[UNKNOWN LOCATION]

With his back pressed against the rocky wall, the hooded figure took a few deep breaths to soothe his aching chest. He looked down at his hands; they were shaking and drenched in cold sweats. Interesting, he thought quietly. It has been a long time since a fight left him exhilarated and…scared.

“It seems you underestimated the boy, Hummingbird.”

The hooded figure fidgeted after hearing a deep, male voice to his left. Shortly after, a tall figure glided out of the darkness clad in a priestly grey robe and a shiny black mask.

“Vulture. What a surprise,” the Hummingbird replied unenthusiastically.

“What’s wrong? You don’t sound too happy to see me,” the tall figure chided.

“I don’t think there is ANYONE in the world who is happy to see you,” said the Hummingbird before she quickly hid her wet hands underneath her robe. “And I also don’t think you are here simply to greet me. So, who sent you?”

Instead of answering the question, the Vulture let out a gravelly chuckle. The Hummingbird huffed in return, wondering why he bothered asking in the first place.

“Have you forgotten something?” the Vulture inquired.

The Hummingbird tilted his head and replied sternly, “What?”

“The Crown. Weren’t you supposed to return here with that thing in your hands?” said the Vulture.

“I would have if only the intelligence I received was accurate,” the Hummingbird retorted, “The Crown was never hidden inside the Cerulean Mausoleum. In other words, your source gave us inaccurate information.”

“Ah, that is quite unfortunate,” the Vulture responded indifferently.

“Unfortunate? You have wasted precious time and resources simply because you did not fact-check your information. He will be very upset and you know how he is when he’s upset.”

The Vulture became quiet. Though there were no eyes on his black faceless mask, the Hummingbird could feel the priestly figure’s eyes staring back at him. Seconds later, however, a pair of willowy hands emerged from the Vulture’s robe; his fingers intertwined with each other.

“Quite a predicament we are in right now,” the Vulture commented. “But why should we carry all the blame?”

“So, that’s your solution -- to sell out your informant? That is a stupid move for someone like you,” the Hummingbird returned.

“That man has already outlived his purpose many moons ago. The only reason I kept him alive is because of his connection with the Inner Circle.”

“And you are willing to lose that connection?”

“Yes,” the Vulture promptly answered, “There is nothing more the Inner Circle could tell me. They are currently plagued with constant idleness and insatiable appetites for worldly things. It will be a matter of time until they start eating each other.”

“You expect me to believe that?” the Hummingbird scoffed, “You are not the kind of person who moves on so quickly without something up his sleeve. So, what’s your angle here?”

“My angle is much simpler than yours, little girl. A certain someone wronged me in the past and I intend to make him pay for what he did,” as soon as the Vulture finished his sentence, he spun around and began walking toward the shadow. “The Hawk is waiting for you, Miss Hummingbird. I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you.”

***

|| THE PATH OF THE INFERNO: SAMUEL EDELWEISS ||

Sam watched in silence as the Tree of Vigilance was set ablaze by his flame. It was a breathtaking yet terrifying scene for him, seeing how the fire rapidly spread all over the trunk and branches. Not long after, he heard a sharp, cracking sound followed by one of the large branches breaking off of its main body before collapsing on top of the monster. The creature let out a piercing scream until its voice was muffled by the raging flame. Then, he turned his attention toward Jason who was not lying motionlessly on his back.

“Jason,” said Sam, and as he rushed to his friend, dozens of pure white threads sprouted out of the ground and encased the unconscious prince like a cocoon. “NO!” Sam cried out but he suddenly felt something heavy pressing against his back, causing him to fall on his face. “Blegh!” Sam spat out the grass from his mouth and quickly glanced over his shoulder. A tall wispy figure stood over him with its right leg resting on his spine.

Hold still. Let nature run its course.

“That voice,” Sam spouted, “You’re the one who told me to burn the tree.”

And you still did it, despite knowing the outcome.

“I don’t have a choice.”

There’s always a choice. You could choose to ignore my advice. You could choose to let yourself be crushed by that monster. Yet, you didn’t – why?

“I told you I don’t have a choice-ARGH!” Sam cried out as the figure pushed its feet deeper into his back.

Careful with your next words, boy.

“I…I did it because it was the right thing to do. If I don’t burn down the tree, more civilians will die at Jason’s hand.”

So, you’re willing to sacrifice one life to save thousands more?

“No, that’s not it. I just…I just don’t want his last moment to be spent by slaughtering his people – the same people he grew up with and swore to protect.” After finishing his last sentence, Sam felt the weight lifted off his back. He briskly got to his feet and drew his blade, aiming it at the figure.

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You are too kind for your own good, child, not to mention naïve– assuming every single one of your problems will be solved if you find out who you are, the figure remarked.

“What is that supposed to mean?” said Sam, both of his eyes narrowed.

Think about it, child. The Wailing Forest, the Desert of Ashes, and now here, in this eastern continent. Do you think all of them are three separate events?

Sam remained quiet though he could not help but feel intrigued by the question.

There are those who lurk in the shadows, pulling strings and wreaking havoc across Discordania ever since the Cataclysm, the figure continued.

“The black masks,” Sam blurted out, “You do know this is not the first secret underground organization the Order has ever faced, right?”

This is not just another regular clandestine organization, the figure replied with a hint of annoyance in its voice. You have seen what they are capable of – the trail of destruction they left behind. They are not as predictable as the Disciples of Vidia nor as vicious as the Flesh-Gorger. All they care about is sowing chaos across the land and watch as friends and families turn against each other.

“And what does this have to do with me?”

What is the point of asking a question that you already have the answer to?

Sam frowned upon hearing the figure’s blasé response. “You’re one of those people. Look, whatever it is you believe, that Prophecy has nothing to do with me,” Sam stated.

Hm, good, the figure retorted, Denial is the first step to acceptance.

“Why do I even bother,” Sam sighed. Then, he glanced at Jason’s direction who was still enclosed within the white cocoon. “What’s happening to him?”

Recovering. The young prince performed a great feat for his age – gaining control of his subconscious self and venturing freely through this realm. He might have gotten himself killed…or worse, the figure explained.

“And what is worse than death?”

His mind will be damaged beyond repair, causing him to be neither dead nor alive. However, thanks to you, he’ll be just fine.

Reassured by the figure’s answer, Sam could finally feel his entire body relaxed. But, he still kept his eyes on the mysterious presence in case it was trying to do anything funny. To his surprise, the figure raised its right arm – or what he presumed to be its right arm and all the flame enveloping the Tree of Vigilance gathered in its hand.

Vibrant, but slightly feral, the figure commented before extinguishing the flame.

“Who exactly are you? For an apparition, you sure know a lot about…well, about everything,” said Sam.

When you live in a world called Discordania, knowing everything is necessary, the figure replied as it lifted its hand at Sam, As to who I am, that is a question for another day.

A golden hue flame shot out of its arm and Sam swiftly raised his katana as the flame headed toward him. Before the flame reached him, however, it began to expand until it resembled a large wave.

“Another one of those fancy attacks. But you are still a fire,” Sam spouted. He waved his katana in a semi-circular motion and as he expected, the flame also followed his movement. “Urgh!” Sam gasped as his blade grew heavier and colder but he could not afford to loosen his grip. All of a sudden, the flame split in half, and the wispy figure walked out from between the blazing wall.

Your mastery over the flame is truly impressive. Whoever taught you must be well-versed in Pyrokinesis, said the silhouette.

“He was not the only one who was well-versed in Pyrokinesis,” Sam answered. He brought his sword over his head and the golden flame flowed into the blade like a stream of water. As he finished absorbing all the fire, Sam swung his sword downward, releasing a massive golden fireball at the figure. He was expecting the mysterious silhouette to dodge the incoming attack but instead, it allowed itself to be consumed by the fireball.

An explosion of yellow light ensued accompanied by a deafening, rushing noise. As the sound and light gradually died down, he heard deep rumbling and also shouting. From the dissipating smoke, a group of soldiers clad in full-body armor emerged with spears and shields in their hands.

Sam quickly straightened himself up but instead of attacking him, the soldiers ran past as if he was invisible to their eyes. He spun around, noticing more similar-looking people surrounding a pack of Lacerators.

“Hold them down! Don’t let them out of the circle!” a soldier shouted, prompting the others to point their weapons toward the Distorted. Unfortunately, one of the monsters managed to jump over the spears before the soldiers could complete their formation.

SPLAT!

An arrow of light burst open the escaped Lacerator’s head, spilling its blood and bits of brain on the nearby soldiers. “Told you boys not to let your guard down and what’s the first thing you did?” said a sharp, female voice.

Sam shuddered as a slender woman in sleek white armor appeared from behind. She was a splitting image of Aria except for her flowing silver hair and a small black crescent tattoo on her chin. In his hands was a grey bow and Sam assumed its body was made from steel. Furthermore, she had this commandeering presence – a stark contrast to the warm gentleness exuded by the Opal Sun Princess.

“Forgive me, Lady Artemis. I should have-.”

“Hush, no excuses,” the woman called Artemis cut the soldier short. “I promised your family to bring your back alive and I intend to keep that promise. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, ma’am. I mean, Your Radiance,” the soldier stuttered.

“Now, give me some space,” said Artemis.

The soldier nodded his head before ordering his brethren to step away from the Distorted. “Time to get to work,” Artemis exhaled.

Sam watched in silence as the armored woman rushed toward the monsters, slicing and dicing them with her bow. After slaying her last foe, Artemis lifted her head skyward; her tangerine-coloured eyes focused on the looming dark clouds.

“Order, Your Radiance?” a soldier inquired.

“Regroup back at the Palace and tell Cassiopeia to not let anyone in nor out of the citadel.”

“You’re not…coming back with us?”

“You don’t need me to hold your hands,” Artemis retorted, “Besides, I already cleared the way for you.”

GRRRR!

A distant thunderclap made Artemis frown and she raised her bow just as a large dark mass fell from the sky and crashed in front of her.

“Ow. Well, that went better than I expected,” said a male voice.

“You’re slipping, Apollo,” Artemis grumbled at the person lying near her foot.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking by the way,” replied the man named Apollo who bore an uncanny resemblance to Jason although he had a longer and messier raven hair and a tiny sun tattoo over his left brow. “Its skin is much thicker than I first anticipated,” Apollo added before getting to his feet.

“I told you not to go alone. See where that got you?”

“Just so you know, I didn’t plan to go alone. Ivan and Lei are preoccupied in the south and Cassiopeia – she’s busy handling the civilians,” Apollo ranted.

GRRRR!

Another thunderclap – only this time, it was directly over their heads. Shortly after, the dark clouds slowly parted way, revealing a humongous winged silhouette hovering in the air. A pair of round yellow eyes peeked through the thunderclouds; both of them gazed down on both Apollo and Artemis. Then, a giant ball of light began to manifest below the eyes, growing and crackling with energy.

“Oh, this is gonna tingle,” Apollo remarked before everything turned bright white.