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Paladins of Stone and Steel

Vengeance

Sveltholm was only five hours away from Shimmersea, sitting southeast of the coastal town. With the skies over Incendius being mostly free of flying machinery, Hunter stretched from where he sat in the pilot’s seat and switched on the auto-pilot.

“I’ll be taking a break,” he announced over his shoulder at Alex and Tanar who were manning two other stations on the ship. He considering them ‘manning’ the stations even though they were really just seated at the consoles and doing their own thing. They could gain access to the ship’s systems if needed. Alex was writing a report over to the Pinnacle staff just to make sure they knew what was going on with the four students and Tanar was helping Serena with searching for Artem Ford - the only Paladin whom they currently had no lead.

That last one worried Hunter. From Melody’s statement, Ford was the first of the kidnapped four Paladins to be isolated from the rest. Yet the others were the ones that had been found first. That suggested that either Ford had escaped or was still in Char’s captivity and was somehow resisting falling.

“Take your time,” Alex said, tapping away at his console. “We’re still… what? An hour and a half from landing?”

“Something like that,” Hunter answered. “I’m going to need some coffee. If we’re going to hit the ground fighting, I want to be ready. Either of you want one?”

“Not right now, but thanks.”

Tanar waved him away dismissively, far too engrossed with his research. Hunter chose not to take that personally and stepped out of the bridge. The conference room had the four students currently sitting in on a lecture provided by one of the professors back at Pinnacle. From the snippet that he got, it was on the intricacies of Pyromancy.

“Nova Supremis,” the holographic deer mentioned. This was a prerecorded lecture so none of the four Pinnacle students could ask a question. “The single most powerful spell in all of Pyromancy and the greatest achievement any single Pyromancer can obtain. Simply casting it is a feat unto itself as it creates an artificial sun. Most Pyromancers can only conjure a small version of it no bigger than a thumbnail and only have it last a few seconds. To conjure one of significance, most Pyromancers need to collaborate with one another.”

Someone asked a question off screen and the deer nodded.

“Correct. The exception is the current Apex Clericus Solis Tynvandar. He is capable of casting multiple instances of Nova Supremis with each being about as big as a starship. How this is, no one is sure but he has been considered a prodigy with Pyromancy since he was young.”

Hunter passed the conference room as quietly as he could though he caught JD’s gaze and the Red Lightning gave him a little wave before passing. Skye caught the gesture and nudged the young wolf to pay attention to which JD immediately snapped back to the lecture. Hunter chuckled to himself as he entered the mess hall.

A savory smell wafted down from the kitchen, drawing him in. Accompanied by his need for caffeine, he found Rayne at the stove tops while Cassius Solinium - refreshingly in something other than his Templar uniform - was chopping vegetables.

“What are you two cooking?” he asked, heading towards the coffee dispenser. Solinium gave him a sour look the moment he approached the large, blocky machine.

“Something better than the swill that thing produces,” answered the lion, waving a sharp knife in his direction.

It had been a point of contention the moment Solinium had come aboard the Godslayer II. The coffee machine. So much so that after they finished up in Shimmersea, he went out of his way to buy a pour-over style variant, his own grinder and several bags of different coffee beans that he claims he can grind for himself. Hunter’s coffee dispenser was an automated technological marvel that had an inbuilt limited AI that could use its specialized matter converters to create custom blends on the fly. He could infuse any flavor into his grounds from fruity blueberries, strawberries or even watermelon to savory notes. Not to mention it was instantaneous and didn’t need to go through the process of waiting for water to filter through coffee grounds.

To prove his point, he pressed a few buttons on the machine and after a few seconds, the aroma of lemon and honey filled the kitchen mixed with the usual blend of lightly roasted coffee. He picked up his cup - the big blue one that was marked with the words ‘#1 Engineer’ - and let the machine pour his brew into it.

“You know, just because the dispenser produces coffee without actually using any coffee grounds, it doesn’t mean that it’s anyway inferior to your purist and primitive methods of producing coffee.”

Solinium’s hackles rose and Rayne had to step in, waving a wooden spoon between them to stop any further escalations.

“Stop,” growled the Demon Prince. “We’re not doing this again.” Rayne waved the spoon in Hunter’s direction. “Stop antagonizing him. Everyone has their preferences of coffee.”

“Comes from the guy that doesn’t drink coffee at all…”

“We didn’t have coffee in the void. I never developed a taste for it.” Rayne turned back whatever he was cooking. “Besides, you can help break up our argument.”

Hunter lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip from his brew. “Yeah? What were you two arguing about?”

“The prophecy,” answered Solinium. “I hadn’t realized that you had heard it first before Char recited it. ‘The fires of destruction were doused but remained smoldering as embers. Echoes of sins gone by will fuel its resurrection. Fiery blood ignites for those who bask in the sun. Their sacrifice, spilled blood and screams of agony ignites the flames and awakens the sleeping phoenix. The name of flame tainted. Husks of an ancient era burned and smelted into a cage of armor and puppetry. The sun closes its eyes as the Flame is Reborn, a shadow of true fire! Fire is brought to heel. The King claims what was stolen.’”

Solinium paused and Rayne finished off the mantra.

“A world will burn. The Fire God descends.” Rayne shrugged as he stirred the pot with his wooden spoon. “I don’t know if Char knew we had heard the prophecy before but something tells me that he thought he was being ominous or smart by reciting it. We were debating what relevance his current actions could have.”

“I believe it’s the line of ‘echoes of sins gone by’,” said Solinium. “Char is purposefully bringing up the pasts of these Paladins, causing them to Fall. I theorize that he is gathering the strength of the Phantasms to fuel the resurrection of the God of Fire.”

“I, on the other hand, believe that isn’t true,” Rayne said. “Alleria didn’t Fall because of something she did in the past. She fell because she thought she killed Char. Sure, her unrequited love for Urelia may have played a part in it but it was Char’s death that triggered her Fall.”

“She was holding in there for a bit,” admitted Hunter. “But if you don’t think that’s the part of the prophecy he’s trying to trigger, what is?”

“I’m more focused on the phrase about ‘The name of flame tainted’,” answered the Demon Prince. “Remember how the Goetia tainted the very definition of Vermilion in the Illuminus Weizar? That seems related. “This goes with the previous stanza about ‘fiery blood’ igniting. Vermilion caused people to spontaneously combust in the Station of the Sun. As in ‘those who bask in the sun’.”

“But there’s another sentence between that and the whole tainting of the flame,” argued Solinium. “What is this thing about their sacrifice and ‘awakening the sleeping phoenix’?”

“This is an apocalyptic prophecy, Cassius. It isn’t going to follow some language structure just because that’s how researches say it will be most aesthetically pleasing.”

The Leomian rolled his eyes. “Regardless, the question remains; how is causing the Paladins to Fall related to that prophecy?”

Hunter tilted his head to the side, flicking at ear back. “Well, when I’m faced with a problem, I sometimes like to think what it could not be. I remember an old saying that when you eliminate the impossible, what’s remaining no matter how improbable, must be true.” He lifted a finger. “So let’s work at it one at a time. Causing Paladins to Fall would have nothing to directly do with some ‘King’ claiming something that’s stolen, right?”

Rayne let out a soft sigh and set down his spoon. “I wouldn’t be sure about that.”

Solinium lifted an eyebrow. “You really think it could be related to that? To Him?”

It was Hunter’s turn to lift his eyebrows again. “Who are we talking about?”

The Demon Prince turned towards the two in the kitchen. “What I am about to say does not leave our group, agreed? No one else can hear about it.” Hunter nodded and Solinium consented, given that he already knew. “The Creation Myth posits that the Mother Goddess created everything and her Apostles helped her. But that’s just the central belief that the Church of the Tower instilled into people. The Apostles are the various Gods each of the Stations consider their patrons and they were grouped up into subservient deities under the Mother Goddess when the Church started taking over the world.”

Rayne held up two fingers. “However, no matter who you believe, two deities remain unaccounted for. Haamiah the God of Time and the Demon King, Asmodeus.”

Solinium gasped and Rayne huffed.

“Please,” huffed the demon. “Don’t fall into that old fairy tale that merely mentioning his name will summon him. I am a Demon Prince. I know that’s not true.” He turned his gaze back to Hunter. “Now according to the Creation Myth, the Mother Goddess was betrayed by her Apostles and she banished them. Amongst the demons, we believe something else entirely differently.”

“What?” Hunter asked, setting down his mug.

“We believe that Asmodeus was, in fact, one of the creation deities. Not sure exactly what he contributed to creation but many of us believe that he - as an agent of chaos - gave mortals free will. It was why countless demons continued to fight for him for countless millennia. We believed we were on a holy crusade trying to introduce true freedom - freedom of physical form while maintain integrity of mind and soul - to Tower Thirteen.”

Hunter let out a soft hum to himself. There really were two sides to every story. Demons, often perceived as selfish and self-serving, were fully capable of acting as one. This was a given after the three demonic wars that crippled Tower Thirteen gravely. To think that they were doing all of that under the banner of a Demon King was astounding.

“Is the Demon King real?”

Rayne shook his head grimly. “No one knows. No one has seen Asmodeus. Ever. Not even the oldest of demons. They just believe that he exists. For all we know, Asmodeus is actually the Mother Goddess who, after retreating from Tower Thirteen after mortals abused magic, found her true people in the Chaos of Void and has been systematically trying to undo her earlier mistake.”

“Blasphemy,” hissed Solinium. “But I’ll allow it. Everyone is entitled to their beliefs. Even if they are wrong.”

“Thanks,” Rayne laughed sarcastically. “What I’m getting to is there is this school of belief that Asmodeus actually collaborated with many of the other deities on their projects. There is a belief that the other creation gods apart from Athena and Haamiah stole something from Asmodeus and locked him away. That’s why he is absent in most scenarios. There are thoughts that the other deities killed Asmodeus and that was the root of the first murder and his death created evil in the world and thus the demons. There are others that theorize it was Asmodeus that tried to steal from the others and succeeded until the Mother Goddess found out and banished him.” The Demon Prince shook. “Either way, I think this ‘King’ that they’re talking about is the Demon King.”

Hunter mulled over the implications. “Okay… So getting back on track… That can’t be what Char is referring to…”

Rayne laughed softly and swept his black hair back. “Right. Sorry. I got distracted.” He turned back to his pot. “Why don’t we lay this theorizing to rest? Let’s change the subject.”

“Why don’t we talk about our next mark?” Solinium asked. “What do you know of this Vengeance Wren?”

With a smile, Hunter lifted a finger and picked up his cup again. “I actually did some research on him while flying.”

Vengeance Wren - or Ven as he preferred to be called - was born and raised in Sveltholm. The Equus was the first and only son of a couple in the prosperous mining down. Rooted in a community that emphasized the close ties of familial bonds and communal relationships, Ven grew up valuing his friends, family and neighbors as if they were his own blood.

“Then comes the tragedy that befalls every Paladin,” sighed Hunter.

Bandits attacked Sveltholm in an incredibly coordinated way. They killed key figures and took over the town, pretending that everything was fine. The townsfolk were forced to maintain the ruse while they worked tirelessly to keep the minerals they were mining pumping out of the town. Only now, they had to work double the time because they were fueling the bandit’s luxuries.

Ven admittedly developed his strong physique from working in the minds for years under the bandits while local authorities took no note. Eventually, however, a coup was staged. Ven lost his parents in the violence that followed and in his sorry, Ven obtained his Valor - the ironically named Liberation. Through his actions over the years, Sveltholm became an independent town. Not under any command of any lord and only indirectly under Corona’s leadership.

“Seems like everyone who gets a Valor has to be traumatized in some what shape or form before they get it,” Hunter sighed.

“Valors aren’t aren’t a reward for our trauma,” Solinium said. “They are a test. A challenge from the Mother Goddess to overcome our limitations and pain. It is when one truly masters their past and actualizes who they can be that they master their Valor and become a Templar.”

“Oh yeah?” Rayne challenged. “What was your trauma?”

“Child trafficking and prostitution.”

Hunter nearly dropped his mug in shock and Rayne glared at Solinium with open horror.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Solinium said waving them away. “I have come to terms with that part of my life. It is part of me.”

“But you cannot just drop a bombshell like that without explaining!” Hunter cried. “Please tell me you were the child that was trafficked and sold to prostitution and not the one actually doing the selling!” When Solinium gave him a glare he raised his paws. “Not that it’s any better… wait… no… I mean…!”

The Leomian waved him down. “Yes, I was sold. Out in the Sunless Lands, Leomians are considered… valuable. Especially males. I was a born to a noble family on another Station, Arret if I recall. They already had a first born son ready to take on the throne and when I was born, they realized they could make more profit by selling me to a Sultan of the Sunless Lands than marrying me off to cement some other alliance. So that is what happened. I never knew my parents and I was sold and put on display as a sign of power and prestige.” No sadness entered Solinium’s eyes as he brought the chopped vegetables to a captivated Rayne. “That was when I was still a cute cub. When my mane started growing in, I became valuable in another way.”

“No…” Rayne breathed.

“Unfortunately, yes. I serviced men and women alike. Starred in some shows and danced for the wealthy and mighty. I was fairly good at it as well.”

Hearing a Templar boast that they were good at pleasuring others was incredibly uncanny.

“Of course that is not where I wanted to be,” said Solinium. “After a particularly rough session, I prayed to anyone who would listen for salvation. That is when Zweihandler came to me. The Sultan tried to hide me from the Church but I was eventually rescued by none other than the Last Chronomancer.”

Rayne looked surprised. “Harm saved you?”

Solinium nodded with a proud smile. “Yes. I remember that day. He had heard of my manifestation while on some other mission in the Sunless Lands. He purposefully made a detour to investigate. The Sultan tried to trick him. Made a copy of Zweihandler and made it seem like I had no command over it. It broke my heart when I grabbed that copy believing it to be the real thing and I didn’t feel the power I had when I held my true Valor.”

The Leomian laughed. “But the Last Chronomancer was no fool. He saw through the ruse. Shattered the fake Valor in front of the Sultan and his court. Made him show the real Valor and I wielded it once more. Then he took me away. Guided me for years to help me overcome my trauma.” Solinium smiled ruefully to himself. “I don’t think I would have ever become a Templar were it not for his guidance.”

“What happened to the Sultan?’ asked Hunter.

Solinium shrugged. “Oh, he’s old, doting and has passed his kingdom to his son. We still have tea every month.”

“You have tea with the man who made your life a living hell!?” Rayne blurted. “Who bought you as a child and then sold you for sex!?”

“What else was he meant to do?” answered Solinium with a strange calm. “It is part of his culture. How he was brought up to act. Perhaps the child slavery was extreme but a man of his wealth and upbringing grew to become entitled and believed himself above the law. Harm humbled him and reminded him of what common decency was. I return to enforce the fact that true power comes from forgiveness than vengeance.”

For a moment, there was a distant look in Solinium’s eyes and a warm smile on his muzzle. “And to reinforce the lesson in myself that even the deepest darkness can be dispelled by the faintest light.”

Hunter shook his head in utter disbelief. “You Templars are an entirely different bunch. I thought Aria was just that… angelic because she’s… well… an angel but I don’t think I could ever forgive anyone who did that kind of stuff to me.”

Solinium gave him a warm smile. “Well, it was not without its trials. There were many times that I was very much tempted to smite that man and claim it as holy retribution or to find my birth parents and rub into their faces what a man I have become. But then - with Harm’s teaching - I came to understand that I would not have become who I am without the trauma they put me through. I am not saying that is what every parent or parental figure should do but all the people I have helped can be attributed to that little shard of cruelty that showed me early in my long life. A long life that I intend to use continuing to help others.”

Amazing how someone could be so earnest and forgiving. The stark differences between Templars, Paladins and Fallen was on full display… and their similarities. Those with Valors who surrendered to their trauma became Fallen but those that overcame them became Templars. Yet, ultimately, they had the potential to end in much the same place - accepting themselves.

That was heartwarming and brought a spark of hope for the likes of Ven, Eaton and Ford.

“Well,” Hunter sighed, pushing off the counter. “I better get back to the pilot’s seat. We’ll be landing soon and I want to make sure we arrive without panicking people. Last I heart, Sveltholm was still populated. Don’t want them freaking out and shooting fireballs at us.”

“Stay a while,” Rayne said with a smile. “Maybe slow the ship down. Let’s all have a meal first before we arrive. We all deserve a moment of respite.”

He sniffed the air. The aroma coming from the pot was delicious.

“Sure. What are you making?”

Rayne then did something utterly surprising to Hunter. The Demon Prince reached into the pot and pulled out what looked like a boiled pig head, a big grin on his face. Hunter’s expression immediately paled and Solinium’s jaw dropped in horror.

“Boarcoal cutlets and rice!”

“Cutlets…?” Hunter asked. “How are you going to turn that…” He gagged as he pointed at the boar’s head that had its skin literally pealing off its skull. “… into cutlets?”

“Oh this?” Rayne dumped the head back into the bot. “That’s just for the broth I’ll be using to cook the rice in. The head has the most fat and flavor in it so I’m boiling all of it off before I reduce the stock and then cook the rice in. I’m about to make the cutlets now. Would you like to help?”

Solinium leaned towards Hunter slyly. “Run,” he whispered.

“I’ll…” Hunter began, shuffling towards the door. “I’ll go slow down the ship like you suggested. Maybe later.”

“Of course. Now come on, Cassius. You said you’d help. Let’s grind down the offal and trotters into something edible.”

Hunter tried not to gag and rapidly retreated from the kitchen but not before catching Solinium’s envious look. He charged into the conference room just as the class there was finishing. As the door slid open and closed, some of the admittedly delicious aroma flew into the room and the four students sniffed the air.

“Wow… that smells fucking great!” Kane exclaimed. “What’s cooking?”

Hunter gave them a hesitant smile. “Rayne is -”

“Rayne is cooking!?” blurted Wood and Skye in unison, look of horror on their faces. Kane’s bright expression immediately soured and JD headed out of the room, saying something about finding away to disable their tastebuds for a long period of time.

“That bad…?” asked Hunter.

“Rayne is a demon,” Wood said, his wings slumping over his shoulders. “He’s got this philosophy of using every part of the beast that he slaughters because nourishment in the Void is hard to come by.”

“He takes that to the extreme,” Skye whimpered. “Even traditionally poisonous stuff he will cook down and insist that we need it to build an immunity. He also tends not to use spices…”

“He… doesn’t use spices…?”

Kane shuffled towards the bridge. “No spices in the Void… I’m going to warn Uncle Lex and Tanar… I think this’ll be the first time that kitty will have had Rayne’s cooking.”

Hunter’s stomach started rebelling against him.

“I’m already starting to have regrets.”

Brotherhood

Kane watched the burly mining people of Sveltholm pass by with keen interest. He tilted his head as he observed a buxom woman with arms as thick as her neck hefting a pickaxe as she strode off to one of the mines. Then his eyes followed as a heavily muscled man with glistening abdominals stepped out of one of the refining facilities, wiped his brow and then proceeded to douse himself in some nearby water.

“They grow hot here in Sveltholm,” he commented, growling lustfully.

“Unsurprising given it’s history,” Tanar commented brusquely. “It is a mining town.”

Sveltholm was built around a large series of mines, each of which specialized in the production and refinement of different materials. From the air, it looked like a pentagonal town with tall, stone barricades around its borders and roads leading out into circular pits radiating out of it in different directions. This left a lot of the surrounding area around the town quite flat thus giving plenty of room for the frigate to land. A budding starport was in the middle of construction hinting at the plans to eventually ship the products of the township farther and faster.

When the Godslayer II had arrived, the township was at first excited. The mayor - a beefy Simean of the gorilla variety - greeted them and shook each of their hands. His palms were calloused and he wasn’t dressed like some politician but as another miner. Mayor Lawrence Langley was brusque but polite, welcoming them to Sveltholm and then asking what their business was.

Aria and Solinium gave their official statements and then Langley offered to escort them to the local guard’s office where the disappearances were being logged and investigated.

Kane’s boots hit the hard-packed mud of the roads. There were no cobblestones here. All the ‘roads’ were really just dirt and soil that had been trodden on for so long by horses and cleaved through by carts carrying precious ore that they became a sort of common path.

The town itself was more rustic than the artistic and suave Shimmersea or the pristine and polished Corona. Buildings were made of gray stone cobbled together into sturdy, squat homes. Hay was stuffed beneath clay rooftops to form insulation and proceeded to stick out in places. The roads were solid but disorganized, twisting and swerving in odd directions and leading to multiple dead ends. Unlike Shimmersea, the town was incredibly busy and loud.

The sound of steam rising from the refineries and metal banging on metal echoed across the township. The light from the Sun Spire was somewhat muted by the plumes of smoke from the various buildings. The streets were filled with carts, miners and workers all working to produce the precious minerals that the town was known for.

He noticed that very few of the buildings were actually for the purposes of residences. Most were stores or places of work. Those few that were built to house people had two storeys but little else. “Where do people live in this place?”

“Closer to the mines, actually,” Langley said over his shoulder. “Sveltholm is more built around the refinement and shipping of what the mines produce. People live near the mines so that they can get up and go to work much more easily.”

“I see that refining and shipping isn’t the only reason people come here then,” Kane said, eying a very clear brothel. Tanar coughed loudly but he ignored the Leomain and glared lewdly.

“People spend their hard-earned cash here in Sveltholm,” Langley continued. “And we use that money to better it. Thanks to the work from the Generals, we will soon have our own starport. Our shipments of minerals will reach far and wide.”

“What do you export here if you don’t mind me asking,” Skye asked.

Four major minerals were mined in the Sveltholm area; gold, platinum and iron were their most reliable sources of income. The majority of the mines were built around these three minerals. However, the biggest came from svelitite of which the town got its name.

“You may have seen the svelitite mines when you were flying over,” said Langley. “They are large, circular pits with big, rosy pink crystals coming out of them the size of houses.”

“I saw those!” Skye exclaimed. “I’ve also read that svelitite has the unique property of being used in a lot of Alchemical Pyromancy. It’s a very powerful catalyst. The refining process is also incredibly difficult…”

“Correct! Sveltholm is the top producer of svelitite in northern part of the Incendian Mainland. Corona gets all of its svelitite from us and we distribute it all over the Church’s lands.”

Kane fought back the urge to correct Langley that the Church didn’t hold power on Incendius anymore - at least not as a governing body. They no longer held ‘lands’ save for the territory around their cathedrals. Government and ownership went to the Generals and the governing bodies that they had installed. Still, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, something Tanar caught and gently nudged him.

Rayne hummed softly to himself. “I suppose that makes sense. Svelitite, despite it’s seemingly inorganic, crystalline appearance, is actually more akin to hardened sap produced by a tree. It is purely organic and tends to grow further south. We’re fairly close to the Custodia Vampiri’s territories and they are the top producers of svelitite in all of Incendius. It makes sense that there is a rich vein here.”

“Indeed it does,” Langley said proudly. “We’ve been accosted multiple times by the Vampiri to sell our territories or to sell our products directly to them but we have steadfastly remained on this side of the border.”

There was a lot of national pride coming from Langley. Something Kane didn’t quite expect from a relatively young politician. The gorilla was - perhaps - only forty years old yet spoke like an old, conservative, gray-haired, dedicated Church-goer. It made Kane’s stomach twist in his stomach.

After navigating through the streets of Sveltholm, they arrived at a large, stone building attached to what could only be considered the town barracks. Uniquely, there was an enormous stone statue of a powerfully built Equus wielding a hammer over one shoulder and dressed in a Paladin’s coat.

“Ven…?” Serena asked, tilting her head.

“Yes!” Langley exclaimed brightly. “This is a statue of Vengeance Wren! Sveltholm’s pride and joy!”

Kane had already heard about how Ven had risen through the ashes of captive miners against a bandit group that had once overrun Sveltholm. This was before the Fall of Haven. Ven became a Paladin in his early teens and over the past twenty or so years, he had become the patron of this mining town. Like Melody, he had constantly revisited his town and poured time and effort into ensuring it was safe and prosperous. Little wonder that they venerated him like a god.

At least in this case, Ven wouldn’t have some underlying guilt over causing the death of hundreds as a gateway to his Fall. Unless the horse blamed himself for the bandit attack and somehow felt helpless to prevent more suffering.

Kane mentally shook the thought from his mind. It would be repetitive and a little boring of Char to repeat the same trauma for two Paladins. The vibe he was getting from Sveltholm was also entirely different from Shimmersea. It seemed… functional.

They entered the guardhouse where the local guardsmen were milling about. All well-built and sturdy in their own right, the men were certainly intimidating. The first floor appeared to be some for of offices and he could see stairs leading downstairs to what could only be a dungeon. He guessed that the second floor was for living quarters. The size of the facility suggested that perhaps fifty soldiers could stand to defend the town and keep law and order.

“Captain!” Mayor Langley exclaimed, gesturing towards a Canonian of the Labrador variety. The man had a rather vicious scar across his muzzle that bit into his upper lip giving him a permanent scowl. He wore it well as he approached the party with his dark brown eyes filled with suspicion.

“Mayor,” grunted the canine. “I assume these are the people from that frigate.”

“That they are,” exclaimed the Mayor stepping aside and gesturing towards Aria and Solinium. The guard captain’s eyes immediately widened and he dipped his head, tail tucked between his legs and immediately made the antiquated gesture of greeting - where he would press a closed fist against his chest just over his heart, open his palm to kiss it and then lift a finger in a way to represent the Station he came from.

Aria and Solinium returned the gesture while Kane made a mental note how the motion had gone out of style in the past decade or so ever since the Church lost influence and power.

“Lord and Lady Templar,” said the canine, bowing his head and pulling the little, metal, kettle helmet from his head to reveal gray hairs between his ears. “An honor. I did not realize that the frigate was your carriage.”

The two Templars exchanged glances.

“Suffice to say that we are here on a mission of grave importance,” Solinium said. “You are…?”

“Kleimer Monroe. Captain of the Day Guard.”

“Day Guard?” Aria questioned.

“The shifts are split into three across the day,” explained Langley. “The Day Guard, the Noon Guard and the Dusk Guard. The Day Guard protect our walls and patrol the streets from about dawn to noon while the Noon Guard protect us well into the evening. The Dusk Guard watch us in the darkness until the dawn.”

“I see.” Aria nodded appreciatively towards Kleimer. “You do your city proud, Captain Monroe. Sveltholm seems quite orderly.”

“Appearances can be deceiving, M’lady,” sighed the canine. “I assume you are here because of the disappearances.”

Clearly they hadn’t heard about Ven’s disappearance. Little wonder. The Church and even the military had decided to keep Char’s betrayal and the subsequent disappearances of the Paladins a secret. The involvement of the Custodia Goetia and their plot to cause Paladins to Fall would only cause panic and further distrust on the few Paladins that remained.

Kane was quickly growing bored as Aria began interrogating the captain and mayor about the recent bout of disappearances. His eyes drifted towards the dungeon. The remaining guardsmen were captivated by Aria and Solinium’s presence. He was briefly introduced as a student from Pinnacle and he gave a flash smile just to keep people interested for the moment before conversation returned to the current issue.

His eyes drifted towards the stairs leading down into the dungeon. Thoughts of nasty prison sex flooded his mind and he licked his muzzle. With everyone currently distracted by Aria and Solinium, he shuffled quietly away from the crowd and made his way down into the dungeon. He was only halfway down the steps when he heard a familiar crackle of lightning, the fur on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt familiar paws wrap around his shoulders.

“Kind of surprising how people completely missed a four-hundred pound bear sneaking off into the dungeon,” JD said, playfully hanging from Kane’s shoulder like a backpack.

“Or how no one noticed the bolt of red lightning dashing away from them,” Kane answered smugly.

“That’s natural. Lightning is fleeting.” JD slipped off Kane’s shoulders and began padding beside him, each footstep quiet as a ghost. “So did you suspect something was up down here or were you just bored.”

“Bored,” answered Kane. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “Those idiots don’t know anything. They don’t even know that Ven is missing.”

A soft croak came from one of the nearby cells. “Vengeance is missing…?”

Kane exchanged glances with his cousin before they both headed towards the cells. They were very typical prison cells; primitive in design with metal bars built into the stone around them and a single door that could be opened by a key. Beyond the dark crouched a thin, ragged looking Amphios. It was hard to tell exactly which subspecies he was but the general appearance was that of a frog. However, his skin was discolored from cuts and bruises, one of his eyes were swollen shut. The ragged, brown cloak he wore was barely hanging onto his shoulders.

“Are you alright?” JD asked, genuine concern in his voice. “What happened to you?”

The man let out a soft, bitter chuckle. “I guess you must be from out of town. I can barely see and thought you were just new guardsmen.” He tried to give them a bitter smile but his lips cracked and began to bleed. “Welcome to Sveltholm.”

Kane appraised the man’s body and inclined his head to the side. “I don’t suppose this is a classical case of the guards being a little too… ‘heavy handed’ with enforcing the law, is it?”

The frog gave him a crooked grin. “You could say that.” The man stood up and hobbled towards the iron bars. “See, the mayor wants to put on a show. People have gone missing and that unsettles the townsfolk.”

“As it should.”

“Right.” The man spat on the ground and paused a moment. In the gloom, it was hard to tell if it was mostly blood or spit. “Well, the mayor and his goods are out there looking for the culprit. But they also saw this as a good flamin’ reason to go after those of us that he considers… ‘unsavory’.”

Kane breathed heavily through his nostrils. “Of course he did… I bet it’s good for his publicity too. People keep going missing and that gives him free reign to bring in anyone for interrogation and hold them until further notice.”

The bloodied and bruised prisoner winked at them and clucked his tongue. “Ya got it, little spark.”

“Little…?” huffed the titanic bear.

JD folded his arms and glanced down the dungeon at the various other cells. “So it’s a way of placating the people while also eliminating other possibilities.” His ears bent back. “But there has to be something linking those that have disappeared. Motive? Commonality? Something?”

The frog’s grin grew wide. “Sure is, little ember. All the victims are of a particular taste.”

Kane lifted an eyebrow. “Elaborate?”

The man leaned against the bars, appraising Kane and then giving JD a coy stare. “Let’s just say that both you boys would fit right into that crowd were you so inclined… if you were both wearing less clothing.”

“Prostitutes?” JD asked.

“Homosexuals,” Kane grunted, bearing his fangs. The frog pointed at him, indicating that he was right. “You know, I had a feeling that this town wasn’t too fond of those that had sex with their own gender but I’m having trouble wrapping my head around why. This town is clearly heavily influenced by religious dogma. They have a statue of a fucking Paladin right outside this guardhouse. The Church is fine with homosexuality. The Mother Goddess preaches that love is love. No one in the Church has ever decried the practice. Ever. So where did this hatred for gays come from?”

The prisoner shrugged, resting his back against the bars. “Who knows? It started well before Vengeance Wren became this town’s patron. Even before he was born.”

JD and Kane exchanged glances, both of them wondering if this was another one of Char’s plots where the township had become corrupted well before current events.

“I’ll tell you one thing though,” said the prisoner, holding up a finger. “When the local bishop-turned warlord got kicked out during the Fall, no one in the Church or the goddamn flaming military ever corrected the townsfolk on what they thought about men and women bedding their own gender.”

JD tilted his head to the side. “You’re talking about the people of Sveltholm like you’re not one of them. Are you a newcomer to this town as well?”

The frog shrugged. “Merchant. I sell tools and wood. Mines need maintenance.”

“And how did you wind up in prison battered and bruised?”

A wicked grin crossed the frog’s features. “The mayor is running out of ‘undesirables’. Been over two months of these purges. He’s scraping the bottle of the barrel for someone to blame.”

Two months? The Paladins had been kidnapped barely a month ago. When asked when the disappearances started, the prisoner replied that it was about four months since the issue became of actual concern. Four and a half or so since the first recorded disappearance. That did not line up at all with anything that Char had done.

“Thanks for your time,” JD said. “We’ve got two Templars with us. We’ll put in a good word for you and see if we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t bother.”

That surprised Kane and he arched an eyebrow at the man. “You’d rather be in here?”

“In here, I know I won’t disappear,” answered the frog with a sly smile. “But out there? Who knows?”

“But only the people who are…” JD began then he trailed off, his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh…” He glanced over at the rest of the cells. “How many…?”

“About half.” The frog sighed and shuffled back towards the corner of his cell. “We’ve suffered long enough trying to hide who we are from a town that treats us like we have the flaming plague because of who we choose to love. We’ve formed a sort of… brotherhood. When we realized who was disappearing - and we knew who was disappearing before the authorities did - we banded together. Together we decided that it was better to be imprisoned than to be pulled off into the darkness and into the unknown.”

Kane scoffed. “So you gave up.”

The amphibian huddled in the corner, draping his cloak around him. “Judge as much as you want. The rest of this town already has.”

Huffing to himself, Kane turned and stormed up the steps, infuriated but at the same time saddened. He and JD joined the rest of their group a moment later, no one ever even noticing that they had disappeared. Aria and Solinium finished receiving the briefing and Mayor Langley told them that he would arranged for them to stay with him at the mayoral manor as his guests. Though the Godslayer would offer equal or even better accommodation, the Templars couldn’t refused out of sheer politeness.

They left the guardhouse a moment later while the mayor said that he would make arrangements and they were free to venture throughout the town until the evening when he would be ready to host them. Obviously, this man was the self-serving type with the goal of doing whatever he could to promote his worth and popularity. Scapegoating random ‘undesirables’ and cozying up to the visiting Templars was only recent example.

“I know that look,” JD accused as they part gathered in front of the guardhouse. “How are you going to totally make everyone’s jaws drop while shrieking your name in horror?”

Kane gave his cousin a knowing smile. “You know me all too well, cuz.” He turned and marched over to a nearby guard who was chatting with one of his colleagues.

As he approached and loomed over the leopard, he hiked his chin at the man. “Hey, got a second?”

Right on cue, he heard JD call out his name loud enough to catch the attention of the others who were watching curiously.

“Of course, sir,” answered the shorter leopard. “How may I help you?’

“Was wondering if you could help me,” Kane said, leaned an arm against the wall. “See, my friends and I just had a long trip and we were wondering if there was some place we could go to get something decent to eat and get a nice stiff drink.”

The guard gave him a pleasant smile. “Well, there is this restaurant that I really like. It’s called the Meaty Miner.”

Kane sighed dramatically. “See, when I said I wanted a stiff drink, what I was actually after was…” He immediately reached out, his paw grabbing the man’s crotch and squeezing the meat between his legs. “… something right from the tap. Emphasis on that stiff drink.”

“Kane!” Alex cried out incredulously, immediately catching everyone else’s attention.

“Don’t blame me!” he responded. “This asshole is the one that’s so freaking hot! I love a man in armor.” Then he leaned down and drew a long, drool-dripping tongue up the leopard’s cheek. “Tastes good too.”

Just to finish off, he playfully nipped at the man’s rounded ears.

Solinium grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. “Okay, that’s enough!” He whirled a grinning Kane around and pushed him away from the stunned and clearly blushing guard. “We have got to send you to a sexual harassment seminar!”

“Please, it’s not harassment if he likes it.”

“That’s not an appropriate answer!”

“Well, if he’s not into it then…” Kane turned, spreading his arms wide. A large number of the people on the busy streets had turned to look at him but the moment he started shouting, everyone in earshot had their eyes on him. “… I’m hear for ya, Sveltholm! Drill my hole hard! I wanna feel your sweaty, throbbing miner dicks all up in me! You hot, masculine, muscled bodies melt me!” For emphasis, he twisted his frame, acting uncharacteristically feminine for his build. “Pound me hard with your stiff meat! Urgh!” He curled his arms behind his head and thrust his hips forward. “Cool me in your cum!”

“Enough!” Tanar shouted. Black ribbons sprang from the Paldin’s book, wrapping around Kane’s muzzle and immediately dragging him to the ground. “I have no idea what’s gotten into you but that is enough of that!”

Kane smirked inwardly to himself. The gazes of everyone was either of disgust, shock or a mixture of both. Word of his actions and sexuality would surely spread to whoever was behind the kidnapping. What made his smile grow wider, however…

… was that he couldn’t see his cousin in the crowd at all.

JD was already hot on their trail.

Back from the Grave

The minute Kane started his antics out in front of the guardhouse, JD began skulking away, disappearing into the crowd. No one from the Godslayers noticed he was gone as they struggled to get Kane under control. That suited him well as it gave JD time to watch from a distance. He crouched quietly behind one of the chimneys of a nearby building, watching as Kane was hauled off by an irritated Tanar back towards the frigate.

It was only here that he had a modicum of privacy with their guest.

“You know you could’ve come to us at any time,” he said, still watching the Godslayers.

“Considering how you guys were so eager to ditch me the first time we met and how Rayne Noam beat the living daylights out of me, I wasn’t exactly sure I could call you allies,” Ven answered.

The towering, sable-furred Equus stood casually to the side. He had discarded the black cloak of a Paladin and was just dressed in the black and red leather armor that was his Valor, Liberation. He didn’t look worse for wear; no signs of torture. However, Char was known more for emotional torture than physical so what was bubbling away in Ven’s head was still in question.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” continued Ven. “Langley is an opportunistic bastard but he’s not about to go and accuse the companion of two Templars of ‘sin’ or whatever. Especially when they’re also traveling with a demon and a Fallen.”

“Speaking of Fallen…” JD turned towards the Paladin. “I don’t suppose you heard what happened with Melody?”

Ven shook his head, indicating a negative and JD proceeded to retell the events of Shimmersea. The Equus listened stoically, only asking the occasional question but never interrupting. It was only after the young Wulfun had finishing recounting the events leading up to the moment that JD leaned against the chimney, arms folded and watching the horse in front of him.

“And that’s it,” he concluded. “We used Templar Solinium’s intel and guessed that with all the disappearances, you might have Fallen and come here. We honestly thought the people vanishing was because of you. That is until we got more information and learned that people were vanishing a lot earlier than when you were kidnapped by Char.”

The Paladin was quiet for a short moment but his eyes could not met JD’s.

“Unless the disappearances were because of you,” concluded the Wulfun.

Again, no response.

“I see.” JD closed his eyes for a moment and then pushed off the chimney, striding towards Ven. “So going out on a limb. You’re not actually kidnapping people. You’re rescuing them. This has been your pet project outside of being a Paladin. Rescuing homosexuals and giving them better lives elsewhere. Char let you go for some reason and your first instinct was to come back here and check on your secret, underground network of liberators to make sure Char hadn’t gotten to them. He probably said something that made you worry. Right?”

Ven glanced at him, blue eyes wide in shock and fear. “That’s… frighteningly accurate. How did you know?”

Three-hundred and forty-seven thousand guesses. That was how long it took before JD could come up with an accurate summation of Ven’s plight. In all of those instances, nothing short of a perfect guess would get the equine to fully admit the truth.

And he was still not right about everything.

So JD stepped into the Machine, rewound time and once again emerged in that instant when he opened his eyes and stepped towards Ven.

“So going out on a limb,” he repeated though to Ven, it seemed like the first time he was attempting to guess. “You’re not actually kidnapping people. You’re rescuing them. This has been your pet project outside of being a Paladin. Rescuing homosexuals and given them better lives elsewhere. Char let you go for some reason and your first instinct was to come back here and check on your secret, underground network of liberators to make sure Char hadn’t gotten to them. Char knew you so he probably knew about this too, right? Maybe he helped you set it up and you’re afraid that after all your investment and attachment to the project, he purposefully let it go up in flames. Maybe expose the rest of Sveltholm to your actions. You wouldn’t care what happened to you but to those you had saved…?”

Ven’s glance at him was filled with shock and fear. Same as before. But there was no hint of truth. There was still something hidden. “That’s… That’s right. How did you know?”

JD went back in time. This time, he waited in the Machine for a moment, watching the scenarios play over and over again in the twisting cogs in front of him.

“What am I missing?” he mumbled to himself, tapping his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look back farther.”

He glanced over at Haamiah, the golden god hovering on his throne and watching ominously.

“Farther…?” He turned back towards the cogs. “I can’t look back further than ten minutes… Unless…” JD narrowed his eyes. “No… You don’t want me to go back farther. Just look farther in the past… Remember something.” He inclined his head, ears tilted back. “Ven… What do I know about him…?”

Time continued to rewind until his eyes began to strain as he reached the ten limit mark. He released the cogs from his iron will and watched slowly as the events played out as they always did. Watching Kane from the shadow of the chimney. Turning to Ven and offering a little bit of banter before recounting what happened with Melody.

Inspiration struck.

“That’s it…”

He stepped into Tower Thirteen once more.

“So going out on a limb,” he began for the two-hundred and forty-ninth time. “You’re not actually kidnapping people. You’re rescuing them. This has been your pet project with Ford, wasn’t it?” He paused and it was that instance when he caught Ven choke a little. “Rescuing homosexuals and given them better lives elsewhere. Your worked with Ford on this. Because he’s your lover, isn’t he? That’s why when Char took him first, you were completely heartbroken.”

Ven’s mighty shoulders shuddered.

“Char let you go for some reason and your first instinct was to come back here and check if Ford was here. You probably made some secret pact to meet here. You were hoping he had escaped too and you’d find him here.”

“Enough!” Ven snarled, waving an arm through the air. His eyes were filled with anger, frustration and hatred.

And there it was. The reaction he was after.

“Char knew how to push our buttons,” Ven sneered, teeth bared on his long face. “He kept using this spell, the Flames of Truth, to try and coax some deep dark secret from me. I fended him off as best as I could. Gave him half-truths that the Flames couldn’t consider a lie. I thought I was being clever when I escaped. It was subtle, you know. He kept us in cages that nullified our magic. But I could still fit my hand through the bars and I could summon some power when my hand was out. It wasn’t much. Just what Force and Spirit I could muster from my fingertips. But it was enough shift the earth from underneath the cage just enough to facilitate my escape.”

The horse ran a hand down his face. “I made the ground softer. Loosened it a bit. Just enough so that in the short time that I was alone and Char wasn’t there tormenting me, I could dig my way out and escape. I ran. I tried to rescue Eaton but he wasn’t there anymore. Had some cultists in my way but I managed to escape. Everyone else was gone. I came straight here because that’s where I thought Trevor would be.”

“But he wasn’t here,” JD concluded. His eyes darted towards the distant Godslayer II. “And I’m willing to bet that Char expected that. He knew you’d come here. And he knew you’d stay because of your obligation to saving the people trapped in this town under the scrutiny of a community that abhors homosexuality.”

Ven’s shoulder’s sagged and he slumped down, crouching and leaning against the chimney. “The people of Sveltholm aren’t bad. It’s not like they stone, castrate or even outwardly hurt anyone that’s even remotely gay. It’s just… the gossip. The looks. The subtle things that get to you. A snide comment here and there. A subtle stare. An act of pity or misguided chivalry.” He waved absently towards the guardhouse. “Those people running the guard are probably the worst of it but they are few. It’s everyone else and their attempts to tolerate you while clearly being comfortable about it that gets to me. It’s like they want you to know they’re suffering and are piling on that guilt.”

“I’m sure it really isn’t like that for most of them.”

Ven sighed and rose to his hoofed feet. “No. It isn’t. But that is how it comes off and the unfortunate thing is that those I have rescued from this life are unable to go anywhere else because they have nowhere else to go. They grow up with the dual messages of ‘it’s okay to be gay’ and everyone else is suffering to make them comfortable. You can’t leave because doing so would be considered ungrateful for all the efforts that everyone else has put into trying to accommodate you for how you are.”

JD sucked some air between his fangs. “That’s… That’s harsh. Freedom within a gilded cage made out of guilt and obligation.”

“Exactly.” Ven shook his head, red made fluttering. “Every person I have rescued has willingly taken the opportunity to disappear and start somewhere else.” A bitter smile touched his lips. “How sad is that?" That bitter smile was turned towards the township that had accepted him as their role model. “They would rather the world thought they were dead than tell their families that they were leaving because they couldn’t stand how they were being treated as a homosexual.”

A rush of wind billowed out from behind Ven and a large, green-scaled figure came down from the sky. Wood rolled his shoulders as he landed, folding his wings back with Cindarc in one hand and Vulcan in the other.

“Sounds like eloping with extra baggage,” rumbled the Draconis.

JD folded his arms with a smile. “Dang. And here I thought I had managed to sneak away without anyone noticing.”

“You did. At first.” Wood flashed him a smile. “But this is like the millionth time you’ve done this, JD. We’ve gotten used to it by now. I just drew the short straw between me, Kane and Skye and had to go looking.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Wood jerked his head at Ven. “So is he brainwashed by Char? Traumatized beyond all reason?” His eyes narrowed. “Fallen?”

“Nope,” answered the Red Lightning. “Though I’m starting to suspect that’s all according to Char’s plan.”

Ven threw him a cautious look. “What do you mean?”

Lifting a finger, JD said, “Char purposefully took away Ford from you knowing how you’d react. Given the time and effort he put into getting Melody and Alleria to Fall, it seems suspicious to me that he was careless enough to just let you escape. I’m willing to bet he knew you would make your way here. I also think that since you and Ford set up this underground brotherhood together, he’s going to use that to make you Fall.”

The black-furred Equus’ eyes widened in shock. “You think he’d kill all the people I’d saved? Destroy the network I created just to get me to Fall?”

“He basically brainwashed Melody’s entire hometown and burned each of them one by one in front of her to do the same,” Wood growled. “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

Ven shook his head in desperation and started sliding down the rooftop. “I’ve got to head back. Come with if you want.”

A quick exchange of glances with Wood indicated that there was no question they would accompany the equine Paladin. They gave chase; Wood taking wing while JD vanished into a storm of crimson lightning.

The equine Paladin better known as the Stoic Liberator led them quietly through the alleyways of Sveltholm, careful to avoid anyone so that they would not be seen. Strangely enough, he brought them to the brothel that Kane had spotted earlier. Apparently, it was the perfect place to hide a secret passage to his sanctuary. Those accused or suspected of being gay would go to the brothel under the guise of trying to ‘straighten themselves out’ only to find Ven or someone else’s help. They would disappear from there a short while later.

Particularly to the rear of the facility where a storage cellar door poked out from the middle of an alleyway. Ven crouched next to the door and placed both his hands against the wooden frame. Green runes appeared across his fingers before snaking down towards the door and spreading across its frame.

“A Spatial Keypass Spell,” Wood observed.

“A what?” JD asked, glancing at his friend.

“A special security measure. You place it over a door. If someone opens the door normally, it’ll go where you’d expect it to go. But if you cast a the Keypass Spell over it, the door will lead somewhere else.” Wood folded his meaty arms. “My mom’s company used it over their storage crates when shipping weapons long distances. They would ship the empty crates that require the Keypass to their destination while keeping the actual crates containing weapons in their own warehouses. That way, the only time the weapons would actually be taken from stock is when the intended recipient used the correct Keypass.”

JD’s tail wagged behind him. “Huh… Sounds like a neat way to easily transport goods places. You think we could set that stuff up everywhere we go? And can we use multiple Keypasses on a single door?”

Wood lifted a blonde eyebrow at him, offering a knowing smirk. “What? You’re thinking we set up like a fast travel network or something?”

“You read my mind.”

While viable, Keypass Spells did have a range. Unlike Warp Technology which could go anywhere, even if a Keypass Spell was used correctly, if it was out of range, it would be useless.

Ven straightened as the glowing, green runes faded from the door and he pulled the cellar door open. Instead of the basement of a brothel, they were greeted to an underground, mine-like tunnel. The Equus hurried them inside before shutting the door behind them. The ground was packed hard from countless footsteps having crossed the very same threshold. Creaky, wooden frames held up the walls and ceiling. Magical orbs hovered over their heads, offering a degree of illumination.

“Right now we’re actually in the tunnels of a long abandoned firon mine underneath Sveltholm,” Ven explained. “It was actually where I was put to work during the warlord’s reign. It was abandoned a long time ago when the firon ran dry.”

“Considering the abundance of minerals around Sveltholm, I’m surprised this place ran out at all,” Wood commented. “Isn’t firon basically iron infused with Pyromancy? Don’t you guys have iron mines?”

JD was amazed at Wood’s knowledge of minerals and mining. Then again, as the one-time heir to a weapons manufacturing empire, his draconic - and Fallen - friend would have received education on the topic. Or perhaps he had chosen to pursue such education even after his exile.

“You’d think so but no,” said Ven. “Firon and good-old iron are entirely different metals. Yes, firon has the same base properties as iron with the exception of having a higher melting point and it can conduct Pyromancy much easier but it is completely incompatible with most other metals. Iron can be made into a variety of alloys. Firon can’t. Those alloys you can make are extremely expensive to make. Some of the hardest metals out there though. People call it ‘Adramalech’s Adamantine’.”

“Like Red Adamantine?” JD asked.

Wood’s wings ruffled. “Hang on, JD. I gotta speak up here.” He held up a finger. “Adamantine is the alloy that’s made from raw adaman_tium_. Adamantium is raw, naturally occurring ore.”

“Okay…” JD said cautiously. “What did I say?”

There was a serious glare on Wood’s draonic face like JD had committed the most cardinal of sins. “You said Red Adamantine. There’s no such thing. Red Adamantium cannot be fused to make any other alloy. Even the legendary blade Bloodfyre was supposed to made of a pure Red Adamantium blade.”

JD pointed at Ven. “But he said…”

“Adramalech’s Adamantine,” Ven supplied, offering a rueful smile. “That’s because it’s an alloy made of firon and some other materials that make it look like Red Adamantium but is far inferior.”

Feeling like he was being bullied by two much larger men, JD puffed out his cheeks petulantly. “Well… I guess you learn something every day.”

Ven smirked and continued down the tunnels. “You know your metals, Bladebreaker.”

“Always been one of my interests. Green Draconis are naturally attuned to Geomancy, after all. I basically had to take geology. It’s how I was born.”

Mentally, JD winced.

“If only people who were born into their roles could be comfortable with who they were,” Ven mumbled. “Or at least society could accept them for how they were made.”

Wood opened his muzzle to maybe argue or maybe apologize but JD quickly but gently held his forearm. This caught his bigger friend’s attention. A small shake of his head and Wood kept his words back.

“So this mine is right underneath Sveltholm, huh?” asked the Red Lightning.

“Yup,” Ven answered, leading them deeper. “It was the the first mine that the town was built around. Actually, it’s multiple mines. When the first firon mine was founded, others started their own mines and they ended up getting connected after some time. When the firon ran out, they were all abandoned. There’s now this enormous network of tunnels underneath the town.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Wood asked. “One collapse from the tunnels and you could have a sinkhole.”

A legitimate concern and one brought up with the people of Sveltholm multiple times. In fact, the reason why the town was so densely packed with weird and twisting roads was because it was arranged to avoid any of the major tunnels and caverns of the mines. There was just too much convenience from Sveltholm’s central location to the other neighboring mines to move or abandon the entire town. Many of the major tunnels were also filled in and blocked off to avoid the possibility of collapse as much as possible. A reason why the mines were abandoned. As far as anyone knew, there was no purpose behind their existence anymore and it was dangerous to go digging beneath the city.

“But you found a way to use it.”

Ven nodded just as they entered a large, open cavern. “Ford’s idea.”

The cavernous opening was filled with a ramshackle village of sorts. Tents made scattered around the area while more of the magical lights hung above their heads. Twenty or so men and women milled about, looking a little disheveled but had a strange excited energy about them. Freedom - true freedom - was just within their reach. They just had to endure a few more days in the darkness of the cave before they could be free of Sveltholm.

“There’s actually no legitimate way to get to this place from any of the tunnels,” Ven continued. “I used my Geomancy to find this place and made our way through the earth before sealing it back up. We then built the Keypass doorway on this side before creating it on the surface. We’ve got multiple exits as well. Once we find lives for the people here, we smuggle them out in the night and then they’re free. We usually do it under the cover of darkness simply because the Keypass exits are still in the middle of town.”

“Quite the system you’ve got here,” Wood rumbled. There was an edge of disapproval in his voice. JD quickly nudged his friend but the dragon ignore him.

“You got something to say?” growled Ven.

“Plenty.” Wood stepped ahead of the horse and spread his arms to gesture at the miniature tent city. “What you’ve done here is neat but it isn’t addressing the problem. You’re just letting people ignore it. Hell, at worst case, you’re enabling the behavior that’s driving people here.”

“Ex_cuse_ me?” barked Ven.

Wood turned towards the Paladin, glaring in disgust. “You really think you’re making a difference here?”

“I am making a difference!” Ven gestured at the tents and the people who were now staring. “These people would be suffering under judgmental stares and sharp whispers of rumors if it weren’t for me!”

“But you’re not doing anything to change that behavior. All you’re doing is enabling people to keep treating anyone who they think is gay to that kind of suffering and then doing nothing to correct that behavior.” Wood suddenly had Cindarc in his hand and was swinging it around him. “You just take the people they’re gossiping about out of the picture so they can turn their attention to someone else! You might even be reinforcing the behavior because the gossips will think that all they need to do is spread enough rumors and then those that they’re talking about will just up and disappear!”

Ven stamped a hoofed foot. A little quake shook the cavern. JD glanced upwards and swallowed loudly.

“That is not what I’m doing!” snapped Ven. “Without me, everyone here would be stuck in this dead-end town without a hope of making anything as long as this stigma of something they can’t help hanging over their heads! Are you telling me it would be better that I just leave them alone!?”

JD moved forward, placing himself between the two and holding up his paws. “Come on, you two. This isn’t the reason we’re here.” He turned to the infuriated Paladin. “Ven, this place, your system, is a vulnerability that Char could exploit to cause you to fall. You clearly care about this place and them. Let us help you secure it against Char and -”

“You’re right, JD,” snarled Wood, stepping forward so that he was pressing right up against the Red Lightning’s extended paw. “It is a vulnerability. He says that he’s freeing people here but really, all he’s done is anchor himself to this place. He’s stuck and stagnant. Trapped just like these people.”

The ground shook once more and Ven stalked forward, each step shaking the earth beneath his hooves. JD couldn’t push back against the much stronger horse and was squeezed up right between Wood and Ven.

“Me? Trapped?” snarled the Equus.

“Yeah. You were trapped by those bandits that forced you to work these mines all those years ago. You’re trapped as the ‘hero’ of this town. You’re also trapped as the salvation to these people.” Wood swept his arm behind him. “And you know what the hilarious part is?”

He bared his fangs.

“Wood…” JD warned, trying to push his friend back but he was much smaller than the enormous dragon.

“You love it.”

A fire erupted behind Ven’s eyes. The Paladin roared and the entire chamber shook with the might of his voice. Only then were the three of them pushed away from one another. JD stumbled to the side, falling to the ground while Wood staggered back but spread his wings to keep himself balanced. Ven remained standing.

“You think I like this!?” roared the Paladin, a hand pressed against his chest. “You think I like how my town is treating these people? People like me? I’m trying to make their lives better!”

“By pretending that they’re dead and forcing them start again somewhere else!” roared Wood. There was a sound of creaking metal. Red, burning veins crawled out from Cindarc’s gauntlet and began to seep into the handaxe.

There was some personal pain in his words. Effectively being banished from his loving home and mother all to preserve the Bladebreaker came with its own baggage. Though many in the school knew who Wood should be and what he was, rumors and hearsay couldn’t touch Olivia Bladebreaker’s reputation. She had lost her husband and had unofficially cut ties with her son. What Wood did had no bearing on Olivia or her empire.

But like Ven, he was trapped.

Trapped by his respect and affection for her… and by his own actions.

The world basically pretended that he was dead and that the ‘Wood Bladebreaker’ that was attending Pinnacle and lived with the Clarkes was an entirely different Draconis to the one that Olivia had borne.

“And what’s wrong with that!?” roared Ven. “What’s the alternative!? We fight? We cause a disruption that ends up ruining more people’s lives!? We bring Sveltholm to a screeching halt of protests, looting and violence just so that we can be heard!? How will that change people’s minds!?”

Wood straightened, spreading his wings threateningly. Acid was dripping from his fangs. “It won’t but at the very least you’re not brushing everything under the rug like a fucking coward and pretending it doesn’t exist.” He pointed an accusing finger at Ven. “You’re no better than that slimy mayor. ‘Cleaning up’ the streets and taking advantage of the situation just so you can feed your own need to be a hero.”

“You take that back! I am nothing like Langley!”

“No…” Wood snarled, lifting his nose. “You’re way worse. At least Langley knows what he is. You deny it. Ford would be disappointed.”

That spark in Ven’s eyes erupted into a full on blaze.

Ven threw his head back, clutching the sides of his head and let out a soul-shattering roar. Dark energies erupted from his Valor, shooting out in all directions and shaking the very chamber they stood in.

He was Falling.

But that could still be avoided.

JD slipped into the Machine, the dark, crumbling underground sanctuary being replaced by the golden cathedral of cogs that was Haamiah’s throne.

He turned towards the series of cogs that represented the events that had just transpired. “Ven Fell because, for the first time, someone called him out on his hypocrisy.” Shaking his head, JD concluded, “I don’t think he knows he was being contradictory. It just took another perspective to put it into view… and I think he realized it too and it crushed him.”

JD folded his arms as he began rewinding time. “Wood was a little brutal and heavy handed with how he delivered the news but I guess it worked.” Tilting his head to the side, he said to himself, “Ven’s Valor, Liberation, is kind of ironically named. He’s seen as this face of freedom both from the general populace of Sveltholm and to those that are oppressed. But he’s just trapped himself in the expectations of both parties. He thinks that he’s free because he has the power to change people’s lives but whether he likes it or not, he’s trapped between two opposing forces.”

He held up his left paw. “The general people of Sveltholm who expect him to preserve everything as is. The people who think that he follows their doctrine and expectations simply because they assume that since he is pride and joy of their township, he must epitomize every value that they do.”

Holding up his right paw, he said, “And then there are the oppressed who see him as their savior. Being gay himself and loving another man, he empathizes with them and thanks to Ford’s influence he was able to establish this network. He saves them from passive-aggressive discriminatory acts of the average person.”

JD’s eyes narrowed. “But being trapped between those two is like being pulled in opposite directions. He’s strained and he’s fighting within himself. He’s trapped. But there’s another force pulling him, isn’t there?”

He glanced briefly over to Haamiah.

“Ford…” he concluded. “Makes me wonder…”

A soft ticking told him that he had reached the limit of how far he could turn back time and he turned back towards the cogs. His heart immediately plummeted.

“Oh no…”

The limit of his time-reversing abilities was ten minutes…

… and ten minutes before Ven fell was halfway through their trip through the tunnels.

JD stepped forward, as close to the cogs as he could get without actually passing through into Tower Thirteen.

“This is bad…” he breathed.

Wood was already with him at that point and already formed his opinions. There was no stopping the confrontation. The more he looked, the more he realized the melting pot that was forming in Wood the more Ven went on about his situation. The parallels between Wood’s own life versus Ven’s were uncanny and probably just as painful. Wood could very well have been one of the people Ven had saved.

A life that could have been taken away from him and his ‘death’ brushed under the rug without fanfare because it was just convenient.

“I’m so sorry, Wood,” JD sighed. “I wish I had recognized this sooner… Maybe it’s not too late…?”

He stepped into Tower Thirteen, ten minutes before Ven Fell.

“If only people who were born into their roles could be comfortable with who they were,” Ven mumbled. “Or at least society could accept them for how they were made.”

Wood once again opened his muzzle to argue but this time, JD didn’t stop him.

“You’re not doing any better,” rumbled the Green Draconis.

Ven whirled around, eyes sparking in fury. “Excuse me!?”

“Face it, Ven, how exactly are you helping the gay people of Sveltholm? You’re faking their deaths and telling them to start somewhere new. You’re not fixing Sveltholm. You’re enabling their bigotry!”

JD shook his head and stepped back into the Machine. “Damnit…”

Another attempt…

“If only people who were born into their roles could be comfortable with who they were,” Ven mumbled. “Or at least society could accept them for how they were made.”

Before Wood could speak, JD said, “Things can change. But I think the best way to bring about that change is to start the conversation instead of pretending that it isn’t an issue.”

Ven furrowed his brows at him. “What do you mean?”

“He means,” Wood snarled, “that you shouldn’t just be faking people’s deaths because they’re gay and enabling the people of Sveltholm!”

JD sighed. “Crap…”

Back into the Machine. He attempted the scenario multiple more times. Not just from the limits of his time traveling ability either. From the moment they stepped into the cavern, he tried to assuage Wood and reconcile with Ven but no matter what he did, the conversation still ended up the same; Wood would antagonize Ven, point out the equine’s hypocrisy and realization would lead to Ven’s Fall.

He was starting to think he just just bluntly ask Wood to stay back when…

“You cannot change everything.”

Haamiah still remained hovering over his throne but his voice carried well across the Machine.

“Are you saying that I can’t fix this?” JD challenged.

“No. There are scenarios where you manage to prevent Wood from saying something that could cause Vengeance Wren to Fall or prevent Ven’s Fall entirely. However, the question is: do you want to?”

“Huh?” JD waved his paws at the cogs. “Ven Falls and he’s endangering everything he’s worked towards. We’re playing right into Char’s hands.”

A realization dawned on him.

“Oh shit… We played right into Char’s hands.”

He glanced towards the cogs once more. “Char… He purposefully let Ven go so that he’d come here… but he wasn’t planning on endangering the people he saved. He was relying on us to do something stupid and cause Ven to Fall. We’re to blame.”

“Yes. And?”

JD narrowed his gaze, paws balling into fists. “So the games continue. Char really does think on many levels.”

“In many ways, the two of your are similar. Char has died multiple times, inhabiting the bodies of his hosts and absorbing their Spirit. Such an experience gives him a unique perspective. Much like you.”

“I hate the idea of the two of us being similar,” he mumbled. “But can’t deny you’re wrong.”

“And that is where you differ.”

JD gave the god a puzzled look.

“You die and reset the timeline because of mistakes you acknowledge. Char does not. Everything goes according to his plan. Or at least he deludes himself into believing so. When one does not make a mistake, one cannot grow.”

“So you’re saying I should accept my mistakes and learn from them.” A soft smile touched JD’s lips as he turned back towards the cogs and gears twisting in front of him. “A mistake, like, say causing Ven to Fall.”

Holding his head up bravely, JD stepped back into the Machine…

“You take that back!” Ven roared, the entire chamber shaking. “I am nothing like Langley!”

“No…” Wood snarled, looking down his nose at Ven. “You’re way worse. At least Langley knows what he is. You deny it. Ford would be disappointed.”

Vengeance Wren Fell… and this time…

JD did nothing.

Shallow Burial

The quiet of the room was calming and allowed Skye to meditate.

Once again, he was seated beneath the Soultree at the center of his room, legs crossed and with his palms facing upwards. Breathing was slowed, heart calmed and only the quiet of ambient natural sounds echoing in against the walls.

A few books sat around him. Tomes on various forms of Spiritual Pyromancy. The practice was not dissimilar to how Miasmans prepare their spells but whereas Miasmans converted energy from spirits into the spell they wanted, Spiritual Pyromancy tapped into the collective belief of other practitioners to summon predefined spells. A Miasman shaman, for instance, could weave any energy into something they wanted but Pyromancy Shamans would reach out to their Totems to cast their spells.

What he read approached the two dominant Totems from both a scientific perspective and a more theological angle from the view of Shamans. Scientifically speaking, the texts posited that the Totems were nebulous ‘greater spirits’ created from the collective belief of the shamans. Basically, because the shamans practiced and created spells that were based around these Totems, their own spiritual imprint on the land created the Totems. From the shamanistic view, it was simply suggested that the Totems had always existed.

“They were created because of us.”

Skye grimaced in agitation, trying to ignore the voice. He took a deep breath, focused on himself and listened to the spirits directly within his room.

“We Great Spirits were called by these shamans and they twisted our existence into their own beliefs. They invoke our name without knowing it.”

Skye’s eyes snapped open and he hesitated a moment upon seeing the entity in front of him. Then irritation filled him. “Okay,” he growled, fangs bared. “There must be a reason you’ve decided to talk to me directly now. What is it?”

“So you can hear me,” hissed the ethereal entity. The creature that had been scratching at the edges of his consciousness since the attack on Pinnacle had finally deigned to talk to him the moment he had stepped back into his room after Kane’s outburst. “Few have ever shown such disrespect to a Great Spirit and lived.”

“And what exactly is a Great Spirit?” Skye demanded.

“If a spirit is the imprint you mortals place upon the land that coalesces into budding intelligence, what do you think a Great Spirit is?”

“I don’t know. More of those lesser spirits coming together to form an even greater intelligence?”

Skye was very well aware that if any of his comrades came in at this point and saw him talking to nothing at all, he would be deemed crazy. However, in his customized room, he could very clearly see the smoky, shadowy creature that was hovering over him. The entity looked like a large, gray cloak that was billowing in some unfelt wind vaguely shaped like a humanoid. From around the cloak’s neck emerged a plume of smoke that spread about two feet and tapered off into nothingness. Two, blazing, coal-like eyes burned within the ‘face’ of the cloud.

“No. We Great Spirits were created from the imprints of Gods on the land.”

Canting an ear in curiosity, Skye said, “Okay. And why have you suddenly reached out to me?”

“Primarily because I sensed your great potential. During that raid on your flying campus, you performed a great feat of spirit magic that caught my attention. When I looked closer, I realized you had been touched by the one that had created me. The God of Fire.”

Furrowing his brow, Skye said, “Adramalech?”

“Indeed. He reached out to you. Spoke through you. It was brief but you have set foot in the Burning Throne and felt his essence through you. Am I wrong?”

Thinking back to that brief moment when he had been thrown into that hellish landscape with the others, he recalled the overwhelming power that had taken over his entire body. There was nothing he could do as the words of Char’s prophecy came spilling out of his muzzle even though he was still very much aware of his surroundings. A prisoner in his own body.

“No… I remember that.”

“Then you may be the one to help me. Help us.”

Skye brought his attention back to the entity. “And what do you want exactly?” he asked guardedly. “Every spirit I have ever encountered has never had sentience. How do I even know you are who you say you are and not just one of Char’s tricks.”

The Great Spirit became agitated at the sound of the Custodia Goetia’s name. Its billowing cloak ruffled in agitation, the smoke coming from its head thrashing while its blazing red eyes burned in aggravation.

“Do not associate me with that soulless abomination. It is because of Char and the Custodia Goetia that I am reaching out to you.”

Without saying a word, Skye nodded and waited for the Great Spirit to explain. It introduced itself as Yvanir the Great Spirit of Smoke. It and the others like it were created from many of Adramalech’s greatest acts on Incendius. Whenever the God of Fire performed a great miracle, a Great Spirit was born not only from the God’s own impact on the mortal realm but also from how mortals perceived those acts and carried them into legend. Yvanir, in particular, was created from Adramalech’s greatest deceptions particularly around the tale of the Brave Farmer.

“Wait,” Skye interrupted, holding up a paw. “You’re telling me the Brave Farmer was Adramalech? The God of Fire?”

“No. Tell me what you know about the Sunshadow War.”

Skye recited what he had learned from the texts. Eons ago, the Darkened - a race of pale creatures originating from the south - sought to bring darkness across Incendius. At the time, the Sun Spire did not exist so the people of Incendius depended on various forms of light and fire to survive. The Incendian Mainland was a cold, desolate land that was mostly covered in snow. The Darkened advanced north and attempted to snuff out all life on the mainland.

The Brave Famer, an acolyte of Apollia the Sun Goddess, mustered the remaining troops of Incendius and with a legendary blade - Bloodfyre - he pushed the Darkened south past the walls of the Chillfarn mountains where he sacrificed himself to end their assault once and for all. In her sadness for the loss of her greatest champion, the Sun Goddess erected the Sun Spire and sat atop it, creating the light that bathes most of Incendius’ populated lands.

Yvanir chuckled at this.

“How the Church has twisted history.”

“I’m curious what your version would be,” Skye responded diplomatically.

“Gladly.”

Without warning, Yvanir’s entire form spread, reaching to the corners of the room and engulfing everything in a murky, gray haze. Skye was immediately up on his feet. There was a complete absence of spirits around him save for the powerful presence of Yvanir. He couldn’t reach out to the Great Spirit and borrow and of its power. This was a spirit was that was sentient and fighting him.

He was helpless.

“Firstly, the Darkened are not a race.”

There was a rush of wind right into his face. The smell of ash and burning wood flooded into his nostrils forcing him to turn away from the scent. That was when he saw, through the murk, a little white flame. The flame grew bigger or rather… the scene zoomed in on the flame.

A campfire. Huddled around it were several tall, powerfully built men and women of all species. Unlike others Skye had ever seen before, however, their skin and fur were pale and their eyes an icy blue. No matter what their species - Draconis, Wulfun, Tigris, human - all of them had the same coloration.

“They were a tribe of people. Back during those times, when these lands were indeed mostly covered in darkness, the people huddled in these tribes. In fact, the ‘Totems’ you have studied and the tribes that created them descended from the various tribes from those ancient times. The Darkened - better known as the Klunth’Mur-Dah Tribe - sought to unite the people of the mainland under a singular banner to help one another survive the everlasting winter.”

One of the largest members of the pale creatures, a tall, white-scaled Draconis reached for the campfire, picking up one of the larger logs. The man straightened and stood, lifting the light and bringing the eyes of others up to him.

“This was after the War of the Wings. You know what that is, do you know?”

Skye nodded. This was the supposed war during the time of legends and when the gods walked the earth. The Phoenixes were the first species that Adramalech created and the Avios were created afterwards to be subservient to the Phoenixes. The Avios eventually rebelled and caused the extinction of the Phoenixes.

“So some truth does remain,” chuckled Yvanir. “At least a modicum of it. The War is not exactly as you know it but that is irrelevant.”

More acrid smoke was blown into Skye’s face, forcing him to turn to the left. In that direction, he saw a brilliant light emanating from the distance. From the glowing horizon, several avian figures emerged. They were humanoid in shape, much like Avios, but unlike the Avios, these creatures had wings sprouting from the small of their back.

“The ambition of the Phoenixes brought them from their ancestral homelands - what you now call the Sunless Lands - to the Incendian Mainland. They inhabited the much larger continent which was already inhabited by people who had evolved to the dim light. People who grew to have pale flesh and blue eyes. Not quite the Darkened but their ancestors. It was a peaceful transition.”

The men and women bearing the white flames approached the Phoenixes who were approaching from the dawn. The avians held up a tongue of red flame in their palms, offering it to the Darkened as a peace offering. The moment the flame was received, the surrounding darkness was dispelled. Rolling, verdant hills were revealed. A clear blue sky and distant, thriving forests appeared from the darkness.

“The Phoenixes taught the natives of the land how to cultivate their land. No longer was there an endless winter where the people were forced to struggle and suffer for what little scraps they could find. But it would not last long.”

Shadowy figures appeared behind the Phoenixes. They brutally reached out and grabbed the Phoenixes’ wings and tore them from their spines. Distant screams echoed from the direction where the brilliant dawn came from. The Phoenixes crumbled to the ground, their bodies dissolving into black dust.

“When the War of the Wings occurred, however, the Phoenixes, the greatest Pyromancers in history, were wiped out. Incendius was once again brought to darkness.”

The red flame in the Darkened’s hand went out and as it did so, the grass beneath his feet turned brown, withered and died. A consuming darkness spread out from the dying plants and before long, they were plunged back into that ever-present darkness.

“An economy based entirely around the Phoenixes’ magic suddenly collapsed. There was not enough fire or experts in fire magic to warm crops or keep everyone healthy. The entire nation had become dependent on fire. Before, there was just enough food to maintain the meager population they had established as distant tribes. When the Phoenixes arrived, the prosperity they introduced caused the population to boom. With their fire gone, there was no enough food or a means to produce it. What precious few Pyromancers remained were fought over.”

In the distance, there were little bursts of flame. Wars over the flame. A breeze blew Skye’s gaze back to the sole, white-scaled draconis. He hadn’t noticed it before but this man never let go of that torch holding the white flame.

“The Darkened King realized that he needed to unite the scattered people to consolidate their strength.”

Slowly, other people began gathering behind the Darkened, each of them hoisting their own torch of fire fire. The number grew larger and larger with each passing second. They marched and though they seemed to be moving through the Darkness, Skye remained a step ahead, seeming scrolling ahead of them without moving his feet.

“They swept across Incendius, uniting the tribes under a singular host and completed their conquest. That was when they sought a way to bring back the light.”

The march abruptly stopped and that was when a brilliant red flame erupted from behind Skye. The young shaman turned around and gawked. A towering figure - taller than even the Sun Spire - loomed over him. It seemed vaguely avian, incredibly muscular but possessed four arms and two pairs of wings.

The God of Fire, Adramalech.

“The Darkened King and three others managed to make it to where Corona now sits. He entreated the God of Fire. Give them fire once again and they will swear their fealty to his worship. But Adramalech, heartbroken and having learned of his lesson from the Phoenixes, would not enslave another race to his worship.”

A young woman stepped forward. She was human, pale and - of course - with icy blue eyes. White wings sprouted from her back. In one hand she held a black mace with a head that looked like a lantern. The weapon’s head was engulfed in white flames and as she passed a few of the Darkened, she held the mace over some of their unlit torches, giving them light.

Skye realized who this was.

“Apollia…”

“Indeed. The Scorium Axis is no Valor. It was a weapon crafted during the golden age of firelight. Adramalech saw this and hatched a plan. He made a deal with her and the Darkened she championed. Give up her mortal existence and become an ever-present source of light for the Station. Along with the three others, they would create a mask. A new cult. One not directed at Adramalech but one empowered by the God of Fire. They were free to draw his power as they saw fit and he would not intervene in their lives unless it was necessary. However, these four champions would forever bear this deception. Immortal and unwavering. Should any of them ever waver, the covenant would be broken and fire would once again be taken from Incendius.”

The woman knelt and so did the rest of the Darkened race.”

“They agreed.”

Skye tilted his head to the side. “But wait… if the Darkened agreed to this, why are they still raiding Chillfarn and trying to take over?”

“Are they?” chuckled Yvanir. “Again, how history has been twisted in these times. I am willing to bet you believe the Vampiri and Lupus were created to combat the Darkened too, correct?”

Skye felt like he was a cub again being lectured. “They… weren’t?”

“Meditate on what I said. Apollia and three others were made custodians of this covenant. Now what does your history say? You know full well that the Vampiri and Lupus kings, Phalgymr and Leandros are effectively immortal. Stories would say they were created with the help of Chronomancy. Chronomancers did not exist during the Sunshadow War so how could they have existed since then?” Yvanir shook his head. “No. They are two of the other guardians of this covenant. Hence their name was the ‘Custodia’.”

Another blast of smoke turned Skye’s gaze up to the towering God of Fire. “The last of these is the Darkened King, Illumian. Adramalech gave Illumian the Talon of the Fire God and entrusted him to carry it across the mainland to the south what you now know as the Darkened lands. There is sat as a sign of the covenant.”

The scene vanished. Instead, there stood a single man with pale skin and blue eyes. Indistinct and seemingly quite plain but in his hand was a burning red sword. Beside this man stood three others. Apollia was one of them. Another was the elegant and lithe Lord of the Vampiri, Phalgymr and the third was the towering, hulking beast that was the Lord of the Incendian Werwolves, Leandros. Apollia turned her back to Skyesuddenly exploded into a brilliant burst of light. From the light, the enormous Sun Spire spawned from the ground. Suddenly, the landscape was once again bathed in light even though it was bathed in ash and snow.

“Apollia was ignited and the light reached most of Incendius. Illumian trekked south with FireFeather_._”

Now leading the march, Illumian, the supposed Brave Farmer, melted the snow wherever he went, revealing the grass beneath and peeling back the darkness.

“Along their march, the Darkened King built colonies and cities. Discourse and ambition would eventually shatter the once-united nation. Over the course of history, the people of the mainland broke off into separate identities. Civil war eventually broke out as many attempted to take control of the Sun Spire_._”

Ash, fire and war split across the land just a few feet from where Illumian marched. More and more of the people trailing him peeled away, either turning upon one another or running off into the horizon. Few remained following the Brave Farmer. When the Darkened King eventually stopped, most of the land was consumed by flame.

“Traditionalists remained to the south where they protected FireFeather_. They purposefully recalled the heat from the weapon, surrounding their cities in constant blizzards, darkness and snow to prevent anyone from invading their lands._”

Darkness and cold wrapped around the the Brave Farmer and his few followers but it never touched them. The ground remained fertile and warm where they stood but everywhere else was consumed by the blizzard.

“Those are the Darkened you know and there they stay to this day, blissfully unaware or uncaring of the politics that occur beyond their borders.”

Skye shook his head. “Honestly, that sounds absurd.”

“Would you like to hear what is more absurd? That a group of magical darkness-loving, icy demons would somehow be kept back back a wall of steel and werewolves and a Church that has command of starships capable of traversing the Void did not come and wipe out this supposed hostile race before.”

The Tigris shaman flinched. “Erm… ah… Good… point…”

“Your Church, particularly under the leadership of the Eternal Prophet, already made regular contact with the Darkened. He visited them and their cities often particularly after one of the Chronomancers once tried to destroy them during the Purge of Time. The Church and your military purposefully leave the Darkened and maintain this deception for some reason or another.”

From the blizzard, two figures stepped into the company of the Brave Farmer… only the Farmer was no longer there. He was replaced by the towering, white-scaled Draconis who held the blood-red sword in his hands. Those figures… were none other than Lumire the Eternal Prophet and Harm Chronos, the Last Chronomancer.

Skye shook his head. That last imagery seemed completely absurd. He would have believed most of what Yvanir said or at least given it some real thought but that last image… it cast everything he said into doubt.

“Okay… Thanks for the information. I’ll be sure to consider it.” He gestured at the still scene before him. “Still, doesn’t answer my question. What are you and why did you suddenly decide to contact me?”

“I was created from Adramalech’s actions during the Sunshadow War. He influenced the very course of history and changed the very landscape of Incendius. As for why I am contacting you… It is because the Custodia Goetia are making a move against the Sun Spire.”

Skye went rigid. “What? What do you mean?”

The scene before him was completely consumed by the blizzard for all of five seconds. The piercing light of the Sun Spire cut through the cold, bringing his attention to the distance. He saw Corona… and a creeping darkness reaching up from the outer walls towards the Sun Spire like a thousand black tentacles trying to crawl its way up to the crown.

“Char the Cleanser as he is called, is moving upon Corona. My home. You are the only one I know that has the power or sensitivity to hear me. So I am beseeching you. I am warning you that Char will soon fall upon the city.”

Skye balls his paws into fists. “Alright. Thanks for the warning. I’ll tell the others and -”

“There is one other thing.”

He paused and regarded the Great Spirit. “What is it?”

“The prophecy. The phrase about echoes of sins past shall fuel its resurrection.”

For a second, Skye had to fight through his memories to recall that line. The moment he did, the dots started connecting. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Oh… Oh no… That’s talking about you! About the Great Spirits!”

Yvanir seemed to nod. “We do not know what the Goetia intend but they constantly recite this prophecy. It did not take long for myself and the other Great Spirits to realize that they somehow intend us to perhaps fuel Adramalech’s resurrection.” The Great Spirit was thoughtful for a second. “This… does not align. Adramalech is not dead. However, we suspect what the Goetia intend is to force Adramalech back to this plane and craft a cage of some sort to entrap him. Perhaps to enslave him to force them to do his bidding.”

Running through the entirety of the prophecy in his mind, Skye could see those suspicions gaining merit. Could the Custodia Goetia potentially use the Great Spirits to somehow summon Adramalech. If the Great Spirits of Incendius were made from the Fire God’s greatest actions on the Station, it could be possible to use that link to drag him from wherever he was slumbering back to the mortal realm. The rest of the prophecy must have something to do about enslaving the deity.

Suddenly, the Goetia became so much more dangerous.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“Find me,” Yvanir began to fade. “I can only commune with you when you are focused like this. When you wake, convince your comrades to come to the Sun Spire_. Stop Char. Then, when all is said and done, travel beneath the tower to the Underspire. Find me there._”

Skye tilted his head to the side. “Wait… What do you mean ‘when I wake’. I’m not -”

The tiger suddenly opened his eyes, snorting awake. It took him a second to reorient himself as he found that he was once again squatting in the middle of his room and not standing and halfway to the door. Gazing around himself in confusion, there were no signs of the Great Spirit.

He had to wonder if it was all a dream.

Then the quakes started.

Spirits were screaming at him. Danger. Pain. Evil.

He jumped to his feet and charged out of his room just as the entire Godslayer II shook once more. For a second, he was thrown to the side but he quickly summoned the spirits within Fleeting Dream, activating the bangles and enabling him to hover in the air. A short distance away, Rayne was thrown against a wall. Below him down in the mess hall, Alex and Solinium were grappling with a few of the tables - thankfully bolted to the floor - though the pieces of the board game they were playing were strewn onto the ground.

“What the hell is going on!?” barked Kane, emerging from his room with only a jockstrap around his waist. Tanar was right behind him, strangely dressed down to just his pants.

Skye had no time to question the scene as another quake rocked the entire ship.

Hunter’s voice exploded from the speakers.

“There’s… earthquakes! Coming straight from the middle of Sveltholm! I… I can’t explain it! I’m starting the engines! Everyone hang on!”

Skye’s eyes widened as the spirits’ words came in cleared. “Oh no…” he breathed. “It’s Ven! He’s Fallen!”

?

Enshrined Doom

A tremendous creature exploded from the middle of Sveltholm. The beast was at least five storeys tall and appeared to be a very muscular, very thick turtle only there were what appeared to be huge, silver spikes in the shape of grave markers embedded into its shell. Black chains were wrapped around its arms and led down to two, large coffins that were dragging beneath it.

The beast had just emerged from the middle of the town from what appeared to be a sinkhole. An entire cavern was revealed one that seemed… populated. There were tents strewn about and… bodies.

The people of Sveltholm stared. From where they could stare into the sinkhole, they saw their hero Vengeance Wren standing at the feet of the titanic creature, looking absolutely angry while an angry, dark aura emanated from him. In front of Ven was a Green Draconis and a red-furred Wulfun.

“Shit…” Wood mumbled, casting his gaze around. His eyes fell on the people that Ven once tried to rescued. It was not a pretty sight. There were a few survivors… but just a few. “I didn’t think this through…”

“It’s okay, Wood,” JD said gently, touching his arm.

“No,” he grimaced, pulling his arm away. “JD… Ven Fell because of what I said! I goaded him and all these people are…”

Another familiar voice pierced through their private conversation.

“Dead!”

Both of them turned as one of the men that had been injured stood up despite a clearly broken leg and blood trailing down his face. An all-too familiar ear-to-ear grin split across his face.

“They’re dead because you couldn’t stop projecting your own pain and anxiety onto dear Ven!”

“Char!” JD snarled, hackles raised.

The possessed body abruptly caught on fire, causing Wood to flinch. As he had seen at Shimmersea, Char peeled away the burning flesh of the body he was inhabiting, revealing his own fully-dressed form beneath. Sveltholm citizens gasped in horror while even Ven was shaken by the gruesome appearance.

Char kicked the last chunk of burnt flesh from his feet and grinned widely at Wood.

“I could not have wished for a better outcome!” laughed the Goetia. “You played your part perfectly, young Bladebreaker! You caused Vengeance Wren to Fall!”

Guilt and horror gripped Wood’s heart, so much so that he actually reached up and held his chest. He could feel the terrified stares of the Sveltholm citizens on him and the accusatory one from Ven burning holes into the back of his head.

Deja vu hit him.

Just like when he Fell.

Horror across his mother’s face. Skye and Kane petrified with fear, staring at him in shock. And JD… JD lying bleeding on the floor. The only comfort he took was that his friend was not crippled and dying this time.

“What was it like?” laughed Char. “Accusing someone who was trying to do something noble of being selfish and trapped? Of being a hypocrite just because he didn’t fit into your sense of justice and equality?”

Is that what happened? Did… Did he really just try to shove his ideals down Ven’s throat and in the process cause Ven to confront facts that he was perfectly fine ignoring? Was it better to live in a stagnant stasis that worked than to Fall because of failed progress? Was the reason that Char purposefully let Ven go because he knew he couldn’t break the horse but only someone like Wood could cut through Ven’s impenetrable armor?

Someone arrogant enough to think that he knew better?

Above them, the roar of the Godslayer’s engines filled the air. Char looked up, grinning at the ship and spreading his arms wide.

“Welcome!” bellowed the Goetia. “Welcome to your finest moment! The moment when you shattered a peaceful equilibrium with your meddling!”

“Asshole!” Wood roared, fighting through his guilt. “You manipulated us!”

“Me?” laughed Char, dramatically pressing a few fingers against his chest. “What did I do? Ven escaped from my grasp. It was his choice to come back here. It was his choice to continue whatever it was he was doing here. It was your choice to intervene and accuse him of seeking comfort in the stagnation that he created for himself. I didn’t say a single word! That was all you!”

Char threw his head back, laughing maniacally. “And now you have brought me closer to my goal! I just need to take Vengeance’s Phantasm and then I just have one more to claim and my plans will be nearly complete!”

Suddenly, there was a rush of stones and earth that swept right past Wood.

“Like hell!” Ven cried, charging at Char, seemingly surfing on a rolling wave of rock that sped towards the Goetia.

The tremendous Phantasm lurched forward, reaching for Char -

A piercing scream tore through the air. Wood was forced to his knees while Ven was knocked clear off his trajectory. Requiem had appeared behind Char, singing and strumming her harp-like feathers. Above them, both of Alleria’s Phantasm - the icy Shiver and the burning Pyre - had appeared and was restraining the enormous turtle’s fist.

“How so very naive,” chuckled Char, his voice still carrying over Requiem’s earsplitting song. “I was capable of defeating all of you before but now that I have a few Phantasms within my grasp, you are nothing but insects to me.”

Char made a sweeping gesture with his fingers. Ven’s armor was pulled into the air, carrying the heavy equine with it until he was just within arm’s reach of Char. The Goetia rested his hand against the armor.

“Now I will claim what is mine.”

There was a boom like thunder and a brief flash from above. Char made a quick, flick of his other wrist and the enormous explosive slug from the Godslayer slammed into the nearby cavern wall.

“Don’t think I would fall for that trick again,” he laughed.

Requiem stopped her singing and suddenly spread her wings, launching at the Godslayer. There she began singing again and Wood could only guess that her voice incapacitated the crew. Thanks to the distance, those on the ground were not affected though their ears still rang. Wood tried to shake the incessant sound from his ears but his legs were still weak as gelatin.

Char traced a few lines across Ven’s armor. “You were honestly a challenge, Vengeance. So stoic. So resistant. Nothing I could say or do could break you as easily as I broke Alleria or Melody. But I broke them easily. So of course…” He chuckled to himself and made a closing gesture with his hands. Ven screamed as his corrupted armor, Liberation seemed to constrict him. “… I had to up the ante.”

Ven bore his teeth, fighting against the pain. “G - G - Grave!” he shouted. “Kill this bastard!”

The enormous turtle lurched forward with his other fist. Pyre launched at it, slamming into the limb and causing the enormous amphibian to become unbalanced. At the same time, Ven tried to take a swing a Char but the Goetia merely swatted the blows aside with ease.

“Imprisoned by obligation,” chortled Char. “Strengthened by the belief that what you were doing was making a difference. All until it was finally revealed that you were doing nothing. Everything you did, all that effort you put into Sveltholm, all of it was worthless. And now… You are broken.”

Ven tried to take another swing but there was no effort in it. He was defeated. His spirit was gone. Wood saw that. He had broken the Paladin’s spirit and that was why he Fell. There was no rage or self-hatred like Alleria or guilt and feeling of hopelessness like Melody. Ven was just… broken.

“Ven!”

The shout came from the strangest of sources… JD.

“Take off your armor!”

Char threw his head back and cackled maniacally. “You think it’s that easy? Liberation is part of him. More so now that he has Fallen! Observe!”

He again closed his fists tighter and Ven gagged, his limbs going rigid as the armor around his chest tightened around his body. It was just like when Alleria and Melody’s Sins rebelled against them. Controlled by Char, they would kill him!

“Not that one!” JD shouted. “Tear down your walls! Only you can do it!”

Wood stared at his friend in surprise. Even though JD was down to one knee and one eye shut, the one blue eye that was open shone with a ferocity that even gave Char pause.

“You’ve built these barriers around you to keep people from seeing that you’re capable of making mistakes! It’s built from everyone’s expectations of you! But you have to tear them down! The only person suffocating in that self-made prison is you and only you can let yourself out!”

Ven shut his eyes. “I… I c-c-can’t!”

JD shakily got to his feet, a paw against his chest. “Then let me… If you’ll let me.”

The equine grit his teeth. “Y - Y - you…?”

The Red Lightning nodded and lifted his gaze up to the citizens of Sveltholm. Cupping his paws over his muzzle, he shouted, “Ven is suffering and it’s all of your fault!”

Char visibly flinched. “What…?”

“What…?” Wood echoed.

In the moment when Char’s grip weakened around Ven, the horse was able to utter, “Excuse me, what?”

Encouraged now that he had the attention, JD continued. “You’ve all put your expectations on him. Made him out to be this perfect role model. The very epitome of your city. Someone that has to live up to your expectations because he’s born here and its staunchest protector. So he’s felt that he’s had to live up to that impossible image. And I’m not just talking about you people who idolize him. I’m talking about those of you that hide in the shadows and seek out his help to escape the torment the rest of the city puts you through!”

“JD! No!” cried Ven.

Char giggled. “Oh please, JD, continue.” He grinned at Ven. “Let’s see him out you to the rest of the world and see how your ‘armor’ takes it.”

Slowly, JD opened his other eye and that intense stare caused Char’s lips to waver slightly. The smile instead transfered to JD and the Wulfun threw Char a knowing, smug smile.

Turning to Sveltholm, he began.

“You know what’s been happening in town. People have been disappearing. You all know who have been disappearing.” He paused briefly, glancing from face to face. “Homosexuals. Men who sleep with men. Women who bed other women.”

JD nodded. “Ven set up an entire network that saved the people that were being tormented and set them up elsewhere. He faked their deaths just so they could get a new start away from all of this. Isn’t that messed up? It was better to die than live as a homosexual in this town.”

A few murmurs spread across the citizenry.

Char leaned towards Ven, speaking loud enough for Wood and JD to hear but not those above them. “See? See their gazes upon you? See how that perfect image of yourself is breaking in their eyes and they see you for what you are? Flawed.”

“And it still wasn’t enough!” JD roared, catching Char’s attention. “Because we haven’t gotten to the root of the problem. Why are they hated in this town? Why is it that when one of them went missing and the instant it was revealed that he or she was gay none of you cared and just dismissed it as another casualty? Why is it that if you found yourself attracted to the same sex, you felt the compulsion to hide it from everyone else?”

“Yes,” taunted Char. “Why? Do you have a solution pup? Do you believe you can mend these people’s deep-seated prejudices with flowery words and an impassioned speech?”

“No,” JD answered, that smile still on his muzzle. “I can’t.”

Char’s brow began to furrow.

“But what I am doing is starting a conversation.”

It took a minute… then Char’s eyes widened in terror.

“See the problem with all this,” JD continued loudly, “is that no one was talking about it. Everyone was just assuming the worst. Going with the status quo because that’s how it’s always been. No one was talking. So long as everyone remained silent, the problem pretty much didn’t exist.” He winked at Char. “And what’s the first step to recovery, as they say? Just acknowledging that you have a problem.”

He raised his gaze up towards the people of Sveltholm. “And whether or not you deny it, whether or not you claim you are without blame, all of you need to realize that there is a problem here in Sveltholm.”

JD gestured at Ven. “Your Paladin Fell because none of you were willing to acknowledge this. He was shouldering the weight of keeping your entire society stable all by himself! He loves the town and its people so much that he was fighting to make everyone happy! But he was just treating the symptoms and not the disease! Now look what’s happened!”

The Red Lightning pressed his paws together. “I know you all admire Ven, too. He’s given so much to this town. Please, it’s your turn to protect him. Realize what he’s been doing for you.” He lifted up one paw, raising it into the air. “Then admit to yourselves that you can make mistakes. That you have made mistakes. So that Ven can stop trying to be perfect and live with his own.”

Silence.

Char’s grin returned shakily. “See? Flowery and impassioned speeched get you nowhere.”

Thunk.

The Goetia flinched and turned, rubbing the back of his bald head. Somewhere above him, a little girl glared down at him with a rock in her hand.

“Let him go!” she cried and threw another rock.

Char growled and lifted his hand towards her.

Thunk!

“Yeah! Let Ven go!” shouted someone else.

“I’m drunk and a whore but you are worse!” cried another.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Ven! We aren’t!” cheered a third.

Char was suddenly under assault from all directions by a rain of little projectiles. The Goetia was mostly annoyed and unharmed but it was the effect of JD’s words that shook him. Ven gazed at the reaction to the crowd, tears welling up in his eyes. The Goetia’s grip on his Sin wavered and suddenly faltered. Ven fell to the ground, the dark glow around his Sin fading.

Wood hobbled towards JD, leaning close to a whisper. “You didn’t out him.”

“Didn’t need to.” The Wulfun gave him a sidelong smile. “Ven’s problem wasn’t that he’s a gay man pretending to be the hero of a painfully straight town. His problem was that he was trapped by everyone’s expectations of him. The town’s ideals, the gay people of Sveltholm…” For a second, JD’s eyes narrowed. “… Ford’s…” Then he lifted his gaze as Ven rose to his feet. “Besides, no one deserves to be forcefully pulled out of the closet. He’ll make that announcement when he’s ready.”

Char scoffed, waving a hand absently. Shiver swung by and a wall of ice erupted around him, immediately forming a barricade that blocked the barrage of projectiles while leaving enough of an opening for Ven, JD and Wood to see him.

“This was disappointing,” he huffed. “I would have enjoyed seeing you pummel this insolent dragon and petulant wolf or least fight me with your Phantasm but I see I’m going to have to settle with just stealing Grave.”

He held out his hand towards Ven and the Equus convulsed. He screamed, falling to the ground and arching his back. Chains made of black and purple flames erupted from the behind Char, shooting towards the enormous turtle and wrapping around its limbs. Grave - the might Phantasm - let out a loud groan of defeat. Where the chains touched, its form seemed to disintegrate, a flurry of black dust swarming towards Ven.

“No!” Wood roared and he spread his wings, charging straight towards Char. He swung Cindarc only to notice, at the last minute, the strange red cracks all over it. The moment of distraction made him lose his momentum.

WHAM!

Pain exploded from his chest, Char’s fist twisting into his ribcage. It was like getting hit at full force with a bowling ball. Wood was hurled back, pain erupting from his chest and his vision blurring while blood exploded from his muzzle.

JD bolted past him, swinging Conflagration as he did so. The Red Lightning jumped into the air, fiery wings bursting from over his shoulders. He dove downwards - executing a Phoenix Charge. Crimson feathers exploded from his contact with Char and he immediately transitioned in a series of slashes and thrusts like he had practiced in school, each swing causing an eruption of flame. At the end of his combo, he somersaulted into the air, a spinning wheel of death. Then he brought his blades crashing back down to sweep over Char.

The Goetia didn’t even flinch or move from his ritual.

“I am Char the Cleanser!” barked the Goetia. “Did you honestly think any form of Pyromancy would be effective against me!?”

“No,” JD huffed. Then a grin crossed his features. “But it was enough to melt the ice behind you.”

Char’s eyes widened and he spun. Sure enough the barrier of ice he had created was partially melted. Enough for -

BAM!

A single bullet to come streaming down from the lip of the sinkhole and slam right in between Char’s eyes. Alexander Clarke quickly pumped the empty shell of Four Pack’s sniper rifle and -

BAM!

Fired again, this time taking out Char’s left eye.

The Goetia could only manage one last grin before falling to the ground.

Wood glanced upwards just in time to see the last of Grave’s essence fade away. He grunted and hurried over to Ven, kneeling beside his fellow Fallen.

“I… I feel…” breathed Ven. “Lighter…”

“Fuck…” the dragon cursed. “He took your Phantasm, didn’t he?”

Ven closed his eyes briefly… before nodding. “Yes… I think he did.”

Even though it was just mere minutes since Ven had first manifested his Phantasm, it was effectively his sins given manifest. To have that taken must have felt like his soul was being absolved by some divine power. Even Wood still felt the heavy weight of Vulcan every day. Much like those times when cringe-worthy memories would strike out of nowhere. Small comfort that Ven was freed from that.

Kind of.

It's Not Over

A stage had been hastily erected on the lip of the sinkhole. Sveltholm’s citizens were gathered in front with Mayor Langley standing at the podium. Beside him stood Vengeance Wren. A long and winding speech was delivered. Something about equality and fair treatment for all. It was all political grandstanding but Rayne believed that it at least started the conversation. This was a better solution to the entire ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ approach that the town had adopted for the longest time.

He had lived long enough to know that a period of turmoil and uncertainty was to follow. Those who were wronged might come back and demand compensation. Conservatives would fight the tide of change. Religion was likely to play a role in everything. Families might be turned on their heads while the greedy might find a way to capitalize on the rising developments.

Still, it was a step forward.

He watched quietly from the sidelines as Langley continued his speech, promising change. It was near the end of his speech, however, that he turned directly to Ven.

“… And to our dear protector, to Vengeance Wren, allow me to apologize on behalf of Sveltholm for the pressure that we have put you under. Our expectations - all of our expectations - of you came unjustly. We realize now that it was unfair to demand perfection of you when we, ourselves, were imperfect. To project our issues onto you and expect you to solve them. For that, we apologize and offer a promise that we will stand strong beside you and not drag you down.”

Those words could be interpreted in so many ways. It made Rayne’s stomach churn thinking how someone malicious could take the mayor’s words to say that they were ejecting Ven from his responsibilities as Sveltholm’s protector and patron. The wilder side of his imagination posited that they would clone Ven so that there were miniature versions of himself running around to ‘help’ the primary Fallen in his responsibilities or to be the perfect version that he couldn’t be.

But that was the cynicism in him.

For now, it was a case of waiting and seeing.

“We’re going to have to make sure the military watches this town closely,” he whispered quietly to Alex who was perched beside him. They both stood to the side of the stage, outside of the view of the general public but still within view of the stage itself. Most of the Godslayers were in the front seats of the crowd; guests of honor in some way. Hunter, Serena and Skye remained on the Godslayer preparing it for departure.

“I’ve already sent a memo to the Sunburst Knight,” answered Alex grimly. “This town has great economic significance to Incendius and I can just imagine someone doing something with that to fill in the power vacuum that Ven has left behind. Not to mention Char’s modus operandi.”

Rayne nodded grimly. Char had appeared from the body of one of the people Ven has rescued. That suggested that there was a sect of the Custodia Goetia here or at least sleeper agents. From what Melody had told them, Char could not invade people’s minds and could only take over those that let him in. So that man either gave his soul up to the observing Goetia as Ven was Falling… or he had already been a cultist.

There was a fanfare and the crowd cheered for a new age on Sveltholm. Ven left the stage in one direction - towards Rayne and Alex - while the mayor left in the other. Ven, surprisingly was not wearing his Sin. For the first time in his young life, the horse was not saddled with the burden of his Valor. Perhaps there was something to what Solinium said - Valors were not a gift from the Goddess for overcoming adversity, they were a challenge.

“How do you feel?” Alex asked.

“Apprehensive,” Ven answered, offering a shaky smile. “I’m… not sure where this road will lead. I’ve never been in this position before. The last time such a great change happened in Sveltholm, we kicked out our bandit overlords so…” He puffed out his cheeks and let out his breath slowly. “It is… new. But I think it’ll be good.”

“Glad to hear it.” Alex clapped Ven’s shoulder encouragingly. “We’re going to see if we can find Eaton and Ford. Char mentioned he only had one more Phantasm to claim after yours. One of those two could’ve been the victim.”

Ven lowered his gaze. “I wish I could go with you. I want to go with you. If only to find Ford but…” He rubbed his left bicep.

“You’re new to being a Fallen,” replied Rayne. “It’s an adjustment. Paladins have had to keep their emotions in check for a long time and anything that seeped out would always be absorbed by their Valor. Suddenly being emotional is… tough.”

“I feel like a teenager going through puberty again,” huffed Ven. “I am… full of angst and the need to do something. But the logical part of my mind tells me I need to wait… To gather my strength.”

“We’ve already notified the Inquisition. They’ll come and pick you up in a few hours and bring you to the Grey Sun Facility. They already have Alleria and Melody there for recovery. They’ll teach you all you need to know to control your new abilities.”

Ven offered a weak smile. “I appreciate it.” His features grew grim as he held up a hand. “Just one thing… When I was held by Char, you already know he took Ford first. Then it was Melody. Eaton and I were then separated.”

Rayne nodded. “Right, I figured.”

“But the only reason I was able to escape was because his attention was not on me.”

That fact slipped Rayne’s mind. Ven had described his escape to JD and Wood who recounted the events after the fight. The Equus had been pretty much neglected by Char which enabled him to make his escape.

“So… he was focusing on Eaton.”

Ven nodded grimly. “Eaton has always been the shining beacon of hope amongst out squad. Alleria was hot-headed and impulsive, Melody was the soothing voice of reason, Ford was cold and logical, I was stoic and generally took the brunt of anyone’s mistakes but Eaton… he was the one that maintained party morale. He was the one that would drag us out to drinks, social events or introduce us to others. He somehow knew someone everywhere we went. It was hard not to smile with him around.”

Alex crossed his arms thoughtfully. “I don’t know if someone like that would be easier or harder to break…”

“I don’t either,” answered Ven grimly. “But the fact that Char found his way here either means we interrupted him while he’s still tormenting Eaton or…”

“He’s done with the werewolf,” grunted Rayne. “Fuck…”

Ven pressed is hands together pleadingly. “Please find him. Eaton kept our squad together more so that Char ever did. To lose him entirely… I don’t think any of us could handle it.”

The Demon Prince with the ponytail nodded grimly. “We’ll find him. Rest assured.” He clapped Ven’s shoulder. “We’ll be on our way. Take care, Ven.”

They bid the Fallen goodbye and then headed back to the Godslayer. They met Wood and the others that had attended the ceremony halfway there and boarded the ship five minutes later. Rayne headed up to the cockpit where Hunter, Serena and Skye were in a heated argument.

“Please,” begged Skye. “We need to head to Corona immediately!”

“Why?” demanded Serena. “Because you got a vision from one of your ghostly friends?”

“They are not ghosts!” growled the Tigris angrily. “I… I can’t explain it. I just know that Corona is under attack and that is what Char is after!”

Rayne stepped forward, Templar Cassius Solinium right beside him.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Hunter, looking like he was caught between two opposing storms, gave him a look of relief. “Kind of a difference of opinion here. Serena wants to go to Clockwork to see if Eaton is there. Skye wants to return to Corona because he had a vision that the city is what Char is after.”

“A vision?” Solinium asked. “What kind of vision?”

“I was visited by a Great Spirit,” Skye explained. “He told me how Char was going after the Sun Spire for some reason and we needed to go there immediately after we solved the issue here.”

“Which I say is absurd,” countered Serena, looking incredibly frustrated. “No one has ever heard of a ‘Great Spirit’ let alone one called ‘Yvanir’ and while I give credence to the young shaman’s magical abilities, we can’t just go trusting any ‘vision’ that he receives especially when we have a dangerous Psychomancer like Char running around. How do we know that the imagery wasn’t just something Char gave to throw us off Eaton’s scent?”

“And what is the purpose of going to Clockwork?” demanded Skye. “The Inquisition is already there and from what I heard, they didn’t find any trace of him!”

“The Inquisition didn’t find any trace of Melody or Ven either and yet we found them.”

Rayne held up his hand, demanding silence. “Skye, Serena has a point. Char has shown that he is great at manipulating us. He barely lifted a finger to get us to cause Ven to Fall. Who is to say that this couldn’t be another of his manipulations?”

He glanced briefly towards Alex. “Ven just told us that he was able to escape because Char focused entirely on Eaton. He also described how Eaton was basically the squad’s light of hope. Someone like that doesn’t break easily. He also mentioned that he only had one more Phantasm to claim before his plans came to fruition.” Holding up a finger, he concluded with, “We know Ford was taken first so logically, Eaton would be the last person to remain standing. If we turned around to Corona now, we could be condemning Eaton to Falling.”

“But…” Skye began, his eyes wide pleadingly.

Solinium gently rested a paw on Skye’s shoulder. “Did Yvanir tell you anything else? Anything to make us believe that what he’s saying it the truth?”

Skye shook his head. “No… Just… he gave me a history lesson on Incendius and…” Then his eyes widened. “… and the truth about the Darkened.”

Rayne arched an eyebrow. “The truth?”

“Yes!” Skye was suddenly very animated. “The Darkened aren’t evil monsters from beyond the frozen wall of Chillfarn! They’re the original natives of the Incendian Mainland and that they journeyed here after the War of the Wings to entreat Adramalech to bring back the light that the Phoenixes left with when they were wiped out! Adramalech forged a covenant with them. He convinced four of the leaders of the Darkened to become the eternal keepers of the covenant! Those four are Apollia, Leandros, Phalgymr and Illumian of the Darkened”

Wary glances were exchanged and even Rayne, who was probably as old as Aria, glanced at the Angel warily. She returned a dubious gaze and helpless shrug. Skye was growing increasingly desperate.

“Let’s think about this logically,” continued the Leomian Templar. “How do we prove that?” His eyes went to Rayne then to Aria. “Out of everyone else where, I can only think of the two of you who could possibly have lived long enough to maybe have an inkling of this fact.”

Rayne shook his head helplessly. “Most of my time was spent in the Void. I had no interest in entering Tower Thirteen until recently.”

“But I know it is true,” began Aria, stunning everyone gathered.

Skye pounced at the opportunity and flung around, pointing at her. “Lumire and Harm! They visited the Darkened constantly!”

Rayne jerked his back in shock. “What…?”

“Yvanir asked the question how, even now, when the Church has starships and all this Pyromancy at its disposal, it didn’t go charging in and attacking the Darkened to wipe them out! And the answer is that the Church knew that they weren’t evil! Lumire knew! Harm knew! And they visited the Darkened constantly to keep up the treaty! And you knew about this!”

Aria was speechless for a moment. Then she shut her jaw with a ‘click’. “He’s telling the truth. We need to go to Corona.”

“What!?” Serena blurted.

“Lumire and Harm did indeed make frequent trips to the Darkened Lands,” Aria explained. “I’m not sure about the ‘truth’ of Adramalech’s deception or how Apollia was apparently a member of the Darkened tribe but I do know that my two friends understood that the Darkened Kingdom was not hostile to the rest of Incendius. The blizzards they create that obscures their lands are artificially created. They are just as good as depriving heat and light as creating it. They live in these magnificent domes where their cities exist protected from the outside world. I’ve visited them, in fact. They are a kind, sympathetic and peaceful people.”

Kane grunted. “Well fuck me… There goes my points in Incendian history.”

Rayne glared at her. “We’ll talk about this later. Clearly there’s still more that you’re hiding from us. However…” He glanced over to Skye. “That is enough to convince you that Skye is telling the truth and we should go to Corona?”

The Angel nodded firmly. “Yes. The existence of the Darkened and their role in keeping the balance on Incendius is a closely guarded secret by the Church. Only select members know the truth as well as the Generals.”

Rayne fought the urge to glance at Alex.

“Skye could not have known of it unless he got it from a reputable source,” continued Aria. “But cannot verify that the source could’ve been Char who somehow pried the knowledge for someone but if that’s the case, then we have bigger concerns such as how Char managed to learn this from long dead members of the Church or the Generals.”

Skye beamed happily. “So we’re going to Corona then?”

Rayne nodded, throwing an apologetic glance at Serena. She fumed at him. “Yes. Corona it is. Hunter…”

The silver Wulfun lifted his paws, grateful that the issue was resolved and headed towards the cockpit. The engines whirled to life a second later and the ship lifted away from Sveltholm. Serena huffed angrily and marched past Rayne and the others, storming by.

“Serena!” Solinium demanded.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Rayne said, slipping past him. “Someone try hailing Corona. It’s a big city. We can’t just go searching it from top to bottom. We need somewhere to start.”

He quickly followed Serena out of the bridge, past the conference room and finally caught up with her in the mess hall. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her back before she could escape further. She tried to twist away but his hold was strong.

“It’s clear you care about Eaton,” he insisted. “Probably more than you’re willing to admit. But there’s no point in saving him if the rest of the world burns to the ground.”

She whirled around to him, maroon eyes flaring up in fury. “So we should sacrifice him to save the rest of the world? Why should he die? Why not someone else who deserves it?”

“Careful,” he warned, finally releasing her. “Words like that can get you to Fall.”

She pursed her lips and gently massaged her wrists. “I know. I’m sorry. Just…”

Rayne pulled up a chair from one of the tables and sat down. Putting his years as a teacher to good use, he softened his tone and prepared to listen. “Tell me about Eaton.”

She sighed heavily and slumped into a nearby seat. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. In fact, she failed to speak up before another voice spoke up.

“Eaton Slater is basically her little brother,” Tanar proclaimed, stepping up and parking himself beside her. “She saved him when he was still human and he became infatuated with her. The Mother Goddess blessed him with a Valor, Comet, and entered the Paladin Academy. Serena was already Eaton’s senior at that point but they still trained together. He pushed himself to catch up to her to the point that they would graduate together.”

Rayne arched an eyebrow at her. “Eaton must have been really gifted if he was going to graduate an entire year early. I’ve rarely heard of Paladins of that caliber.”

“He was very talented,” sighed Serena, brushing aside a stray lock of hair. “Not only that, but he was driven. With motivation and raw potential, he was able to excel in everything he did. He dwarfed me in every aspect. He’s stronger, faster, smarter.”

A soft whistle came from Kane who slumped down on one of the tables, spreadeagled across the entire plane. “Damn girl. And he had the hots for you? Is that it? Why didn’t you settle down with that fluffy piece of lupine meat? He could’ve been one hell of a sugar daddy.”

Black ribbons sprang up from the ground and suddenly wrapped around Kane’s limbs and muzzle, binding him to the table.

“You’re getting really good at shutting him up,” Rayne told Tanar, black bolts of magic dancing from the Leomian’s fingertips.

“I’ve been hanging around him too long,” sighed Tanar. “The key is to make sure to silence his muzzle. That way he can’t throw you any innuendo.” Regarding Serena, he said, “They did eventually graduate together but not before Eaton professed his affection to Serena. She didn’t reciprocate those emotions and he took it harshly. So harshly, in fact, that he ran away to join the Custodia Lupus as one of their Paladins.”

There was a loud snap. Kane had somehow managed to free himself of his bindings. “Okay, firstly…” He threw a glance at a stunned Tanar. “… you’re into some kinky shit, kitty cat. I like it. Secondly…” Then he leaned towards Serena, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t return his affections because you couldn’t, could you?”

She didn’t respond and turned away from him.

“Because you were too jealous to love him,” Rayne concluded. “It must have hurt to have this lovestruck puppy showing so much talent and skill pining for you, telling you that he was doing it all for you when you knew you couldn’t hold a candle to his abilities.”

Serena took a deep breath and lifted her gaze, staring up at the ceiling of the mess hall. “It did. It hurt so much. The irony hurt even more. I saved him and likely inspired that little baker’s boy to become a Paladin. It was because of me that he set upon this path of excellence. Because of me that he became better than me.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why he constantly chose to befriend me, why he would show me how much he’s achieved and how he would excel at everything he did. Whenever he would boast that he was on the fast track to graduating alongside me, it stung. I thought he was genuinely just showing off and subtly telling me how incompetent I was.”

She wiped a tear away with the palm of her hand. “After I had experienced such things back at Mirecragg for being only half-Vampiri, it felt like divine irony that right when I had finally received recognition amongst my people for having a Valor, I was reminded of how mediocre I was by this child whom I had saved and was now so much better than I was.”

Sighing softly to herself, she placed her hands on her lap. “Then he confessed his love to me.”

Rayne tilted his head slightly. “And…?”

A dark laugh left her rosy lips and she held up a hand, forming a claw with it. “So many thoughts flew through my mind. I saw this opportunity to crush his heart.” She closed her fingers into a fist. “To break him. To take his affection and shove it down his throat. I would be his superior again. I wouldn’t have to regret saving him because for that brief instant, I ruled over him.”

Then she released her fingers. “But then… the words of the Last Chronomancer rang in my head.”

“Chronos?” Tanar asked.

She laughed softly. “Yes, Harm Chronos. He was the one that actually found me amongst the Vampiri and the one that first connected me with Nemesis.” She leaned back slightly, smiling peacefully to herself. “Back then, I was just this little girl, barely sixteen summers. Still an infant amongst the Vampiri. Anyone younger than thirty years are still considered children. You’re a teenager until you’re fifty and a barely functioning adult until you are a hundred years old.”

“Just how long do Vampiri fucking live!?” Kane blurted.

“One-hundred and fifteen years,” Tanar replied, causing Kane to throw him a puzzled look. “The Custodia Vampiri have a biology that could be considered a ‘genetic time bomb’. Their bodies are functionally equivalent to human adults by the time they are eighteen years of age. Same as most humans. However, they then enter a state of biological stasis until they are around thirty years of age where they don’t physically change. I guess you could say they remain teenagers until they are thirty years of age. Afterwards, they mature even more until they are fifty. From fifty to a hundred years of age, they enter their last period of stasis. They’d be considered like a human in their forties at that point. But the minute they hit a hundred years of age, their cellular structures start rapidly degrading like all that time in stasis begins breaking them down all of the sudden.”

“We call it the Twilight Years,” explained Serena. “A Vampiri’s body will literally develop all sorts of diseases and weaknesses rapidly over the course of a few years. The irony is that none of this will be outward. They will look like silver-haired, majestic, regal pictures of health but inwardly, they are dying rapidly. People claim that they look so graceful but that’s only because they can’t afford to move suddenly or they might snap a bone or bruise an organ.”

Kane grimaced. “Apollia’s flaming tits… I don’t know if I would rather develop that shit over my middle-age or everything to just hit me like a hammer like that all at once.”

Rayne waved the topic away. “It’s debatable. Anyway, Serena, you’re saying Harm was directly involved in giving you your Valor?”

She nodded. “Yes. I believe he was visiting Lord Phalgymr for some reason. Usually all of the meetings amongst the nobility is held in the underground of Mirecragg but for some reason, on one night, he was out on the surface. I was out fetching some water for the orphanage and we met. I guess…” She chuckled softly to herself. “I guess he saw something in me because next thing I knew, he was bringing me to Phalgymr’s court and handing me Nemesis. The Valor reacted to me and suddenly, I was being swept up and glorified.”

Her soft smile returned. “But I never forgot his words.”

“Which were…?” prompted Kane.

“‘Our true worth is not measured by what we do when we are strong or how we overcome our trails when we are weak. We can only be truly worthy when we are comfortable in the life we live.’”

Kane threw a glance at Tanar who shrugged. When the two glanced at Rayne, the Demon Prince could only let out a short laugh.

“Somehow, I feel like he knew that his statement would become very appropriate for you,” said the Demon.

“I think he did,” Serena responded. “I carried his words with me throughout my training. It helped me to not become conceited against those that had treated me poorly in Mirecragg or scornful of my fellow students who looked down on my because of my heritage. And…”

Tanar reached out and rested a paw on her shoulder. “Helped you deal with Eaton when he confessed his love for you.”

She nodded in agreement. “I knew that I would not be worthy of this life that I have been blessed with if I crushed his heart there and then. So I swallowed the bile and vitriol that I had been building, pushed it aside and told him how I felt.”

“Which was nothing,” Kane concluded. “Girl, that’s still pretty damn cold.”

“Better than to destroy him emotionally,” Tanar countered.

“I dunno. If it were me, they’re pretty on par.”

‘Then what would you have done?”

“Slept with him and made sure my performance was really depressing. Or get really clinging during sex. Weep about how no one had ever touched me or even looked at me like that in Mirecragg or tell him how I want him to turn into a Lupus so that I can really stick it to the racist Vampiri by having their precious Paladin porked by a big, red lupine cock.”

Rayne was not at all surprised by the statement but both Tanar and Serena were unprepared and stared at him in blatant shock.

“You… you are something else,” Tanar sighed.

“And you love me for it!”

“Back on topic,” Rayne said, turning back to Serena. “Clearly you still care for him. Maybe not love him but you feel…?”

“Responsible,” she concluded. “I saved him and inspired him to become a Paladin. It was my misunderstanding that motivated him to excel as a Paladin. It was my treatment of his affection that made him a Lupus. Whether I like it or not, my actions have influenced him and I have to do everything I can to save him.”

“You realize that none of what happened was your fault, right?” Rayne stood and gestured in some arbitrary direction. “You weren’t the one that assigned Eaton to Char’s squad. You weren’t responsible for Char’s torment or even his decision to join the Custodia Goetia. None of this was your fault.”

“But when put in a position to steer us to saving Eaton, I couldn’t,” Serena sighed. “Perhaps this is the one time I could rightfully influence fate to change his destiny and I couldn’t.”

Tanar gave Rayne a helpless look. Clearly, the Leomian had know about Serena’s connection to Eaton for a while but had kept it to himself for his own reasons. Even Kane, who would have some boisterous and brash comment to make remained silent.

“You won’t know until we ask him,” Rayne said. “Knowing what little I do about Eaton, he might just be as angry at you for choosing to save him instead of Corona. So there is no use worrying about what can and cannot be. Let the chips fall where they may and learn to accept what you cannot change.” He crossed his arms and let out a soft chuckle. “And who knows? Perhaps Skye’s guidance will actually lead us to Eaton. The Inquisition didn’t find him at Clockwork, after all.”

Serena gave him a lopsided smile. “Do you honestly believe that?”

“I have never been one to put my trust in the Inquisition,” he answered, rolling his eyes, “but something tells me that High Inquisitor Serenity would never live it down if we somehow upstaged her by finding Eaton in Clockwork when she couldn’t. Something tells me she is going to be very thorough.”

He stepped up to her, clapping her shoulder lightly.

“Trust me. We will find him. Alive and well. Just be patient.”

For the first time since storming out, she smiled and nodded.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

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