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Glory and Blood

For the Glory

The crowd cheered.

Pre-game entertainment was finally over and now it was time for the main event. Thirty-thousand spectators were perched in the ‘low’ class seats amongst the sloping bleachers that rose from the base of the arena all the way up to near the top of the vaguely elliptical, underground cavern. For those of ‘moderate’ means, hovering platforms soared through the air, making lazy laps around the grounds. The ‘skybox’ consisted of a literal crystal cube floating in the middle of the arena right above where the action would be held complete with crystal floor so the spectators sipping their wine and nibbling on their caviar could see people die for their entertainment.

No matter what form of ‘equality’ was advertised on the surface and amongst the rest of Tower Thirteen, here in the Helioclast Coliseum, class and money spoke for everyone and divided the masses. Those amongst the lower sections of the stands were stripped of all their worldly possessions. Most were completely naked. The organizers amongst the Association claimed they wanted to make sure the crowd felt the blood on their skins when a competitor died. Those on the platforms were dressed in more civilized clothing like they were going to the opera or for a night out at an elegant restaurant. And for the elite in the skybox, they were all dressed similarly with the exception that they all wore golden masks to hide their identities.

Even from where he stood waiting amongst the other competitors in ‘Competitors Tunnel’, Kane Fenn could see how every member of the elite within that crystal cube were dressed in black suits regardless of whether they were male or female. Each had white gloves on their hands. Their attire was enchanted so regardless of their size, species or gender, they all appeared like generic humanoids. All to protect their identities.

It was funny how those in the ‘middle class’ seats took great pains to standout but those within the crystal cube took mains to make sure they could not be recognized.

After all, if the Church of the Tower or the military heard about some wealthy men and women betting assets and the very economy of the world on blood sport, they would be bearing down upon the arena with all the force they could muster. Anonymity was key for the Association.

“Are you ready?”

The big, black bear with iridescent indigo hair - which he had just dyed for this occasion - regarded the much smaller human who stood by his side. This man was dressed in a black suit complete with a bright red tie. There was a steel collar around his neck, quietly flashing with a few bulbs that registered him as a slave to the Association. One wrong move and the enchantments on the collar would trigger, slowly constricting and suffocating the man. His head was completely shaved of hair - including his eyebrows - and there wasn’t an inch of facial hair on his cleft chin. His blue-gray eyes were hollow, broken. Half of his face was gnarled and looked like it had been burned in a fire.

“You should be asking the other competitors,” Kane grunted.

“I already have,” responded the master of ceremonies for today’s match. “You are the last.”

Kane snorted with amusement. “I’ve been ready since I stepped into this hellhole. Get this show started. I’m itching for blood.”

The MC’s eyes lowered again. “As you wish.”

The man in the suit stepped out into the sand-covered arena. Hot spotlights fell upon him and the crowd began jeering like lunatics. Within the skybox, the current host lifted a wine glass to salute the beginning festivities. His mask was shaped like a golden-eared rabbit.

“Ladies, gentlemen and everything in between and without,” declared the MC in a booming, energetic voice that belied his empty eyes. “Welcome to another exciting qualifying challenge here at Helioclast Coliseum!”

Kane gnashed his fangs together as he watched the MC make his way to the center of the arena, saluting the audience, their guests on the platforms and then their hosts up in the skybox. Once the formalities were done with and the MC stood at the center of the arena, he began to explain the lineup in earnest.

“Today, we have an exciting event for you all! Today, we will be deciding who amongst our talented competitors will have the honor of facing off against our own Ash Prince!”

The displays littering the arena flashed with the images of one of the Association’s champions - the esteemed Ash Prince. While not really a ‘prince’, the gray-feathered Avios male with red vertical tattoos crossing his eyes was a member of the Searanti - the race of ‘savages’ as the Church called them who practiced a bizarre hybrid art of Pyromancy, Hemomancy and Geomancy known as Ashland Arts. They sacrificed people to their ‘volcano gods’ and then used the ash spewed by said volcanos for their magic. The Searanti were normally restricted to the Archipelago that they were named after but it seemed that the Ash Prince had somehow found himself in the favor of the Association.

“In order to earn the right to face off the Ash Prince and his Court in combat, our competitors will first have to qualify for that right! Today, we will pitch them against an obstacle course that will test their wit, reflexes and endurance!”

The MC gestured towards the opposite end of the arena. There were two, large checkered poles with large red flags planted atop them. The finish line.

“All contestants must do is make their way from the starting line to that finish line and they instantly qualify!”

Kane waited for something to happen. Some obstacle course to immediately appear between them as he watched and the MC started introducing the contestants, he realized nothing was going to appear.

“So,” Rayne Noam said, crackling his knuckles ominously, “either they expect us to kill one another for the honor of fighting the Ash Prince or there’s something else here we’re missing.”

The much shorter human-shaped-demon held out his hands towards Kane. The towering, muscular bear grinned at him before reaching into his ever-present duffel bag. Within was a pocket dimension where he stored a myriad of equipment and tools necessary for his survival. Most of the Godslayers - as he and dubbed the team - had given him their weapons to store. One of those weapons was a pair of gauntlets - Burnicade - which he retrieved and handed to Rayne.

The Demon Prince slipped on the gauntlets, his purple eyes flashing with a sick glee as he wiggled his fingers beneath the black mail armor and bright, crimson plating. He slammed the knuckles together three times, sparks shooting from the impact.

“There’s more,” growled the big, Green Draconis that strangely had a digitigrade stance. Wood Bladebreaker spun the two handaxes he was currently wielding, Cataclysm and Cindarc, one green and the other red. The dragon was arguably bigger than Kane given that the former had two, huge leathery wings jutting out of his back that was fully capable of lifting his enormous frame into the air. In terms of sheer muscle mass, though, Kane knew he was bigger. “The sand of this place? It’s ash. Old ash. His Highness is going to do something shady.”

Kane glanced down at his feet, currently covered in thick, black, steel-toed boots. True enough, the ‘sand’ covering the arena was indeed gray ash. Hard-packed and old, underneath the harsh artificial lights of the arena, it almost looked like sand.

“… and next up, we have the team who call themselves the Iconoclasts! The Ursus known as Obsidian!”

Kane pushed off the wall he was leaning on and swung his bag over one shoulder. “That’s my queue.” He flashed them both a grin. “See you two out there.”

He strode out into the spotlights, no fear in his eyes and large, powerful chest puffed out proudly. There was a good chance someone out there recognized him but as he had come to learn, the Association punished those who spoke of the Association. Even if a fellow classmate, some random bystander or someone who wasn’t competing mentioned the had seen him competing in this blood sport, they would instantly ‘disappear’. As a competitor, he had the protection of the Association… even if it meant that he was constantly risking his life in the arena.

Taking up position amongst twenty other men and women of different species and ages, he watched them all with a keen interest. All were somewhere on the spectrum of nerves and confidence and all stood behind the big, red line that denoted the starting line.

“The Indigo Violence!”

That was Rayne. All of them had to go under pseudonyms. Much like the hosts, their identities were to be kept mostly a secret. No one knew each other’s real names unless they were that close to their team. Even the ‘Ash Prince’ wasn’t truly named ‘Ash’ and neither were the other champions of the Association called by their titles. In one life or another, they were competitors just like Kane, Wood and Rayne. Then, their sponsors earned enough wealth and accumulated enough prestige to enter the skybox and be masked anonymously.

Rayne stepped up beside Kane, rolling his shoulders.

“Lastly, Killer Green!”

And that was Wood. The Draconis jogged up to Kane’s left, huffing and raring to go, acid dripping from his fangs while crimson flames engulfed Cindarc and emerald ones surged out of Cataclysm.

A few more teams and their contestants were introduced. The MC knew how to whip up the crowd because by the end of fifty introductions, the crowd was in an absolute frenzy.

“Now let us begin our qualifying match!” bellowed the MC. “On your marks!”

Competitors started crouching, ready to bolt for the finish. Others were arming their weapons. There was a Lutrinian of the otter variety with a minigun that was already revving up its barrels. A woman in a long cloak that he thought appeared to be a Bovios drew two, long, curved blades from their sheathes.

“Get set!”

The ash around them began to move and swirl. Long wisps of the silvery particles hissed like serpents, curling along the arena and bringing a stunned silence upon the contestants and spectators. The MC had backed away, placing himself behind the finish line. The sandstorm intensified until there was a localized wall of silver particles right between the start and finish lines.

“Go!”

The first person to react was a spry human with coppery skin. He yelled something like ‘see you later, suckers!’ and bolted into the storm. He didn’t get more than a few feet away before there was a sound like a buzzsaw shredding through flesh that made everyone stop. Blood exploded out o fhe sandstorm, splattering all over the face of the man’s teammate. She looked stunned for a moment before letting out a shrill scream. Her other teammate held out a hand into the storm, his fingers vanishing into the storm. That sound came again and when he pulled it back, everything from the second knuckle up was completely gone, blood bursting out.

“Fuck this!” roared the Lutrinian and began firing into the storm, screaming as his minigun came to life in a stunning blaze. Other competitors joined in, hurling spells and firing weaponry into the raging storm.

Kane immediately began backing away, his sense of danger screaming at him. Wood and Rayne sensed it as well and they too retreated. Some others noticed - particularly that woman with the curved blades.

Without warning, the ash shot outwards like a long, metal spike. It pierced the otter’s chest, leaving a bowling-ball-sized hole in his torso. The Lutrinian had all of a second to look down at the gaping hole in his chest before he collapsed in a pool of his own blood. Similar projectiles came shooting out of the storm, ripping through contestants with frightening ease. Kane sidestepped the coming assault, recognizing the pattern in the assaults as quickly as just one other competitor - the woman with those swords. Rayne and Wood were just a step behind, dancing left and right, avoiding the attacks as they did so.

The woman darted towards the stands, leaping up the twenty-foot tall wall and jumping into the crowd. They screamed and protested but didn’t have much of a say as she sped through the spectators and worked her way around the arena, around the swirl storm.

“That’s smart,” Kane chuckled to himself. “But technically cheating.”

“Not that anyone here really cares about the rules,” scoffed Rayne. “Shall we?”

He lifted a finger. “Give it a second.”

The sandstorm must have just noticed the woman’s attempt to circumvent the assault because long tendrils of ash shot out of the main body and began giving her chase. Poor spectators who must have paid premium prices to get right up to the edge of the arena were caught in the crossfire, being pierced or shredded by the storm’s fingers. She was fast but the tentacles were getting faster and faster.

“Now,” Kane declared. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled on the long, cracked shaft of a hammer that looked like it was made entirely out of molten lava - his Spicy Meatball. He lifted the hammer over his head and immediately brought it crashing downwards in front of him. Huge spikes of lava exploded from the ground, shooting forward in a trail that cut into the sandstorm. Wood raced forward, darting into the middle of the pathway Kane had made and flung both his axes forward. Red and green flames burst from his two weapons, surging upwards and barring the storm from advancing down another path. That was Rayne’s queue and as Kane caught up with Wood, the Demon Prince thrust both his fists forward, creating two, huge, purple palms that physically pushed the ash storm back and opening the way to the finish line.

The trio forming the Iconoclast team strode up to the finish line with ease much to the cheer of the crowd. The few competitors that remained saw the opening and darted after them, possibly realizing that this was their chance or that they could form barriers that could block the assaulting ash from taking them. A few used what magic they could to do the same but Kane had no interest in them. He instead turned his attention to that one woman who had been bolting around the outskirts of the coliseum. He was disappointed to see her mangled and shredded bits at the base of the wall.

She hadn’t made it.

A few others teams did though. Overall, out of fifty competitors, nine crossed the threshold to the finish line. It was less than thirty minutes and forty-one lives had been lost. The storm of carnivorous ash faded, leaving the arena still save for the cheering of the crowd and silent applause of the skybox spectators.

“And there we have it!” declared the MC. “Our winners who will move on to the next round and face off against the Ash Prince! The team that manages to defeat the Ash Prince will earn the right for their sponsor to claim what assets that Ash Prince’s sponsor has put up as part of the ante! Let’s have a look now at what those assets are!”

This was what Kane was waiting for.

He turned towards the displays and watched with anticipation. The black screens suddenly burst with a brilliant emblem. The silhouette of a outstretched hand as if offering aid to the audience while a tongue of flame sat on its palm. The words ‘Reaching Flame’ were emblazoned around it.

“The charity known as the Reaching Flame!”

Rayne and Wood exchanged knowing glances. Kane grinned hungrily at the emblem.

“That’s our target, boys,” he declared. “The Reaching Flame.”

As the crowd was cheering, the MC approached the survivors. In a much quieter tone and that dead-pan stare of his, he said, “Congratulations on your win. You will be contacted through the normal means on when your next match will begin. The order which you will face the Ash Prince will be determined by a random order. Should anyone succeed in defeating the Ash Prince and claiming the Reaching Flame, you will be notified and be moved to the next available slot to compete for your sponsor. You will once again be required to attempt a qualifying match.”

The MC turned away, the collar quietly flashing away. “Congratulations again.”

Rayne gently patted Kane’s shoulder. “We need to get going.”

He nodded in agreement and they quickly went through the nearby tunnels to leave the arena once more. There were other matches that would be held in Helioclast Coliseum but they had gotten what they wanted. Together, all three of the Godslayers left the arena and approached the transit station perched right underneath the facility. The Coliseum was buried deep within the Grey Mountains, far away from Corona but not so far that the transit line couldn’t get them back to the city within a ten minutes. No sunlight ever touched the Coliseum perhaps as a snub to the Sun Goddess that provided warmth and guidance to the rest of the Station of the Sun.

As competitors, they were able to board one of the express lines without being accosted by the fans. Unsurprisingly, whole crowds of people were leaving the station to get to the Coliseum to catch the next match. Even though it was the middle of the night, these underground fights caught a lot of attention.

Kane sat down in the tram, devoid of others except for himself, Rayne and Wood. He crossed his arms and reflected on the journey that had brought them here.

Once he had contacted Maximillian Magmillion again and asked him about the Association, the wealthy businessman had been adamant about him remaining silent about the organization in public. A bit of subterfuge and secrecy later, Kane was being told about the Association… and these fights.

The Association was a secret cabal of wealthy and elite people all over Tower Thirteen. They had no ruling or governing body. No solid hierarchy. Even someone who barely scraped by on their portfolio or traded in volatile assets could be included in the Association. Royalty from other Stations, high ranking members of the Church of the Tower, powerful military commanders and even someone was unassuming as a real estate agent could be part of the Association. The purpose of the group was to enjoy their prestige without the scrutiny of governing bodies… and morals.

Apparently, the Association’s members participated in orgies alongside hosting these fights to the death. There were even rumors that they often practiced cannibalism simply because it was so abhorred by the rest of the society. To them, the greatest means to flex their wealth and power was to do what the rest of the world said they couldn’t.

And that was why Maximillian Magmillion had ultimately extended an invitation to Kane. After the towering Ursus had made an impression on the octogenerian and his young wife when they first met at Heaton Bellember’s upscale party at a museum, Magmillion has seen the same merciless and unscrupulous ambition in Kane that the Association enjoyed and nurtured.

A few days later, Kane, Wood and Rayne were fighting on behalf of their ‘sponsor’.

Amongst the Association’s elite members, trading assets was like breathing. But to add an extra amount of thrill to their exchanges, the elite hosted these bloody games. A member would put up their asset for a ‘bid’ and then interested parties would then pitch their greatest fighters to compete against that member’s champion. Winner gets the asset transfered to them without question.

Kane glanced out the windows of the speeding tram. There was utter darkness except for brief flashes of light as they sped though the secretive underground tunnels. It still puzzled him how, even with all of their wealth, the Association managed to hide such a network from the military. Or perhaps they didn’t and it just so happens that military officials were in the Association’s back pocket.

In his reflection, he noticed a splash of blood on his cheek. With a grunt, he wiped it off, rubbing the blood into his fur. No one would be able to tell unless they appraised him closely.

Seeing that blood reminded him that there was more to this than slaking some bloodlust or winning a charity for their sponsor. This all led to their search for the elusive FireFeather, the Talon of the Fire God and the supposed weapon that was key to the end of the world.

Just a week and a half ago, they had returned from an excursion to the legendary Lost Incendian Fleet. There, they had discovered that FireFeather once rested there. The legendary blacksmith known as Rahl had been hired by a member of the Association, Maxwell Magmillion, to search for blade. They found it and Rahl was left on the fleet as a sacrifice while Maxwell left with his prize.

Maximillian - Maxwell’s father - recalled that his son had never been the same after returning from that trip. Maxwell vanished but not before making a few odd business transactions with many members of the Association. One member - known simply as ‘The Bleeding Heart of Fire’ - was apparently one of these members. The Bleeding Heart had recently put up a challenge to the rest of the Association. Beat his Ash Prince and get one of his charities.

Thus, Kane had led others to get closer to the Bleeding Heart.

When the train stopped, the trio left and quietly emerged through a secret passage out into the middle of Corona’s streets. They hurriedly headed up the white cobblestones currently basking in the dark, twilight of the Sun Spire back to the trams that would bring them up to the floating campus of Pinnacle College_._ The campus was fast asleep at this stage. By his reckoning, it was two in the morning.

They each split off with a quiet nod to one another, looking to sneak back into their quarters and dormitories. With the puzzle behind Rahl resolved, the Godslayers had moved back into Pinnacle’s housing. This was an attempt by most of the senior members team to try and prevent any of them from engaging in the fights that Association set up.

Not everyone agreed on that course of action.

Kane caught a whiff of lavender as he strode through the dimly lit halls of the College and knew what was awaiting him.

“Late night run?” Aria Valkyrie accused.

“Nope,” Kane responded, turning around smugly and regarded the Angel with a smirk. “Went to a pub.” He winked at her. “Can’t accuse me of underage drinking.”

“You don’t smell like alcohol,” she responded, her purple eyes accusing him.

“I just said I went to the pub. Never said I drank.”

She strode up to him, the black cloak of a Templar fluttering behind her. Her supple fingers gently ran down the inside of the collar of his shirt, wiping a bit off blood off. He had missed that. “I assume you found some other form of entertainment apart from inebriation?”

He shrugged and began walking backwards, arms outstretched helplessly. “You won’t let me beat the skulls in of Association bastards so I’ve got to get my release somewhere else. Unless you’re offering, Lady Valkyrie.”

Her eyes were full of distrust but she sighed and waved absently over her shoulder. “I am a chaperone for you and the others. It is my duty to care. But this is reckless.”

“It was just a bar brawl,” he lied. “No one was seriously hurt.”

From her gaze alone, it was clear she didn’t believe him but she had no evidence to accuse him otherwise. Rayne had seen to that.

“Kane, far be it for me to tell you what you can and cannot do,” she said evenly, “but you need to be very careful. You might find yourself on the wrong side of someone very important. Even the rich and famous like to go to pubs, after all.”

The intention behind her words were clear and Kane just huffed at them. “I can handle myself.”

“Of that I am sure. My concern is with those you care about. Even the legendary Chronomancer was not so callous as to wave his powers around without consideration of the consequences of his actions. He understood that one misplaced word could change the course of history and lead to more casualties than necessary.” She turned her back to him, leaving him with a last few parting words. “Just be careful that your actions don’t catch anyone else in the crossfire.”

Searanti Studies

Searanti Studies was not a very popular topic as evidenced by the distinct lack of students in the class. Apart from Wood, Skye and JD, there were only about seven other people in the large auditorium including their lecturer, one Professor Eswick. The female human had strange, grey-black skin that denoted her as a native of Arret. Unlike most natives, she didn’t go around wearing a toga but wore a pristine, white pantsuit that contrasted against her dark skin. She spoke with a thick Arretian accent that made it a little to discern what she was saying but Wood got the gist of most of what she was saying.

“There auhr faihv maihn volcanoes in Searanti.”

Wood had to glance to his left where Skye sat, looking to him for a translation.

“There are five main volcanoes in the Searanti Archipelago,” whispered the Tigris.

“Who cahn name ‘em?”

Skye’s paw instantly went into the air - probably the only person enthusiastic about these studies. Wood was ashamed to admit that he had manipulated his friend a little into choosing to attend this class. Apart from being another theoretical class with no practical applications, it dealt with the Searanti whose Ashland Arts was deeply reliant of Spirit energy. This was of great interest to the Tigris as it was heavily related to his own Spirit Magic and background as a shaman. Of course, Wood had no actual interest in that. He was more interested in learning about Ashland Arts and the Searanti in general.

Anything to help him in their impending fight against the so-called Ash Prince.

Skye named the five main volcanoes which also made up the five names of the Searanti Pantheon. The Searanti worshiped the volcanoes as their gods and even went so far as to sacrifice their own to said volcanoes when they wanted something. Most saw this as a barbaric practice but no one could deny that the islands of the Searanti Archipelago was one of the most fertile lands in all of Incendius and the Searanti had somehow managed to repel constant Church incursions for millennia.

“They’re Na _’olowa, Malano’lai, O’lani, Ni’mui_ and Kakanuni,_ ”_ Skye recited.

“Excellent,” Eswick beamed. “Five points.”

Skye’s right paw glimmered, five tiny cubes of light jumping from his fingertips and letting out a soft chime before drifting back into his orange fur. More points to his rubric and that much closer to a passing grade.

Eswick went on the explain that while there were smaller islands that were constantly active, these five were the greatest amongst them because they were the biggest. Na _’olowa_ known as the Fire Mother was the biggest and the Searanti believed all the other islands spawned from her. Geologically speaking, this wasn’t quite right. Na_ ’olowa_ was just the one that managed to spew the most lava and said lava cooled the widest. The oldest was actually O _’lani_ which was the farthest island from the Searanti capital of Ola_ ’nanu. O’lani_ was the trickster god of their pantheon as the Searanti believed that it was unpredictable. The people living upon it had to constantly move due to its constant eruptions and the unpredictable nature of the lava flow.

“Malano’lai is their gahd of wahr,” she continued. “The volcano called Malano’lai hahs collapsed on it’s eastern face.”

Ni’mui was their fertility god and sat in the middle of the other volcanoes, protected as that was where the Searanti underwent their monthly fertility rituals - in essence huge orgies and births. Lastly was Kakanuni, their god of knowledge and wisdom. The tallest of the volcanoes, it was responsible for the near-constant shroud of ash that covered a large portion of the islands, supposedly it was a veil that protected it form the outside world.

She went into great detail on how there were many theories that Malano _’lai_ was, in fact, Adramalech, the Apostle of Fire or the God of Fire depending on which religious doctrine you subscribed to. There were stories passed down amongst the Searanti about how Malano_ ’lai_ once tried to leave his volcano and attack the Incendian Mainland but was thwarted by the light of the Sun Spire. This was never corroborated and despite how the Searanti insist that the body of Malano’lai still lies in the bottom of the ocean, no evidence of a sleeping god remained.

“Does ahnyone know ahbout the Ahshlahnd Wahr?” Eswick asked.

Once again, Skye’s paw went up into the air.

“The Ashland War,” recited Skye. “Occuring in 2338 Anno XIII. It was a massive invasion of Searanti forces both to the Incendian Mainland and the Sunless Lands. It is estimated that over forty-thousand lives were lost in the conflict. That’s not counting how many Ashland Warriors were lost. It was incited by the highly sentient Fire Elemental Kut’Miure who supposedly came out of one of the smaller volcanoes and pretended to be a herald of the Searanti Pantheon.”

Now Wood’s attention was perked. All he knew thus far was that the Church had made multiple attempts to convert the Searanti but had always failed. This was the first he had heard about the Searanti going on the offensive even if this was a war that occurred about six hundred years ago.

Skye went on to explain that the Searanti overwhelmed the fortress of Everash which was the Church’s only stronghold in the Archipelago during the War. A small contingent of forces managed to survive but they were unable to stop the invasion of millions of Ashland Warriors spreading to the rest of Incendius. The Searanti used a form of magic and technology called the ‘Lava Pits’ where they threw captive and even dead bodies of both friend and foe to be converted into more Ashland Warriors. The Pits were also how the Searanti remained organized with one another, coordinating their attacks and being let by Kut’Miure.

Eventually, that small contingent of Church forces managed to find out what Kut’Miure really was and exposed him to the rest of the Searanti. This broke their faith in their supposed messiah and spurred on the defenders. It was when Kut’Miure was killed that the Searanti retreated. This, unfortunately, led do the utter destruction of the very volcano that the false prophet came from, turning the volcano into an underwater caldera.

As class wrapped up, Eswick gave them the standard test at the end of the class. Skye, naturally, excelled and got near-perfect marks. The few points he lost was because he didn’t spell one of the main Searanti volcanoes right. JD got a decent grade - not fantastic but well above passing - while Wood just barely passed. Theory was never his thing.

Still, after the class, he approached Eswick while JD and Skye waited for him outside.

“Professor,” he asked, “has any Searanti ever immigrated outside of the Archipelago?”

Eswick’s gave him a sad look. “Yes. Mahny. Ovah the years, many Searanti hahve tried to escape their Volcano Priests. Is why the Church maintained Everash. Those who maide it to thah fort would be processed ahnd given asylum.”

So it was possible for them to leave their islands and integrate with the rest of society.

“How does it usually go for them?”

There came the source of Eswick’s sadness. “Mahny don’t trust thah Searanti even if they’ve been with us for years. There’s still ahlot of discrimination. Mahny turn to crime or become mercenaries because no one will trust them with ahnest work.”

Perhaps that was what this Ash Prince was. A refugee of the Searanti who was never given a real shot in ‘civilized’ society and forced to turn to more unsavory means to survive. It honestly didn’t surprise Wood. As a Fallen himself, he was forced to basically hide away with the Clarkes because it would harm his extremely wealthy mother’s image to be associated with someone who - for the countless millennia that the Church ruled - would be considered the pinnacle of sin. He did so out of respect for his mother but it still left him with a bitter taste in his mouth that few could ever look past what he was and see who he was.

“Thank you, professor,” he mumbled.

Upon leaving the auditorium, he was surprised to find Rayne waiting alongside JD and Skye, the three of them chatting idly.

“Rayne,” he greeted with a grunt. “What’s up?”

Part of him was on edge. Did they receive instructions from the Association already on when their next fight would be? So soon?

“Hey Wood,” the Demon Prince greeted casually. “I was just telling the boys here that I found this really neat combat simulation I’d like to try out with you.” He held up two fingers. Between them was pressed a simple card made of of shimmering, red crystal. “It’s a simulation against a different levels of Searanti troops captured through years of the Church fighting them. Aria was kind enough to lend it to me.”

He was instantly suspicious. Neither JD, Skye and most certainly Aria were aware that they were participating in the underground bloodsports to find FireFeather. Skye and Aria had been vehemently against the topic but JD had abstained his vote, simply stating that he trusted everyone else’s judgment.

“She did, did she?” he asked.

“Not without some questioning,” Rayne admitted with a shrug. “I’ve got a limited knowledge of the Searanti. They are far too strict and dictatorial with their rule to let any of them be susceptible to demonic influence. But I still figured that it would be a great educational opportunity for all three of you.” He grinned and ruffled JD’s hair a little. “The Searanti have a unique form of combat that usually involves staves and baton weapons.” Then he nodded towards Skye. “Their Ashland Arts is a form of Spirit Magic that I thought you might be interested in.”

Then his eyes drifted to Wood. “I thought you might as well join in the fun and score some extra points to your rubric. I’ve cleared it with the board. You get points for every simulation you clear. Each simulation gets harder and harder but you get more points as you go up.”

Trust Rayne to weave training against the Ash Prince and veil it under education.

“Do we really need more exercise?” Wood asked, crossing his arms behind his head and stifling a yawn.

“Yes,” answered the Demon Prince bluntly. “Especially you, Wood.”

“Me?” he responded, pointing at himself. “What did I do?”

“More like what didn’t you do?” Rayne gestured at Skye and then JD. “Skye’s academics are excellent. They make up for his lack of practical testing. While JD can’t use magic directly, he’s able to use tools that Hunter gives him to pass some practical assessments and his academics are decent. They’re both sitting at an F-minus right now. Still failing but it’s still better than your UG.”

Wood grimaced. “I’ll catch up. I’ve got the rest of the year.”

“A year that could be interrupted at a moment’s notice.” Rayne grabbed his tail and began pulling him. “You all need the extracurricular activities and the extra points. I won’t be satisfied with any of you just passing. You need to excel.”

The big, green dragon forced himself to go limp but he immediately realize this was a foolish venture. Against the raw might of a Demon Prince, his five-hundred-pound weight of muscles and scales would not be enough to slow him down. So he yanked his tail back, slapping it in an annoyed manner on the ground, shoved his hands into pockets and followed Rayne over to the private combat simulators.

This early in the morning, there were few people using them as they were in that grace period where morning classes were still in full swing and after morning workouts were already done. Rayne had booked them a moderately sized simulator and inserted the card into the console at the door which he manned.

The white walls of the simulator shimmered and shifted, transporting them into a little pocket dimension befitting their foes. The skies were a constant, gloomy gray with the dark clouds above their head spewing from a distant volcano. The ground beneath their feet was dark and covered with ash though the distant slopes of the nearby volcano were quite lush with greenery. Far off in the distance was the shining light of the Sun Spire, barely a speck on the horizon like a distant sunset.

“Okay,” Rayne announced, “this first simulation is against the Searanti’s most basic foot soldiers.”

“Ashland Warriors?” Skye chimed.

“No. Their generic flesh-and-bone fighters that they call ‘Maluk’mui’.”

Wood’s brow furrowed as beams of light danced in front of them to form three completely identical avios of the parrot variation wearing little more than loin cloths and wielding large, leaf-shaped shields and spears. They were admittedly muscular and looked quite fit but compared to the students at Pinnacle, they would not pose a challenge.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he stated. “Really?”

Without warning, JD suddenly tugged him backwards. The sharpened end of one of the Searanti’s wooden spears just barely missed his left eye.

“Don’t underestimate the Searanti,” warned Rayne from where he stood. “Yes you have more advanced technology and perhaps better training but even a stray strike will be enough to cripple you.”

Wood reached for Cataclysm which hung from his hip and then drew Cindarc in his other hand. Beside him, JD was drawing the twin blades of Conflagration while Skye activated Nullfire Covenant and began to float in the air. The Searanti struck again and this time, Wood was ready. He easily swatted aside the strike from the spear and then lunged, swinging Cataclysm downwards. As expected, the Avios blocked the attack with the leather shield. Vicious green energies crackled from the blade of his handaxe, eating away at the leather and causing it to degrade rapidly. Grinning, Wood inhaled sharply and then spat a torrent of violent, green acid right through the hole his handaxe made in the shield. The Searanti screamed as the caustic liquid ate away at his feathered arm. Wood swung with Cindarc, burying the blade in the bird’s arm and then yanked his foe towards him. He slammed his horned head against the savage volcano-worshiper and sent him crashing to the ground.

The simulated foe shimmered and vanished a second later. Beside him, JD had dispatched of his foe with ease. The one facing off against Skye was engulfed in silvery flames and similarly vanished.

“Good,” Rayne commented. “You all get one point to your rubric.” Their instructor tapped a few more buttons on the console. “That was just the first level. Let’s try something a little more complicated.”

This time, nine Searanti warriors appeared. Immediately, the avians moved into formation. One of them was in front of the others while the another two flanked him from behind. All had shields up. It was a battle formation Wood was unfamiliar with.

“Delta Formation,” JD warned, readying his blades. “The guy in the front is the offensive component while the two behind offer extra coverage and fend off attackers.”

“Good eye,” Rayne commented. “I see someone has been studying their combat tactics. Extra point for you, JD.”

Wood growled a little in jealousy. “How do you beat the ‘Delta Formation’, then, genius?”

The crimson Wulfun smirked. “Easy.”

As the Avios moved, so did the Red Lightning. He vanished in a flash of crimson lightning, reappearing behind the three Searanti facing him. With a flash of his fiery blades, the two offering a protective flank were downed. JD leapt back, swung his swords in a familiar fashion. Wings made out of fire burst from his back before wrapping around his shoulders protectively. He charged at the last remaining Searanti, performing a perfect Phoenix Charge… except when he and the simulated foe crashed to the ground, he tumbled and rolled.

“I saw that when you used the Phoenix Charge against Rahl,” commented Rayne. “We need to work on your recovery, JD.”

The red Wulfun offered an apologetic grin. “Yeah. Still trying to get used to the move.”

Somewhat satisfied that JD wasn’t perfect, Wood engaged his enemies armed with the knowledge his friend had provided him. He pulled back the arm clutching Cindarc and threw it. The fiery axe slammed into the front Searanti’s shield with enough force that all three men were pushed back by the shockwave. This gave Wood the chance to charge forward and throw himself at the trio. He spread his wings as he did so and leapt into the air, flying over the three. When he was in midair, he breathed a rain of acid down on them. They screamed as they tried to wipe the caustic drool off their bodies. He landed behind them and he swung Cataclysm, slicing through their bodies and ending the round. Not too far away, Skye had also dealt with his foes in a flurry of silver fire.

“Good. Good.” Rayne began tapping on the console. Wood’s right arm shimmered and two cubes danced from his flesh before sinking back into his palm. Two points were added to his rubric. “Can any of you tell me what makes the Searanti dangerous though?”

Wood huffed as he pulled Cindarc out of the ground. “It’s that no matter how many of their flesh-and-bone troops fall, they can always be reconstructed into those fucking constructs. The Ashland Warriors.”

Rayne offered a dark grin. “Exactly.”

The air shimmered. A second later, there was a big, towering creature about ten feet tall. Its entire body was made of compact ash. Veins of shimmering fire ran throughout its entire body. No mouth sat on its features but there was a single, vertical eye blazing with flames that adorned its head. The most discerning thing about the construct was how its ‘flesh’ constantly rippled and shifted much like it was sand that was constantly moving or it was made of thousands of tiny, gray bugs that were crawling over one another to form a vaguely humanoid shape.

“What’s so tough about a pile of smoldering ash?” huffed Wood. He charged and swung Cataclysm. He was expecting resistance, for his axe to at least slow down as it passed through the ash-colored construct but instead, it passed through like he was just swiping at air. It was literally like throwing his handaxe against a pile of ash.

“Uh…” he began.

The Ashland Warrior lifted a fist and -

WHAM!

… send him crashing back into the ground, his jaw and head ringing.

“What the fuck!?” he cried, rubbing his cheeks.

“Now you understand,” Rayne said confidently, his tone that of teacher who had rightfully put his arrogant students in their place. “The Ashland Warriors are unique constructs. Defensively speaking, they are nearly impossible to attack and damage.”

JD swiped at the Warrior’s kneecaps but the fiery swords of Conflagration just passed through them. The nimble Wulfun was far faster than the lumbering construct though so he was able to duck away from the retaliatory strike. He grit his fangs together and jabbed at the creature with his sword, piercing its shoulder. He kept the blade there but the ash that the warrior was made out of just wrapped around the blade and threatened to tear it from him so he was forced to pull back and retreat.

“Offensively, they have the might of a creature of equal musculature and size,” Rayne continued. “The ash they consist of is in a state of constant flux while they are not attacking. When they go on the offensive, the ash compressed itself into a complicated lattice that could be comparable to diamond in hardness.”

“So we hit it while it’s hard!” Wood growled, lunging at the creature again. He didn’t get to see Rayne roll his eyes and shake his head. The green Draconis roared and spread his wings, being as threatening as possible. The Warrior immediately turned its attention to him and approached, pulling back a fist. Now that he knew what to look for, he did notice that the Warrior’s arm hardened and stopped writhing as it pulled back. When that fist came at him, Wood caught the fist against Cindarc, blade out so that the red axe’s bite struck deep into the construct’s arm. He was pushed back several feet but was still in range to bring Cataclysm crashing down against the warrior’s wrist.

The corrosive green acid of his green axe oozed over the fist… bit did little else but seem to eat away at the surface layer of ash.

“The fuck!?”

“Despite having to compress its form for offense,” Rayne lectured. As he began his speech, the Warrior’s other hand came lashing out, grabbing Wood by the neck and throwing the dragon aside. “It is still composed of pieces of ash. This means that attempts to tear away at its armor or form would be incredibly time consuming as you would have to destroy every single piece of ash that composes its body. It is also intelligent enough to shed any pieces of ash that’s been ‘infected’ to keep the rest of its body from falling to the same damaging effects.”

True to his words, small slivers of ash dropped from the Ashland Warrior’s body, those grains being consumed by Wood’s green malice. The rest remained clean like it had just ex-foliated dead skin.

“Skye!?” Wood barked.

The floating Tigris flung balls of white fire at the warrior, trying to dispel the inherent Pyromancy that kept it going. However, just like Wood’s attacks, each blast merely caused bursts of ash to fly out from the creature and did nothing to stop its advance.

“Keep at a distance!” roared the Draconis. “It doesn’t have a ranged attack!” He scrambled to his feet, grabbed JD by the collar and dragged him away from the Warrior. Skye hovered overhead, keeping a respectable distance.

“Funny you should say that…” Rayne warned.

The vertical eye of the Warrior glowed.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me…” huffed Wood.

The three of them lunged off in different directions. A searing beam of red fire burst from the Warrior’s eye, scorching the ground where they had been standing mere moments ago.

“The Warrior’s Eye, as they are called,” Rayne continued. “A basic form of Pyromancy but expelled with great accuracy and effect thanks to the the Warriors’ inability to feel pain or even care about its own well-being.”

Skye hissed, fangs bared as he hovered in the air. “It’s composed entirely of ash that’s been infused with Spirit Energy. Every particle is infused with the faith of an entire civilization’s zealotry towards their volcano gods.” He cast a worried glance down towards Wood and JD. “This thing is like a walking nuclear device protected by millions of smaller other nuclear devices!”

“What do you suggest then?” Wood barked. “It’s still got to keep itself powered. Every hit, every movement and every blast of its Eye has to exhaust its reserves right? Do we just keep dodging? It’s pretty slow.”

JD shuffled beside him, slowly rising to his feet. “That would be ineffective.” The Red Lightning offered a playful grimace. “I mean, we can probably win this fight but imagine going up against two or three of them. We’d never outlast them all.” He absently kicked the ashen ground. “Damn… Should’ve asked how those commandos managed to beat the Ashland Warriors during the war.”

The war… Despite the seemingly unstoppable nature of the Ashland Warriors, somehow, the forces of Church and the Sunless Lands managed to beat back the Searanti. There had to be some way to beat them. Wood turned towards the Warrior and an idea sprang to mind.

He sprang to his feet, gripped Cataclysm in his hand and charged. Skye and JD cried out his name but he didn’t listen. Like his first strike, he swung his caustic handaxe at the Warrior from close range but unlike before, he stopped his swing midway just like how JD had tried. Like what had happened with his friend, the warrior immediately began to harden its ash around his blade. He purposefully let go and happily took the retaliatory strike that send him crashing to the ground.

“Wood!” Skye cried.

He lifted a clawed hand, indicating that he was fine. Turning his gaze towards the creature’s chest, he grinned. “Got you, fucker.”

Cataclysm remained embedded in the creature’s chest and its caustic effects were still radiating from its blade. The Ashland Warrior seemingly didn’t care even as moved towards him and constantly shed pieces of ash that were being eroded by the acid of his axe. Wood scrambled to his feet and kept his distance, watching as the Warrior completely ignored the axe buried in its chest and slowly lumbered towards him.

“They’re slow and are dumb as a pile of bricks,” he announced. “That means they aren’t smart enough to get rid of the sources of damage-over-time effects! If we can just hurl shit at it that’ll stick to its form, it’ll eventually rip itself apart trying to get rid of that shit!”

True enough, within moments, the Warrior had shrunken down to nine feet tall as its ash just kept falling off its body. The trio of students just kept backing away, keeping their distance as the Warrior gave slow pursuit. A few times, it tried to pin them with its Eye but it had a long windup and clearly telegraphed. The blast was easy to dodge.

In just under a minute the Warrior collapsed to the ground, leaving Cataclysm on the ashen shores of the Searanti island. Rayne’s applause cut through the soft rumbling of the constantly erupting volcanoes and the roar of the waves.

“And that’s exactly how the forces of the Church has been able to maintain a stronghold on the Archipelago,” the Demon Prince lectured. “The Searanti stick to their tried and true ways. Frightening as they are, they have made little in ways of technological or magical advancement in the millennia since the they were engaged by the Church. This leaves them susceptible to the same weaknesses that they always have - damage-over-time effects.”

Ashland Warriors, even the most complicated models were often unintelligent or - at most - had a primal bestial-level of cunning. While they could be inflicted with effects that would eventually eat away at their structural integrity, they would not be intelligent enough to find some place to rest or even to find some way to get rid of whatever it was that was debilitating them. They would continue to pursue their target with as much zealotry as the Searanti offered their volcano gods.

“Maintaining the effects becomes the challenge,” Rayne continued lifting a finger, “but as you can tell, their programming willingly sheds their ashen particles to try and ‘heal’ the damage. That means that even if the rate of damage you are dealing with your effects is minimal, the instant that they detect it, they will shed that ash from their bodies without a second’s hesitation. Ultimately, they are losing more from trying to end the effect.”

Skye lowered himself from the air. “I guess that makes sense. The Searanti probably tried to be smart about keeping their Warriors intact but ultimately it was to their detriment.”

“Correct. More advanced models will be a little smarter but not by much. Even small and weak effects like a subtle poison, constant burning effects or caustic saliva will be enough to cause them to start shedding their own structure in an attempt to stop it.” He nodded towards Wood. “Good job figuring that out. Ten points on top of the three you get for beating the simulation.”

Wood beamed… then frowned. “Hang on… did you say ‘more advanced models’?”

Rayne’s sadistic grin returned. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Follow the Money

“Remind me again what we’re doing?” Hunter asked, tugging at the tie wrapped around his thick neck.

Aria sat elegantly across from him in the horse-drawn carriage leading as they made their way through the Sunrise District where the Reaching Flame had their headquarters. Their hunt for FireFeather continued and though the likes of Kane, Rayne and Wood had opted to participate in the bloodsports that the Association peddled in, Aria had opted for far more traditional forms of investigation. She had outright banned the group from dancing to the Association’s tune but she knew that someone as headstrong as Kane would never follow her instructions. Authority was just something Kane did not mix with.

That said, her investigations had led her to the charity known as the Reaching Flame.

“We are going to the charity known as the Reaching Flame to offer them a sizable donation from your wins amongst the IBL,” she said calmly. “All under the guise of figuring out more about Maxwell Magmillion and his father, Maximillion Magmillion.”

Hunter shook his head, massaging his temples. “There’s to many M’s in that family.”

Aria offered a light smile as she glanced outside of the carriage. Her mind had never left the idea of something as devastating as FireFeather being in the hands of someone was wealthy and ruthless as Maxwell. It terrified her that the man had once hired Rahl and then fused the blacksmith to the entire Lost Incendian Fleet just to flee with his prize. This combined with the fact that her friend, Harm Chronos, had sacrificed the population of the entire fleet just to keep the sword trapped on the Fleet meant that it was a weapon of incredible potential.

When she and the other Godslayers had started asking around, they eventually learned that Maxwell had returned from his doomed expedition. The history of the Magmillion family was quickly unraveled. Apparently, their wealth and fortune all came from Maxwell’s ambition and charisma. Maximillion was selfish and entitled. He spent all of his son’s hard-earned fortune on himself and his various pleasures in the belief that he was too rich to ever become poor again. Of course, this was not true. Just seven years ago, Maxwell died in a fire that was deemed magical in nature and many considered a murder but others claimed was Maxwell dabbling in something experimental. There was no mention of FireFeather in the official reports.

She along with Alex and Tanar had interviewed Maximillion who had colorful words to describe his son. Despite his son having been dead for seven years, Maximillion still managed to maintain his wealth through the Association. That was when they heard about the bloody way which the Association ‘traded’ resources. Her fists tightened at the level of greed, envy and callousness for mortal life that the Association displayed. Maximillion even had the gall to try and recruit them as his latest batch of ‘gladiators’ to acquire other Association member’s assets.

Naturally, they refused.

Well… she and the majority of the Godslayers refused. Kane, Wood and Rayne likely accepted but she had no proof of that.

Nevertheless, her investigations continued.

“Maxwell Magmillion’s last attempt at an acquisition was for the Reaching Flame,” Aria explained. “They were apparently in the final stages of sealing the deal when he died in that fire.”

“You suspect foul play?” Hunter asked. “Like the owner didn’t like how Max was trying to muscle his way into the charity business and had him killed.”

Her purple eyes glanced towards him, a grim smile on her lips. “Based on what we know and the reputation of the Reaching Flame’s owner, they would never do such a thing.”

Hunter twitched his muzzle like he was trying to roll a marble between his cheeks. “Lofraine Ulbermasque,” he uttered. “Goddess… even that name sounds pretentious.”

“Now, now,” she warned, holding up a finger. “Don’t judge a man based on their name alone. From what we know, Lofraine is a public darling. He owns and personally runs countless charities all based on Incendius that has international reach. Despite all his wealth, he lives modestly. In fact, he does not have a permanent address. Apparently, he sleeps in the offices of his multiple charities. He has been known as the ‘Chaplain of Charity’.”

“So what? You think Maxwell tried to get into the charity game and then this guy, Lofraine, refused to sell? Maybe challenged him to one of the bloody fights that the Association are known for and died when he lost?”

She averted her gaze and shook her head. “Of that I am unsure. From what Maximillian told us about the rules of the Association, anyone who speaks of the Association instantly becomes a target. The general public is not meant to know about them and only those with special passes are admitted. We are in danger for having interrogated him and that’s the reason he is in protective custody.”

“Don’t remind me…” the silver Wulfun grunted, again tugging at his suit’s collar. “He also told us that the trades between ‘sponsors’ are meant to be anonymous. So unless Lofraine somehow learned about Maxwell’s identity, then the Association won’t have had him killed for failing to acquire the Reaching Flame.”

The carriage suddenly stopped rumbling. “All things we can ask Lofraine. We’re here.”

The office of the Reaching Flame was a modest dockside facility - barely three storeys tall. The smell of fish and mud was thick in the air. The Callisamdre River which was fed from the glaciers of the Gray Mountains and eventually fed into the sea offered a roaring backdrop and stunning view. It was wide enough that the ships that did drift in from the ocean were dwarfed by it’s enormity. Corona wasn’t a fishing town or a harbor town by any means but the docks in the Sunrise District were used as a major form of trade and transport to the towns on the coast. It made sense to have a headquarters here as it was a center of business.

Aria led the way into the building, mounting the stone steps and entering through the large wooden doors. Hunter was right behind her, pulling at the seat of his pants which clearly gave the big wolf a wedgie.

The interior was almost like a cathedral. Very dim lightning save for the few places that was designed to be illuminated like the alcoves where prayers could be held, the mosaics depicting various events in history and the huge portrait of their founder, a Porcinus. Hunter lifted an eyebrow as he stepped up tot he base of the enormous painting, looking up at the boar who had an impressive chest and upper body but a bit of a gut.

“So that’s Lofraine?” he asked.

“Oh no,” came a sweet voice from their left. A human woman approached, dressed in the white uniform of a member of the Reaching Flame. “That is our founder, Konseral Farflame. Mr. Ulbermasque is our current owner.” She smiled an unusually wide and unnerving grin. “How may I help you today?”

Aria coughed, indicating that it was Hunter’s time to make his proposal.

“Ah yes,” Hunter responded, putting on a clearly fake air of superiority and class. “My name is Hunter Hart. You must know my name by now.” He arched an eyebrow at her expectantly. “Currently the 10th top ranking blacksmith on Incendius? Took the IBL by storm last month?”

The blank look on the woman’s face clearly indicated that she had no idea what he was talking about. It would have been hilarious but Aria kept her laughter to herself.

“I am sorry,” apologized the aide. “I am sure you are a very important wolf. However, I must admit that I don’t follow the IBL.”

“Oh…” Hunter said, deflating. “Well… I guess it’s kind of a big deal.” Aria jabbed his ribs with a carefully placed elbow. “Listen, I’ve come across a lot of cash recently and I don’t know what to do with it. My associate here, Templar Valkyrie, suggested I donate it to charity. So…” He made circular motions with his paw. “What… exactly is the procedure to donate to the Reaching Flame?”

The aide’s eyes immediately lit up and her grin grew broader - if that was at all possible. She gestured towards one of the desks hidden in one of the many alcoves that could have easily been mistaken for a confessional booth.

“The design of your facility is fascinating,” Aria commented. “It reminds me of many of the Church’s cathedrals.”

“Oh, that’s because it was,” said the aide, seating herself down on the desk. “This used to be a a place of worship. You see, Konseral was actually a priest under Cardinal Resques before the Fall of Haven.”

That was a name that rang a lot of familiar bells in Aria’s memories.

“Resques?” Hunter asked, inclining his head.

“One of the Church officials who were considered heretical and created a splinter group after the demons were routed,” Aria replied coldly. “He and his congregation took over the lands to the northeast of Corona particularly around the glaciers that feed the Callisamdre River_._ They built a dam that prevented water from flowing into the city and demanded worship and ‘tithes’ for something basic as water. All to ‘protect their rights to believe’ they claimed.”

The aide shook her head sadly. “Indeed. It was sad and dark time. Konseral had this facility converted during the Cardinal -”

“Do not call him that,” Aria snapped sharply. “Resques was not a Cardinal. Not anymore.”

The aide nodded grimly. “Understood, Lady Valkyrie.” Sucking in some air through puckered lips, the aide started again. “Konseral had this facility converted during the Fall into a shelter. He smuggled water from Resques’ stocks and distributed it from here. He began the Reaching Flame as a means to reach out to people and provide them the help they needed. Unfortunately, when Resques found out, he was summarily executed. Thankfully this was not long before the Generals intervened.”

“Resques became increasingly paranoid and killed many of his own subordinates as the Generals began closing in,” Aria intoned darkly. “According to reports, by the time he was cornered in his mountain top cathedral, he was surrounded by corpses. Until the very end he was demanding his dead followers to get up and fight for him. A coward if ever I heard of one.”

There was an air of silence and Aria blamed herself for bringing such a dour mood to what should have been a joyous occasion shrouded in deception. Her mind went blank on how to smoothly transition back to the topic at hand. Thankfully, Hunter was there.

“Anyway,” began the silver Wulfun, “back to my donation.”

“Yes, please!” exclaimed the aid, her unusually wide smile shaking. “How much would you like to donate, Mr. Hart?”

He grinned sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck - a nervous habit of his that she had noted. More than once, she glanced over his shoulder and noted the flecks of hair that grew out of his fur that were catching on the collar of his suit. That was often the cause of his discomfort. Many times she had offered to send him to a groomer but he refused. Kane, of course, just insisted he go around shirtless.

“I was thinking a good lump of my winnings for my match against Oren,” he admitted. “I got about fifty thousand credits form my win. Then my patent for my Pyromancy Conduit went through and I’ve made about a hundred thousand out of that in this last month alone.”

Aria tried not to roll her eyes at Hunter’s ‘humble-brag’. When the numbers came in after their trip to the Lost Fleet, Hunter had almost fainted in shock. That was a lot of money. Considering how he had just made it in a month as well, it was spectacular. Roran and Sienna Frost had warned him that unless he continued to make public appearances and stay in the news or keep pumping out designs, that kind of income was a one-off burst. Still, it was larger than his salary for a year. Given that it was earned on Incendius as well, he wouldn’t have to worry about taxes. It had taken a lot of convincing for him to part with a significant part of it given that income was one the major reasons he decided to become a freelance blacksmith.

“So I’m going to have to say a hundred and twenty-five thousand credits,” Hunter concluded.

The aide beamed. “Ah! That is such a fantastic amount! You will be helping so many people!” She stood. “Please wait here a moment. I’m sure Mr. Ulbermasque will want to thank you personally.”

Exactly what Aria had been hoping. Thanks to Alex, they had learned that if Ulbermasque was in the same building as when a large donation - anything over a hundred thousand credits - was made, he would make an effort to thank his donors personally. This was why they had chosen to make this donation now and at this site. They knew Ulbermasque would be here and they knew exactly what amount they could use to attract his attention.

The aide dashed off to get Ulbermasque, finally letting Hunter relax.

“Not to be petty,” he mumbled, “but I better get that money back.”

“You will,” Aria responded. “And more. If all turns out well, we will find FireFeather and I am sure both the Church and the military will do what it can to ensure one of the heroes that averted the apocalypse will be comfortable.” She smirked at him. “Who knows? You might be able to keep making money from hero tours. Might even be able to write a book about your experiences and live off the sales.”

Hunter grimaced. “Urgh… I just want to be financially secure not one of the idle rich. I’d go insane if I didn’t have anything to do.”

How ironic that she was in the company of someone who was spoiled for choice for something to do while she struggled to keep herself busy to placate her relatives. What comments she held were cut off when a tall, Leporin of the rabbit variety stepped towards them dressed in a black, pinstriped suit and wearing a bright, yellow tie. His fur was a tawny pattern with a white, fluffy undercoat. Bright, green eyes were sharp and he kept his long ears folded back like they were a ponytail. He was well-built, his figure hidden beneath the suit but Aria could tell the man not only maintained a rigorous physical regimen but put it to good use. It was in the way he strode forward with purpose, kept his back straight with his chest forward and the veins popping in his neck like he was always ready to hold his breath and deliver a blow.

Aria and Hunter rose from their seats as Lofraine Ulbermasque approached with a paw extended.

“A pleasure to meet you both, Lady Valkyrie and Mr. Hart,” Lofraine said in a deep yet gentle voice, like the quite rumble of the ocean. “I am Lofraine Ulbermasque and I would like to personally thank you for your generous donation today.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Hunter responded, using the words they had rehearsed multiple times before this day. “I’m not exactly used to all this income so I thought I should put it to good use.”

“And it shall be,” Lofraine said with a gentle smile. “We here at the Reaching Flame endeavor to ensure that all of our generous donations are effectively managed for the maximum benefit.”

“Oh?” Aria asked kindly. “Care to go into more information?”

Lofraine smiled and gesture towards his office. “Of course. Please, follow me and I will tell you about all the good work we do here at the Reaching Flame.”

They were led to the back of the converted church. Surprisingly, Lofraine’s office was just a modest room that could have easily been a storage room. When asked what the upper floors were used for, the rabbit explained that most of the operations were done on the top two floors while administrative staff were on the first floor. That was how they had begun when Konseral first took over the church. They didn’t have a second and third floor so after the war was over, they remodeled to optimize their space and the administrative staff just remained on the first floor.

Lofraine sat at his small desk and gestured at the two seats in front of him. The walls were lined with shelves filled with ledgers and documents while the sole window behind Lofraine appeared to have once been a stained glass window but was now just made of standard glass.

“Where to begin,” the rabbit began. “Ah, do you know about our founder?”

“We are familiar,” Aria responded.

He gave her a delicate smile. “I should have known from an esteemed Templar.” Tenting his fingers, he said, “Then allow me to give you a rundown of the Reaching Flame’s recent history and our mission.”

After the Fall of Haven had officially been put to rest and Resques was arrested and sentenced, the Reaching Flame was leaderless. Many still held ill will towards the Flame despite all of Konseral’s good work. The name had been tainted. That was when Lofraine stepped in. He used his own money and good name to elevate the Reaching Flame from what it was to something more. Originally, its purpose was to provide supplies and aid to those affected by the war but, eventually, it expanded to aiding Havenese refugees find asylum on Incendius.

While the Fall of Haven had ended, Haven was still devastated in the immediate aftermath of the war. Haven’s infrastructure could not sustain a population yet and with Chrysalis having been shattered, it took a lot of magic and technology to stabilize it’s orbit around Chrysalis Core. Demons still rampaged in small packs around Geohaven as well so the Station was barely livable. Many Havenese migrated to other Stations seeking asylum and the Reaching Flame helped those that made it to Incendius settle.

“Over the decade since the war, we provided education, shelter and funds to countless people,” continued Lofraine. “In fact, many people who once relied on the Reaching Flame are now experts in immigration law for Incendius and continue to help people integrate into Incendian society. Not just from Haven either. From all over.”

He lifted a finger and beamed proudly. “In fact, we have had our greatest successes within Incendius.”

“Come again?” Aria asked, puzzled by the statement.

“Incendius is still greatly fractured,” Lofraine explained. “But we are ultimately one nation. At least to the rest of the world. In order to give that sense of unity, the Reaching Flame help people from other groups in Incendius migrate here to the Incendian Mainland. We’ve had migrants from the Sunless Lands work and live in Corona, ex-members of the Custodia Lupus take up farming nearby, nobles from the Custodia Vampiri build their mansions in townships and even refugees from the Searanti Archipelago successfully integrate into society.”

“The Searanti?” Hunter asked. “Really?”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the rabbit proudly. “It isn’t easy, mind you, but that is our mission. To have our flame reach out to everyone and provide them warmth and guidance.”

“Noble,” Aria commented with a nod. “I’m curious if you’ve ever had anyone try to take your fire for themselves.”

Lofraine cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

Aria placed her hands on her knees calmly. “Forgive me, Ulbermasque. There is a reason to my presence here whereas Hunter was the one making the donation.”

The shrewd businessman offered a slight smile. “I had wondered…”

“Hunter is currently serving as the official blacksmith to some students at Pinnacle College and I am one of the same students’ chaperone. That said, we have lives outside of our students though we must constantly think of their safety. You may have heard that I had just returned from an expedition from the Lost Fleet of Incendius.”

“Ah yes!” exclaimed Lofraine. “Such an exciting discovery. You should be commended.”

“Indeed,” she answered, waving away the praise. “The reason I was there was to investigate the cause of the spontaneous combustions that has been plaguing Incendius. Myself and many of the other parents have expressed concern that our students could be at risk of this phenomenon.”

A dark veil fell over the rabbit’s features but he didn’t say anything, prompting Aria to continue.

“My investigations led me to the Lost Incendian Fleet and there, I found that I wasn’t the first to venture into it. Do you know the name Maxwell Magmillion?”

Lofraine sighed. “I was afraid you would mention that name.” He straightened in his chair. “He was a victim of the spontaneous combustions. Died almost five years ago. Right after he came to me with a proposal.” He nodded grimly. “I see where this line of questioning is going. So allow me to provide you with what I provided the authorities and the Inquisition…” His expression darkened. “… and more.”

Lofraine explained that he had known Maxwell from before the ambitious human had gone on his ill-fated expedition to the Lost Incendian Fleet. At the time, he had no idea where Maxwell had gone and disappeared to for a year. He had assumed it was just a world tour of Tower Thirteen with minimal contact with any of his colleagues. However, when Maxwell returned, he was an incredibly changed man.

“Far more ambitious,” Lofraine said, his expression shaken. “More… hungry. He began pressuring and coercing other smaller businesses to sell to him. Mind you, he wasn’t just buying wantonly and spending his money. He was turning those businesses into huge powerhouses of industry and turning a profit nearly-instantly.” He snapped his fingers. “It was almost… uncanny. Like he was lighting a flame underneath anything that came into his possession and turning it into gold.”

The rabbit shook his head as he said that about four years after Maxwell returned, he came to Lofraine with a proposition: sell him the Reaching Flame for an enormous profit. As tempted as Lofraine was, he refused. Maxwell seemed obsessed with the purchase and pressured Lofraine for months on it until he died in a fire.

“I was asked by the Inquisition and local authorities about my connection,” Lofraine sighed. “In fact, they suspected that I killed him to stop his attempts at seizing the Reaching Flame.” The Leporin stood from his chair, towering over the two that were still seated. “Make no mistake, Lady Valkyrie. I did not kill Maxwell.”

“I never suspected you did,” Aria responded. “Though I think you understand where my thinking is.”

Lofraine cupped his chin and glanced away. “Yes… He may have been the first case of spontaneous combustion. But at the time, we never suspected that to be the case. In fact, it’s only recently - as in within the last year - that the cases were frequent enough to be attributed to spontaneous combustion. But there have naturally been people dying in fires all over Incendius.”

“What do you mean ‘naturally’?” Hunter blurted. “How is people dying in fires ‘natural’?”

“It’s the Station of the Sun and the home of Pyromancy,” Lofraine said dismissively. For a second, Aria saw his true nature. Cold. Dismissive. Uncaring if it did not directly affect him or his assets. “Children grow ambitious and dabble in fire they cannot control. Teenagers throw fireballs at one another in angry attempts at retaliation or rebellion. Even the most practiced of Pyromancers may overstep every once in a while and set themselves alight.” Then the concern entered his eyes again. “But if you’re suggesting that this ‘disease’, as it were, started with whatever Maxwell came back with from the Fleet… then this could have been spreading for half a decade.”

Aria held up her hand. “I cannot confirm nor deny this. I do not know what Maxwell returned with or what was the cause of his death. Again, it might have been a rival. I know it is not you. I just fear my speculation may be true…”

“As do I,” rumbled Lofraine, seating himself back down, a look of worry on his face. “Maxwell was changed by that expedition. I guess you could call him a wildfire that was hungry for more fuel.”

Lofraine reached for a piece of parchment and his quill, quickly scribbling down some names. Then he pushed it across the table to them.

“Here are some of my colleagues whom Maxwell either engaged or successfully purchased assets from. If what you fear is true, then it could be that they could be carriers of this disease.”

Aria scanned the names and her eyes widened. “These are…”

Lofraine nodded. “Yes. They are highly-influential people who have a hand in nearly every industry on Incendius.” He but one of his fingers in worry. “If Maxwell purchased something from them and implanted his ‘hunger’ into the very same assets… it could be the reason that these cases of spontaneous combustion have intensified over the last year. Maxwell’s death placed them in his father’s care but because of how frivolous that old man has been, he’s eventually sold them back to their original owners as a means to keep his lavished lifestyle afloat.” Lofraine pointed at the parchment. “If anyone will know about what Maxwell did, it will be them.”

Aria rose and nodded towards Lofraine. “Thank you for your assistance, Ulbermasque. This has been incredibly helpful.”

“Of course.” Lofraine reached for something behind his desk and pulled out a business card, handing it to Aria. “If you need anything else or find out something, especially if it compromises my charities, please let me know.”

“I will. Thank you again.”

With that, Aria and Hunter left the Reaching Flame. Hunter deposited the credits with the aide with much hesitation and then they were once again in their carriage, heading back to Pinnacle. In the rumbling of their transport, Aria regarded the business card and list of names intently.

“He seemed genuine to me,” offered Hunter.

“He was,” agreed Aria. “Though he hid much of his intentions.”

“Really?”

She smiled at him and turned the card to him. Then she tilted it ever so slightly. In just the right light, it was possible to see the glossy embossing of a stylized ‘A’.

The emblem of the Association.

Spicier Meatballs

Combat Simulator 14 quaked. Reserved for second years and above, the Simulator was far more heavily reinforced as it was expected that by their second year, Pinnacle students had a far greater understanding of their abilities and a wider range of skills. For Kane Fenn, this was free reign to unleash everything he had at his current sparring partner - his chaperone, Tanar.

Not that the Leomian was holding back either.

Tanar jumped back as a wave of molten lava crashed just a few feet from him. He swung his large, artificial claw through the air, flicking through the pages of Codex Infernis. Wires burst from within the pages and slithered through the air, metallic serpents lunging towards Kane. The big, black bear grinned and swung Spicy Meatball upwards through the air, conjuring a wave of lava that burst from the ground and intercepted the wires. He was moving even before the wires could burst through the makeshift wall. The bear purposefully slammed his claw-like hammer into the ground in front of him, triggering its lava generation. A column of melted rock burst from the ground, propelling him through the air where he wound up his swing. Tanar held out Flarecaster and as the two weapons collided, searing flames burst from his artificial palm while lava poured out of Kane’s hammer.

Gravity eventually pulled Kane back down to the ground where he jogged backwards and wiped his brow with the back of his free paw.

“You’re getting better with those wires,” he commented, offering the lion a grin. “They’re getting tangled though.”

“I noticed,” Tanar huffed, rubbing his chin with his enlarged claw. “The problem is that the farther away the target, the less control I have on the wires. They need to keep moving and undulating to maintain their momentum as they’re generated from the Codex Infernis but the longer it gets, the more likely it is that they’ll get tangled.”

Kane padded over to a nearby console and tapped a few commands. Two cubes of water contained in a magical prism appeared and he tossed one to Tanar who gratefully drank from it. “Maybe shift tactics, kitty cat,” he suggested. “Instead of making it a single-target restraining move, make it an area-of-effect?”

Tanar nodded in agreement. “Not a bad idea. Could work as a defensive move as well.” He nodded towards Kane. “Your lava jump needs work though. I had to move to catch you.”

The bear let out a soft laugh. As much as he hated to admit it, these sessions with Tanar were incredibly insightful. The lion’s keen, analytical mind pierced into the flaws and weaknesses of his techniques which only made him stronger. Of course, he could train with the others but he was sure Aria didn’t trust him, Rayne would always be his teacher and hold back while he couldn’t go all out with Skye, Wood or JD because they were only first years and wouldn’t be allowed up in these more advanced simulators. Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what his cousin would do if he were to go all out. Not because he was afraid JD would harm him… but rather he saw the consequences of the Red Lightning pulling out the stops. That moment when JD collapsed and seemed to have his internal organs liquefy was terrifying.

Kane swore to himself he would never let his cousin do something like that again.

“I need some form of aerial mobility,” Kane admitted. “Spicy Meatball only really generates lava effectively when it hits something. That’s its major trigger. I can generate it from the air if needed but it has no momentum. No oomph. If I can get movement in midair, I can more accurately do a Lava Slam.”

Tanar finished off his cube, the prism it was contained in immediately dissolving in his paw. “What is your magical affiliation?”

“Don’t have one,” the bear responded with a shrug. “I’m kind of a jack-of-all-trades. I can use all of the basic forms of magic. Geomancy, Pyromancy, Aeromancy, Hydromancy. You name it. I’m not as specialized or can cast the spells on a level like you or Skye but I can use them all. Nothing advanced either. No hybrid arts or no super-specialized forms.”

“In that case, you could use some burst from Pyromancy or Aeromancy to change your trajectory midair.”

Kane shrugged in agreement as he moved back across the field to face off against Tanar. “I’ll give it a try.”

A voice came from all around them. “Or you could make it like a three-punch combo with the slam being closer to the ground.”

Kane lowered his hammer. “Hunter? The fuck are you doing? Spying on us?”

“Actually…”

The simulation ended and the door to the observation deck opened. Hunter emerged, the silver Wulfun waving at them absently. “I was in the neighborhood and heard you two were up here from Wood. He said that you guys were up here nearly every day practicing with your weapons. Wanted to see how they were holding up.”

Tanar grinned and flexed Flarecaster. “They’re amazing as always, Hunter. Chaosrender was great at gathering information and copying spells into the Codex Liberalis but Flarecaster _’s_ ability to nullify Pyromancy and the Codex Infernis_ ’_ ability to develop the spells is incredible.”

Kane gave the Leomian a puzzled look. “Could it do that when we went to the Lost Fleet?”

“No. Hunter, recognizing that the source of Lifyre and that strange liquid metal magic was probably gone with Rahl’s death, modified the Codex Infernis to take what little I could glean and help me develop it further.” Tanar held up the large black and red book he was holding. “Basically, it’s a supercomputer. Every spell from it I use, it finds ways to make that spell stronger, more efficient or even creature branching paths from it. As long as it’s within the realms of Pyromancy.”

Hunter grinned brightly and shrugged. “I guess you could say that I just made it so that it could ‘gain experience’.”

Kane laughed. “Well shit. Now I’m jealous.”

The Wulfun padded up to Kane and leaned towards Spicy Meatball. “That design fit what Tanar specializes in and harmoniously ties in with his original weapon and Valor. I don’t really think it would fit for you.”

He waggled his eyebrows challengingly at Hunter. “What? Don’t think I can grow?”

“I don’t think you have any room for doubt,” replied the wolf quickly. “You’re always sure of your moves, Kane. Doesn’t matter what the consequence are. I don’t think it’ll fit with your fighting style if you’re constantly having to wonder what move to use or what spell to cast.”

Tanar shrugged at Kane. “Like you said. You know the basics of all magic but never really specialize. The shorter your repertoire, the better.”

Kane huffed and slammed Spicy Meatball into the ground, generating a small pool of lava. “Well look at you, Mr. Smarty-Mane, using fancy words like ‘repertoire’.” He glanced down at Hunter. “Doesn’t mean I ain’t feeling jealous that you worked on Tanar’s weapon and not mine. He’s not even your client!”

Hunter crouched down and regarded Spicy Meatball closely. “One of the reasons I wanted to check up on all of you. I hate to admit it, but I did learn a thing or two from Rahl and I wanted to make improvements to everyone’s weapons.” He reached out and gently ran his fingers up the haft of the hammer. “I think we need to give you some ranged capabilities and more mobility. You’re strong, Kane, but your hammers still are pretty big and can slow you down.”

Kane spread his arms wide. “That’s what I said! I need some fuckin’ mobility!”

With a nod in agreement, Hunter took out that little, blue, crystal cube of his, his Sequencer. “I’ve got some ideas. Mind if I toy around with Spicy Meatball a little?”

Kane gave his consent and stepped back while Hunter quickly set up shop in the middle of the simulator. It was fascinating watching a blacksmith at work using matter converters. Hunter opened up his Sequencer to reveal a console-like panel of crystal floating in the air. The Wulfun was then wiggling his fingers over the length of Spicy Meatball while watching the panel. Every now and then, he would tap something on the Sequencer and beams of light would burst form his fingertips and pierce the weapon. There were no outward changes but Kane trusted the brawny combat engineer. It was Hunter’s designs that had led them to victory against Rahl on the Lost Fleet. He was sure that even if Aria had convinced the soldier to impede him in some way, it would not be to weaken his weapon. Hunter took too much pride in his work.

The big bear, his hair now a vibrant grass green with yellow tips, padded over to Tanar and crossed his arms. “So Hunter has been going around improving everyone’s weapons?” he asked.

“You heard his speech on the Fleet,” chuckled the Leomian. “He’s okay with his self-doubt. It’s what makes him stronger and always makes sure he is constantly improving.” Tanar picked at an imaginary string on his cloak. “Though I think he felt bad that he made mine and Aria’s weapons last so he focused on ours first.”

Kane arched a single eyebrow. In a mocking, high-class tone laden with overly-accentuated syllables, he asked, “And what improvement did he give to our esteemed Lady Valkyrie?”

The corners of Tanar’s lips tugged upwards. “He improved Searsparrow by imbuing it with a inbuilt spell. You know how Aria surfs on Gungnir for mobility? Well, now with Searsparrow, she can generate a large fiery bird to pretty much do the same.”

That was very impressive. Comparing a man-made weapon to a divine weapon like Gungnir would be an impossible task but he commended Hunter for trying.

“Props for trying to make an artificial Valor.”

“I don’t think he’s trying to do that,” said Tanar. “That would be heretical. I think he’s taking the approach of shoring up any gaps in Aria’s fighting style that Searsparrow might be missing. Besides, it would be impossible to make an artificial Valor.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that? Bet I could do it.” Kane stuck out his tongue just to make sure that Tanar knew he was joking. The bespectacled lion rolled his eyes at him.

“Firstly,” lectured Tanar, holding up a finger if Flarecaster, “a Valor is indestructible. Nothing in this world can destroy it. Ever.”

“Except if it’s wielder fell and became a Fallen. Then it’s ‘destroyed’ and becomes a ‘Sin’.”

He got a growl for that. “Secondly, Valors grow with their wielders. Divine inspiration often comes in times of desperation or insight that allows wielders to use their Valors in different ways.”

“You mean like how Hunter already modified Flarecaster and the Codex Infernis for you?”

Tanar coughed. “Yes, well… the last point is that Valors have a secondary and tertiary state.” The lion’s expectant eyes told Kane there was an expectation of a rebuttal but when Kane didn’t say anything, Tanar continued smugly. “The default state of a Valor is its Primaris state. It’s basic state. It is activated with a certain phrase that unlocked its true potential.”

Kane frowned. “Huh… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you or Valkyrie ‘activate’ your Valors.”

There, Tanar smiled smugly. “No, you haven’t. We’ve never had a need.”

He gave Tanar a deadpan stare. “You mean when we were trapped on the Lost Fleet, jumping from ship to ship being haunted by the literal consciousness of a crazy blacksmith that tore apart his soul to make little golems wasn’t a ‘need’?”

A deadpan stare was his reply. “Are you telling me that during that fight you did everything in your power to fight off Rahl?”

There, Kane huffed and turned away. “I suppose there’s some bullshit I could’ve done.” He waved absently at Tanar. “Finish your lecture. I know you want to.”

The lion proudly continued explaining that while Valors unleashed their power during the Primaris state, when activated, these powers were heavily specialized. When Gungnir is activated, it would pierce anything and always hit an enemy’s heart no matter where Aria threw it. Apparently, it was a form of teleportation where she would just throw it, the spear would vanish and spontaneously appear inside someone’s chest, puncturing their heart. That was the true power of Gungnir.

Chaosrender and Codex Liberalis, acting as two different entities, had two different activation phrases. When activated, Chaosrender would cause a ‘dome of chaos’ around itself. Any spells cast within had a chance of ‘going wild’ and causing a completely different effect. At the moment, Tanar could push that dome to about fifteen feet from him. The Codex Liberalis would cause Tanar to enter a trance-like state where he would analyze and absorb all the information currently contained within. The lion described it as being locked in a room with one book for about a year and having all the time in the world to analyze and decrypt that book during that entire time. He would not get any new information and he wouldn’t gain any new perspectives unless he came up with it himself but he could get a lot of insight about a topic he chose as long as it was contained within the Codex while being limited to the information the Codex had captured.

Of course, there was the second stage of a Valor - Armis - or colloquially known as ‘Armor Mode’. Only Templars could achieve this state and was the defining feature that would elevate a Paladin to a Templar. In Armor Mode, a wielder’s Valor would encase them in near-indestructible armor while drastically increasing their power on all levels. It was often that their Valors would unlock greater powers as well that were only accessible while in this mode.

“And that is how you know Lady Valkyrie definitely did not unleash her full powers during our fight against Rahl,” boasted Tanar. “No Armis.”

“Yeah, yeah,” sighed Kane. “I suppose you’ve got a point.”

“That’s not even going into the fact that both she and I can unleash Optima.”

He glared at the lion. “That’s nothing to boast about,” he said bluntly.

Tanar gave him a puzzled look. “Really? I thought you of all people would be glad to unleash that kind of power or at least have it at your disposal.”

A brief flash of a smile appeared on his lips. “Firstly, nice to know I have both of you at my disposal.” Then that grin vanished. “Secondly, your fucking Optima literally sacrifices your Force and Spirit energy to the point that your Valor eats your very flesh, memories and mind to power itself for a few minutes.” Lifting his paws, he said, “I’m all up for obtaining unimaginable power but only if I get to live afterwards. That self-sacrifice bullshit is just that. Bullshit. There are better ways to beat your enemy than killing yourself.”

The Paladin inclined his head curiously at him. “I’m not sure if I should take that as you being genuinely concerned about our well-being or just a selfish outlook.”

“Go for the latter. It’s more badass.”

There was a final clang of something metallic and Hunter folded his Sequencer back into its cube. “Alright,” announced the silver Wulfun. “All done.” He bought Spicy Meatball back to Kane. “I’ve modified it so that its made out of an equally durable but lighter materials. I’ve also enchanted it with a quick-fire burst spell.” Hunter pointed at the back of the hammer just at the back of the claw-like design. “The spell will use the same mechanisms as the hammer does to generate lava so you can’t use it at the same time. But here, it will shoot out a blast of flame strong enough to give you momentum. There’s no space or enough power to add a Physics Engine so you’re pretty much going in one direction until you hit something.”

Kane moved a few steps back and hefted the hammer over his shoulder. He brought it crashing down and activated the burst spell. Almost immediately, the hammer accelerated rapidly as a blast of fire erupted from the rear of the weapon. It crashed into the ground in front of him with a resounding boom.

“Fucking sweet!” he exclaimed. “Thanks Hunter!”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Hunter turned to Tanar. “Do you know where anyone else is? I want to review their weapon designs.”

Tanar nodded. “I saw Wood and Rayne nearby. I’ll show you.” He glanced over to Kane. “I trust you’ll take the time to get used to your new utility?”

“You bet,” declared Kane and the two departed, leaving Kane alone in the Combat Simulator…

… or at least… mostly alone.

“You know he put a tracking device on your hammer,” JD said. Kane would have never sensed his cousin if not for the very faint touch of the smaller red wolf’s back against his own. Where his cousin had managed to hide in the nearly empty expanses of the Combat Simulator, he wasn’t sure and yet, there he was.

“Seriously?” Kane asked, holding up the hammer.

JD moved as quietly as a shadow, slipping out from behind Kane and gently placing the pure-white blade of Validation against the base of Spicy Meatball. With the easiest of flicks, he pulled the device that had been installed beneath the surface of the weapon. He caught it in his free paw before flicking it to Kane.

“They worked together to distract you. Tanar asked you to train with him to set up a pretense for his presence and to give Hunter a chance to modify Spicy Meatball. Even if you didn’t ask him to do it, they knew that if Tanar were to show off some of his weapons’ advancements, you’d be curious on how Hunter can improve yours.”

Kane couldn’t help but grin. It was a devious plan and it nearly worked were it not for his crimson guardian angel. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

“What will you do about it?” JD asked.

Regarding the small, circular device that almost looked like a mechanical spider, the big, black bear pocketed the device. “If they’re so keen to watch me fight in the illegal gladiatorial battles, they should’ve just asked.”

“You really should just work together on this,” suggested his cousin. “I mean, they already made leaps and bounds chasing Maxwell’s tracks. I bet you didn’t know that they met with Lofraine Ulbermasque, the current owner of the Reaching Flame charity which is currently up for bid for your fight.”

It was incredibly scary how JD could be so well informed and yet so respectful of their boundaries that he wasn’t snitching on anyone in particular. This information was incredibly important. The Association worked on a condition of anonymity. Fighters and spectators were protected by their hosts and sponsors but the moment one of those gold-masked oligarchs had their identities revealed, everything about them was free game. Sitting in that crystal cube only meant you were free from fighting for your life but everyone in that room was like a hungry wolf, itching to get their next meal.

Now that he knew who owned the Reaching Flame, he could use that to his advantage.

“That’s not all,” JD continued. “Aria and Hunter learned that Maxwell had visited and purchased multiple other companies after he came back from the Lost Fleet. Then he apparently died in a fire and those companies were sold back to their original owners.”

Kane lifted his gaze, brow furrowed. “Sold? By Maximillian?”

“Yeah. That guy is not smart with his money.”

“Sounds like it.” He frowned deeply. “But why would they buy back what was previously theirs… unless…?”

“There’s something about Maxwell that they either wanted to hide or take for themselves,” agreed JD. “When Maxwell purchased those companies, he made them even better than what they were before.” He produced a parchment scroll and handed it to Kane. “This is a list of the companies and their owners. Copied it off the list that Hunter got and did my own research. I can’t tell exactly why they were so eager to pick them back up but they pounced. Pounced hard.”

Kane studied the list. “And where does Lofraine fit into this?”

“He was the last person Maxwell tried to by a company from before he was killed.”

“Did he want to sell?”

JD shook his head. “I couldn’t tell. He claimed that he refused but there was something in the way he said it that told me he’s just lying to himself. Trying to justify a lost opportunity because of his own hesitation before Maxwell was burned alive.”

Kane folded the parchment back up and tucked it away. “Thanks for the info, JD.” He cocked his head to the side. “Does that mean you’re on my side?”

His cousin gave him a gentle but non-committal smile. “I’ve always got your back, Kane. Doesn’t mean I’ll agree with everything you do but I’ll always be there to help you out if you need it.” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “Speaking of which, you better get some rest.”

He threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. “Please. After all this, I’m fucking pumped! I can’t rest now!”

“You might want to. Rayne is about to come through that door to tell you that your fight with the Ash Prince has been set for tonight. The Prince has already eliminated all the other competitors. You’re up.”

As he finished, the door to the Combat Simulator sprung open and Rayne came rushing in. In that second when Kane glanced away at the Demon Prince, he briefly saw a flash of red lightning from the corner of his eye and immediately looked back towards his cousin. JD was gone. A glance back at Rayne and he caught the faintest flicker of crimson lightning dancing over Rayne’s shoulder.

“Kane?” asked the demonic pugilist. “You look disappointed. Expecting someone else?”

Kane laughed inwardly and shook his head. “Naw. Just made the mistake of looking away, is all.” He feigned ignorance, crossed his arms and said, “So what’s new?”

The Ash Prince's Coronation

Helioclast Coliseum once again and once again, the stands were full.

It was absolutely fascinating how people from all over Incendius could come to this one place in the shadow of Corona. From the look of the stands, even people from the Sunless Lands, members of the Custodia Lupus and Custodia Vampiri and even some Searanti renegades had somehow managed to make it to the Coliseum. Most of them were likely on some sort of official visit to Corona but had managed to sneak away to see the Ash Prince in action.

When Rayne had seen the ticket prices, he visibly balked. The Association didn’t ask for any monetary gain. No, they had enough of that. Ticket prices were obtuse and arbitrary. One family apparently got in after the father severed a finger. A man was admitted just by giving a hug. There was a woman who had a curse placed on her where she would owe the Association an entire year’s worth of hair growth.

They say demons took people’s souls for bargains but the Association was something else entirely. None of them needed such things. These requests for admission were purely to cause pain and suffering for their own delight. Sometimes he wished he was attuned to the Spirits like Skye. He was sure the Coliseum would be absolutely rife with negativity.

Part of him was glad that he could enter the Coliseum without paying a price of admission. Another was terrified that there were so many people out there willing to pay such random prices just to see other people kill each other.

“And they say demons are bad,” he told himself with a savage grin.

“Demons are predictable.”

He glanced to his left where that bald and burned master of ceremonies stood. Once again, they were in the tunnels waiting until the games were about to begin. The MC was waiting with them.

“You expect demons to be evil and they either surprise you by being not or they meet your expectations,” the MC continued. “But the Association is something else. They make their own laws. Do whatever they want. They are neither good nor bad. They are just a body of extremely wealthy people who relish in their ability to do whatever they want and snub their nose at those that would try to persecute them. At the same time they are capable of incredible acts of charity. Thy simply do whatever their hearts desire.”

Rayne looked to the stands at the thousands of people there. While nowhere near as large as the voting population of Corona, he was sure the Association deluded themselves by maintaining that the could easily pull the numbers to outvote government officials if needed. Having such a full stadium for an illegal blood sport probably only fed their egos and this inflated sense of power.

“Demons can at least be redeemed,” Rayne said. “Do you think there is any redemption for the Association?”

The MC reached up to the explosive collar around his neck. “The time when I was allowed free thought has long passed.”

On some unknown queue, the MC lifted his head and the wand that would amplify his voice. “Good luck out there,” he said. Stepping out into the arena, his booming voice echoed across the Coliseum. “Ladies, Gentlemen and everyone in between! Welcome to the final match for control of the charity known as the Reaching Flame!”

Again, the packed crowds were cheering wildly. Part of him was disappointed there was so such a high demand for bloodshed in Tower Thirteen especially after a particularly bloody war. The rest understood that the world was still recovering even after over a decade had passed since the war. Demons were still being persecuted despite the majority of them defecting to the side of the Generals. Fallen was considered unclean. The Church found it hard to escape the atrocities it had committed. Even the Generals found it hard to earn the trust of the public because they were still far too new despite all they had done. People were eager for some sort of distraction.

Something to pull their minds from the constant reminder that Tower Thirteen was not as united or as strong as it once was and that even the heroes from the war that had torn apart the world was still struggling to find their place in this new world.

“Representing the Host of this challenge and defending the Reaching Flame, the Ash Prince!

The various screens and displays showed the tall, lean Avios whose feathers were dyed gray save for the tips which were left to its natural bright red. The shape of his beak suggested he was of the crow variety as did the slight plume of hair sprouting from the middle of he head. He wore traditional priestly vestments of the Searanti - obsidian jewelery and a loincloth decorated by copper and black stone. No weapons were visible on his person though that was not the same for his two bodyguards.

According to the rules of the Association, the Host and their champion were allowed to send as many people they wanted out into the field to meet their challengers. Rayne considered himself lucky that he had to only face off against three fighters. As confident as he was in his own fighting skills, he had observed the previous fights. When there were no rules, it became increasing difficult to judge an enemy’s strength. One group had to face off against ten of the Ash Prince’s troops. The Prince didn’t have to move at all and his lackeys tore the group of three apart.

With only a three-man team, Rayne wasn’t sure if the Ash Prince and their Host was looking to make a spectacle of them or just itching to end this quickly.

“And challenging them,” boomed the MC, “the Iconoclasts!”

Rayne stormed forward, head held high while Wood and Kane were right behind him. The cheers they got were just as loud as when the Ash prince was announced but it was cheers for their blood not their success. As a Demon, he could sense their bloodlust. This arena was rife with it. Fear from those that had fought and lost seeped into the very sands beneath their feet. Anger, frustration, desire and maybe a little bit of insanity hung in the air like a miasma. He took a deep breath, inhaling all this negativity and letting it fill his veins. Skye would have seen it as him devouring some of the nascent Spirits hanging in the air. To him, it was just fueling his powers.

“As always, the rules,” the MC shouted. Then he threw his arms into the air. “There are no rules!”

The crowd erupted into a near-frenzy.

“Begin!”

The MC turned and quickly scrambled out of the way while the Ash Prince’s two bodyguards advanced - two burly Avios dressed much like the Ash Prince only they wielded two, large bladed clubs. Very traditional Searanti. Mostly made of blackwood with red paint up and down its length using Searanti runes. They shouted orders at one another and spoke in the universal tongue which suggested that they were just hired goons made to dress like the Ash Prince’s retainers.

Rayne had suspected that was the case when watching the other fights. Now he was sure.

“Stick together,” he commanded. “I’ve been watching the Ash Prince’s fights and -”

There was suddenly a blur of movement and Kane was barging past him. “Get fucked up!”

Rayne wasn’t sure why he was surprised. This was Kane Fenn, after all. The moment anyone told him to do something, he immediately did the opposite. The big, black bear charged at the two retainers who immediately took up position, clubs crossed to protect their prince. For his part, the Ash Prince narrowed his crimson eyes and remained still, watching Kane recklessly barrel towards him. Kane swung Spicy Meatball, slamming the magma-spewing hammer against the nearest ‘Searanti’. The impact was powerful enough that a shockwave erupted out from them, disturbing the thick sands beneath their feat. Kane flashed the retainer a mocking kiss before there was a sudden burst of fire and magma from the base of Spice Meatball. The hammer launched into the air, carrying Kane with it and propelling him over the wall of heavily muscled, feathered bodies and straight in the Ash Prince’s path.

“That’s new,” Wood commented. “Hunter has been working hard.”

That did make Rayne wonder. Hunter had been on Aria’s side when the Godslayers had made their vote on what approach to take with the Association. Modifying Kane’s weapon seemed counterproductive to that stance. He dismissed the thought for the moment.

“This is our chance!” he barked, charging forward. “Keep them off Kane!”

He threw a punch, Burnicade flaring up with bursts of fire as he did so. The stunned retainer was fast despite his size and lifted his club to block. Rayne’s fists impacted with the wood. The runes glowed, keeping it from immediately shattering against the might of a demonic impact. A quick glance at the runes revealed them to be basic reinforcement enchantments but given the length of the club - it was a two handed weapon - and the amount of runes on it, even something so basic could stand up against Rayne’s might.

The retainer snarled at him and pushed him back before making a wild swing with the club. Rayne danced backwards, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he put as much distance between himself and his opponent as possible. He slammed his knuckles together, generating as much energy as possible while analyzing the retainer. A glance to his left showed Wood was being his normal aggressive self, ignoring defenses as always and launching into a flurry of swings with Cindarc and Cataclysm. That seemed to work as the Avios he was against was finding it incredibly difficult to maintain his defenses against the furious draconic berserker.

Beyond the guards, Kane was toying with the Ash Prince. The big bear launched himself into the air and came slamming back down with Spicy Meatball, unleashing geysers of lava that erupted from beneath the Prince’s feet. The cold Avios weaved away from the attacks and made his own swipes at Kane, swinging a staff topped with the skull of some unknown bird. Torrents of gray ash erupted from the barrel that the Prince had over his shoulders and followed his swipes. Kane casually danced around the strikes before making his own.

The crowd absolutely adored the back-and-forth.

“Better give them a show then,” he growled. The Demon Prince launched himself forward, zooming across the arena and immediately slamming his fists against the retainer’s club. He made a point of making sure his armored knuckles struck the wood even as the enchantments kept the weapon from breaking, that was not his goal. Each impact built energy in Burnicade and with enough stockpiled…

He roared, slamming his right fist into the club, leaving his footing nice and loose. The impact of the blow threw back the retainer a few feet but for him, he was launched high into the air. Rayne grinned to himself and slammed both his knuckles together one more time. Black ash burst from the fiery aura surrounding him and coalesced into a shadowy figure that mirrored his own.

The crowd gasped as both he and his ashen clone landed.

“The fuck!?” exclaimed the retainer he was against. “Are you a fucking Searanti too!?”

Rayne grinned. “Nope. I just have a very good blacksmith backing me up.”

Without further fanfare, both he and his clone launched forward, quickly sandwiching the guard between them. They closed in, launching punches in a dizzying flurry. The retainer tried to block on one side only to instantly be punished for it by the other. Rayne struck the retainer’s obliques and then his clone kicked the man’s knee, forcing him to topple. They struck a shoulder each, forcing the Avios to spin around as he fell. The clone unleashed a kick that sent the man rising up about five feet into the air. Rayne clasped both his hands over his head and delivered an overhead slam that send the retainer crashing to the ground and bouncing upwards another two feet.

Wood’s triumphant roar sent the crowd into a screaming frenzy. The Draconis had triumphed over his foe. Kane glanced lazily at them and gave them a brief salute before turning to his foe.

“What now, Your Highness?” taunted the bear. “It’s three against one.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Rayne rumbled, lifting his fists up.

The Ash Prince was clearly unperturbed as he slowly strode backwards and arched his neck to see the state of his guards. The crow’s cold, gray eyes regarded Kane with an exasperated stare before lifting his free hand… at his guards. The screams of the men immediately caught Rayne’s attention. The runes allover their feathered bodies burned like lava and the men writhed and squirmed on the ground.

“What the fuck!?” Wood cried, watching as the feathers blackened and their flesh began to burn. “What’s he doing!?”

Terror, defeat and helplessness emanated from the burning guards. Rayne’s could only watch helplessly as the curse consumed their bodies, took these emotions and suffused it into the very ash that were generated from their bodies. “He’s… sacrificing them.”

Two clouds of ash flooded towards the Ash Prince. More ash was produced from the barrel over his shoulder, fusing with the two clouds and quickly forming the familiar figure of two Ashland Warriors complete with the burning, central eye on its head.

“Now we’re getting serious!” Kane bellowed, a manic grin on his face. “It’s just starting to get fucking fun!” He charged, flames exploding from the back of his hammer and propelling him faster and further towards his foe. The bear swung Spicy Meatball at the Ash Prince just as a similar cloud of ash somehow solidified in front of the Prince and blocked the attack. The ash quickly shifted and transformed into sharp blades that launched forward.

“Kane!” Rayne shouted.

Even with about a dozen spikes the size of an arm piercing him, Kane just kept grinning. Through whatever pain he suffered, the bear flexed his muscles and broke the ashen spikes. A soothing, greenish-white aura surrounded him as Kane cast some basic healing spells to close the wounds. Even as he was healing, he kept up the attack, swinging Spicy Meatball and launching waves of lava at the Ash Prince. There was a flicker of surprise on the Prince’s eyes. Anyone would have been surprised at the bear’s resilience. The audience absolutely loved it as well.

Rayne turned his attention to the Ashland Warriors in front of him. As with the training simulation, they advanced slowly, their glowing red eyes burning like a star’s heart. He and his ash clone charged. The Warrior in front of him unleashed a beam from its eye and the two quickly split up, one sliding underneath the beam while the other scrambling to the right. Wood charged as well and quickly leapt into the air, spreading his wings and using his superior aerial mobility to his advantage. The second Warrior tried to keep track of Wood and unleash another beam but the Green Draconic was faster in the air than on the ground. Rayne used that to his advantage as he charged at Wood’s Warrior and quickly unleashed a series of punches up its body while its gaze was still up in the air. His clone engaged the first Warrior, forcing it to turn towards the Rayne.

He launched aside just as the first Warrior’s eye-laser erupted from its face. The beam collided with the second Warrior - the one aiming at Wood - piercing the ashen body. Wood then came crashing down, slamming both his axes into the side of the first Warrior and cleaving right through the creature’s glowing eye.

The crowd went wild.

“Those training sessions really paid off,” Wood panted.

“Remind me to get you more points when we get back,” Rayne agreed.

There was a flash of agitation in the Ash Prince’s eyes. His features were still surprisingly still even as he started making wide, sweeping gestures with his staff. The ash from the Warriors streamed towards him and slid beneath his feet. He was carried off in the currents of the ashen flood, zooming off into the air.

“Get back here you bastard!” roared Kane. Wood got ready to leap after him when spikes of ash began forming in front of the Prince.

“Shit!” Rayne shouted, immediately tackling Wood back to the ground. The spikes launched with the speed of a machine gun, slamming into the ground around them. Wood roared in agony as a few tore through his wings, staining the sand with his blood. Rayne forced his wings closed to make sure that he had as small a profile as possible.

Grey ash suddenly started sweeping in from all around the, kicking up a storm that blocked their vision of the Ash Prince and the audience while keeping them in a bubble unaffected by the storm. Kane stumbled through the barrier of storm, immediately kneeling beside Wood and casting his healing spell. It was still a very basic form of healing, though, so it was slow.

Bullets of ash came bursting in from around them, slamming into Kane’s back and interrupting his casting.

“Fuck!” growled the bear. He lifted Spicy Meatball and slammed it into the ground. A dome of lava surged around them, rapidly cooling against the swirling storm of ash. It buckled against the bullets of ash. One bullet immediately made it through, sending obsidian slamming into the side of Rayne’s head.

“How the fuck did he generate so much ash!?” barked Wood, waving off Kane’s help. His wings still had holes in them but at least they had stopped bleeding. “No way he could’ve kept all that shit in that one barrel over his shoulder.”

Kane snarled. “It’s that fucker Lofraine. Bet he’s rigged this against us. Wouldn’t be surprised. Probably would want to do everything he can to not lose his shit over this match.”

Rayne grimaced as another part of the wall around them shattered and broke. “Well, what’s the plan, Kane? How do we break through this and beat the shit out of His Highness?”

There was a glimmer in Kane’s eyes. “Remember how we beat his storm in the qualifiers?”

Rayne grinned. “Love your thinking.”

“On three?” Wood suggested, holding out his hand. Kane and Rayne placed theirs on top of his. “One.”

“Two…” agreed Rayne.

Kane grinned. “Th -”

There was a sudden sound of shattering glass and the storm abruptly subsided. The trio looked up and much to their surprise, their was a body hurtling towards them from above. On instinct, Rayne jumped over Kane’s barrier and stretched out his arms, lunging from the falling body.

The crowd gasped at the interruption and there was a suddenly lull of silence as time seemed to slow. Rayne moved right beneath the shadow of the falling body, arms outstretched and -

Thump!

Caught the well-dressed man… a rabbit.

A short distance away, a golden rabbit mask landed.

Rayne’s eyes widened. “Lofraine Ulbermasque…”

Concealed in Charity

Frankly, JD was surprised that Lofraine had waited until the Ash Prince’s retainers had fallen before even considering using one of the many gadgets that he had implemented in the arena to tip the tide. The Association considered itself above the law, after all, so it was unsurprising that their matches were rigged. Lofraine must have been confident in the Ash Prince’s abilities up until the Searanti began surfing on ash and peppering Kane with bullets from a distance. Or perhaps that was a signal that he needed help. The Red Lightning couldn’t really tell.

What he could tell, however, was that if he didn’t act, Kane and the others would be killed. He had already seen it. Kane would try to block the storm with walls of lava again and Wood would follow up with a torrent of green flame that he would hope to knock the Prince off his perch before Rayne finished him off. What none of them anticipated was that the Ash Prince was generating a third construct with all the ash around him. Their blockade of the storm would only reveal the incomplete golem. The precious few seconds of surprise would be their undoing as Wood would receive several bullets to the stomach. Kane, distracted and trying to save his friend, would be picked up by the golem and crushed. Rayne would try to go after the Prince only for the storm to break through Kane’s lava barrier and rip him to shreds.

So JD had to act.

The two Association guards perched in front of the door to the Host’s Skybox never saw him coming. The one on the right shifted his weight ever so slightly and in that instant, JD activated Shukuchi and was immediately behind him. He pressed two fingers against the man’s neck. Red lightning erupted from the contact, disabling the man’s motor skills and sending him crumbling to the ground. The second turned and JD was immediately behind him, gripping the base of his neck. Another shock of pure Force Energy through his system and the second guard was on the ground. JD swiped his keycard before he toppled in front of his colleague.

He swiped the card against the reader and the door hissed open.

Lofraine Ulbermasque was seated on a large armchair in his own private viewing level separate from his golden-masked colleagues. The rabbit was watching the fight below and distracted by the fight that he never noticed JD quietly glide over to him. The rabbit flinched when JD leaned over his shoulder. One paw went over to the console and he began typing some random assortment of numbers. When it flashed red, he stepped back into the Machine to just that moment when he first reached for the console; just a few seconds.

Once he was there, it was like he had never entered the incorrect sequence. Lofraine was still looking at him with a shocked expression as he once again tried another combination.

Wrong again.

Another step back and another attempt. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He just kept trying over and over again. Brute forcing a password was not the best way to go through this but he had very little information on Lofraine as it stood but all the time in the world. He lost count on how long he had been there but eventually, the password flashed green at him.

Lofraine watched in horror as JD quickly set to work disabling the storm.

Before he could finish, the charity owner was leaping to his feet and leveling a paw at him. Golden dust gathered at his fingertips forming a wicked-looking scimitar. “Who are you and how do you know my password!?”

JD straightened and turned to leave, a little smile on his face.

“I’m just leveling the playing field,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t really fair, you know.”

Lofraine’s face twisted into a scowl. “Fuck you!” A golden bullet of sand shot from his paw and tore right through JD’s left lung. The Red Lightning silently cursed and stepped back to that moment when he typed in the correct password.

Again, Lofraine was leaping up to his feed as the ash storm died.

“Who are you and how do you know my password!?” demanded the rabbit again.

It was time for a different tact. “Just a fan of a fair fight,” he replied. “But this was never meant to be fair, was it?”

That golden bullet of sand shot forward and JD dodged to the right, avoiding the strike. The second bullet he didn’t see coming and it pierced his forehead. He stumbled onto the golden gears of the Machine, having died again.

“You died,” Haamiah said bluntly.

“I guess I’ll just have to dodge his bullets,” JD grumbled, rising to his feet and preparing to once again emerge into Tower Thirteen.

“You cannot convince him to lay down his arms,” warned the God of Time. “Not as the timeline is now. Unless you are willing to go back a few days to when Aria Valkyrie first spoke to him and uttered a few select words to him, he will only meet you with hostility.”

The red wolf sighed heavily and crossed his arms behind his head. “And we both know that I can’t go back more than ten minutes or I’ll rip my body to shreds.” He rolled his shoulders. “Okay, different tactic then.”

He emerged from the Machine and typed in the code, disabling the storm as Lofraine demanded his identity once more.

“Who are you and how do you know my password!?”

Only this time, in that one movement, JD immediately closed in and grabbed the golden mask of the businessman, tearing it from his face in a quick instant. His other paw was pressed against Lofraine’s chest before the businessman could lift his own to attack JD with his sand bullet.

“I’m really sorry it came to this,” he said.

Lofraine lunged to the left, towards an emergency button that would have called more guards. JD immediately pushed the man forward, red lightning arcing from his paw. Time slowed as he slammed Lofraine against the glass of the skybox. Crimson arcs of electricity bolted out from the impact side, shattering the glass and shocking Lofraine. JD let go of the corrupt businessman, pushing him just far enough that it was impossible to catch himself on the edge of the skybox.

Below him, Rayne was bolting to catch Lofraine…

… but he had launched the rabbit too far away. He grimaced as Lofraine’s body crashed into the stands, a mangled mess of blood, bones and organs.

“I… I think we needed him alive,” JD commented to himself. “Oops.”

So he stepped back into the Machine and performed the same dance again. This time, as he pressed his paw against Lofraine, he created another ‘save state’. He adjusted the amount of force in his blow. Again, the glass shattered but this time, he applied significantly less power. Lofraine fell through the glass and managed to catch himself on the edge of the skybox… only for glass shards to fall on him. One particularly large once stabbed him through the left eye.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Okay. So a little more force,” JD said to himself and for the second time, attempted a third push. Somewhere in between.

Once again, Lofraine was hurled through the glass but this time, he couldn’t catch himself on the edge of the skybox. He plummeted to the ground with Rayne bolting to catch him. Only Rayne didn’t quite make it and the rabbit slammed into the ground, his organs crushed by the impact but still somehow alive… for about the next ten minutes. Considering they were far from any medical facilities, that was not good enough.

“One more time. I got this.”

For the third time, JD hurled Lofraine out of the Skybox and this time, Rayne managed to catch him. He pumped a fist subtly through the air and then tossed the golden mask near the two. All the cameras fell to that mask and what it would mean.

The silence over Helioclast Colosseum only lasted for about ten seconds before the crowd began murmuring amongst themselves. JD was already down the hall and making his way out of the skybox, taking the lift up to the upper levels of the arena from the skybox. As he did so, another of the golden-masked Association members had stepped up to the edge of the skybox - the version beneath the host’s special deck. The screens on the lift showed the man lifting a device to his obscured lips, a microphone of sorts.

“I’m afraid we have a rather… unusual scenario here,” declared the man, a badger at least based on his mask. “It seems that the identity of our Host has been revealed. Lofraine Ulbermasque.”

One would think that because Lofraine officially owned the Reaching Flame out in the markets, it would be obvious that he was the Host of the games and the sponsor of the Ash Prince. However, that was not always the case. From what JD had discovered, the Association often kept proxies and connections to one another secretly. A sponsor could own a company but it’s CEO would be someone else in the Association. Mergers and acquisitions done through the Association could ruin a member if they did not own something so enough losses could see someone drop from the golden masks. It was entirely conceivable for an ‘owner’ officially in the wider world could just be a puppet controlled by the Association and the true owner was someone obscure hidden off in some corner of the world. Little wonder that Lofraine was keeping hold of the Reaching Flame so tightly as it was one of the companies he owned both in the open and in the Association’s ledgers.

There was another silence that fell over the coliseum but this time, it was not one of stunned quiet but of barely concealed greed and menace; the lull before a predator pounced on its hapless and unaware prey.

“As you well know, we here at the Association have the Rule of Anonymity,” the badger continued. “Anyone who steps through those gates and pays the fee is free from persecution from dealings in the outside world. You leave your identity behind and become a celebrant in these games.”

The man gestured at his golden mask. “We Sponsors and Hosts, however, are not subject to such rules for one simple fact.” He held up a finger. “When our identities are discovered, many would covet what we have. They say absolute power corrupts absolutely and we acknowledge that here. Even celebrate it.” Sweeping his free paw towards the crowd, the badger said, “You all have a rare honor here. You have witnessed the unmasking of a Host.”

“No!” Lofraine screamed. “You cannot do this! I was assassinated! Attacked!”

“All is fair in these games of blood, sweat and tears,” answered the badger. “With the identity of the Host revealed, the games have changed.” The man pointed at Lofraine just as JD got off the lift.

The red wolf quickly dashed down the hallways, sweeping past stunned maintenance crew and some guards that were clutching their weapons at the ready. Those who knew what was about to happen was already rushing down to the arena, completely ignoring him. To his credit, the badger paused for dramatic effect and by the time he started again, JD was jumping the turn styles of the coliseum and heading towards the train station.

“By my decree, all of Lofraine Ulbermasque _’s assets are now up for grabs! Bring me a tuft of his fur and receive a percentage of his assets! Bring me his heart and become the owner of the_ Reaching Flame! Bring me his head and you shall be the master of the Ash Prince! That is not to say you cannot kill him yourself, Your Highness!_ ”_

The badger laughed just as JD pressed the button to call the train.

“Go! Tear our illustrious Host apart!”

All at once, the crowd erupted into a roar of movement. JD glanced over his shoulder, watching the coliseum anxiously. Rayne would know that they needed Lofraine alive to tell them all about FireFeather so he wouldn’t let Wood or Kane do something stupid as tear the rabbit apart himself. True to his hopes, just a few minutes after the train arrived, he saw Rayne emerging from the coliseum, Wood and Kane right behind him. Lofraine was unconscious in Wood’s arms while Kane was slamming Spicy Meatball behind him, leaving a trail of lava that slowed down the mob.

JD quickly made himself scarce, ducking into the train’s last carriage. Rayne jumped into the vehicle and hit the doors to shut. Kane barely made it in before the train started moving, taking them to safety. The crowd threw spells at the train, peppering the side of the vehicle but to little effect. They were too far for the spells to do much damage.

Of course it wasn’t over.

Coils of gray ash slammed into the train and smashed the windows in. JD rushed from carriage to carriage as the ash consumed the metal, somehow ripping it to shreds as it did so. He quickly realized his mistake - he was too far to execute Shukuchi. Pain ripped through his body as the ash tore the flesh from his bones…

… and he slammed face first into the cogs of the Machine.

“Damnit,” he muttered, slamming a fist into the cog in frustration. He got up and stared at the cogs in front of him. His features dropped when he noticed where the images would have him spawn…

… at that moment when he would have typed in the password on Lofraine’s console.

He slapped his forehead.

“You forgot to save,” began Haamiah.

“Yes, thank you,” he growled, frustration dripping from his lips. He crossed his arms and sighed. “A blessing in disguise, I guess. I’m going to have to see what I can do about the Ash Prince.”

So once again, JD went through the same routine. He typed in the password, stunning Lofraine before throwing the rabbit out of the skybox glass followed by his mask. Then he was bolting through the facility once more and calling the train so that it would arrive for Kane and the others. That was when he took a deep breath and ‘saved’ his place in the Machine.

He turned and instead of jumping into the rear carriage, he stepped on top of the train. Pressing his body down, he kept as low a profile as possible to make sure no one would spot him. There was Rayne leading the pack while Wood carried Lofraine and Kane kept the mob back with a trail of lava. That was when he saw him. The Ash Prince shot out of the coliseum, surfing on a tide of gray ash that carried him to the train. The Prince went for the rear carriage which was why JD hadn’t had time to catch him. As the train began moving, the Prince landed atop the rear carriage.

With JD in the middle of the train, it wasn’t an ideal place to fight.

So he reset the timeline, stepping into the Machine and, this time, stepping out into Tower Thirteen once more from where he had last marked his place in time. The train just arrived and he jumped onto the top of the rear carriage, ready to meet the Ash Prince when he arrived. Shortly afterwards, the train was moving with its four passengers and the Ash Prince landed in front of him.

The Avios parrot regarded him with smoldering red eyes, not a word said.

JD just waved absently, a cheery smile on his muzzle. “Hi.”

Spikes of ash suddenly burst from behind the Prince, shooting towards JD like ballista bolts. The Red Lightning barely had time to reach over his shoulder and draw the two blades of Conflagration and to leap and spin through the air to avoid being struck. The train beneath him was still moving and with the Prince still standing in one place, the Searanti was brought straight towards him. JD’s bare paws slammed into the Prince’s chest, sending the bird flying backwards and into the dark tunnels behind him.

He landed just in time to prevent himself from being flung after the Prince, the blade of Conflagration buried into the roof of the train for extra support. Knowing how these things played out, he jumped to his feet and darted towards the train. As expected, there was a rush of ash behind him as the Prince recovered and gave chase. He just made it to the next carriage over before the Prince’s ash came crashing down on the train like a big, gray claw. Somehow, the spirit-infused ash tore through the last carriage like it was paper. JD swung Conflagration through the air before unleashing two slashes through the air. Arcs of crimson fire shot forward, biting into the ash and momentarily pushing it back.

Through the gray haze, he could barely make out the Prince. There was desperation in those eyes. The Prince screamed - or at least tried as no sound came out of his beak - and the ash shot forward. Gray spikes buried themselves into the train, pulling it back and slowing its progress. JD lunged for the ash spears, swiping at them with Conflagration only for the ash to immediately recover a second later.

Now he wished he had brought Validation with him. With it, he could sever the magical connections the Prince had to his ash. Then again, that would mean he’d have to sever that control from each individual fleck which probably wouldn’t have been a smart use of his time.

“Better idea,” he told himself. JD scrambled back up to the next carriage, somersaulting over the gap between the carriages. As he did so, he swung his blades, sending a spreading circle of sharp flames outwards. The fire bit into the coupling between the carriages, severing them. The train itself began peeling away just as JD landed on it. He swung his swords through the air, building momentum and invoking a spell. Then he slammed the two blades together, pointing at the severed carriage. A large ball of flame erupted from the tips of the swords, slamming into the compartment and setting it ablaze while simultaneously pushing it back right into the Prince. Strangely, the ball didn’t explode. It seemed content to just push the carriage back into the writhing mass of the Prince’s ash.

As expected, the Ash Prince moved around the flaming ball and compartment…

BOOM!

The fireball erupted, taking the carriage with it and causing the ash to dissipate momentarily as the Ash Prince’s assault was disrupted.

“I always wondered why anyone would want to delay a fireball blast,” JD told himself. “Now I see the merit.”

The ash lashed and writhed, an gray octopus raging in the tunnels.

“Oh damn…” He turned and bolted back the train just as those ashen tentacles slammed into carriage beneath his feet and began ripping it to shreds. The train was pulled back again, slowing its advance. Bullets of compact ash blasted at him, streaking past his shoulder and peppering at his feet. JD slipped between the carriages and ducked into the next one just to avoid being shredded. Blood soaked into his shirt but he ignored it and dashed past the rows of chairs.

He burst out into the coupling between the carriages and looked down at the tenuous links. An idea formed in his mind and a grin across his muzzle. With a swing if Conflagration he slashed at the coupling, once again severing it from the rest of the train. Again like before, he executed the Remote Trigger Fireball spell, letting it slam into the carriage and start pushing it back towards the Ash Prince. Only this time, he was inside the same carriage that the fireball was pushing back.

As the train caught fire, he stepped back and stared at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. He waited a ten seconds… then swung his swords upwards in an arch, tearing a hole right into the roof. From the downward swipe of his blades, flames burst from the tips of his sword and propelled him upwards… about twenty feet in front of the Ash Prince. The Prince - as expected - had made to dodge the carriage, fully expecting it and the fireball to explode once it got close enough. He had pushed himself as far up against the ceiling as possible while protecting himself with the ash around him. When he saw JD emerge, his red eyes widened in surprise.

Not good enough.

He reset the timeline and again, he was waiting. He only waited eight seconds this time and when he emerged from the train, he was only about eight feet away from the Prince.

Still not good enough.

One more reset.

Seven seconds this time.

He tore through the ceiling and immediately, the effect was seen. The ash around the carriage dissipated as fiery arcs of melted metal slammed into the Ash Prince’s shields and JD slammed into the Avios. The Prince looked down, his eyes having been focused on the fireball and not right beneath him. JD plunged Conflagration into the Prince’s chest, the two blades piercing both lungs.

The ash suspending the Association goon dissipated and they both slammed into the train. JD quickly used their momentum to hurl them both off the train and just behind the raging fireball.

That’s when he activated the spell.

BOOM!

The fireball erupted, sending out a shockwave that slammed into both of them. JD, however, had positioned himself behind the Prince so when the fire, shrapnel and blast of compressed air hit them, it hit the Prince first. The impact actually pushed the Prince up to the hilt of his swords. The blast propelled them both back after the main body of the train. The Ash Prince screamed; no sound coming from his beak. For a second, JD could only feel pity for the man who likely had been enslaved by Lofraine. Then he pushed his feet against the Prince’s chest. Twin blasts of concentrated, blue flames burst from Conflagration, peeling him away from the Prince and burning the Avios from the inside. He kicked off the Prince, letting the momentum of his blades and the blades carry him after the train.

He caught the rear carriage’s railings and sheathed his swords.

Sighing to himself, he turned back as the last vestiges of the Prince was consumed by the flames of the exploding train.

Now it was over.

JD sntered the train…

… only to find himself being met with the accusatory gaze of a Demon Prince, a draconic Fallen and his cousin.

Just like when he had met the Ash Prince for the first time, he offered a cheery grin and a wave.

“Hi.”