“Honour is dead. You killed it with your every advance. And I helped, breaking the Oath that made us Sainon. It was cruel, i admit, but worth it. For as long as the River flows and the Path is tread, I will never cease to exist. From now until the Eve of the Stars I am and will be. Every child of our Freika has my blood coursing with hate through their veins. My Glory ensured that at the very least.
Damn me if you must. My children are dead, that is all the damnation i needed.
Look to yourself if you want to see a heretic so desperately. Stage set and roles cast, I do hope you remember your lines. The Enemy has finally embraced our little subcontinent. And it all could have been avoided if you had just left us to our wars. But you had to intercede right? To stamp out the Hellish scourge at all costs. Or was it simply materialism that guided you here? For your damned Age of Progress?
Stars damn it all, it does not matter anymore. The Choir and their Loom are impotent now, for once us mortals will play this game of Fates and Destiny. So, arschloch, you cast your Hero and I'll cast my villain.
Lo you old fool! Far Above, beyond even the Astral, the last Stars are watching us duel across a continent.
So let us dance this 'Age of Progress'.
Until they all burn out!"
- The speech of Thainar Kalaworth recorded by Lady Fianne the Coordinator as the Continental Expeditionary Force cornered and executed him; Circa 1230 CC
And so the thread fell. All the way down to him.
He raised his head to clouds that floated in packs bleeding their contents onto the world. A cold rain fell like tears down the boy’s face as he stood alone under an endless downpour. Droplets ran down his cheek drawing wet trails across his pale skin, then dropping onto his steel plate and finally down to the earth below. He brushed his hand through his aureate blonde hair as it matted, his medium length locks soaking up the water like a field after drought.
Rain……….. How provident.
The Choir Above had always impressed the holy nature of water to him, it was life, it was holy and it was glorious. Even more so when it fell from the heavy clouds of their Kingdom all the way down to the mortal plane. The Post Reformist Grand Church deified the Lady of the Lake and the River. So anyone could see that they loved one god and that god was liquid. Their devotion to water made sense though, after all without it there would be no man, it was the lifeblood of progress. And this was to be an Age of Progress.
Raine was the boy’s name, it was a fitting, if ironic, label for him; the priests had certainly found the association divine but they would ascribe holy meaning to a particularly shiny rock. Raine knew he was named solely for the circumstance of his birth, he had been born under a storm and had not let out a whimper entering this world. His parents had taken it as a sign, much like the priests now that Raine thought about it, so maybe they had a point after all.
He had been raised in that coastal village and ever since its destruction water had been his partner in duty, even now, thousands of leagues from those scorched beaches, it found him.
“P-please I swear I've d-done nothing wrong.”
And so it was that the Hero named Raine stood alone in the rain.
Fate has a sense of humor.
Not truly alone of course, never would he fully part from his masters above. He felt a twitch on the back of his neck, a golden thread leading from his nape to the sky far above tightened, a sign of agreement he recognised. The thread pulled and loosened in the Choir’s will, its massive length vibrating would undoubtedly make him an eyesore from a town away if it weren't for its transparency. If it could be seen by any other he wouldn't get anywhere without people kneeling or trying to disembowel him.
Such was the polarising nature of his profession.
Hero he was, from the moment he took up his sword, and until the Last Eve when Heaven would summon him again to rout the Enemy.
An Age ago that title would have been met solely with worship and adoration, now the lines were not so clear. Especially this close to Sainon’s border.
Raine certainly looked the part of the Hero, hair golden even under the grey storm, a stature not quite towering but definitely above human average and of course, not to be vain, but most found his visage appealing. He was picturesquely Heroic in form and face, that was to say he looked above averagely beautiful and somewhat gallant, in a storybook kind of fashion. He did wonder sometimes whether that was the Choir’s doing as well.
The thread never answered that query though.
“P-please it h-had to be done.” the stuttery plea of a man struggled to be heard against the pitter patter of rain.
It was the gilded thread that had willed him here. Only him, not the rest of his party, which wasn't a choice solely made by his masters, Raine himself had actually wanted to proceed alone into this specific quest. His party members, beloved as they were, weren't suited to the work he was about to proceed with.
Fragor, sweet giant he was, was just far too kind to engage the methods needed to uncover this thread. For this task the man made of rock Raine proudly called friend would best be left draining the inn of half its food supply and paying twice its worth out of embarrassment.
Now their token elf Elaine had her own issue, many issues really, her work would start with her drawing her bow and end with many c arrows embedded in skulls, which she would undoubtedly enjoy but would cut any interrogation efforts quite short. Catherine was tricky and certainly possessed cunning enough to extract answers but she had a certain greed that influenced her every action, specifically pertaining to matters of wealth. The rowdy felinoid would take any chance to fill her pockets which Raine really didn't want to deal with right now, though her familiarity with the less honorable parts of society would’ve been useful. Now, the rest, Alice, Fragor and Lance, wouldn't present any major issue if they were added to his little outing but the rest all had little quirks that made their exclusion a sound decision. As for the last of their party, the Saintess Filian, with her pale cloak and veiled eyes, to Raine she was an issue in and of herself.
He sighed as the thought of them dominating the inn with their usual banter and bickering, memories flashed through his mind making a small part of him want to get out of the rain for once. Only a single star cycle spent in their company and the phrase ‘found family’ had begun to mean something to him, referring of course to the fact they drove him to the point of insanity sometimes. They would likely drive him even madder in the coming days when they learned of his little outing.
Apart from his party, his handlers would doubtless be furious to hear of him taking this unsanctioned risk. Whatever, it wasn't as if he informed those nuisances of most things he did anyways. They wanted to be kept eternally apprised of the Choir’s every will but if needed Raine always had the option to simply not inform them of Heaven’s will. It would cut him out of the church’s valuable resources but he was a Hero, he didn't need their paladins and prayers to get the job done. They really needed to learn that he was the Choir’s vessel, not them.
Excluding his party would be a noticeable loss to his fighting strength, they all held Power and had earned the right to stand by his side.
But he was a Hero, none could match his might, especially with compensating for his weakness in matters of investigation through the Loom. Guided by the Strings of Fate he would easily find himself present wherever he needed to be and would triumph against any foe so long as the Heavens wished it.
The Strings utilised to guide Fate were unlike the one that tethered Raine to the skies Above, for one they were not everpresent coming and going as dictated by their relevance, secondly they weren't as connected to him being wholly intangible in nature, lastly, there was simply much more of them. Right now he could see dozens of the less lustrous golden threads, leading away in myriad directions fading in and out signifying the Destinies that could be.
But only one of them mattered right now. A single String brighter than its comrades had slowly undulated as it led him towards a crying man cowering on a dirt path.
“I DIDN’T KILL THEM!” his voice was broken and the rain couldn't quite smother the pathetic man’s sobbing. “....p-please…”
Stars damn us all, Raine sighed even harder, it couldn't be ignored any longer. He looked down at the worm with what he wanted to be a measured gaze but it could’ve been mistaken by the less observant as a glare. He had been unnecessarily informed by Catherine that he did that a lot.
He looked left and right at the shoddy stone walls enclosing them in a cramped alleyway, the town was old and its walls showed it, but they stood yet making sure there was not a soul to hear the coming interrogation.
“I believe you.” he lied effortlessly. “But then why is it your Skill I traced from the scene?”
He didn't really trace it, the String did, but it was always best to leave people guessing where Raine ended and the Choir’s device began.
“T-they made me do it.” he responded.
The man wasn't much. He sort of resembled a squirrel in his demeanor and face or maybe a rat, any type of rodent really. His clothing was well made for the merchant he posed as, of Reisan origin by Raine’s guess, he also had a Federasi shortsword at his hip judging by its quality make. He must have bribed the town guard to wear it so brazenly, or maybe the rules were looser close to the subcontinent. The sword was clear of anything like blood so he moved on.
His belts and satchels were interesting, the String led directly to one of the satchels, not to anything inside out but to the design of the satchel itself.
They had to be Evanthian due to the flowery pattern, Raine remembered the Kingdom of Flowers as a place of peace and floral splendor, now that was a place where you hid your shortsword. But why would the String care about Evanthe? Wait, no, that specific flower, Raine wracked his brain searching through the memories of his old lessons, what was it again?
“I-i mean really, this is their fault, you cant kill me i have a family, f-families in fact, they used their demonic mind powers on me, they're t-the-the Enemy and i was helpless, shit, your a Hero aren't you? I'm just a vict-”
The staccato of his desperate but untruthful confession filled the alleyway before cut down by a question so sharp it cut straight through his rambling panic.
“Where did you get those satchels and belts?”
“W-Wha?”
“Where?” Raine questioned putting a bit of Power into his demand.
“FROM A MERCHANT!!.”
“Do you know which nation the items originated from?”
“H-huh?”
“Do you kn-”
“R-Re-RedamarethemanwhosoldittomewasfromRedamarepleaseimsorry.”
Oh, of course, the flower was a rose, symbol of the Land of Love. Raine sighed once again putting pieces together in his mind, Fate’s thread wanted him to know something related to the Kingdom of Redamare.
“Alright,” he said. “What did you do?”
“Y-you mean back there at the yard?” the man replied, still cowering.
So, he had come from an incident in the scrapyard, Raine had lied about tracing the man from the ‘scene’, in fact he knew nothing but that the String found the man important.
“Yes.” Raine replied.
“Look, I was just s-selling some new goods out of Sainon, that's all.”
Sainon, backwards land still mired in the ruin of the Interventionary War, why did the string of Fate pull taught at that name? Not only that, it also tethered anew to the lapel of the man's shirt, right next his neck it anchored at a nearly invisible stain of blood. Raine struggled not to smirk.
“I don't know how they do it in the subcontinent.” Raine leaned in closer looming over the man. “But usually sales don't end so bloody.”
A [Power Shot] in the dark that most people would realise to be baseless probes, but not this man, at least not when this terrified.
“I DIDNT EXPECT THEM TO SLIT THE FUCKERS THRO-.” the man shouted causing Raine to put him in a headlock shutting his mouth. The Hero scanned around the alleyway hastily, his Divine sight revealing everyone in a large radius around him, and waited a minute before allowing the man to sag down against the alley’s wet wall. He allowed the man five breaths before continuing.
“Whose throat?” Raine questioned while leaning against the wall with arms crossed.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” the man spat out curses recovering slower than expected. “A-a [Guardsman] dammit.”
Raine struggled to keep his face straight. A failure already then, Hellstricken Gods this cannot spiral into more casualties. The rain continued pouring. These unknown murderers were dangerous to have killed a Pathwalker even if they just had a Low Class.
“Why did they kill the [Guardsman]?” He asked calmly after a moment refocusing his thoughts.
“Oh Heaven you fucker, you r-really didn't know anything did you?”
Fair. Raine thought. The String wasn't giving any more sensation so maybe he had to backtrack a bit.
“I trust it was not a legal sale then?”
“OBVIOUSLY!” the man jerked backwards when Raine reached over to quiet him down again. “S-sorrysorry it was a smuggling job, a big one, listen…..”
His face scrunched up as he forced himself to reveal something important.
“I wont lie, im a [Smuggler].”
Oh………., I should've guessed that.
A class, like the late [Guardsman], like Fragor’s [Guardian of Stone], or Elaine’s [Ranger]. A Low class, unlike theirs, but it made obvious sense that someone with Power was involved in the death of a Pathwalker. Power begets Power, the Path is a circle. Raine was off his game, he needed to do better. The truth was hard to uncover without the Loom’s guiding touch.
“The bastard from Redamare wanted me for my Skills, to transport and sell an item from Sainon to a buyer here.” The rodent-like man continued explaining. “The p-poor [Guardsman], he must have used a Skill to find us.”
An unfortunate use judging by his fate, the [Smuggler] himself would have used his Skills to get him this far, it was a testament to the Loom's reliability that it could brush aside those Skills and lead Raine straight to him.
“When did the man in Redamare contract you.?”
“Like, half a star cycle ago.” he used the continental term meaning he likely wasn't a native Sainonese. They would say something more simple and barbaric like “a summer ago”.
“What were you selling?”
“S-scrying casts.” That was interesting, a magical recording easily stored and replayed, they fetched a high price in less advanced areas, especially in places still reeling from the Goldcrash, but not enough to kill a [Guardsman] over.
“Must’ve recorded something important.”
“Of course, the recording was the whole fucking deal.” he said his eyes darting around the alleyway. “Listen, I tell you, you have to p-protect me from them alright?”
Finally, Raine had gotten somewhere, if it had taken any longer he would have resorted to just blindly casting around the town with the String hoping to catch anything of worth.
“Yes of course.”
Raine didn't lie there. The [Smuggler] was pathetic and a manslaughterer at the least but he was still a person and Raine was still a Hero. He had already failed in this town but under these grey skies he would redeem his mistake.
“Alright.” the man breathed out a sigh of relief. “It was something r-related to Audrick the Flame. And them, the Cult of the Sta-”
The thread pulled.
Raine’s muscles exerted fully as he vaulted backwards in an instant out of the impact site. The [Smuggler]'s head was reduced to a spray of blood and bone as it disintegrated in a single stroke. An object had hit him from above, Raine recognised.
The Hero leapt up out of the alleyway right onto the roof and let his senses unleash upon the town. He spared a single glance for the [Smuggler]’s headless corpse, head eviscerated fully with nothing present above the neckline, the two failures of the night fell heavy on his heart.
How, his mind practically growled in righteous anger, And where?
The town bloomed into his mind’s eye as not a single soul was left untouched by his search, those with Power perked up as they recognised someone was reaching out to their very being and deeming them innocent. Seconds passed like minutes and Raine knew he was losing the perpetrator with every moment he failed to track them. Sweat built up on his brow as his divine sight wormed its way into every alley, room and crook of the town. He found a few suspects, most prominent an [Archer] who stumbled drunk lazily by the local Guild branch, no, it was too powerful a shot to be a simple Low Class. It had come too fast and too powerful, only the Choir had seen it coming.
Middle or High at minimum. Likely early High then.
Lady forbid, if it was a Master Class or anything above. The town would see thousands of casualties in the inevitable disaster of a battle if that were so…….
Raine breathed out slowly, with water still dripping down onto his face. Standing above an alley in which laid abject failure, he raised his head to those bleeding clouds.
“My masters above, grant me sight.”
And made a plea heard only by those addressed.
His blood warmed and his skin began to burn with divine light, his might was never his own, when needed They would step in to guide his hunt, Power coursed through his veins and his search multiplied a dozen times over in intensity. The rain trickling down his face evaporated at the touch of his skin, the vapor coursing upwards with flecks of gold beginning to sparkle in its midst.
On a dark road leading out of the city, a figure of black shadow felt that place where a soul should’ve been tingling with sensation for the first time in a thousand cycles. They had hoped to do their job, eliminate the foolish whisperers and leave before the Interloper rose above the horizon but it seemed they had run afoul of Fate. They braced not by locking their stance as most would but by instead concentrating their shadows, pulling the darkness flecking off them back into their core. They looked up at the grey sky full of clouds and dodged to the side, dissipating and reforming as a golden spear carved its way into the street, breaking stone like a [Fireball] through ice.
The Hero fell upon the shadow, a golden trail of light erupting along his path as he leaped kilometres across the town. His sword, mithril and enchanted beyond belief, passed clean through Hero’s quarry, eviscerating the hard packed dirt path behind it in a flash of gold. The few civilians attempting to leave the city under a storm quickly hid as they recognised that two Pathwalkers were duking it out, not that Raine would ever let them come to harm but it was best to have them out of the way. In the time it took them to take shelter Raine had thrown dozens of perfect jabs and slashes at the dark thing hitting nothing but black as it dissipated at will constantly reforming in a dance that saw them move further down the street.
A spirit maybe. Faybirth swings close this time of year I suppose. Perhaps it has no Class at all then?
He led a slash into a smooth sheathing of his sword replacing his weapon of choice with his fists. Whatever it was, it wasn't taking any noticeable daMage from his attacks. Bare skin could better transmit divine power and by Raine’s judgement, that was exactly what was needed here. Also importantly, it wasn't dealing any daMage either. Its path of reformation took it away from the Hero at every chance it got indicating a need to flee the situation. Meaning when it got the chance it would….
The thread pulled.
It leaped left attempting to sink through a window to the safety of hostages, Raine lanced a golden spear between it and the building shearing a path through the air and forcing the shadow to reform backwards a second, enough for the Hero’s own leap to collide with it. He gripped it in a hold burned into instinct by practice a thousand times over. Predictably, his hands went right through the shadow.
This land is Our domain. Are you the Enemy? We will see.
“
Raine shout echoed throughout the air banishing the rain, this time making his grand proclamation for all to hear. And it was true, from the wastes that quartered the subcontinent to the Free Cities of the Bay of Bashiran, the lands knew no master but the Choir and their Lady.
Shining chains erupted from his arms, locking the shadow in place around himself. Pulled close to the creature he could now glean some of its truth, it smelt dusky like a midnight walk and Raine could swear he saw something slither in the depths of its shadowy mass. Trapped in a prison of divine light the thing struggled for freedom, writhing and contorting to find any weak point in the array. The chains did not relent, banishing all wisps of it attempting to flee the cage Raine had summoned upon it. Only a second had passed since he trapped it and already a thousand attempts had been made to escape.
There in the air above the street Raine contorted himself, levering over his quarry and bracing himself on a pane of light he summoned under his feet, or over his feet if you looked relative to the ground a dozen or so metres below. He buckled his legs, diverting as much divine power as possible to those muscles that pushed against the floating pane. His feet glowed as he finally pushed off. From the outside it was a momentary flash, and then a small shockwave as he slammed the shadow into the dirt blasting a crater under it.
Darkness slipped off the creature in the impact, large amounts shearing of its mass and it seemed to Raine that it might’ve finally taken real daMage. Now was no time to let up the assault and so the chains pulled ever tighter on it as he began pummeling it into the small crater that expanded with every punch Raine threw into its core. Flash after flash after flash of gold as tens of hits decimated its mass every second. Divine light gave those strikes speed, weight and holiness ensuring the thing could neither dodge nor withstand the continued assault. Raine’s heart was beating now and he could feel the rush of battle working its way through him like the satisfaction of a good workout. Or more accurately the rush of fighting the Enemy.
“I had hoped that I could gain something from you.” he spat between heavy breaths and heavier blows. “But I suppose your destruction is enough.”
He saw it now, deep in its form laid a mess of brambles cradling an orange sac, pulsing and writhing while spewing darkness to cover itself. Lady’s grace, it looked like something out of Ka’arghul, unlikely to be so with the guild safeguarding that dead place, but still, a horrifying sight. Raine smiled at that, horrors were familiar, they were the stem of his duty. The sole thing he was ‘supposed’ to combat. The folly of man saw him take on much more varied opponents but the monsters of the night were always the Enemy he was made for.
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If it was a simple assassin who killed the [Smuggler] instead, originating likely from a scheming nation or the Praetorian Church, it would be much more complicated. And doubtless he would never receive the delight and vindication of sinking his fists into something that deserved nothing less than full annihilation for the crime of its existence.
But this thing, its death would fill Raine’s core with that glorious feeling of pure Heroism, like the scourge the illegal leaves and drugs of Comerciante inspired; it was an addictive sensation he would never stop pining for. All Heroes longed to duel the Enemy, maybe it was Heaven that made them so, or perhaps it was only those with that particular insanity that qualified for the Choir’s champions. Either way, Raine was one.
He reeled his right fist back and drove it into the dark brambles screaming a declaration to the beast who understood none of it.
“River take you!”
He gripped the orange pulsating heart of the thing and began to rip it out. The creature did not scream, instead it struggled, claws and tendrils spinning out of it desperate to release their master. They didn't succeed, Raine’s glowing hand ripping the orange sac further and further every second until it threatened to burst. So close to victory Raine could feel that feeling of triumph building in his heart, it was like a subtle adrenaline pushing him harder and fur-
He dodged right, a pitch dark claw trailing shadow as it sliced through the air where his head had been moments before. The claw was attached to another pitch coloured creature, yet this one was smaller and only carried a singular fang, a lesser or copy it seems.
It was not alone, at least two other lesser shadows crawled down the buildings, undulating as they circled the Hero. They all carried that singular sharp weapon within their mass, Raine had an instinct that the claws they wielded were more dangerous than they seemed. Worse still, Raine felt the diving bindings fade as the original tore free and joined its comrades. No longer did it seem to want to flee, with their numbers and ambush all the shadows pounced on the lone Hero.
“Ladies Grace.” he muttered, running at them with his fists sparkling before they could entrap him. As he did Tendrils and claws burst out of the creatures reaching towards Raine with only one intent. Mentally he designated them by the numbers they had arrived in and with threats abound he fell into familiar rhythm.
Dodge left, punch the original's head while it passes to force dissipation downwards, turn and kick off it into the air. Create a pane to smash down immediately into the second twisting around it using chains to place it in the way of the thirds attack. Blast through the momentarily dissipating second and attack the third, allow third to dissipate back and duck first’s attack. Blast original with a pulse of divine energy and angle your body to have the enchanted plate receive the fourth’s ambush strike.
The pressure of the strike pushed him back and nearly made him lose his focus. But he was no beginner rank.
Leap left and run alongside the building towards the original. Deflect strike from third with left hand and punch midsection with right hand. Turn and kick off the wall slamming third into the street on the other side. Dash right dodging original. Block fourths hidden strike with a pane and chain its claw. Whip claw in the way of first’s continued attack and simultaneously with free arm deflect third’s impending claw with metal bracer. Pivot and unsheath sword blocking second’s dark claw mid sheath. Slash straight through the second and throw a single jab at the first to keep distance. Throw divine infused sword strikes at the now approaching fifth and sixth allowing the projectile portion of the attack to stall them for a moment.
To watch the fight as a mere mortal was to see a plated figure flash around the street constantly in motion while shadows hounded his every step like dogs of the night. It was a dance, a ballet of death and destruction, but a dance nonetheless.
Yet despite his skin being unmarred and strikes near perfect, the Hero pulled back, panting as the fight passed the twenty second mark.
Now, assess damage on all targets.
The original was seemingly in perfect form having regained all shadowy mass from its earlier entrapment. The rest though, the daMage on them seemed to stick to their forms. The second, third and fourths all wore holes and scars in their mass from Raine's assault, not to mention they seemed weary of approaching the Hero. The fifth and sixth were actually forced to block the divine projectiles sent their way. That meant the copies were inferior to the first and could receive lasting daMage more easily. Raine’s eyes narrowed and he smirked.
Then he looked at the street and stopped smirking. It was torn to shreds. Deep gauges that leaked dark smoke and small craters still sparkling with divine light covered the once intact visage.
Ah, Raine you fool.
He had gotten a bit too enthusiastic against the creatures. He was not a subtle weapon by any means and collateral daMage was inevitable. Still though, innocents getting hurt but his action was not something he would ever allow, not unless it was to save more innocents but this situation was not one that required a sacrifice. He would just have to pull back a notch to ensure less wanton destruction…..
Or he could go all out. No. Not yet at least. He would need someone to cover him for that. Surely his party had already left the inn though right? They were taking their time in any case.
Whatever, even if they were here, that card would best be held for now.
Raine examined his own condition and found something surprising. The claws of the shadow creatures had gouged into his masterwork plate. Shadowy lines cut deep into the metal, Hells, the claws would have carved through him had they touched his skin. And the shadowy essence that wafted off the cuts was also ringing alarm bells in his head. Like a festering wound or nascent infection he could see hints of the creatures in the wounds they dealt. His divine sight confirmed the now evident fact that Raine had to avoid getting hit at all costs.
That would be a difficult task. The second long reprieve that allowed Raine to examine the situation was over. The now six creatures circled knowing that the Hero was at a disadvantage, he could not let his skin be touched, while they could absorb his divine strikes in the dozens. His eyes locked onto the first and he wondered why it would not just run away now that it had the chance.
Ah, you’re like me huh?
It was a revolting thought, to be in tune with the Enemy. But still, Raine had a hunch the creature hungered for his demise the same way he did its. It wouldn't leave, not now that it had all its shadows alongside it. Gold flecked off the Hero as his heart thumped loud enough for all to hear, to look upon the street now was to see a figure emanating pure light amidst a sea of void shades. Raine found himself bracing in excitement for what was to come, he would not be a victor unscathed but he trembled in trepidation thinking of finally purging that dark thing from this world. Bloody it would be, but glorious too. He was ready now, and so was it.
The first shadow approached claw reared back in anticipation-
Silver chains wrapped around it flinging it far into the air and beyond Raine’s view. It happened in a split second, silvery links catching it as it pounced, instantly locking it in and throwing it in the same motion. Raine recognised them instantly, a dual Bind Skill,
“Need a hand Hero~.”
A young beautiful woman with a veil over her eyes stood above the street, dressed in a billowy yet fitting robe that hugged her while displaying embroidered holy symbols. She looked quite ghostly standing against the grey sky. White cloak and veil doing nothing to hide a saintly visage of platinum blond hair.
As her divine might unfolded upon reality he could hear the whispers of the Choir on her breath, she was second only to the Heroes and Saints in Communion. Thousands of Divine Bindings had been wrapped around her soul for the Power she wielded, and more than few simply around her ample figure, though Raine had figured out those were just for appeal.
Fillian the Maiden had arrived. And of course she had to have an entrance.
That Founteau lilt to her voice always managed to annoy him beyond words. Her very tone enforced a superiority upon all who heard it yet retained that playful melody as if she spoke to a child, its rhythm bordered on seductive but never crossed that line, intentionally of course. She would never settle for anything but making everyone in a room feel some type of way about her. For Raine that feeling was a dull annoyance, if tempered slightly by an appreciation for her strength, especially in this moment.
For now, he would squash his dislike of the Grand Church’s emissary.
“Yes.” he answered her honestly. “Where are the others?”
“Well.” she floated down off the rooftop golden flecks trailing her descent. “Fragor said something along the lines of ‘im go-
“-ONNA PURGE THESE BASTARDS!” The small mountain named Fragor shouted as he smashed through a storefront swinging his warhammer with a [Combined Strength] against one of the five shadows.
No mundane human could do what he did, for he was not human but barak’kurth, made of stone and earth, golems of an ancient Age who stole their sentience. Though that was only half of what made Fragor the Mighty. His status as a [Guardian of Stone], a Late Mid Class, contributed more, with his [Combined Strength] eviscerating the top half of the shadow leaving no doubt to his namesake.
“Yes.” she said flatly, “That. As for the kitty and prince they shou-”
“Ugh, these losers have no pockets Rainy!!” The felinoid girl shouted in a honeyed tone, sinking her knife into a shadow, effortlessly cutting through its darkness mass.
Her [Soft Paws] offered stealth beyond anything Raine could muster, allowing her to blend into the background until she struck. Though now with the Skills reach ended, her red hair stood out vibrantly amongst the void coloured creature whilst her feline ears of a darker red flattened against her head in disappointment, tail following suit in synchrony.
Raine admired the grace with which she fought the shadow, and with which she faced every activity. As you’d expect, it was a feline movement of soft slinking curves and flexible steps that the red eared woman used to navigate the world. And of course, to dodge and strike as she wished.
His reply to the [Theif]’s stereotypical declaration was cut off by a chivalrous figure ploughing through another dark creature. A [Powerful Lance] ran through the beast, dragging it along the course of the strike and impaling it deeply upon a building.
“Indeed, these monsters lack any grace of civilization.” Lance, whose name had to be a work of Fate, spoke like the royal Federasi he was. Stentorian, polite and gallant to a fault. “Though you are missing their clear intelligence dear Catherine, to exhibit such tactics and decision making. Though they cannot be that smart if they haven't started running yet.”
The brown haired man needed no steed to be a [Lancer]. Just his legs and, well, a lance. The weapon in question was no ordinary thing, it was the Lance of Ardruin, an artifact of the many Continental Wars and a piece of mithril enchanted beyond reason. It was the Power of the weapon, and of Lance, himself that rendered the shadow creature pinned against the wall a broken and bleeding mess. Even Raine was forced to uncharacteristically wince at the destruction.
“Shush Lancey.” The beastgirl replied to Lance, dodging a flurry of claws and tendrils. “More stabbing.”
“Of course!” He hefted his weapon, its height taller than Raine himself, and looked towards the Hero, bowing slightly in continental style. His ochre skin reflected the sun that somehow shone through the clouds only solely him, his brilliant visage embodying the princehood he abandoned. “Ladies Grace to the Hero of Zalfari and Lady Fillian.”
“Lady’s Grace, Prince and Kitty.” Fillian offered whilst her voice struggled to remain so melodic anymore.
“Greetings.” Raine waved with his offhand. “Apologies for the impromptu mission.”
“It is no issue of course!” he boomed excitedly, striding over to them. “Except that I now have casus belli to do the same!”
Helldamn.
“But I must ask Lady Fillian, have you seen our darling Alice?”
Fillian waved her hand at Lance quietly {Cleansing} the dark filth of the creature off of him.
“You all left the inn at the same time so I cannot fathom why you are all arriving so staggered, ” Fillian sighed, her left eye beginning to twitch beneath her veil. “but if i had to guess, Alice going to make an entrance and cut me of-”
A creature that was attempting to flee was utterly crushed by a boulder tons in weight. No Divine or Skillborne Power expunged in its impact. Just simple weight and gravity. {Levitation} to get it into the air, nature to bring it back down. Violently.
Alice floated down with that very Spell, maniacally laughing in a nasally display of her delight at her favourite pastime. Floating things up and bringing them down on things she didn't like. The Fourth Circle Mage, a sign of genius given her youth, had a personality that some found illfitting against her girlish looks, but Raine knew than to judge a {Fireball} by its brightness. That said, her personality could be a bit egotistical at times.
“Behold!” the floran girl half shouted as her flowery hair spread out like a cape, complimenting her descent quite elegantly. “I have arrived to save you Manaless peasants.”
Florans walked a thin line between fauna and flora, or perhaps they just broke that natural border entirely. Either way the humanoid race with green skin and lush tendrilly hair were a stunning sight to most, only surpassed by the interfolk, barak’kurth and hundermen in alienness from humanity.
Though this particular example would likely be labeled more so ‘terrifying’ than alien as she began stalking towards another shadowy creature with ill intent. Alice’s quarry skulked back as she hemmed it into a prison of magic. The floran threw {Lights Orb}s and {Fireball}s in the path of the creature forcing into two options, weather magical bombardment or divert into her prison. Lance’s estimation of the creature’s intelligence was faulty it seemed, it could survive the magical attacks, its weakness being restricted to Divine sources. Yet instead it followed Alice’s game allowing the laughing Mage to trap it in a prison of Spells.
Unless it’s going for h-
The creature reversed course, reforming directly at the floran, its speed was far faster than it had let on throughout the fight, claw ready to slice into the girl. Raine began to sprint towards the girl as his Divine Bindings blazed, ready to burn the city to protect his friend. The Choir flowed a song into him through the thread as he powered up his only option, the attack that made him a Her-
An arrow took the creature’s head as it leaped in attack, tracing a course right by the floran’s head; it was a perfect shot, it forced the creature to reform backwards as Alice punished it for its attempt. Raine recognised the Skill used in the shot, a [Ranger]’s [Heavy Arrow].
Calming his heart and glancing back at the others, the Hero shouted into the rain strewn air.
“Elaine!”
Only the sounds of Fragor’s ongoing duel and Alice’s revenge met him.
“She’s doing her thing.” Fillian offered, entirely too relaxed for Raines' liking. “I think she’s a little extra vexed due to your impromptu mission little Hero. At least she didn't cut me off like the others. ”
“Lady Elaine is correct to be irate.” Fragor shouted whilst manhandling two of the shadows at the same time. “You shouldn't rush alone into these things captain!”
“Nuh uh Frag didn't you hear Lancey?” Catherine ducked her own shadow’s strike cutting at its ankles. “Now we have permission. I can't wait to leave everyone in the dark while I run off!"
“The thread offered.” Raine shrugged, throwing a projectile her way to relieve some pressure on the furry [Thief]. “I had to do take i-
An arrow streaked past his head spearing through the creature Lance impaled upon the wall. It ran so close he could feel it touch upon his blonde hairs, a shot that nearly gave him the honour of meeting the Lady herself. Raine knew it wouldn't hit him, but still, something that close was no small thing. It made for a powerful message.
“Do we really have permission now?” Elaine’s monotone staticky voice sounded tight as the elf stalked out of an alley. Then again it always does. “If so, I would like to hunt the Powerful one now.”
No, she's definitely more irate than usual.
…….I think.
Luckily Alice addressed the prickly elf before Raine was forced to.
“That arrow was a bit close, elf!” she shouted back. “I think you took off a flower!
“Yes.” The [Ranger] strung another arrow back. “I never miss.”
That was Elaine in a nutshell. Raine tried to look on the ‘glass is half full’ side of things. She had come to help them, even if her shots were a bit too close for comfort. On purpose. But she was right about never missing so perhaps it could be excused. By Raine at least.
Another [Heavy Arrow] sunk into the floran’s quarry, once again gracefully sweeping inches from her bright green skin.
“.....you're gonna pay for that!” Alice shouted burning half of the street in the general direction of the creature.
She was smart enough to not throw a {Fireball} at her elven rival in the middle of a fight. Though Raine was not gonna enjoy mediating their argument later, hopefully Fragor would be there when the explosions inevitably started.
They were an eclectic group, a Powerful one too. Which made many question why they followed the lead of a boy barely above the boundary of adulthood. The answer was simple.
He was the Hero. They were his party. It was up to him to make the decisions that mattered, to lead fearlessly into the cold night. The shadows began to regenerate, not a single one having been fully destroyed, and Raine began to consider his options.
Every member of his party was engaged with the creatures, even Filian who had fallen into a supporting role for Fragor. They could continue battling for hours if needed, but where would that get them. His party could occupy the creatures left while he dealt with the issue directly. Looks like there's only one way forward. It was unfortunately the most often solution Raine ran into.
Raine addressed his party, "I'm going to strike the original!” he shouted while leaping dozens of metres into the air in a single motion.
His jump reached its peak and he began to descend, wind blazing against his face, until gravity faltered and the Hero started hovering stably far above the town. There he drew his sword in all its full divine glory and let his Bindings go haywire. His body heated up with glory as golden Power pumped out of his heart and through his veins culminated in his hands. They shone like stars as his sword began to share siphon Power from him for its activation.
I would have liked to interrogate it. To uncover this disaster in full. But he couldn't. What mattered now was making sure the thing could not hurt anybody else.
He could see the creature, but his senses told him what was needed. Hefting that ornate longsword of aureate brilliance above his head, with the hilt pointed towards his masters, he readied his strike. Alone and untouched, a body of Choir and courage stood atop nothing as it burst with a light beyond any sin. His sword began to release its Age old chains unleashing to its full extent, its glowing mass growing far beyond the physical steel that burned against Raine’s hands.
In the days passing after the event, towns hundred leagues from Lovenstadt would send reports describing an event in their skyline. A massive flash of graceful light across a whole cardinal direction, a burst that rendered the sky a luminous gilded sea in its wake. Some had thought it an early celestial event, Faybirth’s wrath or a flare from the Gift. The Guild would initially hypothesise the use of a Master Tier Skill or the emergence of an Elder rank threat upon the continent of man.
The Grand Church dispelled all doubt with its singular controversial reply.
“Disregard all fear, a Hero, Raine of Zalfari, unleashed a
And so it was that the Hero began to speak on behalf of his masters so far Above.
“IN THE NAME OF THE GODDESS OF LAST EVE.”
Raine heaved his sword, now over a dozen meters in length, over his shoulder and then in an instant, down through the storm, cutting deeply into the grey masses of cloud that stood in its path. The storm was severed, tons of water disintegrated instantly as the sword slammed through it. The rain fell and Raine fell, most water vaporised whilst the rest was subsumed and burnt as Divine fuel for his holy descent. The glowing Hero assailed the earth with his weapon, blasting towards his target beyond the speed of words and song. One moment the scared citizens of Lovenstadt saw that giant blazing sword move, the next, they saw the horizon burn.
“LET THE RIVER TAKE YOU AND YOUR SINS.”
The creature heard its end oncoming and knew a fear deeper than the darkest pit of Hell. It reformed left and right, and up and down, and in any direction that would throw the oncoming death astray. But no desperate weave could bring it far enough from Raine and his scorching vista.
“BLESSED ARE THE WARRIORS.”
The Hero made direct contact for a split second, gazing into what laid within the orange sac of the nightmare. Ecstasy wracked his body as his wish was granted, an Enemy in horrific truth laid before his steel.
“ACCURSED IS THE ENEMY.”
And the world went gold.
“Little Hero.”
Filian softly began to speak in a hesitant manner to Raine while gazing upon the gouge in the hills of the town he know knew was called Lovenstadt. He should have known that before the situation developed but he hadn't expected the small trading town to be of any significance. The creatures and thread had changed that.
To be more accurate, Fillian gazed up at the gaping wound in the world Raine had created. Their party was nestled in the vertical crater of his making to examine the remains of the Enemy. It meant the walls of the newly created canyon rose many stories high around them blocking view of all but the Lady’s Gift shining above. Noticeably the sky was now lacking the storm that had previously existed in masses of raging rain, the Hero had erased all signs of it except for the specks of grey still holding on against the azure blue sea. His party had mixed opinions on his use of his ace Bind Skill but had all regardless wanted to see the product of his might.
The air felt cool and clean, but staticy, like the aftermath of a great storm. The smell of burning still pervaded the landscape due to the great masses of stone and wood vaporised in Raine’s attack. The Hero himself was still coming off the high of the kill as he turned to the Saintess.
“Was that…. perhaps overkill?” Filian crossed her arms, leaning forward in an eye-catching way. In that afterglow of divinity he had to artificially dampen his urge to kiss those scarlet lips of the veiled Saintess, or fall into the arms of the Federasi prince behind her. The feelings were annoying, extremely, very extremely minute desires inflamed beyond their width by the Choir’s blood running through his veins.
Lady, grant me purity. And she did so, the desire washing away in a flood of cold ice through his body, it wormed its way through his veins like a cold shower yet one that embraced him warmly all the same.
“I know I orchestrated the opportunity.” Filian said while examining the edges of the crater. “But I wasn't expecting a
The Blessing of Purity did present one issue though. Now he really wanted to punch the Saintess. Preferably in the face.
“That was the correct move, Champion of Light.” Luckily, Elaine interceded in her usual harsh tone. It felt good to be on the positive side of it for once. “Good must annihilate evil no matter the bystander’s loss. A shot refused is a shot missed.”
“Wow pointy ears, how callo-”
“Elaine I dislike when you say things like that.” Fragor wisely cut off Alice. What would I do without my [Guardian of Stone]. At least in regards to the hulking man of earth Raine’s infusion of Divinity did nothing but perhaps make him a bit more wistful. It was a testament to just how reliable the shield of the party was, even in another mind than his own he remained a stable anchor. “We are a Hero party, not a careless Guild squad. We do not have the be the destruction they paint us as.”
“Who’s the reason we have to pay for fire damage repair across half the fucking to-”
“Our Mighty friend is correct. We do this because it is right, not because we care about coin!” Lance the [Lancer] interrupted displaying a rare application of ‘reading the room’. Raine, at least, knew his temporary attraction to the dashing prince was simply carnal, that meant it was easily decimated, as had just done, or, in the worst case, substituted. Which was for the best considering the strange thing the ochre skinned man had going on with the [Thief] of their party.
“Well said, Lance.” Raine turned to his party. “Look at the corpse before us, especially you Filian.”
They looked at it, that nightmare scorched and unfolded. The creature's carcass was many times larger than its shadowy form, expanded like a giant ripcage with a punctured orange heart in the middle. If looked from the corner of his eye the Hero could catch a glimpse of the dead organ beating in an alien rhythm. The clones, or thralls of the original had dissipated when Raine struck, his estimation of the situation having been proved correct. A hundred years ago it would have been simply declared a full success and no complications raised. The Age of Progress had changed that, the advancing philosophies and ideals required a constant revaluation of every millenia long tradition, such as the one of letting Heroes free of consequence as long as they did their job.
“Yes, a lot of destruction was caused. The town will have to find new resources to survive.”
The hills Raine had rendered a valley were a vital source of lumber and stone for Lovenstadt, without it many would likely starve as the local economy failed. The Hero would do his best to rectify that with fairly large personal wealth but many citizens would still have to leave their homes for settlements with brighter opportunities.
“And not to mention the repairs needed to that street.”
He turned around and met the eyes of his party.
“But as far as we know, two men died today.” He needed no artificial tone to indicate how heavy that failure weighed on him. “A [Guardsman] and a [Smuggler.”
They hadn't found any bodies of the dead, only the certainty of Raine’s word that they had in fact died. The [Guardsmen] was still listed as missing but the Hero knew the truth of his Fate. That did not mean he lacked grief for it.
“So, no matter the cost in gold, we must impress a lesson upon the evils of this world.”
He looked up to the sky, at the Lady and her gift, at his Choiral masters, at the very Stars beyond. The Trinity that demanded the world’s Fate and tended the Path’s end, they graced him with that old mantle reaffirming him as their Hero.
“There is no thread where we yield.”
A respectful silence overcame the small canyon's inhabitants as they processed his words. He did not like giving rousing speeches, he was no Hero of Lyrice, but having his party raptured to his voice, free of bicker and banter for once, was a welcome event.
Of course, it did not hold long.
A radiant white flower floated to the ground as a knife snipped its stem in a blink, a [Steady Hand] easily parting the petaled ornament from the locks it was grown from.
“Fuck you Elaine!” The floran Mage moved to deck the [Ranger] with her straining vines barely being held back by Fragor in time.
“Fuck you Alice!” Filain's chains wrapped around the elf as the Saintess giggled in amusement. “Ill cut the rest off!”
“Helldamn, just go fuck eachother.” Catherine muttered usefully at the two before turning to the Hero hands behind her back. Her tail swung from side to side as she did, a foreboding sign of her next words. “Great speech Rainey, but does this thread allow me and Lance to go get lunch?”
“.............”
Lady please, your tests are far too harsh.
“Why are you asking Catherine?” Lance asked, genuinely perplexed. “Were we not granted permission?”
“Yeah but I mean.” Her red haired tail pointed upwards outlining the rim of the ravine. “You gotta give some respect to a man with a Bind Skill like that.”
“I do not wish to rain on our brave captain’s parade but that Power was only usable on-
“Heh……. Raine.” She giggled into her clawed hands much to her comrade’s continued confusion. “Like ‘rain’, cuz they sound the same lancey?”
“Wha-.” the princely [Lancer] suddenly let out a hearty laugh. “I swear upon the Ten Courts that it was un-”
“Just go already!” Elaine snapped at them while untangling herself from Fillians chains.
“Whatever you say little elf.”
“..........” The Hero of Zalfari stroked his temples while watching the two leave. The red haired felinoid leapt up the walls in small but rapid leaps while the black haired human devoured the distance in a great heave of his legs. It only took them a few seconds to abscond, at which point they were quickly followed by an elf dashing away much like Catherine and a floating floran who lazily rose into the skies beyond while shouting down at the trio remaining.
“I'M GONNA TRY BLOWING UP THAT BITCH!” Glyphs around her lit up as the Mage readied her magical arrays. “DO KEEP WELL MY LOYAL PEASANTS!”
“Keep it out of the town!” Fragor called after her receiving an intelligible reply of grudging affirmation.
“Fillian, Fragor.” He stared upwards at the Lady’s Gift, now exactly above them at its halfday height.
“Yes my Hero?”
“Raine?”
He turned to two, both loyally awaiting his next word.
“Can one of you make the speech next time?”
“Quite literally your job.”
Before he could address that ignominious statement a stony hand gently touched upon his left gilded pauldron.
“The others may not admit it, but, like me, they were roused by your words. Even if they perhaps don't realise it themselves, your steadfast soul will uplift them in their darkest hours.”
“......thank you Fragor, kurth na’kiln.” Raine knew little of the language the people of the Allkiln spoke, but just enough to pay the proper respects to a dear friend. “You are excused to go help with the reconstruction efforts.”
“You know me well my friend.” His gem-like eyes saw the Hero perhaps better than any other alive.
“And I will forever be in the Choir's debt for that.”
The man ascended the wall by simply walking up its side, allowing his feet to meld with the earthen walls for each step. Raine admired the smoothness and efficiency of his form
“Fillian.” Raine addressed the Saintess. “Contact the Guild, the Institute and the Academies. I want to know exactly what type of Enemy that was. Additionally liaison with the local government for recompense.”
“The Church will likely cover the reconstruction. But this doesn't look good on paper, all the bodies are missing and we have little idea what actually happened. You said there was a group of ‘buyers’, and I believe you, yet there's simply nothing left.” She replied stoically. “Thank the Lady, this didn't happen within the Great powers.”
She looked unusually serious as she began tracing his words into the air in golden strokes, sending off the
“That does not mean they will be silent. Lyrice will not care, the First String still prises the stories our Heroism weaves. Neither will Veiled Fraera act, as usual. But Federas and the Drakenholds? The latter has bought into the former’s Age of Progress, we cannot be sure they will not pressure the Church for consequences.”
“It does not matter.” he snapped back in a sudden flash of annoyance.
“It does! The Church needs funding and permission to operate within sovereign territories!”
“I don't need the Church.” He stepped closer to her. “I am a Hero. A rank given by those Above, not the mortal unions.”
People have died, what else could matter? The worldly bickering was getting on his nerves, more so as he stood under the hot sun basking in what was a victory .
“.......they will not be pleased.”
Another step closer.
“Well, Filian, in your next little missive to the Sainthood do remind them divine justice is not for sale.” He could smell that insufferable scent of rosemary felt and marble corridors now. “And that we have no God of Coin. Only a Lady of the Lake, whose waters will be kept pure by any means necessary.”
“Okay then.” she smiled. “I will relay that verily.”
“Do exactly that please, no detours.”
The veiled blonde still didn't move to leave.
“What if I see a pretty flower that would look just darling tucked behind your ear?
“................”
“Aw it already wore off? I was hoping to tease Fun Raine.”
“Why are you still here?”
She stared at the Enemy’s carcass slowly approaching the corpse with steady steps.
“What aren't you telling me?
She began to trace the very edge of the voided fleshy tissue. He knew exactly what she referred to. In that mind anchored by divine string thundered two names.
Audrick the Flame.
And the Cult of the Stars.
Someone would pay for this, and Raine would bet his soul in a heartbeat it would be one of those names.
“Nothing.” He stepped aside allowing her to rest her pale hand softly upon the orange heart. For any other person he wouldn't let such an act for fear of corruption. Madness, Chaos and their like, but for her, the Saintess Filian, he had no fear her purity would falter to a dead thing. “Send a sample to the Hieronymus Institute, better them than Federas or the Gui-”
“Hero Raine if you keep on like this.” She rose slowly like a crane unfolding its neck. “The Sainthood may revoke your Mandate.”
He faced those eyes, orbs of milky gold barely visible behind that holy veil.
“If I falter and lose Grace, so be it, I will be martyred as a cautionary tale.” He couldn't parse the look those little Stars gave him but he thought it might be sadness. Or pity. “If I succeed, I will light the dark path for others to bask in. Until Last Eve.”
“........ you will have my assistance either way.” She began to stalk off lightly letting her hand brush across his jaw. “Little Hero.”
“Thats the thing about good, Saintess.” His heart was heavy with purpose as he felt at the gilded thread. “It doesn't need assistance to be.”
It pulled.
And he looked towards the subcontinent, where his quarry laid, his Enemy.
“It just is.”
In a fortress hidden from all prying eyes, cloaked figures gathered around a corpse strapped across a dark metallic altar. A voice began to speak, its heavy gaunt tone echoing throughout the vaulted grey hall.
“Hmm, it appears the dance is on, Kalaworth.”
A pale man rose from his seat gracefully descending a black ornate staircase with his skeletal frame.
“Then let it be thus o Stars.”
With great flourish he sunk his hand into the corpse. A young human's desiccated body, greyed by early decomposition.
“A remedy hath none other than i spawned! I have dreamt of it ever since Hieronomyius uncovered thy cruelty of conclusion.”
He ripped out maggot ridden flesh and held it to the shadowed roof hundreds of metres above him.
“We shall let this thread close and burn anew constellations of untold futures. An infinity for us finite fools to revel in, a story everlong without a hint of denouement!”
No longer did the voice attempt to hide its insane depths. Shaky and manic it nonetheless moved forth into a speech of pure delight. As the flesh in his hands began to burn with an unholy flame, the great ceiling of the hall opened and something began to crawl out. A horror from a deep far beyond the reaches of all but the truly damned.
“Seed the Starchildren! Sear the continent! Beyond man's grace, let the world glean our christened appellation! Our Cult of the Stars!”
Skeletal, fleshy, bulging, leaking, crying, breathing. All descriptors fell silent as they failed to give proper heed to the thing that came through the portal.
“From the Interloper’s Landing to Ka’arghul’s depths let them ALL revel in our ecstasy!”
One of the cloaked men was taken by it. Devoured in a blink as the remains of his gore fell from the ceiling and joined the corpse in a butchery mess.
“Hieronomyius uncovered thy trickery o heavenly bodies!
And another one was taken. In a great hand that crushed him as it pulled him to its mass.
“THUS DO I DECLARE WAR UPON THE STARS!”
And another.
“WAR UPON THE APOCALYPSE!”
And another.
“AND WAR UPON THE PATH’S END!”
And another.
“UNTIL WE ALL WAKE FROM THIS DREAM!”
Finally the thing fell from its perched portal. Collapsing upon the altar crushing the last of the shadowed figures. It stared at the manic man with a thousand eyes as it began to bristle and pulse with a dozen new heartbeats. Yet it did not consume the Speaker as it had the cloaked men. It simply spoke, not with a mouth, but with Power.
Let us begin then, my love.
The continent spun in a knot of Destiny as a thousand Powers conspired in opposite directions.
An Age of Progress charged forward, desiring a future ever advancing.
A mother took upon the desperate work that a Trinity should have performed.
A Hero quested towards his Fated victory.
The universe began to end.
And a boy fled his village.
“So rise, Audrick.”
The Speaker fell to his knees in a pose of pure prayer offering only his most sincere hatred for the Stars Above.
“First blood draws near.”
He cried in crazed delight in the horror's shadow.
"And remember, Power is the only thing that matters."