A drakyk paladin, drakyk spellshot, a teenage techromancer, a fairy chemist, a young fairy rookie colossus slayer, and an unorthodox human knight face off against the Archbishop of the Holy Church of the Spoken realm, district of Almunaicho city.
Only one at his best is a true match for the Archbishop; the human knight and monster slayer known as Murtoa of Lakia. However, the ominous magical power that was surrounding the Archbishop moments ago seems to have faded, and together, the three experienced warriors stand a fair chance, with the three less-experienced combatants providing what support they can. Between the three of them, Coco, Maerin, and Lykha are quite crafty, meaning Murtoa doesn’t have to give them much thought.
Phudre may have lost his helmet in the first bout with Murtoa, but he’s still a grave threat to all of them. Especially if Eandenui, the female drakyk paladin who served Phudre until very recently, betrays them.
He can’t focus on that now, though. She healed the girl, and tried to stop the Archbishop from commencing the attack. That will have to do.
Gyrryth, on the other hand, is not a melee combatant, and he expended his ranged spells in combat against the maigon -the pseudo-dragon formed by parasitic magical union between the girl and the maigon itself-. And, in his attempts to hold off Phudre’s warriors, he took many wounding hits that are severely limiting his strength and mobility.
But now, Phudre is out of magic, putting him back on the physical combat plane of the others.
Gyrryth asks quietly, “How do we proceed, Sir Murtoa?”
“Avoid dying. We’re out of our element.”
The lizardman nods, “Understood.”
Eandenui paces cautiously with her own shield forward, circling to the side. Gyrryth stalks the opposite direction. Phudre is visibly intimidated, but not of them. His gaze is on the young fairy Lykha.
Murtoa sees it flash across his expression, though, and he tries to call out, “Wait!”
Too late. Eandenui lunges towards him, but Phudre parries her sword with his shield, spearing his secondary sword forward. Eandenui is able to avoid the hit, unable to bring her shield up quickly enough.
Gyrryth, keying off of Eandenui’s attack, also tries to rush in, but the Archbishop paladin spins his shield arm. Instead of simply deflecting the attack, though, he jumps out of the way, and Gyrryth stumbles forward, and the hammer he’s using finds Eandenui’s shoulder.
Phudre pivots to swing his sword down brutally towards the drakyk spellshot’s back, protected by little more than his leather duster.
Murtoa throws himself onto Gyrryth’s back, blocking the sword-strike with the shaft of the scythe. Thankfully, his magical power has, in fact, faded, or the blade would likely have reached Gyrryth’s flesh regardless.
The human knight rolls across Gyrryth’s back, deflecting Phudre’s sword. He whirls skillfully, swinging the scythe over Gyrryth and Eandenui before they can fully stand back up, and Phudre blocks the blade with his shield.
Murtoa, however, is apparently a master of all tools of war. His movements rarely, if ever, hesitate, and he spins into another swing on the other side, mindful of the arc of his blade as he puts pressure on the Archbishop paladin. The scythe affords Murtoa a long reach with a heavy and deadly blade, and the arcs of his swings keep Phudre close into himself with his sword and shield, lest Murtoa find an opening.
Murtoa uses both ends of the scythe; the heavy blade and the hand guard on the end of the shaft. He only has to wound Phudre’s head, and the fight turns very quickly.
Murtoa, improvisational soldier that he is, plants the scythe head to the ground, effectively pole-vaulting towards Phudre. This sudden change catches Phudre mostly by surprise, and he stumbles as a kick finds his face. He was able to block some of Murtoa’s momentum by catching one of his boots with his shield, but the kick is still enough to hurt.
Murtoa springs off of Phudre’s shield, spinning as soon as his feet touch the ground, and he sweeps the scythe’s blade low, slamming Phudre’s ankle.
Though his armor protects his foot and ankle, Phudre is knocked onto his back. The monster-slayer recovers his full footing, and he steps swiftly towards Phudre’s sword-arm.
The Archbishop swings his sword, driving Murtoa back long enough for the paladin to recover his secondary sword. He blocks an attack from Eandenui, swiping at Gyrryth as the latter tries to bring his hammer down on his head. Both attacks miss, and the Archbishop kicks his former subordinate back. This gives him the space to roll backwards to his feet, rising into a defensive stance. Gyrryth and Eandenui are readying to attack again, but a young voice calls out, “GYRRYTH!”
The drakyk spellshot glances, suddenly diving away.
Phudre barely sees it in time, and he braces with everything he can muster as a thunderous boom shakes the desert. A cannon ball slams his mighty shield, and his boots slide in the slowly-drying sand. An explosion of smoke and sand clouds the air, and Eandenui stumbles back, lightly impacted by the pressure wave and the shrapnel.
Coco cheers from the paladin’s own sand cruiser, “Yeah! Hahaha! Round block o’ steel stainin’ ya goobery all ‘cross the ‘rizon!” She gasps playfully, “I’m jus’ like ‘Bando, now, aye?”
Lykha orders sternly, “Reload now!”
Coco argues, “Did ye’ peepers stop peepin, Bae!? Goob zealtor nuttin’ but pas’e!”
Murtoa, however, must not be convinced, as he is the only one who doesn’t hesitate, and in fact, charges into the cloud. Metal shrieks on metal as coughing emanates from the cloud. A moment later, the monster-slayer is thrown to the ground outside of the clearing cloud, and he tumbles backwards to avoid a sword strike that slams the sand.
Lykha scolds, “‘Paste’ my floating butt! Reload!”
Coco hesitates only one more moment, and she opens the cannon’s breach, coughing briefly on the residual smoke. She turns to the cannon-ball magazine, wrapping her arms around the steel ball.
Lykha urges, “Come on! Hurry!”
Coco shouts, “‘S blasta weighs more’an ME!”
Both girls yelp and duck when the sword flies past them, and Lykha asks as they hide in the turret, “You can’t lift it!?”
Coco whines, “I’m no’ actually like ‘Bando! There! Happy!?”
“NO!”
Metal clunking thuds on the sand cruiser, and they peek over the turret edge. Both gasp at what they find.
Once more, Gyrryth and Eandenui have been slammed into each other, and Murtoa is running to the grapnel glaive, grabbing it like a spear. However, he hesitates.
Phudre’s location is on the sand-cruiser, climbing up its cab skillfully to bear down on the young women. Murtoa can’t risk throwing the glaive like a spear because of the Archbishop’s close proximity to the two.
Lykha and Coco shrink together into the turret, screaming as the paladin rears his sword back.
Suddenly, a small blade swings over Phudre’s shoulder, swooping down across his chest and under his shield arm. With a twitch of the wire cable, the blade twists around the cable, locking in, and Phudre is pulled back, barely maintaining his balance on his lofty perch.
Maerin appears from below, hiccuping briefly as she drifts drunkenly through the air. She fearlessly -or mindlessly- flies upwards as Phudre tries to get leverage against Murtoa and his kusari-gama. The drunken fairy hiccups again, holding up a small bottle just as Phudre notices her.
Maerin casually throws the bottle, and it smashes against his face. The mixture immediately begins to fizz, and Phudre cries out, wincing in pain. He is promptly pulled off the sand cruiser by Murtoa, and he tumbles back down to the sand. Maerin says as she floats unevenly, as if Phudre is still right in front of her, “Dodge that, ya goob! Ha!” She suddenly falls, and Coco reacts just in time to catch her. The inebriated fairy grumbles, “Who turned up the gravity?”
Lykha asks coldly, “Why are you drunk during a fight?”
Maerin glares at the younger fairy, blinking unevenly. “Who are you? My spirit guide?”
Coco peeks over the turret, cutting them off, “Lookee!”
On the ground, Murtoa is hanging from Phudre’s back, and the Paladin is dedicating his entire strength to trying to keep the wire off of his neck, limited by the large shield on his other hand. The Archbishop attempts to hit Murtoa with the shield, but Murtoa is hanging low, trying to bounce his weight to choke the paladin.
Phudre tries to slam his back and Murtoa against the hood of the sand cruiser, and he is able to dislodge Murtoa’s legs enough that he seizes the moment. Phudre throws himself forward in a shoulder roll, managing to tumble free of Murtoa. He yanks the kusari-gama from Murtoa’s hands, spinning in a powerful hit with his shield, knocking Murtoa down. The unorthodox knight doesn’t move for a moment.
Gyrryth roars, charging in. Eandenui also closes the distance, but Phudre manages to block Gyrryth’s hit with his shield, and he kicks the spellshot back. His sword is out of reach, but Phudre skillfully holds off the drakyk paladin with his shield and gauntlet alone. He manages to grip her shield, pulling her forcefully into a punch in the helmet. In the moment of daze, he swoops his hand around, snatching her sword from her as he shoves her back to prime striking distance. He pivots around, swinging the sword with vicious precision, and Eandenui cries out as blood sprays from her upper shoulder on her shield arm between the plates. He steps and swings again, and she manages to block, but he kicks her down, panting.
In the cruiser’s turret, Maerin murmurs, “Mury go’n’ deep fry you… you… butt. Click-clack.” The drunken fairy makes a strange gesture with her hands, and Coco and Lykha stare at her a moment.
It hits the teen first.
“MURY! CLICK-CLACK!”
Phudre glances over his shoulder. The warrior is still on the ground, even though the young girl Coco is calling out to him. The Archbishop scolds Eandenui, “You chose the wrong side, Eandenui. You as well, Gyrryth. The Holy Church is righteousness. It is purity. It is order.”
Just as he’s about to swing at Eandenui, a shadow falls on his shoulder, and the weight of a person. Murtoa, having lost most of his physical strength to exhaustion and pain, is supporting his own weight on the Archbishop. But, he’s also got his forearm parallel to the paladin’s face. He strikes his own forearm bracer with a piece of flint, and sparks spray the Archbishop’s face.
And then, the fires of hell ignite. Archbishop Phudre screams as he stumbles back, dropping Eandenui’s sword. Murtoa stumbles over it as he pursues the Archbishop, who screams as he tries to pat the flames out with his free hand. "YOU DISHONORABLE WRETCH!"
The former artilleryman coughs, grunting, "I didn't knight myself."
Murtoa scoops up the knife part of the kusari-gama, and he limps closer to Phudre. The monster-slayer coughs again, growling, “Gaze upon the face of God….” He coughs once more, spitting out liquid. Blood drips from the bottom of his helmet. But, he jams the blade into the Archbishop’s neck, finishing as the paladin tenses up, “And, tell him I’ll see him soon.” Murtoa makes several small motions to maximize damage, and he withdraws the blade, dropping Phudre to the sand. The Archbishop gags briefly, but loses strength quickly as his own blood pours out around him.
Murtoa stumbles back a couple steps, coughing. He asks almost under his shoulder as he strains to look at Eandenui without losing his balance trying to turn all the way around, “And, you?”
Eandenui looks down, murmuring, “It had to be done… What occurred… He cost so many innocent lives… not to mention the snail.”
Murtoa coughs, roughly replying, “It’ll live. A snail that size is extremely difficult to kill. It won’t resume motion for a few days, but I doubt it’s actually dead.” He coughs hoarsely, and Coco carries Maerin as she and Lykha race down the sand cruiser's side, calling, "MURY!"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The warrior looks, and Coco stumbles to her feet, cheering warmly, “You’ the best, ‘Bando!”
He nods, and he notices Tomoba approaching. He asks, “Who are you?”
The teen says, “‘Bando! Tha’s the jingle-tossa. Premience Tomoba.”
Tomoba murmurs softly as he looks around, “I… I can’t believe it… You… You saved her… from all of them…”
Murtoa replies, “We’re lucky the maigon wasn’t bound to her. Are you okay?” His question is directed at the young girl, even as blood flows out of his own body.
The young woman nods, “Thank you.”
“Good. The paladin will escort you back. Paladin, we’ll be heading east. You’ll find the sand cruiser we’re borrowing easy enough.”
Lykha hovers in front of Murtoa’s face, asking skeptically, “Are you sure we can trust her, Mury? She is one of them.”
“You want to kill her?”
“Wh-... Well…”
Murtoa replies calmly as he limps to the cruiser, leaning on it while he strips his forearm armor off. He begins bandaging himself, and Coco jogs to him, gently urging, “Le’ me…” She takes the fabric roll from him and wraps his arm gently. He adds, “We can’t protect them indefinitely. And, if she agreed with the Archbishop, she wouldn’t have spent all of her magic healing the girl.”
Lykha crosses her arms, replying, “Fair point.”
Eandenui urges gently, “I will see them safely back to their home. And, I’ll see your name remains clear, Sir Murtoa.”
Murtoa replies, “Doesn’t matter. We won’t be around to see it. Gyrryth, you okay?”
The spellshot, wearily gathering his weapons, replies, “Better off than you, I suspect, Sir Murtoa. I shall recover.”
Murtoa nods. “Good. Go ahead. I prefer you didn’t see our departure direction.”
Eandenui urges, “I shall not betray you!”
Murtoa nods. “That’s fine. But, you won’t have to lie, either.”
She hesitates. He adds, “You’ll probably want to retrieve help if you want to bury them.”
The drakyk paladin sighs. She nods softly. “I’m truly sorry this happened.”
The human warrior nods, “Me too.”
The two groups prepare to go their separate ways, with Eandenui and Gyrryth sharing a short farewell, and Maribel asking Murtoa, “Will we ever see you again, Sir Murtoa?”
He shakes his head. “Not likely, but anything’s possible.”
She smiles softly, “Thank you for saving me…”
He replies, “You’re welcome.”
Tomoba approaches as well, offering a pouch jingling with coins. “I’m sorry it came to all of this. Please accept your pay.”
Murtoa grunts, “I didn’t accept the job.” He nods towards Maerin, Lykha, and Coco, and Coco walks up to the prince, snatching the purse. “Sorry, but I’m no’ ‘Bando. I’m gettin’ me jingles this tock.” She adds more sweetly, “Glad you’re both safe, though! Take care!”
Maerin says in her inebriated state from Coco’s gear bag, “Murmur, I’ll shave a couple *hic!* couple coins off yer debt for yer ‘sisstance.”
Murtoa scoffs and nods.
The three from the city board one of the cruisers, riding towards the column of smoke representing the damaged city of Almunaicho. Just as Murtoa turns towards the cruiser, Lykha suddenly hugs his helmet, “Oh my god! Mury! You’re so amazing! And you saved all of us! I love you so much!”
He doesn’t respond right away, and she flirtatiously touches his visor, adding, “I owe you everything, Mury… My life, my body… my wish…” She asks softly and tenderly, “What can I do to repay you?”
Maerin and Coco stare at her in shock, and Gyrryth watches quietly, slightly surprised as well.
Murtoa, however, states bluntly, “That’s enough.” He adds as he untangles the kusari-gama from Phudre’s body, “I played along because your power was extremely helpful, and I know why you did what you did. But, you will be giving Lykha her body back.”
This shocks all three of the others even more, and even Gyrryth cocks his head. It’s understandable to believe that Lykha had some kind of breakdown or mental fracture after the traumatic experience of encountering what she genuinely believed was a true dragon -which, the others are unsure if there is even a difference-. Maerin was admittedly suspicious, but let her mind wander when she drank to relax herself.
The fairy is also caught off-guard, and she ponders something -perhaps continuing the ruse-. However, she can tell from Murtoa’s posture that he isn’t guessing. He’s completely certain.
She slumps, “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”
Mury nods. “Lykha wouldn’t have rested until she knew what happened to the dragon for sure. It would have been the only thing on her mind.”
The fairy pouts, “She is fond of you, you know. I can feel it in her heart, and she’s stupidly easy to read.”
“Lykha’s feelings are hers to express. No one else’s.” The warrior sets Nieolsynnys down, adding, “I have to answer to her about this, and I will. But, because you helped us, I’ll grant you, Nieolsynnys, one wish that is within my power to grant and is within your right to ask.” The void spirit possessing Lykha’s body tenses. She wanted to get Mury to accept her, because she could stay in Lykha’s body if he expressed true emotions for her, or used the fairy’s wish while she occupied the body. And, she knows what line he just drew.
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Yeah? Then, how about you free all of us. That’s my wish.”
Murtoa replies, “I cannot grant that as a wish. Make another.”
She glares at him briefly, but she knew already that he likely doesn’t even know where to begin. So, instead, she replies, “Okay… Then, can I have one more sunrise? Please? I won’t betray you. I don’t think her little body will let me.” She touches her chest gingerly where her heart is. “I’ll even apologize to the little fairy. But, I haven’t seen a sunrise in so long…”
Murtoa nods. “Agreed.”
Coco and Maerin whine, “You can’t do that!” Coco adds, “Wha’ ya s’pose’d ta do if she rib-ticks ya!?”
Murtoa replies calmly, “She won’t. The trade was made to protect me. If Nieolsynnys betrays that contract before she can permanently possess Lykha’s body, the trade is voided.” He looks at Nieolsynnys and says gently, “I need only say the word.”
She nods, adding quietly, “We’ve heard your name many times. You’re not like any other person I know of.” She looks sincerely at Coco and Maerin and bows, “I am sorry I tricked you and Lykha. Truly. But… It’s been so long…”
Gyrryth murmurs softly, “So, you are the void spirit, Nieolsynnys, then?”
She nods.
Maerin accuses more gently, but still a little bitterly, “So, it was you that took down that paladin. Not Murmur.”
Nieolsynnys doesn’t reply, but Mury does, “That was another giveaway. I intended to wound him, but I didn’t expect to kill him at that range. Not a paladin.”
Nieolsynnys murmurs, “He didn’t feel pain… If that means anything.”
Mury states, “It’s fine. When the sun is fully risen this coming morning, you will return Lykha’s body to her.”
The spirit looks at the human warrior, speaking gently and timidly, “I… have a request. I’m grateful for you granting my wish, so I have no right to ask. If you could… speak to Lykha… My sisters…”
“I will ask. But, I will advise her to protect herself if she agrees.”
Nieolsynnys’s eyes water, and she flies up to his helmet level, hugging the damaged armor as she whimpers, “Thank you, Mury… You don’t know how much something so small means…”
“Yes... I do.”
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Lykha pleads, “Please! I didn’t know! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here! Let me go!” She cries as she begs, trapped in a magical circle.
Why does this seem to be my lot in life? Everywhere I go, I feel like I end up getting trapped.
Of course, the spirits around her have very little sympathy for her. She understands, but it’s not fair. It’s her body, and she was tricked into letting Nieolsynnys, the void spirit, take it from her.
“Please, let me go! I just wanted to go home! That’s it! It was never supposed to go this way!”
The spirits were teasing her the entire time, and ultimately, they were ignoring what each other were saying. However, the five spirits still present in whatever dark place they’re in suddenly stop teasing Lykha. The young fairy is still crying, so she doesn’t notice right away.
A distant voice is saying something, and Merzianne, the spirit of water, snaps her fingers over her shoulder. A flash of energy takes off into the dark distance.
Her focus never leaves the magical window through Lykha’s eyes, showing what Nieolsynnys is seeing now.
Rui-Buri, the spirit of fire, floats close to Lykha as if she’s ‘lying’ on her stomach. The spirit looks at the fairy, remarking, “She hasn’t paid any attention.” She snickers again, and Lykha looks around.
The other spirits look at her for only a moment, but return their focus to the window. Merzianne states, “He knew the whole time.”
Gruicelle, the spirit of light magic, giggles sweetly. “He must love the little cutie.”
Lykha yelps, “What are you talking about!?”
Rui-Buri says boisterously, “Uh oh. Someone’s paying attention now.”
“Tell me! Please!” Lykha looks, and Nieolsynnys is dancing around under the stars as the night is creeping by. Coco is changing bandages on Murtoa nearby, and Nieolsynnys fidgets with Lykha’s hands. A soft voice comes from that direction, “Gruicelle, you there?”
The gentle and sweet-seeming spirit perks up, cooing, “Ooo! I’m up!” She sends a waver of energy, and Nieolsynnys waves her hands towards both Murtoa and Gyrryth. They’re surprised at first, but the injuries on both heal almost instantly.
Lykha’s eyes water. She can barely heal a scratch.
The young fairy whimpers, “Why… Why do I have to watch this?”
Ulterryn shakes her head with an introverted expression. She murmurs, “Doesn’t even know…”
Rui-Buri says more gently from beside Lykha, “If you’d paid attention, little fairy, you’d know…”
“Know what!?” whimpers Lykha.
Gruicelle says tenderly, “Mury is letting Nieolsynnys see the sunrise. That’s why she’s so happy.”
“Wh-What?”
Rui-Buri pets the young fairy’s cheek, “You’re worrying over nothing. Nieolsynnys agreed to give your body back after.”
Lykha whimpers, “But… that’s not… It’s not her body to decide that…”
“Yes, well… That will be between you and her, I guess.”
Lykha whimpers, watching.
The time passes slowly for Lykha, though Nieolsynnys doesn’t seem to rest. She seems set on using Lykha’s body to its limits -assuming she told the truth-.
However, as the glow forms on the horizon, the fairy’s body stops in the middle of pestering Murtoa as he sharpens the kusari-gama’s blade. It takes a few minutes, but all of the spirits watch through the eyes that belong to Lykha as the glow brightens and slowly crests the distant horizon over the desert. An orange orb rises into the glow, and the eyes suddenly become blurry and wavering.
Nieolsynnys sinks to the ground, and then falls onto Lykha’s knees, watching the sun.
“I-... I can feel it… th-the warmth… th-the sun…” Nieolsynnys sniffles, whimpering, “It’s… beautiful…”
A sniffle closer to Lykha draws her attention. Rui-Buri wipes her eyes, sassily asking the young fairy, “Wh-What are you looking at?”
Lykha looks to the other side, and Merzianne and Gruicelle are holding their chests over their hearts, entranced by the vision. Ulterryn sketches the sunlight on the invisible ‘floor’/’ground’ of the dark space they’re in. It’s not leaving any marks, but maybe it’s helping her remember it.
Schieranna, who has been mostly quiet, asks softly, “Why…?”
Lykha looks at her, and the spirit looks away from her.
The young fairy looks back to the magic window when Nieolsynnys says to Mury, “Thank you so much, Sir Mury…” She sniffles. “Thank you.” She touches Lykha’s forehead to Mury’s helmet.
Murtoa replies quietly, “Thank you for your help.”
She nods. “I guess this is goodbye. H-Hopefully…”
“Up to her.”
“I know…” She takes a deep breath. “Goodbye, Sir Mury. Coco, Maerin… Sir Gyrryth.”
Gyrryth waves his hand dismissively, “I am no knight. But, farewell, Great Void Spirit Nieolsynnys.”
Coco scolds, “I’ be ‘spectin’ good lookin’ for ye nex’ go, so no rib-tickin’ Tricksie again!”
The void spirit scoffs. “I won’t. I promise.”
Maerin states a little coldly, “If you really want to make it up to her, you should teach her some spells.”
Nieolsynnys nods. “Goodbye. Thank you all…”
Suddenly, the void spirit appears in the circle with Lykha, and the young fairy stands up quickly. “G-Gimme my body!”
In a surprising move, Nieolsynnys sinks to her own knees in the void realm. She says desperately and softly to the young fairy, “I’m so sorry, Lykha… Truly, I am. I was desperate… And, I thought… but it wasn’t right… I thought I could, but I can’t. S-So, I beg of you, please forgive me. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll teach you a spell only we know.”
This surprises the other spirits, and Lykha as well. The fairy asks a little skeptically, “Which spell?” She quickly adds nervously, “I-I don’t want th-that death spell.”
Nieolsynnys replies, “I imagined not. If you’re willing, I can teach you a spell to make your larger friends weightless.”
Gruicelle coos, “Ooo, that’s a good idea!”
Merzianne nods in agreement. “She’d be able to save them herself, then.”
Schieranna adds a little bitterly, “If she conserves her magic.”
Lykha thinks about it momentarily. She nods gently, “I accept. Thank you.”
Nieolsynnys looks up at the fairy, and Lykha asks, “First, can you tell me where we are?”
Nieolsynnys shakes her head, “I can only tell you that it’s a prison. We don’t know where it resides.”
“To… use your magic…”
The spirits all nod together.
Lykha murmurs, “I’m sorry… I… wasn’t really… sensitive to that…”
Nieolsynnys says softly, “It’s not my place to ask, but it’s not Mury’s responsibility… What I just witnessed… if… if you would, Lykha… my sisters…”
Lykha’s eyes widen. She’s not a complete fool. After everything she just saw, she knows what Nieolsynnys wants. And, the other spirits are listening intently. She knows now that she missed conversations. She can hear Coco and Maerin asking Lykha why she’s not snapping out of it, and asking Mury if they can even trust the change.
Lykha asks softly, “Am I able to talk to you?”
Nieolsynnys nods. “For you, I’ll always listen…”
The young fairy sighs, nervously hugging herself. “I-... You’ve helped me and my friends, s-so I don’t hate you… But, I need time… B-But… I think… I’m willing to figure it out.”
Nieolsynnys chokes out, “Thank you… Truly, Lykha. Thank you.”
Lykha smiles softly and nods. Nieolsynnys puts her hands on Lykha’s cheeks, which is what she felt before she found herself in the spirit prison.
The first thing she sees when the spell clears is Coco urging Murtoa to do something.
And, her gaze is locked on the spider-cracked visor of his damaged helmet.
A rush of feelings wells in the tiny fairy.
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