A man sits alone before an empty table. The table is a round shape, and on top of it is a model. A shadow covers most of this model, but one visible part remains. The mountain that hosts the Ice Fortress can be seen quite visibly. On top of it are many small figures of ice.
The man on the table leans forward, his face coming into view. Wisps of light blue hair sway in the air. One strand points at the tattoo on his cheek. The tattoo reads as “VIII”. Ice spectacles rest upon the bridge of his nose. He is none other than the man who calls himself ‘Eight’.
He looks at the bottom of the mountain, pushing down two of the small figures with his index finger. They crumble under the pressure, being reduced to nothing but miniscule shards littering the model.
“That is two good servants I lost there.”
His finger wags around in the air for a moment, before finding and resting upon another figure perched directly in front of the destroyed ones.
“Soon you too shall meet your long- awaited end, Varian.”
He pushed down his finger with a slightly more intense pressure, causing that figure too to meet the same fate as the previous two. The man paused for a moment.
“It seems I still have much practice to do.”
He then looked down slightly below the mountain. Whatever he was looking at was hidden by the shadow of the room.
“Now this. This is far more exciting.”
The man let his finger traced down for a few seconds before stopping.
“Soon. The boy will finally return to the abyss. And then none of you will be safe.”
——————
Titan.
Let Arc 3 Begin.
——————
Three individuals were traveling across the snow at high speeds. Joker, the head of the Feline Subclan, was accompanied by two members of the Spear’s First Division. Faron and Aries. Two capable fighters Joker had grown up with and respected greatly.
Joker had gone into his complete feline mode, dashing across the snow on all fours at a rapid pace. The other two were just barely trailing behind, balancing on their spears to hover in the air. It wasn’t long until they entered a forest.
Faron: “A little bit to the west Joker.”
Joker slightly adjusted his angle, and the three of them stopped before a cabin.
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Aries was the first to enter. He was a truly frightening beast, with the build of a Marauder matched with the skills of a Spear.
The door to the cabin was kicked down, and within a minute the three of them had thoroughly searched through the entire area.
Faron: “Joker?”
Joker: “It’s definitely been lived in by that brat. But it hasn't been touched for over a week.”
Aries: “So that tip was fake?”
Faron took a moment to think before responding.
Faron: “It matters not. As per our orders, we’ll return and report we saw nothing. Our assistance is required after all, for the rebellion of the Marauders and Dancing Blade.”
Joker smiled.
Joker: “So much for that order you two have worked you have worked so hard to maintain.”
Aries gave a deathly stare in front of him, refusing to look Joker in the eye.
Aries: “There is no order with those lowly monkeys who find no remorse in killing their own kin over the slightest inconvenience. We shall head back now. This goose chase has soured my mood further and I intend to take it out on those decrepit shits.”
——————
Varian walked through the Royal Palace, blood smeared across his face. Over his shoulder was a woman. Carmen, his loyal First Division member. She had been stabbed while he was carelessly pursuing those escapees. He had also just received news that his son was nowhere to be seen. It was safe to say he was angry.
He followed the loud strum of a harp to stop before Lyra, strumming her harp over a corpse. She looked up at Varian, raising her eyebrows slightly. Her reaction caused Varian to understand his arrival had been expected.
Lyra: “Varian-”
Varian: “I have nothing to say to you.”
He looked at the corpse, recognizing it to be the one of a boy he was looking for. Neville, a child of the Dancing Blade. Varian had witnessed his healing abilities firsthand. He firmly believed the Fortress could not lose an asset so valuable. It seemed Lyra held the same sentiment.
Varian put down Carmen slowly. As he did, he also noticed Raven lying nearby. A clean hole was through her stomach, and her eyes were losing the little light they had left. She was the only Spear worthy of consideration into the First Division. He looked at Lyra. Analyzing the current situation, he decided to temporarily forgive her.
Varian: “What’ll happen?”
Lyra: “The boy is strong, but his injuries are severe. As are Raven’s. My melodies are keeping them from dying completely, but unless the boy can come back, they will slowly die in their agony.”
Varian noticed a slight glint from the boy’s face. He had been lying on his stomach, so Varian used his foot to turn his head over a bit. The sight disgusted him. His face had been replaced with crystals in the tunnel below. This was reminiscent of the Emperor's sick experiments.
Varian: “Lyra you-”
Lyra: “It was the only way to keep him alive, Varian. Go down to the tunnel.”
Varian: “Why?”
Lyra: “You’ll want to.”
Varian hesitated, but he knew better than to distrust Lyra when she was serious. He walked down towards the throne, slipping himself through the hole. He walked for a bit, only to stop in shock. His best and closest servant, Radan, was slumped across the crystal wall, long dead.Besides him Varian recognized the Marauder’s best three fighters, including his fellow Council member, Bjorn. Of all these people, only Bjorn remained alive, though he seemed near death’s door as well.
Bjorn: “Come here to kill me, have ya? You old fool. This is the outcome your ‘order’ has led to.”
Varian ignored the oaf’s empty taunts.He stood staring silently at Radan’s corpse. Never in his entire life had he thought that this man would meet such an unworthy end. The thought alone infuriated him.
Steps echoed across the tunnel as two figures came into view. The two Royal Guards, Aran and Jaron stood before him.
Aran: “What do you plan to do, Varian?”
Varian: “I’m going to speak to the Emperor”
Jaron: “That will not be possible.”
Varian turned to glare at the former First Division member. Bjorn let out a small laugh. Or perhaps he was coughing up blood.
Varian: “Excuse me?”
Aran: “Speak with respect Jaron. However, he is correct Varian. The Emperor has explicitly stated he will not allow any interaction with him. Perhaps he will emerge for the Festival, but that remains to be seen.”
Varian didn’t know if he should laugh. Every sin he committed, every sacrifice he had made was for the sake of the Emperor. He had looked away at even the worst moments, telling himself that it was necessary for the order. But now, when Varian needed him most, he dared choose to be wrapped up in the comfort of his own chambers? He looked at the Royal Guard and their adamant glares and sighed. He neither had the confidence nor the motivation to try his luck against these two, especially here.
Varian: “So what is to happen.”
Aran: “Once again, you run this place. Treat it as you wish. Your only condition is to guarantee the Emperor’s wish will one day be granted. As for the Emperor himself, he claims he is devising a way to transfer his consciousness.”
The second part of this statement was news to Varian. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how the Emperor might accomplish such a feat. But he was not one to question a genius. And as corrupted as he may be, Aelon was forever the greatest genius of the Ice Elementals.
Varian: “And his wish is?”
Aran: “I believe you know that answer already.”
Bjorn groaned, causing all three to stare at him.
Bjorn: “What are you fuckers talking about?”
Varian walked towards Bjorn, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him up.
Varian: “You have bigger things to worry about my fellow member of the Council.You won’t be seeing light for a very long time. A shame too. I will destroy the fractured order myself and build our society from anew. And you won’t be here to witness it.
End.