medioce Prince to be informed of their new ways forward. With that, I call the end of a very proud assembly.

“Enjoy your year and your youth on your adventures; and may the wings of the beyonds always return you safely back home to us.”

Luciana pulled her funniest face at Pawnick, who looked back at her with endearing eyes over Tamoria's shoulder. Anything to make themselves feel lighter. The tension between their two best friends were at an all-time high.

Allaana had requested they stay at an inn nearby as she tried to figure out the prophecy. Halrihgt, located on the outskirts of the Andregora warlands, was a small little town currently occupied with many a foot from the Apalorn middle-class, who had been left without homes.

"We are so far from anywhere we call home," Tamoria had said. "Pawnick and I are tired of feeling lost in the dark."

After hours at end, Allaana had given in sombrely. And the three girls agreed they would return to the SIlvetron Temple, purely out of not knowing what else they could do, or where else they could go.

Luciana could tell that Allaana's hopes over the last dantian were hanging on thin threads of hope. She too still chose to have faith, however. Although she was not quite sure of what.

“The nearest train will take us to Aliscea. We will be about a day’s walk out from Moremere -where we left our motor-vessel. We will need to travel through the Unnamed Forest; daddy use to say it's one of the safest spaces in all Dellfelldell.

Tamoria looked away from Allaana. Still very much unsure of the road ahead. She did not look forward to going back to the isolation of the library, yet what would she do out here in the great big world besides spending all their Delly and energy scurrying around for nothing.

And she could not leave. Where would she go too. Their home was destroyed. Everything they had loved and known, gone in the blink of an eye in the whispers of fyre.

When she realised this her heart softened and Pawnick purred against her chest in sync with her breath.

"Look Allaana," said Tamoria as they waited by the train station. "I... Apolothanks. I just feel we should plan a bit better and get well rested. We may find better clues at the library. It’s not like I don’t see the harons.”

Luciana smiled the warmest smile she had in ages and quoted a passageway her mentor Parliot had taught her:

“For the Omnivalor no longer shout. No. The time for shouting is long over. Although the fickle minds of those blessed with the breath of life may have forgotten this. The Omnevalor surrender their intensities a long time ago;

They whisper... In between the choruses of our realities... Look out for the glints and shines... When you follow the road less travelled, it is the Harons that will lead you to the real blessings the Omnevalor left behind when they wished Evalend's ever threading-pattern forward into being. "

Allaana shed a tear and both of her friends reached for her to embrace her; Pawnick purring against her from Tamoria's chest.

“Congratulations to all of you for earning the prestige achievement of honorary formation. This was decided for your endurance during the failed retrieval of the mayoer and in your victory over the Helblitzer; a monster far out of your expected calibre. On behalf of the meastre and Galserta; we thank you for doing us proud. We ask, however. that any information regarding the events that transpired during the exam remain confidential; word seems to not have spread to the other Ventiers and we much prefer it this way.” So said Medioce Prince to the twelve honorary Level Heptastevens.

“Right, before we decide on a commander and a name for your Formation, let me clarify why we have selected the twelve of you to form this formation.

“As I am sure you all know by now, the formation of a sword usually consists of no less than three rows in combat. Your formation will consist of four. Your hind row, known as Hilt, will consist of range-combat extraordinaire, Ripple; with the Medicinal abilities of Halori and the shielding protection and deflective abilities of Quezen. It is the purpose of the hilt to ensure that their formation is guarded, protected, and always healed. It is also the purpose of the rest of the formation to protect the Hilt at all times; as when your medics and security falls, trouble is sure to ensue.”

Halori, Ripple and Que nodded – exchanging looks with smiles on their face. Chrys noticed that Halori was shining brighter than usual.

“Row Three, called the Edge; the purpose of this row is to act as the shield and offence of Magick for your formation. Tomo, Whisp, Flint, your abilities, such as with Ripple's, are usually required from a distance. Tomo, your sword abilities are recommended to increase as you will also act as a close-combat guard for the magisters.”

Tomo blushed and nodded. Flint and Whisp high-fived.

“Row Two, called the Blade; will consist of Spiere, Nady and Lelie; the purpose of the Blade is to act as an offensive, yet long ranged attack force for your formation. Spiere, with your aerial lancerian abilities, you will be able to get around a battle-field easily; Nady, along your combat-skills with your extendible pole, you shall also act as a secondary Medic for your formation, with focus specifically on the first row. Lelie, with your chanade talents, you are expected to stay close to your formation at all costs and extend your battle strategy out from there.”

Spiere punched the air and smiled at Lelie; who returned it with a wide-eyed look; having never experienced the stamp of responsibility, of which scared her as much as it excited her. Nady however, stood straight and proud and nodded at the Medioce.

“That leaves the front-line, the Point. Chrys, Borrin and Mogadi, you will act as all-round saboteurs and offence for your formation. The purpose to protect the formation at all costs as you forge through whichever means necessary, and yet again, it goes hand in hand with the rest of you. Each member of your formation is equally important. Remember to keep your host safe, protect each other in order to protect yourselves. Is all understood and are there any questions?”

Chrys looked around the room of excited Aventiers. All things considered, he measured himself lucky to have been paired with them. Mogadi winked at him and Borrin gave him quite a hard little pat on the back. He sighed. Nobody seemed to have any questions for the Medioce. His questions, however, were unprecedented for that specific time.

“Spectacular, I am pleased you all are happy,” said Medioce Prince, forging a smile. “Now, starting from left to right, who is your vote for Commander of your formation?”

Lelie was standing to the most left of the room; seeming mortified she gawked:

“Oh, um... Well, I nominate myself!” she said sheepishly. Next to Chrys, Ripple let a low chuckle under her breath. Whisp put his hand to his mouth.

Medioce Prince looked over to Spiere next to her. “Nady,” he said. “Nady,” said Borrin. “Mogadi thinks it should be Nady,” said Mogadi. Medioce Prince looked over to Chrys; he wishes she had not. He honestly did not know what to say; and quickly measured everybody in strength.

“Um... Mogadi,” he said. Mogadi gasped at this. Whisp next to Chrys nodded at this. “Mogadi,” he said. “Mogadi.” Flint agreed. Ripple seemed to have to think about it. “Nadanae” she said finally. Nady smiled when it was her turn. “Mogadi.”

“Mogadi is honoured,” said Mogadi. “But Mogadi does not think...”

“Let's finish the vote first, Mogadi,” Medioce Prince nodded at Tomo.

“Erm, Mogadi,” he said. Halori looked under pressure. “Nady,” she said eventually. It was up to Que to decide whether she was giving it to Mogadi, or her best friend Nady. She looked at both and pulled a face. “Apolothanks Mogadi, I'm voting for Nady,” she said sighing.

“Mogadi is happy with the outcome,” said Mogadi; she and Nady hugged on it.

“Then it's settled, Commander Nady Pharon and Captain Mogadi Mohlabeni,” said Medioce Prince. Mogadi gawked at her and the formation all applauded. Chrys sighed inwardly, scratching his hair.

“Right, now, have you guys decided on a name for your formation?”

They looked around to one another; Nady shrugged. Chrys wondered what ridiculous nouns they could come up with for themselves.

“Uh,” said Flintus. “How about the Galserta Lyons?”

Only Whisp seemed mildly impressed with this.

“The... um... Sword of Fiery!” he laughed; nobody joined in on him.

“The Flare-Warroyers,” said Lelie lowly.

However, everyone had heard her, and turned to her as they rung it in their minds. It seemingly bounced from each of them without any resistance. Spiere even nodded slightly rubbing his chin with two fingers.

“I like it,” said Medioce Prince. “'Royers'; an old Evlendish term for 'riders.”

Commander Nady looked to each of them to detect any resistance; Chrys was the only one who was looking away. It did ring acutely. It seemed to fit. Not in a silly way. But in the same way that Lelie seemed to fit. Oddly out of place yet somehow completely together.

“Flare-Warroyers it is,” said Nady proudly and the Flare-Warroyers applauded happily behind her.

Medioce Prince smiled. “Noted. You will receive your new uniforms before you depart. Your new Aventier identifications along with your timetables, and books will all be handed to you upon your return to Galserta. Your Aventier lessons will begin officially on the first day of the in the fourth dantian.”

“Return, Medioce Prince?” asked Que.

She nodded. “Indeed, in the morrow at morn the Flare-Warroyers are to embark on a journey to the Fredominion of Pheax. It is considered a team-building exercise and you will undergo community service orientated missions upon your visit there.”

“Wow!” gasped Lelie; excitement beyond her. Que looked over to Nady suspiciously. Nady was smiling; but even Chrys could notice her nervousness. Medioce Prince eyed her suspiciously and nodded at her seriously.

“Best you get ready to open your heart up to your comrades, your highness,” Medioce Prince smiled at her. Nady sighed and nodded.

“We'll be going by foot to my home Fredominion,” she said. “A mission sponsored by my father, Fredon Kaileo Halvidius Pharon.”

Lelie gasped. Que shook her head at the outrage. Whisp put his hand to his mouth again; Chrys sighed inwardly. Not sure he cared much for the developments; what role could it possibly play in his life.

“What are you saying, Nady?” Spiere asked with a raised eyebr ow.

“Are you saying that none of your friends knew, Nadanae?” Ripple asked suspiciously. “I recognized you the moment I heard your name.”

Que's suspicions were right. She felt embarrassed calling Nady her friend when she had so nonchalantly announced her secret in front of the others. She could have told her first.

“Huh?” Spiere said out loud.

Nady sighed and tried to smile at Spiere before she said. “I'm the Saraenne of Pheax.”