The Magecraft Chronicles III Story Thread

[Mizagium]

Valendis and Felicia dusted themselves off as their makeshift group reassembled itself on the other side of the shifting gravity room. Slyphie released her air stream and fluttered over to her current master, wheezing.

"Thank you, Sylphie," Valendis let her rest in his hands for a moment before uttering the incantation of releasing. She disappeared in a puff of air.

"Very good," boomed the voice from nowhere. "That was clever. Almost cheating. Almost. Too bad there's like...a room and a half left!"

Felicia screwed up her face. "A room and a half?"

"Shut up! My master died before finishing this tomb so we had to make do."

"Whatever."

They pushed on through another unremarkable tunnel before arriving in a large, otherwise featureless room. Remembering the previous room, Adden gingerly put one foot forward. When nothing happened, he crept inside. Still nothing happened.

"Huh. That was anticlimactic." Except his voice was not his own. It came in a series of harsh squawks. Without even looking down, he felt his hands and the feathers that now covered them.

Yep.

He and the Arkarris had switched bodies.

Or maybe the Arkarris was someone else now.

Valendis sighed.

"Really?"

[Myrdraxxis]

Veraask stared at...himself. "Curious." he said, then paused. His voice was definitely human...more specifically, Valendis' voice. "Very curious." the voice lacked the definite throaty squawk that normally accompanied his speech. 'Valendis' looked around the room. It was the form of the human to be certain, but lacked a certain human quality. His head jerked around a bit too quickly to be natural, eyes darting to take in everything, and even the slight hunch of his shoulders. "Hmm...if I had to guess, I'd say we've somehow switched bodies." Veraask stated confidently.

"But I do wonder what purpose this serves, exactly."

[Monika]

"I really, really don't like where this is going..." Lenore muttered. "Maybe if I don't step into the room, I won't be-

"ADVENTURE TIME!" Kazan charged into the new room, knocking Lenore in with him in his excitement.

"Darn it, Kazan, why do you-" Lenore stopped. Her voice was much deeper than it had been ten seconds ago. She looked down at her attire and realized instantly. "White hair. Black clothes. I feel whimsical yet...slightly ominous. I must be in Sorin's body," she huffed. "Ugh, Shadow Magic is my diametric opposite! How am I supposed to function in this room?"

"Woooooooooo! I'm Gandalf the Black!" Kazan went frolicking around in Izaak's body, finding it significantly easier to cast lightning based spells.

[Damien]

After walking into the newest room, Izaak suddenly felt...taller? He looked off to one side of the room and saw Sorin, then to the other and saw...HIMSELF?!?

"WHAT THE--?" He stopped short, frightened by the strange new tone in his voice. Thanks to Kazan's reckless excitement, he had been forced out of his own body and into that of Kazan. Izaak turned to Lenore. "Sorin, is that you?"

"Indeed, it is," he responded. "I feel much too 'good'. We must find a way out of this room immediately!" He raised his hand, palm outward, towards the wall opposite the entrance, preparing to blast away any door that may be there. "Ronaaz do vulon!" The air in front of his hand began to tingle with magic. At the height of that sensation came a satisfying puff of shadow...and nothing more.

"Well," he said, "this is going to be quite a challenge..."

[Mizagium]

The voice that guided laughed. Hard. It echoed throughout the chambers and filled them all with shame. "I knew that would be a good idea. Ah...yeah, no, I'm just messing with you guys. Here." There was a faint poof sounds and they found themselves in their own bodies.

"Look, thruthfully, we never got to finish all the traps before he kicked the bucket, so...just...exit the room to your right and follow the hallway all the way down. It's a long corridor, but at the end, you'll find the tomb."

Felicia frowned. "That seems too easy. It must be another trap."

But Valendis shook his head. "No, I don't think so. If it was going to be a trap, he'd tell us. Or at least, not fake-warn us. What would be the point? Either way, we're going to get caught up in traps, warning or no warning." He shrugged. "I say we keep going. I'd rather be done with this ittle sidetrip as son as possible."

He and his familiars led the way.

[Razgat]

"Wait! You can't just leave me here!" Deyanira tried to reach after Nethaniel, but the locks didn't let her go far. "You obviously aren't going to get anything out of me! Can't you just let me go? Please?"

She did her best to put on her saddest sad face.

[Myrdraxxis]

Nathaniel stopped and sighed, looking back at the captured girl. "You're a blood mage. Regardless of your usefulness, you are a danger to yourself and others." He said tonelessly. "Be thankful you have not been executed." Which he did find strangely relieving.

He stared at the girl for a moment...trying to ignore the 'sad puppy dog eyes' she was shooting at him. An idea occurred him, and he would have rejected it outright if not for the special nature of his upcoming assignment.

"There is something I can do." He said finally. "If you're willing to put up with me for a little while longer, that is."

[Razgat]

Deyanira tugged at her chains. "If it means I get Steve back, then okay. I do miss Steve..."

She tried to cross her arms, but just sort of ended up looking tangled and pathetic because she couldn't pull her arms very far.

[Mizagium]

The intrepid company of Valendis and others reached the end of the annoying dungeon at last, only to find a large stone vault, empty save for an equally stone coffin in the center.

“I…think we won,” Valendis muttered to no one in particular.

“Yes,” came the voice from before, the one that alternately guided and taunted them. “You’ve completed the challenges set before you. Now I—“

“They weren’t much of challenges,” Valendis interrupted. “It more of a series of hindrances than anything.”

A figure materialized before them, clad in armor and clutching a decorated spear. He looked human, but something about him seemed…off. “Are you going to let me finish or what?” he deadpanned.

“Sorry.”

“Ahem. As I was saying: You have completed my—you know what, it’s just not the same. Way to go, man, you ruined it.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“I had this whole thing planned out and everything…do you know how long I’ve been down here, waiting for someone to get this far? Hell, nobody has even found the book until you bozos. So no. Thanks for ruining the one chance I’ll get with this.”

Valendis scratched at his neck. “We can go back out and come in, if you want. I can say the—“

“No no no. No. It’s—it’s cool. Whatever.” He huffed. “Look, this is the tomb of Foelbraak Benzeiah, but I guess you knew that already—since you’re here and all.” The soldier spirit rolled his eyes and leaned against the tomb. “My name is of little consequence (it’s Havgaard, if you must know) and I am a Guardian Spirit in service to the master summoner. For details on that, attend my lecture at 3. My last act as a summoned spirit is to deliver this piece of information: They are returning. The ones who came before are going to come back.” He glared at Valendis. “They’re in your blood, just as Foelbraak is. You, my man, are of a very unique family. Use that. Learn more about your family. It will help in the coming months.”

He stretched. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Valendis frowned. “That’s not what I came here for. I was looking for—“

“’Fraid this tale don’t much care about what you want, Valendis.” He made a point to pronounce his name slowly. “Journeys are all about what you need. And trust me, you need this.” Havgaard breathed in deeply and smiled. “Ah, I feel it now. The release. I’ve been stuck here for too long. So long folks, thanks for playing my game.”

His form vanished. Then the room vanished around them. With a woosh of air, they were dropped back into the Great Library of Kyros.

Valendis picked himself off and stormed away. “What the hell was he talking about? Those who came before…”

-----

[At least two more parts coming]

[Myrdraxxis]

Nathaniel nodded, accepting her answer. he stepped over to the door and opened it, leaning out into the hallway. As he expected, Faust was there, at attention and waiting for him to finish up. Such a reliable retainer, that guy.

"Sir?" Faust asked, seeing his boss.

"You have the key to this girl's chains, Faust?" Nathaniel asked. The other man tilted his head curiously.

"Yes sir, I was was told to hand them over to you if you requested-"

"Good, come in. I need a witness." Nathaniel cut him off and waved the man in. Faust didn't question it, simply followed Nathaniel back into the cell.

Nathaniel faced Deyanira, putting on a solemn face. "Right then. Do you, Damien Faust, retainer of his Majesty's Imperial Mage Hunters, agree to bear witness to this event?" THe Mage Hunter intoned.

Faust nodded, straightening to attention, realization of what was about to occur sinking in. "I bear witness, in his Majesty's name." the sergeant spoke.

"Deyanira of Nostia. I, Nathaniel Sorien of The Imperial Mage Hunters of Vaer, do recognize and hereby induct you into service in my personal retinue until such time as I release you from duty, or death finds you." Nathaniel said, mind racing as he spoke the words.

There were many who would have a field day if word every spread that he had brought a blood mage into his fold. Nathaniel had no small number of enemies within the nobility of Vaer. And for once, Nathaniel couldn't blame them for wanting his head for this. It was practically heretical (borrowing the Ternyian term). But Mage Hunters were special operatives who answered only to the Emperor and were allowed a great more flexibility than most.

"You work for me now." Nathaniel added, perhaps unnecessarily. Fuast withdrew the key to the girl's chains from his pocket, anticipating his lord's actions as Nathaniel held out a hand for the key. "Understand, this is not solely for your benefit." as he said this, Nathaniel reached down and unlocked the chains, freeing the blood mage. "Our next mission will be taking us deep into Arcia. having a mage with us will greatly increase out chances of success."

Nathaniel straightened up and turned, stepping out of the room, Fasut at his side. He motioned for Deyanira to follow. "We have much planning to do; our team leaves for Kyros in the morning."

~][~

Veraask shifted uneasily as Valendis asked his question. The arkarris had hid his surprise when the spirit revealed his knowledge of the outsiders to the group. Veraask hadn't yet decided if he truly wanted to involve these people in his problem...but he was short on time and now they had begun to hear the truth.

"Friends," he said, voice low. "Before we go further, I must speak. About those who came before. Those who do not belong." he took a deep breath, ruffling himself up for a rather...winded explanation. "Tell me..." he glanced around at the group. "What do you know of Celestials?"

[Razgat]

Deyanira happily hopped off of the bed and stretched. "Goodness, I feel sore after being stuffed in there for so long!" She skipped over to Nathaniel, swaying her arms back and forth as she went. "Heeeeeeeey! Don't forget! You have to get me Steve back first! I'll only go if I get Steve back...and since we're here, I could use a nice stick too so I can make a staff. I haven't had time to find one with all the snow and all. Do you like snow? I like snow, but I see a loooot of it. Not good for blood, nope, it just makes it a lot harder to move it, you know? And I can't even really harvest anything from the people that die of hypothermia. Such a waste. Ooooh, maybe I could find a skin, too, you know, for blood and all, and..."

And just like that, she was back to her giddy cheery self. It was what most people found to be the most terrifying. That, and she would never shut up.

[Mizagium]

“I thought you said you know what you were doing!” the young woman screamed as she dragged her male companion out of the ditch. Dirt, sweat, and not a small amount of blood coated her face. A day and a half in the dungeon had torn her nice, neat clothes, and ruined her perfect hair. Her friend fared little better, although he was currently unconscious, so that was a definite negative.

“I told him not to go that way,” Marion Criss, BeastHellan adventurer extraordinaire replied with thinning patience. “You two hired me to be your guide, so you should listen when I say something!”

The girl ignored her and continued to panic over her boyfriend.

“He’s still breathing,” Marion dismissed. “Look, let’s rest here and recover while I figure a way out of this. Her hair was getting ratty, which created difficulty when running her claws through it, a nervous habit. She needed a bath. This was the third excursion in a week where her charges failed to heed her advice. It a dangerous pattern she had been hoping to break. “Let his rest—but make sure he keeps breathing.”

She walked off to collect her thoughts. What had she encountered in this ruin so far? Various spike traps and pitfalls. A large boulder. Arrow traps. More than a few zombies. And a staircase that…wait. She sniffed the air. Something seemed familiar. Mentally, she retraced her steps to this point, but let her mind wander forward.

“Oh my—I know this place!”

“What?”

“This ruin. I’ve been here before—gotten to the treasure room, in fact.”

The look the girl gave her was one of exasperated disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“No—see, we go up this path and hang a right; the other two paths are dead ends (and I mean dead ends) until we reach the old throne room. There used to be a shield there, but I hawked that years ago. I think It’s in Kyros right now…”

The girl looked from her to her boyfriend and back. “So…what now?”

“Now…we get out of here. There’s a secret exit not too far from here. Well, it’s an air shaft, but whatevs.”

-

Somewhere outside the ruin, deep in Elborn, the sky tore itself apart. For a brief instant, the veil of reality was ripped asunder and mortal eyes were given a glimpse of the timestream—the roiling temporal river that carried the universe along on its unforgiving currents. Of course, few mortals lived in the Elborn jungles, so only a lone drake noticed the phenomena before turning his attention back to more pressing matters.

When the rift closed, a single spark of light arced across the sky and crashed to the jungle floor. The resulting shockwaves caused a section of the ruin to collapse, which was lucky for Marion and her companions because it happened to the be the very one they needed to escape. It also succeeded in waking the man, so they were all able to escape together. Marion motioned for the two to wait aside while she investigated, to which they were more than happy to oblige.

The shooting star created a smoking crater in the jungle floor, only a few feet deep. In it lay a man, still alive miraculously, who stirred to waking when Marion slid down to greet him.

“Hey, what happened?”

“Damn.” The man (he was Xiolinese, she could see now) got up slowly and clutched at his head. “I hate magic, you know? I mean, I like it, but damn do I hate it sometimes!”

“I know what you mean…” Marion ventured closer. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Kugo. Kugo Agetev.” He looked at her curiously. “And you?”

“Marion Criss.”

“Never seen a…woman like you before…where am I?”

“Elborn.”

“The jungle?” He whistled. “Dayum. That threw me across the world! Ha!” He jumped up. Somehow he was unharmed. Odd tattoos on his skin radiated a faint light that she suspected was magic.

“Come with us,” she offered. “We’re heading back to the nearest town now and you can find your way from there.”

“Aye, that sounds good. Can’t fly right now—all my magic’s been used up surviving that crash.” He grinned to show he wasn’t kidding.

“Oye, you two,” she called to her paying customers (she hadn’t bothered to remember their names) mind giving us a hand here?” But they didn’t respond. She called again, swore, and started to scramble up the crater wall. “Useless amateurs. I really need to find a real job. Course that didn’t exactly work out for mom…plus jobs are too boring.”

Kugo manged to clear the crater in a single bound. Apparently he could still jump incredibly high.

“Mind giving me a hand here?” she grumbled.

“Uh...you might wanna stay down there…”

But she was already up. And face to face with a dragon.

“Told you.”

Now she knew why they hadn’t answered her calls: They were too busy wetting themselves to do so. To their credit, they hadn’t fled yet—merely stood shaking behind a rock. “Don’t move,” Marion told Kugo. “Dragon’s vision is based on movement; if we don’t move, it can’t see us.”

“That’s preposterous.”

A long moment passed before Marion realized it hadn’t been Kugo that responded.

It had been the dragon.

“Did…you just talk?”

“I should hope so.” Oh yes. The dragon was talking. “Professor Penrose T. Fezziwigg, at your service.”

[Mizagium]

Red and Inanis had spent the last day or so asking around (rather conspicuously) for information regarding any pirate treasure. As he suspected, no one knew anything or took them seriously. Over dinner, they talked about their finding.

“Nada.”

“Nothing.”

She sighed and picked at her food. “This is so not how I wanted this go.”

“Oh?” He snorted. “And how did you envision this quest for pirate treasure going?”

She thought about it while he shoveled food in. “Dunno. But not this.”

“Well…look. You should probably go home. You’re way too young to be out here alone.”

“But I’m not alone: I have you.”

“I have my own problems, Red. I need to figure out who I am and why they tampered with my head.”

“Stick with me and maybe you’ll find out something.” She shrugged. “You don’t exactly have much to go on.”

Inanis let his utensils clatter onto his plate. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. And I wouldn’t feel good leaving you like this.”

Red smiled.

That night, her guide visited her in her dreams, a haunting genderless voice accompanied by radiant light.

-You are getting closer-

“It doesn’t feel like it,” she pouted.

-Trust me, my dear. I will not lead you astray-

“Ok…Are you sure I can trust him?”

-You called him. He will protect you, although he will not know why. Trust in my words, young Vidalia, I will take you to where you need to be-

“I trust you, Tiamat.”

[Monika]

"I'm not the only one who's more than a little disappointed that we came all this way for some cryptic warning, am I?" Lenore huffed, although her initial anger was quickly beset by the warm, fuzzy feeling that accompanied being returned to her own body.

"Nah, it's probably just you," Kazan replied, having had no interest either way, what with not being a summoner. "I got to go on an epic adventure, be in a new body and learned something about magnetism, thanks to you!" Kazan beamed at Lenore, withdrawing a pocketful of iron sand he had nabbed during the "Gravity Room" trap portion of the journey. Picking up a conveniently placed, almost empty bottle of water, he poured the last few drops of it on the iron sand, changing the consistency to that of clay. Once he had done that, he was able to mold the sand into a slightly hard, dark gray ball. "Now, watch this! Mini Thunder Flash!" Clasping the iron ball tightly between both hands, he channeled a few amps of electricity around it, evidenced by the hundreds of sparks flying from it. Slowly, anything even partially magnetic started flying toward Kazan: coins, small pieces of metal, Felicia's glasses... Once Kazan was done with his display, he dispelled the electricity and all of the objects came falling to the ground. "I could totally be a magnetic themed superhero or something!" he laughed.

Lenore, genuinely impressed that Kazan had actually learned and applied something he had learned, set aside what was left of her anger. Sighing, she finally decided to return to the topic at hand. "Well, I'm glad the journey was worthwhile for one of us...Now, what is all this about Celestials?"

[Damien]

"Oh!" said Izaak. "I remember reading something about them during my studies. They're the beings that are supposedly responsible for creating our world, right? They sang it into existence I believe. I'm not sure how much truth there is to it, but that's what I know."

"Oh, good!" chuckled Sorin. "It seems you ARE good for something! So, Veraask, was it? Given that we now have just above minimal knowledge of Celestials, would you care to "enlighten" us? Be the light to drive away the shadow as it were?" He kept chuckling under his breath at his own terrible puns.

"Murum vis," whispered Izaak. A small purple barrier wrapped around Sorin's head, closing his mouth and keeping it shut. "Now then...no more bad puns."

Sorin moved his hand downwards towards the ground, as if grabbing something. He pulled shadow up to the barrier and wrapped it with the shadow. The barrier and the shadow melted away. "Being a little forceful there, aren't you?" he said smirking.

Izaak grumbled, "Gods dammit."

[Sariel of Tevet]

After running through the woods on the heels of Liulfr for miles, Roluo and his companion came upon a cabin deep in the woods outside of the city walls (hmmm, I’ve seen this movie before). He approached the door and stood on the weathered “home sweet home” matt. Everything, from the décor to the bird house, and even the hammock out front seemed so inviting and normal.

What if the guards just heard a rumor? Honestly a deranged and gallivanting chronomancer couldn’t live in a place like this. I’m half expecting children to come running around the corner to greet me and then run away screaming when they see Liulfr. You know, like an actual normal family would. There is no way this guy is crazy, or a mage. What am I doing here…

Before he had a chance to turn around and leave, Liulfr was already clawing and barking at the door. Roluo clasped his hands over his face and groaned. “You know, for an undead mutt, you still seem to act like a mutt than anything. There goes my chances at turning back.” He began knocking at the door, “Hello! Is there anyone home? Err…Father Time? Are you home?”

A minute passed and defeated, he plopped down on the ground and leaned his back to the door. Liulfr started to lick his face (which still creeped him out just a bit) reassuringly so Roluo patted him on the head and began to scratch the feral dog’s ear, until it fell off and landed in his lap. “Uh…oops. Well enough of that. Guess you’ll just have a hard time hearing me until the next time I summon you. Sorry little guy.Wait…that’s it!!!”
He jumped up and placed his hand on the door handle, “This guy is supposed to be almost a hundred years old. Maybe he just can’t hear me. I’ll just have to go in and say hello.”

He slowly swung open the door and peered inside. Through the crack of the door he could see mountains of sand spread across the nearest room, and it seemed to be the only thing in that room. As he placed a foot inside the cabin he could see the kitchen now and the dozens of potted plants scattered about and the endless amounts of ancient scribbling along the walls, floor, and ceiling of the house. Wow, maybe this guy IS crazy.
“Umm…excuse me…Mr err…Father Ti..”

Roluo froze. Not out of fear or shock, but because the time around him had stopped, even Liulfr was at a standstill. He couldn’t move his eyes to look around. His entire body just paused in the moment. There seemed to be a bubble surrounding him, some sort of semi-permeable membrane of space-time. Father Time came rising out of the mountains of sand in the closest room and started to laugh.

“You know it never does get old freezing people. Don’t worry, just because you can’t breathe right now doesn’t mean you will die. Basically your entire body is paused and everything is locked just the way you left it. Every sight, chemical reaction, and every sound. Oh…wait. I forgot. That means you can’t see me standing in front of you right now, or hear you. Yes well I guess I should fix that.”

He adjusted the spell slightly and freed only Roluo’s head from the spell, allowing him to hear and see on the current plane of time. “Now young man, what is so important that you couldn’t wait until after my little sand experiment to talk? You’re lucky I wasn’t getting anywhere anyone. I think all that “sands of time” talk is a whole lot of rubbish. I’ve been at this for weeks and all I’ve managed to do is get enough sand in my beard that I swear I’ll wake up one morning and there will be pearls. So why so impatient? I mean, I AM a chronomancer afterall. I have all the time in the world to talk.”

Roluo appreciated the bad pun, and saw it as a chance to get on the seasoned mage’s good side. “If I had known, I could have just come back at a different time.”

“Nice try son, but I have been at this a lot longer than I care to share. It almost pained me to watch you make a pun that bad. Well…ok they can’t all be good. You know what, fine.” Father Time smashed his cane onto the ground and freed Roluo and Liulfr, “What are you here for boy? Let’s just talk. You aren’t of them damn mage hunters from the city obviously, I can tell that from your little companion there. Time wasn’t very kind to him was it?” He smirked behind his giant white beard at that one.

Roluo was almost speechless. Years, for so many years he had been looking for a way to wipe his memory. He had wanted to badly to start over with a clean slate. Now that opportunity was here, he just couldn’t put his feelings into words anymore. The chronomancer recognized that look. He had seen it many times before. He could have guessed that the necromancer had come to him to get his memory wiped, they always had that look. “Go ahead and take a seat, I know that look boy. You are far too young to have that look. Men go to war and come back with that look. Widows burry their husbands with that look, did you know that? Escaped slaves do as well. It’s the look of someone who wants to forget so badly, that they are scared after all this time that it won’t even work. Well I’ll tell you, it works. I can make you forget anything, no matter the time span, but you, you are too young for that look. What could you possibly have gone through?”

Roluo followed the time mage into kitchen and took a seat. Even the chairs had symbols carved into them and that same mysteriously language. Well he is a time mage. Maybe it’s…sand…skrit. He smiled silently to himself and shifted around awkwardly.

“Well you see…I…my past. I need to forget some of the things that I have done. I don’t think you would understand. It’s all my fault. Just the faces…of all the people I used to know. My village, you don’t understand what my pride did. I should have known my limits and then no one would have gotten hurt. I knew I should have stayed away from that spell, and now everyone is gone. Gone!!” Roluo rose sharply and sent his chair sliding across the floor and into the wall. He slammed his hands onto the table and sent sand flying everywhere, “MAKE IT DISAPPEAR. I DON’T WANT THESE MEMORIES ANYMORE.”

There was a loud crash from a potted plant smashing into the ground. A young girl, about fifteen, had walked into the room carrying one of Father Time’s altered daisies, and had suddenly dropped the pot as all color drained from her face and her knees began to shake.

“Roluo…?”

[Myrdraxxis]

By the time Nathaniel had made it out of the building he had decided that his decision would probably be the death of him. Not by being executed as a heretic for his radical choice of inviting a blood mage of all things into his service, and not even by being assassinated by a rival Hunter or a nobleman for any of his (sometimes) perceived slights to the upper echelon of Vaerian society. No, Nathaniel was fairly confident that by the end of this mission he would either go insane or throw himself off of his airship if it meant being in close quarters with Deyanira for an extended period of time.

Nathaniel glanced over at Faust, who looked utterly composed and his usual stoic self...aside from a slight twitch that had developed in his left eye. The sergeant gave Nathaniel a weary look and then marched on, filtering out Deyanira's rather constant stream of chatter.

There were times that Nathaniel envied his sergeant's ability to remain so composed in the face of overwhelming insanity.

"Deyanira." Nathaniel said suddenly, then coughed as his voice came out raw and strained. "Stay close, we have to cross the compound to the airship docks if we're going to retrieve your...er...Steve."

Faust muttered something under his breath, but Nathaniel ignored it. He waved the two on and led them across the courtyard.

Despite appearances, Helgras was not the military center of the Vaer Empire. It had been decided long ago that should the capital fall, then it would be better to not cripple the nation's military strength in the process. That said, the city still hosted an impressive military compound based near the southern edge of the city, facing (rather symbolically) towards the direction of the Cerberus Desert. The compound was a hive of activity between the army’s training facility and barracks and the navy airship yards. There were even a few Mage Hunters who made their homes in the Helgras military base. Despite being allowed more luxurious quarters in the city proper, many found it more convenient to be closer to their mobilization zone center. Well, the good Mage Hunters did at any rate. Many more were only too happy to embrace a more comfortable existence in the upper city, like the good nobles they pretended to be.

Brushing aside his low opinion if his fellow Hunters, Nathaniel led his retainers through the throng of military troops and works that scurried across the base, going about their business. Somehow Faust managed to keep Deyanira close by and not wander off into the crowd; something for which Nathaniel was extremely grateful. He wasn’t quite sure how his heart would be able to take it if there was a blood mage wandering around lost in the heart of Helgras’ military force.

“Your…belongings should still be in the Vandred’s supply locker in the hangars.” As he said that, Nathaniel led the two to the Airship docks.

Despite common knowledge, the city of Helgras had not been built over the ruins of the old Hyddick Confederacy’s capital city. It had been for the sake of making a statement, if nothing else, that Helgras be built from nothing, symbolizing Vaer as a new start, free of the old ways and the trappings of the previous civilization. It had been a radical move, but then again so was founding a nation of magically disinclined people in a world based around magic.

Helgras was built atop a large plateau, the city rising above the rest of the land around it. That too, was probably for symbolism’s sake, but Nathaniel liked to believe there was a sense of defensibility in the city’s planning as well.

The airship docks hung off of the edge of the Helgras plateau, docks and catwalks stretching off into empty space as airships hovered in their berths. Each ship was designated a small warehouse that lined the docks for its cargo and crew. While the Vandred had been heavily damaged (and would not be ready for their next mission), their storage house was still in use. Nathaniel nodded to a pair of crewmen that passed as the trio entered the warehouse.

The inside was mostly abandoned, save for a few workers going through their lockers. Nathaniel spied a beam of light slithering out from under the door to Captain Corvinus’ office. “Take her to her things, Faust.” Nathnaiel order, heading towards the office. “I won’t be but a moment.” Faust nodded and led Deyanira to the footlocker that had been designated for her belongings.

Nathaniel rapped on the office door twice and stepped inside when he heard a grunt of acknowledgment from within.

Captain Corvinus looked up from a report and sat up in his chair as Nathaniel stepped inside. The room was lit by a small lamp, and there were about four mugs of coffee scattered around the stack of papers on the captain’s desk. Nathaniel doubted that the man had slept more than a moment since their return. “Mi’lord Sorien.” Corvinus’ gravelly voice sounded even drier than before, giving away his weariness. “I wasn’t expecting you until the morning.”

So the captain had been briefed to their assignment. Good, that saved a bit of time. “Sorry to bother you captain. I was simply stopping by to retrieve some things before we set off tomorrow. Er…how are you doing captain?” the Mage Hunter asked.

Corvinus chuckled. “Twenty years ago I never would have imagined that it would be the paperwork that killed me.” He motioned to the impressive stack of reports. “The damages to the ship are pretty bad, but all things considered it could have been a lot worse. That said, we’ll be needing a new ship for our next venture.” The captain explained. “I’ve taken the liberty of picking out a replacement.”

A smile began to form on Nathaniel’s face as he sat down in the chair opposite of Corvinus and skimmed the form that he was handed. Corvinus and his crew had been working with Nathaniel for years now, and there wasn’t even a question that it would be Corvinus who flew Nathaniel’s team to their mission, even though simply finding a different ship and crew would be more convenient. Corvinus was practically a member of Nathaniel’s retinue, though the mage hunter had never officially made it so. The old airship captain enjoyed his freedom, even within the rigid Vaerian navy, and Nathaniel respected the man enough to keep it that way.

“Everything looks good.” Nathaniel said, setting down the report. “My team will assemble here first thing in the morning then.” Nathaniel stood to leave. He paused at the door. “You should get some sleep, Dariel.”

The captain scoffed. “I suppose so. I doubt these reports will get finished before the departure anyhow.” The captain stood as well and stretched painfully. “I’ve got a cot set up in the other room; never go back home much these days.” The captain nodded towards the small offside room joined to the office. “I’ve got an extra if you’d like to bunk here for the night.”

Nathaniel considered the offer. Most of his belongings were actually still here in the warehouse from their last mission. And Nathaniel had no desire to return to the upper city just yet. “I might do just that.”

~][~

Veraask nodded slowly in answer to Izaak and Lenore. He was still a little wary of these particular people and their usefulness…but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

“The Celestials are indeed the creators of Mundus Magica, despite what many Mage worshipers will tell you.” The arkarris began. “They were strong. Unbelievably so. Sang their cities into existence they did. Mundus Magica was their paradise. But the Celestials, they were not good people, no.” Veraask shook his head quite emphatically. “My people were brought low by the Celestials for many an eon, forced into servitude until we withdrew into the shadows. The Celestials were eventually consumed by their own power, warring with one another until the arrival of your ‘Mage of the Beginning’ who finally drove the Celestials from this world.”

Veraask shuddered. “The stories my people have of that man. I am not so sure if he was a god like many claim, but powerful enough to kill armies of the great Celestials he was. Close to godhood as anyone can come, I am thinking.”

Veraask was distantly aware that there were suddenly a group of humans gathered off to the edge of the library’s great clearing where the party now stood; watching. He ignored it for now. “The Mage placed powerful wards across the world that kept the Celestials from returning to this world. These wards, he entrusted to my people, and my people in turn entrusted this task to my masters and I.”

Veraask paused. Well, his master had finally died nearly a decade ago. So now it was just him. “For ages we have kept Mundus Magica safe from Celestials returning. And they have tried, ooooh yes. Many times. Most recent was nearly three hundred years ago when the dark Seekers tried to let them in.

“But now..” the birdman sighed heavily. “Now they have somehow returned I know not how. But I found the wards displaced, not long ago. The Celestials have found a way back into our world, and they are slithering through the breach to Mundus Magica.”

Veraask gazed at each of the assembled humans evenly. “The task of righting this wrong, of forcing back our old enemy. I would ask for your aid in doing it.”

[Damien]

Sorin and Izaak sat and listened as Veraask told his story. Sorin stood there, stoically listening, no emotion visible on his face. Izaak maintained a visage of shock the entire time...or maybe it was fear.

When Veraask finished speaking, the room was overtaken with a heavy silence. A few moments later, Sorin spoke up. "Well, I may love the shadows, but I will not stand idly by while those of the Celestials loom over us. You have my aid."

Izaak spoke next. "I will do anything in my power to aid you, Veraask...even if that means I have to put up with Sorin's insufferable puns."

Sorin chuckled, "While I do love a good pun, this is definitely not the time for joking. However, someone has to get rid of the gloom with some light-hearted humor, hehehe."

"Gods grant me patience," groaned Izaak, "because if you grant me strength, I'll probably strangle him." Izaak turned and spoke to the rest of the group. "I'm going back upstairs to finish copying those spells. I was in the middle of transcribing a very powerful spell before we were transported to that tomb."

Sorin piped up. "Let me help you get--"

"No!" yelled Izaak. He turned a brilliant shade of red from the embarrassment of yelling in the library. "No, thank you. I'll walk. I'm still not used to teleporting. It makes my stomach turn..." He began walking up the stairs.

[Monika]

"Heh heh! Another epic journey to go on? Count me in!" Without so much as a second thought, Kazan grabbed both his swords and got into a battle position. "When do we start!?"

"Hmph...Although I've no personal vendetta against these Celestials," Lenore glared at Veraask, considering him for a moment, "and I'm not particularly inclined to go up against beings who literally sang cities into existence...Kazan is my team leader, so I'll tag along for his sake. I guess..." With a last huff of minor annoyance, Lenore sheathed her staff, crossed her arms and awaited further instructions.

[Mizagium]

Felicia bit at her nails. "I wish I could, but there's no one here to watch the library unless the Head Librarian suddenly shows up..."

Valendis didn't answer right away. He stepped back and paced a few times.

"What's wrong?" Jorsin asked from within the mage's pocket.

"He's thinking about home," Hesseppatt chirped.

Raefe's hair bristled. "I don't like what that spirit said about our family. We should go back."

Valedendis agreed. "Veraask, I...I want to help you. But what that spirit said...I don't like how he dragged my family into this. I have to go back to them. I need to. Something feels wrong."

-

The cave was easy to pass up, to miss entirely. In fact, Red was sure she had, in fact, skipped on by it a few times (literally). The tide was low, but would start coming in within the next hour. Inanis was more cautious about stepping over the slippery rocks, but neither of them lost their footing.

Due to the narrow entrance, the lighting disappeared after about twenty feet, so Red conjured a ball of light, which cast an eerie, shadowless light. Inanis drew his blades with a soft snick.

"Something feels off," he murmured.

"It's nothing."

"There's a foul wind that blows, can you not feel it?"

"No. It's still, like death in here."

"Death. Yes. Death."

The path narrowed, then suddenly widened to a roughly circular chamber. Unlike the cut in the rock, this area seemed artificial. It was too round, too orderly for nature.

"Someone carved this area out," Inanis remarked. "The walls stink of blood and fear. We should turn back."

"No," Red hissed sharply. "We're almost there. I know it."

"Is your treasure really worth it?"

"You have no idea."

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Red snuffed the magelight--and they noticed the faint red glow. "It's here," she almost shouted and raced forward. She followed the red to it's source, a stone plateau about ten feet high. No stairs lead up to the top and no handholds allowed for climbing.

"How in the hell--?" But Inanis had her scooped up in his arms and simply jumped up to the top.

"Not sure how I did that," he remarked.

A skeleton sat against a lone rock, hunched forward, clutching a sword to its chest, greedily. Red rushed forward, shouting, "This it it! I found it!"

But Inanis caught her. "No! You must not touch that blade! I feel a great evil within--can it be? No! It is! That is the the Cruor, the Blood Drinker!"

"Yes, I know! I've been looking for this sword for years!"

But he held fast. "I will not allow you to--"

"I command you: Let. Me. Go." And he released her. "You have to do what I say, don't you get it? You're a spirit. I summoned you on the beach to help me, to protect me!"

Inanis wanted desperately to deny it, to call her a liar and storm away, but something rooted him to the spot. He felt the truth in her words. "W-Why can I not remember who I am?"

"I don't know." Red brushed her hair out of her face. "I think I messed the incantation up, I didn't say your name so it just picked you out of the spirit world. Now, if you don't mind..." She turned away and reached for the sword. He wanted to stop her, but her command bound him. The instant her fingers touched the hilt, it was over. Ancient magic flooded her being. Hundreds of screaming souls reached out to grasp at hers and drown it in the terrible void. She held strong and wrested the blade from Greenbeard's skeleton.

Inanis saw her physically change in that moment. She stood straighter, seemed taller, and moved with more purpose. A shadow was cast over her, a dark aura that roiled like a volcano and threatened to consume her. He was his to command, but it was then he realized he would stay by her side regardless. Cruor was an ancient evil, dating back to the Mage Wars. Possibly even before. Red, whoever she was, needed protection, and he would be her protector. Whoever he was, he was a Guardian Spirit.

"Let's go," she commanded, icily. "I want to go home and show mommy and daddy." She smiled; it frightened him.

"Where is home?"

"New Ossen."

Inanis took her in his arms and felt his Spirit magic fill him. Knowing who he was allowed him to be who he was. "Swift feet of the racing tides!" He took her home.