They sat together, gathering their breath in silent companionship.

“I never though emotion could truly play such an effect on my Abilities.” Syl was the one to break it. Myron raised a brow but allowed the diversion for what it was. Not that he didn’t want to blurt out some more theory. He didn’t remember the last time he had been so exited about a single thing, a single piece of knowledge.

“To me it seemed from the very beginning that the details and exactness of each Ability is not very set in stone. It it was, then the Abilities would come with descriptions in the System. Cost and Damage expected to Shields. None of that happened so I knew something was afoot. It was right away, in the fight against Crone that I saw the power of the same Abilities fluctuate. There is no reason why an Earth Type Ability, like Rock Barrage - that’s how I named it - should be made of wet and muddy earth instead of solid rock just because the user was douse in Water by [Surge] after all. I know the Rocks can and are created from thin air by Aether when the Ability is Cast. Crone though was not trained in any way, she worked purely on emotion. She was feeling soaked, and tricked, and overcome. Like Mery had surpassed her in that moment. That mood created a noodle attack, ineffective at best. From then on, I’ve seen emotion play into Abilities since then, in every single one of our battles. You think of them as Rigid thinks because you grew up in such an environment, and Wild Aimon think of them as fluid things because they grew up with them being part of their nature, Abilities, without the System, are just them moving about their Aether, as natural as breathing, and if you’re angry or rush you breath faster, or slower or whatever. You get what I mean. The balance of the two states, that is what my Skills help you reach and what the System was aiming for in its creation and naming of these Abilities. Giving them Stars categorizing them.”

The three Aimon blinked and tried to digest the monologue. Myron let them. His attention returned back to the battlefield. For kilometers across the river bank had been shattered, scarred, burnt. Forests had grown out of nowhere and big icebergs like jagged sieves or shattered bottles of giants stuck out like sore thumbs in the meadow bathed in the warmth of the mid-day sun.

He didn’t quite manage to catch Jaimon in cluster of people, but what he did catch was the shouts beginning to spread amongst them. Soldiers pushed against Trainers, and tensions suddenly rose.

“I knew this would happen.”

“That’s why you took the Crystal? Is the Army confiscating everything?” Myron asked Syl and she nodded grimly. “It’s never pleasant to have your hard earned rewards be stolen by those you fought to protect. The Army is the single biggest loss of Capital and Human Life in the world, ask anyone and they will know this as a fact. Yet they are still used, extensively, in combat between Lords, Between Nations, between Human and Wild as you saw today.” She added and Myron had to shake his head. “Should we pray to Ilana for the souls of the fallen? I don’t believe I would ever want to be stepped on by an Aimon and die as a consequence and not as a warrior.”

The shouts grew even more as the corpses of tens of Aimon, even those owned by Trainers that were still alive were gathered up and carved open by the soldiers with long knives they carried on their belts. Myron stood up, straight as a sword. “Fuck.” Jaimon punched a Soldier away. The Blond shouted, his voice scratchy and pained, blood on his hands. Those that had fought alongside him rose up like a wave and pushed against the Army.

“It’s a matter of the Duchy’s Safety! National Safety!” Syvan shouted, his team of Aimon, fresh and fit, staring down the rugged and rough-housed resistance.

“And we are National Heroes!” Jaimon hollered back, his throat hoarse. He stepped in front of Syvan and Tomin both, his arms spread wide. “You are not taking Angel. Not her, and not Any of Our Aimon. We have the right to their Corpses! Corpses made because of your incompetence!” Myron felt his heart hammering in his chest as he stumbled closer. He heard Jaimon’s words loud and clear, and through the donzens of feet in between him and the fallen Aimon he saw the fallen bird.

“Ah, I remember what Aimon she is. Aphrosnow, known for having the softest plumage in the Shinka Empire, amongst the most elegant Aimon of the Three Empires and the Thousand Tribes. Known to have high standards for themselves and their Trainers, High enough that they would prefer death to a Bond they were dissatisfied with.” Syl provided and those words made the situation all the more real.

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“You took up this Mission did you not?!” Tomin shouted, bring forth a Paper. “Did you read it all? Do you think the reward was so high out of Charity? Did you read the fine print? Any of you? The fallen Aimon are to be dealt with however the Army dictates. All of the Fallen.”

Jaimon stuttered, but he was pushed aside. No protest rose as more and more Aimon where gathered near where the Aimon Myron and his team had killed. The two brothers exchanged a few words and a scowl but didn’t bother. They carved up all the Aimon while the crowd of Trainers stood on, watching. Jaimon cried into the shoulders of his remaining Team. Myron hesitated. He wanted to approach, but he simply shouldn’t. They had contraband on them, and Syl would be recognized by Tomin, he couldn’t put her in danger.

Thus they stepped further away.

Then, a gasp passed through the crowd. Myron turned around and the world came to a standstill. Fire rose high and tall, the smell of burnt flesh spread outward like the plague.

“Syl, isn’t this supposed to be.. Like, Sacrilegious? A waste? Why are they burning them?”

“Because, Myron. That’s what a Dead Zone is. The clean up was done haphazardly at first, Syvan let it happen and Tomin didn’t know what to do. Then the delay because of Jaimon. It’s too dangerous to extract all the use out of the Dead Aimon now. This is where you are. In a place where no Aether can be allowed. No Aimon shall spawn from the womb of the world, the whims of the Aetherial River. Such a things can’t be allowed. That is why they took out all the Aether, that is why the Aether that is now spreading can’t be allowed to grow any more.”

A gust of wind begun to blow towards the river and further north.

“Aimon Hate Humans, they can’t be allowed to roam free or else they will hurt as. That is the Law in this world.” She said grimly, shivering at the sight, in Anger and Fear both, the Emotions hit Myron like a truck.

“There is no way. No way it goes that deep. Syl. You have to be joking. That would be the most insane example of Projection I have ever heard of.”

“Myron. Don’t deny it. You know it’s true. Jaimon, Damien, You. You’re all exceptions. This Aether, that is now spreading through the land, unbothered by constraints of flesh. It is a disease. It shall enter the lungs of common farm animals, and make them go rampant once it gets absorbed into them, and becomes a part of them. It’s called the Aether Plague, and it is considered deadly for cities and towns. If the proper measures are not taken, half the Duchy will starve to death in the coming Winter, as the Animals that would be there to feed the people, would have been put down, in fear of them devolving further into Mutants.”

“But that’s. If they all had Aimon to protect them, would this Happen? Would the common Animal ever be a threat?”

“It wouldn’t of course. Not to mention, that Animals that exist, as you have seen, in lands that are infused constantly with Aether they are not Mutants, nor are they crazy. The Ecosystem needs a Balance. It needs Aimon. If those are missing completely, and Spontaneous Birth is impossible, the world will try to create them with whatever means it is given.”

She chuckled grimly, all anger fading away from her. “Actually, this is an unfortunate Time to realize. But you were more correct than you think, when you spoke about Belief and Emotions. If Humans view Aimon as Slaves to be owned, and also feared, and Aether is a Disease that harms their livestock, then the World has begun to view Humans as a Tumor that is slowly eating away at it and disturbing its normal Functions. I hope, I pray to Ilana, that the time when its defense against the Human Virus becomes more Active never comes.” She whispered, her hands clasped in solemn prayer. Syl spoke in platitudes, Myron understood, she spoke about the results of the actions before her, the message they sent, the meaning they held.

It was an attitude and a Fear Myron hadn’t seen in Syl before. Hell, it was a response so intense that he pondered if there was ever a moment in his life that he had seen someone so intensely afraid of the understanding they had gained, of the world they lived in. Maybe, if he had looked in the mirror, the moment he learned of his parents death locked inside that pigsty of a prison-home. Maybe.

Myron shook his head, letting his goosebumps settle. He took Dakini and Mery’s hands before bringing all three of them into a big hug. “Good work team. You did splendid on all accounts. I’m proud of you. Our work here is done, I say we head south, pass by a few farms and try to see if we can help, if they need help, on our way down to the Capital. Any Mutants we sense along the way - I’m speaking about your lovely passive Syl - we take out with impunity. What do we do with Mutant Corpses?”

“Take the Lungs, burn the rest. The Lungs are volatile products that are used in the creation of Human weapons. Otherwise we can cook them in a stew, the Aether may have made the base animals crazy, but it won’t harm us. Nor you.”

“I know. Aether is not harmful. As I’ve said before. Aether is emotion, it’s belief, it’s energy, it’s… Will. It’s a lot of things, but a disease it is not. Are we good to go?” He asked, looking all three of his beautiful teammates and partners in the eyes.

Plan set, they took off.

“Hey! That’s MY Queen Emeramantis! And that’s my Crystal!” Myron heard in the distance, but the words quickly got lost in the winds. He scoffed at the attitude of young Tomin. The Child had much to learn if he ever wanted to be Duke. ‘That old man of his better not kick the bucket soon, or this place is going to have problems. We should get out of here sooner rather than later.’