The floating orb was hardly a sphere at all. It was more like an eye. Dozens of wings, all unpaired, unfolded, revealing the strange monster underneath.

It's Iris was green, and so were the swirling streams of magic peeling off of it. Its pupil was a pale while but had a starkly black arrow-like symbol pointing up in the center.

It had been focused on Elliot, but the instant Flyte shuffled about, its gaze shifted to him instead.

"Be wary of this thing," Nefti whispered; the eye turned to him slowly. "This thing is a scion of Rave, who follows Rush."

'If you hear or Rush, make sure you hush.' Flyte leaned in and saw that the eye was cloudy, with long, streaked scars across its entirety. 'This thing is bling. It's tracking our position by sound.'

Flyte could only try to guess how an eye could hear, but that wasn't really the important thing here.

He waved his glowing mask around to gather his companions' attentions. As they looked to him, he pressed his finger to his lips.

Ander and Lebrandt nodded.

Flyte scanned his surroundings for a safe way out, until his eyes fell on a sloped decline. Flyte turned his head, making certain that the scion wasn't tracking their movements.

It wasn't. The group was very careful not to make a sound, especially Elliot with his metal armor, as the rest of the army beelined around the monster while they stayed out of its hearing's range.

They were nearly through it. The next was step was only a few steps away from Flyte.

*Clang*

Elliot had accidently kicked his greaves together in his attempts to avoid kicking up sand.

Flyte looked over to him, his eyes wide. The dry air suddenly got cold and Flyte could feel its chill through his cloak. He turned toward the scion and saw increasingly thickening green mist surrounding its pupil as the temperature continued to drop and the sky darkened further.

The silence was broken by a sharp crack as a green beam absolutely obliterated the very place Elliot had stood moments before.

But Flyte, as he looked around, could see Hieday striding across the air with Elliot tucked under her arm.

The scion kept turning, tracking Hieday's movements despite her significant altitude.

'Shades!' "Everyone, run!" Flyte yelled.

It was a scramble, with the sky growing ever darker as the group ran. The eye twirled through the air, spinning until it ended up being in front of Flyte.

The young honorsoul firmed up his resolve, not letting fear crawl into his voice as he said "Nelar" triumphantly.

The world lost color as the pained scion inhaled for its own strength. The only left by the end was Flyte's mask, which he put on quickly.

And with no sunlight, Flyte was the only one to see the shadowy hands circling about, controlled by the scion. Still, he only got a glimpse of them, but it was enough to warrant speeding up.

"Elgro."

"Sari!"

"Sari!"

"Sari!"

Despite his devastating speed, Flyte could hardly keep up with the ghastly hands. His blade flashed from hand to hand, barely swatting them away, but never cutting them.

They began to get to Flyte. First, it was his off-hand's wrist that they grasped. Then, his ankles.

After that, they started to squeeze. They wrenched and pulled, their strength easily enough to break normal bones. It was only Flyte's body enhancements that prevented the instant crippling of his joints.

"Hurry, Flyte," a voice said. "Your friends are in danger. Summon my might. My sword."

'That voice?' Flyte knew that voice, he'd heard himself speak it when he learned how to use light spears. "Dad?"

"The one and only," Ithilles said. "Now, get a move on. I don't have much time."

"Okay," Flyte said. "What do I do?" The squeezing got worse by the instant, like the scion knew what was happening, which it very well might have.

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"Say 'Nelar' with a fiery voice, then, follow my movements."

An extremely bright light spirit broke the hands' holds on Flyte and fought off the scion's darkness with his sheer luminance.

"Nelar," Flyte said, his voice like a flame, full of vigor and warm. It certainly was much easier to change the tone of his voice when his emotions had parallels to it.

A huge greatsword mage of light formed in Flyte's hand. In contrast to the icy shortsword Flyte was used to, this sword radiated heat, though they were both much lighter than they looked like they would be.

Flyte traced his sword along paths that his father's spirit flew in, allowing his to cut through hands that he hadn't even seen as he got closer and closer to his allies. the blade spun around beautifully, caring away monstrosities on all sides in a brilliant dance.

Flyte managed to make it to Ander just as the scion's darkness disappeared completely.

"Flyte," Ithilles hummed, strained. "I'm sorry to say it, but I'm running out of power here. I'll have to return to the third plane, and I'm not sure when I'll get to see you again. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I have been watching over you for a very long time now, and I'm very proud of the man you've become."

"I'm so sorry that I have to go so soon, my son, but I'll wait patiently for our next meeting," Ithilles faded away.

"I love you too, dad," Flyte said quietly.

"What was that?" Ander asked.

"My dad" Flyte answered.

"Oh!" Ander exclaimed. "You found him?"

"We don't really have time to talk about it now," Flyte cut down a few more hands, having gotten more used to the overly large blade. "But yeah, kind of."

"Well," Ander began. "Good for you. Now, do you have a plan?"

Flyte thought for just a moment. "Yes."

Flyte crouched down and drew out the shape for a spirit summoning rune. "Ander, I'm going to need you to make something solid in this shape for me. I'll fuel it, but I just can't work with all of this sand."

"I believe," Flyte continued. "That Lebrandt, Nefti, Hieday, and I can take on this eye, but you're needed with the army. If you and Elliot can make it down to them, we might be able to salvage this battle."

"If you say so," Ander said, though he was visibly against the idea. "I don't like the prospect of leaving you with all of this," he motioned around to the hands flying around, being warded off by the group. "Still, I trust you, and you think you can handle it, I'll let you."

Ander formed the summoning rune of stone. "Here you are. Be careful."

"Will do," Flyte said. "You stay safe too."

Ander nodded, then ran off toward his army, motioning for Elliot to join him.

Flyte shot the hands pursuing them out of the sky, and when they were gone, he focused on the rune, breathing life into the chunk of stone.

Spirits burst from it, their numbers seeming endless.

They shot off toward the scion, colliding with huge overall impacts. Wings fell off and tore under their brutal onslaught, and the eye's ghostish hands were being shredded quickly, but it all grew back just as speedily. Still, it kept the eye at a standstill.

Until the spirits stopped pursuing.

The scion was surrounded by a hazy blue mist, and the spirits that had been hostile a moment before stayed still, watching the monster with silent enrapture.

Flyte felt his own attention being pulled toward the blind scion. Now that he had a moment to look at it, he could see its wings start to reknit themselves, though they struggled to provide more lift than the eye minimally required, which it managed to supplement with magic.

'Why can't I move?'

Flyte felt snakelike coils loop around his hands and ankles before pulling him down onto his knees. In his peripheral vision, Flyte could see Nefti and Hieday carving through ghost hands, trying to reach him. It seemed that the scion had found a way to lock down space to the extent that Hieday's gates could no longer function.

The scion pulled in more light and heat, preparing itself for another attack. Its pupil shone a sickly green, and Flyte couldn't help but close his eye.

There was an explosion, but no beam hit the young half elf.

Flyte opened his eyes to see Lebrandt standing in front of him, a shattered hardlight barrier between him and the eye.

'Wait, shattered?'

Then Flyte saw. It was probably obvious before, but his eyes must have glanced over it.

A gaping hole in his uncle's chest.

Lebrandt fell to the side, his huge wound not even bleeding, as the scion's attack had instantly cauterized it.

"No," Flyte's stomach twisted, and his throat felt sickly. "No, no, no, no, no."

Flyte wriggled out of the bonds holding him, the immobilizing spell having worn off, and stared at Lebrandt.

"Elgro," he cried out desperately.

The spell had no effect.

"What?" Flyte asked no one in particular. "Elgro!" Again, there was nothing. "Elgro!"

"Glow!"

She didn't even respond. The eye's lock likely closed the third plane off from Flyte too.

"Come on," he muttered. "What is going on."

'What have I done.'

Lebrandt, not quite dead, silently attempted to speak to Flyte. Seeing that his lungs were too damaged to do that, he just smiled at the boy. It wasn't a happy smile, it was more pitiful, like at a goodbye.

He reached up to hold his son's chin but lost his spark just before he could.

'That's right. I am still his son, even if not by birth. Did I really forget that?'

Flyte grabbed his uncle and hugged him in close, cradling the dead man. Nefti and Hieday looked on, unsure on what to do.

'Could it work? could "Nelar" do anything?'

Flyte choked out the word, his voice tainted with the utmost sorrow.

The spirits around him were made humanoid, some mix of mortal and postmortal. If demons given their own bodies were demonborn, then these would be spiritborn.

But, looking around, Flyte could tell that none were Lebrandt.

"Oh," Flyte groaned, his voice hoarse; his face covered in tears. "Why did I drag you into this?"

The spiritborn tore Rush's scion apart, piece by piece, even as it healed. The eye, a master of magics Flyte could never know, slowly died, finally pierced by a strange, long spear before crumbling into dust, falling onto the ashen sands, indistinguishable from it.

But Flyte didn't care. It couldn't help him here.

"I hope you know, Lebrandt," The words fell from Flyte's lips, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. "I never really hated you. Not truly. I was angry, maybe even a little rebellious, but never hateful. You were always there for me, apparently even more than I noticed. I just wish I could have been there for you more."

Flyte tilted his head back and cried aloud, his wailings audible to all those around.

A few minutes later, Nefti picked up the weeping boy, wrapping him in his arms while Hieday gently grabbed Lebrandt's corpse.

And they marched on.