It is a tale of fathers and mothers. A tale of brothers and sisters. It is a tale of family and good friends one of this world would care to have, yet, the public would never acknowledge the delusion. A delusion to make merry. A delusion to live life and labour upon your field. A delusion to be wed to the wife of your youth. A direction to be guided by. O child, you young men, young in the heart, wonder away into the mist. Was it not stated?

See I men who wanted to be different. But in reality, they all wanted to be alike, feared by those serpent eyes of the mass that look upon them. They will mock you in the realm who believe in such delusion, slayed the fatten cow and throw the weak into their pit.

And in the latter ends of our lives as we die, weep at the life we lived. And no one in the flesh will hear us. No one will care about us. What were my purposes? Was there no meaning to our legacy but only as entertainment? Is this not vanity? And ever lastly, we pursue for it when no one are looking, to be in bliss in what we yearned but do say not. As dreams are told; so shall a parrot mock.

Aye, the hyenas laugh at you in hard times, deemed your challenge as an embarrassment without words. A dark age brought upon the very people themselves. An ill act one would denied to better the egos. All that matters in the end is good wisdom. Are you not the judge of your own self? Explore your own journey’s through.

So did the father not complaining once as he took up arms to defend his homeland. A hunter he is and a gainer of knowledge, a seeker of wisdom. He was strong and remain strong in the heart. Join he did with the free knights of Green. Freelance knights who holds no allegiance to no countries. The sons followed in their father's footstep and left the settlement to hear their call. A once warm home became quiet and shallow, churn a hymn of emptiness and sorrows. A grandmother weep for their safety. From the lifeless tepee into the cooled lonely afternoon, there they sat on the rock wall; a tale of two sisters.

“Nou, a shooting star. Are you going to make a wish? Legend says that if you do not make a wish within seven seconds, you'll be curse for one day of bad luck.”

“That’s nonsense, Manni. Shooting stars are actually an ill omen.” Nou laughed.

“It can't be! The human said that it always comes with good wishes. Even the kobold merchant agrees.”

“Silly cat, would you want a meteor to crush you from outer space? Thank the maker for this atmosphere or we would've die ages ago. But it is good to dream. Maybe that is why people use such omen as a way to lift their spirit. Tell you what, Manni. Forget what I had said this evening. Lets make a wish.”

From their break working on the field, Manni join in the play. The sisters waited till a light cross the late afternoon sky, in which another spark of beauty ignite. Indeed the seven seconds has been pass. Nou stare into the sky laying on a wooden deck. Closed her eyes she did and pray with the right hand, forth bring the index and middle to her gentle lips pertly. The muses sing. Wanting to be good in writing cursive is what the youngling had asked.

“That's a silly wish, Manni.” Nou couldn’t believe it. A waste.

“That isn’t silly. Fine, what about you? Remember, your wish does not include making your fiancé prettier.”

“Fine, fine . . . I wish to meet God. Maybe travel to see other galaxies. Change this dull life of mine and . . . make a little more money to support mother. How that sounded embarrassing saying it out loud!”

“You want to meet outer space aliens, Nou?! Is that even possible?”

“Of course not, you little cat! What I meant was our maker. Why would I go to that neon-heaven of Elysium of all places? I will not fit in. Now, the Maker's freedom is something else! It must be nice to be free. That kind of freedom we all long for. A realm that can never be touched by our very hands.”

“Hey, you're getting sentimental.” Manni was teasing the oldest sister. The happiness did not last. Cycles have passed and their lives had changed.

The two sisters came from the Northern Grassland. They are nomadic tribes of elian known as elvfyns. Poor race of amenans who are friends of kobolds and dwarfvens of Nolgen Allen. The elder sister, Nou, was captured and corrupted by an evil magician; who lust for the beauties of amenan, jailed the sister in the third lair of Ereshipath; feared and distorted the elvfyn lady by his dangerous black magic for countless decades, within the man-made abyss where time does not exist. Manni wanted to save her sister, learned the way of Good Summoning Rites from an ancient textbook left by their ancestors.

To conduct such rite, one must find the first plane of existence located within the eye of the hurricane where an ancient gateway sat in peace. It was foretold in a folklore poem passed down through generations within the kobold community. Lucky for her, a kobold merchant gladly shared their widely known poetry when she asked. A section of the poem reveal its location.

The little kobold priest walk around, in the grassland there he found.

An ancient gate cold as it can be, where white rocks mark the sign of purity.

Of tales he told to his kin, one warning to those who seek amen.

O thou fire will come about and in the cauldron they will shout.

Giants of red will come to eat and taste the flesh of human and beast.

When the land starts to whisper, follow the silver horn that goes to sleep.

From there, the water flows through the sand, into the hearth that will never end.

And formed the lair of ashen from within.

Seek not of fire, seek not of thieves, seek not of wisdom and surely you'll come to meet.

Sky will ring when mammals feed, a presence of promise will not deceive.

The old tales of good summoning will open again by the hands of kobolds and elvfyns.

Beware of misuse knowledge my newly friend, for certain, you will sin.

Ended from there . . .

Inside her little study room filled with organized books and old lace furnitures, Manni conclude the whereabouts of the summoning site. Silver horn represents the sea unicorns within many of their grandmothers' bed time stories. Sleep represented where these mythic creatures goes to die in their last cycle of living.

“That's it! Duh, The Ashen Tunnel.” Surprisingly she figures out.

“No child. You will not be going to that accursed place run by sellswords nowadays!” raised his voice, the chief who over heard from the kobold storyteller and merchants.

“Dear, please, lower your voice. You're making a scene here.” spoke the wife who came from behind.

“Honey pot, Manni will not be going to such dangerous place. I forbid her as the high chief of this tribe. She is all that her mother has after her father and brothers went to join the free knights of Green. Never more, I dare not lose my kin to that sick and vile magician! Who knows when he will show up again.”

“Chief Neshinarrou, please do not worry. I am going to summon our maker. If I can’t, prayers is all I have at the alter. He will help save my sister. It is my duty as the youngest sibling to help my brothers and big sister when wrongfully accuse or taken against their will. I will honor that elvfyn code!” She was playful and deceitful with that cute act of hers', pointing both index fingers around the cheeks making a cute smile.

“Don't be foolish! You are but a child-” Neshinarrou's wife laid her hand on her husband shoulder. The calming of the touch soothe his demented mind.

“Hoai! Elvfya, my sweetheart, I made a promise with her father to watch over . . .” The lovable wife gave Manni a reasonable answer.

“Manni, my dear. Think of how your mother will feel. After losing Nou, your mother has been so silent and sorrow blossoms through her hearth. If you are taken away, imagine how desperate your mother will try to take her own life. Even we elders and young ones tried to cheer her up but none of us could heal the damaged flower as of yet.”

“Yes, honey pot. You are correct. Give up this quest of yours, Manni. Let us adults take care of this matter.”

“I had waited two whole years but no one did search for my sister! What make sure that you will?! You're old.” Neshinarrou was mentally stabbed.

“Child, I'm old but that doesn't change the truth. You are not ready for the out-world. You are forty-five years of age; cannot even cook; cannot catch a prey; cannot grow a vegetable nor take a bath regularly when given the chance. You stay in your room acting cute, wanting to have powers of some sort, summoned small creatures and critters as a game, destroying the good nature of this gift from the most high. Never did you once bother to help your brothers clean your tepee before your sister was taken. Yet, your mother still loves you and wants you to grow into a fine young lady. You're the last of your house. Does that not scare you that you’re your mother's last child keeping her own heart amended?”

Manni was mentally stabbed, “B-but-”

“I am sorry little doe.” said the chief's wife.

“Jorgie!" Neshinarrou call out to an elvfyish knight. A recruit at most, new to the job. "Your first mission is to guard this little princess here. Make sure she does not leave the camp tonight. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!!” replied Jorgie, a fairly dark skin durkilfv who has a crush on Manni. A young elvfodite boy at the age of thirty-two, quirky in nature. He was about to confess his love coming from around the corner but was given a direct job.

The high chief denies her journey for he fear the evil magician may come after her. Not because of who she was before the chaos. As cunning as she is, snuck out during the night when lazy Jorgie was occupied in reading comics instead. She travels far, west of the Sebit Mountain back where the Ashen Tunnel is cloaked behind winter faebushes, and made her way through the hollow road. Manni was not alone. A season fairy was with her. She came prepared in offering little she have: a banana bread, two medium jars of pickled mustard greens and a pair of dirty shoes.

“I hope my summon would like it. Unbelievable! What am I thinking. I'm summoning God.”

But child, don't mince your words. Seneth is not God. He is a Creator, your maker.

Poor little Manni. The child desperate to save her sister in summoning the most high since her prayers have not been answer. Seneth was not aware of the situation. He was already betrayed by some of his beloved creations. His upper body is in the mythic realm, a world where magical beast and good entities rest. Not a place to summon their Lord. The little elvfyn girl did not know of this. Yet, out of shear luck, Seneth was in one.

“Neighh Manni, Should we turn back now? I am scare that we may be attack.”

“We come too far to stop now, Salamandor.”

The season fairy was drenched in cold aroma sweats, the sweetness of summer flowers. The scent attracted many fairy-tale insects and Salamandor did not like it one bit. It is understandable that the faery itself wanted to go back home.

“Neshinarrou is bound to find out about your argil spell and we would be in big trouble, humongous trouble you know.” talking like a five year old.

“He won't. His wife is tough on him. Besides, I made clayman cast a warp magic. The boss will never figure how long we've been gone. I think.”

“How's so?!”

A great feline beast of purple and black ran cross them and Manni thought it was a demon. It travels quick and light like it was running away from something. An elementary standard backpack of red was strapped alone the feline's back. The noise gave away of a single object the beast was carrying. Salamandor was startle and falsely muster courage. Unicorns of old slept on the sister steps of Eushural. The creatures of pure decayed into the roots of Eve. There were no odors nor the sight of the spawns of Beelzebub. And through the steps, the tunnel widen as large as half of a grand castle. Another tunnel from above lead somewhere where the air is stench of burned oil. The little girl did not back down from such ancient site, took the direct path with the coming sea breeze.

“I-it is just a mail courier, Salamandor. I think this road is safe.” Gulping the saliva.

Back at the settlement, in the earl morning, the chief was not surprise. Traces of time void linger in the atmosphere. A work of an amateur. Manni had already went on her journey. All personal possession that was left within the tepee of hers' was a broken-summoned clay figurine. It said, "See, I am an obedient little girl. He he." and it repeats itself when given a question. Jorgie was fast asleep later at the switch who knew of what had happen. Afraid of being scolded, he went to sleep to mediate the situation. A simple punishment awaits him.

“Hughhh . . . these children.” Neshinarrou look very displease. A mind grain at most.

“Ho ho hoi, you have your work cut out for you, Nei-hfinarrou. A high chief such as yourself lost to the most fimplistic battle. The battle of arguments with the younglings.”

“Oh, Gorzo, it's you. Tell me, what blessing will be bestow upon Manni? For her safety at least.”

An elderly kobold came from behind the rock hills. He was short and children mistake him for a pet. It did bother the elder but in a laughable way. A koboldian of great knowledge he was, reading the thoughts of the universe. Now a humble beastian living on the prairie.

“Fear not, Nei-hfi. I have a meffage for you from the three kingfmen. Unfortunately, I came a little too late. S-s-s-sfuch minor event will not change this courfe of fate. A prelude for the coming era. My presage had never fail me. The fummoning of the great will take plase. A good will from the ordain void place a trial for the one he pity, our maker.”

“Hmmmm, so she will make it alive.”

The chief pick up one of many books that Manni dropped. It was an ancient book she borrowed from The Holy Library-on-Wheels, The Old Tales of Alswragod. Children's laughter and cries can be heard from the back of tepees. The cold feeling of morning dew brought them happiness. Lifted their spirit it did as much as the scenery where they settle. A vast of grass hills and a lonely mountain ranges. The book, however, reminded Neshinarrou of important matters.

“The Babalonian Gate sleeps within the hurricane. I hope the child do not attempt to open the sealed ones. Yet, use its power not knowing the consequences.”

“Neither do I Nei-hfi, Neither do I.” Neshinarrou stare into the bright setting sky of majestic clouds and grand aurora of dragons and angels. Something made no sense he thought.

“Wait, . . . What do you mean a will from the void? Wouldn't that be our maker, himself?” A young chubby elvfyn lady handed the elders hot tea. Spoke softly she did. A respectable youngling and a caretaker of children of the grassland, “Care for more tea, high elders?”

“Ho ho hoi, beats me, Nei-hfi. I'm just a meffenger.” savoring his jasmine tea. It has the fragrance of flowers and honey.

Back at the Ashen Tunnel, Manni and Salamandor made it through and came upon the isle, amaze by the stunning atmosphere presented. There was running water coming from the right as she took a sip. It was indeed waters from the snowy mountain. Ah, crisp and refreshing and gather some for her travel. Down in the bottle it goes made of tree tiger's stomachs. But, it made no sense she thought. Purified water flowing from out of nowhere onto the isle itself, dripping to the linings of the upper wall?

“The law of gravity is weird here.” she assumed.

Down the shallow river, lead her to an open field, filled with large grass and scatter white stones of different sizes. In front of the spring, there was an old wooden fortress that seems abandon, standing mighty at the edge of the cliff where a rainbow come and go. It was a covenant of God in other worlds. In the dying world, it represented non-threatening-looking killers who mate with the same gender. Lets hope not. The sea in the eye was filled with whirlpools, and at the end was a mysterious unopened gate existed at the start of age. For this isle, it was more of an island. Spaces are warped from within the storm.

“Unbelievable! This is like a fantasy dream.” Manni happily shouted out.

Cloud whales and smoke narwhals came in and out of the storm wall feeding off misty fishes. 'Tis fins and bodies not of smoke. Mammals who glide with the wind. The cried of those animals can be heard for miles away. Manni was in awe of such grand view. A broken statue there she saw, pointing towards to what it looks like, a temple of truth. It was embedded in the arch hills. And above it, a citadel of those who worships light. But none of those historic landmark interest the young lady and search until she finds what she was looking for, the summoning site. The elvfyn head north of the island.

The wooden fortress ramble from the thick and slow yet fierce huffs. The closer you are in reach of the walls, the dangerous the area becomes. Such nature’s animosity does not frighten those mercenaries who slumbers within the fort, a highly estate of antiquity build from the bloods of Ole. A small country that had been washed away into heaven's acre.

Awaken, one from the cries of the mammals. It was their alarm clock but most of the members were still fast asleep from the hunt. Their leader was a rouge neck. His name is Peter and he is of the Altherri family line. Guilders they are. A total of thirty-three members. A club of low rank, wind sailing in the great wonders of the nine seas.

The young boy slept in a bad position engraved in tremendous back pain as he wash his face. Something caught his attention through the crooked window. It was a sprite and an elvfyn carrying bags loaded with tools of some sort.

Stolen story; please report.

“Bad news!”

Peter knew the young child was heading to Darrio's camp. Nothing of interest exist but for the temples, the far reaching Babalonian Gate and the Galaytea ruins. Young knight Peter stuck himself out of the view and yell as loud as he can. There were no response from the little girl. Ah, the current of air was strong and buffer those who are close to the inner wall. Voices cannot penetrate it so easily. A group of mercenary known as the Bandit Kings made the valley and temple as their hideout. They even pay homage to the twelve lords who dwell in cycles.

Indeed they are bandits as their name suggest. Doing mercenary jobs are also on the line of works. Respectable bandits they are in the eyes of crooked cops but as of late they are well known in slave trading, selling off the poor and lost ones in the name of Goldiluck pirates. Capturing a young elvfyn pitches for a high price; cost as much as a Phoeni, bird angels of Bryce. Peter grab his equipment and went to wake the other guilders in a distant room.

“Zena! Callecken!! Wake up! Go ready the sky ship!”

Peter put his armor on. The sibling's ears were cover in fluffy lamb muffs and hardly no sound disturbed them. The fortress was old and wobbly, rumbling like a train ran by. Sand and dust from the upper room fell onto the brother's cheek. Oohh, it was itchy but barely woke him.

“Three more minutes . . .” Scratching hiself as he shiver from the cold.

Callecken was too tired and tries to ignore Peter. But the situation was dire and he kick him off his hammock, straining his own back in return. Zena woke up from her brother's fall.

“Hgmm, give us a break will ya, Peter. You did no work since yesterday butchering prickly boars. You're pathetic, making the crew did all the dirty work.”

“No time to argue, Zena! A little girl is heading to Darrio's hideout! Today is the day the tunnel close up by the way. I do not fancy waiting another three months.”

“W-ehwhat, already?!”

Zena took a look outside the lushes garden patio of moon flowers and midnight gazes and saw a fleck of the child from the distant. Peter had already left to the sky bridge.

“Not good, get your lazy bum up, Callecken!!” as she came back into their cloth-cover room to get her weapons and gears. Her brother was hopeless. He was in his moment of brushing his teeth while sleeping on the itchy floor. A residual dupe. Zena proceeded to the ship hidden below the cliff.

Meanwhile, Manni arrived at the passage. It was a deep valley filled with roots and high trees and the scent of apples within the summer heat as cicadas sing. There was a broken road made of apophyllite and fell woods laid along the path. Rotted they were. Vast golems made of clay and mossy stones seep between the tunnels of trees. Unused railroads too, cover in moss, hidden in the surrounding. A dull-down telephone booth was also in play. Nothing made any sense but was a sight to see! In the open light, there she rest, drinking cold honey tea in the humid heat. The darkest shadows were super freezing and Manni wasn't chicane.

Peter and the gang lost track of her and stop half way to travel on their little human feet. A poorly damaged ship, their engine was old and noisy. Such racket and smoke will give away their presence to the Bandit Kings' scouts. Peter was sure of his plan but I doubt. Flying bravery in the late morning was a dumb idea. Couldn't expect much for an open field. The quickest way to hide was behind the steep and arch hills. Salamandor went ahead to check the route and came back with astounding news as he shout.

“Manni Manni, there I saw, two roads that branched endlessly to the mouth of the squid beast Kassidy. There is a hidden trail to the east, intentionally cover in debris. Mister chestnut told me so-and-so. The rightful path to meet the last golem who goes by the name of Limeslow. And from there, it will lead us to our goal.”

“Thanks Salamandor. Your ability to understand nuts and fruits always amazes me. Lets be on our way.” Salamandor sure was happy.

Manni and the summer sprite went immediately. They pass through the valley of trees, met Limeslow who is no other than a golem archway and climb the magnificent thirty-seven steps. At last, she arrives at the Altar of Prayers.

A warm angelic light left the round altar in an instant. Its shine was not vigorous. Manni got a glance of it only at the end. Knew nothing of what it was but in awe in the aftermath that lid up the open room. Ancient indeed. Tales of the isle inscribed within the inner floors and sea breeze glitter away as it touches the inner pillars. Manni ran to the center of the altar wasting no time. There were no marking or spellbound symbols. A light hole from above the roof shined on such rare gem laying at the center of the altar. It was like someone put it there recently but there were no evidence of footprints other than hers' on the dusty floor. Rare in value, yes, but was left alone. Not even stolen by the notorious guild.

There was a pair of seagull-like creatures perched on a unique zelkova tree staring at Manni. She assume it was the birds' doing. Salamandor pull out the tributes and lay it beside the sacred jewel. The gem is made of an odd substance not of their world. It glazed and shine lightly of space from sunlight. Without natural light, it is no different than rocks found on the hidden isle. Such curious hand she had, tapping the object only to find what it really was. It spark a bit. The stone was a link, a channel that connects the plane of existence to the mystic cosmos. It was unheard of even within their own tribe.

Salamandor exhausted his strength. Told Manni of the news and the child let the poor sprite go to sleep. The season faery warp back into the fairy realm. Manni unloaded the rest of her bags and sit down to begin the summoning process not knowing some bad man sleeping close by.

The mammals of the sky cried once more chasing misty fishes. Self proclaimed King of Bandits, Darrio the Fourth was walking by the hall from his early routine. Footprints he notice as well as the smell of perfume. Vaguely sweet in nature around the thirty-seven steps and assume it was Lagia, a beastwalker, and went to confront the intruder. Manni started praying, asked for the Lord's assistant. The seagull-like creatures became the chains of light and flew into the alternate dimension; gently, the creature grab Seneth from behind and woke him. He did not know what to do, two birds pulling his abdomen and below out of the mystic realm. Seneth thought he would've die from being split. At that moment, he remember. He is still a Creator; regained his old physical being from in the voice manifesting in the astral form. But when he is of flesh in the mortal world, he is of man again. What celestial strength Nuj gained in the void will only damage his body, kith and newly kins.

“What do we have here? A lost little elvfyn. And I assume it was that damn female dog, Lagia, sneaking around.”

Darrio grab Manni by the mouth and restrain her from her prayer. Her hands stretched out to grab the gem stone in fear that the bandit may attempt to steal. However, shinny pebbles did not fascinate Darrio. The summoning was halted. Seneth did not know what was going on. Two birds just sitting on his chest looking at him as he slowly drifted down the astro plane.

“Borgius! Guntred! You stupid mooncalfs!!” Darrio yelled. Stand he in front of those brute guards sleeping in trenches made by ancient fell dragons and harp angels who dwell in Askal. A comforting place for a marauding band of their caliber. The crumbling route lead to the king's main hideout from below.

“You dare to be asleep at the job and letting a kid walk into our territory. You boys are lucky it wasn't little miss Lagia or your neck would've been hang!” The laud king was furious.

“Bossss, there's nothing to watch for.”

“Shut your trap and wake up!”

He kick them out of their dormant state. Manni tries to break free but was overwhelm by the strength of the six-footed adult. Dario the Fourth’s guild are loud and filled with profanity. They only care to rake in large sum of coins they desire. Make many excuses of having rowdy little ones to keep their job. Half are on the list and Darrio made them as his pawns. Expendable they were and still is to do his betting. The end of day was nigh and he needed funds to repair his ships that was previously destroyed by sea unicorns. The bandits rise from the conceal trenches of their comrades moan. There were a total of thirteen mercenaries. Thugs is of a more legitimate term.

A presentation into the Altar of Prayers.

“Chelseo, come out from hiding.” said Darrio.

“You call chief bandit?” An ominous outspoken lady appears from Darrio's secondary shadow. A seductive lady of the Shadowmancer class-type.

“Take the child to the cell and treat her fairly.” Darrio hand over Manni to the women. She swell in love of Manni’s cuteness, massages her shoulders and said, “Gladly, it will be done.”

Manni was afraid and about to let tears loose. She had no idea how to respond saying random words while being seduced. Her voice was chop in fear. It was this elvfyn’s first time meeting such baddies. None of the gang did pay attention to her pleading. More busy with their day-to-day business.

Ghesly, an arm of the king, came in to give his report, "Sir, section five scouts have apprehended majority of the Gray Fox guild. Unfortunately, their leader was not among them." Ghesly's unit threw down Callecken, Zena and other members of their merry troupe and stripped them off of all their known weapons.

“I knew it. I knew it! That boy is always troublesome. He made me his dog shield and scoop away.”

“Hush, Callecken! Shut that nonsense of yours.” Zena quietly tried to stop her brother from yapping.

One of Darrio's generals came up front and slap the head of the loud mouth. The poor brother slam into a pit of broken tiles. Callecken scream like a little girl. It was a plague for Zena to admit they were related by blood if not for the differences of hair colors. Zena, a Brigadier Samurainian class-type, started to make a deal with the laud king but lead to his privacy as he walk away from the summoning site.

“Peter knows what you’re searching for, Darrio. The Bateau Ami. The fable boat that takes the rider to Uhriendorl.” (Oo-Wri-En-Door-L) Darrio clenched his fist. Zena tries to buy time for Peter's late counterattack. Yet, there were no signs of the boy.

“Um sis, you're just making the king madder. We already broken the truce.” said Callecken.

“Who told the boy?” Darrio turn hiself around to look Zena in the eye. A sullen voice at most.

“To find one, you must join with the men of bohemian karst. For they will not likely hand the boat over. What you seek is beyond our measure as mercenaries. Surely those cultist who live in the karst spring of Jura mountain will use you in all matters of means just to fulfill their desires. Darrio, can't you see, you are putting your crew at risk. You’re the bait for their unconventional ritua-”

“Don't tell me I know not of those damn eydols, woman!!” yelled Darrio, "I had face them alone and taste the devilish of defeat. I had sacrificed my family to know the weakness of those damn elites. I've met the demon that linger at the foot of that mountain and face it. What I seek is nowhere to be found but in the hands of that damned religion! Yet, you dare to stop me . . . when all I can do is play by their heinous ploy?!” The king walk up to Zena's face. He cling on his chest as if a demon semi-biting the heart. Baby slap her three times, “’Tis not wise to attack when the world is against thee.” And spit away his anger to the side. Her teammates jump forward in defense but was hold back by Darrio's guilders.

“That's contradicting. But, it is wise to protect when the world is upon you.” answered Zena.

“Phsk, sounded like my sons. Mellork! Take command.”

“Sir!” replied Mellork, a general of the king.

Mellork commanded the rest of the their guilders to lock Peter's entourage with the elvfyn child. So much for treating the amenan fairly. The troupe was brought to one of their hidden vessel camouflage above the altar. It was an extra stationary supply ship. A boogie ship that came out from hiding. Manni continues to pray with open eyes of her wish and recite their ancestral texts. The child was doubtful of both groups not knowing that they too may want the little pebble and spoke in the shadow language.

This linguistic form makes no noise, can only be heard by those who had near death experience, elderly that pass on in life in the moment and by elemental sprites. Oh child, you could say this unique form of art is like talking with the mind but with the inner soul that is detached from the brain instead. Off they go into the sky cell. Manni sat in the corner of the jail structure afraid of Callecken and his friends. It was her first time encountering human baddies and especially, mercenaries. Zena and her brother did not want to scare the little girl and will try to communicate with her after processing their situation.

“These are adamantite metals. It will not break so easily, gang. All we could do is wait for Peter. Knowing him, he will likely strike from the east once Weskter and Jarvob finish the job.” said Mace but was interrupted by Zena.

“East? Which way is it?” her disguised black compass went haywire, spinning back and forth. It was useless within the hidden isle. This unusual hurricane, the magnetic field is never stable, constantly changing.

“About two klicks along the steep hills pass the Grassen Prairie. Genbei and I label the open field as the east view. It seems Peter is playing safe for now.” replied Mace.

“Well, I don't blame him for his weak tactics. He is a kid after all.”

“You are kid as well, Callecken. It was you who got us caught over your naming banging, action posing, yelling, super hero attacks.” Yasami blurted out and Callecken lost all hope. Manni notice the young lady approaching her and hid the stone behind her lower back. Zena introduces herself. The child did not respond to her instead gave an impression as Zena was the weird one.

“My name is Zena, ZENA. You are safe with us. We will help bring you back to your family . . . Jeez, maybe the girl doesn't understand our formal languages.” She continues on with other informed subjects.

“Try speaking elvfyish, sis. It's bound to work.” said Callecken. The female knight unleash her broken elvfyish speech. How it sound like a four-year old and Manni spoke up a little.

“I am not stupid, eald ronin. Your language is easy to learn.”

Mutter from the shame that she should've pay more attention in class. Manni was actually taking her time to reading their auras. Yes, she can read their life force a bit even though the little lady is not gifted in magic. The elvfyn look into their souls to see who are not tainted with the Yoma heart. Enough to know who are evil through the power of Want. Enough to feel those who made a deal or deals with the devils.

“Can you promise me this?” asked Manni. And for a while from her lost of shameful thoughts, Zena answered.

“Yes, we promise. Right gang?” The rest of her comrades agree.

“Please don't steal this stone. I need it to save my beloved sister.” and she show the precious pebble.

“Wait a minute. Is that an Askal stone? So, the legends were true. A huge battle did happen on this very ancient holy ground.” Mace was into history. And with the proof of the stone, got him way too animated. Manni retracted the medium closer to her breast.

“S-sorry, I won't steal your stone, kid. The pebble is useless to us since we aren't pure of heart nor very young children. Man, though its worth a fortune in the aristocracy black markets. To think one is active on these arc lands. Strange.”

This pretentious king went to check his flock of airships resting in a hidden sky harbor away from the altar. Zena and the guilders group up and bang their heads together. It was their way of forming a plan. Not the most effective way but had always save their guild from the mist of death, venturing the great wonders of the nine seas. Manni pay no attention and continues to finish her prayer, holding the stone in her right hand away from conceiving eyes. They conjure up a mediocre plan. Callecken did not like to wait. There were no guards presence and he assume it was an easy escape. Off he fires his sonic gun as he mimic his fist into a weapon, stood in his glorious long horse stance; baby, thumb and index open up as the sounds of shattering space crack through his left hand.

“Ultimate Tri-Finger No-More-Body Mega Sonic Boom Destruction Annihilator!!” My goodness, he shouted.

Callecken indeed loves to name his special moves regardless of what the guild said. Screaming out a set of words manifest more force into his power. The guild hardly name their moves nor bawl out sentences and phrases. It is tiring and consume too much mental birr.

Sounds and reality shattered like mirror but did not break the cold hard adamantite metal. The Bandit Kings heave no attention as it sounded like the everyday storm. The boom trembles the cell and damaged electrical furnishings. The vibration shook Manni as she lost her grip of the Askal stone, and down it fell out of the cell. Desperately, Manni try to grab the white pebble but slip through her sweaty fingers.

“You monkey balls! Weren't you listening!” Yasami slap the side of Callecken's head.

The mysterious gem jounce down the steep hill. A monstrous flash of light lit and the egg of space split. Seneth appear in the welkin and down he came between the whirl stratus clouds. The rock itself, burst out aloud as it read her vow. The sounds and pressure of roaring thunder lions, crackling from afar, stopped Darrio from attending his ships. It was more mysterious than the cries of the storm.

The smaller mammals flicker away back into the cloud walls. Seneth flew off course falling as the eyes of man speculate and landed near the forsaken Babalonian Gate. The two serenaded chains dissipate and the overbearing weight release the strength of its bond. A mysterious vibration swept throughout the isle only to be notice by insects, plentiful flowers and their awn. And the two birds flew away into the heaven.

“Don't tell me . . . Where's my vintage radio!!” said the upset Darrio. The group was startle just to find a communicator. He knew though never did anticipate the creature that was summoned.

“What in Yorentonatsu is going on?” shouted Zena. Mace pointed toward a rare event that happen on the isle. The wind current was too much for his eyes.

“God is a Hobo?” said Manni, pertaining to how he dressed. The rush of gale put them off balance.

Mellork's unit was coughing from nature's breath. The hurricane bulge from left to right picking up speed as it slowly close. Greater danger awaits them from the sea below. God forfend, Seneth would perish. A mortal he is again. Who summon him, they know not. Mellork unsheathe his kyen sword from the great dusty wind, spin it from great length, oh it click and hammer the tip to silent them.

“Immense current. The grasses wasn't even disturbed by the streams? For what not?” Mellork demanded that his unit end their blabber and pull out his hand to control the southern henchmen. The mouths of mercenaries ceased from their mocking laughs.

Nuj was occupied with a visit from the sandman, mister numbness and misses sleepy leg. Within the cold gate he notice aurants eating way his misery from his dirty toes to his knees. The man lost his balance from stepping on the strange decoded hill. Seneth was not aware he was summoned. His ears were more affected by the summoning sickness and got up to look at the unmovable barrier. It seems such grand view hold his balance in his state. Manni had summoned a Creator. For summons, they are powerful entities as their world saw fit.

“Message from boss, general.” said the radio unit. Mellork was handed the phone then suddenly, “Mellork! Take him out now!! Don't wait until the sickness wears off!!” Darrio shouted through a silver ball.

“Understood.”

Below the arch hill, the swordsman and other fleeting pirates rush to silence Seneth. A light lit the corner of his left eye; a long sword, glimmering from the nine rays of light. Could this be his demise? Fate has slow down. The world has submerge underwater. The intent to kill was heartless and was it all in the mind.