Day 25 of Month 4: Lindela - District 5


"Man..! That was intense..! I can still feel the adrenaline in my veins!" a knight mouthed off while doing his hundred and fiftieth push up.

Other knights he was similarly training with turned their attention to him, "Do you mean.. adrenaline from the last set?" the female one asked him in return.

"Chigusa..." Seven huffed out her name between labored breaths, "Olen meant our... first mission.. as a squad!" he groaned after pushing himself up for the last time.

Eight collapsed just after spending his final spurt of energy, "Yeah..." he wheezed, "He's been on about it for days now..."

Six knights deflated to an exhausted bunch after finishing the final set of their daily training routine. Some of them took the effort to find shade from the blazing sun, while the rest showered themselves with the water from their canteens. Their bespectacled squad mate, after settling underneath a tree for shade, began looking around. "Hey.." he turned to his squad mates, "I don't suppose any of you have seen our Vice Captain today as well have you?" he asked curiously, earning himself headshakes from the others.

"I think the Captain sent her on a mission.." Eight speculated, forcing healing magic to his burning arm muscles. "She is after all, probably the one truly reliable knight among us." he ended with sad expression.

"A mission hard enough to keep her away for days?" Chigusa tossed her own question. "You think she... went back to Knight Commander Sigfried because... of us?" she then added.

A melancholy air descended upon the group, thoughts loitering around the idea of their weakness. They all knew and understood the reason they had to go through hellish training everyday since this squad came to be; the truth became painfully obvious during their first mission. None of them were up to par with future battles ahead of them, and their Captain knew that. Seeing how their Captain fought off and eliminated that Reaper single-handedly, it reminded them humbly of their capabilities. It became no question why their Captain just ordered them to stay back and wait that time. If he could take the Reaper down on his own, then the reason they were all brought along was to show them a glimpse of their future as Pristine Knights through that mission. Harsh as it may seem, it was for the better that their Captain chose to show them firsthand.

"I really wish the Vice Captain was here to lift our spirits..." Reinhardt, their resident four-eyes, thought out loud.

The words reached the well-hidden Yulia behind a wall; she felt a pinch in her heart. How many days had it been since she started skipping her duties? It had been more than a few. Still, after that night?, there was just no way she could possibly face that man again.. not now, and probably not any time soon. But... she peeked at her current squad mates. If they think that highly of her, what she's doing now is letting those guys down right? Yulia gritted her teeth, indecision warring inside of her. For their sake, she needed to be on that squad now more than ever, but for her own sake, it's better if she kept her distance.

"How selfish..." she grumbled, looking at her brother's necklace she held in one hand. Half of her knew what she should do, yet the other half kept her at a standstill, seeking solace from the memento of her late twin brother.

"What should I do?"





Day 26 of Month 4: Barrens


"There is no telling what this would do to you given daily intake! I have yet to figure out if there are any side-effects to it at all!"

Knight Hyuga's reminder rang ominously in Akira's ears. Five days, it had already been five days since he set foot on this desolate wasteland to gather intel on the enemy, yet the fruits of his endeavor remained unripe for the picking. The exhausted scout laid still behind a large rocky formation, resting his weary body while he gazed at the last bottle of Hyuga's 'miracle powder' in his inventory. He had already consumed four, just to sustain his magic reserves during this prolonged stay, and it seemed like he needed to consume this last bottle as well to keep his Prayer up...

A thought suddenly crossed his mind; he needed to save this bottle for the trip back to the rendezvous point. Should he consume it now, he would no doubt run out of magic to protect himself from the taint when it was time to get back.

It was hard enough to have to move as fast as he possibly could to cover more ground, yet even harder to maintain a delicately controlled Prayer for protection as he did so. Akira's magic proficiency had been put to the ultimate test. His Prayer needed to be strong enough to protect him from the Essence of Sin that plagued the land, yet it must also be weak enough for him to remain undetected. Still, having to keep Prayer up non-stop, it was exhausting given that he had been doing it since day one. Tired eyes averted their gaze from the bottle, only to land back at the map he held with his other hand.

He had just crossed out another possible location—the twenty-ninth he had checked. Where are they?!

Akira sighed in defeat, it looked as if he was going to have to come back empty handed. Surprisingly, he has yet to encounter Sinners in this journey! Should he be thankful? Or should he be frustrated? A frown contorted his usually stoic expression. He was specifically looking for the enemy's main camp, yet he was feeling thankful he has yet to encounter a Sinner or any dark force that now inhabited these dead lands? Pathetic. Akira began to feel anxious. Perhaps his exhaustion was starting to get the best of him? Or maybe it was sleep deprivation? He bet on the latter. Maybe he should sleep, even for just an hour...

Purple eyes suddenly snapped back open the instant he felt them close, simultaneous with the momentary flicker in the shroud of Prayer that surrounded him. What was he doing?! He couldn't afford to sleep! Otherwise his Prayer would collapse absent conscious control and then everything that led him up to this moment—everything he was fighting for again will all be for naught! Akira looked at his right hand; a speck of red around his ring finger caught his attention..

No. He would not give up! He would not return empty-handed!

Battling the colossal urge to sleep, Akira forcefully willed himself back to his feet despite the silent screams from his body. His weary eyes stayed trained at the vast expanse of dismal land before him. There was one more place he could afford to check given what little time and resources he had left. Looking at the map one last time, Akira marked the location and began mapping his course.

Best get to it while he was still cognitively functional.





Golden eyes slowly creaked open upon feeling an unwanted sensation; the Light was near. A crooked grin broke out on his lips after taking a moment to trace the origin. For one so weak to have the audacity to wander in their territory.. what a foolishly admirable deed. The newly awakened man tried to sit up, only to stop upon realization that there was weight on top of him. He looked down, until his eyes could finally see the bulge beneath the lavish blanket that draped him. With a careful motion of his right arm, the man grabbed hold of the blanket's edge and gently lifted it up, only to see a lightly snoring Eve rested on top of him. He smiled at the sight of her little queen that rested peacefully in his presence. She had done so much for him, the least he could do to repay her was to let her rest a while longer. Whoever this intruder was, would feel his wrath another way...

The man closed his eyes again, focusing on the presence of Eve's faithful subordinates, "Hear me servants of Eve, we have a visitor. Find him and destroy him! Give no quarter! The Light does not belong here."

Hearing his voice echoing inside their heads, Eve's Dark Valkyries turned to one another, nodding in acknowledgment of their lord's orders. Moments later, three of the Dark Valkyries headed out from Eve's fortress. Even though they could feel no presence of the Light nearby, if their lord said there was such a presence, they would find and take it out.





Day 27th of Month 4: Grand Cathedral - Magic Research Division, 4th Floor


The Grand Cathedral's fourth floor, the place where the Magic Research Division does their 'magic'. Though Guilford knew of its function, he hardly ever sets foot in this place (for the sake of not being a guinea pig) unless he absolutely has to. The male Seraph was currently standing outside Councilor Margarette's office, waiting for the Councilor to have time for him. He had turned over Fiona's gift to Councilor Margarette for analysis days ago and was looking forward to results. Right now, they needed every bit of hope and means they can get their hands on to fight the God of Sin and defeat it again.

His thoughts were interrupted when the doors to Councilor Margarette's office opened, followed by a Scribe coming out to approach him. "Sorry to keep you waiting Master Guilford, the Councilor will see you now." the Scribe moved to the side to give way for him.

"Thank you."

Inside, Guilford found himself suddenly frozen at the unusual sight of the Councilor. Piles and piles of books and research materials were scattered all around her table, and the female Councilor paced endlessly back and forth behind her desk. She held the scroll he gave her delicately in one hand, the other searching her overly large bookcase expertly, obviously for another book. The only semblance of organization could be seen at the center of her desk, where a sheet of paper riddled with words lay undisturbed by the surrounding mess.

"Did I come at a bad time, Councilor?" he asked, more out of keeping appearances than politeness.

"How could there be a good time when..." she stopped abruptly, having enough presence of mind to realize that she was not in a warded zone, "I'm swamped with work?" she added needlessly. When the God of Sin has been revived, was what she really wanted to say, "Forgive me Master Guilford," she gathered her composure in an instant, "did you come to check on the progress about this scroll?" her tone became more mellow and accommodating.

"I apologize for having to rush you, Councilor." he looked around, taking note of the Scribes and researchers loitering in the back portion of her office, "If you could please give me an update."

Councilor Margarette waved her hand that held the scroll dismissively, quietly telling the Seraph to dispense with the formalities. She motioned for Guilford to come closer and take a look at the sheet of paper she had on her desk. "As you have initially said, this is connected to the Rite of Ascension Master Guilford, but the steps and procedure greatly differ. This is more.. archaic."

"Differ? More archaic? What does that mean?"

Councilor Margarette let out a contemplative hum at the question. Truth is, she still had no idea even after going through the oldest magic records and books she had at her disposal. "I can't say." she finally admitted and let out a long sigh, "All I have right now are half the instructions on how to conduct it. I need to finish decrypting the scroll if I am to have an idea of what this means, or its true purpose."

"Hmm.. maybe it's a ritual to make miracles happen?"

She felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of miracles. What was Master Guilford getting at? There's no way the Rite of Ascension would be related to that. "Is there something else you wanted to ask me about, Master Guilford?" she turned to him, intuition tingling. There was only one spell in existence that has the power to grant miracles, but that was best kept forgotten. Has Master Guilford found out about it? Is he thinking it could be used as a last resort in these 'trying times' as Councilor Cornelius mentioned days ago? Her train of thoughts were interrupted by the sudden softening in the male Seraph's expression.

"Ahh, forgive me councilor, I was being wishful—such magic spells don't exist.. right?" the male Seraph chuckled.

"Of course they don't. Life would be too easy if they did." she said flatly, eyes still locked on her guest.

The two stared at each other for a good minute before the male Seraph bowed, "Well then, I'll let you get back to it and stop pestering you with my wishful thoughts, Councilor." he flashed the old woman a professional smile, "Please, do notify me and Master Lethe of your findings should anything substantial come up." the smile left his lips, "May the Divine Light bless you with its guidance, Councilor."

"Of course, Master Guilford. May the Light grace your path too." she bowed as well and watched the Seraph step out of her office.

What was he looking for exactly?





Day 27th of Month 4: Gless - d'Arques Mausoleum

We give our everything
We ask for nothing
We stay loyal and serve the Light
We act with purpose for what is right
All of this we shall do with pride
And for all of this we give our might
Let this be our code, let this be our life
All for the greater good

Abel stared at the withered stone plaque hanging atop the mausoleum doors. Engraved on it was the d'Arques code; the one thing that had kept him going. For the longest time he had avoided this place, kept his distance, and mourned their losses on his own. What was once a great bloodline of knights, now reduced to crumbling memories, threatened to be forgotten with the passage of time. All because of the God of Sin, all because they tried everything in their power to stop him, but to what end? Where had all their effort led to? He was back again, and Abel was the one true knight left in their bloodline to stand in his way.

The old knight sighed as he pushed the mausoleum doors open.

Though considered hallowed ground, inside was still a sad and lonely sight. Numerous tombs lined the sides of the entire hall that led to an altar of the Light; all belonged to their bloodline. Abel proceeded further in, flowers carried in one hand. Today he would pay his respects for the last time, make one last promise, and see it through. The old knight stopped at the end of the hall and turned to his right. Abel knelt on one knee and placed the flowers before the one tomb in front of him.



"It has been a while since I last visited you two..." he trailed off, settling to a more comfortable position, "but I'm afraid I don't have good news." he continued and closed his eyes, recalling the fondest memories he had of his fallen subordinates. The old knight lost himself in nostalgic memories, and his musing went on for minutes, until a good hour had passed.

"I thought you two should know... Eve has returned," Abel's voice echoed within the halls once more, "and so did he." the knight added, his face darkened and further crinkled by a frown, "We couldn't stop her back then..." his tone fell solemn, "but I intend to now, even if it's the last thing I do." he vowed, balling his right hand to a fist, "Yves," Abel paused and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I know I promised you that I won't ever use your gift again, but this is the one chance I have left to see this through."



His eyes then turned to the name at the top of the tomb. "Nygel," he began, a melancholy smile parting his old lips, "Up until today, I never really understood why you took my place that time," he trailed off, memories of their battle with Eve in mind, "but now I think I finally do..." he glanced at the name below Nygel's, the smile he had fading in an instant. He had seen it back then, he just didn't want to admit it. Nygel loved the same woman he did, and even though he never admitted to it, Nygel's actions were more than evidence enough.



Blinking the memories away, Abel's expression sharpened. These two gave up their life following the d'Arques code, the least he could do now was to see it through that their sacrifice was not in vain. Abel then offered a silent prayer to all of the departed around him and picked up his sword. "Nygel, take care of her..." Abel slowly rose to his feet, "I'll see you guys soon."





Day 27th of Month 4: Gless - Caletta, Guilford's Manor (night)


Two old men watched Guilford train in his backyard. Master Jung, his guest for the night, was enjoying Corwin's company as well as his masterfully made tea. His keen eyes watched every move Guilford executed during his routine, nodding his head in approval time and again upon witnessing several moves he recognized. He turned to the butler with a wide smile after setting his cup down.

"Oh dear, he has grown quite a lot since the first time I saw this kid." he mumbled appreciatively.

Corwin bowed in response, "While I do not claim to understand combative arts, Master Jung, I have watched Master Guilford train to the best of his abilities time and again. Even a novice such as I could understand how skilled he had become over the years." he proudly said, turning his gaze at the Seraph in training.

Master Jung nodded in approval again, "Yes, he truly is something: His foundations are strong, most of his techniques are refined, and his instinct is on a completely different level! An excellent swordsman in my book." he bowed graciously after Corwin filled his tea cup again. "Oh look! He can even do Light Step!" Master Jung exclaimed after seeing the Seraph flash around the backyard, "I haven't seen anyone do that aside from Caldwell, the Divine Flash!" he continued excitedly, "How did he come across such a technique?"

Corwin paused to think for a good minute. "Well, Master Caldwell's daughter, Lady Brynhildr, was in the same class as Master Guilford when they were still in the PKA." Corwin helpfully supplied the answer, "I believe Lady Brynhildr taught Master Guilford the basics for uhh... Light Step."

"Is that so?" Master Jung turned his attention back at Guilford, "It's unrefined and lacks control, but this much is to be expected without proper guidance." he commented offhand, "But for him to be able to take it to this level on his own, that is quite an accomplishment." he smiled at the butler, "Would you be so kind as to hand me that wooden sword? I wish to give him guidance on its usage."

Corwin suspiciously eyed the old man, thinking that there could be no way he would be able to keep up with a youngster such as Master Guilford. Still, it would be a shame to turn down an offer to help the male Seraph improve further. With a polite bow, Corwin handed the wooden sword over and watched Master Jung step out to the backyard.

"Master Guilford?" the old man called to him from afar, "This is how you use Light Step." he said and poised himself to strike. Before Guilford could react, he felt a single tap on his ankle and the next thing he knew, he was on his back and Master Jung had the wooden sword pointed at his neck. Two moves. He was down and out in just two moves! "It is not meant for distraction or defense, Master Guilford, but for offense." he instructed the Seraph, offering a hand to help Guilford back to his feet. "Light Step was created to dispatch multiple enemies in the least amount of time, using it for any other means is a waste of a good move."

"Thank you for your guidance, Master Jung. I shall take it to heart." Guilford bowed in respect, "Have you already considered my request then?" he asked.

"I did." was the immediate answer, "However, I have yet to see Master Lethe's skill. My training is not easy Master Guilford—I need to know first if she can handle it before I train both of you."

"And how do you wish to see her in action?"

"Ahh such a trivial question." the old man laughed, "I want to see you two in a duel."

Guilford's eyes widened, thoughts of Lethe's Heaven's Judgment giving him immediate chills that ran down his spine. It was hard enough to fight her when she only had four of those swords, but now that she had eight? plus Luna? Guilford shuddered at the thought. Still, if it was Master Jung's only condition for him to agree training them, he would have to oblige.

"Of course. We can arrange that. I would let her know." he bowed appreciatively, "Thank you Master Jung."

_________________

[[Day 27 of Month -4 :: The Barrens]]

“Anrui.” The petite demon turned at the summons, head bowed in the presence of her master. “How are things going?” A tall, gangly figure emerged from the doorway. Most of his features were hidden under the swathing robes he wore but red eyes burned through the darkness that surrounded him.

“Well, Master Amon.” Anrui replied in a soft voice, moving out of the way to let her Master take her place by the window. Master Amon preferred meek demons, though the Sinners she oversaw might contest such a description of her. “Sinners 84 and 23 have started some promising projects. Sinner 57 is continuing the new crystal alloy and should have a prototype ready in the next few days.

The first Exalted nodded his head as he swept a gaze over the minions below. He trusted his Anrui to oversee their experiments which left him with more time for his own intellectual endeavors. The two lapsed into silence as the first demon contemplated his current experiment, boiling away in his laboratory. It was a variant of one of Anrui’s projects. He’d taken over once he’d seen the potential in it though she was already through her first testing, which reminded him, “And how is your project coming along?”

A smirk crossed the black-haired demon’s lips; her pretense of docility had no strength against the satisfaction at her success. “Very well, Master Amon. There is about sixty percent coverage already. It should be ready to be implemented in a week or so.”

“Very good, Anrui.” The commendation sent a thrill of pleasure through her. Luminescent golden eyes peeked up at the other demon before skittering away. “The God of Sin has returned.” Amon had felt reality scream the previous night of new moon as Eve had summoned his old friend back from oblivion. It had been quiet since, but Amon had no doubt it would be time for visiting soon. “I think your project should be a sufficient welcoming back present for my old friend.” In a rare display of affection, he petted the shivering demon on her head. “In two days’ time then.”

“Of course, Master Amon.”

[[Day 27 of Month -4, Afternoon :: Gless ]]

“Good job everyone! Dismissed!” With that rare shout of praise, Leona dismissed the trainees and turned to leave, following her own command. There were sighs of gratitude as the veterans lowered their swords and shields, slipping out of defensive stances into more casual ones. The buzz of conversation quickly filled the training yard as they started chatting. Dietrich let a sigh escape him as he too lowered his weary arms. His sword he stashed away in the scabbard by his hip, enjoying the solitude for a second. His arms no longer ached as much as they had when he first started. He no longer felt dead tired at the end of each training session. It was improvement. A pleased smile crept onto his face at that thought: he was improving.

The slap of a hand on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts and he turned to see another of his trainees. The shared experience of all being veterans, survivors of the First War, made camaraderie easy among all the trainees. The two were swallowed up by another group and they left the training grounds at an easy pace, discussing their training, the amazing battle between Masters Guilford and Lethe yesterday, and other random chitchat.

They were just leaving the Cathedral when Dietrich caught sight of a familiar silhouette. Joaquim! Making his goodbyes, he headed towards his old friend. “Joaquim!” He greeted cheerfully, stepping into place next to the other Knight. He was pleased to see he no longer looked like a twig next to the other man. He still had nothing on Joaquim but, he touched the growing muscles in his arm with a jolt of pleasure, he was catching up. His happiness waned at the sight of his old friend’s face. “Is something wrong?”

The smile Joaquim turned his way was strained. There was a pallor to his face that suggested unhealthiness and in his heart, Dietrich started to feel the stirrings of worry. What had happened? “I’m fine.” Joaquim replied ineffectually; he knew he’d failed to reassure Dietrich when the younger veteran looked more worried after such a brush off. He couldn’t blame the brunette; he wouldn’t have believed such poorly uttered words either. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Are Bianca and Jessiah okay..?” Dietrich asked with an anxious look, eyes darting in the direction of the Joaquim household. Despite what the other man said, Joaquim was his savior and his family was important to the newly returned Knight as well. There was a wave of relief when the black-haired Knight shook his head. “Jessiah has a bit of a cough, but he’s fine otherwise.” Dietrich nodded his head in acknowledgement; the Joaquim family was fine then. But what else could be bothering his friend?

“Uhm.. Is.. is everything okay with your squad..?” He tried hesitantly, knowing he’d succeeded when his friend’s face closed off immediately. His accomplishment brought him little joy. Whatever had happened was clearly not a good topic. The two walked a few more minutes in miserable silence before Dietrich meekly mentioned he needed to leave. Joaquim’s lack of protest just emphasized how poorly he’d done. With a feeble wave, the younger Knight scurried away.

[[Day 28 of Month -4 :: Rasova]]

Romauld lifted the last shirt on his bed, folded it, and placed it in the duffel bag. Turning, brown eyes swept over the room he’d called home for the past three years. It was empty now, devoid of the personal touches he’d inadvertently added over the years. The watercoloring of the West Lake, a reminder of his hometown from before the Rising, no longer hung on the wall; his collection of books had all been packed away. Its emptiness was disconcerting in its unfamiliarity, and he slowly sank into the mattress, taking a moment to absorb the solitude of the room. It seemed to contain a finality he’d been previously missing.

There was nothing like the sight of a home no longer being a home to drive in the fact it was time to move on.

He sighed slowly as he took a moment to let the events of the last few days settle into him.



[[Day 28 of Month -4, Morning :: The Grand Cathedral]]

“A spar?” Lethe echoed in confusion, glancing over at the dark haired man beside her. She’d been entering the Cathedral when Guilford had waylaid her, seemingly waiting in a mix of anticipation and dread. “We’re not supposed to fight needlessly..” She pointed out doubtfully despite the tendrils of interest pooling in her stomach. It was hard to improve when she only had herself and a mirror to judge her accomplishments against. It was an unfortunate fact that among the Immaculate, there were few who could give her a challenge. Of her enemies, there were more than enough but, a wry smile crossed her lips, she rather doubted she could ask them for tips to defeat them easier.

“It’s not needless fighting, it’s sparring—with the goal set to improvement.” the male Seraph countered almost immediately, “There aren’t a lot who could help ‘us’ in that matter now is there?”
She lifted an eyebrow skeptically but when her options were a chance to spar without having to hold back or a mountain of paperwork, her decision really wasn’t a hard one. “Alright!” She conceded with an amused smile, “Now okay? I have a meeting with Councilor Laith in the afternoon so it’ll have to be now or at night.” She hoped that it would be now though; meetings had the tendency to spawn even more paperwork and she couldn’t guarantee something ‘urgent’ might not come up and delay their spar.

“Now’s perfect.” Guilford agreed as he led the way to where Master Jung was waiting. “Master Jung will be watching us.” He warned; it wouldn’t be fair for her to be surprised when they reached the training grounds.
“Isn’t he supposed to be helping come up with the new training regime?” There was a niggling sensation in the back of her mind at her own words. Master Jung knew the gravity of the situation; she doubted he’d be wasting his time unless, “Or is this to help with a new training regime?” Lethe questioned, levelling a look that was half amused and half suspicious. A smile answered her question and startled a laugh from her.

“Oh wow..” For a moment she forgot she was twenty nine and had been a Seraph for over a decade. For a moment she was fifteen again, walking through the worn hallways of the Pristine Knight Academy with a fellow student, marveling at this unimaginable opportunity. “Master Jung huh?” Hands clenched in eager anticipation even as a shy smile broke out on her face. “I hope we’re worthy of his time.”

The male Seraph scratched his head in response, “If we weren’t, he wouldn’t be there.” her blue-haired companion smiled, “Let’s show him what Seraphs are capable of.”

Lethe laughed, feeling some of her tension dissipate at Gil’s confidence. Of course he’d think that. He was good at swordsmanship! As for herself.. She forced herself not to disparage her capabilities with the weapon. She may not be Chevalier but she could (she hoped) at least hold her own.

When they arrived at the training field, a smile was still lingering on her face at her own silliness. How weird to be reminded, again, that it had already been more than ten years since she’d last walked through the Pristine Knight Academy. A wizened face turned in their direction as they approached, etched with an amused elderliness reminiscent of the Knights who’d first taught her how to hold a sword back in Cascadia. Twenty nine and still taking lessons, still with the God of Sin looming over her. For once in the seven days since Fiona had revealed that terrible news, the thought didn’t fill her with despair. Instead, Lethe could only be amused by the odd circuity her life had taken: it was as if she’d never moved from when she was fifteen even though she was nearly twice that age.

“Master Jung,” She greeted with a bow, “Thank you for your time.” The elder nodded his head in acknowledgement, “I hope it’s worthwhile.” His wide smile took the insult out of his words but not the challenge.

Sharing a look with Lethe, Guilford answered for both of them: “We’ll make sure it is.”

The two Seraphs walked to opposite sides of the training yard; expectant eyes from a great many spectators trailing their every move—this much was to be expected. After the Rising, not many have gotten the chance to witness their two leaders in a sparring match. Had it not been for them taking command over their own squads, them training together would have been a common sight. For these young cadets, new knights, and even veterans, if anything else, this was a great opportunity to pick up moves or even just marvel at what was obviously going to be a great match. With bated breaths and heavy anticipation lingering in the air, they waited for the match to start.

Guilford stopped in his corner, already thinking of his first move. Speed was going to be a key aspect against Lethe and her numerous blades; he couldn’t afford anything less than fast. He’d also have to combine sword and martial skills against her. With a quick motion of his free hand, Guilford drew his sword, keeping its scabbard held with his left hand. While he did not favor shields, his scabbard would serve its defensive purposes later on for sure.

Lethe eyed her former squadmate in assessment, summoning Luna to her hand. She was no match for Gil’s swordsmanship but, she settled into an offensive stance, she’d make sure she lived up to his words.

“It’ll be a free for all,” Master Jung piped up from the sidelines, hands now tucked behind his back and looking every bit the wise, old teacher. “Both steel and magic are allowed.”
The white-haired Knight felt a flash of surprise at the clarification before a knowing smirk broke out on her face. So that’s why Gil had looked a bit apprehensive earlier. Challenging blue eyes looked across the field to serious purple eyes. With barely a thought, six of her keyblades appeared behind her. Tightening her grip on Luna, Lethe shot towards Guilford with a flap of her ‘wings.’

At the sight of her swords coming out, Guilford sighed. He knew this was coming but just seven of them? He felt slightly depressed. Why not go full on? Was she taking it easy on him, or was she confident enough that seven would get the job done. Last time he saw her swords in Palaugrim, his count was at nine. Perhaps she was testing the waters with just seven blades out?

Regardless, a poor decision would cost him a point.

Seeing his female counterpart charging at him with more fervor than he anticipated, Guilford smirked in response. It wasn’t that hard to tell what she had in mind; she was obviously thinking she had the advantage if magic was allowed. But he would correct that notion soon. He was not the same kid she used to toy around with when she first got those swords—how proud she was of them back then! Oh those memories! Now was as good a time as any to pay her back, if only to make her realize seven wouldn’t cut it against him now.

Settling into the defensive stance, Guilford activated his Providence, shrouding himself in white light as he extended the length of his sword forward, more to gauge distance than actually defending from the attack. He was aiming for a swift counter, and he needed to time it right knowing Lethe’s habit of using her swords first before she decided to give him hell with her magic.

Did he really think she was going to attack him head on? Well, in the past she might have but things had changed between then and now. If he was bringing out his Providence so soon. . . She made sure not to smirk, not to hint, as she got closer before she teleported herself to her other pair of swords. She reappeared behind him, Luna cutting downwards toward his back.

Teleport?! The sudden shift in the air behind him made Guilford painfully aware of Lethe’s point of attack. With not much window to react, he gambled on a haphazard swing of his scabbard and felt relief when he heard the clang of steel. Following through the defense, he shifted his footing and spun with a slash of his own.

Her attack was halted by Guilford’s scabbard. Coated in Providence, the metal didn’t break despite her weight against it. Guilford spun to strike her with his swords but the three nearest keyblades instinctively moved forward to intercept even as her feet touched the ground. She withdrew Luna as her other set of swords struck out in an upwards arc. She stepped forward with the movement, aiming Luna’s hilt at Gil’s stomach.
Having seen the counter coming, Guilford swayed back to avoid the upwards slash from her magic swords. But Lethe’s attack did not stop there, she aimed for his gut which was left open after his swayback. Clicking his tongue, Guilford had no choice but to back away and reposition. She didn’t plan to make it easy after all. Oh well, he might as well kick it up another notch. Now on the offensive stance, Guilford opted to show her his improved Light step, aiming to swipe her feet off the ground with his scabbard.

After her failed attack, Lethe backed as well, the two returning to each other’s original positions. The white-haired Knight tightened her grip on her sword, preparing herself for her next attack when Guilford suddenly appeared in front of her. He could also teleport? He swept her feet off the ground and she aimed a kick at his face. Her swords’ ability to act as wings had long given her an association with aerial fighting. She flipped back onto her feet, slashing sideways at Gil with Luna.

She would kick him in the face?! Not a chance. Raising Light’s Requiem, Guilford blocked the kick and attempted a counter-swipe, only to notice that Luna was well on its way towards him. Shifting the direction of the his weapon, the two swords clashed furiously between the small space between them. Spectators watching the fight, summoned by the news that the two Seraphs were sparring, gasped at the quick and precise exchange between their two Seraphs.

Guilford kept the swords at a deadlock and gazed at challenging blue eyes. He smiled. She wasn’t holding back her strikes at all. It would be disrespectful of him to respond otherwise. Easily overpowering the deadlock, Guilford turned to his fast combination of sword swipes, attacking Lethe head on while keeping his eyes out for any straggling magic swords she might have commanded around him.

The moment they’d gotten their swords deadlocked, Lethe had already been preparing to retreat. With Guilford taller and heavier than her, there was little chance she’d win such a struggle. She’d just gotten her wings in place to propel her backwards when Guilford overpowered her. The flurry of strikes clattered against her four keyblades as she retreated, her opponent following her. Almost.. almost.. In a burst of speed, she leapt past the seal she’d been preparing, activating it as Guilford stepped into it. She hadn’t had enough time to do more than a simple bind, but it was enough to arrange her swords, all eight this time, around him. There wasn’t quite enough time for Heaven’s Judgment (nor did she have any intention of making him suffer the entire thing) but.. The tips glowed with magic as she started sending them towards Guilford.

Dread crept its way into him the moment he felt his body suddenly come to a halt. Guilford looked down and spotted a cleverly placed seal that had gone unnoticed. He had been too busy watching out for her magic swords that he failed to take into account her sealing techniques. It was too late now and the only thing he could do was grit his teeth in anticipation of what was coming next.

All eight of her magic swords were aimed at him, ominously glowing in white light. Guilford increased the density of his Providence and pulled his sword and scabbard back into a defensive position. He needed to get rid of the seal first, but with not much training in the art, he could only power through it to get the much needed mobility just in time for when the swords came swooping down at him. He had to hand it to her, four of these were hard enough to deal with and he might have just asked for a little too much for wanting to contend with all eight. Guilford skillfully blocked and parried what he could, taking a couple hits with reduced damage thanks to his Providence. What could he use to get out of this situation? A decoy perhaps?

While struggling to fend off her magic swords, purple eyes scanned for Lethe’s current position, spotting her ways away from him while her swords did her bidding. He needed an opening. With her swords all the way here, she’s practically defenseless.. another Light step and he could counter. With a wide circular swinging motion using Light’s Requiem, Guilford managed to knock away several blades wide enough to give him room for a quick dash. He took advantage of the opening, sliding behind Lethe after having used too much force in his Light step. Instead of swinging his sword in such close range, he kicked at her aiming to knock her off balance and fired two Banish bolts right after the kick.

The jolt of having several swords knocked out of their attack warned her that Guilford was planning something. There was a surge as Guilford ran towards her, somehow travelling meters in a blink of the eye. She knew he was fast but she hadn’t thought him that fast. The feeling of dense Light’s Blessing behind her told her where he’d ‘reappeared’. She teleported to the blades he’d left behind her, was knocked back by the first Banish bolt he sent her way, and was able to shield the second. Healing magic flowed over her body to cure the aftereffects of the Banish and the cuts she’d sustained while preparing her trap. How to end this.. He hadn’t been aware of her seals; his Providence probably clouded his senses too much for him to notice the more subtle uses of magic. She returned his Banish bolts with a volley of her own, her keyblade lined up like soldiers to each release a blast before winking out, trying to find new vantages from which to attack.

He had wanted to try his hand at shooting down her Banish bolts with his own but that would be a foolish idea to even consider. Eight cannons against his two palms.. it was obvious who would come out on top. Instead of blocking, Guilford danced around the field, dodging the hail of bolts that came whistling past him as he side-stepped, ducked, swayed left and right, until the bolts became hard enough to dodge with their sudden increase in fire-rate. Now forced to block most of it, Guilford found himself getting pushed back forcefully. She had always been several levels higher than him when it came to magic, but given the years that passed, she had become even more painfully annoying to deal with in a spar, a fact he only realized now that he was facing her head on.

Options running low for him, Guilford lined his sword with his own magic; he may not be as good as her, but even he had some tricks up his sleeve. Timing would be the key. He carefully observed her swords, trying to find if there’s a pattern somewhere. He had known that Lethe could only keep her swords effective within a certain range, but the former range he had in mind was probably even larger now given how randomly they were blinking in and out of the field. He might as well give up on the idea of finding a pattern and create his own rhythm of attack. Knocking away two bolts in succession, Guilford spun widely to the left, bringing his sword forward and firing a line of white light straight at Lethe. He needed to give her something so he can take a breather.

Unlike last time, Lethe’s focus wasn’t on directing her blades. She easily dodged the attack as she was already in motion but continued running forward. She needed to keep his mind off her blades for just a bit longer. Despite knowing Guilford was superior to her in swordplay, the white-haired Knight lashed out with Luna, now close enough to be within Guilford’s range. Her swords maintained their sporadic barrage of Banishes, enough to remind the blue-haired Seraph they were still present.

She’s bringing the fight to him. Guilford found it odd given how well she had been doing at range, but if she’s planning on taking him head on where he had the advantage, she would be more than welcome to try. Dodging her first, second, and third strike with ease (while knocking away several Banish bolts in the process) Guilford took one step back at a time, admiring (criticizing) how Lethe’s swordplay felt.. lacking. Maybe he should teach her a move or two. Spinning around an overly-committed attack, Guilford tapped the back of her right leg with his scabbard, followed by a quick, light hit on her back, jumping away soon after out of harm’s way from a Banish bolt that whizzed past him.

He had to be extra careful. It was not like Lethe to do something without a plan. Whatever it is, he needed to be on his guard. It was hard enough to defend even with his scabbard, but it would also be easy enough for him to focus on offense should he discard it. After all, staying defensive was not his style at all. Tossing away Light’s Requiem’s scabbard, Guilford took a completely different stance; he was not getting anywhere if he wouldn’t commit fully to offense.

As to be expected, her swordplay was subpar compared to Guilford’s. The fact her brain was only half on her swordplay probably wasn’t helping. The rap of a scabbard against her leg and the tab on her back were reminders she needed to improve her swordsmanship, especially if she wanted to use a plan like this in the future. She’d have to see if Lesus or Roland had time later. The fight lulled as Guilford moved away, settling into an offensive stance. She wasn’t dull enough to glance at the seals she’d prepared but she could feel their presences in her mind. Her battlefield was ready; now she needed to get him into it.

Lethe stepped back into a defensive stance, ready to dodge whatever came next. It’d be important to balance guiding him to her trap and not being too obvious about her actions.

First would be a frontal attack. Guilford ran forward, not using his Light step move just yet. This was to get her attention on him, to make her think he was coming head on. As he closed the distance between them, he pulled his sword back and assumed a striking motion. The moment he had brought his sword up was the start of his attack pattern. Upon getting into range, Guilford finally used Light step, dashing to Lethe’s right side, the goal was to get her sword up to block his, and then Light step to her open side for a hit.

His dash to her right had her lifting Luna in preparation for his assault even as she flung herself to the left. The bite of steel into her flesh, along with the sudden presence of Divine Magic, told her she’d just made a mistake. It was a moment’s thought to vanish from her previous position on Guilford’s sword and into the safety of her still hidden seals. One hand reached for the bleeding wound, a grimace crossing her face at the sensation of warm blood. She hunched over as if in pain. Come on Guilford, just attack her already.

A silent breeze blew between the two Seraphs locked in sparring. The silence among those that spectated was almost too loud to be heard. Everyone held their breath, everyone trying to predict who would come out as the winner of this match. To the eyes of many, it looked as if the curtains were finally coming to a close. Both Seraphs had just showed them a thrilling match and it would be a shame to them if they had not picked up a few things. Still, eyes stayed locked at the combatants, eagerly waiting for the one to move next.

Guilford, despite the screams inside him telling him not to attack, wanted to draw the match to a close. He couldn’t bear to see (much less continue wounding Lethe) his female counterpart getting beaten at swordplay. If Master Jung had any tips for both of them, it would be best to have a victor soon. Taking a deep breath, Guilford lunged forward using Light step, stepping into his range and immediately swinging his sword upward with the goal of ending the match when he suddenly froze.

Lethe had fallen away from him, sluggishly, but his attack never connected. She seemingly staggered away before straightening, a triumphant smirk on her lips. Lifting Luna, she rested it against his exposed neck. “Surrender?”

His smile was self-deprecating even as he covertly struggled against whatever was keeping him still. It must be another seal, though he wasn’t sure how she’d had time to make one. Maybe he could break it again? His Providence flickered as if weakening though he was really testing the seal’s strength. It refused to budge. Instead, all eight of Lethe’s keyblades appeared around him in a clear warning. She knew what he was attempting and she wasn’t letting her victory escape.

“I’ve seen enough. Well fought both of you.” echoed another voice after Lethe’s demand for surrender. Eyes turned almost instantly over to the old man coming down from where he observed the match. “Master Lethe, it’s your victory—but you have already died several times over for engaging Master Guilford in swordplay.” he chuckled and turned to the male Seraph, “Master Guilford, you lost the match the moment Master Lethe first succeeded in binding you. I trust you already know what this means?” he smiled at the male Seraph, who had just now been released from his binding.

“It’s my loss.” he responded sulkily. Payback would have to be for another time.

“And yet I’m the one bleeding all over the place.” Lethe commented in amusement as she dismissed her swords and Luna so she could heal her wound. “It’d be a bit sad if I couldn’t match you when we’re using magic as well, wouldn’t it Gil? We both know you’re miles ahead of me in regards to swordplay.”

“Yes, that would be sad. But your magic is really something else. I couldn’t keep up.” he commented on the one thing that really pressed him hard throughout the match.

“Of course you couldn’t.” Master jung interjected, “You’re the sword, she’s the magic behind it. You two complement each other’s weaknesses perfectly. This is why the training method I thought up would be themed coordination.” the old man flashed an amused smile. “Of course, it’s not as if we’d let your weaknesses stay as it is. We’ll work on them too.”

“Thank you Master Jung, we’re honored.” A sudden roar of cheering ended their conversation, startling Lethe into looking around. The edges of the battlefield were crammed with Knights, Scribes, Advocates, and Healers. Some of the surrounding hallways even had bodies half out of the windows, all craning for a better look. The spectacle of two Seraphs dueling had drawn all the free bodies (and some who weren’t so free) to the training grounds.

Purple eyes looked around as well, now fully aware of the amount of people gathered to watch their duel. He had not paid any attention at all to his surroundings outside of the battlefield (how could he?) given how hard pressed he was fighting Lethe. Now that he could see all of the spectators, he felt a bit of shame for not having put his best foot forward. Oh well, he knew why he lost, and he would have all day to reflect on it. “We should probably dismiss them all.. some of them aren’t even supposed to be here.” he sighed at the sight of some people who were obviously not supposed to be there at this time.

Lethe’s embarrassment at having been caught in such a display (okay, it was just sparring, but it still felt like showing off!) waned at Guilford’s dry comment. She took a better inventory of their spectators at his words, finally recognizing some of the men and women in the crowds. Yes, she was fairly certain Head Cleric Heidie was not supposed to be standing by the window with a wide grin on her face. However, the sight of the older woman’s smile brought a smile to her own face. “Probably not, but we may as well let them enjoy themselves.” She responded in a fond tone, lifting a hand to wave at a cheering Cricket. The rest of her squad were similarly standing on the edge of the training field, no doubt having bullied their way there. Guilford’s squad she couldn’t see but with so many people around, she wasn’t too surprised.

“They’ll probably disperse once we leave, Gil.” The reminder of her next location elicited a sigh. “And, unfortunately, I no doubt have a stack of reports waiting for me.” She turned to face Master Jung, only to see he’d already wandered off as the crowd split before him like the parting of the sea.

“You just had to say it didn’t you?” he sighed at the reminder of paperwork, even as he raised a closed fist that garnered another roar of cheering from the crowd. “Best get to it then,” he paused and looked at Lethe, a sincere smile on his lips. “It was a good match. Thank you for the lessons.”

Lethe laughed in response, returning his smile with one of her own. “Thank you as well, Gil. It was fun. I look forward to working with you and Master Jung.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head, for a moment ignoring the still cheering crowd, “May the Divine Light guide us and keep us safe.”

_________________

Day 28th of Month 4: Gless - Grand Cathedral, Squad Eight Quarters


"Captai—!" the words died out almost instantly at the sight of the male Seraph treating the numerous bruises that riddled his upper body. Alfrei nearly busted down the door with his entrance, only to find his Captain with his top clothes off and forcing healing magic to the bruised parts of his body that he could easily reach. A frown formed on his Captain's features as purple eyes slowly turned to meet his gaze. "Should I call for a cleric?" Alfrei asked, even when he knew it was a stupid question. Their Captain could heal himself just fine but seeing how many injuries he sustained was worrying enough for the young Vice Captain. For him to be battered like this even with his Providence on! Just how strong was Master Lethe exactly? And for their Captain to actually go out and wound Master Lethe too!? Does these two even understand the concept of pulling punches? It was a sparring match for Light's sake!

The blonde knight shuddered at the mental image of him going against the female Seraph. Not a chance Alfrei, you'd get pulverized, he thought internally.

His thoughts however, were pulled away from his musing when the male Seraph suddenly decided to put his top clothes back on, even without finishing the treatment to his bruises. He was just about to protest against the act when several bodies suddenly forced their way through the one entrance to their squad quarters. The rest of Squad Eight had already come, and their Captain had just conveniently hidden his bruises beneath his clothes just in time to keep the others from seeing them. Of course, he was a Seraph after all, he should show no weakness in front of his knights—especially to his own squad. He was just about to say something but caught Guilford's strong gaze followed by the shaking of his head.

Alfrei could only swallow his words.

The brief silence that descended the group was shattered by Natalia. "How could you lose?!" she grilled the blue-haired man, eyes wide in disbelief. "You could have won right? Right?!"

The male Seraph sighed. The spar was fifty-fifty at best, and while it was true that he could have won, the same could be said to Lethe as well. But it was also true that he did not capitalize on his advantages, despite Lethe having given him multiple chances to do so. He sighed again at the memory, was he too soft on her? "It was a sparring match, Nat. The goal was to open our eyes to our weaknesses and find ways to improve on them. Don't think too deep into it. That match was beneficial for both of us in more ways than one." he finally said. No, he was not too soft, he gave it his all and was defeated because he lacked something.



A faint smile lined his lips at the reminder of Lethe's words; he had not heard her say she had fun in a long time.

Natalia frowned at his words, though he said it that way, she was not used to seeing him lose. "But..." she began to mumble when Guilford stopped her with his own words before she could continue.

"Like I said, for all intents and purposes, that match was not about winning or losing—it never was to begin with." he walked his way to his desk chair and sat on it, ignoring the pain in his backside when he relaxed into his chair, "Now, why are you all here when I specifically gave all of you time off?"

The seven knights looked at each other upon the reminder that they were actually off-duty. They had rushed here as fast as they could when they heard the news about their Seraphs sparring with each other. Though they missed the opening of the match, they made it just in time to witness the middle up to the end, which turned out to be against their expectations. In their silence and failure to provide a good enough reason for them to be here, the male Seraph smiled at his squad.

"As you can see, I'm quite alright. Now stop worrying and get out of here before I come up with tasks for all of you." he threatened them with work on their free time.

Picking up on their Captain's lead, Alfrei sighed in defeat. He probably wanted to get back to healing himself alone, and the sooner they get out of here, the sooner he could heal up. "Well guys? It looks to me like there's really nothing to be worried about," he huffed and turned to the other members of their squad, "Let's go make ourselves scarce before the Captain comes up with ridiculous tasks for us." he whispered in a low tone.

"I heard that!" Guilford butted in, "Now go before I really start thinking!"

One by one the skeptical members of squad eight filed out of the room, until only Alfrei was left behind. He stood there, looking at his Captain who already started immersing himself with paperwork; it looked as if he wouldn't start healing himself around him even when he already saw his injuries. With one last sigh, he turned around and went for the door.

The moment Alfrei stepped outside, he met a familiar cleric that blocked his path. Lady Cora. She had an inquisitive look that Alfrei could only interpret as a question whether their Captain was alright or not. He shook his head sideways in response before politely excusing himself from Cora's presence.

The female Cleric watched Guilford's Vice Captain walk away until he was out of her sight. After making sure there's nobody else around and checking if Guilford was the only one left inside the room, Cora took a breath and gently opened the doors. She was greeted by a warm smile from her friend before he motioned for her to come in. She sighed upon realizing that Guilford already knew she was outside; she even tried her hardest to keep her presence hidden! So much for a cleric's stealth aptitude...

"What can I do fo—"

"Let me take a look at you Gil." Cora abruptly cut him off, "You know you can't fool my eyes. You took quite a beating in that match. Providence or not, there's just no way you came out of it unscathed."

"I—" Guilford trailed to a sigh, there's just no use hiding injuries from a cleric of Cora's caliber. "Shouldn't you be checking on Lethe first? I mean, compared to my injuries.."

Cora sighed as she approached the male Seraph, "In case you haven't noticed Gil, she was healing the scratches you gave her all throughout the match, and the only real injury you caused her was your second to the last attack—and even that was healed with ease." she informed him, "Unlike you who would rather heal himself in solitude, Master Lethe is already fine."

"Ugh... You do know I can heal myself right? So why bother checking up on me?" Guilford complained.

"And you do know I didn't re-enlist to twiddle my thumbs right? Like it or not, Seraphs are at the top of a Cleric's priority list. I know you don't agree with the privilege but I'm just doing my job. Should any other cleric come to take a look at you, I know you'd just send them away, so here I am." she explained, "The least you could do is stop making it hard for me and quit stalling!"

Guilford gulped drily, it wouldn't be wise of him to continue rejecting the offer, especially when Cora's aura began to feel somewhere short of becoming murderous.





Day 29th of Month 4: Gless - Caletta


Joaquim and Bianca's attention were pulled away from their breakfast at the sound of rushing footsteps coming down the stairs. Moments later, the source revealed itself before them with a bright smile; a bouncing Jessiah was all dressed up for school and was raring to go. He looked at both parents excitedly as he approached to join them for breakfast. The moment he sat down, he immediately picked up his toast and took a big bite, seemingly decided to have his bread finished in five or six bites by Joaquim's count.

"Woah there champ, slow down! What's the rush?" Joaquim tried to ease his son's hyperactivity, "School's not until forty minutes." he added.

Jessiah forcefully swallowed his third bite, leaving a mess of crumbs at the corners of his mouth. His eyes beamed at his father, another excited smile widening his lips, "Today is the day father!" he exclaimed in near-uncontrollable glee, "Our school will be touring the Pristine Knight Academy! And the Grand Cathedral, and we'll get to see Master Guilford and Master Lethe—"

Their son's excitement was momentarily broken by Bianca who was already busy wiping the crumbs out of the corners of Jessiah's mouth. "Now, now, Jessiah, this future Pristine Knight should first learn how to keep himself clean at all times don't you think? It would be a bad impression if the people see your breakfast get away from you." she giggled.

Joaquim nodded approvingly and took a sip from his coffee, "Your mother is right son." he smiled at him, "Pristine Knights not only defend the people, but they also serve to be role models for the young ones. Table manners is a start."

Jessiah pouted for a moment but conceded with a smile nonetheless. He wanted to be the best Pristine Knight there ever was, and if both his parents were pointing him in the right direction, then he would wholeheartedly accept their guidance. He began eating slower now, but still held that burning excitement in his eyes.

"Like father, like son." Bianca smiled at the two lovingly.

Joaquim cleared his throat at the comment, "I can defeat my bread just fine without a mess, thank you."

Ten minutes later and Jessiah had already finished his breakfast. He was just about to step out of the door when Joaquim called for his attention, "Want me to drop you off at school? Your father is free today." he tempted the young boy, knowing his offer would be pretty much declined. Nowadays, picking him up after school was the only thing Jessiah would allow any of them to do, and pretty soon even that was going to come to an end.

As he suspected, Jessiah immediately shook his head, "I got this father! Don't worry about me!" he said and smiled at the two, "I'll be off then father, mother. See you later!"

Both parents waved goodbye as they watched their son head off to school, leaving the two of them some quiet time at the table. Bianca was just about to clean up after breakfast when she suddenly felt a hand come rest atop her left one. Teal eyes slowly turned their gaze towards her husband. She recognized a serious look he harbored that she had not seen for a long, long time. Bianca let go of the first dish she already held and turned her full attention to Joaquim, "It's about time you talked to me." she whispered in a low tone, letting her right hand come to rest on Joaquim's hand that already held her other. "What's wrong dear?" she put on the most comforting smile she could muster.

He had not been himself for the past few days, and Joaquim knew that. His distance showed even when Dietrich came over a couple nights for dinner. Though Bianca had not said anything about it, they had known each other long enough to understand silence between the two of them. For the longest time, Bianca had always been the supportive one, always been the pillar of strength he looked upon in his times of need, and when their love bore fruit, they both became his life, her and Jessiah. But now in these dark times, they would be the ones needing his support, him being their pillar of strength, and should he be (un)fortunate enough to be chosen to walk the future path laid out before him, (the path of a Seraph) all of that would simply not come to be.

He had seen what was demanded from a Seraph, understood the difficulty of the role—even with how easy both Masters Lethe and Guilford made it appear to be over the years. For a family man such as himself, he had long given up taking on a role such as that. But right now, in their Captain's words: "What the future currently holds is uncertain, and it is up to us to make the right hard necessary choices to mold and grasp a favorable one. The God of Sin has been revived; those necessary choices are all we're going to get from here on out." Even with Lance and Alona as his other nominees for the position, (obviously stronger knights than him) it was still of no comfort. Joaquim took a deep breath, a sad smile lining his lips in the process.

"If I.. became a Seraph... what would you think?"

At the sudden question, Bianca tilted her head a little to the left in confusion but answered regardless, "Then the people working in the Grand Cathedral would have to deal with our hyperactive Jessiah on a daily basis." she giggled, "Why? Are you planning to overthrow your Captain?" she teased her husband.

Normally, her response and teasing would have earned a laugh out of him but now was not the appropriate time. "I've been... selected as a candidate for the position." the words came out of him a tad forced, "The Captain thinks I have what it takes to be a Seraph." he added.

The knowledge caught Bianca off-guard. She hadn't expected to hear those words from him, let alone expect that her husband would be nominated for the Seraph position. Even with her thoughts swirling into disarray, Bianca still managed to cling on to her composure, "That's great news!" a practiced assurance, with the goal of wanting to ease Joaquim's worries, "But... isn't Master Guilford a little too young to retire?"



Joaquim shook the thoughts away and smiled at his wife. His Captain was ridiculously strong! There's just no way... he sighed. Was he lying to himself? They were talking about THE God of Sin, not just some overgrown Pure Sinner!

Though he prayed that day won't have to come at all, it would still be best to worry about it when and if it actually does come. "My love, he has done so much for all of us. It wouldn't surprise me if he wanted to try his hand at a normal life after this second war." he smiled at her. How could he bring himself to tell her his innermost thoughts and reasons? Joaquim apologized to her silently. For now, all he could do was to continue giving their Captain his all for the upcoming battles.

His fears would have to take the backseat.

A necessary choice.





"It's either you shape up, or you shape up! That's all there is to it!" Alona yelled at the downed knights she had been training, "And you dare call yourselves the New Sword Squadron?!" she sighed loudly, "You lot are going to make any of your predecessors cry at this level! I'm crying now!" she gave them the harsh truth. If she alone could take all of them down by herself, then there's no point in bringing them to combat with her. She wanted knights that did not need their backs watched, she needed true knights (not these sappy bunch in her team) and these guys were still too soft to her liking.

At the very least, the knights who have been rotating on and off Palaugrim were improving at a much better rate than those that got stuck on either Gless or Lindela. Although training had always been a part of a Pristine Knight's duties, the ones left on Gless and Lindela adapted it to become routine, not something they'd rather do on their own to improve. Peace had dulled their blades, and it did not sit well with the redhead; complacency gets a knight killed, especially now that the God of Sin was back. She would hammer the basics into them again if she had to, it was the least she could do to ensure some of them would survive the upcoming battles.

From the sidelines, two pairs of eyes watched Alona maul her team repeatedly, cringing now and then every time Alona decided to hit a little harder than she should.

"She's plenty worked up. At the rate she's going, she might kill these knights before they even start to improve!" Cora commented drily, "It's not her who gets stuck healing—the least she could do is take it easy!" she began complaining, "And I could say the same to all the veterans that have taken up training the knights! The Sanctuary is already crowded as it stands!" she yammered on, getting frustrated at the notion of having to heal again for the rest of the day. Not that she hated healing at all, she just thought it would be prudent not to beat up their less experienced knights too much. Perhaps this was an after-effect of having witnessed their Seraphs spar? She didn't know.

Silver eyed his dear friend subtly; there was no denying that he too was a subject of her complaints. While he was mostly committed to defensive training, he would often take advantage of openings he saw from any of the knights under his tutelage. More often than not, it would always end up in a painful realization. However, that was not without merit. In his opinion, the sooner the knights realize their faults, the faster their road to improvement would be. It was a gamble taken on by both Seraphs for having agreed on such radical training methods. It may seem harsh, but to them—those who survived the First War—this much was normal.

"We both know why she's worked up." he said flatly, turning his gaze back towards the roaring Alona, "It's also pretty easy to tell what's going on in her head." he added, folding both arms above his chest, "The more capable knights I can produce, the lesser stress it would be for both Seraphs in the long run. I'm sure that's what she's thinking of now."

"Mmm. That's just like her isn't it?" Cora nodded in agreement, "While it's pretty obvious that she's undoubtedly in the top ten strongest knights within our ranks now, she lacks the desire or ambition for a higher position..."

"..and to be chosen for the Seraph position by Gil, she's probably feeling a lot of pressure right now." Silver picked up Cora's words, "It's no wonder she looks like she wants to run away."

Cora's gaze suddenly turned sullen at Silver's words. To run away, they already did it once, but now they don't have that luxury anymore; not with all that's been going on. "We can't do that... again. Not this time at least..." she mumbled.

Silver once again gazed at Cora from the corners of his eyes, just in time to catch the solemn look on her face, "Yeah. I know..."





Day 29th of Month 4: Barrens


Akira sped through the vast expanse of land before him, jumping left and right every so often to dodge bolts of Sin fired at him from behind by his pursuers. He had hit the jackpot at the worst possible moment he could ever imagine. He had found the stronghold of their enemy, and quite possibly where the God of Sin was camping out given how the amount of taint that surrounded that patch of land was terrifyingly potent and menacing. However, that was not all. He now possessed information about enemy troop movement and quite possibly, the target of such a large force. This information needed to be passed on; it was far too valuable to lose now. Still, his cursed luck was proving to be rather uncooperative. Akira found himself wounded and on the run, with nothing but fumes to go on with, exhaustion at its peak, and magic reserves at a dangerous low. He had already consumed the last bottle of Hyuga's Miracle Powder yesterday, with the idea of gathering more intel deep in enemy territory when his pursuers accidentally found him.

He had tried to engage them in an attempt to eliminate them and continue on with scouting, but that decision proved to be a near-fatal one; evidence was the wound on his right side that he couldn't even afford to heal properly. Out of options, his only recourse would be to retreat, shake off his pursuers, and make it to the rendezvous point where his ride out of this Light forsaken place (assuming the Wyervia was still there given he was already delayed by a day) waited for him.

If only it was that easy.

He had taken the shortest route to their rendezvous point, ran with all his might, and still he could feel death ever so slowly creeping up on him. He looked back at his pursuers, they were definitely not of the regular dish of evil normally served cold to them. Far stronger than a Pure Sinner, and just a little above Reapers from Lance's account, these things chasing him around were definitely not that easy to deal with three to one. But if he could manage to keep this distance between them up to his extraction point, he would be home free. All it took now, was just a matter of time.

Cutting through a dead patch of trees, Akira ducked beneath low hanging dead branches, leaped over the consecutive boulders before his path, until he finally slid down an incline into open plains. He was almost at the rendezvous point, he just needed to run the stretch a little longer and he could leave this forsaken wasteland behind. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Akira looked back to check for his pursuers again; they were still ways away but he should not relax. Turning his gaze back to the front, Akira willed his tired legs forward, dashing at full speed towards his escape.

Terror gripped his heart tightly the moment he finally got to his destination..

The Wyervia was nowhere to be seen, a fact that Akira refused to believe—refused to accept! Wide eyes scanned the premise of their supposed rendezvous point repeatedly, only for more of the blatant and obvious truth to hit him in full impact. The Wyervia was not there, and it was probably not coming given he was a day late from the appointed time. Akira looked back in horror, seeing his pursuers gaining on him from afar.

There was no escape, no salvation, and no reprieve.

An unfamiliar sensation wracked his body. Akira only realized what that sensation was when his eyes looked down and saw how his hands badly trembled... it was Despair. The black-haired man gritted his teeth, a dark expression settling on his face as he continued to sink into hopelessness. He had failed, and the effect of this cause would be the lives of those people who subconsciously depended on them to do their job. Trembling hands curled into fists, clenched tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 'The Light never asks for more than what you can give', it was the one line always present in an Advocate's sermons during services, and yet why does it feel like such a lie right now?

What else could he give in this situation? The only thing he had left in him now was his life! Is this truly what the Light asks of him to do? Give up his life? For what in return? The information he had wouldn't be passed on, lives of those people and knights alike in Lindela would still be in danger! In the end, he would accomplish nothing, gain nothing, and lose everything in the end. Had this been a fool's errand all along? How stupid of him to think he could pull off a solo mission right off the bat! He began to doubt himself until a thought crossed his mind...

"I'd want that back when you return. That ring is like a part of me."

The trembling he felt earlier slowly dissipated at the thought, leaving him with only a sense of calm despite his unfavorable predicament. Purple eyes slowly closed, and a faint smile played comfortably on his lips. The tightly clenched fists he kept eased open; what was he doing standing there paralyzed in despair? He was not alone after all. The Light may not be looking out for him now, but she was! He had a promise to keep, and that alone was enough for him to keep pressing forward. Akira opened his eyes once more and turned around to face his pursuers. His hands slowly found the hilts of his daggers, drawing his weapons out as he took a fighting stance.

He would not die. Not now, and not here.





Day 29th of Month 4: Lindela - District 5


Morning. It was not often that Lance had a day where he felt superstitious. However, when and if there were days he felt unceremoniously superstitious, this was one of them. Lance had a lot in mind, but somewhere in the middle of his thoughts, a nagging sensation he couldn't put a finger on kept rising up to notice. This day felt completely off, like it was a calm before the storm, like he had misplaced something important, or like he had forgotten some crucial detail. He had been contemplating on the recent nomination he received from Gil about being his successor should the need arise—and thinking of a way to avoid that if he could help it—when he started feeling anxious.

The morning had been unkind (for his squad) as usual when they went about their beefed up training routine. As expected, Yulia still hadn't reported for duty yet, and he had already read Sigfried's suggestive letter regarding the younger Schneider twin being returned to him in good shape. Well, he already screwed that part up. There was no way in Light she would be in good shape after learning the truth behind the Lion. Despite all that distraction he had, Lance still couldn't help but think that something was amiss. His instincts kept telling him to prepare, his mind kept wandering to that ominous thought he had absolutely no idea about. He was on edge, and it was starting to drive him crazy as the minutes of the day ticked by.





Day 29th of Month 4: Gless - Caletta


Fiona continued pacing around worriedly inside her room. She felt her connection with Akira wane a little, and it continually felt that way as time went by. That could only mean one thing: the man was in danger. Ever since she first felt that sensation, Fiona picked up Nirvana and donned her armor in haste. If her suspicion was right, he would need her help come sooner or later. Using her ancient knowledge with the arcane arts, she had already drawn a portal rune in the middle of her room, took the necessary precautions against the possible magic backlash for using a powerful spell indoors, and drew a recall rune in her right hand, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

Quick in and quick out, that was the plan.





Day 29th of Month 4: Barrens


A groan of pain escaped Akira's lips as he received a forceful kick to the gut from one of his assailants. He skidded to a stop a few feet back and planted both feet to the ground, immediately raising his one good arm defensively. Taking his assailants' momentary pause in their attacks to assess his situation, Akira noted a few bad things that could get worse. A tendon in his right arm had been severed from a deep cut rendering it useless, his left eye was covered in blood from a head wound also making it useless, and he was bleeding all over the place from numerous shallow cuts all over his body. Given how exhausted he was, it was a miracle he hadn't passed out yet, or died from blood-loss. His vision though, was already starting to blur, signifying he was moments away from either death, or worse, conversion. His movements have become painfully sluggish too, making it hard for the man to continue fending off future attacks from the trio of evil before him.

Such a cliché for these evil entities to toy with him and make him suffer a slow and painful death. Akira smirked, he did give them a hard time chasing him around, and even now he was giving them a hard time taking him down. Lightning magic coursed through the length of his left arm, until the channeled force restlessly flickered in the short blade of his dagger. He had long abandoned the protection of his Prayer, devoting the rest of his magic reserves into offense. He knew it was dangerous but what choice did he have left? He didn't want to die! He could already feel several negative emotions starting to swirl within his heart, and had it not been for him holding on desperately to the thought of the promise he vowed to keep, he would have probably turned long ago. They may break his bones and batter his body, but they can never shatter his will! He would rather die than turn into one of them!

Akira attacked the nearest enemy to his right with a furious rush of vigorous dagger strikes. Valiant as he may be, his attacks were easily evaded, ultimately countered by a crescent kick that hit him squarely in the jaw. The force of the kick he received was strong enough to send Akira spinning in mid air, and tumbling above the rough terrain when he landed several meters away from his enemies, his battered body coming to rest upon hitting a rock with a sickening crunch. The lightning that flickered in his dagger blade died out when his head sunk, coughing up his life-blood soon after. Lights above, that hurt! What did he ever do to deserve such punishment? Was it his love for figures? Or was it because he—at one point—decided to abandon his duties to the Light?

Akira chuckled, coughing up more blood as he did so. What use was there in asking? It's not as if the Light would answer him anyway. Just look at him now! He had been forsaken, left for dead, to be forgotten in this rotten land! He raised his sunken head slowly; his death was near, and right now the only thing he could do was stare at it as it comes. Three of his assailants were charging at him with their swords drawn, ready to run him through with them. He no longer had any strength to get up and continue fighting, he was probably already breathing his last breaths too. He should take this moment to apologize to everyone who believed in him... and to her.

"I'm sorry... Fiona..." he mumbled weakly.

Having already accepted his fate, a harsh breeze blew across him as Akira closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable, only for them to open again at the sudden sound of metal clashing against metal, immediately followed by a pain-filled scream from one of his opponents. When he realized what was going on, he was already staring at the back of a female knight who had just now taken out one of the trio who were just about to kill him. Long black hair, azure colored armor, sea-blue blade... he couldn't believe it! Was he dreaming? Why was she here?! Akira's attention was momentarily pulled away by a faint glow in his right hand. Fiona's ring...

He turned his gaze back at Fiona who had just unleashed what looked like an advanced version of Smite against the remaining two enemies, forcing them to back away from her. It was only when she looked back at him that Akira truly accepted the fact that he was not dreaming.

Using the time she forcefully bought herself, Fiona dashed towards Akira, reaching out with her right hand to touch him and simultaneously activated the recall rune she imbued her hand with. A violent swirl of white light surrounded and engulfed the two, knocking away the blasts of Sin bolts fired by Akira's pursuers at them. Moments later, the light vanished, taking Fiona and Akira along with it.





Day 29th of Month 4: Gless - Grand Cathedral


Fiona made a terrible miscalculation with the spell! The blasts of Sin interrupted the flux of her magic and altered their course from the portal rune she carved in her room. She bit her lip while thinking of a way to remedy the mishap. Forced to correct her mistake, Fiona made intricate adjustments as both she and Akira traversed the tunnel of white light towards their supposed destination. With one last frustrated huff, Fiona completed her recalculation and weaved her magic into her spell. Not a breath too soon had the two of them reappeared in the mortal plane. She had made adjustments for them to pop out in Squad Eight's quarters, in hopes that Akira could get immediate help from her Captain. The moment her magic faded out entirely, Fiona automatically snapped her gaze around, looking for the blue-haired Seraph, only to gasp at the realization that there was no blue-haired man around, or any of her squad mates to be exact.

She blinked once, twice, and then a few more times until her brain finally processed the information. Why was she in Squad Ten's quarters instead!? Vice Captain Adair had scrambled for his shield, the pink-haired woman was already on the defensive, and that young blonde with long hair already had his sword drawn, even Valiar seemed like he was about to cast his own magic. For a moment, Fiona believed to have seen Master Lethe's magic swords materialize before blinking out. She shook her self out of the apparent surprise both sides obviously suffered from.

Regardless of where she was, Fiona knew she was in a safe zone now. Her eyes immediately locked on to the obviously surprised person in charge, "H-help—!" she began, the zeal in her eyes fading when she was stopped by a tug on her arm. Fiona looked down to the half-dead Akira she was critically healing in her clutches.

"Lindela... is going to be... attacked.. soon.." the badly injured scout managed to blurt out before losing consciousness.











Day 29th of Month 4: Lindela - District 5


Yulia's eyes opened to a rude awakening. The overly loud and repetitive sound that assaulted her ears was too much to ignore. District Five's bell tower kept tolling. Though this was the first time she actually heard them tolled in this way, Yulia was no stranger to the coded message being conveyed by the bells: District Five is under attack! The blonde forced herself out of bed, clumsily rushing out of it to grab her sword, but stopped at the sound made by a trinket that fell off her bed and clunked on the wooden floor.

A lion crest. Looking upon it made memories of the time she got a hold of it to resurface.

It was yesterday during her stroll around District Five, that she had come across a man named Jean, who was adamantly trying to set up a meeting with her hated Captain through one of the knight outposts in town. Whether it was her threads of fate being pulled, or by the wheel of her destiny spun at the right time, the outpost knights spotted her and incessantly called her over to deal with the man; it made sense with her being Lance's Vice Captain and all. Forced into the debacle, Yulia listened to the man's story, uninterested at first but conceded into curiosity the more she heard from him.

Jean was a Palaugrimian hailing from the small town of Nachi, and according to him, his family had unfortunately come across a band of impostor Pristine Knights which Lance the Lion dealt with accordingly to save their day. Yulia had also learned from Jean's account that it was thanks to the crest that Lance gave them that they were able to start a new life here in Lindela. Should she be impressed? Yulia didn't know. But for some reason, she felt less aggravated at the man, especially when Jean began talking about their little ones that were doing really good adjusting to life here in District Five, all thanks to that one man who helped them in their time of need.

Jean had wanted to return the Crest himself but couldn't get the chance to meet Lance again, thus entrusting her with the task of returning it to its rightful owner. She didn't know why she said it at the time but she told Jean that she would be happy to return it for him.

Now here she was, staring at it like a fool, still hesitating to meet her Captain and settle her grudge for good.

If he had the heart to help people like he did for Jean and his family, why didn't he have the heart to help her when she was the one in need? Why did he chose to run away and hide from it all? What were his reasons behind the act? What was that promise he said he intended to keep? She needed to know, she was compelled to find out. If by dumb luck Lance dies in this attack, the truth would die with him.

She was not going to let that happen! For her sake, and as well as the people of this district. Lance was far too valuable an asset to lose in a skirmish.

Yulia scooped the item off the floor and tucked it into her pocket before proceeding to gear up. The chaos that descended upon District Five could now be heard from outside. Even indoors, Yulia could tell exactly what kind of mayhem lies in wait outside. The terrified screams of the people pierced though the once tranquil air, the sound of battle replaced the market chatter, and the barking of commanding officers echoed throughout the panicked screams. She may have been skipping out on her duties as a knight, but this time was different. People were in danger, and her personal affairs held little to no meaning when the lives of the innocent she swore to protect were in peril.





"Captain!" Seven yelled out for the man even as he drove a gauntlet covered fist right into a Sinner's face, "The people in this area have been moved to safety!" he informed the man fighting his way through to another area, dodging a stray swipe aimed for his head shortly after. They were caught off-guard. How could such a large force like this appear out of nowhere?! His eyes darted around the confusion that surrounded him. There were Sinners everywhere he looked; up on the roofs, coming out of alleyways, some were even bold enough to break into homes! Seven kicked another Sinner that charged him from his right side, immediately swinging the blunt side of his sword to smack it in the back of its neck. "Chigusa! Lucian! What are you guys doing?! I told you not to let them through!" he yelled at the knights covering their right flank.

"They're too many!" Chigusa grunted her response while defending from two simultaneous attacks on both sides.

"Olen! Reinhardt! You're over-extending! Stay in formation! We need to keep this area locked down!" Seven roared at their left flank that was starting to open up, "Eight! I told you to shoot down the ones on the roof! Where are you aiming at?!" he called out to his buddy who was in the middle of their formation.

"I'm trying!" Eight roared back at him, firing another hail of Banishes at the Sinners who kept popping up on the roofs.

"I know! I'm telling you to try harder!" Seven grunted as he engaged another group of Sinners that came at their rear. "The Captain cleared a path! We're moving up! Don't fall behind!" he alerted his squad mates to Lance's progress, "Keep an eye out for trapped civilians! Rescuing them is top priority!" he added as he slowly backed away, knocking out and absolving Sinners that came for him.

"Keep it together!" Lance yelled at his squad while fending off four Sinners at once using his spear. Now he completely understood the anxiousness he felt. He was right, something bad was about to happen but he did not, even in his wildest dreams, expect that it would be this bad. Had the prelude to destruction started? Had the God of Sin finally made his move? If so, this battle was far from over. Lance was already contemplating on firing off Luminaria but the consequence of it was something he could not afford at this time. They had no intel regarding enemy strength and numbers, and should he fire off Luminaria now, he would be out of the fight for good. Light knows how many more of them were out there lying in wait! They needed to tough it out, do everything in their power to make sure District Five doesn't fall.

Sticking the blunt end of his spear into the ground, Lance vaulted to land a drop kick at an unsuspecting Sinner, landing himself smack dab into the middle of another enemy party. Upon realizing his intrusion, the Sinners roared and charged at him all at the same time. Lance danced around their attacks, countering each and every swipe and slash sent his way. After dishing out one hit each, all the Sinners that charged him fell unconscious around Lance. He huffed at the small accomplishment, firing a Penance chain to yank his spear off the ground and back into his hand. He swung the weapon around, looking for more action when a yell of warning from another knight caught his attention.

"Pure Sinners beyond the walls! Watch out for magic bombardment!" the knight's voice cut into the open air, his message getting repeatedly conveyed around the battlefield.

Lance looked up just in time to spot an incoming dark magic bolt headed his way. The warning gave him just enough time to react defensively. He plunged the tip of his spear to the ground and channeled earth magic. "Gaea!" he called forth, summoning a wall of earth before him to block the dark magic bolt. He was engulfed in the explosion that ensued but was mostly unharmed when the smoke cleared. Worried for his squad, Lance looked back to check how they were doing. Good, they were unharmed and still in one piece. However, that might not be the case if he were to lead them further out front to the Northern Gate of District Five. The fighting was only going to get tougher from here on out, and he didn't want them to get involved in such a fight until they were actually ready.

However, as Gil said, they were only going to get necessary choices from here on out.

"Keep your eyes peeled everyone! Don't get hit by magic from those Pure Sinners!" he warned his squad and began advancing again. They needed to get into position to regroup with the main force and help the other knights set up an actual defensive perimeter. It was bad enough that most of the knights were scattered around town when the attack came, and it was even worse that it took a lot longer for them to establish an actual line! Had this been the old days, the response time would have been a lot quicker and there wouldn't be this much Sinners running rampant inside town. They would have been able to bottle them outside and by now they should have been whittling them down and thinning their numbers.

But alas! These were not the old times. The caliber of knights today paled in comparison to the ones who fought in the First War. It was no wonder he was feeling a lot of pressure now that he was suddenly forced into this precarious situation. Lance wondered for a moment just how much more pressure would he feel if he were to supposedly fill in Gil's shoes.

A lot more, no doubt.

His thoughts were broken by more terrified screams coming from the front. More civilians were running back towards them, chased by marauding Sinners that threatened to either kill them or turn them. Springing to action, Lance called out to his squad, "Civilians incoming!" he warned them, "Chigusa, Lucian, break right and flank the Sinners! Olen, Reinhardt, attack from the left!" he barked his orders and looked back, "Gerard, Filio, you two are on me! We're intercepting from the front! Make sure they don't get to those people first!"

"Yes Captain!" was the unified response from his team as they carried out their orders.





Day 29th of Month 4: Gless - Grand Cathedral


Guilford let out an exasperated sigh as he continued reading the recent report sent to them from the rehabilitation department. Though beautifully worded, it still failed to hide the strong implication of the hardships currently faced by their rehabilitation facilities. There were also hints about possible long term effects to the islands under their control as a whole if they kept going at this rate. To summarize, they were apparently saving far more Sinners than they could accommodate and completely rehabilitate before being sent back out to function in society. Adding to that was the rapidly decreasing roles these absolved ones could fill in their turning of a new leaf, which comes to the ultimate conclusion that they needed more land, and that they were reaching the populous limit for most towns.

Purple eyes involuntarily turned to the empty desk of Hyuga in the other corner of the room. Guilford could only pray whatever the Dreamer had in store for them, that he succeed in his endeavor.

He was rubbing his temples to ease a light headache when the door to his squad quarters flung open. Outside stood a Scribe panting for breath. Guilford snapped his gaze onto the man and was about to reprimand him for the rude intrusion when the Scribe spoke..

"Master Guilford! Priority message! Lindela... it's been attacked!"

"What?!" his features sharpened at the knowledge, "How bad?!"

"F-full scale invasion!"

As if to confirm the news he just received, the Grand Cathedral bells began to toll a coded message direct to all knights about the matter. Guilford sprang to his feet, knocking down his chair in the process, as he stormed out of his squad quarters. He passed by Omi in the halls but paid no mind to the Scribe though he looked like he wanted to speak with him. Far more pressing matters are at hand, and any time he wasted on idle banter was time the people of Lindela needed. He was on his way to the Council Chambers, with the goal of convincing them to let the Seraphs sortie. He already knows of their possible response to this but...

Guilford was not going to take no for an answer.

_________________

[[Day 28 of Month -4 :: The Grand Cathedral]]

The moment they left the crowds in the Cathedral, Seraphim released the snicker she'd been carefully suppressing. "You totally owned him." She crowed happily, pleased on Lethe's behalf. It was good her younger sister got some recognition for her abilities.

Pensive looks covered several faces at the older woman's words but none said anything. Instead, Lethe shooed them all away with a chiding smile. Surely they all had their tasks to finish? She didn't recall giving them the morning off! One by one, with grumbles and parting congratulations, the members of Team Blonde peeled off.

It was in the solitude of their squad quarters that Deimos finally queried, "Is that such a good thing? What Seraphim said?"

Adair and Lethe shared sideways looks at the other Knight's question. Illusion magic wasn't unheard of. . . The latter fiddled with her tea cup as she responded, "No, it isn't." She peered into the depths of her mug but the amber liquid held no answers.

"Should you mention it to him?"

"I'm sure he's aware.” Deimos and Adair both glanced over at the unexpectedly cold tone. “This can’t be the first time I've faked an injury to get a drop on him." The woman standing at the end of the room wasn't their friend; affection had been superseded by the resolve needed to lead the Immaculate. A Seraph looked clinically past them as if mentally tallying the lives Guilford’s weakness might cost them. Her gaze dropped away and a self mocking laugh broke the suddenly tense silence. Who responded next, their Captain or their Seraph, neither Adair nor Deimos were quite sure: "The follies of being human."

The white haired stranger set aside her cup with a deafening clink of porcelain on wood, signalling the end of that conversation, and in that moment transformed back into the Lethe they knew. "I can hardly ask you to harden your hearts to your friends and family. It is these vulnerabilities, inconvenient as they may be at times, that give us the ability to sympathize. Now,” Blue eyes focused on the two Knights in the room, “since apparently you two have so much free time, shall we start your Seraph training? The first step is..." An anticipatory smile, a touch frightening in its eagerness, broke out on Lethe's face. Given the display they'd just seen, Deimos and Adair couldn’t help but wonder if it was their turn to face the tips of Lethe’s Heaven’s Judgement blades, "Meditation!"

[[Day 29 of Month -4, Morning :: Barrens]]

What a glorious day it was indeed! Eve couldn’t help but let a sinister smile linger on her lips a little longer as she watched her Sinners work their butts off in tidying her abandoned (after suffering her wrath on more than one occasion) throne room. She couldn’t afford to let him see her throne room in shambles! That would be unbecoming of her. His return deserved better! And what better way was there to celebrate his return than with the attack on Lindela? The plan was perfect!

She had been overseeing her Sinners place her newly acquired Vision Orb, for them to be able to watch Lindela burn to the ground as they celebrate, when the double doors of her throne room creaked open. She looked over to see two silhouettes. One was wrapped in a shapeless cloak that hid all from view except its wearer’s height, which towered above its companion. The other shade was more petite, clearly a female, but her features otherwise indiscernible due to the backlighting. All that could be seen from the two shadows were burning red lights.

As they entered the room, their dramatic shadows crept away to reveal two demons: the God of Sin’s remaining Exalted. Amon was nothing more than a billowy black cloak, his left arm visible only because it was cradling an ancient tome. Syndra was not as hidden in her standard navy blue garment. A jagged scar of silver cloth cleaved its way diagonally across her torso even as a line of buttons, dark blue or silver to hide against their surrounding fabric, marched its way from her neck to her feet. The bottom of the jacket was split into four strips, a useless defense against the wind but dramatic enough for a follower of the God of Sin. Utility was of little import when weighed against temptation.

The elder Exalted nodded his cloaked head in greeting as the pair reached the center of the Throne Room.

“Lady Eve,” Syndra greeted with forced indifference, “Is the Lord soon to arrive?” While she had no affection for the other demon, their God did and it wouldn’t be wise to anger him.

Eve locked gazes with her fellow demon for a moment before returning her attention to her Vision Orb. She would prefer they not be here but… “Yes. He’s just about done changing. He should be out soon.” she responded coldly.

The sound of Sinners scampering away from the leftmost doorway pulled Eve’s attention in that direction just in time to spot the entrance of her beloved lord. Draped in the finest garments Tethel could offer, the God of Sin walked his way towards the center of the Throne Room where the small group waited. He was looking around curiously before his gaze stopped on his little queen.

“I see you haven’t lost your.. destructive touch.” He chuckled and turned towards his other guests. He walked closer to Syndra, raising his right hand and brushing the back of it against Syndra’s cheek. “It has been far too long. Have you been well?”

Red eyes looked downwards at the brush of soft skin against her cheek, feeling a thrill of pleasure. The God of Sin had always had that effect on all of his children. It was what had drawn her away from the Light in the first place. “I have been fine, my lord.” She whispered in a futile hope that the softer volume would keep the desire from being heard. She had based Victorie on her memories of her Lord but clearly time had worn those memories away. Being in his presence once more, being the center of his attention, was intoxicating. One hand clenched in an attempt to ground herself.

“That is good to hear.” He responded and turned towards the billowy presence beside Syndra. He was unsure if he wanted to shake his bony hand or simply greet his old friend. They had known each other far too long to have an open display of respect and acknowledgment from each other. “Amon, what sort of dastardly deeds have you been up to?”

A rasping laugh emerged from the hood like a corpse’s death rattle. “This and that, old friend.” The first Exalted replied. Amon didn’t bother with any displays of deference. The God of Sin had sought him out to try the first Exaltation. He may not have the sheer power the other demon had, but he considered himself more than an equal.

A knowing smile parted the God of Sin’s lips. Had he not known better? Amon had undoubtedly spent his time wisely in his absence. Turning around to look at the entirety of the throne room, he adopted a questioning look as he noticed several absences. “What of Raim?” A shroud of silence answered his query. “And Lillith?”

Eve’s heart pounded at the question. It was mostly her fault that Lillith was… defeated by those wretched pests. It had also been her fault that Lillith’s essence had been completely lost, though Syndra was a part of the blame for that as well. She gulped drily, sorting her thoughts into place and her words into coherence. “Lillith… is gone.” It was all she would say about that, “I don’t know about Raim.”

Gone? No wonder he could no longer feel her connection. Assuming his thoughts were correct, Raim must have suffered the same fate too given his similar lack of attendance. Well, that was too bad. They wouldn’t be a part of this new world he had been given a second chance to recreate. Tough luck for them. “A pity.” he answered nonchalantly; he had heard all he needed.

He turned around and walked towards the throne, eyeing the marble seat with an amused expression. The last time he sat on one was the time the Knights came for him all those years ago. Would the same happen now? Curiosity began to swirl inside him. He had wanted to know the situation between his forces and the wretched Light for some time now after his return. Who better to tell him than his generals?

“Now then,” His gaze settled on his subordinates as he finally sat on the throne. “to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asked, expression sharpening to that of his usual demeanor.

“We cannot wish to see old friends again?” Amon wondered with another wheezing laugh. “You have, after all, been gone for so long.” There was a minute turn of his head as his attention shifted to the flustered blond demon beside the God of Sin. “And there were some.. difficulties in your return.” The venomous glare Eve shot him was easily ignored; it only prompted another darkly amused chuckle. He had much respect for his old friend except his choice of consort. Powerful she may be; intelligent she was not. There was little beauty in the brute strength the other demon used to resolve her problems. “It is good to see you whole and healthy once more, God of Sin.”

“Our lord is back. That’s all that mat—”

Her words were cut off by a simple raise of his right hand. He was no longer in the mood for petty pleasantries. The time they had now were better spent plotting or eating away at the Light that still lingered in this world. “Friendship.” he mumbled, “Such a troubling concept is it not?” his eyes wandered over to the Sinners that still worked on Eve’s device in the middle of the throne room. They were just pawns, the lot of them. What made his generals any different? He chuckled at Amon’s final words. While he appreciated their concern, he did not need it, though he found no need to say such if only to keep them loyal to him.

“Very well. It is good to see you all as well.” His gaze shifted to the device, “I have been wondering about that for some time now. What are we supposed to be looking at?”

”A gift from me for your return, my lord.” Eve immediately supplied the answer, “Lindela has been primed for an attack. I thought you would enjoy witnessing their suffering.” At her darling’s nod of approval, the petite demon spun to face the two demons before them. ”Dear Exalted,” She began with kinder words than she harbored in her hearts for those useless lumps who had done nothing to support their God’s return, ”I think it only appropriate you lead the attacks on Lindela? What better way to celebrate our liege’s return than to slaughter his enemies?”

Brown eyes gleamed with triumph as first Syndra then Amon bowed their heads in recognition of her command. They had gotten entirely too independent in their time away; she was their God’s consort. She should be obeyed. ”Then this afternoon, let Lindela burn.”

The God of Sin smirked at the mention of suffering. Ahh those were the days! His eyes darted towards his two generals, nodding his approval as well. “Let the festivities begin.”

[[Day 29 of Month -4, Noon :: The Grand Cathedral]]

Seraphim sighed in boredom as she let the shard drop from her hand into a tray filled with other faintly glowing jewels. Her hand automatically dug into the box beside her, pulled out another shard, and started gathering holy magic. Dear Light, she was bored. A yawn split her face as she forced her magic into the quartz fragment and she rubbed the tears away. Purple eyes looked over the room lazily in hopes of something more interesting.

Lethe was reading documents at the table, as usual. Unusually, it was Valiar sitting across from her at the table; his head was also bent over documents of some sort. Adair sat on the ground by the window, supposedly meditating. His sword rested to his left and his shield to the right. Huh, was there any reason for that unusual placement? Pondering that question kept her busy for another two shards before she gave up; she couldn’t discern any underlying motive for the reversed settings.

With another sigh, the pink haired Knight continued scanning the room. The only other person in the squad quarters was Leon but he too seemed busy reading something as he paced the room. Boring! She hurled the empowered quartz shard into the tray, rattling the pieces inside, and then stomped to her feet. Everyone paused to look at her. She knew Adair hadn’t been really meditating!

Seraphim frowned at the entire room. She clenched her fists.

“Is something the matter, Seraphim?” Of course Lethe would break the silence. Her younger sister lowered the documents she had been reading and Seraphim caught sight of the top of the papers.
With a gusty sigh, the pink haired Knight collapsed back into her seat and pulled out another shard. After a moment, everyone else resumed their previous activities. Seraphim couldn’t in good conscience bother the others if they were all busy. Normally she’d have no such qualms but. . . A frown furrowed her eyebrows downwards. These weren’t really normal times. She tossed the umteenth shard into the tray and picked out another one.

Where had YunQiao gotten all these fragments anyways? The older woman eyed the box of jewels beside her. They were, according to YunQiao, regalia quartz shards, the scraps left over after cutting the jewels for their Faith necklaces. They were normally thrown away but he had salvaged a few boxes for--Seraphim wasn’t quite sure, to be honest. YunQiao had tried to explain to her but had stopped the moment he realized she’d completely blanked out. Come on! She hadn’t learned all the fancy words he’d been throwing around! She hadn’t gone to the Pristine Knight Academy like him! She’d dropped out of school in the First War and hadn’t bothered catching up on her education, except when necessary, since. All she knew was he wanted her to imbue the fragments with holy magic and she had to do them one by one.

She was fairly certain that requirement had only been to tick her off. When she’d asked why, he’d started another lecture. Whatever, it was easier to just power these things up one by one than try to understand YunQiao’s explanation. The work wasn’t even hard; it was just. . . dull. Another long suffering sigh passed her lips as she returned to her original position: sitting on a couch charging up jewel fragments in a dead silent room. Ugh.

The sudden skid of chair legs scraping against the floor startled Seraphim back into awareness. Lethe was staring at the far corner intently, heavens judgment blades half drawn. Leon was the next to react, spinning from looking at Lethe to the face the far corner as well. Seraphim scrambled to her feet, her haste accidentally upsetting the tray of magic filled shards. However, the pink haired Knight’s attention was on the figure appearing in the corner. Prayer flared around her in anticipation before the stranger revealed itself to be the newest member of Team Prissy.

“H-Help--!” The brunette shouted before the thing in her arms--Divine Light, that was a person!--groaned. “Lindela… is going to be… attacked.. soon..” The bloody mess warned before fainting.

There was a moment of surprised silence before Team Blonde sprung into action. Valiar rushed towards the patient as Seraphim glanced over the room, caught Lethe’s eye, and then hurried out. No doubt Captain would want to speak with the Council right away. Adair had gotten to his feet and was moving towards the filing cabinets. He returned with the lists of all the current deployments in Gless and Lindela. Leon had pinned up Lindela’s map and was already looking over it.

“Fiona, what else do you know?” Lethe demanded, guiding the trembling Knight away from Valiar and whoever he was healing. However, the brunette’s attention was on the two in the corner. With a silent prayer for patience, Lethe took hold of Fiona’s face and forced it in her direction. When she saw she had the other woman’s attention, Lethe repeated. “Fiona, you’re telling me Lindela is about to be attacked. What else do you know?”

A grim-faced Seraph left the Council Chambers. She had just wrangled authorization from the Council for her and Guilford to be deployed into Lindela in light of the coming attack. Her gaze flickered to the two Knights waiting by the messenger bench: Seraphim and Fiona. The latter was still a bit pale but clearly trying to focus on the present despite her anxiety. The former waited quietly in full combat gear.

“Fiona, go to Squad Eight’s chambers and tell Guilford we’re cleared for deployment. Seraphim, we’ll take three of the Cathedral’s squads with us as back up. Inform Barracks Three and Six to send half of their reserves to defend the Cathedral. Meet at the Elevator Shaft.” Lethe didn’t even wait for the nods of acknowledgement before she turned her mind to the next task. The veterans and Captain Abel needed to be informed.

[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]


Cool red eyes surveyed the greenery around her. A deep inhale filled dead lungs with fresh air. There was a crispness—a zing—in the atmosphere that Palaugrim had always lacked. It burned softly in her throat, the simmer edging closer to pleasure than pain. Light. Faith. Hope. They were so abundant on these lands they’d permeated the air. Pale lips curled into a euphoric smile. It would make destroying them all the more sweeter.

“Hurry up! I don’t have all day!” Syndra barked, turning a scornful gaze on the Reapers still shuffling laboriously out of the tunnels Eve had set up. These newest creations of Amon were slower than the originals, both physically and mentally. It was the difference between humans and Pristine Knights, she supposed. She snapped her whip at a particularly sluggish Reaper to motivate it to speed up. Instead, it crumpled to the ground and halted the entire procession, the others apparently too stupid to walk around it. In her peripheral vision, she could already see the others bumping into each other and forming a roadblock of bodies.

A sound of disgust escaped her lips as she stalked over to the useless Reaper. A Sin-encased hand grabbed the waste of space by the chest, uncaring of the way her fingers pierced its flesh. It struggled futilely but only accomplished knocking off its hood. A half human, half skeletal face contorted in pain as it whined pitifully. Syndra dragged it back to her previous spot; another crack of her whip got the Reapers to start moving once more.

Finally, her group of dullards finished their march. Next came the Sinners and Pure Sinners; the latters’ normal solitary natures overridden by the God of Sin’s commands. When the God of Sin told them to jump, they didn’t even bother asking how high. They just started jumping. And if the God of Sin wanted her to be overseeing this pack of idiots, at least there was the possibility of violence to sweeten the chore.

A weak scratching at her wrist reminded her she wasn’t alone. When the demon looked down, the Reaper was still mewling pathetically but now it had taken to pawing at her arm. “Hey. Hey!” She repeated, the increased volume getting the Reaper’s attention. An orange human eye looked up at her pleadingly. “If you promise to kill at least twenty humans, I’ll make the pain go away, okay?” Her face contorted into a sickly sweet smile, muscles straining to perform such an unfamiliar action, but the Reaper seemed ignorant of her artifice. Its eye lightened in hope and it nodded enthusiastically, its hood flapping with the jolting movement. “Alright. I’ll be watching though, so don’t try to cheat!” The brunette warned in a sing-song voice, casting a spell over the Reaper to enhance its strength. The spell would feed off the artificial life animating the Reaper. She’d never have to see the disgusting face again. With a final rictus of a smile, Syndra released the Reaper and let it return to its comrades.

Trash, all of them. Nothing more than cannon fodder.

“Master Amon won’t be pleased if you kill all his Reapers.” A soft but venomous voice spoke up from behind her. Syndra cocked a head back to see her guest. Luminous gold eyes stared at her accusingly under a fringe of curly black hair. A sneer formed on the puppeteer’s face.

“Know your place, dog.” Red eyes flashed in warning; the air shimmered as countless threads of Sin appeared for a moment before vanishing. A line appeared on the horned Sinner’s neck, fizzling in the Light-laden air. Pale blue lips compressed into a tight line of disapproval before Anrui looked away. Master Amon might rank higher than Syndra as the first to be Exalted, but she came nowhere close. As if sensing her submission, the other demon scoffed but said nothing more.

Syndra flicked a hand out and scattered her threads. They fell one by one into the army she’d been given to command, connecting those Sinners, Pure Sinners, and Reapers with her. In her mind’s eye, she recalled the Districts she’d been ordered to attack. “Come.” She ordered, her command reinforced by a subtle tightening of her strings. Her puppets moved en masse towards Districts Eight and Nine.

Anrui curled pale grey fingers around the trap she called a necklace, its spikes digging into her flesh. Just because she used to be. . . An animalistic growl escaped her throat and the sound immediately froze her ire. A pale throat convulsed uncertainly as she swallowed. No. No, she’s show that skank who was better.

Who cared about being able to rampage with a bunch of minions? There was nothing glamorous about Slaughter anyways. Malady had always been the best of the Three Sorrows anyways. The reminder of Master Amon’s praise—her project was to be the God of Sin’s welcome present!—was enough to stir her into action. Master Amon had requested she lead a force of Sinners as well. With one last contemptuous look in Syndra’s departing direction, the horned demon ducked back through the teleportation tunnel. She would not betray Master Amon’s expectations of her.

“Keep those Prayers up!”
“They’ve trapped some civilians in that house!”
“Banish!”
“Help me!”
“Another group has been sighted two streets over!”
“Smite!”

[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Gless]]

“Scribe!” Omi paused as he heard a shout. Was the person talking to him? He was a scribe and a look ahead confirmed no other scribe was in front of him. Perhaps the person was addressing him. The redhead turned around, returning the reports he was distributing to his messenger bag, and started at the sight of Master Lethe walking towards him. She looked distinctly unhappy. “Scribe..” Blue eyes focused on him and there was flash of recognition, “Omi!” She indicated for him to follow her as she commanded, “I need you--” Her words were cut off as a heavy ringing filled the air.

Both Knight and Scribe paused for a moment as the bells rang. Omi frowned at the sound. Weird.. it wasn’t the hour yet. No, it didn’t even sound like the hourly chimes.

“Omi, find Captain Abel and tell him he will lead the defenses here. He should be heading to the main courtyard but see if you can cut him off before he reaches there. Then go to the infirmary and tell Sister Heidie to prepare her clerics. If there are any willing to enter the battlefield, have her prepare them for deployment. Tell any clerics you come across to return to the infirmary immediately.”

Master Lethe only stayed long enough for him to nod he understood before she was pacing off once more. Omi looked uncertainly at the retreating figure before he turned to fulfill his task, hastened by the ominous chorus.

[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]

Marion hacked at the Sinner, the poorly aimed blow enough to make the Sin creature turn his way. The couple scurried away the moment the Sinner looked away with only a wide eyed look as an expression of gratitude. The Squad Captain grimly blocked the Sinner’s retaliation, dancing away from the front legs as they kicked out. He’d learned that trick of theirs first hand years ago when he was fresh out of the Academy. A surge of holy magic coated his blade in Penance. He was no Master Lethe but even he could learn some tips from the Seraph. His next slash had the Sinner freezing as the paralyzing effects of Penance took effect. He struck it down with a grim face, blocking its dying scream from his ears. There was a time for mercy and a time for rationale. This was the latter time.

He turned to look over the square. It used to be a small market famous for its artwork; now it was a scene of chaos. Glass, formerly stained and sculpted into countless masterpieces, lay shattered on the cobblestones. Paintings had been shredded by the rampaging monsters. Pieces of pottery littered the ground, an impromptu weapon against the Sinners by a few desperate civilians. Most of them had been evacuated by now, only a few Sinners and his squad remained.

A scream drew his attention to the left. Some towered, hooded monstrosity had appeared. If the bloody, metallic scythe was any indication, it wasn’t an ally. (The oppressive Sin that surrounded it lent credence to that conclusion.) Marion shot a Banish at the thing and successfully garnered its attention. The unknown Sin Creature gripped its scythe close to its body as if uncertain of what to do.

“Penance!” The chains of holy light erupted from the ground and pinned the creature in place. An unnatural keening filled the air as it strained against the bonds. The squad captain lifted his blade and steeled his heart. He could try to save the Sinner but he didn’t have the time. Though faint, he could hear other screams and more sounds of fighting. Whatever he and his squad had stumbled upon, it hadn’t been isolated to this square. Lifting his blade, he ran towards the snared Sin creature. He would at least give it a quick death.

The thing struggled harder as its screams grew louder, seemingly knowing its death was coming. Marion had just reached full speed, too close to stop, when everything slowed. There was a burst of Sin and he braced himself for the blowback. His Prayer condensed around him as a barrier.

“Ooph.” At once, his holy aura dimmed. He coughed a sickly wet sound and wondered why his lips suddenly felt moist. The ground swam in front of his eyes and he slowly, painstakingly looked down. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. A triangle of red and silver glowed near his stomach, protruding from his abdomen. He could feel his magic dimming as everything grew hazy around him. His sword dropped from numb fingers even as the agony in his stomach grew.

Suddenly he was falling. No, he had fallen. He had felt the impact of his cheek hitting the ground but any pain it spawned was overwhelmed by the frost creeping into his body. One eye searched desperately for his killer. He wanted—no, he needed—to know what had killed him. From the depths of the creature’s hood, an orange eye stared past him, confusion evident in the human feature.

“N-Nine?” A vaguely human voice muttered, “N-n-no. Te-te-teven?”

Romauld let a small sigh pass his lips as he stepped out of the Wyervia. One hand massaged the back of his neck as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen them. One benefit of having been permanently stationed on Palaugrim the past few years had been not having to fly around in these blasted tin cans. It appeared that respite was coming to an end.

With another sigh, he let his hand drop back to his side, his spine straightening as he caught sight of a Knight striding down the ramp towards him. He wasn’t expected to report in until tomorrow but had left Rasova a day early. There was no point for him to mope around his town; Hamish was either ready or he wasn’t. One more day of Romauld’s presence wouldn’t change that fact. Instead, it was just prolong his men’s lassitude as they mourned his relocation. He was glad he’d left such a favorable impression on them, but changes in posts were a fact of military life and Master Lethe had determined it was time for him to—his resolve faltered at the reminder of this next step in his career.

Seraph. . .

“Knight Commander Romauld.” A gruff voice broke him from his moment of panic. He still hadn’t completely reconciled himself with what was upcoming. “Welcome to Lindela.”

“Captain Kobayashi.” Romauld returned with a smart clap of his fist against his breastplate. He’d never met the other man before but had been the recipient of many of his letters. The older man ran the critical Wyervia Port that shipped Knights on and off Palaugrim, so they had exchanged frequent missives regarding troop strengths, reinforcements, and provisions. “Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

The two Knights turned to walk down the landing strip, heading towards the command post of the Wyervia Port. “So, Gless’s District Three, huh?” Kobayashi began with a thoughtful hum as one hand stroked his beard. It had been a surprise to hear that one of Palaugrim’s Knight Commanders was being relocated, especially to such a cushy job. With the War raging in Palaugrim, he would have thought they’d want their most competent leaders on the battle front. It seemed a waste of resources to him for the experienced Knight Commander to be relocated so close to the Seraphs.

“Yes.” The brunette responded shortly. He was well aware of the unusual nature of his move; he’d heard his men grumbling about it as well. None of them knew of his potential promotion and the Seraphs wished to keep it that way.

The Lindela native shook his head in incomprehension. “Well, perhaps you’ll have a chance to work with the Seraphs or their squads? I hear they were sparring yesterday and all the Knights are in a tizzy over such a display of skill. Suddenly my trainees,” the look Kobayashi shot the practicing rookies was half annoyed and half amused, “are all fired up drills and practices.” He harrumphed as he crossed his arms but said nothing more.

“I’m sad I missed it then.” Romauld responded truthfully; it would have been nice to see the Seraphs go all out without having to fear for his life. They were what he had to match. He needed to know how far that distance was. “I’ll—” Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by sudden tolling. All the Knights—no, all the people—froze at the unexpected ringing. Clang. Clang. Clang.

Brown eyes widened as he deciphered the bell strikes. Some parts were unfamiliar but the message was clear enough: they were under attack. He dropped his bag to the ground and tore open the zipper, fingers grasping his staff. Regulation dictated weapons be placed at the top of packed bags for a reason. The sound seemed to break Kobayashi from his shock and he immediately started bellowing orders, a sweep of his arm and a shout enough to get the trainees running for the barracks to exchange their training armor for live steel.

“Where should I go?” Romauld asked as his eyes swept the Wyervia Port. Nothing seemed amiss besides the sudden frenetic activity as dockhands locked down the Wyervias. The bells were still tolling of attacks but the exact locations were still indiscernible to him. He’d have to memorize all the codes as soon as this fiasco was done.

“District Five. District Eight. District Eleven.” Suddenly the bells changed tunes, their warning becoming more frantic. “Our district is being attacked!” Kobayashi shouted with wide eyes, starting to run towards the command post. Romauld hurried after him. Two squads were already assembling outside the base. “Knight Commander, my second in command Matias and Knight Captain Petre. Matias, head into the District to provide support. Petre, send half your men out as well with Matias. The trainees and the rest of us will stay here in defense.” Both men nodded and turned to their own troops. “Knight Commander Romauld..” Kobayashi began, uncertain of what to say. The other outranked him but he had no idea what to do with the Palaugrimian.

“May I take command of the half squad Petre is sending out?” Romauld offered, one eye on the four men being pulled aside. There was a grateful nod before Kobayashi hustled away, mind already on other matters. The bells continued to toll.

_________________

Day 29th of Month 4: Gless - Grand Cathedral


"Captain!"

The familiar voice that yelled for Guilford's attention came from the hall leading towards the Council Chambers. The moment he lifted his head up from contemplation, he saw Fiona rushing towards him with a grim look on her face. He stopped in his tracks to allow the female knight to approach him and just as soon as she did, the grim expression turned into a pale one. Fiona huffed in an attempt to catch her breath, hanging on to the tiny shred of composure she had left in her. By now, the coded message conveyed by the consistent tolling of the bells had probably already alerted every single knight in the vicinity about the predicament Lindela was currently in, and his Captain clearly already knew judging by how sharp his eyes looked, and how his hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail—its usual arrangement when going out to combat. He was also lugging his sword around with him even though he was inside the Cathedral.

"We've been cleared to move out." she urgently said, skipping the informative part and nodding a head back the way she came from.

With a surprised look, Guilford shortened the question he was just about to ask. "Lethe?"

A confirming nod from Fiona was the only response, affirming that it was indeed the other Seraph's doing.

Sighing a breath of relief for not going to have to deal with old men, Guilford immediately turned the other way from the hall that led to the Council Chambers. His strides were quick and purposeful, resolve steeled as he and Fiona made their way out of the Cathedral. When the two reached the ground floor, they were stopped by the other members of Squad Eight, already geared up and ready to go. Alfrei was the one leading the pack; a good thing they decided to stick close even though they were given time off.

"Captain, we came as fast as we could. Are we heading out?"

"We are. I've already made arrangements for a Wyervia transport." he informed his Vice Captain, eyes scanning the rest of his squad for one missing member. "Vlad?" he once again shortened the question he had.

Before anybody else could answer, a holy powered carrier pigeon flew its way inside the Cathedral and hovered above the male Seraph. It was Vlad's pigeon. Guilford immediately plucked the note tied to its leg and opened it in haste.

"Captain, I've gone on ahead." was the concise message it contained. Guilford sighed but knew he couldn't fault his knight for rushing out recklessly; his family was after all, in Lindela.

"He went on ahead of us. We'll just have to meet up with him there." Guilford slid the note into his satchel and proceeded out of the Cathedral, the rest of his squad close behind him.

Outside, the whole of the courtyard was swarming with knights on the move, undoubtedly at Lethe's behest. Impressive as always on her part. She may not know it, and he may not admit it to her openly, but she always made his life simpler in situations such as this. All that was left for him now was to move out and get there as soon as he could; a matter he had already taken care of.

Judging from the vague reports in regard to the attack, he opted it would be wise to take flight instead of using the elevator shaft that connected the two islands. If worse comes to worst, the elevator shaft would undoubtedly be best used to ferry the Lindelans up to Gless.

"Gil!"

Another call for him diverted his attention from the speck in the sky speeding towards them to the owner of the voice. A short breath and a moment of recognition later, he found Alona and Silver also rushing towards them.

"We're going with you." the redhead spoke first as soon as she stopped, followed by a secondary nod from Silver.

Guilford simply shook his head. "You two are staying put. It would set my mind at ease knowing there's two more highly capable knights defending Gless."

"But—!"

He knew an argument was bound to follow with how Alona's eyes rolled around, good thing he had contingencies, "Seraph's orders." he said flatly. While he did not enjoy pulling rank against his friends, he needed them to stay here in his and Lethe's absence. There's really only a few knights he would, without question and hesitation, entrust the safety of an island to, and these knights were among the few. "Leave Lance to me." he voiced out their hidden concern followed by an encouraging smile. "I need you both, and your men on high alert and on standby, just in case Lindela's attack is just another subterfuge. Is that clear?"

Before any of the two could answer, all chances at further conversation was taken away by the loud roaring engines of the Wyervia that just now came hovering above the center of the courtyard. With one last assuring look at Alona and Silver, Guilford began walking towards their transport in haste.






Day 29th of Month 4: Lindela - District Five


Clang!

Lance blocked another slash, clipping the blade of a Reaper's scythe between the prongs of his spear tip. There was hardly any time to breathe when the Lion suddenly found himself under attack from the sides the moment he got into a deadlock. A hasty retreat was in order. Repositioning himself a few steps back, Lance assessed their current situation. Everything was going smoothly for them a while back, until now. Somehow, the Pure Sinners beyond the walls had been suppressed by the front line. It took a while but he was glad they were given a break from having to constantly dodge magic artillery as they fought within the town walls. On the one hand it was a good thing, a blessing in disguise. Then again on the other, given how these Reapers now showed their faces within town, perhaps it was not so good that they stopped the bombardment. Either way, there were still civilian and knight casualties alike, and the body count was still steadily on the rise, and his squad might be the next addition.

Swaying back to dodge a sudden swipe from one of the reapers before him, Lance countered with a blast of fire that set the creature ablaze, staggering back from the force of his attack. Lance immediately balanced his footing and raised his weapon defensively, parrying the next set of swipes while holding his ground. With three of his squad members having sustained critical injuries during the course of their defensive effort, he couldn't afford to move an inch until their treatment was finished.

"Chigusa, how is everything back there?!" he asked in concern, not for himself but for his injured knights.

"I've managed to stop the bleeding Captain but I need more time!" she roared back, seemingly having great difficulty focusing on her healing given she had three critical patients before her.

Lance silently clicked his tongue, time was not a commodity they had in abundance right now. "Gerard, Lucian, how are you guys holding up?!" he asked again, blocking more simultaneous swipes from his front and pushing back his assailants right after realizing he was losing ground.

The two who were defending Chigusa's flanks as she went about healing their injured members could only grunt in exhaustion. At least Gerard was doing much better than Lucian who looked like he was about to collapse. The latter knight was skilled indeed, but upon seeing how Reinhardt almost got taken out by a Reaper because of his rashness shattered the knight's resolve and instilled fear in his heart. Had it not been for Lance coming to his rescue, he would have died frozen in fear right on the spot.

"I'm managing!" Gerard answered back, bashing a Reaper that tried to bite him in the face with his shield. "Lucian is struggling though!"

"I-I'm fine!" the other knight voiced out his false bravado. He was clearly struggling, and his body won't move like he wanted it to. He was trembling, and his mind couldn't help but keep picturing his own death at the hands of these creatures. He was afraid. Lucian had been bragging about how Master Guilford made a mistake for not choosing him to be in Squad Eight but now he finally understood why. He was still too green, his aspirations bigger than his actual capability as a knight. How could he even dream of saving many when he couldn't even save his fellow knight?! Much less himself!

Frustration seeped into his heart, clarity of mind diminishing rapidly as the trembling his body experienced gradually increased. He couldn't take it anymore, the anticipation of his own death nearly drove him to the brink...

Lucian lashed out.

Much to the surprise of both Captain and squad members, Lucian broke formation and attacked the closest Reaper to him, with nothing but desperation and fear backing his every sword swing. A cold bead of sweat in the heat of battle trickled down from Gerard's brow. He had just realized that Lucian had strayed from their formation and went on a hasty offensive. The same expression of dread was painted on the faces of the rest of Lance's squad, Captain included. They were Chigusa's last line of defense. Should one of them move out of position to respond, Chigusa would be left defenseless. Gerard was left with no option but to stay put, hold his line, and grind his teeth together.

As amazing as their Captain was, Gerard knew that even he had his limitations. Out of the three of them, Lance had the most Reapers kept at bay. It was painfully clear that he could not afford to move from his spot, and the expression Lance had as he watched Lucian's reckless rampage only served to solidify that notion. Him on the other hand, even though having lesser Reapers to deal with, was clearly at his limits just trying to bottle them down. He couldn't afford to continue watching. Lights above! They needed a miracle!

A hard blow crashed down on Gerard's shield that immediately sent the knight down on one knee. It was as if the Reapers had sensed his hesitation and lack of focus that they decided to move in for the kill. Mind forced to the present, Gerard saw a glimmer of silver headed his way from his shieldless side. One of the Reapers was trying to get him where he was currently most vulnerable. Responding to the threat immediately, Gerard stuck his sword down on the cobble ground, an impromptu defense just to stop the scythe by blocking the handle making the blade halt its menacing advance just inches away from his neck. Now pinned down, Gerard knew that another attack from them would be the end of him, and the Reapers knew that too.

He closed his eyes and sighed, as if already accepting his fate. "I'm sorry everyone..."

Clang! The first sound he heard and the weight on his shield that kept him pinned down was gone.

A horrific scream of pain and agony from a Reaper was the next he heard. Now the scythe blade that threatened to cut off his neck fell motionless on the ground.

A crashing sound followed by shattering glass and the next thing he knew was that his front had now been cleared of the Reapers he was struggling against. Coming to replace them was a familiar female knight, and she was already running towards him...

"Shield up! Give me a boost!"

His body responded before his mind could rationalize what was going on. Gerard pulled his shield up front, tilting it slightly and offering it as a foothold for the female knight as she stepped on it and leaped over him, running the rest of the distance between her and Lucian when she landed. A sense of relief washed over him as the blue scarf worn by the female knight fell upon him. He finally realized that their Vice Captain had returned. Did the Light just answer his silent prayer? He did not know. All that he knew was that for now, he didn't have to worry about the loss of a squad mate. Gerard turned around to face the line entrusted to him again, only for his eyes to widen in surprise.

Now that he could see their Vice Captain's handiwork, he felt like he had misjudged her actual capabilities. There wasn't a shred of movement from any of the Reapers she had taken down, and there were reinforcements coming their way along with a group of clerics. Last he knew, the district center had been overrun and getting reinforcements to their side was next to impossible. How in the Light did she manage to get these knights and clerics here?

He took a quick glance at the blue scarf he now held and his brows contorted in a mix of concern and disbelief. He had failed to notice it earlier but the scarf itself was tainted with blood. Was it hers? Was she injured? He looked back again, only to find that their Vice Captain was already immersed in combat at Lucian's side. Though she looked fine from the way she was moving, it wouldn't hurt to check right?





Nothing could have prepared Squad Eight for the sight before their eyes. As their Wyervia descended upon Lindela, the devastation the island was currently going through solidified the dread already present in their hearts. From a distance, they could see the island burn. Districts were laid to waste by marauding forces, and not just one district could be considered fallen. Alfrei's hands curled into fists, Natalia could do nothing but cover her mouth, an audible gasp managed to escape Fiona's lips, and even Hyuga who only normally cared about interesting things looked unsettled. Only the more experienced knights did well in hiding their anxious telling. Guilford remained placid, as well as both Georg and Joaquim.

There didn't seem to be any pattern at all to the attacks, judging by how many and how scattered the districts in conflict were. How could he possibly plan a counter-strategy for this when everything appeared to be burning in random? Surely their forces are coming in from somewhere but how did they manage to get so deep into the districts?

The young Vice Captain could no longer contain his agitation, "Captain, what's our play?" he directed the query to the male Seraph.

The time Guilford remained silent was not spent for nothing. What was their play? Indeed, that was the question. One of the reasons why he chose to go in by Wyervia instead of taking the elevator shaft was for this, to get an overhead look at the island so he could grasp the situation. To his surprise, Lindela's current state exceeded his expectations, enough so to say that anything he had pre-planned, had to be re-planned. Not just minor adjustments needed to be made, and he knew he needed to do it quickly. Guilford closed his eyes and extended his senses as he began to concentrate, trying to get a feel for the two forces locked in vicious combat as they flew overhead. Seconds later, purple eyes snapped open, his next set of words directed at his squad.

"I know how this would sound but there's no point in trying to contain this widespread mayhem. As much as I wanted to, we're just eight people. The best we could do now is to establish solid ground and save as many citizens as we could. We'll have to deal with the aftermath later." he paused, purple eyes doing a good job at hiding his frustration. "We're splitting into two teams: Huyga, Natalia, Joaquim, I need you three in District Thirteen, find Vlad and help him in any way you can. Then I need you all to coordinate with the local district garrisons to secure and guide the citizens to safety—save as many as you possibly can," he then turned to look at Joaquim, "You'll be the man on the ground. Your orders are my orders. I want you to do everything you possibly can."

The Seraph then turned to the other half of his squad, "Alfrei, Fiona, Georg, we're going to set up command in the center of Lindela, particularly districts twenty-six, sixteen, seventeen and eight. Once we establish command and fortified the said districts, we'll send word out to any of the badly hit outer districts to fall back. Time is of the essence, we need to clear out any threats in those four districts and set a foothold. Is that understood?"

As soon as everyone nodded their understanding, Guilford turned to the pilot. "Take us to district thirteen as fast as you can, then get us to the center of the island."

_________________

[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]

A tense energy filled the elevator as the men and women inside tightened their gear, checked their swords, and prepared for battle. Even the presence of a Seraph and her squad couldn’t make the Knights be still. Lindela was under attack. From their vantage in the descending box, they could see fights breaking out all over the island. It was a chilling sight.

“You all know what to do?” The question reverberated through the enclosed room and prompted all to turn in the speaker’s direction, though Lethe had only been addressing her squad. Seraphim, Adair, Leon, and Valiar all nodded in response. In such a spread out fight, there was no reason for them to stay grouped as one. “Seraphim and Leon, go reinforce District Twelve. Adair and Valiar, take Gless Squad Fourteen with you to District Four.” There was the clang of armor on armor as Squad Fourteen acknowledged their order, overheard though it was. “If you see any of the others, allocate them accordingly. Gless Squads Five and Eighteen, please report to the local commanders for deployment and use your discretion where needed. Adair, I leave you in charge of the surrounding areas. Please coordinate with the others as necessary.”

The rest of her words became superfluous as the elevator settled on Lindelan ground. The doors hissed open to allow the men and women release. Despite the screams audible from here, all the Knights were still loitering around when Lethe left the elevator. She lifted an eyebrow in question but vanished from sight. She would reinforce the outer edges of Lindela, given her ability to reach there the fastest.

The White Seraph reemerged atop District Thirty Three, swords spread behind her to catch the drift as she floated to the ground. From her vantage in the air, she spotted a few fights in progress. A Reaper was surrounded by two Knight squads. A Sinner was battling a few wounded Knights. A Pure Sinner hid in shadows as a family ran towards it, clearly ignorant of its presence. It took but a moment for her to diagnose the situation before she vanished from the skies.

A white sword slammed into the ground in front of the fleeing family, forcing them to stop. They turned only to see another white sword blocking their escape route. The blades started glowing and a white barrier sprung into existence, enveloping them under a dome. There was a shriek of distress before they realized their entrapment did nothing. There was no pain. If anything, they hurt less! The group straightened as their exhaustion faded. What was going on?

It took no more than ten seconds for her to dispatch the Pure Sinner. It hadn’t expected someone else to find it, never mind sneak up on it, so it had no defenses to prevent Luna from slicing it in half. Lethe teleported to her next blades, appearing for a moment in front of the family she’d saved, before she vanished once more with the two swords in tow. She reappeared above the Sinner she’d spotted and cast Penance, vanishing before the chains had fully formed. The Reaper caused her no more trouble than its peers. Its corpse was still burning as she winked away once more, this time en route to another District.

“Sir, fighting has broken out near the district square!” A voice shouted out.

“Three blocks ahead and one to the left!” Another clarified, having realized their temporary in-charge had zero idea of Lindela’s layout. The man’s competence with the bo staff more than made up for that deficiency though. The brown-haired man had led them into what looked like ridiculous odds only for them emerge all alive. Their confidence in the unknown Knight was rising.

Romauld raised a hand in acknowledgement but otherwise saved his breath. Three blocks ahead then and one to the left. A scream of fear spurred him into action and he leapt into the fray just in time to block the downward strike of a scythe. A Reaper! He tapped into his Light’s Wrath and let it flow into his staff. Empowered by the divine magic, it was easy enough for him to throw the scythe away. The tip of his bo stabbed the Reaper in the stomach, earning him the sounds of cracking bones and a ghastly scream. Despite the eerie sound, Romauld pressed his advantage with a downward strike to the Reaper’s neck and then a follow up to its opposite side. There was no time for mercy against the Reaper. Another forward strike broke through the Reaper’s windpipe, if Sin Creatures had windpipes, and ended it.

The former Knight Commander kicked the body towards the side of the street, out of the way, and then turned towards the next fight. Two of his Knights were being overpowered by a Sinner. The sight made him want to frown. Two Knights shouldn’t have any problems with a Sinner. His men in Rasova could easily go one to one against a Sinner. A shot of Banish forced the Sinner back and gave him enough time to cast Penance. “Absolve it!” He ordered even as he turned away at the sound of running. A woman ran towards them with something clutched in her arms. Another shot of Banish left his hands to intercept the Sin bolt that would have struck her down. A Knight ran forward to guide the woman away as the other ran blindly in the direction she had come. Stupid! Who knew what was coming from there? Romauld ran after his errant Knight. A sense of foreboding had him diving forward and knocking his subordinate off his feet. There was a crash as a massive boulder slammed into the place they used to be. Pure Sinner! There was no other source for such a piece of rock.

“Careful. Pure Sinner.” He whispered to the Knight behind him as he looked around cautiously. His Prayer flared around him and after a moment, he felt another holy presence, weaker, join in.

“Wh-what do I do?” The Knight whispered in response, the unusual stuttering making Romauld look back. A sickly white face stared out from under a helmet and the man’s sword trembled. What? Pure Sinners were scary but hardly enough to make one pale with fright! Had Kobayashi sent out a trainee with him? “Have you never fought a Pure Sinner?” Romauld hissed in response, still trying to keep one eye on his surroundings. A shake of the head confirmed his suspicions. “I’ll try to break us free. Go back to the Square and get into a defensive position with the rest of the squad.”

There was no way he was taking a greenhorn into a fight with a Pure Sinner. The other Knight’s inexperience would be more deadly than chancing a Pure Sinner alone. “Ready.” He warned before he shot forward, bo staff knocking aside the sudden barrage of Sin Blasts, and ran for the other side of the boulder. He jumped onto the massive stone while his companion dashed around the side and back towards safety. Now alone, Romauld turned his attention to the still invisible Pure Sinner. He was a Seraph Candidate! He would prove himself worthy!

"Arriving in one." Leon warned as he pulled out his sword. His focus was on the fight up above: a crowd of strong Sin presences and a weakening collection of Light. One was dangerously close to dying. "Reapers!" He exclaimed in realization before shouting urgently, "Seraphim, Hurry!"

For a moment, he could sense nothing but pressure as the presence behind him--Seraphim--exploded. A blur of pure light dashed past him and then dropped off the roofs. The area shook at a sudden slam and then a Sinner went flying into the air. It flailed in panic before a blast of magic engulfed it. When the light dissipated, only dust remained to float to the ground. By the time Leon reached the battlefield, the weakened squad he'd sensed had backed away, realizing they were far outclassed and would only hinder the light-enveloped Knight. Instead, three were healing the almost dead Knight he'd sensed earlier. The remaining two stood defensively despite the tear tracks on their cheeks. Leon glanced at the rest of the street and felt his heart drop at the corpses. They were late.

There was a final thud and then Seraphim was standing in front of them. Light's Blessing surrounded her, washing out all her features except her swirling hair and vibrant purple eyes.

"I'm sorry."

The defensive Knights averted their eyes at the reminder of their dead comrades. "You, sit rep as we move. The rest of you, fall back. Injured, heal up then find a civ shelter to defend. You two, join another squad. This isn't over yet."

Under the force of her resolution, augmented by the swirling presence of the divine, the broken squad submitted. The three knights--two of Squad Lethe and the one they'd commandeered--jumped back onto the roofs and started running once more, Leon directing as the newest briefed them.

Things were grim in District Twelve. They had no Divine Magic capable Knights and were struggling to even contain the Pure Sinners that popped up. They hadn't even had their remedial training yet; it was scheduled for this weekend.

Leon ignored the bitter laugh the Knight released at that confession. Regrets would do them little help here. Others still needed their help.

“Get ready.” Cricket warned his companions as he tapped into his divine magic. Up ahead, a group of Sinners had broken into one of the shelters. The broken bodies by the entrance spoke of a failed defense and the screams inside warned of an impending massacre. The few Sinners still milling outside froze; they mechanically turned to face Cricket who had skidded to a stop and now had his sword lifted up defensively. Grisia, Lesus, and Roland also came to a halt by the Pristine Knight and settled into defensive stances as well.

“What are we waiting for?” Roland muttered from the corner of his mouth. His answer came in the unexpected charge of Sinners towards them. It seemed as if the creatures had lost all sense of rationale as they hurtled themselves towards the group of four. The three swordsmen struck out as behind them, Grisia started casting. The first wave was cut down; the second immobilized by the chains of Penance. The stragglers, their weapons painted red, emerged from the gaping Shelter at a gallop. All ran towards the faintly glowing Cricket who darted past Lesus. The first Sinner sliced itself apart on the former Scout’s sword. Cricket swerved around Roland and the remaining three Sinners followed once more. The brown-haired man had been so busy watching Cricket that he forgot to attack them. It was only Grisia’s exasperated “Roland! Hit them!” that spurred him into action. He ran after the Sinners but Grisia was already in the way. With an exaggerated roll of bright blue eyes, the former Advocate absolved the Sinners. The victims fell to the ground in a heap.

“You’d best turn that off.” Grisia told Cricket pointedly, looking between his old friend, his brother’s squadmates, and the civilians starting to leave the shelter as they ambled towards the Pristine Knight with a disturbing mindlessness. With a nervous laugh, Cricket did as told. The moment the glow vanished, so did the trance everyone--save Grisia, Roland, and Lesus--seemed stuck in. The civilians looked around in surprise, clearly wondering why they were outside the shelter, before pandemonium broke out as they saw the injured and dead people.

“Papa! Papa!” One little boy yelled as he tugged at a groaning man. “Nooooooooooo!” Another screamed as she dashed towards a broken body. “Patricia!” One man ran back towards the shelter, face ashen with fear. The others ran towards bodies or milled around in uncertainty. Where to go now? The shelter was broken and they couldn’t run with the wounded.

“Everyone!” The Lindelans turned at the shout. Grisia stood before them with hands outspread. “I know we’re all worried, but standing here won’t help us. Let’s bandage the wounded and then find another shelter. I know somewhere safe we can go. My companions,” he gestured at the three armed men by him, “will guard us as we travel. But we must stay as a group and stay orderly.”

As the crowd turned to do as instructed, the blond man turned to the others. “I’ll go help heal the most injured. Cricket, Roland, can we fashion some stretchers for the most wounded? Lesus, keep a lookout for any Sinners approaching us.”

“But where are we headed?” Cricket muttered, careful to keep from being overheard. “All the other shelters are probably full or sealed by now.”

“The Golden Sun. We can better defend ourselves from there than out in the open.”

The purple-haired Knight eyed Grisia’s predatory smile in alarm. He had stumbled across Adair’s brothers while heading towards the elevator shaft. Apparently the three men had been out for lunch when the attack had started. Since then, they’d just been wandering around taking down Sinners and Pure Sinners whenever the opportunity arose. He’d always heard, second-hand, that the three were strong and Adair was a testament of their tutelage, but he’d never witnessed just how strong until now. He could easily bet that they’d give most Pristine Knight squads a run for their money despite the numerical odds. Now, the loan shark-esque grin warned him that Adair’s ruthlessness might have been a family trait rather than a one-off personality quirk. Cricket nodded and moved off to do as bade. he had a feeling any Sinners stupid enough to attack the Golden Sun would meet a vicious end.

(The gleeful gaze on his back told him the Sinners might not have a choice in attacking the house, given the unintended effects of Light’s Blessing.)

Thump. Thump. Thump. His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud as he ran through the empty streets of District Thirty Two. Most of the civilians had fled or found shelter by now and only the desperate or Knights were still in the streets. And Sinners. There were plenty of Sinners as well. He’d already taken down two although the last had gotten him separated from his group.

Thump. Thump. Squelch. Dietrich almost tripped as his foot gave out from under him and he scrambled for purchase, arms flailing for balance. Stable once more, he looked down to see the cobblestones was unusually red. His throat convulsed instinctively. No. . . No it wasn’t. . . There was another squelch, not from his feet, and he slowly looked up. A short-haired brunette in a navy blue, militaristic outfit strode towards him. An amused smile played on her lips, doing nothing to hide the sadistic pleasure in her red eyes. A red tongue slipped out to lick at bloody fingers.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. His sword clattered uselessly at his feet but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his heart beat in his ears. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Someone was screaming. He lifted his hands in front of him in a panic-stricken but futile attempt to ward off the incoming spectre. Red eyes gleamed. Red eyes glowed. Red eyes—

Hooves pounded against the crushed pavement that passed for a road in the outskirts of District Eighteen. Unlike in the other districts, the derelict buildings were not a result of this unexpected attack. These wreckages had existed long before today. Even human stubbornness had to bend before the intractability of Nature; Nature had clearly wanted this plot of land and after two years of futile struggle, Lindelans had ceded the area. Eight years of unchecked growth had crumbled the once pristine buildings. Trees yawned from the houses they’d occupied while trailing vines crushed stone walls.

Blue eyes surveyed the area he was galloping through in search of clues. Enough hints had littered his journey so far to give him hope: an unusual indent, a clean cut of a branch, splatters of dark grey liquid. A large group had come through this way and YunQiao had a suspicion it might be the Sinners currently attacking District Eighteen.

He felt a twinge of unease; he should be helping defend. However, the memory of an unusual stone arch--I’m guessing it’s some kind of door--gave him the resolve to keep riding. Yes, he should be helping defend. However, it was more important right now to make sure this invasion didn’t occur again. Given the diffusion of Sinners from the outskirts of the Island inwards, it was unlikely Eve or Lillith were teleporting the troops into Lindela. Why not just attack the most populated parts of Lindela? However they were coming on to the island was fixed and he had a feeling he was close to one.

YunQiao pulled on the reins of his horse, forcing it to slow to a halt as he looked around him. He’d seen no signs of passage in the last five minutes of riding. There must have been a turn that he’d missed somewhere. He turned his horse around and retraced his steps at a trot, vigilant once more for clues. Here. The black-haired Knight slid off his horse and tied it out of sight. Its presence would be enough to tip off others of his intrusion, but perhaps any returning Sin Creatures wouldn’t think to look at that alleyway. Back in the middle of the road, YunQiao looked around him cautiously. Here was where the marks first started. One of these six houses had to host the origin.

Closing his eyes, YunQiao tried to sense for the stone arch but he felt nothing unusual. With a huff of exasperation, he walked into the first house. Clearly, this was going to be an “on foot” operation. Six houses later, an annoyed Pristine Knight stood in the same spot, this time glaring at the offending buildings. Nothing. He’d sensed nothing and seen nothing. Maybe there really was nothing. Frustration welled up within him; Lights Above, he could have been helping defend! Who knew how many were injured because he’d taken a joy ride through District Eighteen!

A frustrated hiss of air forced through clenched teeth was the only sign of frustration he allowed himself to indulge in, at least until he got back to his horse to find it gone. He slammed angry palms against the wall beside him and stomped off after the hoofprints. Half a street and a corner later, he found the butt of his horse sticking out of the ground. The rest of the culprit was happily munching on some greenery that had sprouted in. . .

Blue eyes widened in revelation. The usually dignified Knight spun around and sprinted back to the suspect houses. This time, the second one resulted in success. A stone arch, its runes glowing a faint blue, stood in the center of the basement. The presence of magic lingered in the air like white noise. It didn’t seem active but it didn’t seem inactive either. He contemplated testing it before quickly discarding that stupid idea. If this really was the source of the Sinners, throwing something in might just tip off whoever was on the other side that the portal had been discovered. Should he bring Captain here? She might know what to do better than him. But who knew where Captain was--still on Gless? Could he really leave it active for more Sinners to come through? More importantly, how could he destroy it?

A yawn interrupted his thoughts and he rubbed at drowsy eyes. Maybe he could do this later? A nap sounded good right now. The absurdity of such a thought--sleeping during an attack on Lindela--shocked him into wakefulness. Prayer flared around him in a reflexive reaction and his lethargy fled. He threw himself to the side, hindered by the leaden blocks his feet had become. He forced his unresponsive body into a defensive crouch as he looked around him warily. One hand held a handkerchief to his mouth to filter out the air. Blue eyes strained to see in the half shadows of the basement despite the darkness tinting the edges of his vision. He forced air in through the window and solidified it into a shield; there was a clatter of throwing needles dropping to the floor as his spell disrupted their trajectories.

“Illumination!” An orb of light winked into existence like a miniature sun, revealing a golden eyed brunette. The horns protruding from the dark curls broke any pretense of humanity though the demon hadn’t tried hard, not like the other four he’d met so far. The unknown demon sported a distinctly displeased face at being revealed. The cloak she wore rustled and YunQiao dashed for the exit. He had to skid to a halt when an eruption of fire bloomed in front of him. Clearly the demon didn’t want him leaving. The door had to be the portal as he suspected.

Anrui frowned at the Knight in front of her. Why was he here? They had chosen remote places to set up the tunnels precisely to avoid situations like this. She fingered the vials strapped to her belt, reminders that she was more than capable of taking down a lone Immaculate. Her sleeping gas had almost worked until he’d somehow snapped awake. Her fingers stopped on a few vials and she extracted them with ease. As long as he was strapped in here, it would just be a matter of time before her poisons overpowered him.

“Swords of revealing light.” Glowing blue eyes surveyed the swarms of Sinners, Pure Sinners, and Reapers rushing over the wreckage of District Twenty Eight’s outer walls. A remnant from the Pure, the wall had been a bulwark against Sin’s forces during the First War. However, a decade of neglect had weakened the structure till it finally toppled today. Her Heaven’s Judgment blades reappeared and vanished all over the battlefield, leaving mimicries of themselves behind. Each blade of light trapped the Sin creature it touched, holding it in place as if applying the chains of Penance.

When the majority of the battlefield had been trapped, Lethe beckoned to the Knights beside her. The squad of Knights lifted their voices as they released the spells they had prepared. Earth, Fire, and Lightning enveloped the trapped figures and when their effects faded, only corpses remained. A ragged cheer erupted from the weary Knights and a pleased smile made its way to Lethe’s lips at the sound. The troops sounded heartened once more.

“Stop the Sinners if they come through here but remember that the civilians are the highest priority.” Blue eyes surveyed the wrecked district around her but didn’t let her emotions show. Displeasure wouldn’t help right now. “Keep up” Her attention snapped towards the right and she spun at the sudden wave of holy light. She knew that spell. “Fire a flare if you need me.” Lethe snapped out before she vanished in the direction of District Eighteen.

Two hops later and she re-emerged on top of a row of destroyed houses. A frown furrowed her brow as she realized this was one of the abandoned portions of District Eighteen. What was Lady QianHua doing here? It took a moment to access the divine realm and she saw a splotch of inky black. It wasn’t as dark as Victorie or Lillith but still more substantial than a Sinner. She reappeared by the Sin creature and spotted it thrusting a hand towards--

“YunQiao!” She blocked the attack with her keyblades as she ran towards the demon. Common sense dictated not rushing an unknown enemy blindly; common sense had little importance compared to the safety of her family.

Anrui jumped away from the glowing sword aiming for her stomach, only her instantaneous response to the shout having saved her. She had recognized the Seraph with a glance and had abandoned her post that instant in case the Seraph decided to attack. A hasty wall of vines obstructed her from view long enough to rush away from the angry Seraph’s follow up attack. She was desperately outclassed here. Her forte had never been direct combat anyways. She clawed at the poisons by her hip and threw them haphazardly towards the two Knights, retreating in the mix of vapors. The Seraph would probably stop chasing her when she realized the other Knight was suffering.

Ducking into the abandoned house, Anrui ran through the portal before sealing it closed. She didn’t want the Seraph following her here. The demon sighed in relief now she was in the safety of the Barrens. She should have defeated the first Knight faster rather than relying on her poisons. A growl escaped her throat at her own chastisement; now she had neither Knight nor portal. But she did still have her life so perhaps that would have to be enough consolation. Looking around, Anrui spotted another portal connecting to Lindela. This time, she resolved, she’d stay inconspicuous.

Lethe let the glow in her hands fade as the last of YunQiao’s wounds faded away. Her squadmate was unconscious and she had no idea why he was in the middle of nowhere. With a grunt of exertion, she folded him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Now what to do with him.. She didn’t want to try teleporting with him but there was no way she was leaving him out here. She needed to put him someplace safe until he woke up, not that there were many of such places. With a weary sigh, the Seraph started walking towards the center of the island. She hoped there’d be something there at least.

“Stay behind me..” Marielle ordered with only the faintest tremble in her voice. Annabelle clung to her waist, a reminder of what was at stake. Brown eyes stared determinedly at the Sinners wrecking havoc on the street. They hadn’t noticed her yet, hidden in the small alcove, but she had no doubt eventually they would. Destroying empty market stalls could only be interesting for so long.

One hand gripped the spare Faith Valiar had gifted her when he’d first rejoined the Pristine Knight Corps. It had accompanied her through the endless nights she’d lain awake, dreading he’d never come home; now it was her only defense to keeping her and her daughter safe. As she’d expected, the Sinners eventually realized no prey were hiding in the wooden stands and stalked away. They passed her hiding spot and for a moment hope welled within her. Would they not notice her?

Her joy was short lived. The last Sinner paused and backed up; a blue-grey head swung back and forth curiously before it turned in her direction. White eyes scanned her alcove before sharpening. She’d been spotted. The Sinner advanced towards her; a pleased smile crossed it inhumane face.

The blonde reached back with one hand, pushing her daughter further into the hiding spot. Her other hand gripped the cross-shaped necklace harder. Valiar… The Sinner had blocked off the entrance, clawed hands reaching out greedily, when Marielle screamed in defiance. She pulled back her arm and threw the Faith as hard as she could. She refused to let it win without a fight!

The Sinner screamed as the Light-infused trinket smacked its face. It reared back in shock.

Marielle grabbed Annabelle’s hand, slammed her shoulder into the Sinner, and ran out of the alleyway. The commotion had garnered the other Sinners’ attentions and they had turned in her direction, already starting to gallop towards her.

“Run Annabelle!” She shouted as she released her daughter’s hand, pushing the girl in the opposite direction. She could only pray Annabelle would live. The defiant mother spun to face the charging Sinners when there was a blur of grey. A swarm of identical men appeared around the Sinners and the next thing she knew, all of them had collapsed to the ground, slaughtered. A familiar Knight appeared atop the corpses, katana resting comfortably on his shoulder. Cool, pale yellow eyes turned in her direction.

“Annabelle! Marielle!”

She spun around at the familiar voice, heart swelling at the sight of--”Valiar!” She shouted in joy as she ran towards her husband. Strong arms crushed around her and she returned the gesture, overcome with relief, gratitude, and the remnants of her fear. She was alive; Annabelle was alive; and they were safe now.

“Marielle,” Valiar repeated; his voice shook with his overwhelming relief. When he’d heard that first shout, his heart had almost stopped. Thank the Light for Deimos. Oh thank the Light indeed. The reminder of his squadmate had him looking up to catch sight of pale yellow eyes. The light blond Knight nodded his head to the unspoken gratitude and shrugged a shoulder to show no thanks was needed. Marielle was a part of Squad Lethe. It was his job to watch their backs. He turned away.

The oldest Knight reluctantly released his wife; the battle was still raging and despite her close encounter, he was still needed. Marielle was similarly unwilling to part but she too knew her husband’s duty. The two exchanged a look before they fully untangled.

“Come on, I’ll take you two to a shelter.”

Deimos silently reappeared from wherever he’d gone off to, one arm wrapped around Annabelle. He handed the young girl off to her mother and then took his normal position at the rear. With one last thankful look at his daughter, his wife, and his fellow Knight, Valiar turned to lead them to a safe place. Thank the Divine Light they were safe.

Lethe frowned at the retreating Sinner. That was the third such group of Sinners she’d seen running in that direction. The first time she’d seen them charging towards her, she’d assumed they’d spotted her and were attacking. The second group had been as oblivious to her presence as the first. They too had impaled themselves along her keyblades with nary a reaction. Twice might be coincidence but three times?

Blue eyes narrowed as she hid herself and the still unconscious YunQiao in an alleyway. She didn’t want to leave him alone but that left her few places she could check the situation from. Heaven’s Blessing blossomed in her eyes and she looked over the divine realm critically. Multiple sinners were congregating towards the border of District Twenty Six and Twenty Seven where a strong concentration of divine magic was residing. The Golden Sun was located there: Grisia perhaps? With a blink of an eye, the divine realm faded from her sight. Or, she considered as a Pure Sinner ambled by in the direction of the Golden Sun, perhaps another member of her squad who Sin creatures seemed oddly fond of when he tapped his Light’s Blessing. A bolt of Banish finished the absent minded Pure Sinner and then Lethe resumed her walk, this time heading towards her Vice Captain’s home.

“Get back!” Adair shouted angrily, his fury channeling through the aura around him. The disobedient Knight collapsed to a stop as legs gave way under the sudden swell of displeasure. “Get back! Get back!” The Knight struggled to obey but his legs were still frozen. The remaining Knights, still lingering despite his order for them to leave, hastily casted Banishes and Penances to distract the roaring--Adair wasn’t even sure what to call it--Sin thing as Adair ran forward to grab the struggling Knight.

The two retreated out of the thing’s range as it screamed its defiance. There was a panicked yell and then the ominous whistle of scythe through air that sent all defenders ducking. There was the sickening sound of flesh being bisected: another Knight had died.

“All of you, retreat!” Adair ordered again in the distraught silence, raising his voice to be heard over the Sin Creature’s crowing. “Now!” He pushed the idiot he’d saved away and ran back to fight the Sin thing. It had the height of a Pure Sinner, a bulkiness similar to--but even more exaggerated than--a normal Sinner, and it had the same resistance to holy magic Reapers had.

Adair would have groaned if he could; as it was, he was too busy dodging a punch to spare time for such frivolities. Lights Above, how was he going to stop this thing? He caught another punch on his shield and felt his entire body groan at the strain. Even with Light’s Blessing to reinforce him, there was no way he could keep allowing these hits. He was just lucky he could even block them; he’d already seen at least three Knights die from taking a hit by the thing.

He pulled his divine magic closely around him, forming a shroud similar to Master Guilford’s Providence. Now that the others were gone, he didn’t need to extend the Blessing to boost their morale. He deflected the next hit and snaked his sword out to disembowel the creature. However, due to its height, he hit leg instead of the more vulnerable innards. Nonetheless, he still slid the sword along the length of the thigh before he was forced away. Thank the Light it still felt pain at least. Even if the creature regenerated from the wound, which it had done to every other injury so far, there had to be some effect of harming it. Perhaps its magic would run out or the body would eventually be unable to cope with all the wounds.

In the creature’s moment of pained roaring, the Vice Captain of Squad Ten looked around him. The neighborhood was devoid of people. His gaze stopped on a bloody arm, the rest of its body hidden in the rubble that had fell on it, and he grimaced. It was devoid of living people, at least. heavy footsteps alerted his wandering mind that the creature was resuming its attacks. He dodged out of the way, slammed a Banish-coated hilt into the creature’s arm, and ran further into the cul de sac. He couldn’t let it leave here. One house, tottering dangerously towards the left, caught his attention as did a bent fence up ahead. Its upper half was now bent, angled threateningly at any intruders, daring them to charge forward. The bottom was partially uprooted, enough so to create a small hole.

Adair looked back to check on the creature; it was still chasing him. He turned to run towards the fence and the creature followed obligingly. Close, closer, he dropped and slid through the hole at the bottom, metal wining angrily as the fence protested his armor’s passage. A spray of blood covered him on the other side. He swiped at it in disgust, shaking his head to release the liquid and try to hear where his opponent was as he tried to clear his vision. There was another wet cough before more liquid fell on his head. The now drenched Knight backed away. Vision cleared once more, he saw that his plan had worked. The creature had impaled itself on the fence’s tines. Shaking away stray droplets (the creature’s blood, he realized with disgust), Adair lifted his sword to behead the thing. He sharpened his blade with divine magic, lined it up above the thing’s neck, and brought it down quickly. Executions were about precision. At the last minute, the thing wrenched away, pulling the fence out of the ground with its sudden jerking. His sword bounced against the creature’s neck, cut a long gash, and then went flying as the bottom of the fence slammed into its wielder.

Adair scrambled back to his feet once he regained his bearings, scurrying forwards to pick up his sword. The thing still wasn’t dead despite its half severed head! Instead, it was making a ruckus as it pulled the fence out of it. In front of incredulous eyes, the wounds started healing once more.

Was the Light serious?! He knew the Light didn’t ask more than its followers could give but wasn’t this a bit ridiculous?! A Sin creature that didn’t die even after being partially decapitated?! He was ready to start spitting blood, both literally and figuratively! After a mental smackdown of the Divine Light, Grisia’s younger brother turned his attention back to the unknown Sin creature. It seemed to be healthy once more and was looking for another victim. With a silent roar of anger at the Divine Light (why was it him in these situations?!), the Knight threw a blast of Banish at the his opponent. When burning white eyes focused on him, Adair blasted the thing again and then moved backwards cautiously. As expected, it gave chase and he began the game of Keep Away once more.

They’d run through the neighborhood once when a glancing blow sent the Knight sprawling. He landed painfully against the wall. His shield expanded in time to block the kicks that rained down on him. Each strike forced his already sore body backwards and he could feel everything trembling. Pebbles crumbled and he shook the dust from his sweaty hair. He braced a hand against the wall behind him, just to feel it give way. Wide green eyes glanced behind him to see that yes, his hand had pushed the brick back. In fact, the entire wall--his gaze swept upwards and around, temporarily forgetting the creature kicking at him--was shuddering with each blow. He could see the roof ominously creeping into his vision. A shout of pain was forced from his lips as his shield slammed into his shin. His inattention had caused the aura around his shield to weaken. Teeth bared, Adair slammed his palm against the base of the wall. The chains of Penance sprung into existence along the wall and contracted just as another kick connected. Between the double assault, the wall ceded and a rain of bricks fell onto the two of them.

Four self-satisfied sighs came from the weary Knights as all collapsed against the Port’s benches. They had been running around all afternoon subduing Sinners and were feeling the effects of such exertions. One leaned back on his arms, gaze unconsciously looking for the Knight who had led them all day. “I can’t believe he’s not tired..” He muttered in disbelief, catching his companions’ attention.

“Who?”

“The Captain.” A nod pointed out the brown-haired Knight’s position. Somehow they still didn’t know his name, but he was undoubtedly The Captain now. The Captain was speaking with Captain Kobayashi but despite their accomplishments today, The Captain still looked severe.

“You said Master Guilford is in the center of Lindela then?”

“Yes, District Sixteen I believe it was,” Kobayashi confirmed. His district, and the two surrounding ones, were all safe for now and it was in no small part due to the man beside him. He looked at the younger man in admiration. So this was a Knight Commander of Palaugrim! It was no wonder then that the Light had maintained its presence on Palaugrim. If anything, he was surprised they hadn’t reclaimed the island earlier!

“Alright. I’ll head that way to report in then. Will you be okay here?” Romauld turned his attention back to the older Knight Captain and received another confident nod. “Thank you for your men’s assistance this afternoon. May the Divine Light guide you and keep you safe.” With those parting words, the brown-haired Knight started jogging towards the exit before Kobayashi could even formulate a response. He was going? Wasn’t the Knight Commander tired? After a moment of disbelief, Kobayashi could only shake his head again. What a waste to keep Knight Commander Romauld in Gless!

Adair groaned in pain as he exhumed himself from the pile of bricks. He turned his head to look at the rubble around him and groaned again. Given how it’d lived through a partial decapitation, he doubted the house collapsing on them would have killed it. With a third pained groan, he hauled himself to his feet. Healing magic gathered around his body even as he forced himself towards the middle of the road. He’d already used the fence, the decorative pond, the almost--now completely--broken house, and way too many tripwires. What else could he do to keep the thing busy? So far his only saving grace had been the thing’s stupidity. Instead of giving up like a rational enemy, it kept chasing after him. It was good for keeping the thing busy but there was only so much more abuse he could take.

He eyed the empty road speculatively. If he could keep the thing contained somehow, he’d be able to kill it. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t know the first thing about seals besides that they existed and were useful. He rubbed a weary hand over his forehead, wishing Lethe or YunQiao were here. Honestly, he wished any of his squad were here. He might even take Team Prissy or the Crests at this point in time. For a moment, he just stared down at his battered body, his frustration at not being able to take the thing down once and for all sour in his mouth. However, before he could despair any longer, there was an ominous shifting of bricks behind him. It was starting to recover again. Adair closed his eyes, shook his head, and then looked over the neighborhood once more. There had to be something else he could use.

“Be careful,” Leon warned, his attention focused on the roof Seraphim was very carefully lifting. “That thing is about a tap away from crumbling.” The pink-haired woman grumbled in response but heeded his directions. A gap appeared in the rubble and a sobbing teenager crawled out. She turned around to reach for the child being handed out to her and then moved out of the way so the last presence--it looked like her father--could come out. Leon scanned the rubble once more but could feel no other presences. “Alright, we’re clear.”

A boom! accompanied his words as Seraphim let the roof fall back to the ground. As warned, it crumbled under the sudden impact. The blond haired Knight shot an annoyed look at his partner but the woman was unaffected. “They’ll still need a roof.” Leon pointed out with a touch of reproof.

Seraphim rolled her shoulders back and lolled her head from side to side in response, loosening the muscles after the previous strain. “I doubt they want one that will collapse from a friendly tap.” She retorted without any heat. Her head rolled back to the front and she looked around curiously. “Anyone else?”

The scene below was a beehive of activity. Fellow Knights, scouts, and even some civilians were clearing out rubble and searching for any survivors. After hours of fighting, it seemed the battle was finally coming to an end. Personally she thought it was a bit early to be doing rescue operations but apparently those were Guilford’s orders so who was she to contradict? Lethe hadn’t said anything to the contrary and she couldn’t see any other Sinners around. There was the chance the outskirts needed help, but she hadn’t heard any new orders and Lethe was out there anyways.

“Nothing that they can’t take care of.” Leon acknowledged with a nod of his head towards the rescuers below. With her Light’s Blessing active, Seraphim had near superhuman strength, which made her the perfect pack mule. “Next street then?”

“Sure.” Leon glanced at his unusually subdued squadmate. Normally the woman was more of a chatterbox, rivalling him and Cricket for chattiness. This entire afternoon she’d been sparse with her words. “. . . Is everything okay?”

A frown was his only response.

Except there wasn’t. Adair stumbled to the side as a shower of wood erupted around him, gasping for breath over the pain in the left side of his body. His arm was numb and his fingers were refusing to respond to his commands to flex. Every house but this one was now destroyed, sacrifices in his attempt to keep the creature engaged. He had thought the blows were getting heavier but had dismissed it as an effect of his weariness. Now--green eyes looked around dully as the creature hauled him into the air--he was certain. The thing was still getting stronger. His body convulsed as another chair slammed into him and then another. Why did this person have a eight person dining table anyways, he wondered dully as each chair was broken against him. As if now bored by the lack of response, the creature snarled and then threw him in the corner where all the other bodies seemed to have ended up. He studied the dead face beside him idly. Even if he wanted to do anything more, there was nothing he could do. He’d played punching bag to this creature for over two hours. He’d used every new technique Roland had showed him, every skill Lesus had shown him, and even some tricks he’d seen Grisia use in the past to kill the thing. No luck. That damn creature was still stomping around.

He sighed, the darkness in his vision creeping ever closer to dominating his sight. He just couldn’t do it. Lethe would have to take care of that thing. With that thought, he succumbed to the darkness.

A moment later, his brows furrowed. . . .Wasn’t it kind of lame that he was making Lethe take care of it? His eyes reluctantly opened and he stared at the sightless eyes opposite him.

He fell backwards, hands clutching his forehead protectively. Green eyes glared up at his older brother as he rubbed at the red dot undoubtedly forming there.

Black eyes sparkled in amusement as Lesus checked, “Not dead yet?”

“Of course not!” He protested, picking up his wooden sword and charging the other man. “Yaah!”

The memory had him pushing himself into a sitting position. He ran a hand through his hair then grimaced as he realized he’d just spread old blood through it. No, not dead yet. He braced his feet under him and stood once more. He gingerly walked across the room and picked up his sword. Not dead yet. He stared at his distorted reflection; he looked like a mess. His armor was covered in dents and scratches. His skin was either bruising or blood covered. His shield hung limply on his left arm, which he now realized he could still barely feel. His head tilted down to look at this shield.

“You know what Lesus likes to say, the best defense is a strong offense.” Roland smiled at him as he introduced the younger man to the ground.

Adair tried to lift the shield but it barely budged. Time to see if Lesus was right, he guessed. Setting aside his sword, he unbuckled the shield from his arm and placed it on the dining room table. It had somehow been spared the same fate as its chairs. He tried flexing his hand once more and a shiver ran down his body as tingling broke out over his arm. He forced his hand into a fist and then loosened. Alright then. No shield, only a sword, and not dead yet.

Well, things could have been worse.

Compared to the chaos of the streets, the hooded figure walking sedately through the rubble was a clear anomaly. A golden eye peeked out from under the heavy fabric and swept the surroundings in search of company. There was none. With a pleased smile, Anrui removed one of the vials from her pouch. A twist of the hand released the cap and the demon poured its shimmering contents into one of the wells. She peered into the depths and waited until all traces of her addition dissipated, its contents diluted into the water below. That was fine. Though it may not be visible, its potency wouldn’t be impacted.

She capped the vial once more and tucked it away. Three more vials remained. The demon turned to look at the elevator shaft that loomed in the distance; even now, a shuttle was shooting up towards the island above, no doubt to gather more reinforcements. It was a pity she couldn’t sneak onto that. Spreading her concoction into Gless would have undoubtedly earned her more of Master Amon’s praise. A shiver of delight passed through her body at the thought before she forced herself back into the present. She continued her walk through the mostly deserted streets. By now, the sun was starting to set in the distance. The attack on Lindela had been raging for nearly three hours now. Soon, she would return to her ‘troops’ and oversee what few remained. The Sinners and Pure Sinners she’d leave here. If they were so valuable to the God of Sin, he could arrange for their retrieval. Master Amon had only expressed interest in the Reapers, so she would ensure their return.

“Ha-hah-choo!” Anrui paused at the faint sound, her ears turning to better catch the sound. She could hear a quiet shushing and the brush of cloth on wood as whoever was hiding fidgeted in fear. There was another muffled sneeze before all fell deadthly silent. A cruel smile lifted her lips and she continued walking once more as if ignorant to the victims hiding in the house two buildings behind her. She wouldn’t kill them like they no doubt feared. Her fingers caressed the vials in her pouch, the results of her research and Master Amon’s ‘present’ to the God of Sin. No, she would let them be useful instead of ending their miserable existences right now. After all, they were already soon to be dead anyways.

Being able to make clones was awesome, Deimos concluded to himself. It would have been better if he could learn what his clones learned, but it could have been worse--it could have been Cricket’s skill. The memory of his teammate screaming at the top of his lungs while running for his life from a horde of Sinners had the corner of his lips twitching. The spark of amusement was a welcome change from the apathy of the afternoon. His almost tranquility was interrupted by lumbering steps drawing closer. The yellow-haired knight paused.

Odd, the steps were too heavy to be any creature he knew of. Reapers tended to glide, Pure Sinners had more of a clicking noise in their gait, and Sinners were characterized by their distinct two-beat rhythm. These steps definitely sounded bipedal--perhaps it was a heavily armored Knight? Deimos hesitated but he knew of no Knight who would wear so much armor to have such a thumping stride. His katana, still pink from imprecise cleanings this afternoon, slipped free and into a guard position.

His caution proved well founded when a giant turned onto his street. White eyes narrowed on him as the thing opened its mouth in an unfriendly growl. Despite the aggressive sound, it advanced no faster than before, giving the Knight time to assess his opponent. It definitely wasn’t human yet somehow it had evaded everyone’s notice, as evident by the lack of injuries on it. How in the Light had no other Knight seen this thing earlier? It was hardly being discreet.

His katana twitched in anticipation and then he was on the other side of the thing, weapon swinging carelessly through the air as he shook the blood off it. That was--his self congratulations halted when there was no telltale topple of a body. He turned to look but vanished when a hand swept through the space he used to occupy. A surprised Deimos watched the house opposite his perch shudder as the creature’s palm slammed into it.

How was the thing not dead? Yellow eyes slid over to his opponent to see unblemished flesh. Had he..? No, there was no way he had missed. His keen eyes could still see the flecks of blood he’d flicked off his blade. His head cocked to one side thoughtfully before he attacked once more.

This time he went slower, aiming to hit deeper. His sword carved arcs through the thing’s arms before he retreated to another rooftop. Blood splattered in the air as the thing slammed against one house then another in clear anger. However, in less than a few minutes, its arms were healed once more.

At least now he knew how no other Knight had seen it earlier; whomever had confronted it were probably dead or had fled. Deimos considered the wisdom of such a course of action. He had no particular inclination for death and it didn’t look like his attacks were doing much. Someone else made his decision for him. A white-shrouded figure slammed into the creature, toppling it over.

“Kill it!” A vaguely familiar voice shouted and Deimos hastened to comply, conditioned to listen when a voice held that much authority. When Lethe said to jump with that sort of voice, all of Squad Ten started jumping. Unfortunately, she had knocked the thing down so he couldn't simply decapitate it. Instead, he slammed his katana into the thing’s chest and then yanked it up in an arc to slice through its heart.

“Good job.” Not Lethe congratulated, turning to reveal itself as Romauld. “That should--” His words were cut off by an explosion of Sin that knocked both Knights back. When both were back on their feet, so was the unknown Sin creature. Deimos shifted uncomfortably; that fleeing option was sounding better and better now. There was a line between courage and stupidity and he didn’t plan to cross into the latter.

Adair had just reached the river that bordered District Seven when he spotted his foe engaged in a battle with Deimos and Knight Commander Romauld. ‘Battle’ may have been a bit generous of a description; the two were clearly superior in skill as the creature had no finesse. It flailed like a brawling drunk in hopes a stray hit might stop the pain the two more experienced fighters were inflicting on it. Lethe’s Vice captain might have had sympathy if he didn’t know exactly how hard the thing hit. He winced in phantom pain as Romauld was taught a first hand lesson about the thing’s strength. The brunet was driven to his knees and there was a disturbing crack! as he hit the ground. The creature lifted its fist threateningly, ignoring the sudden flurry of strikes Deimos was landing on it.

A blast of Light’s Blessing shot out of Adair’s left hand as he ran into the fray. Light’s Blessing flared around him and the surge of courage he imbued into his comrades gave Romauld the strength needed to back away. The moment the Palaugrimian had collapsed out of the way, Adair immediately dulled the effects of his aura before Deimos grew any more reckless. Between his sword and Deimos’s, they were able to keep the creature occupied. However, even with the brief respite and his Light’s Blessing encouraging him, Adair could still feel exhaustion starting to creep in. How much longer could this battle of attrition last? The three Knights had been fighting all afternoon already and this thing still had about a decade of life force remaining he’d guess. Before critical eyes, a gut wound healed in record time. Its regeneration speed had definitely increased, which was in line with what he’d experienced throughout the past hours.

Lines of red appeared where Deimos struck; the yellow-haired Knight was sticking with his normal modus operandum of multiple precise wounds. Unfortunately, it was little help here. “Switch to high damage attacks.” Adair ordered as he chopped at an overextended arm. The sword bounced against bone and he sliced off the flesh along the forearm with uncharacteristic brutality. Despite the wound, the creature brought its arm down in a downward strike and Adair resisted his instinctive reaction to block. Instead, he forced himself to slip around the attack and step back to give his sword more space to maneuver in even as his body screamed to crowd further in to keep the creature immobile around his nonexistent shield.

Deimos must have expected him to distract the creature though as the rear guard was unprepared when it turned around and slammed a hand into him. A quick clone shoved him aside and probably saved him from another visit to a wall. Being slammed through a house had been enough introductions for him. With a hiss at the memory, and the dull aching it inspired in him, Deimos tumbled away from the creature and popped up in a defensive stance. The creature charged toward him and Deimos was forced to backtrack again. It lunged forward in surprising ferocity but instead of grabbing him, it fell to the ground with a loud thump!. Adair was revealed from behind its bulk and the blue armored Knight slammed his sword through the thing’s back. For good measure, he pulled his sword out, slammed it again into the unprotected lower back and then again into the thing’s neck.

“Thank the Light that’s over..” Romauld breathed in relief, his face still showing signs of strain. He was lucky he hadn’t broken his knees after being hit by that thing but he still pretty sure his leg bones had at least fractured. In the break Adair and Deimos had granted him, he’d been able to heal them enough to stand but a trip to a cleric was definitely a requirement later. From the way Deimos loosened his grip on his sword, the Rasovan Knight Commander could tell the other Knight shared his sentiment.

Vice Captain Adair, however, was still tense. “It’s not.” The younger man said, making his companions stiffen in wariness, “It should finish regenerating in a few minutes.” As if to prove his point, he stabbed the creature another time and it snarled in response. A hand lashed out and all three scrambled away to a safer distance. The creature laboriously climbed back to its feet, glowing white eyes glaring hatefully in their direction.

“****.” The Knight Commander wasn’t prone to swearing but there were some occasions where nothing else was appropriate. This was one of those occasions. So he hadn’t misjudged Deimos earlier. He had thought it odd that someone of Deimos’s caliber had missed piercing the heart when they’d first engaged the creature but there had been no other logical explanation for why the creature was still alive after a killing blow. Ridiculous regeneration that healed life-ending attacks hadn’t been factored into consideration. “Now what?”

Green eyes had been surveying the area when they narrowed in concentration. “Knight Commander,” Adair began offhandedly, “how long do you think you can solo that thing?”

‘Not as long as you want me to!’ Romauld snarled to himself bitterly as he dodged another attack from the creature. Hi bo staff poked out angrily then flicked upwards, knocking the thing’s head back. He channeled his vexation into the next steps of the kata as his bo and body flowed through the familiar motions: a slice, the four-point strike, low-strike, high strike, forward thrust. He kept his eyes focused on his opponent even though he wanted to check the distance again. He already knew the distance between his target and his current location; it was only nerves that made him doubt himself, made him seek reassurance. Nerves and perhaps a dose of fear, he admitted to himself. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. His legs were starting to go numb from the pain but he couldn’t weaken his stances for the sake of alleviating his pain. Doing so would only earn him a faster path to his grave.

He stumbled to the side as a glancing blow struck him and felt his arm go red-hot with pain. His wandering thoughts had made him react a second too slow. Gritting his teeth, he shoved away the pain and focused back in the present. He retreated into another kata to coax him another five steps forward despite the pain lingering in the back of his mind. The sound of rushing water was a welcome one. Pulling his staff back, Romauld gathered his Light’s Wrath and released it with the forward thrust. The creature went flying through the air, lifted off its feet by the burst of divine magic.

A scream of pain reverberated through the air as a sword the size of a man impaled itself through the thing’s chest. The thing fell into the river and thrashed to stay afloat. One hand grabbed at the sword lodged in its body before it slipped off. No, not just the hand had lost grip; its entire arm had detached itself from its body and floated away in the current. The creature roared again and reached for the sword with its other hand when that limb also severed itself.

Wide brown eyes stared at the spectacle in disbelief, failing to understand what was going on. Well, Romauld understood the basics of the plan--pin their enemy in the middle of the river where it would struggle to keep its balance--but he couldn’t figure out where the six foot sword had come from or why the thing kept losing its arms. He could see it regenerating the arms but they kept falling off before hands actually formed.

Someone came to stand by his side and he woodenly turned to see a grim Adair staring at the trapped creature. The younger man didn’t appear surprised at the spectacle and instead stood with arms hanging loosely by his sides. The tension from earlier had melted away and the man almost seemed at ease despite the cries of pain and desperation from the river.

Romauld took a deep breath, gathered himself, and turned back to face the dying creature. There was no way for it to escape between the sword in its chest and its mysteriously disappearing arms. Listening to the sounds of splashing mingled with screams, he could not help but grimace; enemy or not, he had never been the type to enjoy watching things suffer, not if he could help it. “I wish we could put it out of its misery.”

There was no reply, but Romauld could feel the unspoken assent from the man beside him. There was nothing that needed to be said. They were weak. Despite all their efforts, they were reduced to standing on the banks of a river, watching, praying that the creature would never find a way up onto the shore before its regeneration failed it. Romauld sighed even as he straightened, planting both feet firmly on the ground despite the pain in his legs. He had always striven to be the best there was, pushed himself to not just meet, but exceed, his duties. It was humbling to realize how little that had been worth. The two backs he chased still remained so very far away.

He forced himself to stare at the struggling creature, stubs of its partially regenerated arms floating away as grisly reminders of his helplessness. This was his failure --his weakness--that made it suffer such a gruesome death. It was his responsibility to acknowledge its death. He had no right to look away.

The two men stood side by side by the river as the sun set until only the sound of flowing water could be heard once more.

_________________

Alfrei dropped the swords he held just as soon as he finished off the last of the Reapers that tried to take his head. It was over, right? There wasn't any more of them coming, are there? He looked back wearily to the lot he had been desperately defending—wounded knights and civilians alike. These people were likely to be unfortunate enough to have not escaped in time and had he not found them, trapped between stone walls and certain death, they would have no doubt been added to the casualty count dreaded by every single knight out here. Emotions he had kept repressed began to stir at the thought. The casualty count was something he would rather not think about now, it was no question that it was probably high enough as it stands—the only prudent thing to do was to make sure it wouldn't rise any higher.

Graceless as it may look, the Vice Captain of Squad Eight dropped to his knees exhausted. The long hours of continual fighting, moving between adjacent districts, all the while leading incompetent knights had him reach and far surpass both his physical and magical limits long before he actually realized it. His eyes wandered across the devastation that laid bare before him. What was once a bustling district, now reduced to nothing more than a shattered shell of its former self. Could he call this a victory? Sure, he had successfully thwarted what looked like a massacre in the making, he took down Light-knows-how-many of the enemy forces in this District, and managed to save what many people that remained huddled together behind him! But why does this feel like such a crushing defeat? Why does his heart ache so? Before he knew it (and before he could do anything to stop it), he felt the wind coolly kiss the trails of tears that had shamelessly started to fall from his eyes.

"Sir Alfrei?"

The voice, though obviously sounded close to being dead, still held a certain air of urgency. The voice belonged to Knight Claudio, the one whom Alfrei had roughly introduced himself in the heat of battle. By then, Alfrei already knew that he had no time to entertain his thoughts, nor did he have the time to shed tears. With the back of his right hand, Alfrei wiped away any remnants of the sorrow he felt from his eyes. How much evidence of it was left there? He did not know. All he knew was that his attention was needed elsewhere other than his own—probably useless—thoughts. He was slow to get back to his feet, a cause for concern that didn't escape the eyes of the knight that called for him.

"Are you alright good sir?"

No. He wasn't alright—and the probability that anyone else would be alright after going through this experience... well, the answer should have been pretty obvious. He had wounds (lots of it) but they were superficial—they can be healed. His pain alone was nothing but an insignificant speck compared to what the Lindelans were experiencing now as a collective. When he finally turned to face the owner of the voice, Alfrei had already settled back to being the Vice Captain that he was.

"I'm fine Knight Claudio, thank you for your concern." a tempered response; it was a miracle his voice didn't crack. "More importantly," Alfrei's gaze finally met Knight Claudio's own, "I need a sit rep."

The knight stiffened at the command and saluted once before taking a breath in preparation for the exchange of words. "Firstly, in behalf of my squad," Claudio paused to look back at the few wounded knights mixed in with the civilian group before continuing, "or what's left of it... we thank you for your assistance. Had you not arrived in time, me and my men, along with these citizens would have met our fates here and now." he bowed gratefully as he continued, "From the bottom of our hearts, you have our gratitude."

"Raise your head, Knight Claudio. There is hardly any need to thank me." Alfrei responded, his tone falling one notch short of being icy. He was being appreciated for his efforts, normally he would feel a sense of achievement, but his heart contained nothing but sorrow. "What happened to District 30's defense?"

The weight behind the query seemed to have crashed down on Claudio, given away by the sudden darkening of his expression and the way he averted his gaze from Alfrei's eyes. "It is as you can see sir." his voice dropped a tone lower as he spoke, "We were overrun." Claudio summarized, hands tightening into fists as he did so. "Lady Karna—err.. I mean, Knight Commander Karna fought valiantly to hold the district, but was ultimately outmatched by the things you slew when they came."

Alfrei could see Knight Claudio's pain through his eyes, and he instantly recognized it. How could he not? The pain of losing a love was something he was all too familiar with. However, instead of trying for hollow words of comfort and encouragement, Alfrei deemed it appropriate to remain silent and just listen.

"Things were going our way as far as Sinners and Pure Sinners go—they were easy enough to deal with," the knight recounted his tale, "but things spiraled out of our control when these monsters started showing up." now he was gritting his teeth in anger, "They tore through our walls like it was made of paper, slaughtered anyone along their path, knight or civilian alike there was no distinction, just... absolute carnage!" Claudio's eyes flicked over to a dead Reaper, filled with spite towards the creature, "When Knight Commander Karna realized what was going on, it was already too late to order a retreat, and then..." the light in his eyes faded, alongside his voice.

By this time, Alfrei already knew that the next part was probably the most painful part for Knight Claudio to retell. He didn't have to; it was never easy. "It's alrig—"

"But then we realized what these Reapers were really up to." Claudio cut him off, "They went straight for the Civilian Shelters we had, tore down the gates and the next thing we knew, we were desperately fighting back while they went on with a killing spree... and we couldn't stop them! Lights above we couldn't stop them!"

Blood trickled down from the side of Claudio's lips, a testament to how pained the knight was at the experience. "...and they were counting—we could hear them as they slaughtered people left and right!"

The sorrow had left Alfrei's heart in an instant, only to be replaced by immeasurable anger. To think that the Reapers did all this for sport?! It was beyond forgiveness! If only he got here sooner! If only...

"Down to the last of our men, Knight Commander Karna's final order was to save as many as we possibly could—get them out of here while she tried to buy my unit some time." Claudio fell to his knees when the strength in his legs finally gave, and the man broke out in sobs of regret and anguish. "She valiantly kept those things at bay for as long as she possibly could, up to her final breath she fought honorably, until she fell in battle... and all I could do was watch her from afar... powerless to even do anything... I failed her! Damn it I failed her!"

"No." Alfrei said firmly, much to Claudio's surprise. "All things considered, you carried out her last order splendidly. Look behind you Knight Claudio, these are the people that owe their lives to the both of you, as well as every single knight of District 30 who fought bravely. Instead of blaming yourself and wallowing in self-pity," Alfrei turned his gaze to the few knights who have managed to survive, "stand up and get stronger! Enough so that the next time you stand on the battlefield, under the same conditions, all of you would have what it takes to stop tragedies like this from happening!" he said it loud and clear before turning back to Claudio, "You can hold your head high, you've made her proud, you've done well, and I am sure Lady Karna is smiling down upon you from the heavens."

After giving Claudio a pat on the shoulder, Alfrei turned to the rest of the survivors of District 30. "We have managed to set up safe zones in the island center. We best get a move on now while there's still light. I can't say for sure that the fighting is really over, but I'd rather not take chances. Gather your belongings and help those who can't move well—I would love to have all of you in those safe zones where we can better protect you than out here. We're moving in five minutes!"





"Hiyaah!"

One final swift and precise slash to the neck and the Reaper was no longer a threat. Just as soon as the headless body of the Reaper fell, Fiona began to heave huge gulps of air as she flicked Nirvana clean of Reaper blood before sheathing it back to its scabbard. By her count, that was the last one. Or was it? She had been fighting almost non stop that she had lost track of how many vile creatures had a taste of her blade. Her eyes widened at the sudden deafening roar of victory from the knights of District 22. It was the confirmation that she needed to finally acknowledge that the fighting was over, for this part of Lindela at least. The female knight's thoughts began to wander off towards the other districts. How were they faring so far?

"As to be expected from one belonging to Squad Eight."

The voice that spoke from behind her pulled Fiona back to the present. She eased her guard and slowly turned around, only to find this District's Knight Commander Belford, accompanied by two of his own knights, bowing their heads before her.

"We are in your debt...?"

"Fiona." she helpfully supplied.

"Ah, it is an honor to know your name, Lady Fiona, we are in your debt. Because of your impeccable timing, we were able to cut down our losses by a significant margin. For that, you have our deepest gratitude."

Was it good news? Was she supposed to feel relieved? It may have been by a significant margin as this Knight Commander phrased it but losses are still losses, and those losses were still lives forcefully snuffed out, people who have been robbed of their future. The disconsolate female knight turned away from Belford's gaze, tickling the man's curiosity.

"You seem displeased. Did I say something to offend you my lady knight?"

The question grabbed hold of Fiona's thoughts that were once again starting to drift. Perhaps she was just exhausted that she was finding this man's manner of speaking a tad bit irksome, even though she was used to such manner of speech from her lineage. "N-no, it's nothing." she immediately diffused the Knight Commander's attempt to prod. "It's just..." she paused, unsure if she should continue to speak her mind. Better not.

"Yes milady?"

"Think nothing of it Knight Commander Belford. Wishful thinking have no place on the battlefield."

The Knight Commander smiled a sorrowful one but understood the meaning behind her words. Even he had his wishful thoughts, that it would have been better to have no losses at all than to have to speak and sound proud about suffering minimal ones. All things considered, talk of casualty count was not an easy subject to discuss, no matter the circumstance. "Forgive me for being insensitive Lady Fiona. You must be tired. Please, feel free to take a break. I have absolute confidence that my men can handle it from here."

A break? That doesn't sound so bad, but was Knight Commander Belford truly this dense? How could he expect her, a member of Squad Eight, to slack off and take it easy? While the intention behind the suggestion meant no ill will, it came off more as an insult rather than concern. No, she would have to decline.

"I'm afraid I do not have that luxury—none of us do." her words were as sharp as her gaze that were now directed back at Belford.

The Knight Commander sighed, "Alas, your words ring true. I was just looki—"

"Yes I know Knight Commander, and I am grateful for your concern but there is so much more that still needs to be done. I will not rest until this body refuses to do my bidding."

Impressed by Fiona's resolve, Belford could only smile in admiration. "You inspire me Lady Fiona, not only by your grace in combat but with your chivalry as well. We are truly blessed to have a knight of your caliber among our ranks."

"You overpraise me Knight Commander Belford. I do not fight for recognition, nor do I crave praise and glory. I am simply doing what is within my power, nothing more and nothing less." she smiled dismissively. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to go tend to the wounded."

"But of course." the Knight Commander replied and moved aside, "It has been a pleasure exchanging thoughts with you, Lady Fiona. Let us do what we can for the people. I too shall not rest until this body refuses to move." he flashed a smile, one that was not returned. "May the Divine Light shine ever-brightly on our path."

"Yes... I'm sure we'll need it... now more than ever." Fiona's voice trailed off as she walked her way back to the District Center.





"Forward!" Georg roared at the troops he had taken command of, "Let the blade of your swords be the last thing these creatures lay their eyes on!"

District Three, another one of those Districts that would have fallen had Georg arrived too late. There were corpses everywhere, friend and foe alike. A gruesome sight—sickening to the core—and if the corpses were not enough to portray the bloodbath that transpired here, District Three's walls and streets had also been generously splashed with red almost everywhere one could look. Perhaps a sick artistic touch by a death god itself. Georg would not stand for it. These vile entities needed to be taught a lesson, one that he would be glad to teach for a price—their lives.

The small group of knights led by 'Berserker' Georg himself tirelessly hunted the remnants of District Three's attackers. While it became common knowledge that it was best to fight a Reaper when one had command over Divine Magic, Georg proved to be an exception. Together with his large judgment sword, he brought terror to the remnants of their enemy with his sheer brawn and ferocity, coupled with his once-again-awakened brilliant battle sense, honed through the numerous experiences he had accumulated since the First War, Georg had made it clear that he was certainly a force not to be carelessly trifled with.

With him at the front during their charge, the Reapers (despite being powerful creatures themselves) could do nothing but retreat, until the lot of them had finally been backed into a corner. Like a predator that had trapped its prey, Georg moved in for the kill, giving specific orders to the men he led to not join the fight. Their confusion at the order was washed away when Georg unleashed his fury upon the evil that mindlessly massacred innocents. A display of such brutal fighting style was not for the faint of heart. Even seasoned veterans found themselves cringing at what one could only describe as 'barbaric' strikes. It didn't take long for the battle to end, perhaps it was for the best that the Reapers had fallen beneath his feet so quickly.

The awed knights could only stand in silence as they watched Georg slowly lower his massive weapon. So this was the once famous 'Berserker'.

"W-well done Sir Georg!" one of the knights managed to muster enough courage to speak. "I-I-I think that's the last of them." he stuttered.

Georg suddenly snapped his gaze to the side upon hearing the words, catching a glimpse of his companions with his eyes that still looked like that of a crazed beast.

"B-but you sure took them down fast... without Divine Magic too! You're imp-impressive!"

Impressive? He did not have any intent to put on a show, nor did he plan on showing these knights a flashy fight. Brutal and efficient, that was what he was all about back in the day. Now that the God of Sin had returned, he needed his old self back if he wanted to survive the upcoming fights. This he had already made peace with when he first learned of its resurrection.

"B-but... don't you think you could have.. you know... exercised a little restraint or mercy for that lone Sinner in that last group?"

Georg's eyes sharpened even more at the remark. "Hmph!" he scoffed, keeping his gaze locked on his companions for a good minute before tearing it away himself to look at his handiwork. Surely, today was not a day where mercy for the enemy should be abundant.

"Spread out and look for survivors! The stench of death is starting to irritate me."

Their unit had already begun to disperse, but Georg was the last to move. In his current state, his senses were heightened more than they normally were. Right about now, he was certain he heard something to his west. Choosing to follow his instinct, Georg headed due west, until the sounds he heard slowly began to make sense. He could hear the sound of anger and hate, foretold by the grunts made from effort being exerted. He could also hear cries of pain from the loss of loved ones... and lastly, he could also hear the anguished groans from the one bearing all of that.

His strides quickened, turning left at the first corner street, then jogging the rest of the distance through an alleyway into a small clearing behind a house. He was right in his initial assumption. Before Georg's eyes, a group of civilian survivors were pounding away at a Sinner with sticks and stones, undoubtedly succeeding in breaking a few bones as they continued to lash at the helpless creature. He wanted to just stand there and watch, to allow these people to let off some steam, yet the oath he had sworn to won him over. As a knight, he needed to be the guiding light of these people, a role model, a beacon of hope and good if he were to put it eloquently.

There was no way he could let them stain their hands with blood, this much he already knew.

"Stop what you're doing now." he calmly spoke as he interrupted their manic outrage. He had observed enough to piece this particular puzzle together. This group was a family, mourning over the loss of a member—a child by the looks of it—possibly no older than ten years of age, though it was quite hard to tell from the mutilated heap lying in a pool of blood.

The grief stricken man froze at Georg's words, as well as the two younger boys he was together with. It took them a few seconds to turn and face him, only to reveal tear-filled eyes as they all did. From the looks of it, given how their hands were bleeding from self inflicted wounds by using such crude weapons, they've been at it for a while now but just couldn't land the killing blow. "Why?!" the head of the family spoke, "Why should we stop?!" he asked again, "This creature took away my son!" he pointed the thick wood he had been using to beat the crap out of the Sinner at the mess that Georg didn't have the heart to look at a second time. "Look at what it did to him! And you're telling me to stop?! How could I possibly stop?!" he yelled and turned around again, readying his arm for another crack at the Sinner. However, just as he was about to bring down his hand, he felt a tight grip that restrained him from any attempt to hit the Sinner.

Now that Georg had walked closer to them and restrained their father, the two young boys wizened up and let go of the rocks they held, backing away to their heartbroken mother who could only do nothing but cry. Whether it was out of fear or respect for his authority, he did not know, but he was grateful that he now only had the father to deal with. "I told you that's enough!" he warned again, tone firmer and a notch higher to demonstrate authority. "Let go of the wood. Doing this would not bring your son back."

The man deflated upon hearing his words, as if he was smacked in the face with the harsh reality. The knight was right, he would not get his son back by killing this Sinner, but he still wanted justice! He was just about to tighten his grip on the wood once more, only to realize that he had surrendered it to the knight before the thought of justice crossed his mind. With nothing else to channel his emotions into, the man turned to Georg, spite visible in his eyes that judged the knight as they scanned his person. "Where were you..." he sobbed, "Where were you knights when we needed you?!"

Moot point. The question was best not answered for Georg knew that no matter what he says, his words would provide no solace to the man's grief. It was what it was, they weren't there for him and his family in their time of need, and it was no secret that Knights were under oath to keep the people safe. This was but a failure on their part from a civilian's perspective, one that he would not agree to, or deny for the matter. "If you're looking to hear an excuse, you wouldn't get one."

"W-Wha...?"

Georg's eyes held the man's gaze strongly. "If you're looking to hear an apology, I also have none of that for you—just as I do not have words of comfort and empty promises all the same."

The man's expression softened into confusion, obviously not understanding the knight's point.

"All I could give you right now, are words of wisdom," he paused, making sure he had this man's attention before continuing, "Vengeance is bittersweet, and it does not come without consequences. It doesn't matter if it is for lofty ideals like justice or righteousness—the result is all the same; it changes you, sets you on a different path. Into what or where? I cannot say, but I know that the life you used to have will be no more, and you'll someday find yourself on that different path, wishing that you hadn't made such a choice."

It took a while for the man to respond, as if he took to heart Georg's words and pondered on them. The next thing he knew, he had torn his gaze away from Georg and laid them upon the Sinner that suffered his wrath earlier before this knight's intrusion. "Tch! So you're saying that I should forgive this creature? Fool myself to think that everything is going to be alright?!"

"No. I made no such request from you." Georg stepped closer, now standing side by side with the man, eyes locking on to the Sinner that looked as if it was begging for its death. "To say that I completely understand your pain would be a lie." Georg took a deep breath, "and to ask you to forgive right away would be stepping out of line. Healing takes time, that much I know." he tried to catch the man's gaze but to no avail, "I merely want you to remember what these Sinners really used to be, and to keep that in mind at all times. You have a life ahead of you, as does the rest of your family that survived. Do not throw that away for vengeance."

"I... understand..." his words rumbled from the depths of his being, straining himself as he forced the words out of his mouth.

"Good. As long as we're clear on the matter." Georg concluded his lecture, thankful that he could use reason with this man. With a quick motion, Georg scribbled a message on a piece of paper and whistled for his carrier pigeon. Moments later, the bird flew away in haste. His attention however, was diverted back to the man when he heard his voice once more.

"Are you going to save it? Because if you are, I only ask that you not do it in front of our eyes..." the man painfully pleaded.

Of course. Georg wasn't heartless to have to subject their family to such a sight after what they had been through. This Sinner took the life of one of their sons after all. "You have my word, citiz—"

"It's Thomas, my name is Thomas."

"Very well then Thomas, take the rest of your family out of here and head to District Eight. Just outside the alleyway I came from, you will find my knights already waiting for you and your family."

"What of..."

Georg didn't let Thomas finish. "I'll personally see through handling your young one's remains. I'll make sure he gets back to you once you have settled in District Eight. No parent should ever have to..." Georg opted not to finish his words. "Please, leave the rest to me."

Georg watched the family file out into the alleyway, and when nobody else was left but him and the Sinner, he turned his full attention to the creature. Surprisingly, it was still alive. He had been secretly hoping that it would have died on its own by now but its resilience was quite something. "You're surprisingly tough for a small fry." he said to the Sinner as its eyes looked at him in fear. "A shame, you probably would have become a wonderful knight had you made the right choices in your life." Georg continued on as he slowly pulled out his sword from his backside and pointed it at the Sinner, eyes sharpening into a menacing glare. "Do not judge me for this Sinner. To me, your sins have gone far beyond forgiveness when you attacked this island and slaughtered people. For killing this young one..." he trailed off and pulled his sword back.

"A swift death is all the mercy you will get from me." he added just before he delivered the final blow.

This time, even forgiveness had its limits.




The embers of battle had begun to dissipate as the forces of Light succeeded in defending their hometown, District Five. Despite overwhelming odds for having been an outer district, the knights that defended it gave it their all and more, never succumbing to despair, not once even thinking of surrender. Perhaps it was The Lion's ferocity rubbing off on the rest of the district knights when he took command, or perhaps it was simply just the will each knight had to keep fighting—nobody could tell. All that everyone who survived knew, was that they never gave up hope, put up a good fight, and that they stood strong in the face of defeat. They should relish the moment, take pride for having endured such a beating, and for ultimately coming out on top... yet all that could be heard from District Five was a deafening silence.

They were not the only district attacked.

Where they succeeded in defending District Five, others fell in the wake of this onslaught...

..and so the victorious feeling remained ever elusive.

Lance sat himself at the side of the main cobble road, his back rested on a wall (or what was left of it) from what was once a dining establishment. He was facing the District Center, eyes locked onto the crumbled establishment that used to be the district hall. A sad sight to see, that their symbol of strength at the center of the district, was reduced to nothing more than a pile of rubble. However, that was not what bothered the surviving knights the most. It was the knowledge that Vicar, their Knight Commander, the person supposed to be leading them to victory, had been slain in combat—and it was neither a beautiful death nor was it a meaningful one. Lance's own thoughts unconsciously drifted back to the memory.

At Knight Commander Vicar's demise, the morale of the knights suffered a devastating blow. With nobody to lead them, defeat ominously loomed above their heads. The chaos that engulfed the District seemed to have intensified in response to their peril, pushing the knights ever so closer to the doors of despair that eagerly welcomed them in. Despite that, even in the face of terror and carnage, torn between a choice of death or destruction, the knights still felt themselves blessed, for they had him; the one man that rose to the challenge. He never wavered, never showed weakness or hesitation, and more importantly, he never gave up hope.

Those who witnessed his valiant charge were inspired by his courage, and those who fought alongside him told tales of valor and unmatched skill. As he danced around the battlefield, not only did he take down a great many of the invaders, he also sparked hope in the hearts of those who were on the verge of giving up. Where one light succumbed to the darkness, another shined even brighter. The Lion had showed his true worth as a knight, his leadership, his strength—the reason why he was labeled another hero from the First War, and his comrades acknowledged them.

The sound of clinking armor headed his way drew Lance out of his brooding thoughts. The battle may have been over for District Five, but work had only just begun. Two knights approached Lance and stood a respectful conversational distance from him before they stiffened to a salute.

"Captain Lance, we have gathered all the surviving stragglers and wounded knights around the district and begun treatment as you ordered." one of the knights informed the resting knight.

Eyes never leaving the sight of their crumbled hall, Lance nodded in acknowledgment. "That's good. What of the shelters?"

There was a noticeable pause from the two knights before the other one continued with their report. "We've... lost four shelters.." he informed Lance, tone as grim as the news he carried.

Four shelters. That would easily mean hundreds of men, women, and children have lost their lives today because they couldn't effectively defend the District—a victorious loss if he were to put it to words. Lance hung his head low, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Damn it!" he lashed out, one hand curling to a fist and immediately struck the pavement. If only these knights were tougher, if only these knights didn't slack off like they did during peace time, if only... he breathed deep, stilling the swirling emotions he was beginning to lose grasp of. They did all that they possibly could, and this was the result of their efforts. It wouldn't be fair to look for anyone to blame.

"And the scouts?" Lance grumbled, head still sunk as he asked.

"No signs of enemies around District Five's perimeter sir, it's like they vanished without a trace."

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips. "Tch! Tell them to keep looking. A force as large as that couldn't simply come out of thin air. There has to be something that they used to get the jump on us."

"Yes sir, will do!" the knights acknowledged, "and uhhm... we have about fifteen squads, including the injured ones and yours, still intact sir."

Fifteen squads?! Out of fifty squads stationed in a district, only thirty percent survived?! Truly, this day never had any good news at all! Lance wanted to hit the pavement once more but refrained from doing so. These knights were looking up to him now and it wouldn't help their morale to see him getting bent over matters he no longer had any control over.

"I see. Have the squads fed, healed, and on standby. We're going to have ten squads escort the civilians from the remaining shelters over to District Eight. We've received word from them that Master Guilford and his squad had secured the center districts. The remaining five squads, mine included, would stay here on alert."

"As you command sir! Is there anything else?"

"There's nothing else for now. Dismissed."

Lance watched the two knights walk back to where they came from until they disappeared from his sights. Those two looked just as young as him when he first joined the knighthood. Such a young age and they were already risking their lives on the battlefield, where life was as cheap as a loose rock on the ground; it was a depressing thought. He then began to wonder what kind of life those two would have chosen to live if things were different. Would they be farmers? Blacksmiths? Tailors? Miners? Who knew? All that Lance understood was that it didn't matter for nothing has changed. This world was still under the threat of the God of Sin, and there really wasn't a clear future for many to look forward to.

"You look dead tired."

Preoccupied with his own thoughts, Lance failed to notice the approach of another knight until she spoke to him. Yulia was already standing to his right when he turned his head to look at her. She had with her two water bottles, offering one of them to him which he appreciatively took. He looked dead tired huh? Well, she didn't look any better than him at that.

"Yeah.. well.. Lunaria takes a lot out of me when I use it. I'll live though." he responded and took a quick gulp of water.

After their brief exchange of words, silence descended upon the two. The last time they spoke to each other was when she punched him in the face. Still, she didn't appear to be hostile now, which made Lance feel a little relieved. Yulia even took a seat beside him leaving only a little space between the two of them. However, the silence lingered on. Her eyes looked mellow but distant, gaze fixated on the same crumbled structure Lance had been staring at earlier. Looking at her, Lance couldn't help but wonder what kind of thoughts she was having now?

"What?"

The question caught him off-guard before he realized that he was staring at her. Lance felt silly. "Sorry.. uhh... you're not gonna punch me again are you? Coz I sure as hell can't take one right now." he tried for truth with a touch of humor.

She laughed a little; it worked, "No—I sure as hell can't throw one right now." she said, stretched the length of her legs on the side road and leaned her head on his shoulder. They were tired, too tired to keep moving around. "But I will kick your ass if you try anything funny." she warned the Lion but got no response. The silence went on for a good while.

"You were amazing..."

Once again Lance was caught off-guard, by the sudden praise this time. Not too long ago, she hated his guts and probably wanted to kill him, but now she was here, cuddled with him and giving him praise. Why the sudden change of heart? Just what exactly was going on in this woman's head? Lance could only wonder.

"I don't think I am." Lance responded solemnly, "If I was even half close to being amazing, things might have turned out differently," he paused, placing his gaze back on the ruined district hall. "for a lot of things..." he trailed off. Yes, the truly amazing knights were the ones who could make a difference, like those two. But him? He's not even close to their shadow... amazing was not him. "I just did everything that I could... and even then it wasn't enough."

Silence once again enveloped the two resting knights. Yulia's thoughts however, were that of his words.

When Knight Commander Vicar and his entire unit died before her eyes, she had already given up. Had it not been for Lance's trinket that fell out of her pocket, she never would have found new hope. Whether it was because she desperately wanted to live, or because deep down she truly believed in this man's ability, she did not know. All she knew was that she had already entrusted her life, as well as the lives of the knights she was fighting alongside with to this man, all before she even realized it. She rallied them to his side, and it was then and there that she saw firsthand how truly great her Captain really was, making her see the man in a completely new light. Just by watching this man desperately fight to protect the people and her fellow knights, was more than enough to douse the anger she felt towards him.

Had she forgiven him? No, not yet. However, she had found it in her heart to accept him.

For a lot of things, he said. Yulia looked up from his shoulder, only to catch a glimpse of the regret painted on Lance's face, as well as the deep sadness contained in his eyes. Somehow, the same sadness she saw him portray that night was in there somewhere. She laid her head back down. For some reason, it pained her to see him like this. In her entire knight career, even when she was shipped off to Palaugrim under Sigfried's command, this was her first time fighting in a desperate battle for survival. This was the time she truly understood what horrors knights have to face, what sacrifices they had to give, and all the pain that came with it. She wondered just how much pain this man went through, what sacrifices he had to give, and what horrors he had already faced in the past. Perhaps she would never know, perhaps he would rather not tell, but even so, she wanted to be there for him. For all the new horrors they would have to face, the sacrifices they still have to give, and through all the pain they have yet to feel, she wanted to be there, in his squad, together with this man.

"You give yourself far too little credit. We're alive because of you—this district never would have survived if you weren't here." she finally tried to console him, "All the other knights that survived have been talking. They are thankful to you, telling their own versions of how they saw you fight for them and the people. I'm also quite sure the people of District Five would be too..." she trailed off, snuggling closer to the man, "Just as I am... Captain."

"Yulia..." he ran out of words except for one, "Thanks.."

"Say... is my brother a great knight?"

Though it was a sudden change of topic, Lance smiled at her question. "Yes." he answered with absolute confidence, "Yes he was. He's one of the greatest I ever had the pleasure of working with." he answered truthfully.

"You know... I once told him I wanted to be a knight too, so that I could be with him always.." Yulia reminisced, "but he wouldn't let me. Instead, he made me a promise. He said: I'll make this a better world so that you don't have to be a knight, and we could always be together."

"I know. It's the very same promise I told you that I intended to keep." Lance confessed.

"Well, I'm a knight now, and my brother is gone.. that's two parts of that promise already broken."

"Yeah.. I guess there's that." Lance scratched his head, "Tell you what, I'm still here, and the first part of that promise has yet to be fulfilled," he pulled Yulia's chin up so he could look her in the eyes, "so I'll make you a new promise. As long as I have breath in me, I'll give everything I got to make this a better world.. for you, and everybody else."

There was an ample amount of quiet air between the two after he had made his vow, neither one tearing away from each others gaze. Yulia smiled, "Are you going to kiss me now? Because I remember telling you that I'd kick your ass if you tried anything funny." she giggled.

"Wha..? N-no! I'm not gonna do that!" a blushing Lance countered defensively.

"Good. Because I haven't forgiven you yet." Yulia giggled again before laying her head back on his shoulder, "I'll hold you to that promise, Lion Lance."

"Yeah.. I know you would. I won't let you down, and I won't run away anymore."

The sun had begun to set as the two continued to share a quiet moment together. For now, after such an ordeal, no matter how short, a moment of peace was something everybody deserved.

"Could you tell me more about my brother?"

"Of course. What do you wish to know about him?"

"Everything about him as a knight."





Twenty-four knights led by Natalia combed through the houses and establishments of District Fourteen. They were doing a thorough search, looking for survivors, wounded knights, as well as any stragglers from the enemy forces. While Vlad had taken charge of getting the people holed up in the shelters over to the center districts, Joaquim deemed it prudent for someone to make sure they haven't left anyone behind. While the fighting had already died out after Joaquim and Hyuga forced the enemies to retreat from this District, her two squad mates gave chase, looking to find clues as to how their enemies got through their defenses so easily. Trust Hyuga to notice things a few knights would spare the time or thought to in the midst of a heated battle.

"Nothing here!"

The message had been repeated several times amongst Natalia's knights. Although this was already the eighth area in the district that they searched, they have yet to find a single soul that survived the onslaught. Disheartening. Where life was once thriving, now only death remained.

"Tch!" Natalia clicked her tongue in disgust, "Fall in! We're moving on ahead!"

Each of the knights did one last check before regrouping and moving on. While these knights may have chosen not to say anything, Natalia could easily read what was going on through their minds; it was an easy telling given their hopeless eyes, that they were not expecting to find anyone alive. Not her though. If there's one thing she had learned from her Captain, it's to never give up hope. There has to be someone—anyone out here left alive, and they were going to find them.

She was just about to follow her knights when she heard a rustle, making the female knight freeze in her footsteps. It wasn't just a rustling sound made by the blowing wind, it was the sound of something else! Hope and fear welled inside her heart: hope that it was the single soul they've been searching for, and fear that it might just be another enemy straggler. She listened closer, trying to confirm if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but there was that sound again!

Bolting into action, Natalia broke formation and sped to her left, leaping over debris that lay scattered along her path. Cutting across the street, Natalia proceeded to the entrance of an alley, skidding to a stop before bursting into full sprint once more into the said alley. She had her holy whip drawn, magic gathered in her off-hand, and prayer surrounding her just in case. The sound intensified, becoming clearer and clearer as she drew closer. Now she could hear the sound of grunting, that meager voice that likely belonged to a youngster exerting effort to push or lift something. Natalia stopped at the alley's cross section, looking left and right before finally spotting the source of the sound.

Her heart broke at what she saw.

Not too far from her was a young girl, probably no older than five, pulling on the arms of what Natalia could only assume as the kid's dead parents. They had been slashed from the back, cuts deep enough to say that it had been a quick death, one that they gladly took in exchange for the life of this young one.

"Lady Natalia!" three knights called for her name as they caught up to her, acknowledged only by the raising of a hand from the female knight. Those newly arrived all turned their gazes to the direction where Natalia looked, and it didn't take longer than a second for their words to be blown away.

"Poor soul..." one of the knights mumbled, "We'll take ca—"

"No. Leave this to me." Natalia interjected, "Continue with your search. We'll meet at the district center in thirty."

The knights acknowledged her orders and left, while Natalia turned her gaze back at the child. The young one had not realized it yet, refused to accept that her parents were long gone. She was still there, trying her hardest to get them to stand up and move, all the while calling for them as she tugged and pulled. Each slow step Natalia took forward, reminded her of her own dark past, she was just like this when her own parents passed, but she had her brother to help her through it, but even he was taken away from her. She understood the pain this young soul still had to experience, the hardships that would no doubt come to her life after all of this, and one look was enough to say that the child didn't have the strength to endure... to survive.

Tears began to fall from Natalia's eyes as she refused to look away from this heart-wrenching scene. There was no doubt in her mind that this child would need a pillar of strength, someone to help her survive, to guide her to the Light just like what her Captain did for her when he came to her aid in her darkest time.

Yes, this child would need someone like that.

Natalia was just about to reach out for the child—who did not even pay her any attention—when her hand stopped midway. Could she do it? Could she be that pillar of strength? When she stopped to think about it, the God of Sin having been resurrected was still a major crisis they have yet to deal with. There's just no guarantee that she would survive through that ordeal! She wasn't as strong as her Captain, nor was she as skilled as any of the crests! Even then those guys admitted that their survival was questionable. How could she possibly think that she had what it takes to be this child's strength?! Natalia took a sharp breath as she steeled her shaken resolve. This wasn't a matter of can or can't, she just has to do it.

She would not leave this child alone, she would give her a future she could look forward to!

Surrounding herself in gentle Light, her hand that froze earlier finally moved forward and she took the child into her arms. Natalia hugged her tight, repeatedly whispering to the child's ear...

"Everything's going to be okay, you don't have to be afraid, I'll always be here for you."





"Hyu, are you sure we're in the right place?" the one-eyed knight questioned the Dreamer, scratching his head as he looked around the outskirts.

They've chased down the last group of fleeing enemies far out into the outskirts, losing sight of them when they thought they had them cornered. Now here they are, facing a hillside with nothing but patches of trees surrounding them. The Dreamer had just gone out from his Oversight spell after surveying the immediate surroundings. He heaved a sigh as he turned to face Joaquim.

"As sure as the sun always rises in the morning." he answered, "There aren't any escape routes passable by foot around us. Even if you're four-legged or not, the only place you'll find yourself in if you followed the path they took..." he trailed off, hands spreading out to indicate location, "is right here."

Joaquim sighed but opted not to contradict the Dreamer's assumptions. "Fine. We'll search the area." he decided and turned towards the group of knights they had with them. "Alright listen up! I know you're all exhausted—we all are—but I need you to gather your strength. Our work is far from over! We all know Sinners don't just vanish in thin air, and we all know Pure Sinners can be felt even if they are burrowed. Hyuga says we're in the right place, and I believe him. They had to have some sort of escape route hidden nearby. It's also quite possible that they used the same way to get into this island. Let's pair up and start looking! If we can find the path they used, we can form countermeasures so that they can never invade the island again. Move out men!" Joaquim finalized his orders and turned back to Hyuga.

The Dreamer was currently in the process of emptying his water canister, pouring the rest of its contents above his head, an attempt to revitalize himself no doubt. Joaquim was impressed by this man today. The moment they got here, Hyuga turned into a completely different person. By no means was he the usual man-of-science they had all been accustomed to, today he was a knight worthy of a place in Squad Eight. He alone defended several shelters from wave after wave of enemies, saved probably more than just hundreds of fleeing civilians, came to the aid of numerous squads in peril, and even formulated defensive strategies amidst the heat of battle to help turn the tide for some districts. However, accomplishing such amazing feats must be taking its toll upon him now. Joaquim felt bad for having dragged Hyuga with him around Quadrant One of Lindela.

"Hyu, you can take a break if you need to." Joaquim offered kindly.

Red eyes slowly turned to look at the eye-patched knight, one brow lifting at the offer, "Well, well... aren't you being nice? I'm fine Joaquim, you don't have to worry about me."

"I'm just saying Hyu. You've been firing off pretty big defensive and offensive spells ever since we got here. Surely you're tired."

"Exhaustion is a small price to pay for the safety of this island." Hyuga's tone dropped one note lower, a hint of sadness mixing in with his words. However, before Hyuga could let out any further emotion, he composed himself and grinned at Joaquim, "Besides, one of the downsides of being a caster-type knight is that we burn stamina like there's no tomorrow. However, it's not like we haven't found a way to deal with that slight disadvantage. So I'm still good to go Joaquim."

"Hahaha! Convincing as always when you're not talking about science projects." Joaquim quipped, "It's just that Natalia said I should bring you back to her in one piece. I'm just trying to keep my promise to her." Joaquim laughed again.

"Urk! S-She said that?!" Hyuga's eyes widened in disbelief. "Grr.. that woman!" he grudgingly added, "I thought I told her to stop saying unnecessary things! Argh! When this is over, she and I will have to talk!"

The reaction took Joaquim slightly aback. He hadn't really expected this kind of reaction from him but it did confirm his suspicions, as well as their Vice Captain's gossip. "Hyu..."

"What?!"

"You do realize I was kidding right?"

"Wha..? Y-You were?"

Joaquim looked at the black-haired man seriously, "I was." he said before bursting out into laughter. "But you know, I think you two are the perfect match! An airhead and a smart-ass." he continued laughing before he patted Hyuga on the shoulder, "Good luck Hyu. Come on! Let's get looking!"





"Knights escorting a large group of civilians coming in! Raise the gates!"

District Sixteen's gates slowly rose at the command from the watchtower. Earlier today, this district was one of those under siege but now, it had been turned into a complete fortress. Vlad looked at the knights that lined the walls with their bows and arrows, standing on high alert. There were also squads on horseback patrolling the perimeter in tight intervals. Truly, he couldn't even begin to comprehend just how his Captain had managed to turn these mediocre knights into a steadfast bulwark.

Upon their approach to the gates, a group of knights greeted the convoy of people and guided them into the district. One of the knights from the district remained and seemed to be looking for the one in command, but all the other knights that were escorting the civilians turned to Vlad, and so the knight approached him instead.

"May I have your name and squad number, knight?"

Not used to such formalities, Vlad cleared his throat before speaking, "Vlad Eriste of Squad Eight, at your service sir."

There was a noticeable shock from the knight asking for his name and rank, followed by a not-so-subtle widening of his eyes as he learned of Vlad's name and squad number. It didn't take too long for the knight to change his tone with him. "Apologies sir Vlad, please pardon my rudeness! Might I trouble you for some details? We're trying to keep things organized inside as per Master Guilford's instructions."

"Sounds exactly like what the Captain would do..." Vlad scratched his head sheepishly, "Very well. What sort of details do you need?"

"I can write them down as we walk." said the knight, "You must have been through a lot and probably want some refreshments. Please, this way." he urged Vlad to follow him.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Vlad followed the knight into District Sixteen. He was tired—really tired—but felt like he still couldn't rest and that there are other things he felt like he needed to do. He answered all of the knight's queries as they walked into the district, all the while observing the numerous civilians that had taken refuge here. Apparently, his Captain was segregating people. Those who lived in the most badly hit districts were to be sent up to Gless until their districts have been rebuilt, and those who were fortunate enough to have suffered minimal damage to their districts were on temporary stay, just until they have made sure that it was once again safe to go back to their homes.

Their Captain and Master Lethe will no doubt have it rough. For them regular knights, all they needed to do was follow orders, fight and save people. Seraphs on the other hand had to do that, worry about the aftermath, think of immediate solutions to any complications that might arise, and then work on formulating plans to avert such a thing as this from happening again in the future. Just thinking about all of those made Vlad's head spin, and that was excluding having to report to the council, and the mountains of paperwork that was surely going to follow.

Could he do that too? They were such big shoes to fill that aspiring to be a Seraph seemed like nothing more than just a crazy knight's dream. Vlad gave up on the thought. Like what their Captain once said to him, certain people are good at certain things. His strength wasn't in leading, but in following orders. He should just stick to what he knows best and be good at it. Yes, for now that was what he should do.

"Well then sir Vlad, thank you for the information. Master Guilford still hasn't returned from another skirmish but he should be back soon. If you need to see him, you're likely to find him in the District Hall once he gets back." the knight helpfully informed Vlad before taking his leave.

The blonde knight bowed in respect and watched the other knight walk away. Left to his own devices, Vlad's thoughts began to wander. He had been fighting since he got here and he hadn't had the luxury of taking even just a short break. Now that he had eased up a little, he could now feel his exhaustion starting to claim his legs. Perhaps a short break was in order. This day had been extremely rough; it was a good thing he got here in time to get his family out safely. At least that was one less worry for him.

Just as Vlad turned to find a place where he could get refreshments, someone had clumsily bumped into him, falling to the ground along with the things she carried as well as her spectacles. Unsure whose fault it was, Vlad was slow to react, until he noticed that the woman had started groping the ground for her glasses. Was she as blind as a bat without them? Vlad's eyes immediately scanned the ground, spotting the badly needed vision aid just to the left of the woman. As soon as he knelt down to pick up the glasses, the woman froze, sensing that there was someone in front of her.

"Hold still please." Vlad requested as he gently put on the glasses for her, "There. That should do it. Can you see now?"

The first reaction Vlad got from the woman was the slow widening of her pale green eyes, followed by the quick nod of her head. Without word, the woman immediately searched for her scattered belongings. Vlad (who felt ashamed of himself) scrambled to help her, gathering those which were nearest to him and handing them over. Coming from a family of merchants, Vlad recognized most of the things he had gathered, they were materials to make trinkets—bracelets mostly—along with one which was already finished.

"Here you go." he said with a smile, "Sorry I didn't see you coming my way. I should have been more careful." he added. The woman simply smiled back at him as she took her things off of Vlad's hands. "You're awfully quiet aren't you? A woman of few words I suppose?" Vlad had to ask because of his curiosity about the woman's continued silence.

The sad smile he got as a response from her as she looked down finally made him understand.

Stupid! How clueless he had been! It wasn't as if the woman was one of those with few words—she couldn't speak! "S-Sorry I uhh.. I hadn't realized.. I didn't know..." he apologized sincerely, but even then he still felt like he had insulted her beyond apologies.

Now the woman had a genuine smile as she shook her head. Those pale green hues behind her glasses searched for Vlad's eyes that looked away in shame, until she found them. Her smile grew a little wider while she plucked that one finished bracelet from the lot of her things. The woman had gently placed it on Vlad's hand, along with a sealed letter and a bow of gratitude. Before Vlad could say anything else, the woman quickly stood up and ran the opposite direction as fast as her legs allowed her to, squeezing through the cramped streets until she disappeared from Vlad's sight.

The dumbfounded knight could do nothing but slowly rise to his feet, staring at the items he had just now received. The bracelet symbolized gratitude. It was made from Lindela's finest marble beads, strung together in even numbers of interchanging colors between pink and multi-hued beads; it was beautiful. A smile broke out of Vlad's lips as he admired the trinket for a few more seconds before turning his attention to the letter. He slowly opened it and read the content...



When Vlad finished reading the letter, every bit of fatigue he felt and the stress this day brought him had gone without a trace. A content smile played on his lips as he folded the letter close, heart thumping loudly beneath his armored chest, and he felt renewed energy fill his being, like he had just caught his second wind. While knights ask for no recognition or praise, it wasn't so bad to actually receive one every now and then. He was just called a great knight—an acknowledgment of him stepping out of the mediocre shell he used to wear. He knew it was not the time to celebrate but even so, this was a personal victory for him, one that would forever be etched in his mind.

"Lilielle huh..." he smiled. Maybe one of these days he would drop by to check on them.

Maybe..





The sound of three consecutive magic explosions echoed throughout a desolate District Ten. Guilford and a handful of knights have been battling pockets of enemies that still remained—even after they had done their ghastly deed of brutally remodeling the district—with the goal of finding that particular Sin creature stated in one of the reports that came in. Their search however, bore no fruit, for all they have found were straggling Reapers and Sinners.

"I think that's the last of them.." one of the knights commented off-hand as he panted for breath, "Master Guilford, that thing in the report isn't here either."

The male Seraph glanced at the pony-tailed, red-haired man while slowly lowering his still smoking left hand. Of course it wouldn't be here—that would've been too easy! Somehow, that thing seemed to have the ability to pop out anywhere it pleases. Strangely though, it wasn't killing people, nor was it being destructive which was greatly worrying. Simply put, it had ulterior motives far beyond just terrorizing Lindela. The longer they take in finding it, the more time that creature would have to enact whatever it is that it was planning.

Just as Guilford turned the other way, a crashing sound came from the windows of the adjacent structure. The red-haired knight as well as the others, instantly looked up, just in time to see a Reaper coming down on the male Seraph with its menacing scythe drawn back. There was only a few seconds to react, and none of them would make it in time to block the attack. They chose to do what they could...

"Master Guilford!! Look out!!" all five knights with him yelled in warning.

The Reaper swung, aiming to decapitate the Seraph. In the eyes of the other knights, what seemed to have been a perfectly timed strike, hit nothing but air. Guilford ducked just in time, pivoted from below and lunged upward, grabbing the Reaper by the face using his right hand, and slammed its head hard to the ground. Almost simultaneously, magic essence sizzled in Guilford's right hand before it turned into an ominously cackling lightning.

"This is going to hurt... a lot."

Firing his magic at point-blank range, the Reaper's body convulsed wildly as streams of lightning coursed from its head, down to its body via Guilford's hand. These things may be resistant to Holy Magic, but elemental ones work just fine. Ten seconds later and the Reaper was nothing more than a burnt, lifeless heap. The five knights with the Seraph all rushed towards him in concern but before anyone of them could ask if he was alright, Guilford beat them to the punch.

"You worry too much. I knew it was there, that's why I deliberately gave my back to it to flush it out."

The five knights could only look at each other in awe once again. They have been tagging along with Guilford when he asked for five of the best knights from District Sixteen, yet no matter how many times they have seen him in combat, they still couldn't believe their eyes at his prowess. They were confident about their skill when they were with their original squads, enough so to have been considered among the best, yet in the presence of this man, they felt themselves to be no better than rookie knights. Sure, he was a Seraph and it was already obvious that there would be a considerable gap in skill and power, but none of them had actually expected that gap to be so wide. This man was in a league of his own; a humbling reminder that if they wanted to be strong, they had to work even harder than what they were used to.

"Let's go. We're done here."

"What of the horned creature from the report?"

Guilford stopped for a moment to think. "We'll just be wasting time trying to locate it if my assumption about its abilities is correct. Our time would be better spent helping the citizens rather than going off on a wild goose chase."

"Are we just going to let it run free?"

This time, Guilford turned to look at the five knights who still refused to move. "I didn't say that. With our current skill set, we're not suited to chasing this creature all around the island. But I know someone who can."

"May we ask who?"

Guilford chuckled. "Master Lethe and her knight Leon."

_________________

[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela ]]

“Mas-Master Lethe! Master Lethe!” Said Knight paused at the shouts, her head swivelling to face the person calling for her. A Knight was running down the street towards her; one hand waved furiously but her attention was caught on the red tint of his shin guards and the pale pallor of his face. He looked as if all color had fled and his voice a bit too shaky to be normal even in the current circumstances. “Master Lethe. Please. Follow me. There. You need to see this.” His voice trembled precariously and Lethe turned in acquiescence.

The walk back was quiet as neither had anything to say. Lethe was too focused on worrying about the situation as a whole and the Knight was equally mute. A sudden hitch of the breath caught Lethe’s wandering thoughts; she turned an inquisitive eye in his direction but froze before she could say anything. A blotchy red sheet was draped over a bulky mound. Now that she was paying attention, she became cognizant of the many heaps pushed against the side of the roads. Most were covered with cloth of some kind but there were some gaps in the coverage. In one, a dull eye stared listlessly at the sky. In another, a stub of flesh ended abruptly in a diminishing puddle of red. She traced the stream of blood with detached eyes, her horror submerged under by the weight of duty, and followed it to her feet. She lifted a foot; the sole was stained red. The blood continued towards the other side of the road. The street wasn’t draining properly. She would have to mention that to Councilor Livius.

She placed her foot back down and continued her walking. After a moment, her companion caught up and led the way once more. Their journey was silent once more but this time Lethe was more aware of her surroundings. Her anger rose at the countless piles on the sides of the road but her face remained as placid as ever. She ignored the side-long glances the other Knight was sending her way as he tried to gauge her reaction.

He didn’t need to announce their destination; Lethe caught sight of it before he could speak.
WHERE IS YOUR THEA NOW?
The question mocked the reader, both in its meaning and its form. The letters were crudely arranged, the mostly straight sections of bleached white joined by messy curves in a deep rust red: broken bones and bloody strips of flesh, the latter seemingly added wherever the writer had felt some color was necessary. The bulky sheet below it made painfully clear where the writing materials had originated from. It was grotesque.

“We-we’re still trying to figure out what ‘thea’ is.” The Knight spoke up nervously and he struggled to breathe under the sudden, inexplicable fear he felt, “and who may have left it..” His excuses died when the Seraph lifted her hand abruptly. Her face was as impassive as ever but her eyes burned with outrage. The shiver that went down his spine was his only warning before there was a flash of light behind them and he turned to see nine swords hanging menacingly in the air. “Uh..?” He didn’t even get to start his question before light pierced the air. He spun back around to see the message riddled with holes. Master Lethe’s famous Heaven’s Judgment’s blades spun forward and carved through the wall with surprising viciousness. When everything settled, not even dust remained of the message.

The Knight opened his mouth, closed it, tried again to speak, and then settled on gulping softly.

Was she still here? No, the demon was too much a coward to have stayed here, surrounded by Pristine Knights, without a sure escape route. Light’s Blessing flared into blue eyes and Lethe observed her surroundings carefully. Though Sin wafted through the air, there was no concentration of it that would suggest a demon. She couldn’t even see anything that would suggest a Sinner. She turned to the Knight next to her and spoke politely: “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You don’t need to worry about the message. Would you feel comfortable continuing the.. clean up efforts here? I’ve already checked the few streets around us and I see no Sinners. However, I’ll check the rest of the District as well.” The concentration of holy magic in front of her bobbed its head, and she remembered to tack a thankful smile on her face. “Please excuse me, then. May the Divine Light bless you and keep you safe.” Seals glowed under her feet and she jumped into the air to finish her search, Luna blazing in one hand and her body framed by eight shining swords.

“May I borrow your brush?” Cricket didn’t bother asking if the other man had one; Grisia’s golden hair made the question superfluous. The former Advocate smiled pleasantly and retrieved the grooming instrument without a comment. Now armed, Cricket advanced to the room YunQiao was hiding in. As generous as Adair’s three brothers were, they still had no qualms playing favorites so the scholarly Knight had been given a room to himself. Everyone else could fend on the shop floor.

There was no answer to his knock but Cricket hadn't expected one. After another unanswered knock, the Knight let himself in. The room was unlit, the last strains of sunlight bathing the room in red and shadows, and YunQiao sat stoically in the bed. Though his posture was as straight as ever, apathy hung around him as evident by his rumpled clothes. He didn't react to Cricket's intrusion. The older man sighed softly even as a wry smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Oh, Stuffy...

Cricket had taken a seat beside the scholar and just lifted the first tangle when YunQiao finally reacted. Blue eyes glared in his direction but even that lacked the normal indignation. The occasional crossdresser ignored the glare with ease as he started combing out the knot. In less than a minute, the glare petered out and YunQiao resumed his listless search over the room, looking for answers that weren't present.

What was he doing with his life? How could he call himself a Knight? Why hadn't he done anything to help in the fight? Even through the closed window, muffled weeping could be heard. They were reminders of his failures. He'd been so sure about that portal.. so sure it was important. Then he'd go back and help them--his fellow Knights, the innocents he'd sworn to protect. But what did he have to show for his decision? An ignominious defeat.

If he hadn't dashed off in search of that portal, could he have saved these people?

"Ow!" A stab of pain from his head broke his circling thoughts. A palm roughly patted the back of his head, nearly sending him faceplanting into his lap, and then the pressure beside him vanished as Cricket stood up. The purple haired man stretched, tossed the comb onto the bureau, and turned to pick up a folded set of clothes. He offered the garments but YunQao made no move to accept them. After a moment of awkward waiting, Cricket let them fall onto the bed. Brown eyes analyzed the unresponsive man for a moment before moving away.

This time he returned with the scholarly Knight's sword when he planted himself at the foot of the bed. He said nothing, just waited and stared. Finally, YunQiao could ignore him no more; blue eyes flickered around before conceding and focusing on him.

A moment later, Cricket spoke: "I doubt you'll let me put makeup on you, and I doubt I could find any right now anyways." The seemingly random words kept the brunet's attention on him, "so go wash your face and put some proper clothes on." Two pairs of eyes glanced at the discarded outfit on the bed, slightly mussed from their careless fall. There was no other visible reaction but the purple haired Knight could feel the frown YunQiao was no doubt sporting. “Stop pouting. The battle may be over but this war isn't.” The disapproval deepened as did the slightest expression of guilt. “Get up.” Cricket ordered with unusual harshness, “and then come out and take back your sword. You’re a member of Squad Lethe. You don’t get to quit this easily.”

The words still rung through the air as Cricket spun on his heel. There was an indistinct sound of protest but he ignored it as he strode out and closed the door behind him with finality. He would have slammed it shut but there were refugees downstairs. The noise would unnecessarily startle them.

He looked down at the sword in his hands and felt regret bubble up within him. Whatever was bothering Stuffy, his act may not have helped. If he was Captain or Valiar, he could have talked Stuffy through the problem. But he was neither. His grip tightened on the sword's scabbard. He could only help in his own way and that way was kicking Stuffy in the ass to make him move again.

A voice spoke up to interrupt the sigh he was about to release. "It’s fine. The Light won't ask more of him than he can handle." A different pair of blue eyes met his gaze when he looked up. Grisia smiled kindly and Cricket could see the echo of the Advocate he used to be. That image was soon shattered with the blond’s next words: “Now stop pining like a lovestruck Romeo and get back to work! I have Light knows how many strangers on my shopfloor. You’re a Knight: Sword of the weak, shield of the people, and so on? Then go help them so they can get out!”

[[Day 31 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]

"I. I would like to start this with a hymn I learned when I was younger.
If I could tell the world just one thing it would be: we're all okay. And not to worry, because worry is wasteful and useless in times like these. I won't be made useless. I won't be idle with despair. Gather myself around my faith because light is the darkness' greatest fear.

My hands are small I know, but they are my own. And I am never broken."

She paused, letting the words settle over the survivors in front of her. About half of her audience bore the signs of the attack--bandages, missing limbs, casts, and crutches--but she knew all carried scars in their hearts. Lindela was a haven, a stronghold of the Light where Sin was kept at bay. Or at least it had been. But two days ago, that defense was breached, shattered. They had seen their homes destroyed, their loved ones injured, or worse, and their belief shaken. As unworthy as she might feel, it was her task to reassure them.

"I know what happened two days ago was..” was there any word strong enough, encompassing enough to describe what had happened? She knew no such word but hoped her emotions would convey what the word could not, “terrible. What happened was terrible. However, we can’t let that hold us down. We must persevere. We must overcome. Because to give up, to cower in fear--that would be letting Sin win, that would be telling them terror attacks like this work, that they should do this again.

But they shouldn’t. Because this doesn’t work. We will not cower in fear. We are the Immaculate. We are those who walk under the Divine Light, who bask in its protection. Sin may come and try to take us but they will not conquer us. We will overcome. We will triumph. No matter if we are ‘Pristine Knight’ or ‘Advocate’ or any other label: we are all the Immaculate. And together, we will illuminate the world.

Our hands may be small; they may be old; they may be frail or weak. But they are our own. And we are never broken.

Thank you, and may the Divine Light bless us and guide us through these dark times.”

[[Day 1 of Month -5 :: Lindela]]

One finger tapped impatiently against her thigh as she waited for the all clear signal. In the end, it had been decided her best contribution would be her brute force. As if summoned by her thoughts, a Knight reappeared from the broken house with a bag. The floppy limb of a toy, a teddy bear, she'd guess, hung out the side of the sack. It looked forlorn to have been abandoned so carelessly and she turned away before she could speculate any more. Some tales were best left unheard, at least if she didn't want to abscond from her duties.

"You're clear." A rough voice ordered and Seraphim cracked her neck, her entire body relaxing. She prowled into the building all languid grace as she spotted the weaknesses in the frame. Her first day had been blindly whacking at the buildings in piques of anger. On the second, a carpenter had taken her aside.

By now, she’d gotten good at spotting the weak points in the decaying properties. A few good hits and the structure would cave in. It had taken her another two days to figure that trick out but it was one her comrades vastly preferred: less flying beams that might try to take their heads off. Flaring her aura, she felt the heady rush of power that came with her Light’s Blessing. In this form, she felt invincible. Four punches later she hurtled out of the falling door with her enhanced speed. She landed in the middle of the street to the crash of the house collapsing to the ground.

Nailed it.

The pink haired woman caught the eye of another Knight and he smiled wryly as he pointed to another house. Seraphim returned the smile with an apologetic one of her own; she was lucky enough to be given a constructive way to work off her frustration. She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be on clean-up duty, having to go into these homes and gather the scant possessions left, wondering about who had lived here, if they had survived: an endless stream of questions of what-ifs.

A shudder ran down her spine as her mind teetered on that edge. What if she had been faster? What if she had been stronger? Or smarter? Or any other possibility that may have saved more people? It was a deceptive daydream that lured the one in and trapped one in indecision.

We all make mistakes, have struggles, and even regret things in our past. But you are not your mistakes; you are not your struggles. You are here now with the power to shape your future.

The memory of the Knight’s words pulled her back to reality. Maybe she could have done better, maybe not. There was no way to know. All she could do was keep moving forward, keep shaping the future.

Looking around her, she spotted the flaws with ease. Pulling back a fist, she let it fly.

[[Day 2 of Month -5 :: The Grand Cathedral, Gless]]

Lethe let the door slip shut behind her, muffling the sounds of scraping chairs and bickering Councilors. By the Light, she was tired. Her feet mindlessly shuffled to the side before she slid onto one of the empty benches. Privacy runes flared into existence and she was hidden from sight. It was only under the veil of invisibility did she let her spine slump and head bow. It had been a long four days with many more looming in the distance. It was becoming a disturbingly common trend.

Eyelashes fluttered open at the sound of footsteps. A familiar looking Scribe was striding by in quick but unhurried steps. Blue eyes followed his walk as she tried to remember why she seemed to recognize him. She was certain she’d seen that red hair before. Oh. “Scribe Omi,” her invisibility washed away as she stood up. The young man’s facade of tranquility crumpled at the unexpected call and he jerkily spun in her direction.

“Mas-Master Lethe!” He exclaimed in surprise at the Seraph’s sudden appearance. He could have sworn the hallway was empty!

“I’m sorry for startling you. Where are you headed?”

Omi shook his head in embarrassment at being caught so flustered. “Just to return some files to the Library,” he deferred, not wanting to offend with a terse reply but cognizant of how precious Master Lethe’s time was. It was very like the Seraph to take the time to inquire about others even when her workload was no doubt triple his. It was a large part of her popularity among those in the Cathedral. (Well, there were many other reasons as well, but her concern certainly helped as well.) He felt the skin of his hands heat up as he felt her attention shift to them and the files they clutched.

The sight of the papers reminded her of the other uses of Scribes. Lethe mostly encountered them when they delivered her paperwork or took it away, but Scribes were also skilled in transcribing, summarizing, and research, among no doubt countless other administrative tasks. Omi was also circumspect; the lack of rumors about her and Guilford’s accidental nap a testament to that fact. In short, he was perfect for what she needed.

A vague plan, one that had been brewing in the back of her mind since her conversation with YunQiao, began to take shape. “Omi, may I ask for your assistance with something discreet?”

The redhead paused at the careful wording, reminded of another secret request he had been handling for a Seraph. He’d need to pass those along to Master Guilford sometime soon, or Master Lethe if the former wasn’t available, once a more opportune time presented itself. “Of course, Master Lethe. How may I help?”

“After you finish your task, please speak with Olexiy about clearing up your schedule. I’d like you reassigned under my command for the foreseeable future.” Omi nodded his head even as his mind wrestled with the first surprise. Olexiy--who was Olexiy? The mention of reassignment gave him a vague clue: had she meant Head Supervisor Whittemore? He somehow doubted the older man would appreciate being bothered about a detail as trivial as what a junior scribe was doing, but Seraph Lethe probably didn’t realize that. Then again, she was a Seraph, second only to the Council (and some could debate how the Seraphs and Council ranked against each other); Head Supervisor Whittlemore was probably just another acquaintance to her. The distance between stars like her and ordinary people like him loomed large. “Thank you, please arrange a meeting room in the Library as well for our use, again for an indefinite time. It should seat four. There’s no need to monopolize a larger room.” With a smile of thanks, Master Lethe turned and walked off.

Only when the Seraph could no longer be seen did Omi release the breath he’d been holding in his lungs once the rest of her words had made sense. Reassigned to the Seraph’s command. For the foreseeable future. This was more than just a few extra hours in the Archives or a few errands. Whatever he was about to do must be really important for that sort of action. For one numbing moment, he could feel his terror rising within him at that thought. No, he wasn’t ready. He didn’t dare. His breath echoed heavily in his ears and the harsh sounds gave him enough distraction to ground himself. No, it was just researching. It had to just be researching or transcribing or something along those veins. If whatever he was working on was as sensitive as she implied, there was no way she’d make a helpless Scribe deliver such documents or message when a Scout would do better. Those reassurances echoed in his head as he hurried down the corridor. Master Lethe needed his assistance; it was the least his lowly self could do.

Deimos lifted his katana into the air to catch the light as he inspected the blade critically. Yellow eyes narrowed as they caught sight of a blemish and he brought the blade back into his lap so he could rub the cleaning rag against it once more. When he was satisfied his weapon was flawless once more, he tossed the scrap back into the pile at the center of the coffee table. Surprisingly, Leon didn’t seem to notice his action so the blond, who had been reaching for one of the polishing cloths, startled as the rag hit his hand. Surprised hazel eyes looked in his direction and caught his gaze. The younger Knight grimaced sheepishly, nodded his head in apology, grabbed a new cloth, and retreated back into his seat where he focused on rubbing down his sword.

The rear guard stifled his sigh. Leon hadn’t acted this skittish since before their first trip to Palaugrim. Glancing around the room, he noted that everyone seemed ‘off’ this evening.

Valiar was motionless in his normal armchair. For once the cleric wasn’t polishing his armor or sword as he was wont to do. Instead, Valiar was gripping a framed photo with an unsettled frown. Deimos didn’t need to glance at the shelves to know which photograph the cleric was holding. After the close call Marielle and Annabelle had during the attack, he couldn’t fault the older man for such worry. The blond Knight wondered idly if he would have such an expression if he had a wife and daughter and they’d had such a close encounter with death. It would be an interesting though to ponder though he suspected the answer already. Uncomfortable, he returned to scanning the room.

Adair stood silently in the corner of the room; although his face was studiously neutral, there was no hiding the storm that seemed to loom behind him. No doubt he was rethinking that afternoon’s battle. Yellow eyes narrowed on his squadmate. He knew Romauld and Adair had not been happy with the unknown creature’s death given the vigil they’d held but he didn’t understand their inner conflict. There was nothing noble about death; there was no better or worse death. Death simply was: it existed; it would inevitably come. The creature’s had come that day and theirs hadn’t, yet.

Deimos lazily swirled his katana through the air, light flashing carelessly off the gleaming surface, as he double checked there was no remaining blood or dirt. Even with the dimensional blade, which had ended up surprisingly useful in ridding the creature of its arms, the pale blond Knight preferred relying on his tangible blade. His katana came to a halt against the palm of his hand and its familiar weight was a reassurance. Katanas had been one of few constants through his life, though not necessarily this one. Tapping the weapon against his palm, his gaze slid back to his fellow Seraph Candidate. Adair had a very nice set of weapons as well; his brother had made them, if Deimos recalled correctly.

He hummed thoughtfully at the reminder of the two masterpieces attributable to Roland: Adair’s size-changing weapons and Captain’s prized Luna. Perhaps he could see if the older man was willing to accept commissions. It never hurt to have a trick up the sleeve. Even if his sword came without a special attribute, at least he’d have the skill of one of the best blacksmiths supporting his weapon. It was a good idea.

Feeling the weight of a stare, the blond Knight looked up to catch purple eyes. A pink-haired head tilted sideways in curiosity but Deimos just shook his head. Brows furrowed but Seraphim said nothing more, turning her head to continue staring at the wall. An uncharacteristic frown seemed painted on her lips. Like the others in the room, she seemed contemplative. Her armor was dented in a few areas and yellow eyes narrowed on the reddened flesh around her knuckles. Her gauntlets should have protected her hands from such damage. He’d have to order her a special set with better padding and perhaps some reinforced knuckledusters on the gauntlet. Seraphim had always preferred using her fists but after Kanna’s lessons and her valkyrie, she depended on hand to hand even more now.

A door creaked open before he could ponder which of his suppliers could best fulfill that order. Captain had returned.

"Romauld, thank you for coming." Lethe beckoned the brunet into the small room. YunQiao, Leon, and an unknown redhead were already seated at the round table for four and the corners were crammed with scrolls and books. "I would like you to lead a special project for me. My Knight YunQiao has identified how so many Sin Creatures were able to enter Lindela." She spun a piece of paper around to reveal a sketch of an archway covered in runes. The former Knight Commander of Rasova frowned at the unfamiliar image. He scanned the drawing but looked up shortly; he would examine it in more detail later. Seraph Lethe surely had better things to do than wait for him. "Eve has built these portals that, I would guess, transport the Sin Creatures from wherever she is gathering them to Lindela.” A grim nod showed he understood, “Unfortunately, I don’t know where they are. They seem to have been purposefully hidden in remote locations. We discovered one in the mountains in District Nine and another in a basement in District Eighteen. They were both concealed under privacy runes, secrecy spells, et cetera to keep them from being detected. I presume the others are as well.” The next nod was slower as the former Knight Commander processed the new information.

“I want you to find them and destroy them.” How simple her words made such a monumental task sound. “YunQiao, Leon, and Omi are assigned to help you. YunQiao is well versed with magic and has studied runes. Leon is the best sensor I have. Omi is a Scribe and will assist with whatever you need.” A finger pointed at each man as she identified them. “I want to keep this under wraps as much as possible. I do not want any news getting out that Eve has backdoors into Lindela and possibly Gless.” Such news could easily derail their reconstruction efforts. “Take them out the moment you find them.” Her gaze switched to her squadmates as she addressed them, “If any of Guilford’s Squad or any of the others are free, you can have them help in destroying the portals as well.” Her attention turned back to the entire group, “Any questions?” But of course there were none; YunQiao clearly already knew of the issue, Leon was used to taking orders from Master Lethe by now, and the other two men were still processing the bombshell she’d dropped on them.

With no objections, Lethe pushed back her chair and stood up. “If I can help in any way, please tell me. This is an important matter to both me and Gil; we want this resolved as soon as possible.” Unspoken went the knowledge both Seraphs would already be strapped for time with all their other duties. “I’ll leave it to you then. May the Divine Light bless you and guide you to success.”

Romauld slid into the vacated chair silently. Portals straight into Lindela. It was a terrifying thought. He’d thought having to run a Fortress was bad! Seraphs had to deal with enemies having bullshit abilities to teleport troops past all their defenses. Seraphs and Seraph Candidates, as this was now his problem.

“Alright then. YunQiao, can you explain in greater detail about these portals?”

Marielle scrubbed a towel over her face wearily, the mild pain helping refresh her senses. She idly rubbed the wet cloth over her hands as her gaze wandered over the square in front of her. Muslin tarps stretched over half the area as a flimsy defense against the elements; unfortunately, it didn’t protect them against the bite in the air. A sneeze tickled her nose and the blonde turned away from the washing basin. Fall was coming and with it the colder temperatures. She folded the towel and laid it against the bowl before walking away so the next person could freshen up.

She shook the last droplets of water from her hands idly before pulling her coat tighter around her. It really was getting chilly. If only… The blonde forced herself not to wander down that path. She was already very lucky. Her family had lived through the attack without any injuries; she had a safe place to stay; and her Valiar was close by. At that thought, her eyes instinctively looked towards the makeshift infirmary; as if sensing her gaze, Valiar looked up from the patient he was treating and their eyes met. A relieved smile crossed her husband’s lips and she felt the gesture reflect itself on hers. A moment passed before Valiar looked back down at his patient. Marielle turned away as well as her fists fell away from her coat. Yes, she was already very lucky.

OOC Notes | +

All credits to Jewel's Hands for inspiration. Her lyrics have been shamelessly borrowed for the speech above as marked in italics. Any transcribing issues were intentional.

Also, for anyone curious: Lindela Map

_________________

Day 31st of Month 4: Lindela


Slowly but surely, everything was finally starting to calm down. Lindela as it was right now, was currently in the process of rebuilding. Hand in hand with the knights, quite a few of the Lindelans took it upon themselves to contribute to the effort. Having suffered a monumental amount of damage, it was not going to be easy for the knights to rebuild the broken districts by themselves. People, Knights, noblemen or ranking—it didn't matter who they were or what rank they held, together they would face this trial with heads held high; unity was the one thing they couldn't afford to lose.

One such individual was Guilford, leading a group of knights with the meager task of clearing rubble. He had just hoisted another huge chunk of debris onto their cart when one of the knights decided to once again protest, claiming that he should not be wasting his precious time with such mundane tasks that they themselves could effectively do. Guilford simply shrugged his shoulders. How many times would this make it now? He had disregarded similar protests numerous times that he was already feeling a certain kind of immunity from them.

"I came from a family of blacksmiths, Rogen. I am no stranger to labor and the hammer." he chuckled, grabbing another chunk of debris and tossing it into the cart, "and surely, being a Seraph will not net you immunity from these... mundane tasks." he parroted the other, ending with a hearty laugh.

"But Master Guilford, surely you have other pressing concerns that warrant your attention more than this task of clearing rubble don't you?" the knight called Rogen continued his protest, lifting his part of debris and tossing it into the cart.

"I'd like to think Seraphs are not the only capable leaders that we have in the ranks. I am confident that they can handle any further issues from here without me or Master Lethe having to oversee each and every single one of them." he said, tossing another chunk of debris before tapping the cart twice to notify the driver that it was full. "Look, you can try to dissuade me all day long but I will tell you now that you wouldn't succeed." he grinned at Rogen, "Now, let's go take a look at this house shall we?"

The group of six knights walked over to the house in question. At first glance, the noticeable damage would be to its windows, front porch and side walls, secondary to that would be the garden that obviously needed some love and attention too. "It's going to need new window panes, new walls and doors—the support pillars for the porch roof seems ready to give at a moment's notice too." one of the knights openly mumbled.

"Best get to it then. Gather what we need so we can start on this pronto."

A few hours later and the sun was already high up above the knights and people hard at work. Guilford and his group of hardworking knights were steadily making progress at the house they were rebuilding when one of them stopped. "Master Guilford, to your five o'clock." he notified the Seraph who was busy sawing some wood for the window panes.

Turning to check his five, Guilford's brows unexpectedly rose from the sight. Coming their way was a person he did not expect to see out here even in the slightest. High Councilor Cornelius, escorted by a squad of knights, was making his way towards him. One of the knights happily took over Guilford's current task and the Seraph decided to meet the Councilor halfway.

"What a surprise Councilor. What brings you here?"

"Well..." Cornelius trailed off, glancing at the work this Seraph had been previously doing, "certain individuals refused to heed a Council Summons. I was beginning to wonder what was keeping them tied to this island?" the Councilor grinned, "I suppose building houses and clearing debris warrants a Seraph's attention now?" he jabbed at Guilford who was currently tidying his hands from sawdust.

"It beats paperwork." Guilford bluntly admitted, "and the stress of dealing with old men and woman." he jabbed back, prompting a laugh from the High Councilor.

"Sorry for being a handful. By the way, where is Master Lethe?" Cornelius inquired.

"Around. Here and there. Probably doing the same thing as I am. Though I told her not to do anything that would stunt her growth." Guilford chuckled.

"Hahaha! Where did that get you?"

"A glare and an elbow to the stomach. You know her, stubborn, dutiful, headstrong—ever looking forward. She's fine Councilor."

A relieved sigh escaped the lips of the Councilor. "Walk with me Master Guilford." the old man requested, taking the lead as Guilford followed. The two strolled along the streets of District Fourteen, currently one of the focus for repairs by the knights, and the air between them began to change into a more serious tone. Guilford deemed it necessary to surround them in a privacy ward. "Now that I can see the extent of the damage with my own eyes, I can understand why both of you feel compelled to stay." he spoke his mind, eyes surveying the district as they walked. "However, members of the council feel like you and Master Lethe have been less than stellar with carrying out your duties."

The remark earned itself a disgruntled expression from Guilford, "What?! We're doing exactly what we're supposed to do here! How could they even think that?!"

"Master Guilford, what is your title?"

A simple question, "Seraph, leader of the knights." one that was answered instantaneously.

"Then, need I remind you of the responsibilities bound to that title?"

Guilford fell into silence. He couldn't answer right away. He knew exactly what High Councilor Cornelius was getting at. "No. There is no such need. I am fully aware of my responsibilities. However—"

"I know." Cornelius cut him off abruptly, "I know full well what you want to say, but there is only so much that I can do when the whole council feels differently." the councilor stopped and turned to look at Guilford. "There are questions that need answers, issues that need to be addressed in the soonest possible time—matters that cannot be put on hold any longer."

"Councilor... you've seen the damage, the people—morale is at a low and just our presence here helps lift broken spirits. These people need us now more than ever! We can't ignore that!"

"What of Palaugrim then? Things are stirring up over there as well even as we speak. Had either of you answered the summons, you would have been informed..." the councilor sighed, turned around again and continued to walk, Guilford trailing not too far behind the old man. "Nevertheless, I did all I could to keep the council at bay." he finally admitted, "A few days. A few more days is all the time I could buy for you before they can put their plans to action. By then, there's nothing more that I can do."

Guilford resisted the urge to sigh or blurt out words of resentment. Everybody had their worries, everyone had roles to play—the councilors were no different. "If it's just a report they want, I could write them a detailed report on the things that transpired here on my account. It's not like we're staying on vacation here Councilor."

"It's not that simple Master Guilford. While your concerns mostly stem from a military standpoint, ours come from the societal one." Cornelius confessed, a grim expression lining his wrinkled face, "As I'm sure you're aware, a hit as devastating as this would undoubtedly cause a ripple effect that would be felt not just by the knighthood alone, but by our society as a whole. Wouldn't you agree? We council members are worried of that ripple effect."

"I've given it thought Councilor, and my thoughts led me to the conclusion that I must do what I can."

"As were their thoughts." the councilor continued, "With Lindela in its current state, Gless would have no choice but to bear this island's burden on its back, and it goes without saying that it will be on top of Gless' own concerns. It's also no secret that not much can be expected from Palaugrim. Adding to that, given we're also at war, how long do you think can we keep this up?" one eye peered at the Seraph as Cornelius glanced back at him; he had no answer. "Not for very long, this much I can honestly tell you."

Silence descended upon the two. Resources. What else could High Councilor Cornelius mean by his words? While economy was not among Guilford's primary concerns, the Seraph title was enough for both of them to be kept in the loop. After the Rising, issues about resources had already been laid out on the table for discussion. While they have been able to address a few, limited resources was something they could do nothing about. Metal, Regalia Quartz, Building Rocks—anything that can't be grown or raised were out of their hands. While efforts have been in the making to address issues regarding limited resources, none have actually bore fruit up until today. Although there have been numerous attempts, the Barrens simply held too much taint for them to harvest, forage, or even conduct mining operations safely. Now that they were once again at war, Guilford could only imagine just how fast they were burning their resources.

"Are we in that deep into the red line?"

Cornelius sighed at the question. "Not so much as to cause any immediate concerns. However, if our situation does not change, in a few years time we will undoubtedly start to feel the backlash."

"And this is why the council is stirring..."

"Yes, more or less. There's also the issue of us losing knights faster than we could train them. That goes without saying that we're losing them without getting significant results in the war too. Manpower is also a resource we can consider... limited."

The old man's words couldn't be any truer. Since this second war started, they have done nothing but stay on the defensive, fending off attacks, keeping the enemy at bay, losing knights as they do so, and all that without actually putting a dent on the other side. Slowly but surely, they were getting crushed. "Now they're pressuring us to get results too? Sure, we may have managed to beat the God of Sin once, but have they forgotten how much that victory cost us? A lot of knights died trying to kill that thing! A lot of good knights! Light knows Lethe and I too were ready to die if it meant taking the God of Sin with us. It's not that easy, Councilor!"

"I am well aware, but that doesn't change the fact between then and now, our concerns are still the same."

Guilford's hands curled into fists. The knighthood was stronger back then, and even so, victory did not come cheaply. How steep would the price be for them to emerge triumphant this time around? He and Lethe might have gotten a lot stronger since that time but the knighthood didn't as a whole, they were still just a shadow of their former glory. Guilford shuddered from the pressure he felt. The price was going to be steep, perhaps too steep for any of them to even imagine.

"And that leads me to my consultation." Cornelius turned to face the Seraph, breaking the ice, "Master Guilford, the council voted to act. As we speak, they are in the process of selection to form a group of knights that would take initiative and bring the fight to the enemy."

Purple eyes widened at the knowledge, "Have they lost their minds?! They'd go that far to bypass our command over the knights just so they can act?! To what end?! They'd be sending them to their deaths! Councilor Cornelius! I won't stand for this! We are not ready! The attack on Lindela should be proof enough that we can't win an outright conflict as we are now!"

"And as I told you earlier, the other council members think our Seraphs are not putting their best foot forward. Besides, it's not like they plan to send rookies Master Guilford, they are handpicking veteran knights for the mission—"

"Like that would mean anything! Veteran or not, the God of Sin should not be taken lightly! I know that for a fact! I'm one of the two who survived outright combat against it!"

The old councilor deflated at Guilford's words, particularly at the emphasis, "Even so... the council thinks that if we do not start fighting back, we would be sealing our fates."

Guilford could only look away. There just wasn't any arguing the fact that Councilor Cornelius brought to light. The longer they stay their swords, the more suffering they would have to endure, and the lesser their chances at victory. "Fine. Let us say we have your knights for the mission, where exactly are you planning to send them to? We don't know where the enemy is hiding."

"Your scout friend. What was his name? Take...Takeuchi?"

"What of Akira?"

"He regained consciousness yesterday. Thanks to him, we have new information regarding just that."

For better or worse, Guilford lost track of how many times Councilor Cornelius had surprised him today. Still, if he's saying that they now have information on the enemy, then perhaps a counterattack was possible. "Alright, if that's what they truly want, I'll lead the knights they picked."

Cornelius turned away from the Seraph, hands curling behind his back, "About that Master Guilford..." he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself for the revelation, "Neither you nor Master Lethe would lead the knights. They selected Abel to fill that role."





Day 3 of Month 5: Gless, Grand Cathedral


True to High Councilor Cornelius' words a few days back, the other council members did not waste time getting their point across the council chambers, and all that with disregard to Guilford's protests, suggestions, or anything that he tried to say about their plan of action. The votes had been cast: three ayes from councilors Livius, Mihai and Aurel, two nays from Laith and Cornelius, and one void vote from an uninterested woman who refused to participate—there was nothing the Seraphs could do. The stage had been set, they were going to counterattack, and all that's left for the council to do was gather the players.

A distraught Seraph sat behind his desk, eyes locked onto a stack of documents he had (surprisingly) acquired yesterday from the redhead scribe who did some 'extra digging' about the former Squad Seven. According to the scribe, these documents contained various details (some quite possibly forgotten) about the first ever Squad Seven and their adventures. Said scribe had also been meticulous enough to have compiled personal mission reports under all names of individuals listed under Squad Seven. This was it, the trail Guilford needed so he could follow the legacy of Abel the Lightbringer. If the Council was set on putting lives of knights in Abel's hands, the least he could do was to prove that Abel could be trusted with them.

If only he didn't need to be so discreet about it...

Procrastination aside, Guilford picked up one of the documents—particularly the one tagged Abel d'Arques—and began reading. An uneventful hour or so passed and Guilford set down the document with a sigh. Of course, given his former captain's secretive nature, it was to be expected that a lot of details—such as the ones he was looking for—would be omitted from personal mission reports; a fruitless effort to begin his investigation with. A groan of dissatisfaction involuntarily escaped Guilford. Why him?! Why did the council decide to pick Abel instead of their Seraphs?! Was it because they had known him to be a man who would do anything for the sake of the mission?

Before he knew it, Guilford had already picked up another document, scanning its contents for relevant information. What use was there over-thinking things? They were pressed for time, and the sooner he finds out the truth behind his former captain's alleged sacrifice of his own squad members, the better it would be for all parties concerned.




Day 3 of Month 5: Lindela, District 16


Fiona made her way inside the District Hall with a pace matching the urgency of her reason for visit. Along the way she asked a few knights for direction and was told where she needed to go. They had just finished rebuilding district Twenty-One and it was time for them to move on to another district. With the damage assessment in hand, Fiona turned the knob of the door and walked right in.

"Fionaaaa!!"

The dark-haired female knight turned to the direction of the voice, only to be surprised when she got smothered by a hug. A matter of seconds was all it took for Fiona to ease up when she realized who it was.

"Nat, it's good to see you too. Have you been well?"

With ruby eyes almost tearing up, and given the way Natalia looked at Fiona, the latter could only surmise that her female squad mate must have had a rough time. "It's been days!" the blonde exclaimed, "It's been days since I saw anyone from our squad, Fiona! You can't even begin to imagine how much I was beginning to miss you guys!"

Now that she mentioned it, Fiona found herself wondering again about her other squad mates. Truth be told, she too has not seen or heard from anyone else aside from her Captain sending her a missive with orders; there wasn't even a shred of friendliness in that, just orders. She sighed, patting the blonde in the head. "I missed you too Nat, but with things as they are..."

"Yeah, I know. It's just..." Natalia looked back at her desk, dreading the amount of paperwork that was beginning to pile up.

"SO! I was told I would find the Chief Supply Officer here." Fiona scratched her head, "Where is that guy?" she wondered while looking around the cramped room they were in at the moment.

"Who told you that?!" there was a noticeable growl in Natalia's tone.

"S-some knights I passed on my way here. Why? Are you looking for him too?"

"Him?!"

The sudden increase in tone caught Fiona off-guard. Why was Natalia suddenly so upset? Was it something she said? "Nat...?"

"I AM the current Chief Supply Officer! Captain gave me this job! How dare they address me like a man!"

An apologetic grin lined Fiona's lips, followed by both hands raising slightly to claim innocence. Natalia simply huffed and walked back around her desk littered with paperwork. "The bunch you passed by were Lindelan Knights, they were asking if they could requisition building resources with a little excess on top—I denied them the excess."

This time, a curious look was evident in Fiona's eyes. She walked closer to Natalia's desk and took a seat. "Why would they do that? What did they say they need the excess resources for?"

"Home improvement they said." Natalia scratched her head, shuffling several documents together before binding them inside a folder, "I wouldn't mind giving them the extra resources they wanted but..." she sighed, "as it stands right now, I was specifically told to put a tight rope around things." she then picked up another set of documents and scanned them, "And I can understand why..." she added with a slightly depressed tone.

"That bad huh?" Fiona placed the damage assessment over some documents for Natalia to see, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to part with some of your precious resources too, but not in excess." she smiled as Natalia picked up the damage assessment report. The blonde read the report thoroughly before putting it down and grabbing another set of documents. Half an hour passed and Fiona found herself being amazed by the blonde female at how she could tell which document was which from the mayhem that was her desk surface. "You seem to have quite a handle on things here.." Fiona commented off hand, impressed by the fact that Natalia could make her work look easy.

Natalia simply looked at her and went back to finalizing the paperwork for Fiona's request, "I am Squad Eight's supply officer. The work is the same, this is just on a Grand Scale with Lindela being my Squad Eight." she proudly informed Fiona while attaching another document to Fiona's damage assessment report. "Here, take this to the Wyervia dockmaster—you'll find him in the clearing just outside the west gate."

"Wyervia? We're not using transport caravans anymore?" Fiona curiously asked.

"Nahh, it's too slow. I've ordered the retrofitting of some Wyervias for transporting resources to farther districts. You're going to District Twenty next right? A resource caravan would take too long to get there and your guys on site would just be wasting daylight waiting for it to arrive."

A smile of appreciation broke out of Fiona's lips at the knowledge. Truly, everyone involved was doing their best to help speed up the repairs of Lindela, even behind a desk and in front of loads and loads of paperwork, Natalia was still able to come up with ideas on how she could contribute to the effort. "I appreciate it Nat, thanks."

"Hey, no problem! Glad to help. Although, about the additional men requested... I could only provide you with the ones we have absolved in the past. I hope it's not going to be that much trouble considering they need hands-on supervision." Natalia fidgeted.

"No, they should be fine." Fiona assured the blonde, "They'd be under my supervision after all." she winked at Natalia. "I'll be on my way then. Thanks again Nat."

The doors closed behind Natalia and she once again found herself alone with her work. The blonde slumped back into her chair, letting out a long sigh. No matter how she tried to look at it, having to rely on those who were newly rehabilitated to help them rebuild wasn't a good sign at all. In fact, it was sad that those people—the ones they promised new life—were going to be used for manual labor; it felt like slavery. While there were Lindelans who volunteered to help, there were still a lot of them afraid to go back out there, stuck in the safe zones fidgeting, waiting—worrying about what's in store next for them. Half of the reason was because of the attack, the other half? Who could tell? Who could blame them?

With another sigh, Natalia grabbed a new set of damage assessment reports forwarded to her. No need to think about that now. The sooner they get Lindela back on its feet, the better it would be overall.





Day 3 of Month 5: Lindela, District 26


A group of knights carrying several crates of food supplies walked the busy streets of the district. Their destination was supposedly the best relief station/mess hall around. Two days ago, word spread like wildfire from both the knights and Lindelans taking refuge in the district alike. Apparently, there's this certain knight who could cook great food that many claimed to be able to fill both body and soul. Since then, District Twenty-Six had seen an increase in the flow of knights coming and going through the district, making sure to stop by at a certain restaurant before they rotated again. Lured by the promise of good food, Georg and his temporary men who worked tirelessly with the rebuilding efforts decided to give the place a try.

At first glance the joint did not seem to be anything special. However, the amount of knights and refugees coming and going was staggering—definitely more than the place could hold. Two brows that managed to rise on their own came down to normality as Georg and his men made their way onward. Just before the entrance, a knight had stopped them from continuing any further with their cargo and was directed to the back of the establishment, directly to where the kitchen was supposed to be. As the knights walked around back, Georg knocked on the door twice.

"Food Resupply as requested, where do you want these?"

"Come on in and set it down wherever! The place is packed so I can't attend to you." replied a voice from behind the door.

True enough, men in white littered the large kitchen, each of them expertly moving their hands chopping, grinding, stirring and all that in their respective stations. Picking a spot where their crates wouldn't be a nuisance to the people cooking, Georg and his boys set down their delivery. As soon as they stepped further into the kitchen, the smell of goodness wrapped around their noses. Upon closer inspection, the particular aroma that had been tingling their sense of smell appear to be coming from the center station. With the need to have his delivery signed for inventory purposes, Georg asked the nearest cook for the person in charge. Surprisingly enough, he was directed to the center station where one man was cooking something in a large cauldron.

"I need you to sign these for me."

"Sure thing, give me a min—" the man spun around in what seemed to be a moment of recognition, much to Georg's surprise.

Alfrei was the one in charge. Instead of his usual black and red armor, he was wearing white overalls, an apron and a chef hat to top everything off. "V-Vice Captain?! What in Light's name are you doing here?!"

Sighing at the question, Alfrei spun back into stirring his cauldron, "It is as you see. I'm cooking."

"Yes you are." Georg took another whiff of the scent coming from Alfrei's cauldron, "I know Lexi can cook but.. I didn't expect this."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Alfrei retorted, glaring at the older knight, "Just who do you think taught Lexi how to cook? Besides, there's more to the Altieri name than just swords, magic and fighting. This is just one of them."

"Clearly." Georg peered into the boiling cauldron, "So, what's this called? It smells really, really good."

A smug smile lined Alfrei's lips while he expertly stirred, "This is a family tradition passed down from six generations of the Altieri name, We call it Altieri Ensemble. You're right too about this being really good—the people outside can vouch for that."

"Yeah, you and your food are the talk of town!" Georg laughed. Enticed by the smell, the knight failed to suppress the rapidly growing hunger in his stomach. "Hey Vice Captain, we came a long way to get you your food supply, my men and I are famished. We'd like to get a bite before getting back to work."

Alfrei chuckled, "Yeah, I already knew you'd say that. Vlad said the same thing yesterday, and so did Joaquim two days ago."

Surprised, Georg cupped his chin in contemplation. It was rare for Vlad to beat him when it comes to places where food was good but for Joaquim? It was madness! "I can't believe Joaquim was the first one here!"

This time, it was Alfrei's turn to laugh. "I can't blame Joaquim for that you know? Given Lady Bianca's—"

"Chef Alfrei Altieri." Georg cut off the younger knight, "As unfortunate as Joaquim may be when it comes to tasty food, he loves his wife very much."

"My bad. Of course, I didn't mean any insult. Maybe I should teach Lady Bianca sometime?" the young Vice Captain suggested.

"That's better!" Georg patted the blonde by the shoulder, "So, where do we eat?"

With another sigh, Alfrei turned to one of his attendants, "Roy, find these good knights a table outside will you? Thanks!" and then back to Georg, "Just follow Roy, I'll join you shortly, break time is almost here."





Day 3 of Month 5: Gless, Grand Cathedral (Afternoon)


As much as Guilford wanted to continue working on his investigation, the cathedral bells tolled half past two in the afternoon. He was finally getting somewhere with the information he had learned from Omi's compilation when the memory of an appointment he had for the afternoon struck home. Wasting no time, Guilford neatly stacked the documents on his desk for later use and proceeded to the backroom for a quick bath. He would be having guests shortly, the least he could do was make sure he was presentable and not look exhausted while he was at it. The male Seraph had just finished putting on something formal when a knock on the door pulled his attention to it.

"Master Guilford, your guests are here."

"Please, come in."

Moments later, a scribe ushered two individuals into Squad Eight quarters and gently closed the door behind them. Guilford was attentively standing near one of the couches in the center of the room, welcoming the two with a warm smile.

"Lady Bianca, it has been a while." he bowed as he greeted the woman, extending his right hand to offer one of the vacant couches to his guests. Bianca bowed in return, "Yes it has." she smiled politely, "Master Guilford, I'm sorry that me and my husband had to ask this of you but..." she trailed off, towing her eleven-year-old to the couch as both of them sat, "I know you're very busy so... I'm sorry for the trouble." she rephrased herself, bowing another one in apology.

Guilford simply smiled, "To make the time for our future is something I would never regret, Lady Bianca. It is my genuine honor to do this not just for you and Joaquim but for the kids as well." he looked at the apologetic woman sincerely, "I trust arrangements with the other parents for this trip have gone smoothly?" Guilford asked.

Bianca smiled sheepishly, "Not as smooth as you would like to think Mater Guilford, but I guess the other parents also had the same trouble I had with little Jessiah here so they conceded. A lot of the other kids have been eager about their class field trip and it was a big letdown for them when..." she chose not to continue at the Seraph's prompt. "The other kids are downstairs with their teacher."

"Very good. Let me just introduce myself to this young lad before we head out." he said, turning to Jessiah who had wide eyes staring at him all the time.

"And you must be Jessiah." Guilford straightened himself, right fist snapping to the middle of his chest as he saluted the young boy. The awestruck Jessiah struggled to respond to the salute until he managed a sloppy one after a few attempts. A smiling Guilford walked towards him and knelt before the young one. "You've grown big, haven't you?"

"Y-Yes sir! I want to become a knight someday!" Jessiah proudly announced his dream.

"Is that so?" Guilford turned to look at Bianca who only nodded in confirmation, "Well then Knight Jessiah, my first lesson for you is how to salute properly." he chuckled, "Now, feet together and stand strong," he instructed the young boy,"then form a fist with your right hand and put it to your chest like so." Guilford showed him how, "Alright! Now you try it."

In one go, Jessiah executed the perfect salute. A satisfied Seraph stood up and returned the gesture. "There we go. You're already a fine knight in my eyes." he chuckled lightly, watching Jessiah's eyes brim with happiness. "Are you and your classmates ready for the tour?"

"Will we see Master Lethe too?" an eager Jessiah asked the Seraph.

Guilford tried his hardest not to show Jessiah any uncertainty with his features after getting asked about a chance to meet his female counterpart. Of course Lethe was busy, as was he not too long ago. This tour was already something he had to force into his tight schedule, he wouldn't want to break Lethe's itinerary for the day as well. "I'll tell you what, Master Lethe is quite busy at the moment so she wouldn't be able to join the tour," Jessiah's enthusiasm dropped a little, "so instead of her coming along with us, let's just go visit her before we end the tour okay?"

"Yes! Okay!" the young kid sprang back to life.

"Alright then," Guilford glanced at Jessiah's mom, "Lady Bianca, if you could follow us please."

_________________

[[Day 4 of Month -3 :: The Grand Cathedral, Gless]]

“Good job, brother.” Despite the sincere words, Konan still looked troubled as she scanned over the purple-haired man. There were no wounds--he’d been with Grisia, after all--but the stress lines on his face belied the strain he’d been under the past few days. “Should you be here? It might be better to rest. . .”

Cricket seemed not to hear her as he stared solemnly at the doors in front of him. They were mostly opened by now but not fully, not yet.

So there was another use, a better use, to his Light’s Blessing. It could do more than just summon Sinners to himself. Grisia had shown there were benefits to his current Light’s Blessing…

a stack of Pure Sinner and Reaper corpses framing the entranceway…
Confused, newly redeemed Tethelites wandering aimlessly in the courtyard

...but he wanted more.

“Papa! Papa!” “Patricia!” “Konan!”

“Brother..” A hesitant voice called him, prompting him to open eyes he didn’t remember closing. Konan looked at him tentatively, uncertainty lurking in her brown gaze. She was biting her nails in worry; it was a habit he’d long despaired of curing her of. There was a pang in his heart as he realized--remembered--he never would be able to. Even if she stood beside him here in his mindscape, she wasn’t really there.

Unconsciously, his hands reached out to draw her fingers away from her mouth before pulling her close. Burying his nose in her hair, he could smell the faint reminder of her shampoo. The sensation of her in his arms was one still etched in his memory. It would probably always be engraved there.

His arms dropped back to his sides. He stepped away to meet her confused gaze. “Brother..?” She repeated, aware he’d made some decision but unsure of what.

“I love you, Konan.”

The words seemed to confuse her further but she repeated truthfully, gaze softening with wistfulness, “I love you too, brother.”

Cricket pivoted to face the doors in front of him. Captain Abel had said opening these would unlock his Light’s Blessing. Grisia had hinted that there was more to come when he’d finally fully opened them. It was time to overcome his hesitation and welcome in the Light.

“..martyrs for the cause? They died for our sakes? We must carry on their will?” The old man groused, raising his voice for his assistant to hear him. Piercing black eyes slid in Lethe’s direction and with a harrumph, Councilor Laith beckoned her in. Lethe turned her head to look at the retreating assistant, his arms overflowing with papers, and then returned her attention to the Councilor.

“For the attack on Lindela?” The petite woman inquired politely, her own feelings on the subject hidden beneath the ritual of pleasantries. It didn’t surprise her that the old man was trying to spin the aftermath of the battle into propaganda; to be frank, she was more surprised that he was still trying to come up with ideas five days later. She would have expected him to be pumping out materials the day after, especially given how he’d already had her touring Gless and Lindela in attempts to shore up morale.

The old man scoffed in disgust even as he settled into his uncomfortable wooden chair. “No, trying to figure out how to make throwing away the lives of seven veteran Knights sound glorious.” He shuffled the papers in front of him as he searched for the documents he needed for this meeting.

“Pardon? Throwing away the lives of seven veteran Knights?” Lethe parroted in confusion. Why were they throwing away the lives of seven veteran Knights? She couldn’t think of any circumstance why such a thing would happen. Even Sinners were absolved; what crime could those men and women have committed to warrant death?

“The other Councilors have decided to launch an offensive against Sin.” Laith ignored how Lethe straightened in surprise. She had been out giving another speech when the Council had convened. leaving only him, Cornelius, and Guilford as voices of reason. It seemed the other Seraph hadn’t been informed yet of the results of that meeting.

A look of displeasure crossed her face as she realized she had been excluded from a council meeting again. “I assume Guilford is leading the attack?” It was reasonable to conclude that if she’d been selected, she would have been informed in a less off-chance fashion. “But not with his Squad Eight?”

The Councilor shook his head, replying sourly, “Not Squad Eight or Guilford. Mihai believes the veterans are more skilled to face the God of Sin.”

Lethe blanched at the words. Facing the God of Sin? And only seven Knights? Her brain tried to order the thoughts running around wildly. The Councilors wanted to launch an offensive against the God of Sin? And with only seven knights?! That wasn’t even a full squad! Had they gone mad? Had a decade of peace made them forget how many Knights had stood on the final battlefield? Veterans or not, the selected Knights would not have faced the God of Sin headfirst on open plain. After all, only two had crawled away from that confrontation. Three now, with the God of Sin’s return.

The reminder of the cause for this hasty offensive cooled Lethe’s disbelief. Histrionics wouldn’t serve her here. Somehow she and Guilford would have to convince the Council of their folly. At least it sounded like Laith supported her opposition to this plan. Cornelius probably hadn’t wanted this either, which left the other Councilors. This was exactly why they hadn’t revealed the God of Sin’s return to the others originally; it must have slipped out somehow in the chaos of Lindela’s attack.

“Seven Knights..” Her fingers tapped against her forehead thoughtfully as she mulled the few facts she had, “and Gil..” She paused, her head turning up with brows furrowed as she remembered the rest of Laith’s words, “No, you said not Gil.. Am I leading them?” Her disbelief stemmed from the lackadaisical manner she’d been informed rather than their decision to send her.

A sharp shake of the head answered her query. “Captain Abel.”

What little equilibrium Lethe had collected slipped out of her control once more, as did the color in her face. Captain. . . Abel. . . ? To lead seven Knights in a suicidal charge against the God of Sin? An ancient spell said to cause miracles. By draining. . . The image of ancient text printed on faded sheets flashed in her mind even as Lady Mei’s words echoed ominously, “The seal appears to be a bastardized combination based on the Sikem, Laud, Nol, and Vlatko seals . . . with emphasis on containment, prohibition, and servitude.”

“Died.. or sacrificed?” She whispered the damning question Lady Mei had asked even as her mind recalled the image of the sketched seal. Her mind’s eye could imagine the other two anchors to complete the long forgotten spell: La gamme.

“What did you say?” Blue eyes flashed up in surprise to meet a suspicious gaze. Laith was frowning thunderously at her, hands pressed flat against his desk as if ready to push him to his feet. For a long second, Lethe considered the merits of sharing her suspicions. Could she, in good conscience, send seven Knights off with her former Captain when questions lingered over the spell he’d used to seal Eve away? servitude. equivalence. exchange. The hairs on her arms and neck were already raising in trepidation. No, she would never let any of her Knights go under his command if he’d use them so callously. But would he? Captain Abel had never been genial to her, but she could see glimpses of the warmth he buried away in how he’d treated Gil, Ingram, and Estella. Would he treat those Knights assigned to him like he had her or like he had Gil? “Well?” The demand broke through her circling thoughts, warning her she’d been silent for too long.

“Nothing,” Lethe finally demurred as her gaze lifted to meet the Councilor’s. “Please excuse my inattention. I was thinking of another matter.” A contrite smile added to her appearance of apology. “Even with Captain Abel’s guidance, I don’t think an offensive against the God of Sin is advisable. Perhaps I can speak with the Councilors and find an alternative to whatever is bothering them?” A stony gaze rebuffed her attempt to change the subject but after a long period of silence, more than poignant enough to indicate Laith’s disbelief, the old man allowed the previous matter to drop. Turning her attention to the new topic, Lethe faked interest in the subject even as she rearranged her mental priority list. Meeting Gil had just jumped to number one.

“I can’t believe she’s being so stingy.. Ugh, women! It’s not like we asked for that much extra. . .”

Dietrich laughed nervously to fill the silence, unwilling to contradict his companion. He was passive by nature and the circumstances surrounding his return to consciousness had simply made him more meek. Brown eyes slid away from the Knights he was with at the memory. In all of District Thirty Two, he was the only survivor. He swallowed convulsively; out of a district worth of people, only one still lived: him. His hands itched to rub against a wound but there was none--no missing limb, no life-threatening gash, not even a scratch. It had, understandably, caused much suspicion among the others. Why had only he lived?

Was he a traitor?

No one spoke such accusations aloud but he could feel them in the sidelong looks and heavy silences when he walked by. Dietrich couldn’t blame them. He had no idea why he was alive when everyone else had died. Luck? Reason?

Cold settled around him at the thought his survival was purposeful. Was there a greater, malicious reason for his survival?

“Well, we’ll have to make deal with what we have then.” Something was thrust into his chest and the veteran Knight blinked down in confusion to see a hand plastering a paper to his breastplate. “Hey man, can you go get these supplies?” Mitchell smiled apologetically even as he slowly edged away. “Donald just reminded me about that rumor about District Twenty Six. I’m sure the food’s as terrible as everywhere else but it doesn’t hurt to check and see how exaggerated the rumors are, ya know?” His smile invited Dietrich to join in on his amusement even as he left the brown-haired man standing in the middle of the road alone. The other members of their group were already walking away, one boasting loudly of how good the food in the other District had been. “The supply depots should have short lines right now so it’s best to get the lumber now if we don’t want to be waiting all afternoon.” Mitchell was five steps away by now with the distance just widening. “We’ll get you some as well!” With that inconsiderate promise, the man turned and ran after the other two Knights in their crew.

Dietrich stood dumbly in the middle of the road as his companion retreated down the street and around the corner towards District Twenty Six. Now that he thought about it, he did remember hearing something about amazing food being available in that District. For a moment, he considered the merits of following Mitchell and the others before he discarded the thoughts with a sigh. If they didn’t want to spend time with him, he didn’t want to force himself on them. Clenching his hand around the paper, probably authorization for the supplies they needed, the brown-haired man forlornly continued his journey. Mitchell was right when he said the supply depots were probably mostly deserted given the lunch hour; he could get the materials quickly and haul them back to their construction site before the others returned. He would just need to remember to get some bread sometime in between. Mitchell would probably forget to bring him the promised takeaway, just like the other four times.

“Welcome to the main conference hall.” Guilford pushed the giant doors open, leading the way into the large function hall used mainly to host important meetings for the Immaculate. “Feel free to take a look around.” He urged as he ushered the kids in, watching them as their eyes marveled upon the simplistic yet practical design of the hall. In contrast, it appeared that the class teacher and Lady Bianca felt it improper if they joined the fuss though their roving eyes made clear they too wanted to have a look around. “Please, I am well aware that you both are married to knights. Take this opportunity to get to know the workplace of your husbands.” The Seraph offered with a kind smile. They needed no other encouragement.

“This conference hall can comfortably hold a maximum of one hundred people at seating capacity. This is where important matters unrelated to the military are often held for discussion. Your town governors, sometimes some noblemen, and even worker unions are the ones who often frequent this hall to discuss issues with the High Council.”

“What sort of ‘matters’ Master Guilford?” a brainy, spectacled kid asked out loud.

Turning in the direction of the young one, Guilford smiled. “Town expansions, improvements, economic status of the islands, workforce allocation, resource management, population control—I can go on and tell you more but I think it would be best to do so once you’ve grown a little older.”

“In short kids, this is one big math hall where leaders do a lot of number crunching.” Their class teacher instinctively swooped in to save the Seraph from her student and impress the importance of their education on the children. Her words elicited a bored and disappointed sigh from the lot of them.

“Awww! We wanted to see where knights plan their missions!” One student complained petulantly.

Amused, the Seraph folded his arms above his chest, “Is that so?” Guilford hummed thoughtfully, “Well then, if that’s the case, we should head to one of the Cathedral’s Squad Quarters.” He looked over the kids before adding with a teasing lilt, “Would you like to see where Master Lethe and her squad plans their missions?”

The enthusiastic and unified roar was answer enough for the Seraph. “Alright then, follow me. We’re going upstairs.”

“It’s so terrible what happened down there. . .”

“more bandages, more cloths, and get some additional herbs. We’ll also need. . .”

The chatter of the Cathedral washed over her, a meaningless background hum compared to the thoughts roiling around in her brain. Lethe had finally excused herself from her meeting with Councilor Laith and was now en route to Guilford’s squad quarters.

“Look! Isn’t that?!”

The childish squeal caught her attention if only due to its unusual exuberance. Given what had transpired just days ago, most were too subdued for such levels of excitement.

“I think it is!” was the equally enthusiastic reply and her senses tingled in warning: someone was looking her way. She turned her standard smile in that direction and waved politely even as she continued walking.

”Ah! Master Lethe, what excellent—”

“Master Lethe!!”

Abrupt as it may have been that his train of words had been cut off, Guilford couldn’t fault the kids for getting overly excited to be in the presence of the White Seraph. He watched the young ones flock around the female Knight even before he could make it to a more comfortable speaking distance. “...timing.” he mouthed off pointlessly, if only for the sake of finishing his words.

“Not so popular with the kids now, are you?” Lady Bianca chided as she stood beside Guilford, watching the kids strive to get Master Lethe’s attention. There was truth behind her words too. How easily had they forgotten that he too was a Seraph and that he was the one giving them a tour not too long ago, perhaps an effect that could be attributed to Lethe’s constant presence at the center of public relationship campaigns. ”I’ll have to admit, I’m never really that good around them.” Guilford openly confessed, eliciting a lighthearted chuckle from Joaquim’s wife. “I can tell. Do you even plan on having kids, Master Guilford?” she couldn’t resist the urge to tease, much to the male Seraph’s embarrassment. ”I..uhh..I haven’t really given it much thought.” he scratched his head and looked away blushing. Bianca giggled at his reaction until both their attentions were pulled back to the present.

“Now, now kids, settle down. Remember, we’re here for the tour so let’s not try to cause any trouble for both Master Lethe and Master Guilford, okay?” the teacher reminded, easing her student’s exuberance.

When the kids finally calmed down, a relieved Guilford took the chance to step forward besides his former teammate. Seeing how this little tour of his had caught Lethe unexpectedly off-guard (though her professionalism undoubtedly hid it), he owed her an explanation. “Sorry about this, I know it’s not the most appropriate of times to be playing tour guide now of all times but I’m doing this as a favor for Joaquim and the kids…” he whispered, “and we were on our way to your squad quarters now… if you don’t mind.” He smiled at Lethe sheepishly, hoping that the other would be so accommodating as to allow them to intrude on her hospitality.

“Certainly, I was on my way to look for you anyways.” Lethe acquiesced with her standard smile, hands busy patting the heads crowding around her. “If I can have some of your time after you complete your tour?” She waited for Guilford’s nod before turning her attention back to the flock around her. “Hello everyone.” There was a chorus of greetings in response. “Welcome to the Cathedral. How are you liking your visit so far?” Thirty voices bombarded her and she laughed, hands gently herding the children to the side of the hallway and down it towards her squad quarters.

A noisy twenty later saw the group of children and adults in the quarters of Squad Ten. For better or for worse, the room was currently devoid of other occupants. With so many enthusiastic and curious minds to nourish, it had taken four times longer to reach their destination as the children invariably stopped to ask questions or admire the scenery. “And this is my squad quarters.” Lethe explained needlessly, waving a hand over the room. A twitch of her fingers settled privacy runes over the stack of papers on the table and the filing cabinets. “This is where my squad meets in between missions, plans new missions, and generally recover when we need a break. Why don’t you take a look around?” She offered at the sight of shiny eyes. The children needed no other prompting as they descended on the room like locusts on a harvest.

“Why exactly are they so interested in the room?” Lethe wondered in a low voice. The room looked like any other squad quarters to her; if anything, it looked a bit too casual given how her squad used it as a living room. The other squads, those who didn’t spend as much time in the Cathedral, tended to have smaller, plainer rooms, more dedicated to their purpose of mission planning. A female voice responded in a voice tinged with amusement: “I’m sure a large part of it is because it’s your room, Master Lethe.”

Blue eyes darted towards the speaker, their owner too trained to react more overtly. Lethe wouldn’t say she’d forgotten about the other two women, but it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say she’d dismissed them from her mind. From needing to speak with Guilford to suddenly playing tour guide/nanny, she was still a bit discombobulated by the sudden shift. “Excuse me, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Eleanor,” the woman replied with a smile before indicating to the other woman, “and this is Bianca; she’s helping me chaperone.”[/color]

Unease flickered in Lethe’s eyes but the sentiment was quickly hidden, “That’s a lovely name, Miss Eleanor. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” The other two women replied with equal pleasantness before Eleanor hurried forward at the sight of two children trying to jump onto a window ledge. “Children, stop!”

“They’re certainly a handful, aren’t they?” Bianca commented with a bemused smile, one eye on her own son. The young boy stiffened and sauntered away from the closed door with an innocent whistle, looking for all the world as if he wasn’t about to open the door and peer inside. “It’s just the storage closet.” Lethe murmured in a failed attempt to mitigate the other woman’s ire. Bianca maintained her stern look till she was sure Jessiah was no longer watching her and then dissolved into snickers. “He looks just like Joaquim like that, doesn’t he Master Guilford?”

“That he does.” Guilford replied with a smile. The only difference was that Joaquim had learned to tame his curiosity so that it rarely got the best of him, probably an effect of his years in service to the knighthood. Given all the horrors Knights had seen and faced, back during the First War, even the rookie Knights learned to dampen their inner children. To think that some, if not most, of the young kids here were aspiring to become knights someday… Guilford dismissed the grim thoughts. He shouldn’t crush their dreams; he had no right to do so.

Fifteen minutes later and the kids were finally acting like they were back in class. Their class teacher had the brilliant suggestion for the students to take the chance and ask questions from both Seraphs, and by the Light they had so many that it seemed like an endless session of question and answer. The boys, plus a select few of the girls, had more interest in battles, knight tactics, weapons and magic, and the chain of command. Those topics were easy enough for Guilford to answer so he took the honors of doing so. The rest of the young ladies were… a complicated group. Their queries ranged from Clerical work, scribe work, advocacy, and even Council work. Most of them seem to be interested in taking up the pen rather than the sword.

Another hour later and their tour finally drew to a close.

“Master Guilford, once again I would like to thank you and Master Lethe for accommodating our selfish request.” Eleanor bowed in gratitude, “On behalf of our school and these kids, thank you.”

“You are welcome. I can tell their cancelled field trip meant a lot to them.” Guilford chanced another look at the group of children waiting down the hall with Lady Bianca. “If anything, it is us who should apologize to them for not making this world a better place… even after all these years.”

“P-please don’t say that! All of us are aware of the responsibilities placed upon the knighthood. We know just how hard all of you had been working and we deeply appreciate all of your efforts.”

The sudden response caught Guilford off-guard. “Forgive me Lady Eleanor, I did not intend to sound so dreary. I just wish these kids could live a life where there’s no more need for us knights.” A melancholy smile gently curved the male Seraph’s lips.

“Don’t we all, Master Guilford?” A mirror smile found its way to Eleanor’s lips.

“Indeed. We’ll make it happen.” Guilford extended his hand for a shake, “Gloomy thoughts doesn’t seem to be the right way to end such a happy moment for the young ones don’t you think?” Eleanor gently shook the male Seraph’s hand, “If there’s anything else we could do for the kids and the school, know that all you need to do is send me a message directly.” He let go of the teacher’s hand, “I’d love to escort you and the kids out of the Cathedral personally but duty calls. I’ve arranged for a scribe and a squad of knights to escort you and the kids in my stead. They’ll help you take each of the kids home.”

“But that’s not necessary! We could—”

“The kids would love it.” the Seraph insisted.

“Thank you Master Guilford. Thank you truly.”

When the group was no longer in his sights, Guilford breathed a sigh of relief and turned his way back into Lethe’s squad quarters, knocking twice and waiting for acknowledgement before coming in. It was back to the real world for him, back to where he had a mountain of issues to deal with. He loosened his formal coat (that had been threatening to choke him the entire visit) before finding himself a comfortable spot on one of the couches, deflating in a manner that hinted his exhaustion.

He sighed once before resigning himself to being a Seraph once more. “You said you needed to speak with me?”

Lethe leaned against the back of the sofa, head cocked curiously to the side. Why was Guilford so depressed? They’d just spent an hour with the children; their enthusiasm seemed contagious as her lethargy from earlier had fled. Those children, and the countless others among the islands, were the reason they fought after all: for the future. She reached a hand out, arm straight to the tip of her finger, and poked the prone man in the face. “You’ll get wrinkles,” she chided with a faint smile.

Wrinkles? Hardly at the top of his worries; everyone got them when they grew old. If anything, it would be nice to be old enough to get wrinkles… Guilford inhaled sharply in an attempt to gather his drifting thoughts; Lethe had always been too good at distracting him.

“The Council plans to act against the God of Sin?” And that was definitely one way to check reality back in. The Council’s poorly planned idea had been chipping away at him ever since his impromptu meeting with Cornelius. “Seven Knights and Abel.” Disapproval soured her expression before melting into worry, “Is it safe?”

Was it ever safe to act against the God of Sin, he wondered in a sudden bout of cynicism. They even had a group of blockheads who had no idea what they were facing throwing their weight around in a pointless attempt to look proactive. There was nothing safe in this ridiculous operation.

Then again, the real question Lethe wanted answered wasn’t regarding the God of Sin. It was Abel.

“Got an ear for tragic stories?” he answered her question with one of his own, leaning back into the couch. He may as well be comfortable for the upcoming story. “Because ‘Seven Knights and Abel’ revolves around it.”

“Your scribe,” he tried to tease her in an attempt to inject some levity into the impending tragedy, “did a wonderful job of digging up old records.” Guilford had to admit that he was rather impressed at the skill that redhead scribe possessed; where exactly had she found him again? “Thanks to not only official records of old but personal correspondence as well, I was able to further my investigation to the point where Abel lost two of his knights in the final battle against Eve.”

The Knight released a long sigh, purple eyes glancing in his companion’s direction. Lethe had taken a seat as well, legs crossed and hands resting loosely on the chair’s arms. She looked almost regal with her emotionless face: a monarch waiting to pass judgment. Despite not being the one on trial, Guilford looked away to stare forward once more.

“I don’t think Abel intended to sacrifice anyone.” The intensity of Lethe’s gaze sharpened.

When it became clear Guilford didn’t intend to say anything more, the white Seraph finally prompted: “Why?” Guilford claimed Abel hadn't intended to but she'd seen the seals transcribed by Lance. Their intent was incongruous with her companion’s claim.

“Why…” Guilford repeated the question that had forced him to spend hours reading old mission logs and poorly scribed letters. .“Because the two who died were his lover and his cousin.” He had no cousin but he’d had one he’d considered kin--the thought of sacrificing Ricaud or, he couldn’t keep his eyes from darting towards the white-haired woman at this thought, Lethe was too much for him to bear. He never would; he couldn’t even imagine Abel doing so, and both no less.

The blue-haired Seraph straightened in his seat, forcing himself to focus on other things. It would do no good to get lost in such thoughts. He pulled out a worn piece of paper, unfolded it, and laid it on the coffee table. “Come here,” he beckoned, “Take a look at this.” His fingers traced down the side the paper to draw Lethe’s attention to the words written there. “This is probably the original methodology for La Gamme.”

It was a very, very powerful piece of paper. Guilford had realized it as soon as he laid eyes on the contents and for various reasons, immediately opted to keep it on his person. “Yves Linser, former Vice Captain of Squad Seven and a Pure like Fiona, was the owner of the diary where I got this from.. According to Yves, to help Abel realize his dreams of peace, she taught him La Gamme, one of the, if not the most, powerful arcane arts deemed Miraculous. How they intended to use La Gamme, and its true effect, remains a mystery—one that could be solved by directly asking the people involved.” There was no reaction from his audience so Guilford pointed to the part of the paper where numbers and symbols had been written.

“If you look at the calculations here, just by the utterly tremendous amount of magic needed by the spell, it becomes clear that no human being—even if they had abnormally large magic reserves—would be able to pull it off..” He eyed the white-haired knight beside him; a small furrow broke the previous impassivity of her expression as she puzzled over the paper before her. “unless they used an enhancer of some sort: a catalyst[/].” he paused, “But what or where is this catalyst? I don’t know. The answers to either questions weren’t included in the diary.”

The admission, and the ensuing silence, finally forced the white-haired woman to speak. “I don’t.. this…” She struggled to find the right words. "You're right that by these calculations, no human could power a [i]La gamme of the magnitude used to capture Eve. However, the truth remains somehow it was done. If two Knights and the unknown catalyst could contain Eve, can tripling that stop the God of Sin?”

She wondered aloud in disbelief. The question hung there like a tantalizing wisp of hope before a soft scoff shattered it. "Who are we kidding? The God of Sin won't die to La Gamme.” The finality of those words held an unusual sense of--Guilford wasn’t quite sure what, so foreign was such an emotion given Lethe’s normal demeanor. She continued speaking before he could put his finger on it.

“But does Captain Abel know that?" And this time, the urgency was clearly identifiable, "He’s already accomplished the improbable once. Does he think he can accomplish the impossible? You said the fact the two sacrificed were his--Vice Captain” even now she skirted around the issue, “and cousin meant it wasn’t intentional. In this, we must accept the possibility for the worst. If it had been intentional, would seven innocent lives matter to him? What else may be sacrificed to stop the God of Sin?"

“Lethe.” He chided, voice unusually harsh given who he was speaking with. “No human being could have the magical reserves necessary to pull off La Gamme,” Guilford returned back to the earlier topic, “However, if you substituted life force instead of magical power…” Another piece of paper, crisper for having not been created a decade and a half ago, was placed on the table. “Assuming the catalyst is just as effective with life force as it is magical reserves…” The answer was written plainly at the bottom of the paper, “It would only take one healthy human being.”

Blue eyes stared at him defiantly and Guilford sprung to his feet, stalking away to one of the windows to stare at the knights moving about the courtyard. “With that in mind, this is where it gets… telling. From the post-conflict reports written by Fenix and the others, during that battle against Eve, things were going very poorly.” He paused, folding both arms across his chest, “Near the end of the battle, when Squad Seven was facing certain defeat, Abel ordered the entire squad to retreat as he bought them time.” he chanced a look at the female Seraph, “Why do you think he did that?”

The flat look Lethe sent Guilford’s way made it clear she was unamused with the rhetorical question. Regardless, he would continue with the rest of his story.

“Because he was ready to sacrifice himself—use La Gamme with his own life to defeat Eve and save the rest of Squad Seven.” Guilford theorized, “But two knights understood what he was really planning to do: his cousin and Yves.”

It had always been a taboo in Squad Seven to dredge up the past. Now it became clear to Guilford why almost every member of his former squad had a tendency to avoid talking about their past, whether it was personal history, or squad history… especially squad history. “What really transpired during those final moments, I cannot really say. All I found out was that Yves Linser and Abel saw each other romantically, much like how Nigel walked the one way street to Yves.” Guilford concluded, “Which leaves one to wonder, did Abel really sacrifice them to seal Eve, or did they sacrifice themselves so that Abel could live?” The blue-haired Seraph turned to look at his fellow squadmate. “You know which one I think. Why do you think otherwise?”

Faced with such an accusation, Lethe felt herself turning away. It took a moment to gather herself but when she turned back, determination was clear in her eyes. “Because the seal structure doesn’t lie. Regardless of the relationships between the three, the facts remain that the seal structure Abel used relied heavily on seal scriptures that are either forbidden or generally avoided because they deny the target of free will.” The evenness of her tone did not hide the vehemence she felt. “Sikem is a seal that was based on a Pure Sinner’s works. The Lokian script similarly can derive its origins from seal masters that all died from their experiments or ended up in Sin’s thrall. And let’s not mention the other influences that ended up in the final seal array. So indeed I wonder, if a seal relies heavily on containment, servitude, and Nol, whose sole use is to inhibit the victim’s resistance, who sacrificed who?”

“Only the Divine Light can answer that.” Guilford huffed in distaste. He still was of the belief Abel hadn’t intended to sacrifice Yves and Nigel but couldn’t explain why the seal structure was the way it was. Lethe clearly thought otherwise but was dismissing the relationships between Abel, Yves, and Nigel, which any reasonable person would consider. “Or Abel,” he offered dryly, observing the way Lethe tensed slightly at those words.

Can we trust Abel’s words though? The white-haired Knight was tempted to ask but she kept the words unspoken. Some things didn’t need to be aired like dirty laundry, not even with her longest comrade.

“Look, despite the obvious evidence that screams sacrifice from all angles, I want to make sure we’re not missing anything before we pass judgment.” Guilford explained softly, “I know Abel’s methods may be somewhere near the extremes—or well beyond it--but I just can’t bring myself to think...” he paused, one hand coming up to rub his temples that were starting to ache, “It’s not like I trust him fully. No, nothing like that, at least not until this gets resolved. I just don’t want to give up on the fact that everything he does, he does for a good reason.”

Lethe sighed as well, her own resistance tempered by Guilford’s admission. The two had had different experiences with the old Captain: Gil had always been one of Abel’s favorite while she and those close to her had not been so fortunate. Yes, Abel was relatively fair, but no, Abel was not always kind. “I don’t doubt that he always does things for a good reason,” She conceded wearily, one hand going to rub her face, “But I worry what he’ll forsake, accidentally or intentionally, to accomplish those good goals.”

The male Seraph lowered his hand, blinking a few times to clear his vision, “After everything Abel has gone through, all of the things he has done in service of the knighthood, excluding this incident, I should give him the benefit of the doubt.”[color] He paused to look at the other Knight, [color=#0080FF]“We should give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserves that much at least, don't you think?”

“We’ve all gone through a lot Guilford Rosenwulf,” Lethe corrected sharply, the moment of ire seceding to exasperation. “However, that doesn’t give any of us the right to throw away the lives of others.” Despite her words, she stepped away from the couch she’d been leaning against and headed for the door. Letting Guilford pass her, she heaved one last sigh before closing the door shut.

“Master Guilford, Master Lethe,” the old knight started with a placid greeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We need to talk.”

Abel raised a brow in slight surprise at the bluntness of Guilford’s tone and then turned over to the disapproving Lethe. He may not know his former subordinate well, but he’d seen enough unhappy women to spot the telltale signs. “Is this about the expedition?” Abel inquired lightly, eyes sharpening as he looked at Guilford, “Did the two of you come to stop us from going down there? Because I’m pretty sure a council vote supersedes Seraph authority.”

“No, we didn’t come to stop you from going down there.” Guilford replied, feeling his irritation rise from his Captain’s unwarranted accusation, “It’s about your suitability as the appointed leader for that expedition.”

Lethe looked at the two men in front of her, finally starting to understand Daria’s utter irritation with men and the male species in general. Guilford had been so passionate in his defense of Abel in front of her and now seemed so hostile. And men complained women had mood swings! “What Guilford means is that we have some questions we would like your help in answering, Captain Abel. Now is a good time, I assume?” Despite the phrasing, the order was more than evident.

The clarification was more than welcome. Guilford hadn’t intended to respond so bitingly and yet couldn’t help but feel he’d been entirely justified in making clear their doubts about Abel’s capabilities, especially after Abel’s jibe. Composing himself, the Knight nodded stiffly, “It is as Lethe says.”

Suspicious eyes surveyed them but Lethe’s attempt at civility had tempered Abel’s initial irritation. “I’m just about done with my final preparations.. Now is a good time.” he mustered the best smile he could, minute though it was, to his lips, “how may I be of service?”

“Yves Linser and Nigel d’Arques.” It was Lethe’s turn to be blunt, secure in the privacy runes she’d casted around them. “Both died in combat under your leadership in the fight that led to Eve’s containment. However, they didn’t die until after you commanded a withdrawal. We want to know what happened.”

The question caught Abel off-guard in all manners. He had a deal with Eunice! In exchange for the truth, he had asked that the records be kept a secret. How did these two come to know of those names? The expression on Abel’s face darkened, “What’s this about?” he stalled, although he already had an ominous feeling of what was to come.

“La Gamme.” Guilford stared at the old knight with questioning eyes.

A sigh of defeat escaped Abel’s lips. Never in this lifetime had he expected anyone to confront him about that tragedy, especially not these two who had never inquired much about Squad Seven’s history, even after their initial recruitment. “I don’t have a choice in this do I?”

Guilford shook his head mutely.

Brown eyes surveyed the resolute faces before him and Abel surrendered himself to the inevitable. “Follow me then. Let’s not talk about this here.”

The walk through Gless was quiet, all three Knights undoubtedly caught up in their own thoughts. Their winding path was unfamiliar for the younger two, despite having spent a decade on the island, and sadly too familiar for the eldest. Finally they were in front of a rundown, nearly crumbling mausoleum: neglected, if it were to be described with a single word.

Lethe examined the building with a mix of detachment and curiosity. She’d never seen it before but its purpose seemed obvious: a resting place. An eerie serenity, similar to that of Eiji’s cemetery’s, lingered in the air. Unlike her former squadmate’s resting spot, this place did not seem so well maintained. What was Abel’s objective in bringing them here? Her attention returned to the old man when he forced the large doors of the mausoleum open.

“What is this place?” Guilford broke the silence, unable to reign in his own curiosity.

“The d’Arques Mausoleum, the last structure still standing tied to the family name.” Seemingly unphased by the lonely confession, Abel casually strode into the building.

Guilford looked at Lethe once before following suit. What was Abel’s reason for bringing them here? What did he want to show them? Guilford paused at the entrance, immediately noticing the numerous niches that lined both sides of the single path that led to an altar. Already, Abel was halfway down the corridor, prompting the male Seraph to continue in. Upon closer inspection as he walked by, Guilford realized that there was a common denominator among the niches: every single one of them belonged to a d’Arques. Was Abel’s whole bloodline in here? Guilford didn’t know what to feel about it.

Lethe glanced at Guilford curiously when he stopped but she slipped around him, more intent on the living d’Arque than the dead ones. Surely Gil had been to a cemetery before; this one was just a bit more “house of death” than “plot of land of death.” With a shake of her head, she forced her mind back to the topic at hand. When they came to a stop in front of two tombs, blue eyes read the labels curiously: Nigel d’Arques and Yves Linser. The missing pair had been found.

When the silence stretched long around them, Lethe finally challenged:“And your point is?” Guilford may believe in Abel’s innocence, but she knew how deceiving appearances could be.

The old knight eyed the White Seraph, taking note of the tone of her voice, “An introduction.” he answered truthfully, “It would be rude to talk about people, dead or not, without actually meeting them first wouldn’t you agree?”

Guilford couldn’t tell if Abel was simply teasing Lethe or was lecturing her in manners. Still, Abel’s claim of introducing them to Yves and Nigel (despite the two of them being dead) could be taken in a way that meant the old knight was ready to talk about them.

The silence returned.

“Before we start, I’d like to know how the two of you stumbled upon La Gamme and these two,” Abel requested.

A glance towards Guilford made clear he wasn’t planning to answer. Lethe also had no desire to explain just yet. “Captain Abel,” Lethe tried to keep her voice from sounding too sharp, achieving a detached coolness: “We may answer to the Council but we do not to you. If we are satisfied with your answer, we may tell you but that will be at our discretion and not yours.” She turned her gaze away from Abel towards the two tombs instead, keeping the older man in her peripheral vision. “Now, what happened?”

So that’s how it was now? His former subordinates pulling rank on him? Abel felt himself bristle at the discourtesy. He swallowed down his irritation; he had been the one to turn down the Seraph title when it had been offered. Perhaps this was just another consequence of that choice. A deep breath calmed him enough to dismiss his lingering resentment so he could focus enough to recall the particular moment in question. “Am I right to assume that you two already know the events leading up to when it was just the three of us against Eve?”

“Somewhat.” Guilford responded, tone a notch lower than the only female with them.

“From the records of former Squad Seven, I assume?” he received a nod from Guilford for confirmation. “Well then, those are accurate. I ordered them to write it as they saw and heard.” Abel shifted in his spot and rested his back on one of the tombs, “I used La Gamme to seal Eve.” he admitted, “But I did not sacrifice them for it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The skeptical looks were testament to the fact they had thought that, or at least considered it.

”Do you really think we’ll just take your word for it? We’ve seen your La Gamme, and compared to the original one.” Guilford showed Abel the paper he had extracted from Yves’ diary, “yours looks rather different.”

The color drained from Abel’s face at the sight of the paper in Guilford’s hand. There was no mistaking it; that was Yves’ handwriting right there. “Yes, what you have right there is the ‘correct’ way to cast La Gamme,” he began, “but our circumstances at that moment were not favorable, and Yves had not given me the Catalyst for La Gamme.” He averted his eyes from Guilford. “I was determined to give up my life in exchange for Eve’s but…” he trailed off, a remorseful expression now visible on his features, “..I was not strong enough.”

"Did you really think your life was enough?" Lethe cast a look between the sorrowed man and the diary, "Yves' calculations made it clear that one life wouldn't work."

The sorrow transformed into bitterness, “You don’t get it do you?” Abel retorted, “The calculations meant nothing to begin with!” There was a noticeable rise in his tone, “All it proved was that without the catalyst, La Gamme could still be used in exchange for the caster’s life.” His tone dropped into monotony just as fast as it had rose, “It was not a guarantee. To us, La Gamme was a gamble—a small ray of hope, one that we chose to grab hold of.”

Horror descended upon Guilford at what he heard. It was a gamble? And yet they still chose to go through with it? “Are you telling us that none of you knew what the outcome would be?”

Abel took a sharp breath, composing himself before speaking again, “It is exactly as you say. We did not have the slightest idea of how the spell would react if used on Eve, who was not the actual intended target of the spell.”

"Then who was the intended target?" After a moment, horror painted the White Seraph’s face as well. "Are you crazy? Did you honestly think it would work?! If it was that easy, it would have happened long ago!"

“Just how many people do you think know of La Gamme?” Abel retorted to the female Seraph, “And just how many people do you think had the guts to stand up against the God of Sin?”

"Do you honestly think the Pure would not have known of it?" Lethe wondered in disbelief, "Now, most don't know it but back then La Gamme was a very common spell."

Abel turned away from the Lethe, “How far was back then? La Gamme was erased from common knowledge for a reason, and even among the Pure, its existence is a closely guarded secret.”

”But you two are getting off-track.” Guilfod interrupted loudly before Lethe could respond. If he had kept quiet, the two no doubt would have argued the technicalities and history of La Gamme before expanding into some larger socio-economic analysis of that time period and Light knew what other tangent. Given their penchants for book learning, sometimes he wondered how they hadn’t ended up as best of friends. Instead, they inevitably ended up clashing any time they were in the same room, especially when Lethe wasn’t controlling herself, like now. ”Who cares about its origin?” he deadpanned, “What I want to know is the reason why your La Gamme is so vastly different from the original, and what was Yves’ and Nigel’s role in it.”

The old knight forced himself to relax at Guilford’s timely intervention. Perhaps the other man had foreseen that sparks would undoubtedly fly between him and Lethe. Abel sighed again. Light knew he could never figure that one out, much less get close to her no matter how hard he tried. For some reason, there always seemed to be something that caused friction between them.

“Both of you should at least know this.” He returned to the original topic, “La Gamme is unlike any other spell. From the very beginning that you incant it, you have already signed a pact between yourself and the spell—absolute ownership.”

An expectant silence was his only response.

“I was ready to give up my life to use La Gamme on Eve, but Yves came back to try to stop me, saying there might be another way where I wouldn’t have to use La Gamme. I believed her and we tried but...” he paused as if lost in memory, “With Eve as our opponent, we were quickly robbed of that hope.” His audience maintained their silence and he felt his heart clench. How he wished he didn’t have to remember! “I finally managed to convince her that she had to let me use La Gamme, and in turn, she tried to buy me time while I prepared the spell, taking on Eve alone..”

Guilford noted the pained expression Abel wore while he recounted the events of that time, choosing not to say anything and just allowing the old knight to continue.

“She was more of a caster, one that did not possess that much skill with the sword.” Abel looked at Lethe but tore his gaze away immediately. In a way, the white-haired woman reminded him of Yves, if only for that distinct similarity in combat prowess. “It was only a matter of time before Eve overwhelmed her.”

“I’m guessing that was the point where Nigel made his appearance?”

Abel couldn’t answer right away, needing a moment with his thoughts before continuing. “Yes.” he finally confirmed, “When Yves was overwhelmed, Nigel jumped in just in time to take the fatal blow that was meant for Yves, using his own body as a shield. In that moment, he also gave us a window to counterattack by pinning down Eve with all his might.”

“A convenient turn of events.” Lethe remarked coolly, her scorn still audible under the forced indifference. Brown eyes sharpened on her in a blistering mix of disbelief and disgust. The white-haired Knight simply cocked her head to one side nonchalantly, seemingly ignorant of her provocation, as she waited for him to continue his tale.

Abel stared at the insolent woman in front of him. Did they truly think. . ? He turned his gaze towards Guilford and found a larger measure of sympathy there though caution also lurked in the purple gaze. They truly did not trust him. They wouldn’t have searched him out for this conversation otherwise.

“What exactly do you think I stood to gain by doing that?” He asked, defeated by both his memories and the lack of faith from his students. “The life I live now, I owe to these two—a debt I can never repay. Warping the truth would only serve to dishonor them and their noble sacrifice.”

While some aspects remained hazy, Guilford felt relief at those words from Abel. He’d always believed Abel could not have sacrificed his cousin and the love of his life.

“Taking advantage of the opening, Yves gathered every bit of magic she could and fired the most powerful spell in her arsenal. It sent the abomination reeling right into my hands… right where I had set up La Gamme.” Abel looked at the younger knights with him, “Containment, Restriction and Submission. I had to modify the magic circle using a Containment rune as the base. Adding Restriction runes, amplified by Submission runes, was in order to hold Eve in place once contained. That was the intended purpose for having those three runes incorporated in my La Gamme.”

“By doing that, you turned what would normally be a harmless magic circle into a trap… clever.” Guilford couldn’t help himself but be amazed that such a thing could even be done, another testament as to how far his knowledge of seals and runes went.

Abel simply looked at Guilford and dismissed the praise. “I was exhausted. A momentary lapse of judgement made me realize too late that I no longer had enough magic in me to maintain what had become a complex circle,” he explained. “By modifying La Gamme’s base and incorporating additional runes, I substantially increased the amount of magic it needed. Yves, who had been treating the gravely wounded Nigel, realized this and came to help.”

The new knowledge made Guilford wonder. If one of the prerequisites of casting La Gamme was that pact he made mention a while ago, “If Absolute Ownership dictates what I think it does, just how in the world did she help you when you were clearly the owner of the spell?”

“There is a way for one to intervene.” Abel paused, unsure if he should share the secret. However, a glance at the curious Guilford and untrusting Lethe made clear it wasn’t one he could omit. Rude or not, the Light needed to stand unified against the threat of Sin and it was clear right now at least one present didn’t trust him. “Unity and Servitude.”

A blank look was all he received from the male Seraph.

“By uniting herself with the caster, under the pledge of servitude to my will, Yves made herself a part of my spell,” he confessed.: “We were both ready to die if it meant taking Eve with us.”

“And Nigel?”

“He…” The old Knight trailed off, closing his eyes as he remembered, “..he forcefully took my place.” He swallowed harshly before finishing the tale, “he pushed me out of the circle and took my place.” His hand trembled to cover his face at the memory but he kept it clenched at his side, knowing too well that Lethe would take it as an expression of subterfuge. He needed them--her--to believe the truth, fantastical though it was. “We’re both d’Arques. He, Nigel, was always able to take over others’ spells.”

Guilford released the breath he’d been unconsciously holding, his tenseness melting away with that exhale. Abel was trustworthy after all. Purple eyes looked upwards to catch sight of his old Captain’s frame drooping with fatigue. One hand reached out to clasp the older man’s shoulder in a sign of reassurance and he turned with a grin to face the last member of Squad Seven. The grin died a quick death.

Unimpressed blue eyes bore into Abel; arms crossed over her chest made clear her suspicion if the frown on her face wasn’t testament enough. “As I said. Convenient.” Her voice was as sharp as broken glass and even Guilford could feel his hackles rise at the accusation implicit in her words. Abel clearly felt it as well given the man’s sudden stiffening.

“I’ve never taken you for one to be fond of seals, Captain Abel.” The title sounded more insult than respect with the way it dripped off her tongue, “That’s a lot of last minute, unplanned seal writing and during the midst of a battle against Eve no less. To be able to make so many modifications on the fly, I’m not sure even Lady Mei could have accomplished such a thing. And there’s still the question of the specific seals you used.. Yes, containment, submission, servitude, and so forth.. but why Vlatko and not Isbel? Why the Fuegra script when Midchellan would have worked equally well? Possibly stronger, I’d say, given the intent was unity and not enslavement?”

Abel’s anger at Lethe’s allegation was swept away by the foreign terms she was spitting out. Vlatko? Isbel? Midchellan? His confusion just seemed to anger the female knight further though she maintained her indolent tone: “And, I wonder, why you thought using a Pure Sinner seal against Eve, a demon, was a smart idea?” Blue eyes stared accusingly into him but Abel had been able to latch onto one phrase throughout the tirade.

“Pure Sinner seal?” He repeated in a faint tone. He had used a Pure Sinner seal..? How? When?

“Sikem.”

Guilford’s hand had fallen away in the face of Lethe’s diatribe and he now stood uncertainly to the side. He wanted to believe in Abel--for despite all the faults the man had, Guilford truly believed the captain was doing it for good reasons--but Lethe was, once again, raising good questions. Having never studied seals as much, most of the technicalities of what Lethe was raising were beyond him but even he could tell she was saying there had been better alternatives than the ones their old Captain had used in capturing Eve, something about inhibiting resistance and Sin.

The word clearly meant nothing to Abel given the lack of recognition in his face. He looked as lost as ever. It was an unusual look for him, one Lethe had never seen him wear before. Exhaling harshly through clenched teeth, the white-haired Knight lifted a finger and drew the seal in the air, leaving the standard gaps to keep it from activating. “Sikem,” she repeated, “it’s meant for servitude and was designed based on notes captured from a Pure Sinner.”

She felt no pleasure in seeing Abel’s face drain of color. When drawn, he had clearly recognized the seal.

“I. I didn’t. I never..” Abel looked down from the condemnation as his brain tried to process what his former subordinate was saying. Based on a Pure Sinner? Surely she was mistaken. She had to be mistaken. “Yves taught me all of them.” He muttered from numb lips, his brain refusing to reconcile the fact Yves--a Pure--had taught him something whose origins came from Sin.

A scroll of paper and a pen was shoved under his nose; he jerked back to see an impassive face, backlit by a harsh light. “Draw every seal Yves taught you.” Lethe commanded even as the glow of Light’s Wrath licked around her. Her Heaven’s Judgement floated around the three of them in a pretense of idleness. They would react at her merest thought. When Abel finally took the proffered paper and pen, she stepped away to give him space. Her former captain looked around him cautiously, taking note of the eight swords surrounding them. A semblance of his normal pride--stymied by the blatant show of distrust--returned to him; furious eyes stared at her.

“Draw every seal Yves taught you.” Lethe repeated, slowly and clearly. There may have been a time when his fury would have cowed her but it was so very long ago now.

Abel swallowed against his outrage. She thought--she thought to threaten him? In the resting place of his forefathers? He turned to look at his other former subordinate and noticed wary purple eyes surveying both him and Lethe. Guilford was tensed, ready to act, but not acting yet. The younger man would probably only intervene if it actually came to blows, but Light knew on which side. Probably Lethe’s, given the male Seraph’s affection for the lady. Unbidden, irrationally, Abel felt a surge of bitterness that even his protege wouldn’t stand up for him in such an insult. The d’Arque returned his attention to Lethe, who remained as statuesque as before, and then down to the notebook in his hands. He idly flipped through a few pages, sensing the way Lethe’s blades slowly rotated in his direction but otherwise stayed stationary, and looked at the notes there: some comments about her team, a few lists of provisions needed, names he didn’t recognize, and--he froze as the eye of Sin stared at him, an invisible line breaking the otherwise malevolent gaze. The hiding spell the God of Sin used to use.

The reminder of their omnipresent foe quelled the rage within him. The God of Sin. He looked back up into blazing blue eyes. There were many things he didn’t understand about his former subordinate and many things he wondered around (what did it mean for an orphan to select Urilla as a last name?) but there was one thing he was certain about: Lethe cared about the Divine Light and the Immaculate. Whatever she was trying to learn from this task, humiliating though it felt to him to have their lack of faith in him shoved in his face, it was for the, and here he had to chuckle even in his own mind, greater good.

With a sigh of defeat, Abel lifted the pen and started drawing every seal he could recall Yves teaching him.

Guilford may not have been an expert when it came to Seals and Runes, and he might only possess limited knowledge of the matter, but Lethe’s words made him consider something that had never before crossed his mind: when exactly had Lethe really started to learn about Seals and Runes? He was quite sure it was not too long ago. Given the discrepancy in time, and the study of Seals and Runes continually progressing either officially or unofficially, wouldn’t it be right to say that the knowledge of Seals and Runes Yves and Lethe had been vastly different? Not to mention that Yves was a Pure, which could entirely mean that she herself may have an entirely different approach of going about Seals and Runes given their access to ancient knowledge. If he were to go back to the ‘Hidden Truth’, Pure Sinner seals may be the ones actually based on the Seals and Runes of the Pure… who knew? He could only speculate. His hand clenched at his ignorance but he also knew he couldn’t reveal that Hidden Truth: not here and not like this.

Guilford unclenched his fist at his helplessness and turned to Lethe. He couldn’t stomach the sight of Abel’s meek figure any longer than he already had. “Is that really necessary?” he asked lowly with a nod to the swords hovering around their former Captain. “Respect is not given only to the living Lethe. I’m sure the others here would like to keep resting in peace.” He then drew his gaze to the other man, “Abel is cooperating is he not? I don’t really see a need for such an open display of hostility,” then back to Lethe, “I strongly suggest that you lower your swords. You’ll get your answers. Of that, I have no doubt.”

“And if he’s not?” Lethe queried calmly without a flicker of a glance, “If this is an elaborate ruse? We’re on his battlefield; he has pen, paper, and sword: more than sufficient tools to disable us if our guard is down.” Finally her attention turned Guilford’s way, “Perhaps it’s your affection for him that influences you and perhaps it’s my.. history with him that makes me overly harsh. But at the end of the day, it is better to have been overly cautious than too careless. It’s not only our lives at stake, but seven others.” She lapsed into silence as she returned to observing the old Knight who had once led her in battle. Her keys continued their lazy rotations, threatening in their presence but otherwise passive. “When they die, it will be because we could not stop the Council, not because we trusted them to the wrong man.”

The white Seraph straightened and reached a hand out to accept the scroll Abel had just finished filling, the privacy rune keeping her and Guilford’s discussion silent melting away. A peek into the Divine Realm revealed nothing sinister and she let the glow around her dim. Paper crinkled as she looked through the seals Abel had drawn. He had tried to follow her example in leaving a break to keep the seal from activating but it was clear he hadn’t been taught the seals with such measure. Regardless, while almost every discipline of sealing was present, Lokian and Fuergan dominated the pages.

She finally looked up from the pages to meet her former Captain’s gaze. Brown eyes stared back at her wearily. This conversation had clearly drained him. Was he a really good actor or was this fantastical story the truth?

“You began La Gamme. Yves joined in, and then Nigel forced you out to take your place.” She repeated with a sigh, traces of disbelief still tinting her words. Abel’s expression didn’t waver. Lethe was the one to cave first. She looked away to the wall--which ironically happened to be Nigel’s and Yves’ tombs--and sighed again with an incredulous shake of her head. Her heaven’s judgement blades returned to their normal position at her back even as the glow around her died. “Love.. what a ridiculous emotion.” The mutter was meant more for herself than her audience.

The fact that you think it’s ridiculous is the very reason why you can’t comprehend its power, Guilford thought to himself. “The things we would do for our loved ones..” was all he said aloud before turning to the old knight, “Abel, you know exactly who we’re up against,” Seraph’s authority seeped back into his tone, “don’t overdo it.” He looked at the man sternly before walking the other way, “I’ve heard enough. I’m going back to the Cathedral.”

Another shake of the head and then the white-haired Knight made her escape as well. With only a nod of acknowledgement, she too vanished from the mausoleum.

A frown crossed Leon’s face as he opened his eyes. Hazel eyes looked pensively over the buildings around him but he could see no more than he’d sensed: nothing. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips even as he uncrossed his legs. He shakily stood up, taking a moment to catch his balance, legs weak after a half hour of sitting still, and slammed his palms into his cheeks. Another two slaps and a shake of his head forced his disappointment from his mind. They were only just starting; if this had been an easy task, Captain would have just done it herself.

A quick twist of his back released some satisfying cracks and he was ready for the next location. He picked up the notebook and crossed off the the tent set of coordinates from the list of potential portal sites. Wherever Captain had found Omi from, that place was probably resenting their intrusion right now. Lights the redhead was useful. Somehow the Scribe had made sense of the daunting stack of reports and produced… possibilities. His hand tightened on the book in his hand and its two columns of neat numbers, reminded once more of how priceless the scrap of paper was. They were trying to find needles in a hayfield but at least they had some starting points. He had to be satisfied with that.

Finished confirming his next target, Leon placed both map and notebook back into his knapsack. Bag secured over his shoulder, he shimmied down the side of the house and started walking towards the next coordinate. Unlike YunQiao, he didn’t get a horse; the animal’s presence, minimal though it was, might interfere with his sensing. Then again, he didn’t have to walk through every house, forest, or what have you in a vague hope of finding a portal hidden away. In that sense he was luckier than his fellow squadmate.

With another sigh, the blonde Knight looked skywards, thinking glumly of his response when he’d been asked in his PK interview how he’d find a needle in a haystack.

Burn it.

Things had been so much simpler back then.

Orphelia eyed the mirror critically as she ran a pale hand over the front of her evening gown. It was a bit early to be wearing velvet--winter was still a few weeks away--but the fabric hid her baby bump better. Staring at her reflection, she contemplated exactly how visible it was. There wasn’t much of a frame of reference to compare to but it was definitely becoming visible. That had to be a good thing, right? Healthy babies were big babies? Unfortunately, it made hiding her pregnancy that much harder.

She was lifting her corset speculatively when the door opened to reveal Rhett. His eyes brightened at the sight of her before his eyebrows immediately furrowed at the sight of the contraption in her hands.

“You’re not planning on wearing that, are you?” He questioned as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Orphelia ignored the chiding as she continued to contemplate the merits of wearing the corset. She wasn’t vain enough to try to maintain a slim figure during her pregnancy but letting the others know if her condition was inadvisiable.

She turned around and shoved the corset into her husband’s chest. “Help me put it on.” She accentuated her demand by unzipping her dress.

“It’ll be bad for the baby.” Rhett protested as his frown grew. Annoyed blue eyes caught his gaze, “So would everyone knowing it exists.” Orphelia pointed out testily as she laid her dress aside. Taking back the corset, she struggled to fit the unwieldy thing over her widening waistline. “Tighten the laces please.” Her husband pointedly did not as he frowned at her through the mirror. “So help me Agni, just do it.” She snapped, her ire quickly rising. “I just need it enough that it hides the bump. You don’t need to make me a size zero again!”

“We need to find something better than this going forward.” The black-haired man commented as he finally did as bade. The two had already argued how safe or unsafe her continued attendance at these balls. (Unsafe, they both agreed, but Orphelia had steamrolled any chance of transitioning that admission into a ban on maintaining her social circles.) The corset was barely tightened before he was tying the laces together. “You can’t keep wearing this, especially in a few more weeks.”

“We’ll figure it out later.” The blue-haired woman said decisively as she looked at her reflected once more. She looked. . . like she hadn’t even bothered tightening her corset. Everyone was going to think she was getting fat. Ire simmered at the thought of all those gossipy ****ing laughing about her behind their hands but she pushed it aside as she slipped back into her dress. She looked fat but not pregnant; grim determination settled into her countenance as she prepared herself for the upcoming night: that would have to be good enough.

“Lady Vidalus! You look-- pretty! That dress is simply gorgeous; who was your designer?” Orphelia tried not to let her smile slip at the poor save the other woman had made. Really, pretty? Why not just call her ugly and be frank about it?! A pinch on her arm recalled her increasingly violent thoughts back to the present.

“Why thank you, Lady Stine.” She simpered with more saccharine that was her normal wont, “I simply love your hairstyle today. How elegant!” She praised the nearly foot high updo her fellow partygoer had donned for the night. Who was the bimbo faking? Everyone knew that thing wasn’t her real hair. “I had this dress ordered from Lin&Tsao. Julien mentioned they were thinking of opening a branch in Tethel.” There was an interested intake of breath and then the gaggle devolved into its normal fashion chatter. A squeeze of her hand was her only farewell before her husband retreated into one of the men’s circles. Not even fear for his wife’s condition could make Rhett stand around the entire evening listening to fashion gossip.

“I’m more fond of Dulche myself.”

“Obviously Xiena is the best. Just remember that gold and turquoise gown that Victo--” The comparison of designers stumbled to an awkward halt at the mention of their former mayor. Victorie had been a constant presence in their social events and a vanguard of their fashion scene. Her absence was painstakingly felt. For Orphelia, she only felt a vindictive sense of delight. Victorie had been pleasant enough but after days of nursing Thea back to recovery from whatever attack Victorie had levelled on her friend, Orphelia had no kind feelings for the former mayor. However, that sentiment would find little company here. She was trying to decide a way to break the silence when another voice spoke up.

“Victorie looked heavenly in that dress.” A mixture of longing and sorrow tinted the words. “I’m sure she’d be flattered we still think so fondly of her, especially,” the tone turned harsher, “as I’m sure no such thoughts will be spared for her murderer.” The voice oozed malicious insinuations.

There was a flutter of hands and skirts but Orphelia couldn’t hear it over the sudden pounding in her ears. Thea? What was going to happen to Thea? Did that ****ing know of something--some plot--against Thea?

“Lady Nakuru?” Lady Stine prompted with a voracious glint in her eye. “Is something..?”

The young woman preened superiorly, clearly pleased to be the center of attention if the gleam in her red eyes was any indication. Her desire to lord her knowledge gave way to her eagerness to see justice for Victorie’s death: “You know that barbarian over at.. whatever outpost is on the Western side of Palaugrim?”

“Kaiser Outpost?” Orphelia muttered questioningly, a wave of the hand confirming her guess.

“Yeah, that one. I hear Aurungzeb has sworn to raze it to the ground.” The anticipation on the Lady Nakuru’s face cast an unholy gleam to her otherwise pretty features. “When that brute’s head crowns the ruins, I’ll host a ball in celebration!”

_________________

Gless - Grand Cathedral, Squad Eight Quarters


"Guilford, it is but an easy feat to overlook all manner of possibility in the face of great danger. Any normal human would be limited to two options: fight or flight, it's in our nature. However, Pristine Knights should not, and must not be limited to those two options alone. We have tempered our bodies, our minds and our spirits, to thrive in situations where danger is commonplace. It is our duty to seek out those possibilities, ascertain the best course of action, and to act on the decision we deem beneficial for the good of many. Never forget that."


For some odd reason, the words of his former captain, spoken from the first ever lecture the man had given him upon his assignment to Squad Seven, ceaselessly echoed inside his head. It was a combined lecture on decision making, cause and effect, and as always, the duties of a Pristine Knight. For all intents and purposes, that first lecture served as his guiding pillar throughout his knight career, up until this point in time where he was now one of the two Seraphs, hailed leaders of the Pristine Knights. There have been many times that his guiding pillar had been put to the test, yet in every single one of those trials and tribulations, he was able to pull through with those words held in heart. So why does he feel so helpless now? Why does his heart feel so lost? Guilford once again shuffled the documents he had on hand, much like the many times he'd already done so, coming to understand the fact that he could not—for the love of Light—understand any of the stuff written in the missives, not when he was this distracted from the task at hand.

Today was the day.

Captain Abel and a select few of the veteran knights would be departing for the Barrens soon, under the guise of a counteroffensive (a hasty one at that), orchestrated by old pencil-pushers, utterly clueless as to who and Light forbid what else those men would be facing down there. Back in the day, victory was pinned alongside the old captain's name. He was the Lightbringer, once one of, if not the brightest beacon of hope the knighthood ever had, but now, the Seraph was not so sure. Uncertainty dangled in every aspect of this operation, and as for the outcome, no matter how hard he meticulously tried to simulate the offensive playing out, even with every detail and all possibilities taken into account, still remained a question mark.

What was his former captain thinking?!

Even with the knowledge of who was truly waiting for them down there, and with the awareness of what it took to grasp victory once, how could he so willingly stake his life for a victory that was nothing short of delusional? What was he truly hoping to achieve? What was the underlying motive for his actions? What does he hope to accomplish by subjecting himself to such danger? Surely Captain Abel knew that there was just no way seven knights would suffice. Did he have a plan? The questions kept coming, and the more Guilford thought about it, more questions spawned in the wake of his musing. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get inside the head of his old captain.

He had to know.

Tossing the papers aside, the male Seraph sharply rose from his seat, confused yet irritated eyes trained on the door leading out of his quarters as he walked towards it, slamming the same door that became an outlet for his frustration shut behind him. Guilford briskly walked the halls of the Cathedral, destination set towards the Wyervia Docks, hoping to catch the men before they set off to what he could only think of as a one way trip.





Gless - Wyervia Docks


"Just like old times eh?"

"It's so like you to take things at face value. It's depressing."

"Hey! As long as we're doing something right?"

"But we haven't even been briefed of the mission details yet! How can any of you be excited about this?"

"I couldn't care less where they send us to. It was never my forte to question orders."


Abel finally dismissed the chatter from the knights walking a fair distance behind him. These knights were now his men, personally handpicked by the three council members that planned their mission. Hardy knights the lot of them, tough down to the last bone in their bodies and all carried quite a hefty weight of experience under their respective belts. If it counts for anything, he was lucky enough that knights of their caliber still lingered around. Such a shame that those three idiots couldn't realize the fact that these knights would be far more valuable to them alive than dead somewhere in Lightforsaken land. Well, that's what he was here for anyway, to ensure that these fine knights would live to fight another day after this, or so he was specifically instructed by the three clowns, much like the way they 'instructed' him to bring home victory. It took all the restraint he had in every fiber of his being to stop himself from telling the fools that what they were asking of him, is something akin to turning a stone placed in the palm of his hand into bread.

Victory was a tall order, yet it was one that they desperately needed the most, now more than ever. After such a crushing defeat in Lindela, and after having stayed on the defensive for the longest time, a small victory would come a long way. The knighthood needed something to keep the fire in their hearts alive, inspiration and propaganda alone was just not enough to cut it this time, and as much as he hated to admit it, these were the exact same thoughts that spurred those three councilors into action, the very same thoughts that he cannot fully condone or in turn disregard.

His conscience and logic had debated the issue the night before, with neither of the two coming to terms with each other. Be that as it may, as dangerous as it can and will be, this was actually the best time for them to counterattack, right when the God of Sin was busy licking his fingers in triumph. It doesn't have to be grand, nor does it have to be an overwhelming victory. All he was tasked to do was to figure out how to, and strike a devastating blow against the enemy, under the watch of the God of Sin, with only a grand total of seven men under his command, and to finally return home alive with the news and all will be well, it was that simple—if only it was that simple...

"Hey Abel," one of the knights casually walked up to him, "I can't help but notice that we're missing one to form a proper squad. Are you sure we shouldn't be eight?"

Paying no mind to the lack of decorum by the other knight, Abel simply kept his eyes on the road. "We will be joined by another knight. He should be waiting for us up ahead in the docks."

True to his word, another knight was indeed waiting for them by the dock entrance when they got there. Said knight was all packed and ready to go, save for the fact that this particular knight was not like the rest of them semi-wrinkled, battle-hardened lot. He was a youngster, and a scout no less! Save for Abel, the other six exchanged skeptical looks with one another, painting an air of confusion borderline disapproval around them. Their disbelief was so evident in their faces that the last member of their little 'expedition team' failed to resist the urge to smirk.

"Hit fast and hard." he said, both arms folding across his chest. "It wouldn't be much of a counteroffensive if you lot got lost there trying to locate the enemy camp now would it?"

Taken aback by the snide comment, one of the veteran knights took offense. "You cheeky grasshopper! Who do you think you're—"

"Enough!" Abel interrupted, glaring at the veteran knight before softening his features and turning towards their last member, "Apologies. These men are more 'suited' to open combat so your ways are lost on them. I hope you understand." Abel mustered a faint smile to his lips. A short 'hmph' was all he got in response.

"Right. Now then, I think a short introduction is in order?" he turned to the rest of the other knights, "This is Akira Takeuchi, and I know some of you may have heard the name. Don't let his age deceive you, he is far more capable than he looks." Abel shot a glance at Akira who looked like he was grumbling. "Believe it or not, he is currently the best scout that we have on active duty."

One of the knights suddenly raised his hand in question. "A'right, remind me, why'd we need a scout again?"

"Because you have no idea where you're going, I do." Akira jumped in before Abel could answer, "I also know the fastest way to get there so like it or not, you need me." he turned around and picked up his pack. "Besides, I don't think any of you would still be standing here if you knew..." he suddenly lowered his voice, "Look, do me a favor and do what you do best, just don't slow me down." Akira finished, leaving a dumbfounded group of knights as he headed toward their Wyervia.

"Kid's got a temper in him." another knight commented.

"You don't say.." agreed another.

Abel took a deep breath as he turned his attention back towards the knights. "You can't blame that young one. Our mission had been planned based on the information he brought back from the Barrens. I'm sure he's not looking forward to setting foot there again after almost a week long stay down there alone. Not to mention he's still recovering from the near fatal injuries he sustained during that mission, all of which happened not too long ago." he paused, watching as each knights' expressions drastically changed. "We all know what a few hours in the Barrens feels like. So I suggest you discard any lingering doubt you have in that man right here and now. He won't let any of you down, that I can promise you."

Some of the knights sighed, the rest shook their heads sideways, but regardless, all of them had mutually decided to drop the issue with their last member. If any knight, scout or not, survived an ordeal like that in the Barrens, it could only mean two things: either he was extremely lucky, or highly skilled, the other seven agreed that it was the latter. Luck played very little part when in the Barrens after all.

Before more words could be spoken, the trotting sound of a steed running like the wind became audible from behind them. All knights turned to see a familiar black horse ridden by none other than its rightful owner. When both steed and rider came to a halt before them, the knights saluted in unison just after Guilford had dismounted his horse. The male Seraph returned the gesture but quickly turned his attention to Captain Abel. "A word if I may?"

"Of course." Abel responded, turning to look at one of his men and nodding towards the direction of their wyervia.

"Right. If you'll excuse us Master Guilford, we'll be on our way then." one of the knights spoke, a tad disappointed as he urged his other companions to follow him and give the Seraph and Abel some privacy.

"May the Light guide you and keep you safe." A blessing, that was all that he could afford to give them.

Left alone to their own devices, both men lingered in a moment of silence, each undoubtedly trying to grasp the unvoiced words from one another. What more was left for them to say? The mission was as good as underway and both men knew that a stop to it was not going to happen. The Seraph took a breath, the determined glimmer in his former captain's eyes only served to stifle any and all thoughts of trying to dissuade him.

"I'll get straight to the point then," Guilford paused, letting a gust of wind blow across them before continuing. "what do you hope to accomplish?"

The older man smirked as he closed his eyes. What does he hope to accomplish? Indeed the question had a lot of weight behind it, enough so that it would be accurate to say it was impossible for an old man to carry on his own, and even with a handful of strong knights at his disposal, he was still unsure if he had what it takes to achieve that small victory. Regardless, he was not about to back down from this monumental task laid out before him. Abel opened his eyes and met Guilford's gaze. "What we all need in times like this." he finally answered. "Hope."

"Hope?!" the surprised Seraph parroted. "How could you speak of hope even knowing full well that what awaits you and those men down there are nothing but darkness, despair, and..." he hesitated, "and possibly death..." he didn't want to be blunt about it but there was no toning down hard facts about a knight's fate when in the Barrens.

"And this is exactly why I speak of hope, Master Guilford." Abel calmly argued, "Even the words of our Seraphs have no traces of it." he blatantly pointed out his observation. "I know what awaits me and my men down there Master Guilford, and contrary to what a select few may think of me, my Judgement has not dulled with the passage of time." Abel puffed his chest out a little. "I am not called the Lightbringer for nothing."

The Seraph sighed in defeat. It wasn't only until his former captain pointed it out that he realized how hopeless he had been these past few days. Now it made perfect sense why he felt on edge lately; he had lost hope somewhere along the way. "Then how do you propose to bring us hope?"

Abel chuckled, Guilford never really was any good at conveying his emotions. "My job is to figure that out. Yours is to make sure I still have people to bring hope back into." he took a step closer to Guilford, one hand diving into his pouch. He pulled out two rings and handed it over to Guilford. "Here, Akira asked me to give these to you. He said they both belong to your newest knight and asked that you return it to her."

"Akira?" Guilford had a confused look as he took the rings. "Why not give these to her personally?"

Judging from how clueless Guilford appeared to be, Abel instantly knew that the scout made extra effort into making sure that his participation in this operation remained a secret even from his friend, and that he had just blew that secret out into the open. "Akira is coming with us. He didn't want you to know because he knew you would worry, so don't. I'll make sure he gets back home."

Could he help it? Even if everyone tells him not to worry, he would still do so. Perhaps the right thing to do at this time is to put his faith in these men, to hope for the better. "All of you must come back home."

"That goes without saying."





Palaugrim - Kaiser Outpost



Morale is at a low upon hundreds of knights that remained to form the ranks of the force entrusted to defend Palaugrim's Western Coast. They were now fewer than they were originally, especially after news of the attack on Lindela reached their ears. About a quarter of their brothers-in-arms within this region of Palaugrim had families in Lindela, and most of those knights requested to travel off-island to personally see to their loved ones there. As much as Sigfried wanted to keep them here, he knew he had no use for knights who have their hearts and minds set elsewhere other than the defense of Kaiser Outpost, but even knowing he made the right call to grant them leave, he now felt that it was the one call he would come to regret far too soon.

From the outpost's lookout, heavy rain battered the armor of the vexed Knight Commander. He was staring down at death—in the form of a large army—as it shored up near the outskirts of their camp. Of all the times they could pick to launch an attack, why did they have to pick now? But who was he to complain about it? He would do the exact same thing to them had the situation been reversed. The enemy was looking to capitalize on their recent victory over at the second island, and much to his horror about the accuracy of his insight, this was exactly just as he predicted.

Perhaps he should have been more forthcoming about this fact in his recent reports sent over to the Grand Cathedral, maybe then one of the Seraphs could have made certain preparations in advance, or perhaps he should have made mention that an attack on any strongholds they have in Palaugrim was imminent, maybe if he did he would have reason not to grant the leave to those knights under his command. Then again, there's no use crying over spilled milk. They've seen it coming, given how enemy activity on the island spiked just before the hit Lindela took, every knight commander on this island already knew what was lurking around the corner; it was only a matter of time when the enemy would strike at them. Still, why now of all times and why Kaiser Outpost? Did he have the worst luck out of all the Knight Commanders here? He couldn't recall ever drawing the short stick among them.

"How does it look sir?"

The lack of grit in the knight's voice made Sigfried sigh out loud. Half of him missed the optimist in Yulia, yet the other half was glad she was anywhere but here in this instance. This particular knight with him now made the worst temporary sub-commander of all he had taken under his wing. If there was anything this knight was good at, it was writing his reports for him and tidying up his workplace, that and he was also an excellent practitioner of the arcane arts.

"You tell me." Sigfried deadpanned. "By my estimate, we're possibly outnumbered seven—maybe eight-to-one." he added.

Maybe it was more accurate to say they were outnumbered three-to-one, considering the difference in caliber between a Palaugrimian and Lindelan knight, of course. Still, complacency had no room on the battlefield. One could never really tell the outcome until the battle has been decided, and one should not count their chickens until the eggs have hatched.

"We should send word to Knight Commander Heinrich. We definitely need reinforcements, and his forces would reach us the fastest." the other knight helpfully suggested.

"No." Sigfried replied as he stood firm. "We cannot afford to have the other strongholds spread out their forces. This could be a trap for them if not for us. Only send a word of warning, tell them to pass it on to the other commanders and that we'll deal with this ourselves."

The way his jaws dropped was enough telling that this particular knight was shocked to the point of disbelief. He had always revered Ferus Ensis Sigfried—he had heard the tales of his valor in combat way back when he was still in the academy, and while he respected the man's achievements, he was content to just be hearing about them and not being a part of them, that is until graduation day when he found out he was going to be stationed in Palaugrim. They asked him who he wanted to be assigned to, and at that time he was led to believe by word of mouth, from one of his former classmates, that being under this man's command was the safest place to be if any of them ever get assigned to Palaugrim duty. He was not so sure then, now was not any different. If not for that guy telling him otherwise, perhaps the Ice ****ing was a whole lot better bet as he initially had in mind. Oh why did he ever change his first pick? And why did Lady Schneider have to ask to transfer? She was the one person that kept him sane with all the crazy, gung-ho missions they were used to getting under Sigfried's command...

"What are you still standing around for?! Get a move on! The enemy won't wait for you to finish writing!"

"Y-yes sir!"





Gless - Grand Cathedral, Magic Research Department


"Fascinating!" An absorbed Margarette exclaimed as she delved further into the gory details of her research. The old female councilor paced around her personal archive, eyes shifting left and right from the text handed to him by Guilford to the translation script she had recently acquired, unmindful of the fact that she was now messily surrounded by books, journals, scrolls—anything that can be written on or hold text. She was so close to unlocking the secrets the scroll had that she couldn't afford any distraction. Margarette even failed to acknowledge the arrival of her faithful aide, an older scribe and one who had been with her for the longest time, who sighed heavily at the sight of her still up and about, and even heavier as he looked at the mess that followed her around. Lights! He had just finished cleaning her office an hour ago too!

"Do you know what this means?!"

The older scribe's head suddenly turned to the owner of the voice, ready to say his practiced 'I have no idea' when he realized that Margarette was still alone in her own little world, mumbling words of speculation, probability, and a lot more that he couldn't make out from where he stood. Accepting the fact that he was invisible to her, like the many times he had been when she was deep into study, the scribe simply continued into the lab, stepping on a book or two along the way as he trekked the small distance to his desk. He was just about to start the latter half of his day which included reading reports sent to the councilor, addressing concerns received from practitioners of the arcane arts in the academy, as well as keeping track of progress from any ongoing research they had, when he heard a call for him.

"Weiss, which Seraph is still in the Cathedral?"

Perhaps he was not so invisible after all like he thought he was. He even gave extra effort to be as quiet as he could too! Weiss thought to complain about a Scribe's stealth aptitude—mostly because he hated being interrupted right when he was just about to start something—but then decided against it. Usually, when a councilor asks about the whereabouts of their Seraphs, what follows is a matter of importance that requires their attention. Now was not the time to play grumpy.

"I believe Master Guilford and Master Lethe are both present at this time, Lady Margarette." he answered to the best of his knowledge.

"Perfect. Weiss, could you go and get Master Guilford for me? Tell him I have new information about the scroll he brought me."

"Certainly. I'll be back with Master Guilford shortly, Lady Margarette."





Palaugrim - Outskirts of Kaiser Outpost


"Keep your formations tight!" Sigfried barked orders while expertly maneuvering around the battlefield, slashing down any Sinner that came across his path. "Do not let them through!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, bashing another Sinner in the face with his fist as it tried to claw him to pieces. These small fry were nothing to worry about but the battle was proving to be difficult thanks to the rain from above and the mud forming beneath their feet. Visibility was poor, and the battle conditions only getting poorer with the passage of time.

Together with his best offensive men, Sigfried was trying to set up a foothold and intercept point right between the outskirts and the outpost. His plan was to hold the enemy at bay while keeping well within the range of Kaiser Outpost itself for strategic bombardment, but the enemy responded in kind by sending them its vanguard of Sinners, aiming to disrupt their operation. Catching another Sinner that crept up at him by the neck, Sigfried hurled the poor creature to another one of its kind, toppling it and sending both down to kiss earth. He then channeled a bit of magic with his free hand and blasted the damned out of the two, leaving only unconscious humans in the aftermath of the blast.

"Tch!" The Knight Commander clicked his tongue. He had meant to fry them dead but he subconsciously used Absolve instead. Now he had to look after them in the middle of combat too! There was little time to think. More Sinners were on their way to him, hellbent on taking him out of the equation as soon as they understood the value of his presence on the field. This time, Sigfried widened his stance and gripped his sword's handle with both hands. If they were going to come at him in numbers, they were definitely going to need more than just a handful of Sinners. They can try to take him out, but the outcome will remain the same for them. Infusing his weapon with magic, Sigfried brought his sword up and swung down with all his might, cracking the earth he struck sending shockwaves of magic towards their intended targets. The Sinners he hit were blown back by the force of his magic, temporarily clearing his immediate surroundings of Sinner presence.

Taking a few seconds to catch his breath after a big attack, Sigfried was just about to call for a cleric to take care of the ones he accidentally absolved when the sound of Kaiser Outpost's horns pierced the air. Moments later, a group of scouts came running towards him filled with dread in their eyes.

"Commander! The enemy's main force! They are almost upon us! Your orders sir?" one of them informed him.

Sigfried gasped at the knowledge. How did the enemy already reach this point in so little time?! They haven't even finished setting up the ambush point yet! He was still trying to find answers when a volley of magic bolts from Kaiser Outpost blew by them from overhead. Not a moment too soon, a reversal came from the other side where the bolts landed, raining down the area just around the outpost.

It has begun.

"Take those two with you to the outpost, have them treated." he nodded toward the unconscious humans. "Tell the outpost we'll slow the enemy down and I need them to keep firing! Provide cover fire for the vanguard—which will be us—and to keep their eyes open for flare bolts! Most importantly, tell them not to hit any friendly squads! Also let all knight captains on standby in the outpost know they are cleared to ride out! Tell them to reinforce us as soon as they can!" Sigfried ordered one of the scouts, turning his attention quickly to the rest, "As for the rest of you, let all scout parties under my command, know that I need you to do what you do best and scout the area for detached forces! Remember, we don't have enough manpower to deal with sneak attacks! Clean them up if you can! If you can't, fire flare bolts to let the outpost know where they are! Move out!" he finished giving the last of his orders to the scouts and turned towards the general direction of the enemy, sword in hand and gripped tightly.

"Pristine Knights to me! We'll be the vanguard! Let's go say hello to their main force and show them why they picked the wrong outpost to attack!"

In his mind, this wasn't just another battle they could not afford to lose, it was also a test, a trial they need to overcome. Given what was at stake and who the real enemy was, should they lose here, then there wasn't going to be any hope for them when the time to finally confront their true enemy comes to pass. Tossing any and all unnecessary thoughts aside, Sigfried steeled himself for the upcoming fight. With a fierce roar from their Knight Commander, the rest of the knights charged bravely towards the enemy's main force.





Gless - Grand Cathedral, Magic Research Department



"Master Guilford. Please, come in." Margarette welcomed the Seraph standing respectfully before her doorway.

Weiss had a hard time locating the male Seraph until he had returned to the Cathedral from a trip to the Wyervia Docks. The scribe was well on his way to call for the female Seraph instead when he happened to run into Guilford on his way back to his squad quarters.

"Councilor. I trust you found something?"

The female councilor paused momentarily at the bluntness from the younger Seraph. "My, my. You do like to be direct to the point. Are you always this uptight?" she teased. "Would you care for some tea?" she then offered, gliding around the mess that surrounded her office desk to her personal teapot.

A brow slowly raised at the comment. Guilford didn't respond to the offer but instead took the time to look around the office. The sight was definitely an eyesore, especially for one who likes to keep things organized. However, if it means results have been achieved, he would gladly confine himself within this pigsty for a couple more minutes.

"Your scroll is very... fascinating." Margarette grasped for words as she began while stirring her tea. "I wonder why you had to turn to me to decipher it when one of your knights is a Pure."

"She may be a pure but she can't read or speak in their archaic tongue." was the monotonous answer she received.

"Well, isn't that convenient? Very well then." she submitted to his lack of interest. "I'll tell you now that it was not easy deciphering its contents." she sighed, sipping some of her freshly made tea before continuing. "I had to pull every string I had at my disposal, use every connection I've accumulated, even had to dig up old ones, and pull quite a bit of sleepless nights just to make sense of what we have here."

"I'm sorry to have put you through that, Councilor." a tempered response was all she got out of him.

They both know what lies ahead. Master Guilford believed something in this scroll could give them hope, and it seemed he was right... well, partially right at least. "Hmph. It doesn't matter. What matters is that we now know what this scroll contains." she motioned at the piece of paper rolled out undisturbed on top of her desk. "It's the Rite of Ascension's third and final phase as you initially told me, and what it holds is not something I think we should use at all."

"What do you mean?"

Margarette hesitated at the question. She wanted more time to look further into the subject but she had already exhausted every resource and connections she had and with that, all further efforts into finding out more about the scroll had hit a brick wall. "Master Guilford, as I said, the scroll tells us how to conduct the third phase of the Rite of Ascension. But it also says here that only someone deemed worthy can complete the third phase of the rite. In turn, they will be granted immense power."

"Then I don't see why we shouldn't use it. We need power, now of all times. You are well aware of that are you not, Councilor?"

Margarette deflated at his words—they couldn't be any truer than that. The God of Sin walks the earth once more, and defeating it a second time was not going to be any easier than the first. However, she also knew that power comes with a cost, one that she was not so sure they could afford... now of all times.

"You don't understand Master Guilford." she shook her head in frustration. "The scroll also indicates that the third Rite of Ascension is the judge, jury, and executor of those who wish to undergo it. Should you be deemed unworthy, it will take your life in an instant." she explained, watching the Seraph's expression change at her revelation. "There isn't even any mention about qualifications, o-or what needs to be done to be worthy of the power it says it will bestow!" she added, a touch of helplessness in her tone. "I'm sorry Master Guilford... as tempting as it may be in our time of need, I doubt this scroll will be of any use to us."

A long silence descended upon the two, neither one wanting to break it until Guilford spoke. "I want the translated copy of it on Master Lethe's and my desk at the soonest."

"You can't be..." Margarette gasped in horror. "Surely you don't plan on using this?! Master Guilford this is insane! What happens if it doesn't work and it kills you both?! We can't lose any of you two!"

"With all due respect Councilor, it is not for you to decide that." the male Seraph turned his back on her. "Just so you know, I don't plan on dying any time soon, and I'm sure neither does she... not when that thing walks among us again."

Margarette sighed in defeat. "Fine. It will be at both your desks as you requested."





Palaugrim - Outskirts of Kaiser Outpost



The tide of battle had shifted, both sides suffering casualties as it raged on. At first, Sigfried's men were overwhelmed by the enemy numbers, but when the rest of his men from Kaiser Outpost arrived, along with surprisingly accurate magic artillery support, they began pushing back—they were winning. Bolts of magic flew from nearly all directions across the battlefield, the sound of clashing steel and battle cries echoed within the combat zone, a testament to the fierceness of the confrontation between the two forces. Sigfried who valiantly led the charge tore through the enemy ranks like a hurricane, undaunted by the resistance their enemy was putting up. He couldn't afford his men to fall here, and it fell upon his shoulders to make sure they survive, and as if that wasn't pressure enough, Palaugrim will not suffer the same fate as Lindela, he and all other Knight Commanders stationed here had mutually agreed to it after the incident.

"Commander!!"

The call for his attention had more than just dread in it. He had just pulled back his sword from decapitating a Pure Sinner when he turned to look, only to spot one of his more experienced captains bloodied and with a broken weapon running towards him.

"What happened?!" he immediately inquired, spinning right after to land a back-fist right into the jaws of a clumsy Sinner and knocking the lights out of it.

"The left flank! My squad!" he clutched his chest wound, forcing healing magic into it, grimacing as he did. "We tried to stop it but we couldn't! It's just too strong! The other captains are doing their best but I don't think they can..."

He had a feeling the enemy still had a card to play; it felt like they were more focused on wearing them down rather than destroying Kaiser Outpost. Had they been the real target all along? His men and not the actual outpost itself? Did he just walk into their trap? Sigfried shook the thoughts away, his left flank was in trouble and he needed to be there.

"Can you still fight?" he asked the injured captain who immediately nodded in response. "Good. I need you to take command over here and hold the line. Leave the left flank to me."

His men were by no means pushovers—they were battle-trained by this island. If they were having trouble, then that just means it was that bad. When Sigfried reached his left flank, horror gripped his heart at the sight of some men lying lifeless on the field. The rest of his left flank were still fighting desperately to slow down a single adversary, surrounding that cobalt armored thing sporting a huge sword around for a weapon. One look was all he needed to know that this particular being demanded special attention from him. Wasting no more time catching his breath, Sigfried dove right into the fray.

"Get back!" he yelled at his men as he charged through them, aiming for the source of their troubles. He raised his swordarm and slashed down as soon as he got in range, taking that armored thing head on. A loud clang followed by an outward burst of wind blew across the field as their blades met. Sigfried's eyes widened at the realization that his sword strike had just been easily blocked, a thing that rarely happens especially when he was tapped into the divine realm. He was even more surprised when he felt the balance of power between their swords shift out of his favor and he got forcefully pushed back.

That thing was strong.

"Commander! We'll assist!" his other captains yelled.

"No! Leave this one to me and see to it that the rest of the left flank stays out of the fight! Focus on the others! Don't let them through!" he countered. After that brief exchange, as much as he hated to admit it, his men were not a match for this thing, and even he himself was now questionable at best.

"Ferus Ensis Sigfried. This will be your grave." the armored thing spoke to him, the deep and menacing voice rumbling within its helmet.

Sigfried tensed. It knows who he was?! Suddenly, it became clear to the knight commander what the enemy was really after, or more specifically, who. "Bold words, considering you know who I am."

It laughed, confidence and mockery bonded together with the way it did. "I know all about you. That's why I know you'll meet your end here," it pointed that huge sword at Sigfried. "by my own hands."

"Let's put that to the test shall we?" the knight commander braced himself, waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

_________________

[[Day 5 of Month -5 :: The Grand Cathedral, Gless ]]

“Councilor! Councilor Livius!” Cora emerged from the nook she’d been hiding waiting in at the sight of her quarry. The old man was striding away from her, seemingly deaf to her calls. Normally, such a dismissal would have discouraged her, and even now she could feel the flutters of doubt, but she’d been gathering her courage for the past half hour. Gripping her papers tighter, the brown-haired cleric chased after the Councilor with determined strides. “Councilor Livius!”

Though only 5’3”, Cora had long learned how to project her aura. With her arms akimbo, she made a menacing sight with her frown and it halted the muttering Councilor in his tracks. Grey eyes gave her a quick scan: “Yes, Cleric..?” An impatient flick of the hand, ruffling the papers held there, made clear the man was eager to keep moving.

“I need to speak with you.” Cora demanded, only realizing after the words had left her mouth how weak they sounded.

“Make an appointment.” Livius grouched back, trying to sidestep her to continue his way to his office.
A quick step to the left prevented his escape and the brunette continued her demand. “No. I need to speak to you now.” She demanded, casting a glance around at the hall. Though it wasn’t particularly crowded, their altercation was getting more attention than she was comfortable with. Her news wasn’t one that could be spilled so easily in the open. She mustered her courage, imagined the Councilor as one of her recalcitrant patients, and grabbed the old man by the arm. Her delicate fingers clamped around his forearm like bands of steel. “That room over there should be fine.” She nodded at the closest door and then dragged the resisting Livius with her.

Cora released him when they were safe inside the supply closet, snatched his papers out of his hands, and replaced them with her own report. “Read that.” She commanded, watching with a gimlet eye as the Councilor huffed and skimmed the report. At the end, the Councilor looked up and summarized in a deadpan, “We’re running low on medical supplies.” A roll of his eyes conveyed his annoyance, “Yes, I’m aware we’re running low on medical supplies, just like every—“

“No.” Cora interrupted as she resisted rolling her own eyes. “Well, yes, we are running low on medical supplies but more importantly, we are running low on them too fast. Also, all general medical supplies are running low: painkillers, headache relievers, decongestions, anti-nausea. Those aren’t the type of supplies you would expect to be used after a major conflict like the battle on Lindela.” Finally, the man was actually listening to her! Grey eyes nearly glowed with concentration as he tried to decipher the conclusion to her words. “Those supplies are the ones used for sickness. I’ve checked alternative remedies as well—honey, lemon, ginger—page 3—they’re all running low as well. In addition, the rate of cleric visits has increased. Clinics are reporting above capacity appointment requests.”

The fierceness in her tone softened as she uttered the terrifying conclusion she’d come to late last night. “I think we’re seeing the beginnings of an epidemic.”

“Last time we targeted these points.”

“Hmm, but I think these seals would be weaker. In terms of the overall seal structure, those two should be anchors which would make them harder to break.”

“Isn’t breaking anchors the best way to dismantle a seal?”

“Generally, yes, that would be the best practice.” A grimace crossed the Seraph’s face as she continued, “But technically we just want to disconnect the portal and we’ll destroy the arch physically as well. It will require less effort this way with the same result. And given the circumstances…” Lethe trailed off, leaving unspoken the uncertainties that hung in the air. When would Eve attack again? How many portals were in Lindela? There was good reason to preserve their strength where possible.

A look crossed YunQiao’s face before the man nodded his understanding. “So then these seals then. What order do you think would be best?”

Although part of the circle, Romauld was silent as the conversation delved into topics he had no expertise in. Normally he would be eager to learn but exhaustion and relief dominated his mind: exhaustion from the long days and nights spent poring over maps and reports trying to find these portals and relief at having finally succeeded. He was fully aware of how lucky they had been in finding this one portal. Leon hadn’t sensed anything and only a gut feeling had drawn the blonde to this abandoned warehouse. The Palaugrimian drew a weary hand over his face; he wouldn’t feel better until they had a more reliable method to identifying these portals. But for now, he’d take a small comfort in knowing at least one of the portals was being dismantled.

“Alright then. So first this seal, then this one, then this..” The sudden rise in volume, subtle though it was, reeled his attention back to the present. YunQiao was marking down the order they would use to dismantle the seal. Romauld quickly memorized the order shown and kept his thoughts from wandering for the rest of the discussion. They had reached the end, the final sequence determined, when the Palaugrimian finally spoke up: "I would like to be the one to destroy the portal, if you don't mind overseeing and ensuring I do it right?"

Surprised blue eyes assessed him before an approving smile curved her lips. "Of course." Lethe agreed, stepping out of the way to the edge of the room. YunQiao looked at the two of them in amusement as he too moved aside.

With an inhale, Romauld removed his audience from his consideration. They didn't matter, only his goal did. He stared coolly at the offending arch as he gathered his holy magic, concentrating it in the tip of his bo staff. First that seal, then that one, then those three. He reviewed the order one last time and then settled into an offensive stance. Accuracy was most important, but speed was as well. Who knew how long a partially deconstructed portal could last without something terrible happening. Once the former Commander was certain he was ready, he struck.

His first jab caved the seal in as did his second. His third he softened so as to not expend as much holy magic. The portal flickered ominously and he struck at the fourth seal. The seal wavered but from the wavering, never mind the indistinct sound of warning, Romauld knew it wasn't broken. There was a sudden spike of Sin and Romauld slammed his glowing staff into the fourth seal again, followed by an equally overpowered hit to the last seal. The portal wavered once more and then the concentration of Sin broke, dissipating with a malicious hiss.

“Repent.” A female voice intoned as holy magic filled the room to negate the Sin. When the light ebbed, there was no more trace of the taint.

Romauld looked in charging at the now inactive stone arch. There was a round hole where his staff had punctured through and one area, where the fourth seal had been, was crumbled completely, unsteadily supporting the rest of the edifice.

"Good job." Lethe congratulated with a nod at him. "It looks like the portal has been deactivated. I'll take my leave then. Again," and now her focus widened to all four men in the basement, "good job all of you. Thank you for your hard work. May the Divine Light guide you to success." With a respectful bow to all of them, the Seraph left the room.

Romauld sighed the moment she was gone, turning to look in charging at the mess he had made. Sure, it was deactivated now, but certainly not in the most elegant, or efficient, of manners. He had been commander of Rasova for a long time; it was odd to feel chastised like a trainee once more, even though he knew the Seraph had meant no criticism. He memorized the messy stone arch, memorized his discomfort, and then pushed the two aside. He would save them for later to motivate himself. For now, he had a job to finish.

"YunQiao, can you check again the portal has been deactivated? Leon, I'm guessing the leftover magic is making it hard to sense, but I would like you to monitor this room for the next 24 hours, just in case. Omi, thank you for helping find this. If you can help with monitoring?"

Surprised purple eyes blinked at him as the scribe nodded. YunQiao stepped forward to evaluate the arch as ordered and Leon sat down, no doubt to rest and center himself. Romauld moved towards the exit, gesturing for Omi to follow him as he explained, "If you can..."

"I'm back!" Valiar announced happily as he slammed the door open, arms spread out in anticipation of his welcome home hug. Work was understandably busy given the recent attacks and he relished every chance to return home and see his girls. After a moment of posing, his cheer waned and he stood up with an unsettled frown. He could hear no patter of feet that would suggest Annabelle was on her way to greet him. In fact, serious black eyes swept the living room, the room was oddly cool and he couldn't smell dinner on the stove. A glance at the clock confirmed it was half past six; maybe Marielle was still out volunteering?

The cleric let the day swing shut behind him as he took his customary seat and started stripping off his armor. He was replacing his boots when he realized his wife's shoes were also present on the rack. It was possible she'd worn another pair, but it was unlikely.

His frown returned as Valiar stowed the rest of his armor away. He was halfway up the stairs when he caught sight of his wife. Immediately, some of his tension eased. Marielle was still safe.

"Hey," he called softly, catching his wife's attention. The look of relief on her face as she caught sight of him was troubling, but at least there were no tears. It couldn't be that bad. He drew her into a hug and the two stood there quietly.

"Her fever's back." Marielle muttered into his shirt. He patted her head comfortingly. "I've already given her the anti-fever tonic, twice, but her temperature is staying high. She keeps complaining she aches and she can't keep any food down." He could feel her arms clench around him and he returned the gesture, trying to give his wife the comfort she was seeking.

"How long?"

"Two days now." Exhaustion shaded Marielle's voice, muffled though it was. Valiar frowned. He could try healing their daughter with holy magic again, but he'd just healed her a month ago. It wasn't good to constantly boost a child's health with holy magic as it tended to weaken the immune system in the long run.

"I'll stay with her tonight. You get some rest." He offered despite his own exhaustion. His magic reserves were running low and tomorrow would be another busy day of healing the wounded, but he knew he'd feel worse if he left his wife alone with their sick daughter and no rest. Before Marielle could reply, her stomach answered for her with a weak gurgle of hunger. "I'll get us some dinner and then you go rest," he amended his offer, drawing a weak laugh from his wife.

"Alright." She agreed as she drew away, wiping at her eyes.

Valiar squeezed her hand before she could withdraw completely. "It'll be okay." He reassured with a comforting smile.

Marielle tried to match his smile though a tired yawn broke it. He was at the base of the stairs when she remembered. "Wait! Valiar!" The sudden alarm had him turning around and this time, the worry was stark on her face. "Annabelle isn't the only one sick. Half the other children and most of the elderly were as well.."

Blue eyes surveyed the familiar tombstone contemplatively, tracing the familiar words. Eiji Akiyama. Lethe opened her mouth, paused, and then closed it. She glanced around furtively but remained silent despite her apparent solitude. Idly, her hands fiddled with the flowers she was holding. There had been no time to place a flower by each grave as was her custom. She hadn’t even had time to don her normal disguise beyond a hooded cloak; thankfully, the groundskeeper had said nothing at her appearance.

There’s a another stage of the Rite of Ascension!

The words longed to spring past her lips. Her emotions-disbelief, worry, hope-strained to burst free. She wanted the comfort of a listening ear, even a dead one, to confide her swirling thoughts to. But no. She couldn’t. The information Gil had shared with her earlier today was not meant to be spread. It had been the Pure’s closely guarded secret and it would remain so, even if three more now knew it and its contents. Lethe looked down at the faded blossoms she was holding; flowers were in short supply right now given the recent attacks and she’d salvaged her motley bouquet two steps from the dumpster they had been headed for. One finger pushed a drooping petal back into place before she knelt and placed the collection on the ground.

“I’m sorry I have to leave so soon, Eiji,” She murmured, caressing the tombstone affectionately. “Things are getting busier and busier, but I hope I can return soon.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the cool granite and then stood back up. Once more, she felt the near overwhelming urge to confess her worries. She balanced on the precipice before firmly stepping back. A final sorrowful look and the Seraph walked down the path out the graveyard.

Twenty minutes later found her outside her apartment. She hovered at the doorway, feeling the call of duty beckoning her back towards the Grand Cathedral, before she finally untied her cloak. With its removal she shed the mantle of her Knighthood, of her Seraphdom. Lethe walked into the apartment. Restless, she roamed the two rooms she called her own, settling first at the dining table then her bed then her couch. None of them quite offered what she wanted—whatever that was—and she hesitated in the middle of her living room, still not certain what she was searching for. Her feet wandered to the kitchen and she started pulling out rarely used cooking instruments, more for the need to do something than hunger. She was rinsing off the cutting board when she stopped. Gently setting the board down, she peered curiously at her hands and the clear liquid running over them.

“First, you must cleanse yourself. Body, mind, and soul—all must be pristine for the Divine Light to enter.”

It had been the first step—really, just the baseline—to the Rite of Ascension. How could a dirty vessel even think of containing the Divine Light? She rubbed at her hands, remembering the sick ball of dread that had settled in her stomach the first time she’d heard Councilor Cornelius’s instructions. She who was so tainted—and she dared to attempt to become a Seraph? Yet… somehow… Lifting a dripping hand to eye level, Lethe marveled at the pale white skin. How far had Sin hidden in her, how deeply had it intertwined itself with her flesh, that even the Divine Light had been fooled into accepting her despite—

Her fingers clenched into a fist at the memory of white eyes and grasping claws. After a moment of unease, she reached for the soap and furiously scrubbed at her hands, another futile attempt at cleansing. Now more unsettled, the white-haired woman abandoned the sink and instead retreated to her bay window. A cocoon of blankets offered meagre comfort and she drifted into the land of the sleeping.

The sound of tolling bells woke her and she peered blearily out the window. The sky was a burning orange and blurry white figures streamed into the Church she lived by. Sunset then? Groggy from her nap, Lethe nevertheless managed to untangle from her swaddling and sink to her knees in time to join the prayers below. She stayed knelt on the ground even as the volume in the Church below her rose once more, this time as the supplicants left to resume their previous tasks.

A third rite of Ascension.

The words had her sinking further till she was prone on the ground, back down and eyes staring listlessly at the ceiling above her. Her unintentional break had given her the distance needed to think objectively about what was coming next.

A third rite of Ascension. She and Gil had to undergo a third trial. One hand rubbed tiredly at her face as she remembered the little information her fellow Seraph had been able to provide. Cleanse thyself. Travel to some sacred location. And then—who knew. Undergo an unknown test. The prize? The power, perhaps, to defeat Sin. And if they should fail? A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips. What was death to her? When she’d already buried herself so long ago? Her head lolled to the side as her maudlin thoughts moved past the immediate consequence. Of greater concern was that if she failed, only Guilford would be left to lead the Pristine Knights. Certainly they had a few potentials tapped—Romauld, her Adair, Joaquim, Lance, and Alona—but none of them had passed their rites yet: the first two rites that prove their worthiness to lead the Pristine Knights. Until those four were ready to ascend to Seraphs, the Immaculate only had two leaders. Could she deny them one of those leaders if she was to fail the third rite? She’d somehow passed the first two, but… cleanse thy body; cleanse thy soul. Would the Divine Light turn a blind eye to the Sin within her one more time? And yet, could she afford not to attempt the third rite?


Even as she inhaled the cool air of her bedroom (of clean, blessed Gless!), Lethe could remember the choking miasma of Sin, despair, and death. She could still remember the sensation of pushing against corpses—brothers and foes—to stagger to her feet to fling herself once more at the God of Sin. She could still remember it all. Even a decade later, the memory was burned into her memory. She would probably never forget it: their desperate battle to defeat Sin.

And still, it had failed. The God of Sin was back.

A frown creased her brow and her lips at the thought before giving way to resignation. Divine Light, please grant me your mercy once more. Grant me the strength to pass your third rite so finally we may end the plague that is Sin.

And after that... only the Divine Light knew.

_________________

Barrens - Drop Off Point



Eight knights gathered around a temporary camp, six of them wearing masks of sullen expressions as they eyed their leader, Abel d'Arques the Lightbringer. As instructed by the council trio, Abel had finally briefed them of their current mission details, and under his own behest, included information that was not supposed to be shared so casually. He couldn't blame these knights—their reactions were exactly as expected—but he would not be able to live with himself had he chose to not let them know beforehand what they just walked into. He owed that much to these brave souls who agreed to follow his lead in these desolate lands.

"I suppose you have some kind of plan?" one of them sarcastically asked.

Abel turned his attention to Ouen Hugue, the knight that wore pale blue armor. He was one of the more prominent knights in the field of enchantment. While this knight's strength lies more on supporting his comrades in the field with his magic, he also possesses great skill with the sword and can very well hold his own against a multitude of opponents. Abel knew that this knight in particular was far too valuable an asset to this mission for him to choose to back out now.

"If I do, would any of you be willing to listen?" Abel trod carefully.

To portray his disbelief, frustration, and whatever else it was that bothered him, another knight kicked a random stone protruding from the ground, breaking it in the process. Aldus Estevan, a fiery soul in the heat of battle. He was far stronger than his large stature already implied and yet his defense was still an entirely different story; his presence alone was reassuring, especially at the front.

"Don't make me laugh!" Aldus glared at Abel, curling his hands into fists like he was ready to throw them at him. "A plan against the God of Sin?! With only seven knights and a scout?! Are you mad?!" he lashed out.

"Calm down Aldus, before you get another wrinkle." said another of the disgruntled knights. "Throwing a fit now wouldn't change the fact that we were handpicked for this mission. Perhaps our only mistake was not knowing the entirety of the operation before agreeing to it."

Sienna Prisma, hers was a calm and soothing voice, emotions well-tempered within her words as she spoke. Beneath her mild demeanor and soft-spoken nature rests a cunning strategist, one rumored to have been the mentor of Palaugrim's Knight Commander Heinrich. Although well-versed with the recuperative arts, classifying her as an accomplished cleric would not do her any justice and only come off as an insult. Her vast knowledge in the arcane arts spans farther than the healing branch alone, reaching even the tree of advanced offensive magics known to date.

"While I can't say I'm expecting something out of your plan, I at least would like to hear it." Sienna said, as mellow as ever.

"And do what?" yet another knight contradicted.

Nicolin Aylard. His eyes were trained on the sharp edge of his sword, inspecting it for any cracks of the sort. When it came down to protecting the rear of a squad, Nicolin was indeed among those who excelled at the role. He wore little to no armor at all, claiming that mobility is one of the best weapons a rear guard must have aside from dead-eye precision and masterful swordplay. Together with his wife Sasha Aylard, these two were indeed a formidable force at the rear.

"It doesn't matter what kind of plan you have, we know it isn't going to work." Sasha picked up her husband's words.

Abel sighed roughly. It was not everyday that people displayed such amount of distrust towards him, and it was not too long ago that his credibility had been put to the test. Everyone had their fears and worries, they were entitled to voice out their opinion. Regardless, they have chosen to accept the mission and all of them knew what was at stake. Perhaps their only worry now was failure.

"And you Milluel?" the Lightbringer scratched his head. "Do you have anything to add?" he cued the last of the hesitant bunch to speak up.

Milluel Garit, a quiet knight with not that many achievements strapped to his name. Out of all these knights, it was this particular one that worried Abel the most. He had done his due diligence and researched Milluel, only to find out nothing of significant import. His achievements were mediocre at best compared to any other knight in their motley crew, all the credit went with his previous squad leader and his contribution as detailed were like any other average knight would have done. Still, the councilors wouldn't have handpicked him if there was not any good reason behind it. Someone from high up knew what this knight was truly capable of, after all, there weren't that many knights who share the same name for this to be a case of mistaken identity. Whichever the case though, Abel could only hope that the council was not wrong about him.

"I'll... listen to your plan." he said, almost as quiet as his nature. "We're already here anyway, not much we can do about it."

"Good." Abel turned to face the rest of his knights. "Then listen up and listen well. Our target is not the God of Sin." he paused, taking a good hard look at the knights under his command.

"It's Eve."





Gless - Caletta, Grand Cathedral


If there was anything Guilford hated the most, it was uncertainty. Not being able to predict the most likely outcome of a choice made was something that greatly bothered him. Here he was in his squad quarters with solitude as his only companion, staring at the lone sheet of paper laid out before him with scrutiny, the gaze held for as long as it took for his barely touched cup of coffee to lose the entirety of its warmth and aroma. The Rite of Ascension—the third and final phase, detailed in full as deciphered by Councilor Margarette, just resting atop his desk staring back at him, mocking any and all choice he was mostly in consideration of. On one end this could be the answer to all their woes, the true salvation that could lead those that remained to their freedom from Sin... or it could be his and Lethe's death—the catalyst to humanity's downfall, their doom. Either way, all of that stands at speculation... until proven otherwise of course.

The Seraph gently exhaled, sounding more exhausted than he actually was, jaded purple hues finally left the text he'd been staring at for the longest time. Mind now adrift, memoirs of his past resurfaced against his will, flashes of scenes from a dreadful decade ago came in slow waves—like the time he first witnessed the God of Sin in all of his sinful splendor. He was but a rookie then, no more than a clueless, reckless and over-eager teen full of youth, trying to honor the memory of a lost friend that got strapped inside an armor and given a real sword for a toy. However, that youth-filled and over-eager teen trembled at the first sight of their true nemesis—his first taste of real fear. Right now he was hardened, cultivated by the myriad of trials and tribulations he had experienced; it taught him how to tame the beast but back then?

He should have known better.

Even with all their remaining Knight Commanders leading the charge: Abel the Lightbringer, Caldwell the Divine Flash, Borgeus the Steel Bulwark, Chevalier Damien Linser, Seiryu the Azure Dragon, Ferus Ensis Sigfried, Radiante Luz Monique... along with a great many distinguished and highly talented squads and knights, he still trembled. The way his skin crawled with the immense taint surrounding the air—there was nothing like it. Right then and there for a great many of the knights, death was a guarantee. Even so, that did not stop them from charging forth, even as Guilford recalled himself standing still through the forward rush of the knights in their determined cry for victory. His blade felt heavy, his feet like they were strapped to the ground. How hard have they fought to get this far? How many lives were actually lost for their cause? Back then he absolutely had no idea—all he knew was the fear, fear that was near tangible as it gripped him, very much like the way it embraced him now. If it had not been for that blur of white that slipped past him, the one that held a selfless gaze, pure and undaunted... he never would have moved.

Guilford drew his gaze down to his right hand and noticed the mild quivering, stopped by quickly clenching it tight. A decade now and yet it seemed as if no matter how long time passed, there simply was no forgetting the battle that took place on that fateful day. Memories of it stayed vivid in his mind, clear as crystal from the first swing of his sword, to every drop of blood spilled, down to the last knights that remained standing in the end. He knew how tragic that victory was and yet he hesitates, given that an answer was right in front of him, he still found himself second-guessing his resolve. Pathetic! All he had to do was take the lightforsaken paper and just get it over and done with! What was stopping him?!

“Death always happens. Does that mean you’ll run away?”

“Until this mortal body falls apart.”

“To die for the sake of something we love, is that really so bad a thing?”

That was it. The answer was simple, Guilford did not want to die. He could not afford to—neither one of them could—at least, not just yet. Power or death, the choice was incredibly simple yet the cost was agonizingly too steep for any one of them to take the risk now. Just how high were the standards set by whoever made this ritual for one to be considered worthy of the power? Nobody knows. Guilford painstakingly shook his thoughts away as he reached for the paper that held the deciphered ritual, folding it a few times before sliding it grudgingly into his pocket. He was still unable to arrive with a decision, and probably she too give or take. He then began to wonder how his female counterpart was faring, what sorts of thoughts could Lethe be having now about all this? How long would it take for them to mull over this not-so-little conundrum they found themselves in?

He was about to mumble a short prayer when he suddenly recalled something...

It did not take Guilford long to scoff—it was a meaningless act. What good would prayer do? It had not been that long since he learned of the Divine Light and how it was never going to give him any answer; it was all made clear in the Hidden Truth that the Divine Light had long stayed its hand on the matter of humanity and whatever their plight was. Sure they still had access to its power, but other than that it remains known to a select few that the people were now on their own, left to drive their own wheel of fate to wherever they so desire. Given everything that happened, it was clear that the Divine Light intended to keep it that way, like it derived a certain sadistic pleasure in watching its creations suffer.

How lamentable.

Guilford sighed heavily, it had just occurred to him that Lethe was oblivious to the Hidden Truth. How was she supposed to go about this if she knew? Should he tell her? Should he even be the one to tell her? Knowing what she said about her belief and faith in the light back at Jenault, would she even think it to be true? A plethora of questions once again flooded his already weary mind, this time of a different matter. She deserved to know, of that he was certain. However, the question remained: Was she ready to learn of it? Another sigh escaped his lips, one of unrestrained frustration this time around. The Hidden Truth, the only other element aside from the God of Sin who held enough power to seal humanity's fate one way or another. If Guilford learned of any lessons over the course of his entire knight career, one of them was to never underestimate the people and things who hold a magnitude of power. If handled so casually, the Hidden Truth may very well be the last nail needed to seal humanity's coffin. Who knew what kind of devastating effect it would have to the people should it ever see the light of day? Guilford understood that just as soon as he read its contents when Abel revealed it to him, and it took him time before he decided to be another one of the secret's keepers.

Of his own choice, of his own volition. Guilford was still here fighting because he chose to, even after receiving a blow that shattered the foundations of humanity's beliefs, the purpose of his very being, he decided to keep moving forward. Even after learning of the fact that everything happening to them now was because the Divine Light allowed it to, that after everything they fought and died for—everything they strove to be was all a lie, he stayed. Why? It was simple really, if he couldn't believe in the Divine Light, he should believe in humanity's capacity to be good. Humanity may have been lied to and then forsaken, but they have been shown the path, all that's left for them now was to pick up their feet and walk it on their own.

"Lethe..." Guilford softly murmured her name.

She had to know, she deserved to make a choice just as he did—eyes opened to the truth and unbound from the great lie. The next thing the Seraph knew was that he had a small sheet of paper in front of him, feather pen dipped in ink and all, ready to write a message about it until he found himself frozen.

Was it the right time? Was she ready to learn of it? He should tread cautiously, for this may very well be one of the greatest decisions he has yet to make.

_________________

The Divine Light won’t ask more of you than you can handle.

little liar!

our hands may be small, but they. . .

Captain, I don’t want to die.

Where is your Thea now?
Where is your Thea now?


When blue eyes opened, it was to the sight of a shadow-cast room. The room was draped in darkness, faint yellow illumination casting a rectangle of light along her ceiling. It was before sunrise then. Lethe’s head lolled tiredly but despite her exhaustion, she knew any further sleep was impossible. After a few minutes of just lying there, she reluctantly pushed herself into a sitting position before listing sideways to rest her head against her bed. Her nice, comfy bed that she hadn’t slept in. A sigh escaped her lips at the missed opportunity. With another sigh, she slowly got to her feet, absent-mindedly rubbing a hand against her chilly arm. Goosebumps freckled her skin and she wondered vaguely if it was from the temperature or her dreams.

RUN LE

She yanked one of her shirts from a hanger, the clatter of the metal knocking against her wall disrupting the half-formed memory. Yes, there was no way she was going back to sleep. She was sliding her closet door closed when the sight of a wrapped box caught her eye. Placing today’s clothes on the dresser, she reached up and pulled the package down. Unwrapped and opened, it revealed a familiar looking sword.

The white-haired Knight lightly traced the length of the blade and then lifted it out of its case. Compared to Luna, it was on the heavy side, but the weight was familiar. Two experimental slashes cut through the air before a smile broke out on Lethe’s face. She had an idea of what she could do until it was time to report to the Grand Cathedral.

[[Day 6 of Month -3 :: Lindela]]

“Valiar… Valiar..” The familiar call and the sensation of hands combing through his hair drew the dark-haired cleric from his rest. Sleep heavy eyes blinked slowly as the man slowly sat up, feeling sore muscles protest at the movement. Where was he? Had he fallen asleep in the squad room?

“Valiar.” Marielle’s voice rung out and Valiar wondered why his wife was at the Grand Cathedral. She was busy enough on Lindela that she rarely ventured to Gless. Finally, black eyes focused on his surroundings and he realized he was at home. Petite hands dug into the knots in his shoulder and Valiar groaned in relief. “Shh, you might wake Annabelle.”

Suitably chastised, Valiar turned his attention to their daughter who remained peaceful under the covers. It had been a long night of nursing to get her comfortable enough to rest and despite his aches, he was glad to see his angel finally getting some sleep. Resting his hand against her cheek, he noted her fever was still present. They’d have to make sure her temperature didn’t get too high. A glance at the window, and the dull white light it allowed in, had him grimacing as he amended his thought: Marielle would have to make sure Annabelle’s temperature didn’t get too high. He unfortunately needed to get going to work.

Discontent puckered his mouth before he let them--both the emotion and the expression--go. Other people needed his help as well. Being a Pristine Knight was about caring for more than just himself--or his friends or his family. Pressing a kiss to his daughter’s face, Valiar reluctantly stood up. His wife watched him with equal reluctance; she too wanted him to stay but she too knew he had to go. Being a member of a Seraph’s squad was a burden they both shared, though only he wore the armor.

“You go take a shower.” Marielle murmured with a reassuring stroke on his arm, “I’ll go make some breakfast.” With one last regretful look at his still sleeping daughter, Valiar nodded and left to do as bid.

[[Day 6 of Month -3 :: Palaugrim]]

Pale fingers drummed restlessly against her chair’s arm, the click click click an oddly soothing sound. It was a terrible tell to pick up and she’d have to break the quickly-forming habit soon; it wouldn’t do to let others know so easily if they had disturbed her. However, in the peace of her own house, she was damn well going to do what she pleased, including drumming her fingers. Orphelia sniffed imperiously and ignored the sidelong glance Rhett threw her away.

More important than her bad tells was the information they’d just received. For once it seemed as if Nakuru had been telling the truth. Someone was building an army against the Pristine Knights. The force had been marching westward by the last account they’d gathered and given the time it would have taken for the message to reach them, the Palaugrimian wouldn’t be surprised if the attack had already started. Or ended, perhaps.

“Dear…” The tight voice of her husband drew her from her ruminations and she turned cranky blue eyes in his direction. Couldn’t he see she was thinking? “Is your hand okay?”

Nonplussed by the seemingly random comment, the blue-haired woman turned her gaze to her hands. Sure enough, the joints on her fingers were turning an alarming shade of red. Had she been knocking them against the chair? A scowl crossed her face at the thought of another unwanted habit before she discarded it in favor of more important topics: “Who in the world is Aura-Auruan--”

“Aurungzeb”

“him anyways?!” She complained with a huff. “I’ve never heard of him before and yet somehow, he summons an army out of nowhere!” Pale hands flailed in the air to emphasize her words. “A well equipped, well trained army!” Her hands collapsed to her sides as she sulkily crossed her arms over her chest. “I want an army..” she added petulantly under her breath.

Rhett ignored his wife’s grumblings as he contemplated her question. Who was Aurungzeb really? It was an interesting question that he didn’t have an answer to yet, at least not one that satisfied him. “A former lieutenant in the Royal Palaugrimian Army, he had no particular distinctions. He joined about seven years ago when Palaugrim first declared its sovereignty from the Church.” The brunet flipped over the paper he was reading from and checked the back of it. It remained empty. “He’s apparently about six feet six with a stocky, heavyset build so probably around 110 kg though I’d guess mostly muscle instead of being obese.” Rhett set the paper, which summarized all the information their network had been able to gather on the man, back down in his laps and spread his hands. Unspoken went the knowledge he knew nothing else.

The answer did little to appease Orphelia’s ire and she irritably kicked her legs out, uncaring for how indecorous she looked. After a few seconds of angry musing, she suddenly sat back up, a gleam of excitement twinkling through her eyes. “Nakuru knew about Aura-Auranga--whoever before we knew. Since our associates clearly haven’t gotten sloppier, then Nakuru must--”

“No.” Rhett interrupted, knowing where his wife’s mind was headed. “No.” He repeated even as he bit down on his next words--I forbid it. Such a phrase would make his mulish wife even more adamant about her plan if only for the sake of being contrary.

Watery eyes turned in his direction and the pout quivered in disappointment. “But it’s such a good idea,” she whined. “We need to know about Aurangatan; Nakuru knows something about Aurungatan. Clearly, I should pay her a visit.” The disapproval on Rhett’s face made clear he didn’t agree with her assessment and the facade of sorrow vanished. With a frown of her own, Orphelia mentally buckled down on her idea. Her plan was great, it fulfilled her need for more information, and she was a pregnant lady. She was 100% getting what she wanted!

[[Day 6 of Month -3 :: Lindela]]

“How are things going?” Adair blocked the lazy swing headed his way and retaliated with his own. Lethe had unexpectedly dropped by the Golden Sun this morning, seemingly in search of a sparring partner. Given the lack of notice and today’s shade of lipstick, the amber-haired Knight was fairly certain something was amiss. However, whatever it was, Lethe was, as usual, refusing to speak about it. Not even an offer to wake Grisia had appealed to her though it had elicited an amused smile and a raised eyebrow. The blond former Advocate was well known for his vengeance on those who interrupted his beauty sleep. Instead, the two were exchanging indolent strikes as a warm up.

“In general, as well as could be expected. Some of the redeemed Sinners are still struggling with construction work—a combination of re-familiarizing themselves to being bipedal and five fingered again and general fatigue from their bodies being ridded of Sin.” The frown on Lethe’s face paused the rest of his status report. She clearly had something she wanted to say and as predicted, a question followed shortly.

“And what’s their opinion about helping with the reconstruction effort?” There had been some discussion about whether or not to have the redeemed men and women help with rebuilding Lindela. On one hand, it felt a bit too much like conscription: captured in the battle, absolved back into humans, and then immediately drafted into hard labor. On the other hand, it was meaningful work and could help the redeemed men and women forgive themselves by rebuilding what they had destroyed while under Sin’s influence.

“Most seem okay with the manual labor. There are a few…” Adair paused to determine what words to use next. The sad truth was that some people chose to embrace Sin and unfortuantely there were a few of those such people among the redeemed. However, even after Palaugrim, such a concept was still inconceivable to Lethe. “A few are having a harder time adjusting to Lindela.” Silence draped between the two, broken only by the clash of metal against metal as they continued their lethargic sparring. The long sigh had Adair prompting, “Yes? What do you wish?” A smile quirked his lips at Lethe’s surprised look.

“You’ve clearly spent too much time with me, Adair,” she chided good naturedly. Then again, Adair had always been able to predict what she wanted; it was what made him such a good Vice Captain. “I’ll be sad to lose you when you lead your own squad.” The amber-haired Knight nodded in response but said nothing. He had no desire to leave Squad Ten but Lethe had made clear already she wanted him to start his own squad. It was a disagreement he planned to postpone as long as possible. “I just wish I could speak with them.” Lethe finally responded as she returned to their previous conversation.

At this, Adair could only sigh as well. Lethe had tasked him with monitoring the progress of reconstruction. He knew that in large part, it was because she trusted him to ensure things were running as she would have wanted them to be done, had she the time and freedom to oversee the situation herself. However, it happened to also place him in a leadership role away from her shadow that gave him greater exposure to the general public and other Pristine Knights. Convenient, given he might one day become a Seraph as well if all went according to her wishes. Though he didn’t particularly care to, he still offered: “I’ll speak with them, Lethe. Don’t worry about it.” His half-hearted smile grew at the sight of her thankful smile. It had clearly been the right thing to say.

“Thank you, Adair.” Conversation paused as Lethe deviated from the practice pattern they had unconsciously fallen into. She struck downwards with her Judgement and then switched immediately to slice him from hip to shoulder as if hoping to catch him off guard. Though his first instinct was to move his shield into place, he remembered its absence in time to knock the second attack away. He countered with a thrust which she hopped away from, catching his sword where her blade and hilt met before she forced it aside. Though his Judgement veered to the left, he kept his footing and withdrew safely.

They circled each other warily as Adair resumed his status update: “Valiar and Marielle are doing fine, though he’s had to stay over at the clinic the past few nights. Combination of night shift and an influx in patients. Seraphim says most of the demolition work is done; if you don’t have another task for her, she’ll continue helping with the construction.” A shake of the head confirmed her approval of the proposed plan. “Okay; I’ll tell her. Deimos is… trying.”

His diplomatic wording sparked a laugh from Lethe. Deimos had been tasked with ensuring all the clinics and refugee camps had sufficient supplies. While it did draw on his history as the squad’s supply officer, it also happened to put him in the public eye as well, much to the grey-haired Knight’s clear discomfort. Deimos wasn’t one for talking when nonverbal cues worked just as well. Unfortunately, most everyone else couldn’t read his silent responses which had forced him in the conundrum of speaking more or being less effective. The last time Adair had seen his colleague, the man had been in a staring match with an increasingly irritated camp leader before Adair had stepped in and mediated.

“Alright. YunQiao and Leon are working on a project for me with Romauld and Omi, a scribe. Cricket is spreading out the crystals as YunQiao proposed.” Lethe finished the squad update, knowing that even apart, everyone would want to know how the others were doing. “Now then, down to business? Swords only.”

“Points match then and at least ten unique sword techniques.” Adair agreed, receiving a nod of confirmation in response. Both wanted to improve their swordplay and while his brothers might be better teachers in that regard, both enjoyed the chance to simply spend time together again. Readjusting his grip on his sword, Adair swept forward with his first attack.

“Thank the Light you’ve come in!” Valiar paused at the unusual greeting, a look of confusion passing his face. Normally he just got a “good morning”; why was Cleric Jenna looking that relieved about his coming into work today? “Sabah and Amelia both called in sick today and today’s line-up queue…” The young woman shook her head in disbelief. “It’s like everyone decided today was ‘visit the clinic’ day or something!”

Valiar frowned and glanced back at the waiting room. “It does seem a bit crowded for nine am,” he agreed, “but it’s not that bad.”

Wide eyes darted towards the waiting area before Jenna shook her head emphatically. “No, half of those are only the recent arrivals still filling out their paperwork!” She dragged her older comrade to the window and jabbed a finger at the tent across the street. Already, a crowd had gathered and Valiar wondered who the chef was today to attract so many people for breakfast. Perhaps Alfrei? “That’s the rest of the queue!”

“For breakfast?”

“For us! For the clinic! They all need to see a cleric and it’s only you, me, and Seika today!” Hysteria turned Jenna’s normally pleasant voice screechy. Valiar stared at the large crowd, suddenly unsettled. Half the other children and most of the elderly are as well… Black eyes scanned the crowd and confirmed that a worrying number of children were in it. An uncomfortable sense of deja-vu tickled the back of his mind.

“Get me last night’s duty logs.” Valiar commanded abruptly, striding away from the window. “Request the duty logs from all of the nearby clinics as well. Also, send someone to all the major refugee tents in this quadrant and tell them I’m looking for Deimos.” When he didn’t hear footsteps behind him, he turned around to see Jenna looking at him in unsure confusion.

“Uh.. what?”

Reminding himself that Jenna was just a recently graduated cleric, and most certainly had not had Pristine Knight training, Valiar forced himself to pause. “Jenna, can you ask Reception to start two separate lists? One for any children or elderly here due to shivering, a fever, or nausea that has lasted several days.” He listed off the symptoms Marielle had reported their daughter suffering from. “Especially if any of them had been cured or boosted with holy magic within the last month or so. The other list will be everyone else. I need to go outside for a bit. I’ll be back soon!” He hastened to reassure. Jenna’s eyes had grown impossibly wide and she’d looked ready to faint at the idea of being the only cleric with such a long line of patients. “I’m going to go find us some help.” With one last reassuring smile, Valiar turned and left the hallway before his coworker could protest.

Slipping into Seika’s consultation room, he found a fierce looking medic despite the heavy bags under her eyes. “Something’s not right.” The old woman stated, levelling a displeased look on him. “I’ve had at least eight patients with fevers this past evening and morning. Most have been sweating enough to fill a bucket and are burning up.”

“Where are they now?”

Seika shook her head angrily, “The last three I have sitting in the spare building next to us under observation. The first five I didn’t think anything of and sent them back home.” The scowl on her face was chastisement for herself. “They should have signed in. We need to call them back. Clean sheets, hot water, disinfectant.”

“I’ll get a squad to prepare the building then. Cloth or wooden screens?”

“Curtains should be fine for now. We won’t have enough beds, will we? Mats then; surely we can find something.”

“I’m on it. You get together a list of everything else we’ll need. I’ll see about getting you a messenger if I can find a body to spare.” Without a parting word from either side, both professionals left to complete their tasks.

“I’m sorry Knight Valiar, but I don’t have any spare men.” District Commander Carey shook her head apologetically even as she skimmed a request for additional supplies. With a frown at the absurd request (really, as if she had lemons hiding in the District’s basement!), the blonde stamped a [Denied] on the form and placed it in the outgoing tray. “Most are already helping with construction; the rest are patrolling, resting, or undergoing remedial training. As it is, we’re racing to get enough shelter up before winter arrives.”

The cleric of Squad Ten clenched his fist in frustration. While he could understand the District Commander’s predicament, he also needed to get a quarantine building prepared as soon as possible, especially if the clinic’s queue had been any indication of what was coming. “District Commander, it’s imperative that I get at least ten men or women, at least for today,” he wheedled. There was the chance he’d need them longer, such as for however long the quarantine needed to be maintained, but he was playing the optimist here. Besides, revealing that would hardly encourage the other Knight to agree to lending her men.

“And I’ve told you,” the response was filled with exasperation even though the woman didn’t even look up from the report she was reading. “It’s not—” The rest of her words were cut off by a knock on the door. Before she could response, her guest helped himself in. A grey-haired, yellow-eyed man glanced over the room.

Deimos tilted his head questioningly at the sight of his tense teammate. He had recognized Valiar’s voice from outside the room and the increased volume had warned him whatever discussion inside was unpleasant. Observing the District Commander’s blatant dismissal of Valiar, the rear guard of Squad Ten entertained the thought his squadmate was, for some reason, upset by the blonde’s lack of attention. However, it seemed so uncharacteristic of his easy-going friend, he couldn’t imagine that was the case. What had he missed?

“Deimos.” The sight of his teammate helped Valiar relax. He didn’t doubt the abilities of his fellow Pristine Knights, but the veteran was glad to have someone he knew he could trust by him. “I need your help. I also need at least nine other adults to help me, preferably Pristine Knights.”

A groan interrupted them and irritated eyes stared balefully at them. “I have said--”

“District Commander.” Deimos interrupted, “I need nine adults, preferably Pristine Knights. Send them all to..”

“District Fifteen’s clinic, intersection of Brook and Spruce Roads.”

“that address, within the hour.” The grey-haired man was not enjoying the current task Lethe had given him. It required way too much speaking and socializing and spending time with people he didn’t care to spend time with. However, it did also give him the authority to override pesky Knights, Captains, and Commanders as he wanted. Conversation done and (even better!) less-talkative job acquired, Deimos turned and headed out the room.

Glancing between his leaving squadmate and the now fuming District Commander, Valiar chuckled nervously. “Uh, thanks for the help, District Commander. We’ll make sure Adair and Lethe know why your District might be behind schedule a bit. Have a good day!” And with that, he beat a hasty retreat. Carey was looking a bit too much like a PMSing Marielle to be safe around.

_________________

Palaugrim - Kaiser Outpost


"How is he?" a pensive Knight Commander Heinrich asked the cleric treating the Fierce Sword of Kaiser Outpost.

"He's a tough one." the cleric replied whilst expertly bandaging the wounds of the unconscious Knight Commander. "Given ample rest, he should be back up to his feet in a few days."

"That's good to hear." a relieved sigh escaped Heinrich's lips at the news. "How about your other wounded?"

"Treatment is still in progress given the amount of knights injured in that last skirmish. Also, the lack of medical supplies isn't helping so we had to resort to old methods of treatment using whatever herbs we could gather." the cleric helpfully supplied as he finished patching up Sigfried. "Had it not been for your timely intervention we would have—"

"Don't. I merely did what I deemed prudent." Heinrich interrupted the cleric's train of thought. "Knight Commander Sigfried isn't made of glass that he would be broken so easily. For now, let us focus our efforts into getting back as much as we can of Kaiser Outpost's fighting capacity."

"O-of course sir." The cleric bowed in acknowledgment. "Well then, I'll be doing what I can in the ward. Feel free to call for me when and if you need further assistance."

Heinrich nodded quietly and watched the cleric silently leave Sigfried's room. His eyes then slowly moved towards the form of the recuperating Knight Commander; it was not everyday that such a great fighter would find themselves in such a state. Whoever Sigfried crossed swords with, Heinrich could only surmise that they knew him well, well enough to take advantage of Sigfried's fighting habits and use them against him. While he may not have had the chance to intimately know Sigfried's opponent with the use of his own sword, Heinrich knew well enough to know that whoever he was, he clearly had knowledge about the way of Pristine Knights. It was alarming above all else to know that the enemy had someone like that in their ranks, and even more worrisome that they now chose to take action.

Heinrich's attention shifted over to the doors of Sigfried's room when they suddenly creaked open.

"Sir Heinrich." greeted Sigfried's temporary Vice Commander. "Reports about Kaiser Outpost's sustained structural damage and current supply inventory." he said as he handed over a thin stack of papers for the other to peruse. "I've also included a list of knights still capable for duty as well as a list of supplies we're either short of or out of."

"Outstanding work." Heinrich said while skimming over the reports he acquired. "Any news from the sweeper squads?"

"The immediate vicinity of Kaiser Outpost has been cleared of any threats. We're currently not in any immediate danger sir."

Heinrich hummed thoughtfully at the information. It would appear that he was right with his initial assumption of the enemy's goals. That first attack was simply a test of strength; having hurt Kaiser Outpost's Knight Commander in the process was just an added bonus. "They will strike again." Heinrich concluded with certainty. "This time when they do, there will be no quarter."

"W-what should we do then?" there was slight panic in the Vice Commander's voice as he spoke.

"What we can of course." Heinrich replied calmly. "While I do not have jurisdiction over Kaiser Outpost, it is clear that we can't count on your Knight Commander during the next set of events to follow. Therefore, I shall assume command over what's left of your men and proceed with preparations against another attack. Of course just until Sigfried here is back on his feet, or until we have dealt with the impending threat against this outpost. Whichever comes first."

"I'm relieved that you're going so far for us Sir Heinrich but... what of Hiribah?"

Heinrich simply eyed the curious vice commander. "If you must know, Hiribah can stand on its own even without me commanding my men. My town is in good hands." he placated the other. "Now then, let us leave Sigfried in peace and continue this discussion elsewhere."





Gless - Grand Cathedral


A surprised Guilford and Joaquim was what Cora found inside squad eight's quarters when she opened (nearly kicked down) the doors. "Gil!" she vocally demanded attention, face flushed and cheeks puffed like she was ready to hit someone should they come close. "We need to talk." she insisted, closing the doors behind her as she continued in.

"Okay... Normally I would say that was rude of you but judging from your tone and body language, I'm assuming this is a matter I can't ignore, am I right so far?"

A squint and a pout was all Guilford got in response, prompting the male Seraph to hastily conclude his discussion with Joaquim and turn his full attention to the fuming cleric. "Have a seat." he gestured for Cora to take a spot in the couch where Joaquim was already seated. The other grudgingly obliged taking the spot directly in front of Guilford. "Now then, what's gotten you so upset?"

"Where are the medical supplies that we requested for expedition?" she went straight on point. "A few days ago, I made an appeal to Councilor Livius about the situation in Lindela. Have you been made aware?" Cora inquired, hazel eyes pinning their gaze unto the Seraph.

"Yes I have. When I first heard of this, I had Joaquim look into it and he and I were discussing his findings earlier before you gracefully walked in on us." a bit of sarcasm as he informed her.

"And what of it? Where are my supplies? The Sanctuary has been getting a lot of requests for additional supplies to be dispatched as well as more clerics to get on site. Do you have any idea about how much manpower the Sanctuary has already sent there? Any more and there won't be anyone left here in Gless! If things keep going at this rate, even I will have to get on site if we don't do something soon!"

Guilford resisted the urge to sigh. "Calm down Cora. These are tough times and we all know it. A possible epidemic just isn't what we need right now but all I can say is that we're doing our best. The pharmacies here in Gless have been trying to ramp up their production but we just recently found out that they too are having trouble with shortage in processed material."

"What?! Why?!" the young cleric gasped in horror.

"Cora, I'm sure you're aware that majority of our pharmacies depend on processed material coming from Lindela to make medicine. The recent attack halted the shipment of said processed material and given the sudden spike in medical consumption, our stocks here in Gless have been emptied long before we could think that we still have them. Not just that but Palaugrim too is feeling the effects of this medicinal shortage."

"It can't be..." she was at a loss for words.

"Adding more to that, Lindela's material processing structures have also taken a good beating." Joaquim added. "Without them functional, we can't process raw material into something our pharmacies could use. Not to worry though, we have Fiona and Natalia prioritize getting them back up and operational as we speak."

"How long would that take?! More and more clerics are complaining about fatigue for having to rely on magic treatment instead of having medicine to give for simple illnesses! We need something immediate!"

"I know. I'm aware of that Cora and that's why I'm going to ask you to have Lady Heidie instruct all of her clerics to resort to traditional treatment methods."

"Traditional treatment? You mean like using the mortar and pestle to grind herbs?" Cora had to ask to be sure.

Guilford nodded. "I'm sorry Cora, but at the moment this is the best I can offer. At least until we can get the pharmacies producing again. I'll assign knight squads into gathering raw material instead and have them shipped over to Lindela for your clerics to use. Just send me a list of herbs you'll definitely be needing."

Cora let out a heavy sigh. "Alright fine, I'll get you your list and let Lady Heidie know of your plan."

She had not expected things to turn out the way they did but she had no reason to doubt Gil's and Joaquim's findings regarding the matter of this medical supply shortage. She could only hope that whatever they were doing was enough to actually contain the epidemic and not have it spread over to Gless. She was just about to open her mouth and suggest a quarantine but decided against it. Taking one last look at both men with her, Cora bowed in apology for her earlier behavior and quietly left the room.





Lindela - District 5


"Yes of course, this should do it." Fiona skimmed over the reconstruction plan presented by the head carpenter. "If we could work on this as fast as possible, it would be greatly appreciated." she handed over the plan and turned her gaze over to the ruined structure, a defeated sigh escaped her lips. There was nothing to repair for the structure itself had been utterly devastated.

"Sorry Fiona. We tried to protect this structure but district five was one of those districts who took a massive hit." Lance tried to explain the current state of the crumbled building in front of them.

"It's fine Lance. None of us have to explain ourselves." she smiled at him faintly. "If it was me, I'd trade this structure for civilian lives in a heartbeat anytime."

"But isn't this a vital structure? For the pharmacies if I'm not mistaken?" Yulia inquired.

"That's right. That's why the Captain wanted this up and operational at the soonest." Fiona crossed her arms above her chest. "Apparently, this was a raw material processing facility. Without this, our pharmacies can't make medicine, or so I've been told."

Lance contemplated on Fiona's words. "...and given the amount of people getting sick by the day..." he thought out loud. "Have you heard anything about the cause of that spreading illness yet?" he asked Yulia.

The blonde shook her head sideways. "The clerics were unable to give me a definitive answer during my inquiries. They didn't even give me their best guess! They said they didn't want to start a panic with baseless assumptions."

"It's the right thing to do." Fiona chimed in. "Times like these, the best you could do is to keep the people calm." she added.

"I agree but still... what do you think caused this?" Lance scratched his head.

"Hyuga said it's too early for the bodies of the dead to start a plague, but he had been working on that matter just to be on the safe side. He also said that whatever disease was spreading, the most vulnerable were children and the elderly; it had something to do with our immune systems or so he theorized."

"Does that mean adults are least likely to contract the illness?" Yulia asked, a tad bit worried for her own health.

Fiona frowned. "It's hard to say. Hyuga said as far as he knows, everyone on this island could already be infected and that it might be for the best interest of everyone to have Lindela quarantined."

Lance was surprised by what he just heard. "Whoa now! Isn't that taking it a bit too far? I mean, Lindela on quarantine? Now of all times? If you ask me, if we did that, we might as well just ask the people to revolt."

"My thoughts exactly. The people here have been through enough. Let's not give them a reason to hate us but instead a reason to stay strong. This is why we need these structures functional at the soonest, to give people hope." Fiona turned to look at both Lance and Yulia. "As much as I'd like to stay and oversee its construction personally, I'm afraid this isn't the only facility of the same nature on this island. I have to go see the state of the others as well and see to it that they are brought to full functionality as soon as possible."

"Sounds like a tedious job. Do you need more people to help you with that? I can lend you Yulia here." Lance offered.

Fiona respectfully declined with a gentle smile. "I appreciate it Lance but from what I heard, District Five lost its Knight Commander and that you are currently filling that spot."

"Uhh... well... yeah... sort of." Lance looked away with a sheepish grin.

"Lions are born leaders Lance," Fiona extended her hand towards the orange-haired captain, the other doing the same for a handshake. "but a lion was a cub first that needed guidance before it can lead. Yulia served under a knight commander, she can show you the ropes. Besides, I have Nat, Vlad and Alfrei for help. There's that guy named Dietrich too, Joaquim's friend, helping out as well so I think I got that covered. You can help me by being the one to personally oversee its construction though."

"Lance winked in approval. "You got it. I'll have this facility up as soon as possible."

_________________

[[Day 8 of Month -3 :: Lindela ]]

With ten helping pairs of hands, it hadn’t taken long to transform the spare building beside the clinic into a basic medical ward. The lack of supplies had, ironically, made the transition even easier: curtains and bedrolls were easier to set up than walls and bed frames. Unfortunately, as Valiar had feared, the med ward was already about half full and he knew Seika was eyeing the next adjacent building speculatively. It was always better to err on the side of caution, especially when transmittable diseases were in play.

Valiar’s musings were cut off by the pungent smell of soap. His nose wrinkled in distaste and he looked around to find that he’d accidentally wandered into what looked like a laundry room. A group of men and women labored in front of a massive, soapy tub. Four gazes turned to look at him and he recognized a pair of yellow eyes. “Deimos, a moment?” His squadmate straightened and handed off the stick he’d been using to stir the laundry. Falling into step, the two Knights wandered upwards until they were on the top floor. The smell of cleaning liquid lingered, eliciting a cough from the black-haired man. “What did you find, industrial cleaner?” The brunet strode over to the windows and tugged them open to let the breeze in. “How did you find that?! And do we still have any left over? That’s good.” He looked outside before deciding he didn’t want the conversation carried off into the streets. Returning to his squadmate’s side, the dark-haired Knight collapsed to the ground in a sitting position.

“We’ll probably need it for the next building as well.” The weight of Deimos’s silent gaze burned the side of his head and Valiar sighed, “I know Seika doesn’t think it will stop here. The other districts have reported similar cases; some seem to also think we might be having an outbreak. As to what exactly…” The cleric lifted a hand up, either in a show of helplessness or a show of supplication. “If we’re lucky, just a cold.. or a flu.” His hand dropped back to the ground. “The symptoms are generic enough besides the excessive sweating, but sweating isn’t really an indication of anything. No official inquiry yet but it’s probably just a matter of time until the Council set up a task force.”

Deimos canted his head to the side.

“Nah, well, yes, Lethe could probably get one set up, but..” Valiar didn’t want to bother his poor captain about such an issue when someone else could deal with it. “I’ve already put in a request with the Sanctuary detailing my and Seika’s suspicions. I’m sure Head Cleric Heidie will start the process; if we can see it on the ground already, she must also be seeing it in from high up.”

Satisfied with the answer, the rear guard took a seat as well beside his friend.

“Are things okay with you? No trouble with the District Commander?” A shoulder shrugged uncaringly. “Does she need them back?” Lips quirked downwards before smoothing back into apathy. “That’s good, we need every pair of hands we can get… Although if it does get worse, just you ten alone won’t be enough. Lights! If only we weren’t so short staffed everywhere! I don’t even need Pristine Knights! If we could get some healthy bodies to help with cleaning and basic nursing...” The sudden return of Deimos’s stare quelled Valiar’s complaints; the black-haired man turned to look at his teammate. Though his face remained impassive, Valiar could tell Deimos was working his mind towards something.. big, creative, innovative--the medic wasn’t sure what was coming, but he was sure it would be a solution of some sort.

The oppressive environment of concentration faded as a solution was determined. The grey-haired Knight climbed back to his feet and then glided to the recently open window. Looking down over the window, Deimos nodded towards one of the pairs in queue. A worried looking mother clutched a fitful child. Even from three stories away, Valiar could tell the infant was sick and most likely had whatever illness was plaguing Lindela. What about the pair was unusual enough to earn Deimos’s interest? It looked like many of his other patients; he didn’t need more sick people, he needed healthy bodies willing… to…

“Do you think they would?” Valiar wondered over the rising swell of hope in his chest. “You’re right, of course they would. But someone needs to oversee them…” He followed Deimos’s new line of sight and it led into the distance, vaguely in the direction of his home. “If we put a cleric in training to oversee the more technical side, then Marielle or some of the other Church volunteers can coordinate the volunteers. Yes. Yes.” Valiar grabbed his squadmate and squeezed him tightly. “This could work. Thank the Light for you Deimos!” The veteran released the yellow eyed man and went running down the stairs, raising a racket as he descended. “Seika. Seika!”

Cricket twirled a necklace around one finger as he sped through the eastern edge of District Twelve. Really, “necklace” was a bit generous of a term; it was a loop of string with a fragment of empowered Regalia Quartz at the end. His glorious task was to find a home for the numerous Regalia Quartz shards Stuffy had procured before the attack on Lindela, preferably, to use Stuffy’s words, “in remote areas with little thoroughfare.” The reminder of his fellow knight had the purple-haired man huffing in annoyance. While he was glad Stuffy had recovered from whatever had happened during the attack on Lindela, he wouldn’t have minded if that stick up Stuffy’s ass had stayed lost. Really… Though his running never paused, Cricket lifted the trinket to eye-level and stared at the fragment. What was the point of these?

Though it glimmered in the light, the gem shed no answers and after a moment of staring, the purple-haired Knight sighed deeply again and turned his attention back to running. Coming to a halt, he checked around him. Mountain to one side; field and then empty air to the other. A look behind him confirmed the only tracks he could see were his own. Remote area with little thoroughfare: check.

Walking to one of the bushes, Cricket looped the Regalia Quartz around one of the branches and then marked its location on his map. Task completed, he extracted another shard and continued his search for his next drop-off location.



[[Day 14 of Month 5 :: Lindela]]

There were times that Valiar hated being right and this was one of those times. He took a deep draw from his coffee, letting the lukewarm liquid slide down his throat. In twenty minutes or so, the caffeine would kick in. Until then, the familiar mantle of exhaustion rested heavily on his shoulders. He took another sip of his drink, methodically consuming the pale brown liquid, even as his attention was focused on the lit building beside him. Despite it being night, every floor was illuminated. Through the panes of light, he could see silhouettes moving around, no doubt their new nurses hard at work.

The only silver lining had been Deimos’s suggestion had panned through. It had been easy enough to recruit the worried parents to act as nurses. The teachings of the Light encouraged volunteering and helping, and the fact those being helped were their own children, their neighbors’ children, or the local elderly had only made the offer more attractive. He had reluctantly returned some of District Commander Carey’s Pristine Knights to her command. As much as he would have preferred having Pristine Knights around to tackle this outbreak, he knew there were other tasks that could use them more, especially now that he had a virtual army of assistants.

Swallowing the dregs of his coffee, Valiar turned away from the window he’d been brooding by. No matter his thoughts, there was work to be done. He shrugged his shoulders to loosen them even as he headed towards the break room. He’d just put his mug away and then return to the examination room.

“Ah-Ah-choo!”

He turned a concerned gaze to his coworker; Cleric Jenna was approaching him, clearly headed in the opposite direction, and rubbing at her nose.

“Are you alright, Jenna?”

Pale brown eyes looked at him before a tight smile appeared on the younger cleric’s face. She nodded decisively, but it lacked her normal cheer. “I’m fine, thanks Valiar. Just a bit..” She waved a hand at the other building. An outbreak was tiring on all clerics, regardless of how many years of experience they had. For a new graduate like her, it was no doubt even harder.

The black-haired Knight shared a sympathetic smile, his gaze also darting towards the other building. He wanted to tell her not to push herself too hard but it’d be a waste of breath. There wasn’t really the concept of ‘conservation of strength’ when dealing with a plague. They needed to identify the plague, contain it, and eliminate it as quickly as possible before it could spread further. “It’ll be okay,” he said instead, though both knew the words held no certainty, “The Divine Light will guide us and keep us safe.”

Jenna bobbed her head in reply, a tremulous smile playing on her lips. Just those familiar words instilled some level of comfort but even they couldn’t hide the cold fact they all knew: not everyone would survive. Death during an epidemic was inevitable. However, neither voiced those thoughts; instead, Jenna softly repeated the words before continuing down the hall towards the quarantine ward.

Remorseful black eyes stared after her; it was a pity that not even a year out of training and Jenna already had to deal with one of the hardest parts of clerichood. Illness, especially a widespread one like this one, was never pleasant. With a shake of his head, and a reminder of how long their waiting queue still was, Valiar hurried towards the break room to drop off his mug. The caffeine was finally starting to kick in and there were more than enough patients waiting for him.

[[Day 15 of Month -5 :: Grand Cathedral, Gless ]]
“There you are.” The not-quite-accusation had Lethe pausing. With an unexplainable feeling of guilt, the White Seraph slowly turned to face her accuser. Master Jung waited patiently behind her. When he saw he had her attention, the old swordsmaster continued, “Let’s go.”


“To where?” Lethe asked, feeling like a particularly obtuse student. Had he been looking for her? Why? She didn’t recall having any meetings set up with him today; had she somehow forgotten?

“I agreed to train you and Guilford; recent events have delayed it but I think have also stressed the need for it.” He turned and started walking down the hallway, Lethe trailing him like a lost puppy. “I believe Guilford is in his squad quarters now?” She nodded despite it being a rhetorical question, “we’ll go collect him and begin.”

“Put your mind and spirit into it!” the seasoned master scowled. In his eyes, Guilford lacked focus and was falling behind by a mere second from the sword dance routine he had the two Seraphs doing. The goal was simple, flow like water, calm and in unison. However, the blue-haired Seraph seemed to be distracted, much to Master Jung’s distaste.

“I expect nothing less than your full commitment when I agreed to train both of you. Recent events demand that you do.”

The younger Seraph flinched, knowing the words were directed at him. True, he had been distracted lately, especially with a certain something sensitive in mind: the Hidden Truth, the one thing that kept him from giving this training everything he had. On the other hand, Lethe seemed fine, much more so than he actually thought she’d be. He’d wondered if now would be the best time to let her into the small circle of those who knew, maybe.. just maybe.

“Sorry. I’ll try to focus.” Guilford appealed. “It’s not so easy given what’s currently going on..” he tried to reason.

“All the more reason for you to dedicate yourself to this training. Reasons don’t matter, results do. The sooner you complete this training, the more confident you will be in your future endeavors.”

Chastised, the male Seraph let out a soft sigh. He looked at his training partner and smiled apologetically. He hated having to drag her down. “Let’s try this again from the top shall we?”

“Actually,” Lethe replied with an uneasy look at the other Knight, “perhaps we should take a break..?” Her attention turned to their instructor and she smiled apologetically as well, “If we--I could just have a few minutes?” Despite the old man’s unapproving frown, she straightened and let her sword come to rest at her side. When Master Jung had turned away, she discreetly activated a privacy ward. “Are you alright Gil..?”

The inquiry lightly startled the male Seraph. His well-being was being questioned, something he had no apparent answer to, at least not at the moment. “I-I’m fine.” he stuttered, looking away to avoid eye contact with the other. He clearly had his mind elsewhere, and part of it involved her of all people. “I guess I’m just exhausted from having to deal with the aftermath.”

It was half the truth. “How about you? You seem oddly chipper given what’s going on.”

Lethe’s uneasy look grew into incredulity as Gil spoke. Why was he so.. hesitant? He normally was much more composed than this nor did he normally make so many excuses. However, she hid her thoughts from her face when he turned his attention to her. “I wouldn’t say I’m chipper,” she contradicted, “but we need to improve. As we are now, as the Immaculate is now,” her attention turned to look in the direction of the main Chapel of the Grand Cathedral, “we can’t defeat Sin. I don’t think so, and nor do you, do you?”

“I know. We don’t stand a chance…” he trailed off.

She shook her head helplessly, “so we must do what we can. This training, the third rite…” It was her turn to sigh, “well, we’ll have to cross that bridge later, won’t we? For now, we have to do what we can, and that’s learning what we can from Master Jung.”

Guilford’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Third Rite. As she said, it was a bridge they would have to cross at a later time. However, it was the one bridge that needed to be crossed of their own free will, free from any influence of neither belief nor duty. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” he murmured, eyes falling down to the hilt of his sword. “Say, can I ask you something?”

Lethe peeked a glance at Master Jung. He had clearly seen their private conversation and although annoyed, he was pointedly giving them space. “Sure, though brief might be best.” She flashed a smile to show she meant no offense.

Guilford scoffed but returned the smile regardless. He had not intended to take much more of their time; he just had to get something out of his chest. “Everything that happened recently, even what’s currently happening now, don’t you think it’s a bit too much for the people? Do you think the Divine Light meant for this to happen? Is this all a test?”

“A test?” Lethe parroted, brows furrowed in confusion. “A test of what?”

“Faith? Resilience? Worth?” Guilford tried to find the words to best explain what he meant but to no avail. A blank look of incomprehension covered Lethe’s face; she clearly had no idea what he was trying to say. “We believe the Light would never give us anything that we can’t handle right? But what exactly is the extent of that? How much can we actually take?”

A bemused smile quirked Lethe’s lips upwards, “and how would I know that? Isn’t it when we rise to the occasion that we truly see what we’re capable of? Start with what’s possible, then try the improbables, and then, someday, we will be doing the impossible. Did any of us think a decade of peace was possible twelve years ago? Fifteen years ago? These last ten years, wouldn’t they be considered the impossible when we were still trainees? Of course we dreamed of it, but it was just a dream then. And then, it became reality. So, really Gil, how much can we actually take?” She shook her head at the futility of answering such a question, “Only the Divine Light knows.”

Guilford sighed at her words, a mix of uncertainty and depression began swirling at the pit of his stomach. “Yeah…” he paused, her last words ringing clear inside his mind. “And the Divine Light was there every step of the way right?” he tried masking his sarcasm as best as he could. She didn’t know anything yet and it would seem her belief in the Divine Light would forever remain unshaken if not for what he and a select few knew.

A distinct clearing of the throat made it clear Master Jung’s patience had come to an end. With an apologetic smile to their teacher, Lethe released the privacy spell but the peaceful smile she sent Guilford’s way made clear her answer.

He would have to try again some other time, perhaps when they were no longer in the prying eyes of the old swordmaster. The only good thing that came out of their short exchange was that he now knew how deep the roots of her faith ran, perhaps too deep to be ripped out now.

_________________

Day 15 of Month 5: Grand Cathedral, Gless


Guilford's heart sank at those words. His already ailing heart felt like it had been stabbed a few more times as he came to realize how deeply rooted her faith in the Light was. She was right too on all counts. Nobody believed they could win against the God of Sin all those years ago. Nobody in their wildest dreams believed that the raising of the four islands to serve as the people's new home would last as long as it did. They were still here, they were all here. Granted, not all the islands embraced the Light once again but they still stand.

"How much can we actually take?"

How much indeed? He did not really know, now that he thought about it. Perhaps he was underestimating the resilience of the people, their belief in the Light. After all, what is the meaning of one's life if they do not have something or someone to believe in? Someone or something to trust in times of need?

As he prepared himself to resume their training with the visibly ruffled old master (for having been excluded in a conversation right in his face) the male Seraph came to realize a few things. With the privacy ward dissipating and the old master grumpily approaching, Guilford steadied his breathing and resumed his stance.

For all intents and purposes, The Hidden Truth which was revealed to him by their former captain Abel, shattered what he grew up to know about the Light. Even so, right then and there he had made a choice to keep moving forward with his own two feet. Lights! Even their old captain was risking his life again for Light's cause right this very moment, despite having knowledge of that piece of truth. His own friends - The Crests, not just one but all of them who had been privvy to that truth are also fighting again, for the people and for Light's cause.

Does it mean the truth he knows does not matter? Does it not matter that the Light was the one who paved way for Sin to happen and in that moment, the people had been tasked to cleanup the aftermath and suffer these horrendous consequences? By the Light it did. None of this would have happened if the Light had a more active hand at stopping what transpired from spiraling out of control.

Wishful thinking.

Guilford looked at Lethe as she continued to pepper him with practice swings of her sword which he methodically parried. The conviction in her eyes as she did sent direct slashes to his heart, breaking through his defense. How could this woman be so strong?

"Protect her, Guilford."

His father words, ones that were shared not too long ago the last time he went home, suddenly rang through his mind. It became painfully clear that he was the one who sought after protection. He was the one who did not want to be alone with his truth. He was the one who nearly... just nearly shattered this woman's peace - and her peace was with the Light. Who was he to take that away from her?

Does she deserve to know? Yes! By all accounts yes. She had a duty, she had a commitment to the people who believed in her. She deserved to know her convictions are in the right place. However, does she need to know this truth?

No. At least not now anyway.

His musings were interrupted by a sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down to find a hilt of a sword, a blow gifted to him by his fellow Seraph who took advantage of his lapse in focus with a cheeky grin on her face. One that he immediately returned with a counter leg sweep as he was sent reeling to the ground, his blow taking away her balance sending her butt first to the ground as well, packaged with a cheeky grin of his own.

Purple eyes met surprised blue ones. If it meant protecting the scowl--smile on this woman's face, then this was his cross to bear. Maybe someday, if they live through the impending ordeal they have to face, maybe then they could talk.

He was the one wavering, his beliefs were the ones faltering. Perhaps it was him selfishly seeking solace by finding kinship to share his troubles with, yet he must not. Now was not the time. If his friends found a way to return to their old convictions despite everything, he can too.

Hidden things were hidden for a reason. Perhaps it is best to not needlessly unearth them.

"Again!" yelled the old master, prompting the two to reset their stances.


_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________



Barrens - Attack Squad



The Dreamer's research of cleansing tainted soil was proving its worth to the squad led by Abel. It was by no means complete, but more than enough to create tiny patches of taint free land in the barrens... temporarily that is. The concept was simple. Former Sin crystals, now turned holy are being used as wards with the use of binding and warding runes. They had been set up to form a perimeter that will push out and cleanse the taint creating a sin-free space where people can stay without risks of falling to Sin.

The downside? The crystals need to be recharged with holy magic every so often. However, with the crystal's property of amplifying magic it absorbs, the required amount of holy magic to charge them is significantly lower than having to keep up Prayer while in the barrens. This allows for extended skirmishes in the barrens. Not only that, Holy crystals passively push out the taint of Sin even without catalysts like seals or runes so carrying one in a satchel gives the bearer protection. Such a discovery was just one of the many breakthroughs Hyuga's research yielded.

Now the math problem. The larger the taint, the more crystals required to cleanse the area. While the Immaculate had amassed quite the stockpile of these crystals through skirmishes and discoveries around Palaugrim and Lindela, they still do not have enough to rid the barrens expanse of taint.. at least not until the sources of said taint are rid from the land.

Inside a cave, several miles from where Akira found Eve's fortress, Abel's team gathered. Weary from travel but ever vigilant. There was a rigid silence among the group. A few members were tending to their weapons and a couple were staring at their campfire. Abel was one such soul gazing into the dancing red flame before them.

He had briefed his team en-route to the Barrens but he has not told them everything he had discussed with the councilors. He gathered his thoughts and looked at each individual that were with him now. These were strong knights, the lot of them. Veterans and aged yes, but exceptional at what they do. These knights were not with the vanguard that pushed forward to battle the God of Sin, their squad assignments were to hold the permeter against the forces of Sin while the vanguard took down their primary quarry. The battle outside the God of Sin's castle was an entirely different tale on its own. Easier if only for the fact that the God of Sin was not outside, but harrowing due to the sheer number of losses they had trying to keep the vanguard's rear clear of any threat.

"We know about La Gamme, Captain Abel."

Councilor Mihai's words echoed in his mind. It is no surprise they would know, they were the head of the Immaculate after all.

"What we're asking you to do is a hard pill to swallow... but we need a miracle - now more than ever!"

At what cost? Just their lives of course, nothing to it.

He scoffed at the reminder. He had just been asked to lay down his life and seven others to defeat Eve once and for all and cut the fighting power of their adversary in half, just as they did back then. Who are they to say it would be the same now? He did it once, out of sheer luck! Now they they think it had become a proven strategy of beating Eve?

The Lightbringer bit his lip in frustration. He recalled the blue eyes that judged him for his actions not too long ago, the purple ones that stared at him quietly and passively that offered no consolation in their gaze. He had failed then, which cost him the lives of two members of Squad Seven. However, that failure had been sung a major victory for the Immaculate. Lightbringer his ass! He didn't want the title! He loathes it! He carried it around with him as a reminder of his failure - of how things would have been entirely different had he only succeeded in sealing Eve on his own. It was painful enough to had lost two lives, now he's being given seven more to lose... such is the irony of his defeat turned victory.

“When they die, it will be because we could not stop the Council, not because we trusted them to the wrong man.”

The words from the female Seraph resurfaced with an oddly familiar sting. The council thought he was the right man for the job clearly, and entrusted seven more sacrifices for a repeat of history. A miracle they said.

"No... This is not how it is supposed to be." He mumbled, catching the attention of everyone inside the cave, even Akira who was standing watch by the entrance.

"What are you talking about? Lost your nerve Lightbringer?" Aldus chided.

"Hardly." he glared at the feiry knight. "There's something more I need to tell you all..." he immediately continued.

Akira who was by the entrance left a sentry ward and walked back into the cave, ready to listen. When they all have their attention focused on Abel, the old man continued.

"Let me tell you the story about my victory against Eve." he emphasized the word. He had no plans of leaving even a minute detail out of this tale before he recounts it to his crowd.

A tale from a renowned legend. All ears wanted to hear it, attention focused on the old white knight as he began. It was not long before color drained from the faces of his audience, and the mood severely dampening around the campfire. It was not a victory but a tragedy, glorified to bolster morale and allow the knights to push forward to the final battle against the God of Sin.

Hours passed after his retelling and not a word had been spoken inside the cave. Akira was back by the entrace standing watch, and the rest of the knights inside either found something to do, or were contemplating on their own. Not only did he tell them how he won against a terrifying opponent, he had also told them about the method they took, La Gamme and everything he knew about it.

"Us being here now means we're already dead is that it?" Ouen softspokenly talked. All eyes fall to the speaker.

"I'm not ready to die." said the male Aylard, followed by a nod from the female Aylard knight. "We have a son, daughter-in-law and a grandchild to get back to." She added.

"Bahh!" Aldus brashly voiced his frustration. "We're old, we're not too long in this world for what? Another good 10 - 15 years?" he questioned the folk with him. "Except for our watcher there..." he pointed at Akira, "we're hardly spring chickens. We've lived a good life through the short time of peace. I'm happy to go if it means taking one of the more troublesome bastards with me." he continued. "I know what I signed up for." he spoke before finally falling to silence.

Sienna who was aptly listening to the ongoing converstation looked around the cave. "I'm thankful for the ten years of peace we've enjoyed given by our Seraphs. Had it not been for them securing victory against the God of Sin, I never would have had the chance to see my daughter grow to be a fine lady." she mused, letting one hand fall to the hilt of her sword. "I am ready to give back for the younger generation." she concluded.

"As am I." Milluel the ever quiet knight followed suit.

"I...." Akira began, unsure if he wanted to add his piece to the congregation of old souls by their campfire. His thoughts flying back towards the warmth in his hand that he shared with someone not too long ago. "I want to settle down... start a family and see what this future holds for me." he finally mustered the courage to speak his mind.

"Spoken like a man who found love." Ouen jested, shifting in his seat with a melancholic grin. "Fine. I guess I too have done what I needed to do during the time of peace. Now is as good a time as any." he added. "So, how do we do this exactly?"

Abel sighed heavily, after having listened to the innermost thoughts of the knights he led here. "As I said... it does not have to be this way." he reiterated. "We will go with my alternative plan. I do not want to sacrifice any of you for another empty victory." he stated firmly.

He had never deviated from Council orders ever. But there is and will always be a first time for everything. His alternative plan means a prolonged stay in the Barrens, and a mountain of preparation, however he too had been moving behind the scenes for this moment. New ties were established and old ties rekindled.

"Trust me when I say this is not going to be seven knights against an army." Abel confidently said. "I intend to bring you all back home."

Confusion descended upon the group but interest greatly accompanied it. There was an alternative plan? One where they have a chance to get back home?

"Well now.. you've been holding back on us you geezer! Out with it! Sign me up again!" Aldus cheerfully jested, the traces of solemnity now gone from his voice.


_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Gless: Grand Cathedral Auxilliary Training Grounds


Squad eight was hard at training. Alfrei had gathered the members to work on their coordination as a squad. Their goal, each member should be able to effectively work with any member of Squad Eight. While they were a group of proficient knights, Alfrei knew the only way they can take their squad to the next level is by polishing how effectively they can work with all the members. This required practice, familiarity with all the nuances and preferences of each individual knight in the squad and adapting on the fly.

A few members of The Crests were there too, mostly observing but giving insight when consulted.

In terms of sheer squad firepower, minus the Seraph captains, Squad Eight is among the top five squads in active service. Alfrei having finished his turn of drills were back to one side of the training grounds, perusing prowess reports of individuals and squads alike, including sparring results that were scribed each time any squad practices against another. He was surprised the Archives had such records and had it not been for Omi whom he stumbled across by chance loitering inside Squad Eight quarters, he never would have known that such squad records are being kept and documented. Just where do these scribes come from anyway?

No matter, their efforts in documentation will greatly speed up his endeavor of improving their squad performance.

Georg walked up to Alfrei quietly, having finished his own round of drills and was off for a short break. He glanced at the paperwork in Alfrei's hands and smirked in approval. "Now you're looking more and more like a true Vice Captain." he jokingly mentioned to the man burying himself in papers.

"What do you mean?" Alfrei nonchalantly asked.

Cocking his head to the side in thought, Georg continued. "This is pretty much what Brynhildr does every other night at her place."

Alfrei paused at the mention of their late Vice Captain's name. "Did she now?" he questioned.

"That she did. I've been ocassionaly invited to consult on tactics every now and then." Georg recalled. "How do you think she comes up with various drills back then?"

It was true. During Brynhildr's time as their Vice Captain, they were far more coordinated. It was during her time when they started being called the "strongest squad". She would actively call out orders for them, and command them with precision in the field. She never lost sight of their positions, she knows what spell to ask for and what orders to give during situations. She was in short, a better Vice Captain than he is, like a moving goalpost that he might never live up to.

Had it been Brynhildr leading them against the practice duel with Squad Ten back then, would the results be the same? Would it have been two to five in favor of the other squad?

Before Alfrei could get lost in thought, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"You're not doing a bad job keeping this squad together Vice Captain." Formality laced in Georg's tone. "We trust you. You should trust yourself more in the field."

"Two to Five against Master Lethe's squad and you say you trust me?" he exasperated. "Three times out of five we're all killed thanks to me."

Georg sighed heavily. "So you do hate to lose. That's good. It's a start. Brynhildr hates losing so much and that kept her on her toes. It's a good quality to have." he waved his arms in gesture. "Look kiddo, Vice Captain Adair is a very diligent Vice Captain -- to a fault if I may add. He has loads more experience being Vice Captain than you, but that does not necessarily mean he's better than you individually." Georg rested his hands on his waist. "When Captains are not around, Vice Captains are the ones that gives orders. You're used to following, he's used to giving. Do you understand the difference?" Georg continued, speaking from his experience and time as a Squad Captain.

"I do.. but then why aren't you the Vice Captain? Why did Captain pick me?" he bagan questioning the decision.

"Ohhh kiddo, I may have the qualifications, but I sure do not have the patience required for a second in command role. I am better off being a Captain, and have someone else worry about the details or be someone who just follows the lead." formality fading into casuality.

"The Captain picked you for a reason. You care about the people around you. You're self-aware, you put everyone else first before you. If I had a Vice Captain like you back then, I could rest easy!" he smiled a wide smile.

"Do you really think so?" Alfrei pondered.

"I know so!" Georg reaffirmed. "To lead is to do. When you do, people will follow. Why do you think we're all following Master Lethe and Captain for the matter?" he gestured, pertaining to all of the knighthood.

"Because they... do." Alfrei responded softly.

"That's right. We see them do things for the sake of everyone time and again. It's compelling. Leaders need to stand firm and resolute and must be able to see things through. Your heart is in the right place kiddo."

With renewed prespective, Alfrei smiled. "I will do my best. Thanks Georg."

The older knight waved at him as he began walking back to the training grounds for another round of drills. No other words need to be said. Alfrei looked down upon the documents he had on hand, prowess reports for Squad Ten. He will be studying them tonight.

Pulling out a desk drawer for a clean sheet of paper and a pen, Alfrei began to write.



Satisfied with his letter, he put his seal on it and had his carrier pigeon delivery it to the scribes. Two to five.. He has a lot of work to do.

_________________

[[Day 16 of Month -5 :: The Grand Cathedral, Gless]]

“Three additional archways were identified following our last meeting, bringing the total count of archways up to six, two per quadrant except quadrant four, in which none have been discovered. We then expanded our search criteria in quadrant four, dropping down to low probability locations as well and also spending a day each searching ad hoc. Although no archways have been located in quadrant four, given the increasing inefficiency of the search, I would recommend halting the search here.” Romauld concluded his debriefing, turning away from the map of his and his team’s efforts to look at Seraph Lethe.

The white haired woman was staring at the map, gaze roaming over the Xs, circles, and highlights marking each location the team had searched. “It’s rather suspicious that quadrant four has no teleportation arches at all given the others each had two.” She mused aloud. “But then again, you said you had performed extra checks in quadrant four, right?” At Romauld’s answering nod, she lapsed into silence once more. “YunQiao, your thoughts?”

The black-haired caster’s head jerked in surprise, sending a glance at his temporary leader before refocusing on his squad captain. “I agree with Captain Romauld’s recommendation. We have dedicated three additional days searching solely in Quadrant Four. Scribe Omi’s lists were fairly accurate, given what little background was available; I’m unclear what we could even target next: ‘possible but unlikely’ locations?”

Blue eyes continued staring at the map as the squad room lapsed into silence. “Very well then.” The Seraph concluded, “Especially given the epidemic breaking out on Lindela, it would be inefficient to continue this search anymore. Besides, I assume those trinkets you had Cricket distribute has something to do with this?”

YunQiao nodded his head, “Though not originally intended for this purpose, they can be a form of delayed alarm. They’re small enough that a trace of Pure Sinner or Demon should corrupt the regalia quartz, informing us that either have passed through the area. We’ll just need someone trustworthy to check them periodically.”

“Identify someone, run it by Captain Romauld, and then arrange it. I think weekly or twice weekly should be sufficient for now.” The two men bowed their heads in acceptance. “Good job, both of you.” And with that, the solemn air eased as Lethe stood up and smiled. “I’m satisfied with your work and the conclusion. Please extend my thanks to Leon and Scribe Omi as well.”

With a glance at the clock, her smile turned sheepish. “Sorry to be all work, but I have training with Master Jung and Guildford in ten minutes.” Hearing a stifled keen of interest from Romauld, Lethe sent an amused glance his way. “Would you like to come meet Master Jung?” Indecision warred on the brunet’s face before it settled into resignation. “No need,” he demurred, “I imagine you all are very busy. Either way!” he continued, voice forcefully rising in cheer, “I should probably go report back to District Three before Knight Commander Mikhael wonders whether I’ve run away.”

“Another time then” Lethe acquiesced with a soft laugh, strapping Luna to her waist. As she opened the door, she turned back to ask, “And you, YunQiao?”

The man glanced at the still messy room but turned to the door as well. He could come back later to clean up; it was a rare opportunity to spend some more time with his captain: “I’ll join you on the walk and then go find our runner.” With a wave of goodbye at the Palaugrimian, the two members of Squad Ten turned to the right and headed towards the training grounds.


[[Day 16 of Month 5 :: Lindela]]

It was a weary Adair and Seraphim who trodded into the Golden Sun for dinner. Though the reconstruction was progressing steadily, it was still slow going. Demolition had finally finished just three days ago but that milestone had been overshadowed by the rampant illness spreading through the island. Bypassing the [Closed] sign, the two Knights ascended the stairs to the second floor living quarters before collapsing into two of the kitchen chairs.

“Well hello to you two too.” Grisia greeted from in front of the stove, one hand occupied with stirring a pot. “It’s curry for dinner tonight; can either of you plate the rice?” A groan answered him as did the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor. “I’ll do it, brother.” Adair replied as he stood up, “Seraphim’s been stuck hauling materials around the district all day.”

A second groan affirmed the amber haired man’s statement. “What kind of light’s blessing is this?!” The pink haired Knight sobbed into the tabletop.

“It’s a blessing you can halve how long it takes for our construction materials to arrive.” Squad ten’s vice captain replied placidly, “Thanks to your efforts, District Five’s processing facility is ahead of schedule and should be completed in a few days.”

“That’s good to hear.” Grisia’s reply cut over Seraphim’s muted wail of distress, “We’ll need that facility running as soon as possible; it’s dreadfully hard to find medicine these days.” The blonde shook his head in concern as he carried the pot of curry to the table, nudging pink hair out of the way as he set it down. His younger brother followed, five plates of rice balances on his arms. “Oh, Lesus is running some errands so he may be late. Roland is taking a nap upstairs, let me go wake him.” Running a critical eye over the worn faces, the former Cleric continued, “You two may as well start eating first. I’ll be down soon.”

“Thank you Grisia.” Temporarily revived by the smell of food, Seraphim hauled herself up, one hand already ladling out the curry onto two plates. “Thanks brother” Adair concurred as he pulled a plate over to him. With a fond huff, the blond shook his head and left.

It was only halfway through her first plate that Seraphim suddenly looked around in confusion: “Your brother isn’t back yet?”

At the reminder, Adair also looked up, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Grisia was just going upstairs, why wasn’t he back–“ADAIR!!” The yell had both Knights startling to their feet, “ADAIR, GET UP HERE!” The amber-haired man darted up the stairs, his squadmate right behind him. Slamming into Roland’s room, they found a wide-eyed Grisia kneeling by a sleeping brunet, hands clasped. The soft glow of holy light enveloped the two men. “He won’t wake up.”

Seraphim pushed past her frozen vice captain, coming to the two older men’s side, and lightly slapped Roland’s face. “Hey, hey, wake up! Roland?” There was no reply. She pressed her hand against his forehead, grimacing as sweat coated her skin: “Why’s he so wet?”

“Seraphim, pick him up.” Adair ordered, impassive face barely suppressing the anxiety in his eyes. “We’re going to Valiar’s.”



Two knights bathed in white light sped through the rooftops, the force of their divine magic effectively clearing the way. Cradled princess style in both of their arms was a man each, one blonde with a worried looking face and one brunet, seemingly sleeping.

“Seraphim? Vice Captain?” A voice called out as a third knight joined them on the rooftops, undeterred by the Light’s Blessing rolling off the pair. “Hah? Grisia and Roland? Where are you guys going?” Confusion laced Cricket’s voice as he caught sight of the two bundles in his squadmates’ arms.

Pale lips pressed tightly before spitting out, “Valiar’s. Roland’s not waking up.”

Brown eyes narrowed on the sweat dotting the older brunet’s forehead, seriousness immediately taking over. “****, sweating sickness?” Glancing forward, Cricket frowned, “Valiar’s at the clinic. He won’t be at home. District Fifteen, intersection of Brook and Spruce.” The purple-haired man had just stopped by a few days ago to deliver herbs, having been drafted by Deimos into delivery work now that he’d finished rehoming all the Regalia Quartz necklaces. “I’ll go ahead and let him know.” Hearing a grunt of acknowledgement, he sped up out of sight.



“Excuse me, excuse me!” Cricket raised his voice to be heard over the ambient chatter, eyes focused on a grey-haired cleric a few paces away as he waved to get her attention. “Hey!” He grabbed the cleric’s arm, forcing her to a stop. Furious eyes turned in his direction but he paid it no mind, “I’m looking for Valiar; where is he?”

“Get in queue.” The older lady snapped back, “We’re not taking personal requests right now; whoever is available when it’s your turn will diagnose you.”

“I’m his squadmate,” Cricket pressed, urgency prompting him to pull rank, “Squad Ten’s Cricket, reporting to Seraph Lethe.” The first whispers of divine magic glowed in his eyes, not enough to attract anyone but enough to bring weight into the air around the two.

For a moment, blue eyes shook at the tendrils of divine magic before they quickly stabilized. “He’s in the second quarantine building on the fourth floor, corner room.” With a quick thanks, Cricket released the cleric and darted out the door, easily scaling the outside of the designated building.

Knock knock knock knock. The rapid tapping on the window quickly caught the cleric’s attention. Looking up, Valiar blinked in confusion as he saw a familiar looking purple-haired Knight perched on the room’s window sill. The shout of “Open the window!” spurred him into action as his foggy brain realized why his squadmate was, uncharacteristically, waiting outside and not just letting himself in. Dredging up a tired smile for his friend, Valiar unlocked the window and opened it, moving aside to let the other man in. “What brings you here Cricket?”

“Roland has sweating sickness and isn’t waking up. Seraphim and Adair are on their way now with him and Grisia.”

The shallow smile immediately fled at the grim news, fatigue returning in a sudden tide. The cleric closed his eyes for a moment to focus: “The fifth room over should be empty. Or the second on the other side, the one with a balcony.”

“Balcony, they won’t fit through the window with Roland and Grisia in their arms.” Shooting a look at the exhausted Valiar, Cricket frowned. “You sit down and rest, I’ll prepare the room.”

“Mask up, then clean linens are in the room right next door. Dirty in the basket at the stairwell landing.” It was a testament to how tired the black-haired man was that he didn’t even argue, instead gratefully sinking back into his office chair to cradle his head. With one last frown at his squadmate, Cricket left for the designated room.

_________________

Day 16 of Month 5 - Gless - Wyviera Docks


"Captain, is there anything else you need me to look into while you're out surveying progress on Lindela?" Alfrei asked his captain while brisk-walking beside him to one of the smaller Wyvieras in the dock.

The blue haired Seraph contemplated for a moment before looking back at his Vice Captain. "As much as I want to say continue with your training regimen with Squad Eight, you will have to move back your training schedule to later. There are other matters I actually want you to look into. he stated while continuing to one of the flying vehicles commissioned for his trip. "There has been an alarming increase in illnesses happening in Gless too. Lindela seems to be the ground zero but there is a potential outbreak happening and it's already spread this far." he stopped and turned to face his Vice Captain, pulling out a short missive he composed earlier from his pocket, stamped with his own seal. "Deploy Squad Eight, commission other squads on standby if there are any to patrol the major towns of Gless, see if there's anything amiss and more importantly, check if the town pharmacies and clergies have enough supplies."

He had heard about the murmurs of a potential outbreak from the advocates in the Grand Cathedral, as well as the clerics going in and out of The Sanctuary - it's not that hard to spot that something is amiss when The Sanctuary of Clerics is buzzing with activity. "An outbreak at this time..." Alfrei mumbled. It was far more serious than he was anticipating. If there's one thing they have all learned about an epidemic, it is a race against time. They need to nip it in the bud if they can or prepare to contain it as best they could if there's no cure available yet.

"As far as deployment goes, I leave it to your discretion. You have full command of Squad Eight until I get back from Lindela and my afternoon training with Master Jung and Master Lethe." With a pat on Alfrei's shoulder, Guilford boarded his flight off-island, looking back at Alfrei before the doors closed. "Also, check in with your families. See if they are alright."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Grand Cathedral - Squad Eight Quarters

With purposeful strides, Alfrei pushed open the doors of Squad Eight quarters, checking in on everyone that were already there preparing for their supposed drills early in the morning. "We're cancelling morning training. Squad Eight will sortie today around the island." He waved the missive with their Captain's seal for everyone to see.

At the mention of the word sortie, Squad Eight's game faces emerged from their much laid back expression before their Vice Captain walked in on them - there's no need for training clothes now. Almost immediately, each member of Squad Eight tossed their training gear and went to their lockers to change to their knight uniforms.

"We are to also commission other squads on standby so we can speed up the coverage of Gless. I just hope there are enough squads on standby here."

Alfrei also made his way to his locker to grab his swords and accessories for their task. "Our mission is to look into potential outbreak points starting with the major townships in Gless, then branching out into the smaller villages." He briefed his squad. "I'm sure you're all aware of the impending threat of sickness creeping into the island that began at Lindela. We are to assess the township and villages readiness to combat a plague, specifically the stockpile of their pharmacies and clergy houses." he continued briefing their squad.

"Are we splitting up for this one or are we operating as a squad?" Joaquim querried.

"It would be more prudent for us to split up and each lead a squad of knights, cover more ground that way." Hyuga immediately responded.

"Sounds good Hyuga, I was leaning on splitting us up anyway and lead a squad of knights starting outward to inward. Also, in this missive from the Captain, we have been authorized to utilize Wyvieras to travel around Gless." There was almost an audible sigh of relief from the Squad after hearing they have been cleared to fly around Gless.

"Well, that should make things a whole lot smoother and faster." Georg commented, hoisting his large sword to his back. "Is there anything in particular we should be keeping our eyes out for?" he added.

"The Captain made no mention but we'll know it when we see it.. when something is amiss that is." Alfrei responded. With his sword belt clipped on and his accessories at the ready, Alfrei turned to Squad Eight. "Let's move out!"


____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Grand Cathedral - General Knights Barracks


"Are you sure?" Alfrei querried the scribe at the barracks reception. "There's no Knight Squad on standby?"

The scribe once again looked at the knight logs for the third time, quickly browsing up and down one section of the document. "I-I'm afraid so Vice Captain Alfrei. At the behest of both Master Lethe and Master Guilford, in an effort to speed up repairs at Lindela, squads on standby here have been ordered to deploy. The available squads have already been deployed to active island duty at Lindela."


"What about knight squads rotating in? Are there any incoming squads at least?" a bit of panic already setting in Alfrei's tone. Gless was just way too big for seven knights even on Wyvieras. So this is what their Captain meant by "if there's any..."

"I'm sorry Vice Captain, the next rotation in wouldn't be for another four days."

With a sigh of defeat, Alfrei turned to the rest of his squad. All of them seemed to have already resigned the idea of traveling in-island all day checking towns and villages. "I guess it's up to us to--" Alfrei began but was interrupted by the scribe.

"I-if I may good Vice Captain, since you are on a mission from Master Guilford himself, I'm sure it is of great importance. While not completely standard practice... we sometimes commission seniors at the PKA for patrol missions, to give them a little bit of field experience before they graduate from the academy and move into Knight Reserve status." the scribe recounted, looking at a new logbook for records of previous deployments. "If memory serves, there should be several batches of senior knight trainees almost at the end of their terms at the PKA.

Squad Eight grew pale at the suggested alternative. "It's a bad idea Alfrei." Joaquim commented drily. "We're not going on a field trip. There could be danger." he added. "Out of all knight squads, there are two that's seldom deployed on peaceful missions..." he trailed off.

"Eight and Ten.." Natalia finished.

"I'm with Joaquim on this one. It's not practical to add babysitting duties on top of an active sortie." Vlad chimed in. Joaquim was right. Their Seraphs rarely ask their own squads to sortie on missions with relatively low danger or low priority.

"I'm okay with taking PKA Seniors with me." Hyuga blurted nonchalantly. "There's just no way we can cover enough ground in Gless with the seven of us and I have knights in the barrens depending on improvements from my research. I don't really have the luxury of time to travel town to town and village to village on my own."

"Heh! I'd say our mission is relatively low risk. I'm fine with a bunch of fledglings helping me out." Georg chuckled. "I'm confident enough I can keep them safe in Gless of all places."

"I'm with Georg and Hyuga." Fiona added. "How far off are they from completing their PKA Terms?" she turned to the scribe.

"They are about a week away from being moved to Knight Reserve status." the scribe answered.

Natalia cupped her chin in thought. "So in one week they will be knight reserves and shortly get reassigned to their own squads based on deployment needs.." she trailed. "I don't see why we can't give them early guidance by letting them get field experience with us."

"Then it is settled." Alfrei decided, facing the rest of Squad Eight. "Joaquim, Vlad, your concerns are well noted. However, the sooner we can complete our mission, the faster we can return to our own training. I'm sorry but we'll head down to the academy to commission their senior knights to help us."

The two knights huffed in mild frustration but resigned to the idea of bringing fledglings with them on a mission.


____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Gless - Pristine Knight Academy: Headmaster's Chambers



"...and that is the extent of our mission, Headmaster Ulrike." Alfrei concluded his short mission briefing with the new Headmaster of the Academy.

It was a survey mission as he so plainly explained. There's very little combat expectations with a mission of this type. However, times are uncertain these days with the God of Sin being revived - a fact he had to begrudgingly leave out of his briefing. It was hard to know what lies in what corner of each island nowadays. Still, they have been granted the use of Wyvieras which means they are practically going to be zipping between major townships, smaller towns and adjacent villages.

"Alright Vice Captain Alfrei. I will sanction the deployment of our Senior Knight Trainees under your squad's command. However, I implore you to keep them safe and exclude them from operations if it turns into a combat situation. They are still green from head to toe after all." Ulrike sighed.

"We'll get them out immediately at the first signs of any danger." Alfrei promised.

"Very well. I have asked their instructors to assemble our Senior Knight Trainees out in the PKA Field. They are the seven classes for graduation next week. I shall leave them under your care."

Alfrei gave the headmaster the standard salutations after standing up from his seat. "Thank you once again Headmaster."


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Lindela - District 5


"It's never a good sign when you or Lethe are out in the field." Lance quipped at Guilford as he walked towards the man staring at the repair endeavors on their raw material processing facility.

"It's good to see you too, you know." Guilford chuckled at the jab.

"Likewise." Lance stood beside his friend. "If you're here, that means the Council is respectfully putting pressure on us right?"

"In a manner of speaking." Guilford rested his hands on his waist. "However, it would seem their concerns are unwarranted." he added, watching the large number of knights hard at work at restoring their processing facility.

"We are ahead of schedule yes, thanks to one of Lethe's knights taking care of ferrying building materials here and there." he pointed at the large stockpile of building materials at the far side of the facility. "Your knight Fiona too made easy recommendations of suspending reconstruction on minor structures and reallocate manpower here. At this rate, we can get this facility up tomorrow at the earliest, or in two days at the latest."

"Impressive. This is great news." Guilford nodded approvingly.

"I take it that's not the only reason you're here?" Lance inquired.

With a sigh at the reminder of other business, Guilford reached a hand inside his pocket and pulled out a lion crest, custom fashioned in the standard knight commander insignia. Lance looked at the item in his friend's grasp half in horror and half in disbelief. "Don't tell me you pulled strings..." he sighed with a light chuckle.

"No strings were pulled my friend." Guilford assured the man. "After the attack on Lindela, and the tragic loss of Knight Commander Vikar, for the first time in Lindela's history, an entire District has unanimously selected their new Knight Commander." he continued, handing the custom Knight Commander insignia to Lance. "You wouldn't believe the insane amount of support you received from the people and knights of District Five to be the next Knight Commander. The council barely had any strength to object!"

Lance took the insignia in hand. "I don't know about this Gil, I had just returned to being a Captain..." he trailed off.

"Come on... You have declined this several times already in the past. You were ready then, and I say you're ready now. It's also the people looking to you for leadership. Don't deny them that."

"You put too much trust in me my friend." Lance muttered, staring intently at the insignia as he slowly turned it in his hand.

"What's not to trust? You're extremely capable, you've been eligible for this promotion long ago, and you're also a candidate to be the next Seraph. Think of being a Knight Commander as your warm-up." Guilford started. "Also having more responsibility on your shoulders might help tame your recklessness a little bit." the male Seraph ended with a chuckle.

"Look, the sooner you say Yes, the sooner I can conclude one of my official business and visit other districts here. I have a training session I cannot miss with Master Jung and Lethe later this afternoon." Guilford pressured the orange head.

"A-alright already! Geez... fine! I am honored to be the next Knight Commander of District Five."

"There we go. Everything's been taken care of back in Gless. You just need to pin that on your new armor that will be delivered to you within the day. It also comes with your next briefing and introductory documents for becoming a Knight Commander. Make sure to read those and take them to heart."

"You're really making it sound like being a Knight Commander is light work! It's not helping Gil!" Lance complained.

Guilford shrugged his shoulders and looked at Lance. "Hey, compared to me and Lethe.. that IS light work. Congratulations Lance! Make yourself proud!"

"Urrgh.." Lance groaned in defeat. His friend is right. Being Knight Commander is the easier one as opposed to being a Seraph - there's just no arguing that.



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Barrens - Eve's Fortress


A small congregation of Demons and dark Valkyries lazily loitered inside the main hall of the run down fortress. Eve as usual has taken her rightful place beside the God of Sin, playfully twirling her fingers drawing mindless shapes on his arm.

"I am heading to Tethel soon." the God of Sin spoke. "It appears I can no longer expand my power here in this desolate land any more than it would allow me." he continued. "I am not growing stronger by the day anymore. I need to be somewhere I can harness the corruption from the hearts of many."

Eve frowned at the thought. She knew the limits of their desolate land called home. While the taint is thick in the Barrens, it is not suitable for the purposes of recovering darker energies. The energies here were remnants of what they once were when Sin thrived across the land. The energies here now are stale and devoid of stimulation.. stagnant and ever decaying. Her Lord was right that he will not fully recover here no matter how long he stays.

There's just no comparison to the energy that a single corrupted heart can do for their kind.

She wanted to come with, but they had discussed this before and her Lord would very much prefer that she stay here to continue their staging efforts against the Light infested vermin. "When do you plan to leave my Lord?" she asked sweetly.

The day after tomorrow. the God of Sin answered. "I've just recently come to understand the state of things in Tethel. It would appear that there are formidable people there that might not be as welcoming to me as I am now upon my arrival.. they could be a problem."

Eve turned in her relaxed slump to look at her lord. "You mean that little dimwit and her black knight?" she scoffed at the thought. "They are of no import to you my Lord, just placeholders to keep your seat warm until your return."

The God of Sin met her gaze with an amused grin. ""Yes... that little dimwit." he parroted followed by a chuckle. "Placeholders hmm?" he mused mostly to himself. While he may be weakened, he is still the God of Sin. Since his return, he had felt no power present in the world that could rival or even threaten his very existence. It was just his nature to be cautious.. that and he preferred overwhelming victories over pyrrhic ones. His consort was right, there was nothing for him to worry about in Tethel. If he so wanted, he could take the island by force on his own. However, things are different now and there is value to having alliances against a common foe.

"I'll take care of them if need be, but let us see first if they are willing to play my game." he chuckled to himself.

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[[Day 16 of Month -5: Grand Cathedral, Gless]]

Two blades cut through the air in an overhead downward slash, before immediately reversing back up as bodies turned 180 degrees. The swords came to their hips, parallel to the ground, before striking forward and then immediately spinning twice in an X shape. Back towards the shoulder, pause, forward with an extended arm and then elbow immediately sliding diagonally into a high block that swept past the top of her head, right foot stepping back and then planting into the ground as she spun around, arm whipping across her chest.

It was an advanced sword form, typically worth “extra credit” back when they’d been cadets in the Academy due to its complexity. Ingram had been especially fond of its elegance, the reason both her and Guilford were proficient in the routine. She stabbed forward with a step, jumped into a turn, and then stabbed again as her feet regained their stability, body automatically moving through the motions that her blue-haired senior had drilled into her. This combat form–Makashi–had fallen out of favor after the First War due to its weakness against Sinners. However, the two Seraphs didn’t need help subduing Sinners: it was the demons they needed to be worried about, and Makashi was best for combat against other swordsmen.

With a final diagonal slash from high shoulder to low hip, Lethe settled into a crouch–one knee up and one skimming the ground–arm and sword extended diagonally towards the ground in one line. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. She stood back up, sword spinning in a lazy circle over her head before she brought it vertical, hilt level with her face. Another two heartbeats, the final lazy flourish of the blade, and the form was complete. She held the final pose, standing straight with the blade pointed at the ground, until she heard the clap of Master Jung’s hands that signaled the end of this rotation.

“Your forms are adequate,” came the wizened teacher’s assessment, “need some more practice but already better than yesterday. However, the two of you are not in unison.” He frowned at the two Seraphs. “Lethe, you move faster but your attacks are weaker; Guilford, your attacks are stronger but not in sync with your partner. Lethe, slowly do the Form one more time, focusing on putting strength behind your attacks. Then continue at your normal pace; Guilford, you must match her pace.”

With a nod of her head, the white-haired woman stepped back into the first stance before starting the Combat Form once more.



“First light approaches.” A female voice greeted as the two Seraphs flowed through Makashi. After Master Jung’s guidance, the two had improved but still were not fully in unison. Lethe’s speed had become inconsistent as she focused on adding power into her attacks–sometimes normal, sometimes slower–making it harder for the younger Seraph to stay in sync. Two sets of footsteps stopped besides Master Jung, who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Another clap of the hands let the two Seraphs relax from their final stance. “We will continue to work on this later. For now, I have invited Knight Leona and Knight Diana to assist in your training.” A hand gestured at the two newcomers. “You will duel in pairs. Both steel and magic are allowed. The focus will be for Guilford and Lethe to become accustomed to each other’s fighting tendencies once more so focus on sticking together.” Four pairs of eyes met each other, interest, determination, and amusement visible in the various gazes.

“I didn’t know they had re-enlisted.” Lethe commented as she and Guilford walked to one side of the training field. Their opponents had been a famous fighting duo in the First War; they had been part of the vanguard group in the final march and it was only the injuries they’d sustained during that advance that had kept them from the Final Battle. “This should be challenging.” Despite her statement, an excited smile played at the corner of her lips. One on one, she and Guilford would undoubtedly win especially as they were now Seraphs. However, as pairs… It would be a good spar.

Opposite of them, Diana swung her sword experimentally before letting it rest by her side, seemingly unconcerned by the upcoming fight. In contrast, the auburn-haired Leona lifted her shield in front of her, already settling into a defensive stance. Orange colored lips lifted in a smirk: “Come, try to leave a dent!”



[[Day 17 of Month -5: District 15 Quarantine Wards, Lindela ]]

Leon hurried into the second quarantine ward of District Fifteen, snapping the facemask into place around his ears. Up three flights of stairs he rushed, concern pounding in his veins. He and his neighbor had passed each other on the stairs of their boarding house just now, him leaving for work and his neighbor just returning from an overnight patrol. His neighbor had mentioned how there had been an incident last night: two Knights in strong holy magic had been seen dashing towards District Fifteen. A sudden hunch of unease had turned his feet in this direction, both to investigate and to make sure Valiar was doing alright.

Coming to a halt at the landing, barely missing an overfilling basket of sheets, he spotted a dozing Seraphim on a bench. Why was she here? His concern grew: could those two Knights have included his squadmate? Lips wrenching into a frown, the blond still decided to look around before waking her up. She must have been really tired if the noise of him running up the stairs hadn’t woken her. To the right, he found an open door and behind it, a snoozing Valiar, head flat against the desk. He couldn’t help but wince at the sight, the cleric would have a sore neck when he woke up… The dark bags under his squadmate’s eyes also worried him.

“Leon? What brings you here?” The familiar voice from behind saved him from deciding which squadmate to wake up. Turning around, Leon saw a curious Cricket walking up the stairs, basket of linens on one hip and a large, tasty-smelling brown bag in his free hand.

“I heard something happened last night and I was worried about Valiar…”

A wince crossed the purple-haired man’s face. “First floor has a small break room; go down and bring up a pot of coffee and maybe…” Cricket thought for a second, mentally tallying how many were needed, “seven cups or so. Then come inside the office so we don’t disturb Seraphim.”

Eyes widening at the unexpectedly high number, the sensor nodded his head and hurried back down the stairs. By the time he returned, Valiar was scrubbing at his face in an attempt to wake up. Pastries were spread out on the desk and Cricket had already started eating one. Grabby hands motioned towards the fragrant liquid on his tray and Leon quickly poured a cup for his black-haired squadmate, receiving a grateful sigh in return.

“What’s going on?” Leon questioned as he took a seat; he didn’t reach for drink or food, having broken his fast before leaving home. Cricket nodded towards the basket of linens he’d brought up, clearly telling the other to fold them if he wasn’t eating, before replying, “Roland fell into a coma last night. Adair and Seraphim rushed him over but…” The crossdresser shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Valiar contributed with a heavy sigh into his coffee, “Roland is sweating enough that it’s probably the Sweating Sickness but no one else has fallen into a coma. Grisia also said this is the first time he’s seen Roland sweating this much. They all just thought it was a lingering cold since he’s been coughing for a few weeks now.” The man cradled his head in his hands, clearly a bit overwhelmed, “I sent a Hi-Pri to the Cathedral last night so we can only wait to see.” Gloom descended on the office, each lost in their own thoughts. Their silence was broken when the door opened to reveal an impassive Adair.

“Good morning Cricket, Valiar, Leon.” The amber-haired Knight quirked an eyebrow at the sight of Squad Ten’s newest member but otherwise showed no other emotion. “Any news?” He nodded in acknowledgement at Valiar’s shake of the head before helping himself to a bread roll and a cup of coffee. “Eat as well, Valiar. What brings you here, Leon?”

“Ah… I heard…”

“Ah.” Adair lapsed into a moment of silence before continuing, “You’re done with your project with Romauld?” At the blond’s nod, he continued, “District Five’s processing plant could use more hands, as could this ward, I assume?”

Valiar made a so-so gesture at the question, “The parents are helping out so we have enough raw labor, but I’d be grateful to have another Knight to help manage them. Also, having someone else who can heal, even a bit, would help.”

Squad Ten’s vice captain hummed in acknowledgement, clearly thinking through options as he finished his pastry. Leon quietly folded the linens–bedsheets and towels, it looked like–to keep his hands busy. “Leon, work here with Valiar for now then. Cricket, back to courier duty. Bring me an update on the processing plant and how Deimos is managing with the supplies.”

The crossdresser hesitated, “Do you.. I can take over managing the reconstruction today if you want.” He shifted uncomfortably, “If Leon’s here, that means Stuffy is probably free too. We can manage… probably.”

Amber eyes softened in thanks but the reply was resolute, “Staying here won’t accomplish much. Grisia and Lesus are watching over him. We still need to finish at least getting houses up so people can get out of the tents.” Gulping down the rest of his coffee, Adair loaded a stack of the bread and two mugs onto the tray and lifted it. “I’ll get this to my brothers then head out. When Seraphim’s woken up, feed her and send her back to me.” Catching the cleric’s eye, his apathy finally cracked as he commanded, “Keep me updated.”

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