Fable - Ask Born with a King's Heart

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The sword plunged into his chest and for a moment she thought this would all be over quicker than she thought. Shock registered on his face and even pain as his hands came up to grip the weapon. The light from the flame that rippled down the blade began to push outwards through his body seeking to splinter him from the inside out. But then that smirk and he caught her gaze and held it before disappearing in those shadowy wisps of his. Frustration rearranged her features as her sword suddenly had no pressure against it and she stumbled forward half a step, whirling round to keep him in her sight.

Which is when she saw Erën and Lazule arrive. Relief flooded through her; they were both ok. Her happiness was short lived when the earth beneath her feet began to groan and then crack inwards. She gave a small yelp of shock as the ground beneath her feet disappeared but a few beats of her wings and she was airborne.

Which was good because so was Anur'Ephal.

As soon as he moved there to avoid the strike from Erën Caliane threw a stream of fiery shards towards him. Each one was condensed fire refined into a sharp point and would tear holes through any bit of skin it touched.
 
Lazule did not have the capacity to jump that Erën possessed. So he had to skirt around the ruined wall. Detour until he reached a suitable opening.

And when he did, he took an assessment of what he saw: the Foe's ritual underway, the death of four of his acolytes (one from Erën, three unknown), and Caliane running Anur through. This proved insufficient; the Foe simply became as smoke and gained distance and reformed on the top of a great arch in the square.

Erën leapt and struck at Anur. Also insufficient.

But he was clear of the line of fire.

Literal fire, in Caliane's case. She unleashed shards of the same at him. And Lazule would join with her, the coalesced light whining shrilly in both of his palms as he thrust them forward and let loose a rapid-fire stream of Light-forged Needles at the Foe as well. Anticipating lateral or vertical movement from the Foe, Lazule did not fire the Needles straight on, as Caliane did; he sprayed them above and below, to the left and right, attempting to saturate the air around Anur with as many deadly projectiles as possible.

The Ancient Dweller had been made to sleep once before.

So shall it be again.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë
 
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Reactions: Anur'Ephal
Erën landed on his knee, slamming hard down from the blowback of his attack. He threw his head up to see Anur hurling into the air. But very shortly, Caliane was upon him. In the air he was sorely outmatched, and had no choice but to attempt to flee.

Quickly, he again disintegrated into smoke. The needles of Caliane's fire tore through it, and even singed his smoky essence if such could be said. And then too, the onslaught of Lazule's light only compounded the perforation of his wispy form. As he withstood the onslaught, desperately the smoke whirled about as though taken by the wind, and then abruptly shot down to once again coalesce at the other end of the square.

Between them, the earth broke open yet more, and large chunks fell into what could only be described as a swirling mass of green light, bubbling and steaming - though to say it was anything other than ethereal would be difficult. And across it, where he came to stand whole again Anur took shape.

Then he fell to his knee, and clutched at his chest. His body was severely wounded, and he could not sacrifice any more of his acolytes lest the ritual be abandoned. He looked up at his enemies across the square, no doubt preparing for their final assault.

So Anur allowed himself to fall into the pit, and was swallowed by it.

And slowly, above the ball of bright light began to descend.


Erën had descended some ways down from the town square following his attack on Anur. Said attempt had left him more or less spent of his magical abilities, forcing him to try and scale his way back up to the square the old fashioned way. He would need a few moments to regroup with his friends.

 
The light from Lazule's attack was nearly as bright as her own fire and briefly her eyes flickered to the man on the ground with a small smile. There was a certain amount of joy in being reunited with her friends on the field of battle. Despite the horrors of what had happened on the field of Bhathairk and her time before with Erën and Jirou and the Wendigo, there had been something invigorating about working with people once again to take down an enemy. She might have left the Hunter ranks of her people but she had found kindred souls amongst the same people here.

Clearly the combined attack had caused some pain to the enemy for when he appeared he looked worse for wear. Caliane had no intentions of letting him recover from that. With the ground breaking up and the other two stuck on different sides of the town square it was only the Avariel's wings that provided her the opportunity to give chase at speed so she did.

He fell into the pit a second before she reached him and she cursed under her breath, winging round one of the pillars on which an acolyte stood and instead coming to land beside the startled follower. He went to draw the blade across his own throat but she grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply so it fell into the pit too. There was a look of panic and then Cali gently touched the side of his head. It was a simple spell of healing, to put a patient to sleep so they felt no pain. The man went limp. She caught him before he could topple into the pit and then flew him down to the ground in a shady area out of the way.

"I'm sorry," she looked his face over for a moment before standing and looking to the skies, wings spreading as she readied to take off once more.
 
Effectiveness. Displayed as the Foe manifested from his wicked smoke across the chasm of green light unearthed in the center of the ruined city's square. Caliane and Lazule's own projectiles had produced results, even as the Foe had been in his ostensibly impenetrable form. Such did not protect him completely.

The Foe fell to a knee. That prowess with a blade surely hindered. But Lazule would not wait until Erën was ready--he was not certain of Erën's location, either. The Foe was here. He was to be destroyed. And Lazule had at his disposal a brilliant source of light from which to draw, more radiant and thus potent than the cloud-choked rays of the sun.

Lazule lifted his right hand. Manifested a Javelin of Light crackling with maximum charge and took aim--

But Anur fell into the pit before he could throw it. Acceptable. A monster which slayed itself in error was nonetheless a slain monster. Yet there was still the matter of the Foe's acolytes, who persisted in their arcane channeling.

Caliane was killing one. Not...not killing one. That was insufficient force delivered to the head to produce a critical rupturing of the skull. The acolyte went limp, but he could not be dead. Perhaps Caliane did not know this, for she was preparing to take off. To attack the other acolytes as quickly as possible, likely.

Lazule would assist her in finishing that man who was not dead; so he aimed at his new target, there on the ground where Caliane had set him. She had not ruptured his skull. The Javelin of Light would be more than enough for the--

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë
 
Anima had crept behind the target she had come closest to. There was no better opportunity than this.

The Armored One. Looking elsewhere with a thing of light held high in one hand.

Anima rushed up behind him. She knew, yes, knew well, that the assassin's blades were enchanted. That even if her Masquerade had allowed for her to inherit the abilites of they whose face she wore, it would not have been necessary.

The blade became as ghostly water, held to the shape of the sword. It passed effortlessly through the Armored One's suit, into his back and out through his chest. And when the blade became solid again with a crisp SHRIIIING sound, the Armored One flinched hard and arched his back and jerked his helm up and backward.

He was in mid-motion of throwing the Javelin. And the shock of having been run through disrupted his aim.

Such that his Javelin sailed straight for Caliane.
 
Her eyes had been on the skies; a fatal error.

The javelin of light pierced the Avariel straight through the heart. The force of the blow was so strong that it took Caliane off her feet for a brief moment, her left shoulder jerking backwards before her right came around quickly. It was the shock that kept the cry of pain locked in her throat like a caged bird as she landed on her back dazed. Her body convulsed once as her hands came up to the javelin to try and ease it from her chest but it seemed to only feed off the fire that was desperately trying to burn it away and keep her alive. Blood made her hands slick and weak as it spread like a stain across her armour.

Pain began to creep through the shock and her back arched with it. It was only down to the Soulfire it hadn't killed her at all from the offset. Burning round her heart it sought to keep it beating for just a little longer in some futile hope help might be at hand.

Caliane tried to breathe as her organs began to shut down but she choked on the blood that pooled in her mouth and trickled from the corner. Her eyes began to close and her hands slacken more around the javelin that still protruded from her chest.
 
Erën moved as swiftly as he could. Even without the Strength of Nykios to augment his stride his speed was impressive, but only to one not so desperate. To him, he may as well have been standing still - spoiled by his gifted abilities. But he neglected any for of thought to his detriment and focused only on moving forward, back to where he was needed to be. Fighting Anur, who was no doubt pleased with himself for having avoided Erën so... effortlessly.

He leapt atop a tier, rolling across into a brief sprint and then another leap to another elevation. He bolted to an opening in the ruins, rounded the corner. And he saw Lazule, hurling a javelin of light - but behind him was a shadow. And it pierced him, and Lazule was jarred.

No!

He started forward, his eyes cast up to the javelin of light - and horror filled him. He shouted, but he did no hear. And he watched Lazule's magic strike into Caliane, causing her to fall rapidly to the ground - the weapon sank firmly into the Avariel's chest.

He didn't breath.

He didn't think.

Something snapped.

He darted forward. From somewhere, the aura of his magic began to form around him. But he knew not from where he could draw - it only came forth. He felt the strength in his veins. He drew near to Lazule's assailant, and with a charged fist he struck out with a swinging hammer fist to slam Anima away from Lazule, snapping his finger just immediately in front of her to emit a shockwave to push her backward - if to no other effect than to offer a moments reprieve for Lazule.

But afterward he moved. He ran forward. He forgot about Lazule, and the assassin. He forgot about the spell. Even as ground shook and broke underfoot he leapt over, unwilling to falter even the slightest. He could see her, laid across the ground. He could hear her struggling. He could almost feel the pain of the spear in his own chest. He drew near...

...he blanked, and next he knew he was sliding to her side, grabbing the Javelin in his hand. In his grasp it hummed and crackled, and he felt a tremendous weight to it - one that did not hinder him, but strengthened him. He felt it funnel into him, from Caliane, through and from the Javelin, and into him. His eyes glowed brightly as white fire, and in a desperate motion he pulled the Javelin from Caliane's chest and whirled around. He took a step. The ground broke under his foot. He took another. The sky roared, and lightning split the sky. A third step, and he hurled the javelin into the ethereal pit - wherein two dark eyes had begun to take shape.

He raise his open hand into the sky, and the moment the javelin struck into the green light did he pull his arm down and clench his fist - and from the sky a great bolt of lightning fell, and drove deep into the evil light beneath them. And it persisted, and all around grew dark in the absence of its light. And he even turned away, leaving it, and the enormous bolt persisted for yet a few more moments - as though the sky itself had stewarded the final breaths of his attack.

And he was to her side. His hand over her wound, his other under her head. He looked at her, and he trembled. He... did not know what to do. He scrambled to help ease the bleeding, whispering all the while to hold on.


Meanwhile, within the pit - all the ground had caved in and collapsed, and the cold light which had emitted from below had gone dark. Seemingly dormant, once again.
 
Azulian ran through the mountains and the trees trying to catch up to her comrades. She had no idea they were going to do this until her diety gifted her with a vision of the upcoming future. It showed someone's heartbreaking and panic, pain, misery.

Where are they!? Why didn't they tell Willis or anyone else where they were going!?

Why is it always these three!?

The elf thinks over and over again as the pine trees sliced a small cut onto her neck and it cut through her sleeve.

Eventually she came upon the grizzly scene, paying no attention to the area but to Cali being held by Eren, with a wound to her heart.

Pain gripped to young elf for a moment before she ran over catching her breath and shoving Eren out of the way,
"Excuse me! Go find Lazule! Help him if he needs it please! I got her from here." She says placing her hands on both sides of the wound with her necklace in one

"For all the strength... please..." She'd start to whisper her incantations but this time with a very very different spell. Once meant to heal the most serious or lethal of wounds. The wound would start to close from the inside out as some fiery light seeped from it and it would flow up Azulian's arm and to her own chest as the spell continued.
 
It was critical. Lazule could feel it.

The body of the Unknown Warrior was not meant to be damaged; the armor was. And something had pierced right through this armor and damaged the body, the source of Lazule's control and locomotion, for Lazule did not and could not move the metal and crystal and living stone which comprised the armor. If the body was rendered incapable, the armor would become a tomb.

But it was worse.

In the wake of the crippling skewering through of the unseen blade, Lazule felt glass. Shards of glass. Within his body. Loose and stabbing through his muscles and organs. And that meant one thing: the chamber which encased his Life Fire, his very being, was ruptured. Somewhere between ruptured in part or shattered in whole, Lazule was unsure. And that further meant, once the blade was removed, air could seep in. Come in contact with his Life Fire, and flicker away year after year of life, moment after moment of exposure.

A voice. Behind him. Whispering, as the blade was indeed withdrawn by the same enchanted method in which it had penetrated, "You know that the dark's patience will always overcome the light's brilliance...don't you?"

Lazule tried turning his torso around. Unresponsive. Tried moving his arms and hands. Noted difficulty. Even his legs, far from the point of injury, were slipping from his control. His torso had been damaged, but his arms and legs should have been fine.

Unless his Life Fire was slipping from its place in the cradle of the Unknown Warrior's heart cavity. This, inevitable, if the chamber was as severely damaged as it felt.

Was...was Father's heart...intact?

Lazule dropped down to his knees at the time when Erën forcefully separated Anima. His arms and hands and helm twitching with his relentless attempts to control them.

But he fell forward onto the face of his helm.

And air leaked into the wound left by the assassin's blade. The oozing blood from the Unknown Warrior's body leaking out through the chasms left in the armor and catching fire and turning to ash and dissipating thereafter.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Azulian
 
Anima was thrown back. Back into one of the ruined walls which ringed the square. And she laughed delightfully as the dull pain of the impact spread through her body.

Oh! It was Erën. Mother was right. He lacked the right persuasion, the right push, to accept what was always lurking--waiting--in his heart. He could have killed her, given in, as surely he meant to do with Anur...but he had not, when the opportunity had been keen.

Anima struggled to find her feet, simmering laughter sounding from her throat all the while. The delicious pain was arresting, and prevented her immediate recovery.

Ah. To be teased.
 
Erën..

Her vision was growing darker but it was undeniably him above her. How she did not know, he had been so far… so far… As he pulled the javelin from her chest her body lifted with it and pain spasmed through her once again. This time the scream tore itself from her throat. The Soulfire surged deeper, further. Now that it did not need to focus on fuelling the weapon to keep it from exploding it could focus on keeping its host alive. Blood spurted more from her lips as her body slumped back down to the ground.

I’m going to die.

The thought rung through Caliane’s mind as clear as day as Erën once again appeared by her side, this time on his knees. His hand joined over the top of where both of hers were trying to stem the flow of blood. Guilt crushed her. He had suffered so much and now she was going to be another of those sad memories.

Erën…” her face crumpled and she winced as she coughed, blood marred her lips but she didn’t care. She had to… Her limb felt so heavy as she raised one blood stained hand from her chest to his cheek. Offered him a smile despite the pain and the tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks. “Listen to me…” she cupped his cheek gently. His words didn’t reach dead ears as he whispered she was going to be ok. They both knew it was a necessary lie. “Do not…” she took a shuddering breath. “Don’t…” she closed her eyes briefly. He must know what it was she meant to say after that night together where they had bared their soul to one another.

"Do not carry this on your shoulders with the others."

“Let me go,” Cali said firmly. It was a command and a request all in one as her hand slid round to the back of his neck, pulled him down till their foreheads touched. She abandoned the wound altogether to cup his face briefly, tenderly and press a kiss to his lips with the last of her energy. It was similar to when she had kissed him on the fields of Bhathairk, that surge of energy through him.

A piece of the Soulfire.

And this time it burned in his mind, a living thing.

“Help… Lazule,” she couldn’t muster the strength to open her eyes so she didn’t know that it was someone else who pushed him from her, forced him to go and see to their friend who needed him. Her head slumped back against the ground as he left her and she let the darkness of unconsciousness consume her.

The Soulfire had split itself from Caliane before, but it had never split itself in two like this. It seemed it was to be a time of many firsts for it. The part that went with Erën had a mission, an aim, to help the Life Fire Lazule and it boomed this around his mind like an angry swarm of wasps so it was not to be ignored. The part within Caliane however surged to meet the healing magic and boosted it. There was no doubt the healer would be able to sense it within her and Caliane convulsed again as the magic ripped deep into her body to try and mend the bonds that were broken.
 
Shh... shh...

God's knew he wanted to say something. Anything. But all he could do was whisper and hold tightly at her wound. The blood in his hands, soaking onto his lap... just like it had been with Te'leis. Again... another one he cared for, and this time deeply, being torn away from him, there in his very arms. And though he hadn't landed the fatal blow - and yea, it was Lazule's weapon, it was not even his doing. But ultimately this fault rested on his shoulders. His inability to fell Anur when the chance was there brought all of this about.

Had he chased after that other wretch, the apprentice, instead of flying headlong into the square maybe Lazule would not have been injured...

Lazule... gods... what had he done.

"Do not carry this on your shoulders with the others."

And he knelt his head against hers, shaking it gently.

"No... no I ca-" and once more - and for all he knew for the last time - their lips met. He held her tightly for that brief embrace, forgetting everything else: the remaining acolytes; the blood on his hands, even the Soul Fire entering into him - all for that breathless moment.

Bliss.

And then she fell away, the weakness in her body overtaking, and slowly he lowered her down, leaning close.

“Help… Lazule,”

Those were the last words she said.

"Excuse me! Go find Lazule! Help him if he needs it please! I got her from here."

He was shoved aside with a sudden shock.

Fear.

Anger.

Confusion.

Relief.

"Azulian…"
he breathed, watching helplessly as she took no hesitation in treating Caliane's injury. Hope filled him, and he felt his back straighten. He pulled himself to his feet, coming close again to see - but giving the healer all the room she needed.

He knew he had to go... but he just needed to see her...

Then he turned. Within him, he felt its prevailing presence... it invigorated his spirit and his soul cried out in joyous clamour a the song of his fiery rage.

...where the jewel of the great collective had was shone, and had been replaced by blackness, now another light dwelt. Where the twisting nether had come and wrought ruin, the enveloping flame and spilled forth and twisted the shadow into whirling sea of righteous fire, burning brightly, separating the dark and quieting the chaos...

...bringing Order.

And though it yet led him... it was...

...singular.

His own.
He ran, back now. Back to Lazule. With each step was the twinge of regret - he had not bothered to ensure his friend's safety. He'd been wounded, not much better off than Caliane had been, and yet... he had made a choice.

Never mind!

Indeed.

And he leapt across broken ground, atop a broken wall and attacked an Acolyte on his way - taking no time away from his journey to his friend's side. And he scaled up the laid stones, and leap off their top with a roll through the air, landing on his feet and leaping through the air over a greater chasm left by the disrupted ritual.

Close now, he drew closer to Lazule.
 
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Lazule's armored body twitched and spasmed.

Temporary control over his left arm. He was able to raise it up and plant his palm on the ground and attempt pushing himself up. This slight jarring of the body, however, loosed Father's heart and the Life Fire wreathed around it just so and the control of his left arm was lost. A collapse, back down flat on the ground before the great chasm of the ritual.

Vision was blinking in and out. Hearing, there and gone and there and gone again. This with his other senses as well. Without his Life Fire being in its proper place within the Unknown Warrior's corpse, Lazule's connection to the body was slipping. And it would be severed completely should Father's heart and the Life Fire around it slip far enough away.

But his circumstances did not matter.

He had to stand.

He had to destroy the remaining acolytes.

This was not like Lena's body. He still had a chance--however slim--to give more in the service of righteousness. He could not and would not allow the wicked to prevail.

These determined thoughts, as Lazule lay helpless on the ground.

Caliane Ruinë Azulian
 
Anima stood. Found her feet at last. Craned her neck back luxuriously then leveled it out.

Erën was approaching the Armored One. How wonderful.

She dropped one of the assassin's blades, held only one in right hand now. In her left, conjured an orb of Bale Fire, a black and white flame whose sole purpose was to seep into flesh and wreak a terrible and excruciating amount of pain upon the body. Against that which was not flesh, the Bale Fire was useless, but it needed only a small gap or perforation through clothes or armor.

Anima took a few steps toward the Armored One. Stood within a few paces of him. Watched Erën's approach with a smile.

Said, "You used to deny it, didn't you? That there was something greater than all this. But you know now...that endless font of love...of joy...you needed only to give yourself permission..."

The smile became a grin.

Her head canted to the left.

"Isn't..."

The right.

"That..."

Left.

"Right."

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas
 
Erën drew close, and came to a stop some meters between them. A scornful gaze was cast across him, and carefully his eyes fell down the length of Anima's self, to on the ground just ahead of her, Lazule. His friend. Damnit Lazule... I'm sorry...

But not for long. He drew his sword up, the blade still gleaming red - though with the absence of magic, its treacherous energies seemed dormant, the clash of colours having gone.

"You used to deny it, didn't you? That there was something greater than all this. But you know now...that endless font of love...of joy...you needed only to give yourself permission..."

He grunted, snarling at her. How she knew this of him, he could not say...

But that presence...

"Isn't..."

"That..."

"Right."

He ground his teeth, "enough of this! Your master is dead! Be gone now or..."

A single, red crackle of light ran up the sword from its tip to the hilt, "or I will destroy you."

There was little time. It was unlike Lazule to lay as he did now, even grievously injured - something was wrong. He'd not fail him a second time today...

Erën took a step forward. And another brief crackle appeared, this time running up the length of its arm, coalescing into purple streaks as it did.
 
This is an odd sensation.

The voice sounded in both Caliane and Erën's minds though in truth it was alone. Caliane was in Sleep with the core of its being and this tiny tendril that had slipped into the elfs body probably couldn't understand it; he was not gifted with pyromancy after all. It had wanted to split itself more evenly but the elfs body would not have been able to handle anymore of the raw elemental power of its flame and Caliane would have been... displeased to wake and find this man she was growing feelings for fried from the inside out.

It would have to make do.

The Life Fire was where it would sit better, it could wield the flame.

Erën was closer to Lazule, the metal suit the fire now resided in. One little hop...

The fire sprang down the length of the elfs arm turning the purple streaks to those of white and then the sword too, in its wake. It was the same as with Caliane's body. It just needed a subtle movement of the elf's body and then...

Erën might feel his arm moving now, the sword pointing towards Lazule where the fire then leapt from the tip and went arcing into the suit. Down it dove towards the other fire then it began to spread rapidly through the flesh. Minor wounds it cauterized which would at least stop the flow of blood and give the fire a... a circuit with which to now use to control the body.

It was unlike when Lazule would have been able to use Caliane's fire abilities but it would at least mean he could once again... fight.
 
Enough of this! Your master is dead! Be gone now or...or I will destroy you.

Anima glanced past Erën. To the body of the acolyte whose head was missing. To the acolyte Erën had attacked only just a moment removed from now on his way here, to the Armored One, to Anima's loving presence.

She ran her top teeth briefly over her bottom lip.

"Special exception. Restraint. Why should you be afforded this, when they were not? You see him there...see him...standing..."

She closed her eyes and drew in a breath through her nose and lifted her chin. Opened her eyes and peered at Erën from behind her nose--the nose of the assassin's face. Shall she remove it? Hm.

She finished her sentence: "...on the precipice."

Anima let her eyes drift down to Lazule's body, and the assassin's blade in her right hand turned to ghostly water once more. Eyes to Erën.

"Do as your heart desires. You see her there, don't you? You know what she will do. Is she not wicked? Are you not...?"

A luxurious exhale.

"...righteous?"

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas
 
Casting a long-lasting yet potent healing spell Azulian casts a circle of protection around the winged-elf and she stood up and runs towards Lazule as the human had her gaze set on Eren, casting another shielding spell around them as she got there glaring at the human.

As quickly as she did with Cait she quickly casts a potent over time healing spell, easily healing simple scraps and cuts in a second or two. But the more serious ones would take roughly a few more seconds to heal, "Stay still for a few seconds, it will heal you faster." She whispers to Lazule stopping him from standing up, "The shield magic will protect you until then."

Standing up the elf looks at the human, and looks at her with a blue glow to her eyes, "You do not get to hurt my family demon." She growls at it in demonic running her hands together and separating them, producing a pole of light then it forms into the blade of a snake sword.

Taking the weapon by the handle the blades begins to glow with holy runes along its incredibly sharp sides, And like a whip the air cracks as she brings the blades down on the demon, it would snake in the air as a fury of blows ensued. Moving as if it was actually a snake speeding after it's prey.
 
For a moment there wasva blinding light, and though he felt the heat it did not scorch him. He felt its whirling in his spirit, and then his arm - seemingly of its own accord - pointed down at Lazule. And it burst forth from him, traveling down the length of his arm, and down through the sword. And it leapt from him. It enveloped Lazule's body, and just moments after Azulian was there, running in front of him and tending his wounded friend.

Crossing his step now, he began to round them. The sword drawn up now, hanging right. And she spoke... they were like riddles to his ears, like she spoke to another, from another.

And a name came to his mind... as though pulled from the depths of the dormant darkness within his mind...

Khorvayne...

"You truly are alone."

"Aren't you?"

"You need not be."

Those words still haunted him... distantly, through all the turmoil and grief. But round that twisting abyss they whirled, and every so often, they found him. And this one now... her words sank into him just like those others had... could it be?

"Do as your heart desires. You see her there, don't you? You know what she will do. Is she not wicked? Are you not...?"

"...righteous?"

He steadied himself, straightening his back, lifting his chin.

Yes...

It must be done. Indeed, why show mercy now? Is it because she did not attack Lazule again, hesitated? Why? Clearly not from fear. But...

He looked down at Lazule, and now Azulian rising to her feet and summoning forth a weapon. Back to Anima, disguised as she was.

He hesitated...

Azulian attacked... he tracked Anima...



And he stepped once... stopping short...

A dark mist enveloped him, freezing him still.
 
The dark mist crept up, out through the broken ground, snaking its way along to the former Sword of the Order.

...he was neccesary...

Only the blood of the patriarch could undo what had been done...

...it must be made known...

...if it would not be spilt here...
 
Both the efforts of Caliane's piece of the Soulfire and Azulian's gradual healing spell worked to mend the body of the Unknown Warrior. Seal off the impaling wound that allowed blood to flow out and air, potentially, to flow in. Father's heart, foreign to the Unknown Warrior's body, could not be put back into its place, for its place was within Benjamin. The piece of the Soulfire, however, rectified this.

Vision snapped back to clarity. The sounds of the world crisp again. Positive control over limbs reasserted.

And Lazule, in direct defiance of Azulian's instruction, stood up straight with a stark quickness. Whipped his helm to one side to see the woman who attacked him. Conjured a Javelin of Light his upheld right hand.

But Azulian was already killing her.

Good.

Lazule wheeled around until he spotted one of Anur's other acolytes. Threw the Javelin with a furious intensity, its whistling likely sharp in Erën's and Azulian's ears. The Javelin struck the acolyte chanting and channeling atop the ruin of the square and exploded and the man's upper body became nothing but a violent red mist and a fluttering of tattered and singed clothes, and his two legs--all that remained--tumbled in different directions and fell off of the ruin and down to the snow on either side.

Lazule manifested another Javelin. Scanned for further targets.

Caliane Ruinë
 
Anima only grinned when Azulian spoke to her. She did not understand what the elf was saying.

But she understood the conjuring of a weapon. And at this, a perk of her eyebrows in giddy anticipation.

And, as Azulian readied her strikes, Anima threw her orb of Bale Fire. Not at Azulian, no. At Erën. Perhaps the invitation he wanted. Desired. The permission he needed to give himself, there in the excuse of being attacked. The soft whisper that it was therefore conscionable to do anything he wished to Anima...that ephemeral reprieve from goodness, morality, virtue. To kill was a sin...until one allowed for convenient exception. And each exception made the next easier, and widened the scope of the excepted. Until the exceptions eclipsed the rule.

Yes.

Anima threw her arms out wide to receive Azulian's fury of blows.

The first strike tore down across her face and popped her right eye and the fluid leaked down her cheek and the strike likewise bit into and shattered the small bones of her nose and one of the blades hooked into the corner of her mouth and ripped the entirety of her bottom lip from her face as broken teeth spilled out through this terrible gaping chasm. Anima's head turned with the force of the blow. The next strike rent across her neck and the flurry of the whip-blade's teeth dug in and cleaved deeper until her jugular was severed and exposed and a powerful squirt of blood went sailing from her neck and landed in a jagged red line in the snow to her side. Anima spun round, clutching at her neck. The third strike whipped her back and shredded her acolyte robes covering it and produced a torrent of gashes and cuts and trenches of missing flesh and muscle as the whip-blade's teeth cut effortlessly with their sharpness and their holy power through skin and spine alike. Anima arched her back slightly and fell forward onto the ground, dropping her weapon. The last strike clipped slightly the back of her left calf as she collapsed, the least grievous of the wounds suffered.

She tried to laugh.

Only choking blood and bubbles dribbled from her ravaged mouth. And the rhythmic squirts of blood from her jugular became less and less powerful.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Azulian