“Now then. I suppose it was time that found her true calling.” Fieluri mused as she heard the familiar buzzing of powerful magic in her ear. It seems that Airen had finally mustered the courage to use the staff that she had given him.
Fieluri touched Keri’s chest and murmured a few intangible words. As soon as the spell finished, her hand, then her arm, then her entire body seemed to slip inside Keri’s body. Even if Airen was there to witness the scene, he would not have realized it was a rift that Fieluri had slipped through.
Sometime afterward.
“You’ve awaken at last. And here I was hoping you would just die and save me the trouble.” Fieluri’s disdainful words were the first things Keri woke up to.
“Ugh…” A nauseating headache assaulted Keri as she sat up, causing her vision to blur for a brief moment. “What just-”
“You went to Aotapia.” Fieluri said flatly, leaning against the wall while hugging her knees. “Surely you didn’t think you would escaped that place unscathed, especially after running into her.”
As soon as Fieluri spoke that last word, Keri’s migraine renewed with piercing throbs, and she reeled over in the pain.
“Who was-” Keri couldn’t form the remaining words, and when she tried, her mind suddenly blanked.
“Let’s go for a change in scenery.” Fieluri stood up slowly, as if she was tired from a great ordeal. She crouched on the floor and trailed her finger on the dungeon floor in a circle. Keri felt herself falling before she was shrouded in darkness.
When her vision returned, she was met with the sight of a sandy beach and a setting sun, ocean waves gently lapping against her feet and a faint breeze gently caressing her face.
“This way, we’ll have more time to speak.” Fieluri herself was dressed in a pure white dress, creating a stark contrast against the orange of the dusk sky.
“About your last statement. Until you meet her, and go through the Rite of Rebirth, you should never harbor thoughts or think about that which you met at Aotapia.” Fieluri answered Keri’s first question. “For precaution, I’ve sealed those memories, but it’s only temporary.”
“From henceforth, I hereby relieve you of duty as Airen’s mentor. Rejoice.” Fieluri placed a hand on Keri’s shoulder and made a grasping motion. A wispy trail of rainbow-colored threads seemed to peel away, like thin silk or gossamer.
“I’ll be taking this back. You won’t be needing it any longer.”
Keri was about to speak, but instead Fieluri stopped her with a finger at her lips. “I will also take the name I gave you back then, and in return you shall be known as Lizabel Varmoin once more. Names have powerful binding and sealing properties. You can think of this as finally being free from my clutches.” Fieluri smirked. “However, except for this conversation, most of your memories as Keri Duvot will belong to me. There will be consequences if my existence would be made known after all...”
“Who would want to know about you? Your old enemies?” Lizabel finally spoke up, slightly overwhelmed with the information she was given.
“For one, the founder and other survivor of Osperica. Teacher of your ancestor, Osper. The original wielder of the black flames known as Duskpyre. Creator of the weapon Silverlight. Sovereign of the starry skies, seated upon a black castle that appears by night… the Moonlit Princess.” There was a hint of a grudge in Fieluri’s tone, as well as a bit of respect.
“Take this, it will lead you to her, or her to you.” A rift appeared in front of Fieluri and a hunk of onyx-colored rock fell into the palm of her hands. It was not until Lizabel held it in her own hands that she realized it was actually a piece of armor, a pitch-black breastplate. Fieluri snapped her fingers, and it vanished, reappearing on her body in a snug fit.
“I think it’s time I went and helped Airen. The battle’s almost over.” Fieluri closed her eyes for a moment before speaking again. “I’ll send you out of this dungeon, and then you should head north.”
“I do not consider us friends, Lizabel, but I have watched over your slumber for a long time, and that means something. Take care, young scion. For the next time we meet, it will be that of enemies.” Fieluri slowly waved a hand and Lizabel’s form flickered, slowly becoming transparent.
“I don’t have much of an enmity with you.” Lizabel commented as her form grew ever more opaque.
“You should, and you will. Because I was the one who killed Osper.”
Lizabel didn’t feel anything at this parting. The History Eater left her with more questions than answers. However, she was a bit regretful that she had to leave Airen since there was no discord between them.
Accompanied with such thoughts, her form disappeared into a light wind.
At the same time, Fieluri turned around.
Behind her was an an endless gray graveyard, and on the nearest stone marked the words, ‘Osper Duvot.’
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A few nights prior to the Enforcer incident. A pair of cerulean wings was barely visible in the night as it swooped down and landed by a large, ice-covered boulder. Liur glanced over towards June’s home, where a pair of eyes peeked out from behind a window. She gave Galvin a light nod, and the Stormcrow’s eyes vanished.
Liur pecked at Nakrin’s arm for a moment, before seating herself atop of it.
Of all those in the Frost Palace, she decided to send you. Nakrin. The one that is neither human nor creature, the Permafrost Ancient. Without a doubt, you are strongest out of all of us… which means that Lumnieve really intends to wage war.
Nakrin made no reply, not because he did not want to, but because he simply could not. He was a creation of magic, an ancient created to control winter, and golems had no need to speak. Yet that did not mean he lacked intelligence. A piece of ice on the ground suddenly sprang to life, and transformed into a pure-white Winter’s Breath, forming sparkling letters in the darkness in the language of beasts.
Of course, such is war.. Liur answered after seeing Nakrin’s words. You can either grow tired of it, or grow fond of it. How long has it been since the Legion of Winter mobilized?
Liur cocked her head at Nakrin’s instantaneous response.
No, my memories are cloudy. They only go as far as my great-grandmothers. But it’s only a matter of time.
The rock Liur stood on trembled, as if in gentle laughter.
That may be true. Beings like us have all the time in the world. But Yuelei does not. She is looking for someone, you see. Even if eternity was willing to wait for her, it does not wait for the one she seeks.
Nakrin made a comment, this time causing Liur to smirk.
It seems that everyone is searching for someone.
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“Is this your all, Liliana of Loresta?” Fieluri goaded the crumbling figure below her, barely supporting her own weight with her sword. Dried blood and muck caked her face and armor, a stark contrast from when she arrived at the top of the marble tower. “Does your righteousness and sense of justice amount to so little?!”
Fieluri hovered in the air above them, twelve giant swords the size of buildings dancing around her. Behind her was an uncountable and growing number of spellbooks and weapons pouring out of a black rift that blocked out the sky. Every so often, one of these spellbooks would launch a spell, or a weapon would fly at Liliana, forcing her tired body to move and dodge out of the way.
“Come now, I know you are capable of more!” Fieluri taunted.
“You… abomination.” Liliana held up a hand in front of her as a series of spears flew towards her. A pure white shield seemingly created from threads of purity manifested itself. The spears struck the shield, before they were deflected and slammed harmlessly into the ground next to her.
“This is…” Fieluri was a bit shocked as a girl stood in front of the kneeling figure. Her clothing was bizzare, her posture strange, and her demeanor quite different from the frail girl behind her, yet there was no denying that her face was that of Liliana’s.
Before Fieluri could finish, she suddenly vanished and reappeared a few meters to her left. Where she stood prior, a gash had appeared in the air and a green-glowing glaive appeared. A few moments later, a knight in ebony armor stepped out. It glared at Liliana on the ground for a moment before taking off its helmet, revealing a pale white face that resembled Liliana’s except with a tattoo of that of a bat.
A slow smile crept onto Fieluri’s face as more and more versions of Lilianas stepped out. Some who tore their existence into the world by their own power, others by borrowing the power of a stronger version of themselves. Before long, the number nearly rivaled the number of weapons and spellbooks in the sky, and some of them even bore weapons from the Archive.
“At long last… a worthy contender to finish the tale of the Enlightened Beast of the Marble Tower.” Fieluri murmured with a smile.
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“Let us hope you are the victor this time… sister.”
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“Silfy. June. Wake up.” Galvin gently shook the sleeping pair of girls on the bed. Once they were roused from their slumber, he backed off and moved towards the window, where he kept one eye out the window.
“What is it?” June was the first to waken, quickly sliding to the edge of the bed and sat up in one fluid motion. A few seconds later, Silfy joined her, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
“Pack your things, we’re leaving.” Galvin said quietly. “I’ve contacted a friend at the League of Adventurers to arrange us some gear we’ll need for the journey.”
“Where are we going? And where’s Yuli? Is she not back yet?” Silfy rubbed her shoulder as she was struck with the cold. June’s house was closer to the Whitefrost Mountains, and therefore much chillier compared to the Justinia Estate.
“Your friend, Miss Alia, came this morning with a warning. Some Enforcers appeared and tried to take her, but she resisted.” Galvin said flatly.
“What! Why!?” Silfy protested as June draped a furskin over her.
“That’s an answer I’m afraid even I don’t know.” Galvin smiled sadly. “But even I could see the signs that a time of turmoil is coming to the Holy Land of Ecclisa. We’re going to lay low for a while until it clears over.”
“What about the Knight Academy? And where are we going?!”
“I have no doubt in the coming years the Royal Knight Academy is going to start recruiting cadets to fight in their wars. Many will die.” Galvin answered without holding anything back. “It won’t be the first time the Church sent the young into the battle by guilt-tripping them into joining.”
“As for where we are going… we’re going to head east to the Ona Chaparrel lands. From there we’ll head north towards the Voll’daka Volcano, and then finally west to the Desolate Tundra. It’ll be a long journey, but this way we can avoid the Shadowless front.”
“And what about Yuelei?” June asked. “Is she here? I’m sure my people would be very interested in meeting her…”
Galvin gestured for her to come closer, and he pointed outside at the piles of red ice and blood-colored slush spread out in front of the house.
“She has left after dealing with the Enforcers. From what I saw, she summoned a golem and eradicated them without lifting a finger. Someone as powerful as her should be able to manage on her own.”
“Still… must we leave?” Silfy echoed.
“Do you doubt your friend’s warning, Silfy?” Galvin answered.
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“I already have enough samples, stay down if you wish to keep your lives.” Fieluri strode forward as several white-winged beings emitting dull white light laid on the floor to her sides. All of them were wounded, and a wispy-white ichor poured out from their injuries. In front of her was a pedestal on which a shimmering golden-orange staff levitated.
“You… what are you?!” One of the winged beings from Ahru struggled to his feet and spoke up, using his glaive as support. “How did you manage to enter Valru? Are you from Ishtov!?”
“Ishtov? No… but I will be heading there after my business here is concluded.” Fieluri smiled as she picked up Noxla, Light of Centuries End.
“Someone like you cannot use our sacred-”
“Spark.” The ensuing laser beam of light all but incinerated the one that spoke up. As the other angel-like creatures watched on in shock and fear, a pitch black rift opened, in which the intruder casually tossed the weapon into.
“It seems that there’s still a few more notable artifacts to collect…” Fieluri murmured to herself after scanning for traces of magic around her. “There’s so much to be done…”
“Why are you doing this…? What did we ever do to you?” One of the younger females spoke. Hearing her words, Fieluri smirked and knelt down next to her, causing her to blanch and scuttle backward.
“Oh foolish Valians, did you truly think when you brought war to another realm, that there would be no repercussions? Did you think, when the humans closed the gates to your world, that it was all over?” Fieluri taunted as she traced a finger down the Valian’s neck.
“Since they purged their books and tomes on both worlds, I have no choice but to come here personally, you understand?” Fieluri continued to stroke the woman’s face as her complexion grew even paler. “Do you know how much trouble you Valians have put me through?”
Fieluri’s hands stopped, and then suddenly moved to the Valian’s forehead. She screamed as pain assaulted her skull and brain, the sensation as if a powerful suction was tugging away at her very being.
“You see, I’m a person that dislikes bothersome things.” Fieluri smiled as the Valian’s eyes slumped back and her body fell on the ground. In her hands was a tiny smoking black book.
“But even more so, I detest when human lives are stripped of their potential , their stories. And for that, I will have you all suffer...as they have suffered.”
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Edge of the Sel Forest.
“Be gentle with her, Lin. She’s still young.” Eir chatisted as their flying slab of stone gently touched down into the ground. Lin, who was standing by the girl recently cured of the Shadowless Blight, had his hand on her shoulder as she tried to get used to solid ground once more.
“Give her a few more years and she’ll be able to fly on her own. Those blessed by the Great Spirit of Nature always tend to grow quickly.” Lin patted the girl’s, Peygie’s, head. She was quite young, so Lin’s palm almost covered the entirety of the top of her head. Her eyes peeked out from her unruly hair at him before looking away, and a red tinge appeared on her cheeks.
“Ah, she’s embarrassed. Aren’t you popular, Lin?” Morrighan laughed and brushed off her hands. She then picked up the girl and buried her between her chest. “She’s so delightfully cute that I could just eat her up.”
“You’re suffocating her. Morrigan.” Fallas, the ancient wind spirit, cautioned as he chuckled.
“But she smells nice! Like cut tailgrass and oak pine trees.” Morrigan continued to rub her face against the girl’s black hair, speckled with green where the sunlight touched. “So different when we first found her! Can’t we keep her instead of giving her to Isolde?”
“She’s not a pet. Morrigan.” Eir sighed, pulling Peygie away. She gently turned her around to face the towering trees of the Sel Forest, the treetops were so high in the air that they almost touched the clouds.
“In a little while, this place will be your home. Someone who shares the same power within you lives here.” Eir placed a arm around the girl’s small shoulders and gently coaxed her to walk.
“...Can’t I stay with you?” The girl hesitated as she held Eir’s hand.
“I’m afraid none of us can teach you about Nature magic. That’s Lady Isolde’s domain after all.” Eir smiled and squeezed her tiny hand.
“Then will I see you again?” There was an obvious note of hope in her voice.
“We’ll stop by occasionally, and when you’re older, you can come and find us whenever you want.” Eir answered.
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In a mine filled with undead workers, within the depths of the underground near the border of the Red Slate Republic and the Heroes’ Desert.
Deep beneath the earth, the undying ceaselessly scraped at the ground, some with tools, but most with their hands of bone and sinew. Behind them, several large men swallowed and gorged on the leftover dirt until their hollowed chest chambers could hold no more. With their bodies near bursting, they trudged towards the surface to deposit the earth they held within their bloated forms.
Near the surface, red-eyed undeads sifted through the piles of dirt, occasionally pulling out uncut gems and sorting them into bags and baskets, which were then loaded into wagons assembled from blackened deadwood and bones. Like a funeral procession, these wagons would slowly roll out from the encirclement of deadwood, a red-eyed undead seated at the fore.
This was the Necromancer Telsin’s digging operation that started months ago. Every few days, fresh bodies would be delivered to the fortress, some living, some dead, but many somewhere in between. They were from the slave traders that have done business with this necropolis, but few were those that managed, or even dared to glimpse within the deadwood walls.
There was one small shack within the entire fort, existing here before the mining expedition had begun, and the home of the Necromancer himself. Inside, orange light illuminated the dust-covered walls, illuminating hundreds and hundreds of old tomes and books. Neither food nor drink could be seen within, and even if there were any, it would no doubt be covered in mold and dust like the rest of the furniture in the room in the room.
A hooded figure sat hunched over in a corner of the room, poring over an old and cracked piece of parchment on the table. The names on the map were faded, and if they were to be mentioned today, none except the most studious of historians would know what they were. Several pins had been placed on the map in a jagged line, and if one were to go to these pins, they would find several abandoned mines, or if a few centuries had past, monster-inhabited dungeons.
“...No luck the past six times, yet based on the changes in geography we should be getting close…” A quiet muttering could be heard under the hood, before a withered hand pulled out another scroll and unraveled it, revealing a drawing of a heart shaped crystal and a vial.
“I’ve already obtained a heartstone, but this vial of liquid... “ He frowned and stared at the simple drawing. It was an action that he had repeated many, many times, yet he could simply not discern the contents within the vial. “Falette, it’s ironic that I have to find someone to find something, isn’t it?”
Suddenly, the man’s hand shook, and a tremor ran through his body. All of the undead he controlled halted momentarily, causing all sound in the mine to momentarily grind to a halt. He dropped the scroll, rolled back his head, and then laughed.
He had sensed a great deal of magical power beneath his feet. This time, he had finally found the tomb of the Dream Reader of the Lake.
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North of the Holy Land of Ecclisa, just past Gareth’s Bulwark.
“They’re just mindlessly prowling down there, but their numbers are steadily growing, sir. We should be launching another raid soon.”
“That’s impossible. Lady Geisla has warned us about a new type of Shadowless, a type that’s extremely dangerous and is on par with a common knight. Until we have more information, we can’t dispatch a mounted squadron. Just have the sharpshooters and mages deal with the larger ones. How is the Griffin and Pegasus squadrons doing?”
“They’re struggling, sir. Ten were injured in the last skirmish, but luckily, no lives were lost so far. They’ll be dispatching again in a few hours, with their second riders.”
“Good. Good. It’ll be best if we could get more aerial power, but keeping flying magical beasts is quite expensive… How’s morale?”
“Above average, sir. The men and women think Gareth’s Bulwark is infallible, our supply lines are providing us with excess. There were a few isolated incidents of infighting, however, the perpetrators were punished according to the rules by a few resident Enforcers.”
“Caused by anxiousness no doubt. It’s one thing to lift your sword into battle every so often then staring at your enemies day after day. How are the Mage Corps doing?”
“By day, they’ve been going out in front of the Bulwark to remove trees and flatten hills. Before dusk, they’ll go to the edge of the newly created flatland and set up torches. They’re not effective at keeping the Shadowless at bay, but they’re useful as warnings.”
“If they have time to be playing around with this pointless terraforming, I’d prefer them to be assisting the troops. Let their captain know. What’s the current status of the three factions?”
“I’ll pass on the message after this, sir. The Heavenly Sonata have been going on several diplomatic missions to the nearby countries. The Kingdom of Four Winds have already agreed to offer troop transportation via their ships, and the Kingdom of Macha has offered a percentage of their yearly harvest until the war is over. The Dew Plains is neutral.”
“The Templar Order has been massing and recruiting troops, we’ll be receiving reinforcements from the Keysta Peninsula, and some from the border guard next to the Ona Chaparrel.”
“The Devout Guild’s been working with the League of Adventurers, as well as managing supply lines. They have started to evacuate people far north of Ellivita, and for some reason, those that reside near the border of the Whitefrost Mountains as well.”
“Why are they-” Before the man could finish, another knight suddenly barged into room.
“Sir, sir! It’s an emergency! You have to come see this!”
On the Bulwark’s walls, facing north towards the Desolate Tundra.
“Is that… a castle descending from the skies?”