image [https://i.imgur.com/WxgkjSv.png]
Deep within the secluded woods, an unknown caravan crept along a hidden path, its progress deliberate and unhurried. Dark-robed figures, their attire emblazoned with the sigil of the demon cult, surrounded the caravan, guiding its passage with a sense of purpose. Beneath the concealing shroud of black blankets lay the mysterious cargo, its nature concealed from prying eyes.
The skies above cleared, and the sun had set on them. The authoritative figure cultist who escorted the caravan forward, looked through the canopy of the large trees surrounding them to the skies above. He caught a glimpse of something moving quickly through the skies. This creature was the same spirit hawk Yarine had summoned, transporting her letter to Emperor Lucious.
Yet from that distance, it was hard to tell what it was. Seeing that the creature did not interrupt them, the leader of this small caravan pressed on. A subordinate rode forth, approaching him. The two rode side by side, as the lesser ranked cultist asked him. "Are you sure we are heading the right direction sir?"
The lead cultist took out a map from within his dark robes, as his eyes set on its contents. All he knew was that they were to travel to Octavia with the supplies. "These damned woods seem to change every time I figure out a way..." The leader replied, frustration evident in his voice. "We're going to take a break here." He spoke loudly as he brought the caravan to a halt.
Tossing the scrolled up map to his subordinate, he instructed, "You have look at this damn map. Maybe you can figure something."
With the caravan stopped, the other cultists stood watch surrounding them. There was always a chance that they might've been attacked by either rabid animals or humans.
The leader of the group made way to the central wagon. The central wagon was much larger than the others, and the main supplies were carried within it. Not all wagons had the same supplies, but the supplies carried in the central wagon was of utmost importance.
His eyes kept betraying his intentions. he wanted to see the contents of the boxes but dared not do so.
"Damn it why did we have to get this idiotic task. Lady Morgana clearly underestimates how powerful I can be! They all underestimate me! I'll show them who's the real deal. all those who sneered at me."
With his fist raised, and his declaration to himself over with, a silence hung over him, as a sense of disappointment washed over him. Doubt crept on his mind as he reconsidered his actions. Would he ever rise through the ranks? Would he ever get the recognition he deserved? The wealth and power he craved? All these emotions swirled, as a toxin mixing into a drink.
before long, the same cultist that he had handed the map to approached him. "Sir! I figured a way out of these woods!"
The leader's eyes widened as he heard this, and as he turned to face him, he felt an intense light shining down on them from above. By the time he looked up, everything had already ended.
Anauel descended with the righteous fury of the heavens with incredible momentum onto the two demon cultists. the impact from his landing sent shockwaves of holy energies around. His wings widened, letting all the demon cultists embrace his glory. The two cultists were trampled beneath his mighty angelic boots. the blood from their bodies spewed over the ground.
Anauel then swiftly charged forth at the remaining cultists. He strode with elegance as he cut down the demon cultist ranks with his mighty lance which emanated a holy glow with each life it claimed. The heads of the cultists were pierced through and with a twisting motion of the lance, severed from their bodies as if being harvested. Anauel showed no mercy and struck down every last one of them without remorse.
And there was no fighting back, though the demon cultists tried. Their weapons were meaningless in this fight, their weapons shattered upon impact with Anauel's armor or weapon. all resistance was futile.
With all the demon cultists dealt with, all of which suffered an agonizing death, Anauel looked through the contents of the wagons. He was merely passing the skies above when he overheard them. And a good thing he did, he thought, for if he hadn't something sinister would've transpired.
As he looked through the wagons one by one, Anauel found a large supply of weapons carried in each, before arriving to the central. There was something odd with the supplies of the central wagon. He felt a sense of foreboding just looking at the supplies. These crates were incredibly well reinforced, setting them apart from the rest.
Anauel, using his mighty lance, tore through the top of the crate, revealing the contents within.
What he found within were Chemicals. A vast number of green colored chemicals that were securely placed inside the crate. each of these chemicals were labeled the same yet the inscriptions on it were of demon text, something he couldn't read. Whatever these chemicals were, they were not good that was for certain. He pulled out a vial from the container as he examined it.
The chemical had a necromantic green glow to it, yet it was hard to tell its effects. He decided to put the chemical to the test. He looked around to find a body which hadn't taken too much of a beating. Finding such body, he stood above the corpse with the vial held in between his fingertips. He tilted the vial allowing the chemical to spill onto the corpse.
The body was certainly lifeless but that did not stop muscles from contortions. The hamstrings stretched and pulled as if in agony, as the body writhed in seeming pain. The chemical ate through the flesh and made its way into the veins. From the veins the chemical rooted throughout the body, with the skin surface blood veins hinting a green like color. Before long the veins popped, and the greenish blood spilled onto the forest ground.
The body decomposed at an incredible pace. It emanated a warmth yet created no fire. The blood that had spilled from the vein popping had turned the grass black. Withering it away to ash.
The temperature of the corpse reached its peak, and a flame erupted from within the body. Green flames that defied logic, burst forth from the chest and legs. The body deflated, as if it were made of gas. Anauel watched in horror, as the deflation took process. What on earth was this? He had never seen such abhorrence.
By its end, all that was left was a wide black patch of grass with small chunks of organs that did not burn away from the reaction. "All that... from a single drop..." Anauel muttered, his eyes widened in shock as he registered what had happened.
Anauel's wings unfurled with a powerful sweep, propelling him into the air with a grace that belied his thoughts. Anauel frantically spoke to himself in disbelief. "If this gets out... Octavia... no... the entire continent will fall. I must stop this before it's too late... by the heavens."
image [https://i.imgur.com/QC2G41D.png]
In the opulent Throne Room of Octavia's Royal Palace, Grismala, regally adorned in a resplendent red gown embroidered with gold and diamonds, sat upon a throne adorned with intricate carvings and draped in rich velvet. The room was bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting shimmering light across the marble floors and ornate tapestries that adorned the walls.
Anauel, the mighty archangel of the heavens, stood before her, his majestic wings tucked neatly behind him, the very air around him seeming to shimmer with divine power. His eyes, a piercing blue, were fixed upon Grismala, as he spoke with a voice that resonated with authority and grace.
"Where is King Julius?" Anauel questioned, his gaze sweeping the grandeur of the room.
"He is away for the time being. I fill in his absence. Speak, if you will," Grismala replied, her voice carrying the weight of command.
"Absent? Where has he gone to?" Anauel inquired, his eyes lingering on the empty throne.
"That is a private matter," Grismala replied, her tone firm and unwavering.
As the acting ruler of Octavia, Grismala oversaw the kingdom's affairs with a meticulous eye, her attention to detail mirrored in the grandeur of her surroundings. She had grown accustomed to the luxuries of Octavia, from its finest jewels to its most exquisite fabrics, and her regal presence commanded respect from all who entered her presence.
"I see..." Anauel murmured, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Then I shall convey my message to you, if you will permit."
"I'm all ears," Grismala replied, her demeanor regal yet tinged with a hint of sarcasm, betraying her lack of interest in Anauel's message.
"On my way to Octavia, I came across a caravan carrying supplies marked by the demon cult," Anauel explained, his voice tinged with concern.
Grismala's interest was piqued. "Morgana... What does she hope to do now?"
"She has obtained a certain chemical," Anauel revealed, his voice betraying a hint of unease.
"I see. Then it is dangerous enough to warrant a warning, is that it?" Grismala questioned, her mind already calculating the potential threats. "Say, why were you headed here to begin with?"
Anauel's eyes widened in realization. "You knew of this... didn't you."
"I didn't know, but considering it's Morgana, I always assume the worst," Grismala replied calmly, reaching for her glass of wine placed on the throne's armrest as she took a sip. "You have yet to respond to my question."
Anauel chuckled softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Then let the witch queen know of everything that transpires here."
Grismala placed her wine glass down with a deliberate motion, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't take kindly to insults, treacherous angel. To come before me and blame me for my actions when you are no better is hypocritical."
Anauel's expression hardened, his gaze meeting hers with a steely resolve. "Fine, we may both be traitors, yet what I did was to save the life of a brother, not to satiate my own ambitions. Do not dare drag my name into the mud!" His voice carried a note of fury as he pointed his lance at Grismala.
Rising from her throne, Grismala faced Anauel with an equal measure of defiance. "You dare point Raguil's lance at me? Is this a challenge?"
Anauel did not lower his lance, his stance firm and unwavering as he stood before her.
"Fine. I've always wondered how powerful the protectors of the heavens truly are," she exclaimed, a fierce determination shining in her eyes as she prepared herself for whatever confrontation lay ahead.
Raguil's lance crackled with an otherworldly power, its aura shimmering with raw, celestial energy. Grismala knew she had no way to counter it directly. Still, she couldn't afford to back down, not against Anauel. Accepting his challenge was her only option, a chance to prove her strength and competence to all who doubted her.
As the two faced off, Grismala's mind raced. Anauel was known for his mastery of magic, a formidable opponent unlike any she had faced in ages. Her only hope lay in keeping her distance, wearing him down with her own potent magic.
With narrowed eyes, Grismala braced herself. Anauel lunged forward, his lance slicing through the air to find its mark. Grismala dodged the first strike by a hair's breadth, the lance whistling past her ear. Anticipating his next move, she cast a short-distance teleportation spell, vanishing from his sight and reappearing a safe distance away.
Seizing the opportunity, Grismala unleashed a barrage of condensed magical projectiles, aiming to overwhelm Anauel with sheer force. The projectiles struck true, but to her dismay, Anauel barely flinched. His resilience was a testament to his power, even as the weakest of the archangels.
Realizing that direct confrontation would lead to certain defeat, Grismala enacted the Body of the Elven Queen. In a flash of light, she transformed, her form growing larger and more majestic. A pair of ethereal wings sprouted from her back, and she wielded a staff that bloomed like a rose in her hand.
Anauel renewed his assault, his lance a blur of motion. This time, Grismala stood her ground, using her rose staff to block the attacks while retaliating with precise, calculated strikes. The tip of the rose struck Anauel's head with a resounding thud, momentarily staggering him.
Enraged, Anauel pressed his attack, his lance even faster than before. Grismala took to the air, her wings beating with a graceful yet powerful rhythm. She evaded each strike with graceful precision, retaliating from above with a relentless barrage of magical energies.
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Realizing he couldn't reach Grismala directly, Anauel changed tactics. With a swift strike to the floor, he destabilized the structural foundation of the building. The room shook, and Grismala, enraged, yelled, "Are you out of your mind!? You'll collapse this whole building, you fool!"
Anauel, finally understanding the consequences of his actions, halted his assault, preventing the collapse of the building. Grismala descended to the ground, her eyes locked on Anauel.
"Next time we fight, you better be prepared," Anauel warned, pointing his lance at her.
"Next time, don't challenge me in a place like this," Grismala retorted. "Now leave!"
With a disdainful "hmph," Anauel turned and made his exit, his departure more imposing than his arrival. As he ascended into the sky, he couldn't help but acknowledge Grismala's strength. "She's stronger than she shows. I commend her for that, at the very least."
Grismala's magic, which had enhanced her body, was nearly depleted. She reverted to her original form, having expended most of her magic to protect the staff from breaking. As she watched Anauel depart, a sense of urgency filled her. She needed to act swiftly upon the message he had brought.
image [https://i.imgur.com/SXHe3wd.png]
In the royal capital of Octavia, Samille and her elite task force received a summons to Grismala's heavily guarded estate. The manor, fortified and patrolled, stood as a stark reminder of the kingdom's heightened state of alert.
As Samille, Mila, and Yarine ascended the grand staircase to Grismala's office, they couldn't help but marvel at the opulence that surrounded them. Despite having visited a few times before, each return visit only served to underscore the immense wealth Grismala possessed.
Upon reaching the office, Samille took the lead, turning the ornate door handle and pushing it open. Inside, Grismala sat at her desk, waiting.
"You've come. Good, we have a lot to cover," Grismala greeted them.
Samille's attention was immediately drawn to the large map spread out on the desk. It was marked with small figurines, each representing one of Octavia's lieutenants. Samille noticed that her piece was positioned outside of Octavia, prompting an immediate reaction.
"You can't be serious!" Samille's voice boomed at Grismala, incredulity dripping from her words. "My duty is to protect this city. Are you really going to send us away now of all times?"
Grismala's expression had darkened, but she held her composure, fingers intertwining as she weighed her decision. "Your duty extends beyond the city walls, to the people of Octavia."
Mila and Yarine stood behind Samille, silently observing as Grismala rose from her seat, her gaze fixed on the map spread before her. "Securing our territories is paramount. This task has long been overdue. I hesitated to act sooner, waiting for Mila to be prepared."
"Mila may possess strength, but she is not prepared for this," Samille argued as her shoulders loosened, her voice losing its intensity.
Mila clenched her fist, feeling betrayed by Samille's words. She knew what Samille spoke was true, yet her words hurt all the same. Grismala however, did not care for her preparedness. "Her training will have to suffice. I have faith in her abilities," Grismala said, her eyes briefly meeting Mila's, who remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Samille seeing that Grismala would not listen to her, studied the map intently, trying to at the very least understand the scenario. "Which village are we heading to first?"
There were countless towns and villages near Octavia that needed to be reinforced. But they simply did not have the manpower to deploy everywhere. "You will need to visit all of them, but time is not on our side," Grismala replied, her tone grave.
"Hm?" Samille looked up, intrigued.
"I suppose I can trust you with this information, but it must not leave this room," Grismala cautioned, her eyes scanning each of their faces. "We've received intelligence about a new weapon being developed by the Demon Cult. While we don't know the exact location of its deployment, we do know it won't be targeting our capital. They wouldn't risk it with our current security measures in place."
"What kind of weapon?" Samille asked, her voice tense with concern.
"A chemical, to be exact, but I'm afraid I can't share more details as I'm also kept in the dark on the matter," Grismala explained.
"So, our task is to locate these chemicals?" Samille sought clarification.
"More or less," Grismala confirmed, though a trace of uncertainty clouded her expression as she looked down at the map before her.
"A few chemicals couldn't possibly bring down an entire city..." Samille began, skepticism creeping into her voice.
All it took was one glance at Grismala's steely gaze for Samille to realize the dire situation they faced. "We're dealing with Morgana... Her cruelty and cunning know no bounds. We must prepare for any eventuality. The sooner we act, the better," Grismala asserted.
Yarine had a lingering question floating in her mind, one that she had to voice. "To what ends does she do this? What is it she hopes to accomplish by attacking mere villages?"
Grismala's eyes turned to Yarine. "She seeks to destabilize us from inside. To pick us off one by one until we can't defend Elven's Crossing."
Yarine could not accept that answer. Something in Grismala's eyes gave away her stance on the matter. She knew that Grismala was going to lie, so playing around would not work. She had to approach her directly, in front of everyone to exert pressure. "She's after it... isn't she?"
Grismala's eyes narrowed, while Samille and Mila turned in question. "After what?"
"The last harmonic crystal."
Everyone stood shocked at those words. Harmonic crystals were mythical in terms of rarity, and only three of them existed. The Southern Empire possessed one, and so did the Silver Church in the north. Yet the location of the third one remained undisclosed.
"But nobody knows where it is," Samille objected.
"No. We do know where it is. Don't we?" Yarine spoke, directly looking at Grismala as if she were challenging her.
A faint moment passed, and Grismala's annoyance was evident. Her eyes looked like they were about to rip Yarine to shreds. Never had they seen Grismala this way. "If you want us to work for you, you should let us know what we are in for." Yarine pressured.
Grismala's features were so menacing that it broke their spirits just seeing it. And finally, she spoke. "She is after Clovis. My brother. He holds the last Harmonic crystal."
Mila's heart sank. "Clovis... my uncle..."
Grismala continued, "I don't know how she found out, but she knows. Each village that has been hit thus far follows a pattern of locations he has visited. That narrows down the future locations she will hit. It isn't as random as you were led to believe."
"But the harmonic crystals are far too powerful for even Gods to use," Samille spoke.
"No, in the past, the Demon God has shown that its powers can be in fact utilized. For opening gateways to his realm, that is," Grismala explained. "The very reason that many of these crystals were destroyed was because of his own failed experiments with them."
"So, what would Morgana seek to do with it?" Mila questioned.
"What she has always sought to do. To be free," Grismala explained.
"Free?" Mila questioned.
Grismala turned around facing the window which overlooked the gardens below. The trio awaited in silence, waiting for her answer.
"Morgana... She was the most talented sorcerer of her time," Grismala began, her voice tinged with reminiscence and a hint of sadness. "She was everything I hoped to be, a person I looked up to. She excelled in any magic she practiced, summoning bolts of lightning from her fingertips as if it were natural, like the Gods themselves."
"You... You knew her? When was this?" Mila's voice was filled with curiosity, eager to learn more about Morgana.
"Long before any of you," Grismala replied, her gaze distant as she delved into her memories of centuries past. "Hundreds of years ago, before the second war. We studied together—my sister, Aela, my brother, Clovis, and I—at the magic academy of our time. We were skilled, yes, but what Morgana could do was far beyond our capabilities. She was composed, cunning—she embodied the essence of those traits. But she was also one who would reach too deeply to gain power, even when she was human. She conducted cruel experiments, ones that have been banned ever since. She had a fascination with blood, and the more she spilled, the more she sought. It was to a point where she would cut her own body to use her blood for magic."
"Her fascination turned towards the dark arts... As you can imagine with someone of her capabilities. Even I held a curiosity for its teachings. No mortal has been capable of mastering it besides her. But her thirst for knowledge did not end there. When she learned about Arbious's magical powers, it was like love at first sight for her."
"Blinded by her greed and envy, she fell in love with him... A madwoman, as if he could love anyone but himself. She pledged her loyalty to him, her eternal life to his will. The night of her conviction, we could sense the evil lingering in the air. We rushed over to her mansion, climbing up each and every dreadful step to find her. At the very highest room in her home, we found her. She had slain her own father, a dagger coveted with blood in her hands."
"That was the very first time we've seen her cry. It was a horrific sight. To this day I am unsure of why she did what she did, perhaps it was to reaffirm her loyalties to Arbious, or something more. One thing is certain, I've never seen truer conviction than hers, and though it sickens me, it is impressive. To this day, I believe she loves him, bearing his wicked mark of sins. There are those who would say that their souls are eternally bound to find each other. Their love is so strong that she would find him should she die a hundred times."
Mila's mind questioned her own feelings for Arbious. Dark thoughts crossed her mind. Would she have also slain Graybeard to be with him? The idea seemed impossible and yet...
"Is that really possible... to reincarnate?" Mila questioned.
Grismala turned around, her eyes stern as she spoke. "When considering we are dealing with Morgana it wouldn't be difficult to hold that as true."
A moment of silence took hold before Grismala continued her tale. "The day she did the deed, Tasildor itself wept, and its cries reached the world itself. As the will of the world, a binding curse was placed on her. She was never to bask in sunlight again for what she had done. She was to remain in the dark, fearful of the light to the end of times. There was only one direction her hate could be directed towards, and that was the sun."
Everyone listened intently, captivated by Morgana's story. "You see, the sun prevented her from being useful to Arbious. Yes, she was powerful, yet her uses were greatly limited. Arbious would be far to proud to allow her to join the Demon Army with the way she was, so she was sent away. She was the one that gave rise to the Demon Cult in his name, all in the hopes to appease him. Her ultimate goal, her ambition, was to bring forth an eclipse. The idea was simple, to block out the sun itself through the use of our moon. Yet the mana cost required for such an endeavor would be astronomical, it simply could not be done."
"And yet..." Yarine muttered.
"Well, that was what we were led to believe given our limited knowledge of how magic functioned. In the midst of the second war, she succeeded, summoning forth the eclipse. The sun was blocked out indefinitely, casting its dark shadow over the land by manipulating the energies of a harmonic crystal to her will. She could finally roam again, and she was dangerous. Far stronger than ever before..."
"We had to put an end to her... Or so we tried. The three of us—Clovis, Aela, and I—all fought against her and defeated her. We confronted her before the gates of Tasildor. The fight was gruesome, but the tree supplied us with the power we needed to overwhelm her. As Clovis was about to deliver the final blow, Arbious appeared before us, his wings shielding Morgana as he took her away. Aela and I used our magic to shoot them down from the skies, but to no avail, they fled. What they left behind was her necklace, embroidered with the harmonic crystal."
"You can imagine my shock when I heard that Morgana personally struck against us. Perhaps her hatred towards us runs deeper than her value for her own life." Grismala added, faintly smiling as she looked down.
Morgana's name evoked a shared hatred among those present, each having suffered at her hands in some way. Mila felt conflicted about her own feelings upon hearing Morgana's story, but she was also the one who harbored the deepest animosity toward her. Mila's outburst was inevitable. "I swear on my life, we will end her reign of terror!"
Grismala's lips curved into a faint smile, as if amused by Mila's bold declaration. Yet beneath that, she couldn't help but ponder the complexities of their task and the true extent of Morgana's malevolence. How wonderful would it have been if they were actually successful in eliminating her... A joyous thought.
Yarine's eyes widened at Mila's declaration, what utter none sense was she talking about she wondered. Morgana was not one to reveal herself that easily and if she did, she would ensure her own safety first and foremost. Even then, Mila would not stand a chance against her, even Yarine felt that their combined unit, no matter their training, would most certainly fail.
For the first time, Grismala's composed facade cracked. She slammed her fist onto her desk, causing the map to tremble beneath her wrath. "Her actions are beyond any justification. The death's she has brought and will continue to tally show her for who she truly is. Should you find her, eliminate her with no mercy. I'm counting on ALL of you! So don't you forget!"
Observing the resolve of both Yarine and Mila, Samille sighed and rubbed her eyes in resignation. "Fine," she conceded, turning to face the two. "I'm counting on the two of you."
With their discussion practically over, the trio made their way down to the mansion's courtyard. As the group prepared to depart, the air was tense with what they had to do, and the tale Grismala had shared with them left them with even more questions. Mila's mind was clouded with her own feelings, and at her very core, she somewhat sympathized with Morgana, yet for what she had done to Graybeard, Mila's mind had been made up.
Supplies were gathered, horses were saddled, and weapons were checked one last time. Grismala stood at the gates of the domain overlooking the preparations, her expression stoic yet tinged with concern. "I've arranged for a guide to accompany you," Grismala informed them, her voice firm. "He knows the region well and will help you navigate safely."
A figure approached in the distance. One that both Mila and Yarine recognized immediately. It was none other than Contii, no longer wearing his robes, rather, a shining metal armor that resembled the one his brother wore. A furious inferno burned in his eyes. "I'll get you where you need to go, but we'll need to move swiftly and stay off the main roads."
Something about Contii had changed. Though Mila could not tell for certain, she could sense his determination with the mission. Yarine, on the other hand, seemed happier than usual upon seeing Contii, which left Mila questioning the relationship between the two.
Samille nodded, acknowledging the plan. Turning to Yarine and Mila, she spoke with authority. "Mila, Yarine, the both of you have grown a lot stronger over these few weeks. But do not underestimate the vast forces under Morgana's employ. Should we come across even a single demon cultist, hold NOTHING back. Slay them with impunity."
Yarine's expression was resolute, her faith in their mission unwavering. "We won't fail, not with the lives of so many at stake."
Their focus turned to Mila to see how she would respond. For what Morgana had done to Graybeard, Mila swore to herself that she would make her pay. Even if it costed her own life. "I may be new to this, but I'll do whatever it takes to end Morgana's reign of terror."
With a final nod from Grismala, the group settled into the wagons prepared for their journey. She had meticulously stocked each one with ample supplies, ensuring they were well-equipped for the mission ahead. With everything in order, the wagons set off into the distance, the wheels creaking rhythmically against the earth as they embarked on their path.