“I’m not quite as young as I used to be. Do try and go easy on me.” Phineas pulled out two pale white shortswords. He spun them in his hands, trying to remember their weight. It had certainly been some time since they were last needed. Lors pressed the ring on his finger again.

“I apologize for the formalities, but unfortunately I have to make that recording for paperworks sake. Now then. Shall we?”

“I’d rather do this elsewhere. No need to ruin my garden. And don’t worry about the rift. I’m not insane. I know what happened the last time one of yours left an unpatched Rift alone. Aren’t they still rebuilding that keep?”

Lors grimaced. “Now that is a story I’m surprised you know about. However, it does tell me quite a bit about you. I never expected to meet a survivor of the Purge.”

“Life certainly has its ways of surprising us.”

A short walk took the two men to a clearing near the Keld. Lors took up position with his back to the now setting sun. Phineas looked at the man and smiled before taking up his position opposite the Inquisitor. Phineas rested with most of his weight on his front foot, holding the two short swords loosely. The right hand was positioned close to his chest, the other by his waist. He smiled softly.

“You seem like a respectable sort of person. Did you ever think to look into why the Firstborn Clans attacked the High Priest? Or were you content with ignorance? Genocide is much easier to deal with when you can put the blame on someone more powerful.”

Lors’ face remained neutral. He raised his own greatsword to just above and to the right of his head. “It was not genocide. It was a war.”

The Inquisitor lunged forwards, sweeping his greatsword down in a large arc. Phineas guided it to the side with the flat of his blade, flicking the other forward and scoring a shallow cut on Lors’ arm. Lors pushed forwards, leveraging the incredible momentum his weapon provided to slam it back down onto Phineas’ hastily crossed swords. The weight nearly knocked him to his knees.

“Of course it was, anything to help keep the guilt off of your conscience.” Phineas said.

Lors growled and brought his sword around in a heavy sweep towards Phineas’ chest. The older man stepped forwards, striking with the hilt of his sword towards Lors’ exposed top hand. If he was in his prime, the attack would have been perfect. Lors pulled his hand back, his sword melting as he condensed it into a round shield with a large spike at the front. The hilt of Phineas’ sword slammed into the shield, rotating Lors’ wrist, but it was unable to stop the man from punching forward. Phineas tried to step back, but he could already tell his movements were too sluggish. He could feel the disconnect between what his mind wanted and the speed his body could move. It was a shame really. He’d been looking forwards to seeing how the kids would grow.

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The metal spike punched through his shirt then his flesh, snapping one of his ribs as it sheathed itself in his heart. The resulting destruction was incredible to witness. Mana is stored in a users heart. And should the vessel be broken, all of the stored mana would erupt from the point of the rupture. Wild magic ripped itself out of Phineas’ heart, burning apart his chest and spraying out in every direction. Lors was thrown backwards as bolts of lightning arced across the clearing. Newly born spring flowers were frozen over before being burnt to a crisp in the following waves of flame.

Lors sat up slowly, his clothes crackling as sheets of ice and charred cloth disintegrated. His ears were ringing and he could taste blood at the back of his throat. It took a moment for his body to start sending signals back to him. His right hand was definitely shattered along with the rest of that arm. It had taken the brunt of the impact and was screaming in protest. His chest ached, probably one or two broken ribs. He struggled to stand. Bloodiron braces began to form on his legs as a cane sprung out of his left hand.

Phineas’ body stood where he had been stabbed. His chest was a mess of exposed bone and charred flesh and he was missing his left arm. His eye sockets were empty, burned away by the raw mana seeking an escape from his body. The only thing keeping him standing were the sheets of ice that stretched across his legs locking them in place. His mouth was stretched open in a soundless scream.

Lors turned his head away and spat on the ground, trying to remove some of the coppery taste in his mouth. And he was pretty sure he saw a tooth fly out as well.

“Damned man. He was a mage? That had to be decades of mana buildup though. How did he manage to train in the sword as well?”

Further complaints died on Lors’ lips as he realized he could see his shadow. Pointing towards where the sun was setting. His head whipped around immediately. On the charred remains of Phineas’ right arm was a simple wooden bracelet that was starting to blind him. The outward flow of the surrounding mana quieted. Then it began to reverse. All around him Lors could feel wild mana rushing back towards Phineas’ body. No, not his body. The bracelet.

With a sharp pop the illusion surrounding the bracelet shattered. The now golden band was covered in runes and small carvings. Embedded in it were nine bright white gems, and as Lors stared in shock one of the last three unblemished gems cracked. The steady rush of mana became a tidal wave. And the bracelet guided it all. It started in the area immediately touching it. Newborn skin burst from charred flesh, stretching down towards the hand. Long tendrils of mana infused muscle began to wrap their way up the forearm before attaching to the shoulder. From there it branched outwards, engulfing the head and draping itself down across exposed ribs and the spine.

The growing flesh tore away at everything still attached to bone. Charred skin and cloth alike were tossed aside as new growth was stitched to the pale white bones beneath. And for just a moment Lors saw a heart form in the ribcage. And he saw it begin to beat. A long tendril of muscle shot out from where Phineas’ left arm used to be. It hunted through the grass before pulling the dislodged arm back into the socket with a sickening slorp before pushing across the rest of the bone to wind itself around the hand. The skin grew back overtop, sealing up the vital organs and musculature.

A much younger man stood in place of Phineas.

“- no idea if this will even work!” The man shouted. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut. The sunlight was much too bright for them, seeing as they were brand new. The man cracked his neck and squinted at his surroundings before his eyes widened in shock. He stared at Lors for a moment before he spoke.

“Where am I?”