Fable - Ask Born with a King's Heart

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

The Spine

The ruins of an ancient city, its name long lost to time...

Crisp mountain air filled his lungs. Cold stone was at his back. His head felt light. His breath was heavy.

He was tired, but there was strength left in him. He was born for battle.​

It was twilight. Above, the stars were at their brightest. Both Lessat and Pneria were in the sky, and Erën found his eyes lost in the hues of the greater moon. They reminded him of home.

Home…?

A terrible roar cut through the night, and the sound of a great beast's wings pounded against the wind. These creatures had come several nights ago now, hidden by the wind and rain, and had attacked. He'd been alone, and before he could return for help, he was ensnared and carried away from there.​

What used to be his home at least. But it seemed that everything about that life was now lost to him. He had been forsaken. There had even once been a time when such distance was all he had ever craved. To be alone. But now that he experienced it... now that he knew it... and especially now, standing without any aid at his side.

But what had been worse than his expulsion, was that he had not realized the extent it would be taken to, and in truth could not understand. Not only had he been forsaken - he had been hunted.

He had been forced to kill his friends.

Te’leis… Aidathin…​

Though it had been in self defense, it still felt wrong. It felt like murder.

He felt the ground shake. Once. Then twice.

The monsters' feet found the ground. Their rumbling growls caused the stone around him to tremble. ​

And perhaps that had been his transgression. Perhaps they had known what would happen, what would take place. After what he had allowed himself to do. In the throws of desperation, he had forgone his long-held creed to the righteousness of his Order. He had invited into him a harbinger of darkness – called unto of its aid, drank of its deadly cup. Though it had been but only a breath in the vastness of his life, it had marked him. It reminded him, always, of his sin. It whispered to him…

There were reasons he could still trust himself, of course, but there were difficult truths to reconcile. But he persisted. There were still things he could live for. Things he wanted to live for. He just... did not know if he knew how. All he had known was the Sword. Perhaps… that was all he would ever know.

Perhaps, that is all he would ever be.

His eyes descended from the sky, bringing his mind back with them.

Another, roar.

The gnashing of gargantuan jaws. Closer now… closer… ​

He turned his head, but did not look around. He would have to act... they would soon be upon him.

Since the fight had began, their number had grown. While at first there had been two, and Erën had slain one of them, another two arrived. And again. Before long, nearly a dozen of the creatures hunted him throughout this long forgotten place.

He whirled out, and in a flash of light he bolted toward his foes. The first reared back its head, channeling a great blast of necrotic magic, and hurling its toxic breath toward him.

Erën failed to close the gap in time, and was forced to duck down a rather dissembled alleyway. Leaping over rubble and stone, he hurried to get some ground between them again. He heard their cries as they once more took to the air, and Erën hid under the cover of a dishevelled roof. Once more he put his back to the stone. Lying in wait.

But without his weapons, relying on the strength of this magic alone…

…he could only hold out for so long.

He felt once more the force of their great wings lift them into the air, to peer down and likely swoop down to ensnare him yet again. Elsewhere, a few more of the creatures lumbered around, swinging their necks and wings to and fro to smash into decrepit buildings. And again, he felt them drawing near.

He clenched his fist, magic welling therein.

Every move would count.

 

[Anur'Ephal]

Why do you resist...!

​

From atop a tall spire, he watched.

Wyverns were simple creatures. Their distant relation to dragons garnered them far more notoriety than they were worth. The mind of a dragon was difficult to unravel. Wyverns on the other hand, were little more than glorified serpents. He had these, and more at his disposal. Minions of destruction, nothing more.

And of course, Erën'thiel. If only he could comprehend what was taking place in these times. If only he knew the truth.

He watched his beasts attack, and take to the air once again. A shame they weren't a bit quicker, they might actually manage to capture him again. He had been caught unaware once, that opportunity was exhausted. But after several days of holding out, how much more could the Broken Sword withstand?

He knew he tired. He could feel it. With his mind, he reached out to him.

"Why must you fight the darkness, Erën.

You have to know it is the only path for you now..."

His voice travelled far, into the minds of all those near and far - willing or otherwise, the words crept in like a cool draft...
​

He stepped from atop his perch, descending gracefully to land on his toes, as though he weighed little more than a feather. He unsheathed his sword: a red blade, a ghastly thing. And he began into the ruined streets, a dark mist following after him.

​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"I think, after this, I want to go and have ice cream."

Caliane and Lazule had been tracking the creatures that had taken Erën for the last few days. It seemed cruel that fate conspired still against the three friends to allow them to not have more than a few hours of rest in between each challenge. At least this time they were starting in a healed state and apparently not with fissures through her body like the last time. Absentmindedly she rubbed at the skin on her arm as the descriptions of what she had looked like rose to the forefront of her mind. Still, it would have been nice if she could have slept properly. Not the Sleep the Soulfire had forced upon her or that Lazule had apparently wished she would disappear entirely into, but true sleep. That she had control of waking up from.

The admission of guilt from Lazule still sat oddly on Caliane's shoulders. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about learning a person she had thought was her friend, whom she had welcomed into her very soul, had wanted her to die. Even if it was for a split second. The fact the Soulfire had felt... curious about this notion unnerved her even more. She would never question its love of her but it clearly thought it was a consideration now. It was a strange feeling not feeling safe inside your own body.

Such things had to be pushed to the back of their minds however when Erën had been snatched by malicious beasts. Wyverns were not uncommon in the Spine but it was uncommon for them to not just kill their meal straight away. These things had gone through effort to take him somewhere but where? It was that question and the need to find their friend which had set Caliane and Lazule once again on the path of unintentional heroics.

Caliane had been examining some broken branches near the tops of a tree before she had dropped down beside Lazule with a scale between her fingers and announced her desires for ice cream.

"I have no idea what it is but I heard a young child talking about it and I think it is something we deserve after this. Have you ever had it before?"

 

[Lazule]

Their task was clear.

Find Erën. And kill who or what took him.

Caliane had mentioned that the wyverns, the monsters ostensibly responsible for this, did not normally take their prey. That they vastly preferred to consume them where they had caught them. While it was fortunate that this did not happen to Erën, this apparent fortune was deceptive: it stood to reason that there was a probability that the wyverns had acted unnaturally under the bidding of someone or something else. This was the wickedness that Lazule sought to slay.

As did Caliane, he surmised. Erën was the primary objective: their friend, their brother-in-arms. But Caliane was as Lazule in spirit, admittedly so from back in the Gilded Vale when first they met. She was a Hunter. He was a Hunter. And they both were Slayers. For Lazule, this was the source of his joy. His purpose for being.

Yet not all had been well between them, Caliane and Lazule. For a time after the slaying of the Amalgamation, Lazule had been harbored safely within Caliane's body--for he was not a man, and not a woman either, as his previous body had been, but a Life Fire. And during this time in Caliane's body, he came into contact with a spirit of fire housed within: the Soulfire. Hers, Lazule observed, but a separate being. A kind of symbiotic relationship. And in his weakness and desire to know another of his kind, another sapient flame, one being in all of Arethil who was truly like him...he had wished, selfishly, for Caliane to die, such that the Soulfire could take over.

He had apologized for these thoughts back at the Gilded Vale. And now, with this confession done, Lazule was absolutely comfortable to be in Caliane's presence. He was not perturbed at all about anything anymore. She was not a monster: this was resolved. And he had admitted his guilt: this was likewise resolved.

To Lazule, everything was made congruous again. He was the Hunter, she was the Hunter. He was the Slayer, she was the Slayer. And, in this case, there was nothing but that.

And they searched for Erën, who was the same, their kindred spirit of battle and righteous violence.

Lazule's strange feet--the pronged ends of the armored suit--pressed into the freshly fallen snow of the mountain. There was a landmark, a city perhaps, abandoned or otherwise, in the distance. And Caliane had found another trace of the wyverns, which she held between her fingers.

And she mentioned...ice cream.

Lazule turned his head, the visor of his helm, toward her. Said, "I am aware of this. It is a dessert, fabricated from the milk of a cow or similar domesticated animal and processed by a mage talented in frost magic. The frost magic is a necessary component. It is the inverse of most foods: meant to be eaten cold."

A pause. Then, in the manner of someone who finally "got it":

"Oh. Hence the name."

Another pause. And Lazule felt the need to clarify:

"Elbion was a place of many insights for me. It was my first experience of the world outside of Father's Tower."

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Not just a Broken Sword

Caliane Ruinë | Lazule ​

Thud... thud... thud...​

Quietly, he breathed. He'd shut his eyes. In the shadow of the wreckage he'd taken shelter in, there was little for him to seen anyway. Instead, he listened. He felt.

Above, their were four... no five. Two directly above, the others.. spread wider.

Seven on the ground. Three were farther off... moving away it seemed. Curious.

Two were on the other side of the city, and two were drawing closer to him.

He knelt, feeling the snow under his palm. It crunched under his knee. He hung his head.

...thud...thud...thud.
​

They were nearly upon him, and just prior to his mark did one of the beasts drive its hind into the side of the building, causing it to collapse. He darted from beneath, a great light forming.

Above, a cloudless thunder boomed.

He leapt up toward the wyvern, drawing his hand back into a point and then striking out at the creature, driving his hand up through the underside of its jaw. He grabbed onto what he could only assume was it's jugular, or perhaps another vein he was unaware of - and channeled his might through it.

Light split the sky as it crashed down into the being, and its mass was forced to the ground in a writhing heap. Erën wrenched his hand free, managed a narrow escape from being crushed by its size. The second beast lashed out at him. He leapt backward, and drew his arm up with his open palm out, and the Pillar of Tychan broke up from beneath the ground and blocked the wyvern's way. Its head smashed squarely into the shield like a robin would flying into a closed window.

A wretched scream came from it as its head flew back and reached into the air, and Erën fled, leaving the Pillar to shatter like glass.

He darted out into the street to be met with a hard punch to his jaw, and he fell to the ground and rolled to a violent halt against a pile of rubble.

To his knees, Erën turned to see. He paused, allowing a moment to reclaim his breath as he beheld the figure before him.

"Anur'Ephal…" he muttered, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, "...you will not have your prize.

You will not have your willing sacrifice."

"A will, whole,

or broken,

will do."​

 

[Anur'Ephal]

It is time.

​

Anur'Ephal looked at Erën. There was a gleam in his eyes. A smile on his face. Behind him, one wyvern touched down with a shake. And then beside it, another. To Erën's flank, a third one appeared. Each of them stared at him, their mouths hung open, dripping a wretched stench.

"A will, whole,

or broken,

will do."
​

Anur took a step forward. In one hand he held his blade, which burned with the darkness of his being. It was palpable around him, and even the snow that merely grazed his presence turned black. The whole world around him seemed to warp and bend, and his eyes were as black as the darkest abyss. He stared at the Sword of the Order, such as he was now. Some several meters ahead of him, he paused, and lifted his free hand. A dark shadow took shape there just above his open palm.

It coalesced, and the sword - the one Erën had taken from Aidathin after slaying him, appeared. A dark aura was about it, and streaks of red light shot out from it sporadically.

"Take up your blade, First.

Bring justice.

Bring Order.

Strike me down."

If you can...

​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"It sounds..." magical was what she wanted to say but she believed Lazule would agree on the merit it was created with magic so instead she sought a better word to describe the excitement such a notion brought her. "Like an experience to try." She held the scale up to the dimming light and then to her nose. As people often forgot with her demeanor and her nativity when it came to the world, Caliane was an expert Hunter. They were still a few days behind the beasts which had been able to travel on the wing but Cali had been unable to do such a journey with the added weight of Lazule for that many miles so they had been forced to walk.

"I haven't been to Elbion yet," she admitted as they walked. The scent from the scale was on the air; they were getting closer. Her wings trembled with the desire to fly to the city they could see now. She was faster in the air, built for it, but she wouldn't throw herself into danger without back-up. So instead she forced herself to focus on the conversation. In a way Cali was completing a similar journey to Lazule: discovering the world out from under the thumb of a parental figure.

She was about to point out the humerous similarity when the ominous boom sounded from above the city. Cali stopped for a beat then glanced to Lazule.

"Do you think you can run?" Her gaze flicked now to the unusual feet.

 

[Lazule]

Lazule's helm turned the crashing boom. The sky was suggestive of a storm, but that was not thunder. There had been light, but it was not lightning. A tiny reflection of it in the golden metal of his visor.

Lazule looked back to Caliane then. There was a familiarity to that light, that boom. Erën. Lazule had witnessed and heard similar--if not the exact same--in Bhathairk. Had done so with Caliane's eyes and Caliane's ears. And here it was again. If these wyverns had taken Erën, they had not done so without him extricating himself at least momentarily from their grasp to fight back.

Do you think you can run?

It was a long way to the city in the distance. That bastion of structures among the undulating hills and the vast and distant peaks of the Spine beyond.

Lazule said, "Ineptness is the first step to adeptness."

His error rate at walking with the unusual feet was close, but not equal, to zero percent. Stairs were a circumstance that produced more incidents, still. But walking on ground, uneven ground included, was very manageable. He even believed that he had acquired some insights about the feet, their purpose for the odd design: they could dig into the dirt very effectively. Brace well. Be utilized as makeshift weapons with more lethality than a standard foot or armored sabaton.

But now he would test the unfamiliar: the motions of running with the experimental feet of the suit.

Lazule prepared himself.

Then took off at great speed. Nothing superhuman, but frighteningly fast for a man of such stature in a suit of armor. His arms pumped vigorously as did his legs, and he found it to be easier--

A slight stumble. A recovery. He kept running.

Easier than he thought. This conclusion still applied.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën turned and faced Anur. Met his gaze. There was a depth in this elf's eyes now... it dove much farther than Erën had seen before, when Zeng had instructed him, and used him. The blackness he saw was beyond what had been, and he wondered if there was any bit of his former friend that remained.

A startling realization. He too wondered that of himself.

He frowned at the sight of the sword. It was nothing but a weapon... no. Erën knew better. The corrupted Shorai, he had seen it before. The things the elf Ril'thilian had accomplished with its sinister evil had been terrible. Horrifying.

"How can you not see after all that had been shown?"
​

"What?"

Anur'Ephal took a step forward, his smile broadening.

"Did you not feel it? Did you not see?

When you looked. Into. Her eyes."
​

Erën knew what he meant, at least partly. It had been morso than those others. More than Elan. More than Alyssa. More than Ellias even... yes. Te'leis... in those final moments - he saw it in her eyes. It was fearful, but it was bliss. Like she had been released from some torturous curse. But other than that he did not truly know. He'd looked into the eyes of other fallen kin, but none had struck him quite as much as then - by his hand.

"You cannot know what you have spared them from. You too can-"
​

"Enough!" Erën declared.

 

[Anur'Ephal]

His smile vanished. Erën's anger was provoked, and he looked on as light enveloped him. Lightning stretched out from his body, thrashing around wildly. Anur saw his righteousness in it, and he scowled.

A shame... I thought you'd done away with that.​

But truly, he was far more pleased with each passing moment. Erën wasn't so different - he was still a capable warrior. Even stronger than last they'd met... but hardly strong enough. He'd managed to slay only two out of his many wyverns in all this while. It left him, somewhat disappointed. Perhaps if he was armed then he would prove more challenging.

He beckoned to his wyverns, and those he had not assigned another duty turned their attention toward him. And soon, they too would draw near to likewise take up a careful watch.

"Come now. A friendly match.

Like old times."
​

Then he flicked his wrist, and the sword he'd summoned forth plunged itself into the ground just before Erën.

One remained on the ground, another two took flight. There was a stirring in the distance - percieved by magics that guarded these lands. They served only to alert those who dwelt within, and soon their senses found prey. Coming toward them.

In tandem the wyvern's roared, the two in the sky spreading wide as the third leapt up high into the air, then swooped down at Lazule barring its talons toward him like a bird of prey.

Caliane Ruinë Lazule

​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

A wave of snow hit Caliane in the face as Lazule propelled himself forward with a surprising amount of speed. She had expected it to go about as well as a baby deer learning how to walk, not like a roadrunner in its prime. The redhead slowly wiped the dirty snow from her face. At least that was one question about the body answered. Turning her attention now to the sky she spread her wings and tested the feel of them. This would be the first time she had actually flown since she had Fallen. A wave of panic hit her of the fear and the pain and the darkness but she forced it down. Instead she took a deep breath, bent her knees, and then propelled herself into the sky.

It was not the most elegant of take offs and she wobbled before her wings seemed to remember how this worked. With two more beats she rose high into the sky and then plateaued out on a stronger current, keeping an eye on Lazule from her position in the sky. As they made their way her confidence grew and she increased the speed at which she flew so that she matched the speed at which he ran. A familiar warmth began to spread down her wings and Caliane realised with a start the Soulfire had crept into the feathers of her wings turning them to white fire.

Her position in the sky meant her attention was already on the wyvern she could see in the skies ahead but then one of the beasts hurtled from the cloud line down towards Lazule inches from her face.

"Lazule!" Caliane only had a second to give her friend a warning before drawing her own sword and diving after it.

 

[Lazule]

Another stumble. This one in the manner of Lazule's upper body leaning forward and his arms desperately swimming through the air in an effort to regain balance. And, just barely, he did. Lazule was cognizant that a normal human would have considered this slip to be embarrassing. Lazule did not. Lazule considered it progress.

And he kept running. Down one slope. Up another. Around this tree and through this gap between two others. Even a small hop over a fallen log. A hop that resulted in a more catastrophic stumble, bringing Lazule down to one knee and both hands on the ground, but it was not a full collapse. Lazule was back up and running again momentarily, and now he retained some insight on how to better position his feet upon landing at such speeds.

He was...beginning to find the running invigorating. Like the eager rising to a challenge. He felt good, testing the capabilities of his new body and the suit of armor that it was encased within. This body and its associated suit did not function in the way Lena's body had, as all humans did. Where Lena's body had required food and drink for sustenance and energy, this body did not. This body did not tire in the same manner as Lena's body, which positively would have begun entering the process of fatigue at this point. This body and its suit of armor, was a different experience altogether. And it was intriguing.

Lazule!

Caliane. From above. Calling his name. The acronym of the six.

Lazule looked up.

Yes. A wyvern. And here, the first of the six would have her due Retribution. And Father's heart, encased within the chamber inside the armor along with the Life Fire of Lazule himself, would bear silent witness.

Lazule skidded to a stop, kicking up a wave of dirt and uprooting grass as the prongs of his feet dug into the ground. The cloth streamers of his armor flapped forward briefly at the moment of the stop, like the similar streamers of a battle standard waving in the wind, then fluttered back down.

"They must all be destroyed," Lazule said.

He held up his right hand, swept his left from back to front, and so conjured a Javelin of Light. Clouds choked the sky and the sun, so it would not be as powerful as it could have been. A wondering, briefly, if he could figure out a way to use the suit's stored power to augment his Luminomancy in cases such as this.

Lazule gave the Javelin a mighty throw and it whistled sharply up and blew off one of the wyvern's wings. Adequate. The monster gave a shriek and spiraled down and out of control and came to crash on the ground, sliding to a stop before Lazule's pronged feet.

The creature squirmed. The fall had not killed it.

Lazule lifted his hand and aimed at the creature's head and light gathered and whined in his palm and he loosed point blank a vicious series of Needles forged from said light into the wyvern's skull until the greater portion of it was a liquified streak across the snow.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[Anur'Ephal]

Anur'Ephal was once Arbiter of the Sharyrdian Order. For lack of a better description, this made him the singular most influential individual in all of the Order. His affluence throughout the Soul Forge was unmatched. There was nothing about it he failed to comprehend - or at least that was what he professed at one time. And still, he would maintain that his understanding of it was complete.

A supposition dismissed following the Eventide, being labeled a traitor in its wake.

Yws, he had betrayed the Order, but only after the Order had betrayed them all.

Fools. None of them had seen what he had seen that day, and even before. The things he had tried to prevent! Perhaps now, however, Erën would finally see. He had been liberated.

A gift.
​

Suddenly, his attention was split. He turned his head, his conciousness reaching to those of his distant minions. He percieved one's injury, and subsequent demise - but he could not determi-

Light bearer.

The one known as Lazule, whom he had confronted before had proven to be quite... irritating. But, after the rigorous training and study he'd subjected himself to, he hoped to mitigate the powers of Erën's new friend - whomever this new light weaver was.

Another.

Ahh... an Avariel... how, interesting.
​

His assessment of the encroaching intruders however was cut short. A light flashed in his peripheral, and he turned to see.

Lazule's prey let out a grevious cry with its final breath before falling limp. A second however, screeched out in anger and from its maw spewed its toxic breath. The third, whirled up and around and descended upon the winged elf, gnashing at her with its razor teeth.

Caliane Ruinë | Lazule​

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën's frowned deepened at the sight of the sword, its hilt beckoning for his grasp. It gently shook, and the dark energies around it felt cold. His eyes rose back to Anur. The sight of the elf pained him: once, he had been a good friend. A good mentor.

But those days were long gone, and there was nothing but darkness between them now.

Anur's head turned, his attention divided.

Erën hesitated. The sword tempted him, he knew with it he could wield his strengths far more effectively... but now that it had been tainted...

He chose.

In a burst of light he moved forward, tearing the sword free. Red clashed with blue, and purple cracked in his hand. He drew the sword up, and struck.

Steel met steel, and their energies flashed between them, wracking the ground beneath their feet. The nearby wyverns stirred, but remained still. Poised.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

As Lazule looked up and took aim Caliane snapped open her wings and let the air that collected under them push her back up and into another air current. Once she was higher Cali dipped the red tipped wings towards the right and sharply down towards the ground so that they carried her back around in a tight circle to ensure that Lazule truly had the situation under control. She had absolutely no doubt in her friends abilities - especially now she had felt for herself the power of the light javelins. No, she was waiting for the two beasts she had seen approaching earlier. No doubt they would be driven on by seeing their kin die and would come for Lazule once more so it seemed the best use of her own talents to act as a first defence whilst he dealt with the creature on the ground.

Sure enough as the beast let out its final cry the other two plunged from the heavens. As the toxic gas came forth Cali did not pause in her slow lazy circles. Rather she sped up until her white fire wings were all that could be seen. The speed sucked the toxic gas down into the wind she churned up until she suddenly stopped and snapped open her wings of white fire and burnt the last tendrils of toxins that remained. Her defence against the gases had meant the first one had bypassed her entirely, heading for Lazule, but its fellow marked her and dove.

Caliane brought her sword up from hip to shoulder to catch the creature on the underside of the jaw as it sought to sink its teeth in to her flesh. It screeched and twisted in the air and the Avariel moved with it in one fluid movement in a tangle of feather and scale. She could feel the Soulfires eagerness and she couldn't claw it back as the fire ball formed in her hand and grew.

"Don't-" The fire launched down the creatures throat though who was more surprised it or her, she wasn't sure. Given the toxic qualities of the wyvern there was only going to be one result in this attack. Cali didn't waste the fact the beast was distracted and drove her dagger up through the beasts jaw to jam it shut before she brought her wings up and around herself. Fissures that had wracked her own body appeared down the creatures scaly hide and they grew and grew until the body exploded outwards.

 

[Lazule]

There was a saying that Lazule had grown aware of during his time spent among others. Particularly among other warriors, Monster Hunters, the occasional mercenary, the like. It was the saying: "I have your back."

Like many sayings, this made no sense by the literal arrangement and meanings of the words themselves. This was usually why sayings and idioms caused remarkable trouble for Lazule, and hindered--at least initially--his understanding. "Piece of cake", which was to way to describe a task that was easy or trivially accomplished, had been the most notorious to date. No, that is not a piece of cake, that is an ogre that needs to be slain, and hence some avoidable awkwardness. There were a number of similar sayings and idioms whose meaning was not immediately, or even marginally, obvious.

This was not the case with "I have your back." This saying, and the meaning behind it, Lazule had deduced within seconds upon first hearing a fellow Hunter speak it. It communicated both an assurance and tactical information in four words. Sometimes, the words need not even be said; their meaning, their spirit, could be conveyed through action.

As Caliane had done now.

She in a blurring dash of winged flight caused a vortex of air to divert the toxic breath of another wyvern. She had Lazule's back.

And now, that same wyvern plunged from the sky down toward Lazule as another assailed Caliane in the air. They would be made to fight on their own, but so would the wyverns.

Lazule braced as the wyvern's open maw came down upon him. He held his left hand up defensively, for this wyvern was too close to risk a Javelin and Needles would not be enough to stop it in time.

A new insight was discovered then. Memory, sparked from the Unknown Warrior. His time of being alive, of being a Templar, of fighting. A visceral feel for what it was to fight with a shield in one hand and weapon in the other.

And before Lazule, attached to his left arm, the Shield of Light manifested. A shimmering tower shield, wide and oval and the height of Lazule's armored suit itself, translucent near its top and bottom and bright white near its center. It was not heavy, this manifested Shield, but it retained a certain adamant solidity.

The wyvern crashed into the Shield, and Lazule's pronged feet slid back and deeper into the dirt, but he did not falter. He bashed the side of the wyvern's large muzzle, shattering some of its exposed teeth. The wyvern snapped back and clamped down on Lazule's right arm. Held savagely onto the armor of it.

Lazule punched the rim of the Shield into the wyvern's head. Still the wyvern held. Lazule punched the Shield again and again and with each bash cut a trench-like wound deeper and deeper through the tough scaled hide of the beast. He kept punching with his Shield until the beast--its jaws still locked in a morbid vice around his right arm--perished with weaker and weaker shudders.

Lazule kept on punching. Using the right side of the Shield's rim and then its bottom. Kept going until, like a wood-hewing axe finally biting through a thick trunk, he had severed the head completely from the rest of the body.

The Shield dissipated and Lazule extracted his right arm from the beast's maw. Tilted his head back.

Said, "Recompense."

And imagined Father smiling.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

There was none of the elven grace each of their blood had inherited. There was no dance of skill and tact, no song sung of well met steel.

This was rage. This was pure.

With each strike he poured his pain, his hate. But grief, too - that yet another of his kin would meet him like this. Split between the two, he both wanted but could not relent. Anur was evil. He had to die.

With a clang the fallen elf retreated, surrendering ground between the two.

Erën's feet fell hard as he stomped forth, following closely after. But his percision had been lost, and with a wild swing his blade tore the ground, and as it came up Anur's once more clashed with his, and stayed him.

"You must realize by now you are too weak."​

Erën felt Anur's palm rest gently against his chest. In the shock he failed to react.

It felt like at first his heart had been torn from him and sent several meters behind, followed by his body, and then his limbs, all smashing back together as he rolled across the ground, kicking up a plume of dust.

Erën emerged from the dust, blade in hand, maintaining a steady approach. He brandished his sword, and then leapt toward Anur once again.

 

[Anur'Ephal]

A horrid laugh escaped him as Erën was sent into an unceremonious sprawl across the ground likeva discarded doll. With the tip of his chin, three more wyverns began to stir. They abandoned their vigil, and started toward the two intruders.

"How does it feel to be the weakest link?"
​

Erën attacked, and Anur parried his blow, sliding his blade along his and then forcing it up. An elbow followed. Erën stumbled back, his brow split.

"Join with me Erën. You can be made strong,

and the Ancient Dweller will rise into our service.

And we can save our people,

from Arethil's Answer."
​

That grabbed his attention.

​

Three more stirred, beckoned to their calling. Their heads turned, and they began to stomp their way through the ruin. By their master's will, they refrained from flight, hopeful to use the derelict structures and cover of dark to skew their enemys' tactics. To draw the Avariel down, and catch the light weaver unawares from the shadows.

While of course he had been unarmed, (for his amusement no less) it had proved troublesome for Erën to fight amongst these ruins with them. Perhaps for these newcomers too.

Caliane Ruinë | Lazule​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"Is it going to be like this... every time now?"

The Soulfire cackled but slunk back into the shadows of her mind. At least it had burnt the creature entirely into ash this time so there was not bits of blood marring her skin as of yet. The fight was young and that could still be a foreseeable consequence of the challenges to come. What was unnerving her more was the way her magic could apparently now work independently whether she wanted it to or not. For a moment she hung there in the sky as ash fell to the Earth then she shook herself and landed beside Lazule. Her wings were still ablaze and there was nowt she could do about it so she ensured to keep her distance from her friend just in case. Cali was almost entirely certain it would not hurt him, the Soulfire had recognised him as ... kin? ... but she didn't want to take chances.

Cali turned her face in the direction of the city which was at least closer now, they were almost in the shadow of its walls and the sounds of metal reached them on the winds that blew their way. It whipped her red hair about her face and she narrowed her eyes then eventually turned her face against it.

"I'll keep to the skies, I should be able to give you a better warning if I see any danger from up there," she had to raise her voice a little over the wind but she paused before taking to the air once more. "Be careful," and then she was airborne again. She circled wide over head once then motioned that as far as she could see all was clear before her wings carried her over the outer city walls and towards the sounds of fighting.

 

[Lazule]

Lazule examined briefly the potential damage to his right arm. Not much. The living stone and the metal had held, and the stone would regenerate when next he had a chance to rest and replenish and bask in the light in the sun.

Caliane landed beside him. There were no more wyverns--yet. The ruined city remained.

I'll keep to the skies...

"Advantageous," Lazule agreed.

Be careful.

"As do you."

Lazule started off in his run again. Made it within the city perimeter with a minimal amount of errors from his pronged feet.

* * * * *​

It seemed a skeleton of a city. Stripped down. Emaciated. Gaunt stone structures hinting at once was, choked with persistent snow. A wasting away of a place fathers once raised sons, mothers once raised daughters. Tragedy and time had conspired to smudge this place not only off of the maps of the Spine, but even now worked tirelessly to do the very same to the city proper: a merciless erasure by excruciatingly small degrees from the face of Arethil.

And it was here that Lazule stalked through the "streets," as it were, for they could only be called such by virtue of being the void space between the disfigured ruinations of past homes and other structures.

The ground was tiered. Terraced. Some of these terraces had crumbled and the land had spilled out into small hills of dirt and snow. Stairs, as well, leading from one terrace to the next, their edges rounded and blunted through erosion and the accumulated snow making them more akin to ramps.

Lazule ascended one such set of stairs. From one terrace to another. Cautiously walking. The sounds of battle--clashing swords--was not far off. Only removed by another terrace and a few more collections of bygone buildings.

Lazule reached the top of the set of stairs.

And immediately from around the broken wall of a larger building, a church perhaps, a wyvern's snake-like neck slithered out and its maw snapped down on Lazule's left hand--he could not pull away fast enough--and dragged him inside.

Dim. Very dim "inside" the church, even though its room was partially collapsed and the back wall was naught but rubble. The sun, choked by clouds above, was further blocked by the stones of the church still standing.

And this did not bode well for Lazule. There was scant ambient light to draw from here.

He pulled his hand free of the wyvern's maw. Managed to coalesce enough light for a Flashbang. But the light wasn't as blinding as it could have been, the sound not nearly as deafening as he needed it to be. The wyvern was only mildly disoriented, and this did not stop it from thrashing its head and neck and slamming Lazule down on the ground.

It plunged its head down for a semi-blinded bite. Lazule was able to grab its top and bottom jaws. Held the wyvern at bay for a precious moment from securing its teeth around his waist.

Caliane Ruinë Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Back and forth they fought. When ground was lost, footing was changed and one would whirl around the other. Anur got behind him, and Erën channeled his Celestial Strike into a burst of energy around him, forcing the former Arbiter to flee. Erën turned, and looked upon him as he leapt farther and farther away, coming to the top of a particularily larger building.

Meanwhile, Erën chased him. The wyverns now took after him, but he ignored them for the moment. He leapt atop a broken wall, ascending it like stairs. Another jump took him to atop a pillar, and a final leap took him up onto the top of a building - resembling a church. There at its top he slashed at Anur, who blocked him and leapt down inside. Erën's eyes followed. As his eyes tracked, they fell upon a peculiar sight - a strange looking wyvern.

!?
​

He eyes raced back, closer examination showing him it was in fact: Lazule, just narrowly staving off a wyvern's vicious jaws. He descended, and before his feet even met the floor they touched off the stone to his back and he was hurled toward Lazule. He spun though the air, his aura flashing brightly around him as like a bolt of lightning he hurled by, severing the wyvern's head - so quick, the fiend did not quite even realize at first before crumpling atop the armoured warrior. Lifeless.

But just as quickly as he'd intervened did yet another streak of light appear - red as blood. It struck against Erën, who met it with his sword and split it harmlessly to either side, striking the wall behind him and compromising its remaining integrity. But still, it stood.

Erën began forward, stepping near to Lazule and rounding him as he climbed back up, his sword held hanging right. His eyes were fixed upon Anur. His greeting to Lazule was the focus on the battle at hand - maintaining his vigilance. Having his back.

The wyvern's that had followed dropped down alongside their master, snapping and biting at them from afar. But... their number was not complete. Erën had guessed it during his prolonged quarrel with them... there were still two missing.

As the thought came to mind, one shadow, and then another passed by overhead, followed by the horrid harmonic of their united screeching. They were upon whomever it was they sought outside.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Hailing from the Spine meant that the ruins of a city barely touched upon her consciousness anymore. There were many reasons that people abandoned their homes in these lands now; the monsters, the climate, the fear. The latter usually owing to the first two of course but sometimes it was a fear born from a relative constantly reminding them of the dangers of points a and b that would create point c and fester inside the minds of inhabitants until they packed their bags and left. Either way, it meant that she did not give it much pause to consider what the reasons were behind the city laying in the state of decay it currently found itself in.

Her attention was split between tracking just ahead of Lazule's movements but also on the skyline. There was an unease stirring in her belly that none of the wyverns had met them the moment her wings had darkened the streets below. Territorial wars for the skies were probably more common than most Groundlings thought they were. Not many beasts used the sky and because many were used to open endless freedom it was an almost natural thing to mistrust and fight others which sought to clog up that freedom with their own wings. Wyverns were such beasts of the skies, like their cousins. She would have expected her arrival to cause more of a stir.

Every now and then she would signal to go this way of that way through the city to avoid a slumbering beast there or what looked like a potential trap over there. She had not even thought the creatures would be inside the building so it came as much a shock to Caliane as Lazule when the beast reached out and yanked him inside. With a curse she went to angle her wings down to offer aid when her mistake of losing focus on the skies came back to bite her.

The wyvern launched itself at her from the rooftop of a building opposite to Lazule's. It had waited for the opportune moment; for Caliane to be distracted enough that it could weave its way out into the open and pounce. The beast hit her in the side and scrambled for purchase on her slender form. But it was used to fighting its own kind in the air and not hers. It suffered similarly to how its brethren did. The only advantage it had in this case was it had caught her off guard and trapped her wing between its scaly hide and her own torso whilst it tried to tear at her. One claw found its mark and tore through her leather armour from her left ribcage to her right hip before the creature began to howl itself in agony. The wing it had pinned against itself became its own undoing as it turned from warm to the scorching inferno of the sun. Many believed wyverns and dragons to be immune to fire but it was often the case they merely had an extremely high tolerance to it.

Which was a testament to just how hot Caliane burned in that moment.

It let her go with a hiss, steam rolling off of it. The Avariel tumbled for a moment like a child rolling down a hill before she managed to snap open her wings and take wing across the city. The beast gave a snarling howl of rage and aid before it shot off after her. It became a test of flight as they weaved like dancers through the ruins of the city. Her smaller size offered her chances here and there to cause them some harm as they were forced to attempt to follow her and raze more of the city to the ground or lose her.

But this couldn't go on forever. She would need to take a stand.

 

[Lazule]

Lazule seized the opportunity as it presented itself: the light which flashed like lightning inside the church, the same light which preceded the severing of the wyvern's head. He brought some of it (most had escaped) to coalesce about his armored hands. Had he been aware of its coming, he would have been able to coalesce more.

The wyvern's body crumpled, its severed head delayed as Lazule held firm to its jaws. He tossed the head aside, and was about to stand--

When another flash of light (this one red) came and there another opportunity. Lazule was more prepared this time, and coalesced more light about his hands, capturing it for his use. The energy which gave off the light was deflected violently by none other than--

"Erën," Lazule said, finding his feet then.

Erën had his sword held at a guard, and Lazule saw then his Foe: an elf, similar in appearance in some qualities to Erën himself. Here, they knew their enemy. Here, the monster stood before them. Here, righteousness would be served.

Lazule had enough gathered light about his hands to manifest a Javelin of Light. He held the Javelin up, ready to throw, the magic of his Luminomancy humming in his upheld hand.

The Foe was the target. The wyverns behind him still to be destroyed, but of lower priority. If Lazule got an opportunity, such that his Javelin would not be so easily deflected or dodged, then he would throw it at the Foe. It would be up to Erën, or perhaps Caliane. Else, a wyvern dispatched by the Javelin would be adequate.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[VigiloConfido]

Mother had been right all along.

Anima had feared the divine. The sheer immensity of It. The grandness that outshone the love and pain and hope and sorrow of the world and reduced it to the infinitesimally small. But she did not realize, that in so being rendered insignificant against the collosal grandeur of the Great, the divine, yes, in Its enormous capacity there existed the love and pain and hope and sorrow of all time. From Arethil's most nascent days to its inevitable end, for what was, what is, and what will be were all contained within the Things which stood apart from time.

The true horror was not Anima's perceived insignificance, no, it would have been knowing that this, this brief and finite flicker of flame called life, wherein was contained everything she knew and everything she had ever felt, was it. That it was this and nothing more. That she could not be made part of a greater whole, JOIN in its grandeur.

Yes. That was true insignificance. That was true horror.

And she had been.

Made part of that greater whole. Briefly. A taste. A fleeting basking. This...while she was nestled inside the heart of the Amalgamation. The Beast formed from Its liver. The Beast tirelessly summoned centuries ago to Arethil and who had awaited a vessel to be reformed around. And Mother had brought her, unwilling as she was, to this. And Anima, once inside the beating heart of the Beast, could taste all of the emotions (the love, the pain, the hope, the sorrow) of those who had been sacrificed during that centuries-old summoning.

The grandeur was undeniable. And Anima craved more.

And to this end? Chaos.

Chaos, small or large, always produced the most potent emotions. While Mother (having freed her from Bhathairk) worked on her loving plan, Anima would feast.

And this is what brought Anima here.

To this ruined city.

Which housed the elf Anur'Ephal. Him, and his acolytes. The face of one such acolyte she now wore, and through her dark sorcery had become this acolyte in form. A hooded female assassin, with silver hair and curved blades. She sought to assist him, Anur, for she knew that he was planning something delightful. The exact manner of this plan, the hooded assassin's memories and emotions could not tell her.

Or perhaps she would not assist him. Perhaps his emotion, that of his failure, would be more succulent to bask in.

Anima waited in the shadow of an adjacent building to the Church, gripping the curved steel blades once belonging to the hooded assassin, pressed discreetly against the wall. Anur was fighting two men inside, and a winged woman flew about outside.

A familiarity. Here. Somewhere. Lost in the massive cascade of euphoric bliss and basking while inside the Amalgamation.

 

[Anur'Ephal]

Narrow eyes watched the light weaver stand, Erën coming round between the two while the carcass of his beast was discarded. Several more dropped down at either side, but he stayed them for a moment. He examined the two in front of them, brandishing their weapons of light and steel.

And like a preacher from his pulpit he began, "defiantly, you stand against the truth,"

The wave of his hand, and one beast lunged forth, "with false righteousness in your hearts,"

Another wave, another beast, "but all will be made perfect. The unworthy will be swept aside,"

Then he spread his arms wide, and with a leap backward the rest moved forward to attack, and then he leapt one final time back atop the wall with a laugh. And then he descended down into the street, disappearing from their view.

He would not be going far, and where he went his apprentices would join him. At the center of town. There the ritual would begin.

And in the end, Erën.

We may all truly be,

one.​

Though injured, the wyvern chased after Caliane with intent. Its companion nipped at its tail as they followed. Weaving through this structure and then around another the two eventually split up. Now, the one sought to harm her with its toxic breath, but her speed proved too much for it. It reared to follow through an alley, and flew dead into a toppled statue.

The second came from her flank, having ducked down far to avoid being seen it leapt back up from below and tried to bite at the winged elf's leg.