Fable - Ask Born with a King's Heart

[Caliane Ruinë]

Why am I not dead?

It was a surprise in truth to open her eyes and see the same skies she had when she shut them. Or was this what happened when you died? Like how children thought the soul sits up out of the body before Ascending. But no, everything hurt still and she was pretty sure pain was not meant to be a thing when you were dead. Or was that the cruel joke?

Her vision swam, her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and her head swam. There had definitely... been... something in her chest. She glanced down now but it was gone. Blearily she tried to sit up which was a terrible idea and she fell back down into the snow with a soft groan.

"That does not look good..." she was watching the spreading black mist as it crawled over the weird little bubble that surrounded her. Was this death? A bubbling laugh escaped her as she watched it. No, silly, death didn't look like that. Death was a goat. Wasn't it? A small squint. Well, something with horns. "Gotta..." Cali managed to roll herself onto her side and squinted at the figures on the other side of the town square. Her hand stretched for her sword which lay slightly outside the bubble. "Help..."

You are in no fit state to help.

"You're not my dad.."

Her vision swam and the sword became three, then four, then two. Her first attempt to reach it earned her a shocking fist full of snow, the second a stick, the third time: success! Her reformed heart was beating a mile a minute from the exercise and she wrenched it back to her side with her eyes closed.

"I really want that ice cream now."

 

[Azulian]

Taking a few breaths after her fury of attack Azulian’s blade was covered in blood and she watched in horror, she was laughing as her blood left her body.

She openly accepted the attacks.

Why?

Azulian had no idea why but she had a feeling that something else was involved, she’d look at Ereën was frozen in place and then at Lazule who did get up.... even though the fool was told not to. No matter. He was well enough to stand now and fight.

But the dark missed that envoleved the other elf had her worried for him, it was sickeningly evil. Caustic. Forgetting about Anima, Azulian claps her hands together and rushes to Erën shaowy side, “Dang this whole situation.” She grumbles quickly tracing a symbol in the air as she slapped a holy paper onto his forehead. It would bring light to whatever was causing this magic. She knew nothing else to work by but the sickening feeling to her heart.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Frozen still, mid stride. Though his body locked tight, his mind was still free. He fought against whatever held him, but despite his effort not a muscle could be budged. But even as the dark encroached on him, it did not harm.

He could see everything yet. He watched Azulian's attacks quite literally shred the acolyte who had attacked Lazule. But he was unable to move... and around him, the dark mist of Anur whirled and whispered to him... And then as Azulian reached with her magic, the mist both departed from, but some also drew into him.

A brief jarring.

Regained his step.

And... something else had changed... thoughts, memories, ideas that were not his flooded him. And he stumbled back. His eyes fell to Anima, struggling in the seemingly final moments. And he approacged her, coming to stand over her looking down. And he knelt, down, looking into her eyes...

Why, he was not sure... there was something to her...

Should they spare her?

Why... even...?

 

[Lazule]

Lazule pivoted on his feet with his Javelin held up and ready and scanned with his visor the ruins that surrounded the square. Another acolyte--there were not many left. They needed to be destroyed, all of them, for the Dweller to stay dead and buried. Zeng had failed, and so too would Anur be made to fail; his acolytes shall not complete their ritual. Anur was dead. And now it was time to likewise destroy his dream. A total erasure of his wickedness from Arethil. Only this was fitting.

Lazule launched the Javelin. But that acolyte, with a presence of mind, interrupted his channeling and jumped clear of the Javelin and disappeared back behind the wall of the ruin outside of the square. The projectile went whistling for three kilometers on its diagonally upward trajectory until it dissipated at some point in the distant sky.

A regrettable miss.

Lazule was prepared to scan for further targets, or go and hunt down the elusive acolyte, until he saw--

"Erën."

A dark mist about him. From where had it come? Azulian, however, utilized her healing discipline to produce a remedy for this, banishing the mist and bringing Erën back into positive control of his body. A strange parallel, between Lazule's earlier plight and Erën's just banished one.

He approached the female acolyte Azulian had attacked. One that she had severely damaged, but not killed. A concern: first Caliane, now Azulian. Both had not ensured the deaths of their targets. This was a tactical error. Without a confirmation of slaying, violence could be turned against the Slayer from their ostensibly "perished" prey. He did not wish for this misfortune to befall either Caliane or Azulian. Perhaps he would speak to them after, about the virtue of confirming one's kill, or of using disproportionate levels of violence to ensure that said confirmation occurred on impact.

Erën would ensure the acolyte's death.

Lazule conjured another Javelin of Light, and his internal heat rose. Mild redness, appearing on the Unknown Warrior's arms, hidden underneath the armor of metal and stone.

Caliane Ruinë Azulian

 

[VigiloConfido]

Anima gargled, the hideous sound of drowning in one's own blood.

She rolled onto her back. Looked up at Erën, who had knelt down. Her face paling horrifically.

She clutched at her neck with her right hand, the entirety of which was slick with glistening redness.

And she made a weak beckoning motion with her left.

Tried to grin with no bottom lip.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Azulian]

Azulian watches at the mist departs from Eren, she didn’t want to dwell on the miss too much yet. She’d watch as he approached the woman, all torn up so much she could barely call herself whole.

Why was she beckoning to Eren who was looking into her eyes? This again made her stomach feel sick. “Erén! Don’t you dare fall for the half-breeds tricks!” She warns him preapsring her weapon for the worse case scenario, “Stay away from her, she has demonic blood!” She warns him and the others looking at them.

“Just step back for all that is holy, please!” She knew they were monster hunters, but if one of their own became the monster? Then gods give them strength.

 

[Anur'Ephal]

The dark mist had dispersed, but not before seeping into the nostrils of Azulian, through the metal of Lazule's armour, even through the shielding of the holy healing magic. He could do no harm, no. Not anymore, not really. But... he could still wield his most powerful weapon. Fear. Dread. Hopelessness.

He knew it well.

Erën, the fool. He hesitated over his prey, giving Anur's consciousness enough time to seethe well into his mind. He would be the first afflicted.

The Broken Sword raised his arm, threatening to sever Anima's head altogether. As he swung, a sudden weakness came over him and the sword was loosed from his grip. He moved to the side, stepping over Anima's wounded body and stumbling a few paces before dropping to his knees.

Similar sensations would soon reach the others - some perhaps would grow feint, others merely still... but soon a change would begin to take place.

All the while, Anima's body wrapped in the black mist, indeed even changed into the mist itself - though seperate from that which already was - and was ushered away...

What Lazule sees.

Spoiler: Throughout the extended scope of vision through Lazule's visor...

...all he saw was black. There was a feeling of listlessness, not unlike when the Life Fire had been prematurely expelled from the safety of Caliane's body outside Father's Tower, tumbling down the mountainside.

But it was not quite so turbulent, more like a gentle tide pushing and pulling.

Foggy at first, but soon taking shape, the image of others around him became clear. Many others... carriages, horses, weapons... a contigent. A camp. Men and elves and dwarves and others, bruised and beaten and weary, drudging around to gather themselves for the final push...

...around them, beyond the glow of fires - the perpetual night; the blackened, twisted forests... Erën had spoke of these lands before...his home.


...around a fire now...

Across, sat Erën, hunched over his propped sword his eyes lost in the blaze. Exhausted. Caliane as well sat near to him, her condition no better...

... spotting Azulian, scurrying about the camp to help all those in need, the wounded and dying.

"This is it..." Erën said, looking up to the Slayer, "...thank you all," his eyes moving about those placed around. They three, and others, and Azulian drawing near, "it will be an honour to fight alongside you all, this last time..."

An understanding, such was the mind of the Slayer. An intimate awareness of the task to be done - the stakes at hand. And as ever, as it had been before the Breaking and even after, the mantra was held as closely as his Father's heart, wrapped in the embrace of his Life Fire:

destroy monsters.

They must all be destroyed.

​

Far across the town, Anima's body once again took shape, standing upright. Whole. Unwounded. Parts of her flesh were replaced with the black smoke, but slowly it solidified into flesh, replenishing that which was her. And a whispering, and knowing...

you are not mine...but you are of the dark... go forth...be blessed...
​

And the presence would depart, which way it went... was hard to say. It went everywhere. And it went no where.

What Azulian sees.

Spoiler: Riding hard over a ravaged path, the twisted wood finally parted...

...and the meadow, once said to have been rivaling paradise revealed itself as a scorched and cursed barren. A river of death flowed before the city, which had turned black with the evil that had ensnared it. And high overhead, where a great tower once stood, the perversion Erën had spoke of loomed - the image of the great mother, Fal'Addareth, made of naught but despair and sorrow. A plagued fabrication - its roots sinking deep and perverting the land to spew darkness out to spread forth into all Arethil, to be stopped no where other than here.

Now.

Azulian knew this. Erën had proven himself to be nothing else if not honest. When he had sought out her help, and told her of the task to be done... she had no choice but to join his cause. Even if what he said was true, and her death were indeed to come about as he predicted many if not all of theirs would - she would not be able to live knowing she had left those she was beginning to care for as friends to die with no aid. Her skills were invaluable, and they were to have any chance at all...

...but as their troop broke out into the clear, the horror that followed did indeed fill her heart with dread.

Spoiler: At the tip of their number, Erën charged forward into the meadow...

...across the great clearing, the city rose high up the distant mountainside. And from its top, driven up from the depths - the ruined image of the elves' own creation cast an even thickening dark over the land.

It was as he had seen...

But worse.

They charged across, the beasts of the forests seemingly falling behind... quiet now, only the sound of their breathing. Their riding. Hooves on hardened ground. The clinking of armour and resting swords.

Then, abruptly, breaking their rank - the ground broke open, and the great demon Lina, revealed herself. He was flung aside, his horses legs broken, and himself propelled many meters away. Many others suffered similar fates, some to be crushed by their own horses, some broken upon hitting the ground. Others crushed under the demon's mighty claws, or grasped in her great maw.

From all around, his former brethren spilled to take up arms against he and his gathered friends. They were ghostly, as though all colour in space and time around them had gone, and every part of them had gone white. They slew, and were slain, without feeling. Nothing.

Erën found his feet quickly, and fought... fought hard against his own... but he had to save them...

...there had been no other way.

What Caliane sees.

Spoiler: She hit hard, but managed to roll to her stomach...

...to her knees now, looking down, her hands on the ground. Blood dripped from her nose.

Until they had reached the meadow, she had been warned against flying. The trees themselves would have reached out to grab her, and entangle her before she could reach the skies. But here in the open, her freedom was returned. Burning with ravenous flame she took to the sky, and unleashed her might upon the vicious demon, and those fallen elves that were beholden to her will.

But the monster proved terrible, and amid the fray of their battle Caliane was struck by its tail, and sent hurtling towards the earth.


Getting up now.. she heard a sound which drew fear from all around... and yea, all of them, she knew, felt it. To her feet she stood, whirling around and grasping her sword...

And she saw him.

That Which Makes Desolate.

That which Anur had spoken of, Arethil's Answer. Erën had known of it... he had spoken of him... and she knew what would come. She could not let it be. Desperately she moved forward, but the onslaught of enemies forced her to remain on the ground. She broke loose...

Arkhivom had found Lazule. And they fought. Valiantly, Lazule battled the great demon, injuring him, evening bringing the beast to his knee. And when it would seem the Slayer would indeed do his task - she came. Ánië Táralóm, warped and twisted by the darkness of these demons - who had enslaved all the Soul Forge. Her powerful magics grasped Lazule, who was weakened from his fight...

And she watched in terror as his body was torn apart, and the Life Fire ensnared in Arkhivom's terrible mandibles, and consumed...

Erën's cry came next...

The pain in his voice...

the rage...

He drew forth his blade, and shot forth toward Arkhivom - and they clashed.

Caliane tried, Azulian coming near to her aid, fighting closer...

Their enemies surrounded them...

The sound of steel rang loudly, quieting all else - all the magic, all the horror...

And the sword was forced down... Erën's neck grasped violently, hoisted from his feet and then tossed weightlessly aside.

One thundering step. Another. A dark spire took shape in Arkhivom's arm...

And he plunged it into Erën's very heart, who reached up... pointlessly...

He turned... his eyes beholding the Avariel, and the Elf.

He stepped forward...

​

And it was over... Erën knelt over himself, breathing hard... unsure of what had just taken place... but it had all happened over the course of only a few seconds...

(OOC: Each character, though different perspectives are given, can experience the entire vision if you like. Feel free to imagine your own take on parts where I described another character's perspective, or even change stuff I wrote.)

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

... He stepped forward then paused. Looked up as the sky became dark with the wings of the Avariel.

They had returned.​

When the vision cleared Caliane found her cheeks were damp and her throat clogged with tears. For a moment all she could do was stare at the skies above her. What was real? Was she on that field or the one she remembered being injured on closer to the Spine? The two timelines were sloshing together inside her mind making it hard to pick out the actions of one compared to the actions of the other. But there had been one difference between the two. One large difference. The Avariel shut her eyes and placed a hand over her stomach, took a shaky long breath and searched inside of herself. No... she thought quietly and the vision and memories finally settled into two distinct things. That had been a future far from this place for now.

Her newly mended heart felt more painful than when the javelin of light had torn through it and she brought the heel of her palm over the top to massage the still tender spot. At least it had served to sombre her mind up. There were not many reasons the Avariel would have arrived as they had towards the end of that image but the uniting of kin... Caliane swallowed hard then wiped the cold tears from her face and attempted again to sit up.

Her head was still woozy and it felt like someone had padded it with wool but she managed to at least stay sitting this time and her wings stretched themselves out. The bubble around her had gone, broken by whatever foul mists had entered her mind. She knew she needed to move but by Gods was she exhausted. Even the Soulfire slumbered now and Cali doubted that she would be able to conjure more than a small fire.

Regrowing a heart was powerful magic indeed, who had done it?

 

[Lazule]

"They must all be destroyed."

Lazule said. His awareness of having said it, aloud, only coming in after the words had been uttered. After the vision in which he had--as with the Amalgamation--not enough of himself to give in the service of righteousness. Dying was fine; to enter into the ancient fold of violence was to accept death at any time. But perishing before this monster, this Demon, could be slain was not. Almost slaying him was not good enough. There were some things in life that were binary, as it had been with Caliane and Azulian, to a much lesser degree: either what you sought to slay was dead, or it was not.

Still in his right hand: a Javelin. Still unslain: three acolytes, allied with the Foe.

Erën and Azulian were reeling. Caliane was stabilized, and had managed to sit up despite Lazule's grievous error, but was also likewise indisposed. And Lazule would not allow for the remaining acolytes to cause her further harm, to bring fresh harm to Erën or Azulian.

He carried out his spoken words.

The Javelin sailed from his grasp and thereafter came the liquidy thunder of its impact as the body of the robed man was blown apart. The other two jumped down from their perches. Lazule sprinted around the terrible rend in the square, the opening of the stone and earth, and gave fearsome chase. Their escape paths were perpendicular to one another in the ruined city: Lazule could not pursue them both.

He didn't have to. A Javelin, weaker than the ones previous that had been manifested from brilliant light, nevertheless flew and impaled one acolyte and left a gaping hole in his chest through which--briefly--Lazule could see the ruined street. The acolyte fell. Dead.

Lazule gave chase to the last. Running her down as he gathered meek cloud-choked daylight in his palm. He could hear the acolyte's panic. Let it fall on deaf ears. She was a monster, in league with the foe. Lazule outpaced the acolyte, grabbed hard the back of her head, and slammed her down face-first to the stone of the street. A high-pitched whine as his magic readied. And he loosed a rapid series of Needles point-blank into the back of her solid skull until it became squishy pulp in his grasp. He stood, blood and bits of bone dripping from his hand. Lazule fired the last three Needles of his gathered light into her back and through her heart. And turned.

He started running back to the square.

He knew there was one other that he missed. The task was not yet done. And he knew not how long Azulian's augment (for he did not know that it was the Soulfire imparted from Erën that allowed for this) would last, how long he had positive control over his body.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Azulian

 

[VigiloConfido]

Anima could finally laugh. And she did so.

She touched her eye. Her nose. Her mouth. Her neck. Her back. It was tragic. Delightfully tragic; the taste of peaches and black tea swirled around on the tip of her tongue. She had come so close.

She stood. And she was on the porch of some Great Building, some remnant thereof. Behind her the fallen doors of this place, the stone jamb, and before her the steps leading down to the street. The square, some considerable distance away.

Yes. She knew what she wanted to do. Her desire to bask overcoming that drive for causing chaos. And she knew how to do it.

The knife. The assassin's boot knife. Withdrawn. The blade, to her face, where the bottom of her ear met her jaw. The incision, slow and perfect. Down the jaw and over the crest of the chin and up and rounding her brow and back to where it had begun. And she peeled the assassin's face from her own. Gasped and braced herself against the stone door jamb of the Great building as the assassin's silver hair turned black and shortened to her own and the assassin's skin tone lightened to her own and the assassin's height and weight shrunk to her own and her eyes shifted in their hue back to their light grayness and her voice became hers and not the assassin's once more. Anima was herself again. The image of a woman that neither Erën nor any of his comrades knew.

Anima worked up another laugh.

Then punched herself in the face. The swelling of her right eye would come soon, turning a deep black and blue. She tore off her acolyte's robes in her laughing mania and discarded every piece of clothing until she was naked and the cold pierced into her exposed skin.

She threw herself against the stone jamb of the Great Building. Hit the pointed corner of the jamb with her left forearm again and again until she had broken her own bone. This, causing another roar of laughter. She took the dagger and sliced at her flesh, carving out wounds that were not wholly random: purposeful, ritualistic in appearance. The kind of wounds a captive and a sacrifice might have adorning their skin.

And she stopped laughing immediately. Worked up the appropriate emotions. Let tears stream down her face.

Then she tossed the dagger inside the Great Building along with her clothes and went down the steps and held her broken arm meekly in her hand and hurried in an apparent panic back toward the square.

 

[Azulian]

Azulian took a few steps back as the vision ended, it was nothing like her deity showed her. No. It was more detailed and more exact. But as usual after any kind of vision her stomach felt ill and as such she threw up away from the other before returning to them calm and composed but visibly a bit worried.

“Come, we still have work to do.” She tells them helping Cali to her feet and casting a spell that’ll help her keep them on the ground, then she’d go help Erén, “The vision is something that has to be discussed when we are in safety and dwelt on then.“

Looking around the elf sighs, “That demon got away, no telling where she is now.” She informs them, there was no body. No proof she was dead if she was. “So be alert...” Lazule went to go and take care of the remaining acolytes, hopefully he would return with some good news.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Spoiler: The horror...

...Helpless.

He could not get there. Barred by the number of his foes, while one of his closest friends clashed with the pinnacle of their ultimate demise should they fail...

Erën swung violently against one of his enemies - a person he once knew and cared for. He slew them, and pressed on to the next. Beyond, he could see their furious battle - the shadow, set against the light. And Lazule would bring it to it's knees in triumph!

Erën drew near, slaying another former friend...

And then, once the steward of his daughter's mother's place, caring for her as though she were her own: Ánië, she struck out against Lazule, and in his tired state he could not resist...

Erën charged forward, his own light twisting to red as he beheld the Slayer's end. He cried out in rage and sorrow and hate, and in a blinding flash he was upon Arkhivom. He battered the demon with vicious assaults, unleashing the full fury of his deadly lightning, and decisive swordsmanship. But soon, the weakness that had been inflicted upon the shadow mended in the absence of the light - and grew stronger.

His arm was struck, the sword cast aside.

A flash of white, and a tightness around his neck - grabbed with such force as to wrack his whole frame. He choked. Then, he was violently thrown to the ground, slamming hard into his shoulder, shattering his arm, and splitting his head on thd ground.

He bounced.

And he hit again, landing on his back. He coughed, and blinked. Blood drowned his eyes. He wiped them, and struggled to sit up. A heavy foot slammed into his chest, and as he reached to retaliate he felt it depart - and then...

It was like fire, tearing his flesh, puncturing his heart, and causing his body to go stiff. It felt as though all his body tightened so hard, it would rip itself apart - then the pillar of shadow tore from his chest, and he fell limp... coughing his last breaths...

He leaned over and vomited there where he knelt. He knew nought of Anima's disappearance, he knew nothing of Lazule's taking after the remaining acolytes. He knew not of Caliane... everything spun.

When Azulian came near, he looked up and nodded, but truly he did not hear. She turned away, and his eyes once more cast down,

He dug his hands into the snow...

tears welled...

His chest, grew tight, his breathing short... and soon soft welps came from each broken breath... he shook...

A hand frantically reached to his chest, sliding up, pulling at his skin, and the reaching down his face.

Image, after image, flashed through his mind.

He screamed. Not one of rage, or contempt, or defiance.

Fear.

Broken.

He vomited again, crawled a few paces, and then collapsed. Whether he was conscious or not, as of yet, was hard to tell...

But in his eyes, a dark mist whirled...


Nearby... the sword. It rested, quietly. But once again, it had changed. No longer did it glow the ghastly red, exuding a wretched cold and softened whisper...

No, now it was painted with many colours, blue, red, purple, and white.

One arm, though falling several meters short, had reached for it...

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

A blink and then there was a woman standing in front of her when once there had been nobody on her side of the square. Her answer, revealed as if conjured through the power of thought alone.

"Azulian?" The Avariel had no energy to protest to the woman pulling her to her feet. Her legs buckled once but the healer was there to catch her and then she was murmuring something. A tingling spread over her body and whilst her legs and body grew a little stronger - at least enough to keep herself in the upright position - it came with a slight tremor. Once in Alliria after a mission one of the men she had worked with had introduced her to coffee to help her through the exhaustion. It felt like that now, her hands shaking as she tried to sheath her sword. There were a few botched attempts but she had managed it by the point her friend had helped her over to the rest of the group.

It seemed everyone had been impacted by the same vision, though it didn't appear to have affected everyone in the same way. Erën seemed to be the worst but that was expected.

"I got this," the red head exclaimed in the shared language of the elves. Common Tongue was beyond her grasp at the moment and she put a hand on Azulian's shoulder confidently before striding over to where he was knelt on the ground, stumbling every few steps. The empathy was what she did, right? That was her role in the little band they had begun to settle in to? She couldn't quite remember. Best to try it out.

She managed to get to his side on her own two feet then sunk into the snow beside where his head was.

Motivational, caring, loving...

"Erën," Cali slapped his cheek twice - probably thankfully for him she didn't have much energy for it to be a hard thing.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën's mind whirled. Within, at first he could not comprehend... but it began to slow and he realized what had been done.

The vision - he knew. He knew what Anur had shown... but... no. It was a lie! There was no way what he saw could ever come to pass. Or...

For Erën, he not only experienced the vision as the others did, but also a transmission of thought and memory. Anur's poison: creeping into his mind. And frantically, what remained of his mental constructs worked to bar them away.

He'll find you...

...if you do not go, he will come...

...you should have listened to me...

Patriarch.
​

Slap! Slap!

Erën's eyes snapped to attention, startled. Blurry at first, but she came into view.

He nearly leapt from the ground he rose so quickly, careful to usher her out of his way, "Caliane..." he trembled, cold from the wind against his perspired skin.

"Where is!..?"

He looked around. He could see Azulian. Lazule - finishing the task. Relief...

He looked up, the glimmering ball of light had dispersed, likely torn apart in the onslaught of their combined magics - allowing them the time they needed. As for the presence... Anur...

He did not understand.

He looked back to Caliane, his hand coming to her cheek, "you're, alright...?"

... a vague memory... Azulian had said,

“That demon got away, no telling where she is now.”

He grew tense. Almost, fearful, "we must leave here."

He started to his feet.

[ooc: dialogue
Green: Common
Blue: Elven​

 

[Lazule]

Lazule appeared at the very edge of the square. Scanned the square with a sweep his helm and his visor.

Then took off running in a very particular direction. Disappeared around the ruined walls and structures that enclosed the square.

He seemed simply gone for a time.

There was a flash of light from somewhere in the city. Faint and a touch distant. Coming from the general direction of where the acolyte who had earlier dodged a Javelin had been during the failed ritual.

Another flash of light. A cut off scream carried by the wind.

A pause.

A rapid series of flashes.

Then nothing for a time.

And.

Eventually.

Lazule came walking calmly back to the square. In his right hand he carried a freshly carved out human scalp, with hair on one side and dripping blood on the other. He approached the gathering of Caliane and Erën and Azulian, noting then that in his absence the state of the incapacitated had changed: Caliane was up now, and it was Erën who was down.

Lazule stood before them all. Dropped the severed scalp down to the ground between them like a house cat who had brought a dead mouse to its owner, and said, "I have slain the last acolyte, and claimed recompense from him."

He did not know what happened to the assassin acolyte. The last he saw was Erën preparing to assist in her eventual death through copious bloodloss. She was now gone--slain or not slain--and Lazule did not know to where.

Lazule followed the track of Erën's arm, seeing the sword--his sword--that he was reaching for. There was a colorful new strangeness about it, but Lazule did not ponder this further. An enchantment, or magical discipline, on Erën's part.

Two things left to do. Clarify what happened and apologize to Caliane. And inquire of Azulian for help in removing the center stone of the armored suit and picking out the glass shards inside his chest and perhaps devising some impromptu means for allowing the proper placement of his Life Fire in the heart cavity; this as a temporary solution until a new chamber or substitute thereof could be constructed and installed.

Lazule looked to Caliane. She was occupied with Erën, but he would be efficient about his apology: "Caliane. I did not intend to harm you. My aim was disrupted, and for allowing that to happen I apologize. I was aiming for--"

Lazule snapped his helm up and level then. Manifested another weak Javelin of Light in his upheld hand from the ambient daylight through the dark clouds. He spotted the unconscious acolyte.

Aimed.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Azulian

 

[VigiloConfido]

Faint cries. The patter of bare feet.

Anima was hobbling along in a hurry down a street in the ruined city, adjacent to the center square. Indirectly approaching it. She shivered and held her broken arm and appeared every bit the pitiful thing she presented herself to be.

"Hellll~p! Is there anyone there? Someone please!" Her voice choked with sobs. "Please...I don't...I don't....!"

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Cali narrowly managed to lean back out of the way as Erën shot into the sitting up position and wondered, with the type of clarity only someone on painkillers would wonder, was how much it would have really ruined her day if he had headbutted her in that moment. A rush of questions followed and she merely gifted him a slow and lazy blink for his troubles, allowing him to work it out for himself the state of the others. Then his hand on her cheek and the wave of emotions of her now and her then, in the future the vision had given her, smashed together in a torrent. It was hard to reconcile the sheer amount of love she had felt for him in her vision with how she felt now, so new was it between them.

"Alive, that will have to do for now," Cali decided to adjust the term as she leaned her cheek in to his touch and shut her eyes briefly. The scarlet red tips of her feathers looked even more vivid against the snowy dove of the rest of her wings, splayed as they were against the white snow beneath her. For a moment it might even seem she would fall asleep in that position, her body slumping slightly as she relaxed. But then she felt him tense and it forced her too to open her eyes once more. She understood his words, nodding mutely, and used his hand to pull herself to her feet with obvious effort. Even when on her feet she swayed a little.

But as Lazule approached, Caliane took a step backwards.

The fear travelled between her and the Soulfire, and thus the piece linked inside of Lazule, where it did the only thing it could to protect itself and Caliane.

It winked out of existence inside of him.

 

[Azulian]

Azulian smiled as Erén came to, then she saw Lazule fall.... Gods damn it. She gonna need to find a way to carry him home now. She’d start towards him then hear a cry for help, “You guys take care of Lazule, Im going to go and check what the hell all the screaming is about.”

The closer she had gotten to Anima she couldn’t tell or sense anything sinful in the injured woman, she wasn’t wearing acoylte clothing either. A prisoner?

She’d run toward her and look at the poor thing’s shattered arm and other injures, “Come here, I’ll try my best to heal you here.” Azulian says comforting, “It won’t hurt at all at-least.” She in forms the young woman about to cast healing magic on her wounds.

 

[Lazule]

Everything left Lazule all at once.

Sight. Sound. Feeling. Everything but thought.

When next his vision blurred back into being and his hearing whispered back, he was flat on the ground. His limbs mostly unresponsive once more. It was clear what happened: the magic from Azulian (still he did not know it had truly been Caliane's Soulfire) had worn off. The temporary measure just that. It was Lazule's only solace that he had slain most of the acolytes in the time allotted, and that the one who still lived was at least incapacitated. He had done all he could to prevent further violence from befalling Erën, Caliane, and Azulian.

His dropped Javelin of Light sparked and fizzled on the ground outside of his grasp. And eventually it dissipated without detonation, the light scattering harmlessly away and gone at its incredible speed.

Lazule lay there. Unable to move. Unable to speak.

Caliane Ruinë Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[VigiloConfido]

Anima looked up with glistening hope in her expression when she saw and heard someone coming. (That one. The very same who had brought down upon her the rending.)

Anima held out her unbroken arm and stumbled toward Azulian and took her in a fearful yet joyous embrace, sobbing into her shoulder. Said, "I thought...I thought they were going to...kill me..." (A dispensing--purposeful--of her normal manner of speaking. An adoption of a new Masquerade, of sorts.)

"Thank you. Thank you..." she spoke into Azulian's shoulder.

After a moment (deemed necessary), Anima pulled back from the embrace. Maintained an expression of desperate hope and elation, like a traveler who had actually entered the mirage-oasis of their desert hallucinations.

Her whole naked body was shivering. (Sometimes the truth assisted the lie.)

"I-Is it only you? Here? Do you have a spare cloak? Or s-something?"

Azulian

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën came to his feet with Caliane, and for a moment he only beheld the surround. The last several days had been mayhem, and then trial now seemed to be coming to a close... thankfully. He turned and regarded Lazule with the inclination of his chin, and then was distracted by Caliane's obvious aversion to his presence. Before he could address it, Lazule collapsed.

First shock, then he turned to her with a look of concern and then went to Lazule.

Of course, he realized as he put his hands down upon the Armoured One, that Caliane had been impaled by Lazule's magic - almost dying had it not been for Azulian. He looked up at her... he had seen, he knew what had happened. But there is no way she could have... but, what if Azulian had not come? Would he so willingly do what he was about to?

Surely... wouldn't he?

It was strange, as his eyes cast down once more upon him, he hesitated. Not in reconsideration, just simply shock. Snapping out of his, he clasped his hands together and rubbed them. He was unsure how much he could give... but he had to dig deep. He had to try. He knew Lazule was safe so long as the Life Fire remained encased. That much he knew he could provide.

Then he clapped his hands together with a brilliant flash of light. His entire body was enveloped in blue light, and between his hand a band of it crackled and surged. Then he laid his hands upon Lazule, and summoned the Pillar of Tychan.

As it had with Erën during his battle at Benjamin's Tower, the Pillar mended - temporarily - Lazule's internal structure, and sealed his wounds with stripes of blue light. His body even claimed the aura that was around Erën, and when he was finished Erën rose to his feet.

One final act to preform.

He approached the unconcious acolyte. As he did he reached to the sword, and from him a streak of lightning stretched out, and grasped it. He drew it to him without hindering his approach. Soon, he loomed overhead, the final of their foes - and end to this madness. He beheld her a moment, and then swiftly severed her head, and then turned as though nothing had occured. He approached Caliane, looking to her and then to Lazule, then around.

"Where is Azulian, we must..."

The ground began to tremble, gently at first, growing in intensity. Soon, derelict structutes began to collapse, and by the second their safety grew less and less certain.

He didn't bother finishing his sentence.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Whole once more.

The last tendril of Soulfire returning to her helped to push away the thick wool feeling that still gathered in her mind. She could see a little clearer, think a little better, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. It was beginning to dawn on her just how close she had been to death a second time in the span of a few weeks. Guilt and shame washed over her but she couldn't bring herself to go to Lazule when he needed aid, hovering back and letting Erën deal with it instead. A small part of her tried to justify it; she was beyond spent, there was nothing she could do. Yet... what if Lazule - the Life Fire - needed once more to be placed inside a fire to be kept alive? Would she do it?

The answer didn't come to her straight away.

Luckily for Caliane it appeared she wouldn't need to think upon it either. She breathed out an audible sigh of relief. But still she couldn't bring herself to go to him and offer him help to his feet. Her eyes closed and she pressed a hand over her chest once more. Most of the armour had again been burnt away, this time not by her own flames but by the javelin. She could still feel it in her chest. Through her heart. A small line marred her brow as they pulled together in a troubled frown lost as she was in the memory.

"Where is Azulian, we must..."

Snapping out of the tangled recollection of pain and certainty of death at his words she took a breath and prepared to reply and tell him of the call for aid they had heard a moment go, when the ground began to shake. She would never be too tired to fly, it was as natural as walking. One second she was on the ground and the next hovering above it, the slow beats of her wings stirring the snow on the ground.

"Go," Cali grimaced. "I'll guide you from the skies."

 

[Azulian]

Azulian sighs, "I only got the one on my back, so I got no spare one sorry miss.' She apologizes to her giving Anima a conflicted look. She takes off her cloak and hands it to Anima.

The poor thing needed warmth otherwise the elements might get to her before she earth started to shake, "Do you need me to carry you?" She asks Anima knowing full well she could carry her, and get their way out of the area to safety rather quickly. If not she'd turn and run, if so she'd pick her up and run through the quickest exit.

 

[Lazule]

Once again, positive control returned to Lazule. Like before, this was a temporary measure, the only difference being that it was instilled by Erën. A more permanent rectifying of this predicament, the destruction of the chamber inside his chest, remained.

A more permanent.

Permanent.

Lazule thought of his talk with Azulian. That possibility. That hope. This body and its armored suit was very capable, more than sufficient, but perhaps--and only perhaps--there was another option. An option that, if not better, might provide a capability currently lacking.

By the time Lazule had found his feet, Erën had come back to him and Caliane (the latter some paces away). Lazule followed back the track of his approach with his visored gaze and saw that he had indeed finished that unconscious acolyte. A nod of his helm. For a task well done. For a good kill.

Lazule had no time to speak, and neither did Erën. For the very ground about them started to tremble, and the structures of the city weakened by time's ruination collapsed here and there with an increasing regularity. Caliane hovered off of the ground. Said for them to go.

"We shall," Lazule said.

With a look to Erën--he seemed well enough to run on his own--Lazule started out of the square.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[VigiloConfido]

Her arm healed. A cloak offered. Anima accepted, graciously (yes), and quickly donned the cloak and wrapped it about herself, holding it closed from the inside as her breath remained visible in the mountain air.

The ground. The city entire. Trembling. Anur may have perished with purpose after all.

Anima glanced around fearfully (that succulent citrus) and shrunk down meekly as a nearby standing wall of a home joined its three brothers and collapsed into naught but rubble and dust.

Do you need me to carry you?

"No. N-No, I can run. What's--?"

Happening. (Ah, the Armored One. Resilient. And Erën.)

The Armored One called to the healer, "Azulian." Only a brief look at Anima. He made a pointing motion with his hand down a specific direction. Then started running at full-speed toward the edge of the ruined city from whence he had earlier entered.

"I'll follow. Please don't leave me behind!" Anima said to Azulian. (You don't want to miss out...do you?)

And she prepared to follow Azulian's lead. Numb bare feet not stopping her.

Azulian